“Mami Wata”, a broken phone and a Bay
“Unbelievable” In Minthukundi
Gbésè, GbÉbodi in karijini
Hell on earth and proud of it
The Ocean Rages
On aborigine country

The whole continent of Australia was first populated by the Aborigines. It is likely that a foreigner will see the Australian Aborigines as a homogenic group. This is wrong. The homogeneity amongst the Aborigines extends as far as the skin colour and physical features. Away from this, they are as different as an Igbo man is from a Kanuri or Zulu man. The language and culture are different from one another. To understand Indigenous Australia Aborigines, one needs to look at Australia from the structure in place in sub-Saharan Africa. The Zulus, Asantes, Songhai, Igbos, Kikuyus, Yaos and Hutus are all Africans yet they are different nations. In a similar manner, the Lurija, Anangu, Goorie, Nunga, Murrie, Arrernte are all Aborigines but different nations. Aborigines prefer the use of the word country than nation. Had Africa not been balkanised, the set-up will most likely be similar to that of present day indigenous Australia.
Our plan today is to cover the 610kms from South Hedland to Broome, that is almost the same distance from Mombasa to Nakuru, passing through Nairobi. However, before we embark on this trip, we have come to the South Hedland Library to process some documents that are urgently needed back in Perth. Here in South Hedland, we are on Kariyarra country. This fact is visibly displayed by the bronze plaque on the wall of the library acknowledging the Kariyarra people as the traditional custodians of the land and paying respect to their Elders, past and present.
The Kariyarra country is bound by Ngarla country to the north, Nyamal to the east and Ngarluma to the southwest. Hearing these names, it was as if I was back in the History of West Africa class being taught about the ethnic nationalities that preceded the modern African states. In 2018, following a 20 year court battle, the Kariyarra people were adjudged as holding exclusive and non-exclusive native title rights and interests over approximately 17,354 square kilometres of land and sea in the Pilbara region, including the town of Port Hedland. With this judgement, all the non-Kariyarra occupiers of land in this area are now tenants of the Kariyarra people as represented by the Kariyarra Aboriginal Corporation. In essence, for any use of land in this area, consent and payment of rent to the Kariyarra Aboriginal Corporation must be negotiated.

With about 25% of all royalties collected by the state being returned to the countries through the Western Australia royalties for region programme, these are supposedly rich people.
Add to this, the fund coming to the Aborigine Corporation from the signing of Native Title Agreements with individual mining companies. In oil industry parlance, this is what is referred to as the cost of the social license to operate. Money from the exploitation of the Pilbara resources is flowing back, in some ways, to the Kariyarra people. It will not be far-fetched to conclude that this may be a key reason why the Kariyarra and other Aborigine nationalities are not proportionally represented in the workforce. Why would one work if there is a guaranteed share of the national cake assignable to him?
But, we need to get back to the library experience. The building has been standing here since 1979 to aid educational inclusiveness of the people of this area. It is a small bungalow building, painted in light blue colour and located close to the main shopping mall in South Hedland. We had arrived well before the opening time of the library and had to wait a while, spending the period to observe the goings on in around us. Conspicuously posted on the outer walls of the library was a notice that says “No cash kept on premises”. The burglary proofs, something of an aberration in major Australian cities, are here. The library doors and windows are secured with welded iron barricades and we were left wondering who will be interested in stealing books from a library. We watched a couple of first nation people passed by and noticed not a few walking bare footed. It is a way through which they maintain great connection to the land. Mother earth is very important in indigenous culture.

At the time posted, we approached the door and watched as the young lady inside exerted quite some efforts in opening the locks and barricades that protect the entrance door. Inside, the library is modestly equipped with desktop computers, books, video CDs and more important, free Wi-Fi. We also saw that school bags are available for rent, something that felt strange to us. For the about the one hour period we spent here, the only folks that came in was a Caucasian woman and her daughter. No Kariyarra native was here for the duration of our stay but we could see them from the library windows as they move about, walking mainly toward the shopping mall.

We also noticed that there is an unusual high presence of police corps everywhere we have been in this area. This first occurred to us yesterday while at the shopping mall and we are now seeing them around the library, this early morning. The same will be seen at the gas station, later, as we fill up with gas for our long trip to Broome. It soon dawned on us that the further north we traveled, the more the intense the policing of these areas appear to be. Could this have to do with the crossing of the 26 degrees parallel as mentioned earlier?
Waking up this morning, I need to seek out medical help for my swollen gums. The tooth ache has become unbearable and I hardly slept the previous night. Using the search results from Google, I called some medical practices to book an appointment. None was ready to book me in and I was advised to go to the emergency ward of the nearest hospital. The only practise that was ready to see me requested that I pay twice the normal charge for consultation. I weighed my options and told my wife that we should brave the odds and go to Broome. Help should surely be available there.
Crossing the Great Sandy Desert in a motor vehicle would be on the Great Northern Highway, either be northwards from Port Hedland or westward from the Kimberley. We are doing so from the former. As we left Port Hedland, we drove on bridges across a few river beds, all with the same dryness. The wideness of the river beds inform that these are actually big rivers in the wet season when they are flowing though currently no single drop of water could be seen anywhere on them. Once we drove past the Pardoo Roadhouse, the river channels disappear completely and we were now at the western extremity of the desert. On this segment of the trip, the Great Northern Highway is closely hugging the coast. Though we could not see the ocean which lies to our left, at no point on this road were we further than a few kilometers from it. Which begs the question, why is this area visibly dry that it is a desert? Again, the teaching of my geography teacher at Lagelu Grammar School came handy. Though I must have stolen a few looks at the very beautiful NYSC tutor that was assigned to our class, I could still hear her voice as she taught about relief or orographic rainfall. She had taught us that areas close to the coast with no mountain ridge may experience drought. She had used the Namibian desert as an example and here are voice lingers on in my ear, as I observe the lack of water in the Great Sandy Desert.
The scenery was devoid of mountain ranges, everywhere we looked was just plain land covered with shrubs, no thick vegetation of any kind. In very few places, we could notice the pastoral leases with their cattle and wondered where the water for the livestock is from. Acess to water and knowing the location of wells in this area was important to the early settlers, a knowledge that was the exclusive preserve of the Aborigine who had tendered this land for centuries before the advent of the white fellas. The knowledge had been passed down from one generation to another but is now documented for all in the Hema Maps, a good tool for all 4WD adventurists like us. Looking at our Hema map, these wells and bores are located not very far from the Great Northern Highway and one can only conclude that the men that built the road were well influenced by these bores in choosing the exact path it follows. Today, the commuter in motorised vehicles does not need to bother about water, these can be gotten at the roadhouses.
At this point, we had handed over the Explorer to its cruise control function, there is no reason to be pressing and de-pressing the accelerator and brake. The road is lonely and for major stretches of the road we were the sole traveller, each experience being punctuated by a road train or another sole traveller returning from Broome. Traffic is very light and on this long stretch of the highway, the major risk to drivers is maintaining concentration. It is no gainsaying that vehicles on this road have to be in the most road worthy condition, any breakdown will be very costly both in terms of time and money.
As we passed by the much famed Eighty Mile Beach on our left, the road sign announces that we were now on the Nyangumarta-Karajarri country lands. We chucked a little in pronouncing the name, it’s probably the longest word we have come across on this trip. After what seemed an eternity, we arrived at the Roebuck Roadhouse, situated at the turning off to Broome Road, while the road continues its way to the Northern Territory. It has been one long drive to get here and immediately we noticed a change in the traffic situation, this stretch of road has a fair bit of traffic. The vegetation is also different with tall trees on each side of the road, a great contrast to what we had noticed on the highway previously.
The sunset on the Broome road was spectacular. The cloud formation in the horizon, hiding the sunset behind them, created a unique vista too beautiful to describe. It was like a fire burning in the sky. Saf could not resist this and she pulled the Explorer to a stop to take some amazing pictures of the sunset. The first impression of a visitor to Broome is that this is an old town. The well set-back houses, the grid-like streets dotted with trees here and there and intersecting at roundabouts all add to this impression. There is not much modernity to it, no new buildings are rising up. No apartment complexes being developed and in fact there was not a single construction crane here.
After settling in to our room, we remembered that we were hungry and headed straight to the restaurant. We were given seats next to two odd fellows. One very stocky white fellow whose visible skin areas were completely covered with tattoos. Even the forehead was not spared. Added to this, he was sporting a long goatee beard running down his chin. The aura he exudes was one that says clearly “do not mess with me”. The other was a little bit lanky, tall and walked with a swagger. His mien was that of someone that wouldn’t blink an eyelid in skinning someone. Surprisingly, they were not together. Our tattooed man was busy chatting away with another man while the lanky guy sat alone, drowning his alcohol. I was unsettled because of their presence yet they remain unbothered, probably unaware of my existence in that space.
Dinner was served and it looked sumptuous but my aching tooth told my brain in clear words “you can admire the food with your eyes but you are not savouring any part of it”. I made attempt to bite a slice off the pizza and screamed out from pain. Saf was empathic but continued to do justice to the meal. The pain has become unbearable and I can’t wait till morning to get a relief. Saf came up with a home remedy that has to be made from a mixture of alcohol, ginger and pepper. We took a drive to the liquor store and purchased a bottle of gin, the active ingredient for this mixture and came back to prepare the concoction. Sleeping tonight would be an uphill task.
The Big Australian
Entering the Pilbara
yardie creek road
We don’t want no Yankee Bases
Get a Life
Old women tell tales
Jesus slept in a manger
Spies Everywhere?
Blood at the gregories
Life, At the end of the road
The river and the ocean
Kalbarri, sits at the mouth of the Murchison River, the very point where it flows into the Indian Ocean. When the explorer Grey landed here, unplanned, he wrote that this was a well watered and populated country. It goes without mention that he was talking about the first nation people. We had wandered a little around the town yesterday for dinner and from what we could see, the Nanda people are no longer here in numbers, Kalbarri has become a caucasian city, like many others in Australia.
Getting out of our hotel this morning, we made our way to Chinaman’s Beach. Why it is called Chinaman’s is unknown to me but your guess is as good as mine. A previous trip to Broome had informed me of the early Chinese presence on the Western Australia coast hence a beach in Kalbarri noting this may not be out of place. This beach is the only place where fishing Is not allowed on the entire stretch of the Murchison River. It is also the take-off of many boat tours on the river and we could see some visitors being taken aboard a boat about to commence on one of such tours.
Of course, there also stood here a WWII Memorial. As I had mentioned somewhere earlier, hardly is there any Australian town without one. We will remember them, it proudly says. These memorials foster a sense of unity and belonginess in the Aussies, a shared memory of the past and an inhibition to the present from participating in senseless wars. Yet, Australia has contributed its men to every war in recent history. They were there in Iraq, they are still there in Afghanistan. There are some good ones, the involvement in East Timor is one, helping to bring peace to that country.
We left the beach area and joined the Grey Road, leading out of town. It was the same road that we had followed the previous day into Kalbarri. We were later to learn, at Red Buff, that the road was named after Captain George Grey who, along with his crew, were exploring the Carnavon in 1839 when one of their boats got destroyed in a cyclone and they had to row the remaining two for 56hours to reach Kalbarri. It was from here they then undertook the arduous walk of more than 500km back to Perth. It was said that they were barely recognisable when they finally arrived there.
The close to see attractions all have to do with observing the mighty sculpting works of the Indian Oceans over the years. The surrounding hills bear this testimony. We started at the Red Bluff Lookout, here we could look down at the raging ocean below and not far from where we stood, we could see the mixing of the waters, the waters of the Murchison and those of the ocean. There was a little sandy bar formed where these waters meet. A group of Asian tourists ahead of us had noted some whales in the distance and drew our attention to the point in the ocean where there was a ripple and soon, we could see the faint image of something breaking the waters. I honestly could not make out the shape of a whale but there was truly something in the water. Looking around us, the hill slopes gently down to meet the ocean, as we walk back to the car park and one has to resist the temptation not to follow this slope down to the ocean. The car park had only very few vehicles as at the time we arrived but as we depart, there was barely any parking space left.
We made our way to the Natural Bridge and Castle Cove, which were a few kilometres from Red Buff. A Natural Bridge is a structure left behind when the coastline yields to the force of the ocean which has carved a visible space underneath the land. They abound everywhere on the Australian continent and we have come across them in Albany in WA and seen the famed London Bridge at Peterborough in Victoria. Getting here took a short walk from the park and is assessable by wheelchairs as well. Close by is the Castle Cove, a recess in the coastal landscape. In the middle of this stood the island rock, a solid piece of the land, all around which the other lands have yielded to the waves. Looking down at the cove and the rock, I was awed at the intermix of stubbornness and persistence. The waves are persistent in their continued bashing of the rock and the surrounding coast while the island rock stubbornly refuses to yield to the calamity that has befallen others of its ilk. One doesn’t need to be a sooth-sayer to know that it is just a matter of time, the ocean will eventually have its way. The moral of this? Persistence will overcome all obstacles with time.
Our plan was to visit the famed Kalbarri National Park and see Nature’s Window. The iconic pictures taken from this land formation appears in nearly all brochure used to market tourism to all to visit WA and it is an important stop on our journey. More so, we have been told that at the same park, a new exhibit has just been recently opened, the Skywalk. The debate was whether to go now or defer same to the next day and visit as we make our way out of Kalbarri. Giving the distance to be covered, about 50kms, we resolved to do so the next day.
We had also been encouraged to visit the Fisherman’s Wharf and this was what we did next. As we returned back to Kalbarri, there is a little curve in the road that offers a good view of the city, the ocean and the river. We stopped here and met an older couple seated on the bench, observing the happenstance all around. They provided a great backdrop to the scenery which was one of extreme peace and calmness until one peeps downward and see the ferocious ocean at work.
Arriving at the Wharf, a little further out of the centre of the city, a large fishing boat was moored to the entire breadth of the jetty and the immediate surrounding has different smaller boats dotting the river side. A couple was in the process of getting their jet ski on the river while we had right next to our car an older man seated in his minivan, all windows wound up and engrossed in the book he was reading.
As we made for the jetty, the man came out of his car and started walking behind us, we felt that strange and told each other to be careful here. Ahead at the jetty was a family of two little kid and their father engaged in rod fishing. Caught anything yet, I asked? Yap and we were shown their catch, enough for a family dinner that night. At that point the old man reached into the river to examine his lines and it was then it dawned on us that he was fishing too. We loved his laissez faire approach to fishing. Not satisfied with having caught nothing, we watched him make his way back to his vehicle.
Fishing on the Murchison River is a favourite past time of the local and all visitors are encouraged to do so. I have my fishing rod in the boot of my car but wasn’t tempted to fish because it requires time, one we don’t have during this short stay in the town. If one is not into fishing, the fisherman’s wharf offer not much to the visitor. I had also thought that we would have been able to buy off some of the daily catch from fishermen at the area, I was wrong.
We were famished and headed back towards the town centre where we had seen some people having breakfast earlier. The whole town of Kalbarri is really a small one of which the Grey road is the major link and runs next to the river and sea. On the other side of the road lies all the vacation apartments and accommodation. The town is much loved because of its unique position next to the ocean, the river and the national park. It is not a trading outpost nor a commercial centre. Everything here is designed to cater for the tourists, especially the Grey Nomads.
During the course of the day, we came across a rather strange looking bike with a small German flag at its rear. We took some time in looking at it and got to speak with the owner. He goes by the moniker, paddyroundtheworld. He is a German national travelling around the world, with his dog, on a push bike. He has an interesting story to tell of his sojourn so far within Australia and his plan to cross into Asia and continue his trip. A little later, it was sunset and there was no better place to watch this than the Chinamans Beach. It was just spectacular and an opportunity to appreciate the many little wonders of our planet. The sun displaying a yellowish hue on the distant waters of the ocean as it goes down was beautiful. Many other vacationers were congregated here and just as the sun went down, we started feeling a little chilly and made for the warm comfort of the Explorer.
The Kalbarri Motel was a short distance from the Chinaman’s Beach and it boast a crowd of lively people which attracted us there for dinner. The environment was not opulent but with the coming and going of countless tourists from Kalbarri, it has become the place to be seen in the little town. We felt it would also have the best meal in town but we were soon proved wrong. Being African, we relish our food to be “well done” and it turned out that to the chef at the motel, well done is the same thing as “burnt”! Everywhere we looked, we were the only folks of our skin colour and it was most probable that our request was one out of the ordinary and the Chef wasn’t attuned to how to meet it.
At an ensuing discussion with a couple from Mandurah at the motel during dinner, we discussed Covid19 and the continued closure of the West Australian borders to other states of the commonwealth. They offered an interesting perspective, one that supports that the border should be kept closed for as long as possible. In fact, they are supporters for the independence of Western Australia, something that not a few people have been silently clamouring for especially during the GST crises of last year. The argument is that Western Australia, through its mining resource and others contribute a more than disproportionate sum to the GST bucket and doesn’t receive much back from the commonwealth. In addition, being remote from the other capitals, its way of life is much different and residents would want it that way, isolated and completely independent in determining its future.
The discussion left me to conclude that no matter the attempt to hide it, humanity is individualistic, the I before others syndrome. It reminds me of the different clamour in the Nigerian nation for an Oduduwa Republic or the on and off campaign for Biafra. While Australians have a patriotic zeal about the land and are very proud of what the nation has accomplished despite its small population size, there are still lines of divisions within. The Territorians do not feel they are being fairly treated by the nation and do clamour to become a state when it suits them. However, at the last referendum, the majority voted against the idea. The voting influenced majorly by the offer on the table for statehood not one against the very idea of becoming one. Western Australians do not feel much loved by others as well. In fact, many Australians from other states find a trip to WA akin to travelling to other countries, a different lifestyle. Prior to Covid, quarantine requirements have been in place regarding carrying fruit items across state borders, now Covid extends this to humanity. One nation, different people but yet still shares a lot of affinity to the flag.
The Heavens Open up at Kalbarri
The Abomination again
Show me a God
It’s been raining cats and dogs here and I am having what I regard as a Banji’s problem. It was Banji, a friend of mine that propounded the theory that house roofs only leak when it rains! You may laugh but it is true and his theory has stood the test of time. Nobody has come to fault it since he propounded it. In my case, the leaks were traced to a failure by the solar panel installers to seal up the holes through which the cables were passed into the house. It was to this team that I made a call to come over and fix their error.
For now, let’s put this issue aside, we will come back to it later. Remember Apostle Paul? Just haven been driven away from Thesalonica and Berea, he arrived at Athens. It was while there in Athens, waiting for Timothy and Silas, that he observed the proliferation of idols in that great Greek city. He could have kept his peace, just as many of us do. After all, he was neither Greek nor a resident of Athens. He was just passing through.
It was not in Paul’s nature to lose an opportunity to preach Christ, was he not him that said to live is Christ and to die gain [Phil 1:21]? For days, he had been dialoguing with atheists [Epicureans] trying to show them God. As he stood on Athen’s Mar’s Hill, he was committed to preaching Christ. How did he do it? Days earlier, he had found there in Athens an altar to the unknown god. It was to this he latched on to preach Christ and show his listeners that there is of course a God who is so close to each of us but yet needs to be sought out and found. His speech was a success, he converted not a few among whom were Dionysius (a member of the court), Damaris and others with them.
Reading the Bible is a challenging task, most often we gloss over the events and the circumstances that are briefly summarised in not so many words. More challenging however is how to fully appreciate these events since we are all using our modern experiences to understand events that happened centuries before our incarnation. So any modern reader could easily be forgiven for reading Acts 17: 22 – 34 and not fully appreciating the enormity of the challenge that Paul faced and commending this fine man for how gracefully he handled it.
The Epicureans are alive and still very much with us today. I had my Epicurean encounter a few days ago but unlike Paul, I failed. I could not summon the words or courage to address the question so vividly thrown at me. Getting back to my solar installers, a team of technicians was sent. At the head of the team was Jordan, a lad in his late twenties.
As he introduced himself to me in his cool, calm and friendly voice, what I saw was the tattoo on his right arm which he thrusted at me as we shook hands. It was a statement of faith or more importantly a challenge of my faith. Boldly tattooed for anyone to read was the statement “Show me a God”? I knew I needed to address his question but I just couldn’t fathom out how to do so. I thought of all ways to connect with this lad so that I could have a go at showing him my God but found none. I pondered about what to show him and how to prove to him that my God is Alive but lost all my oratory prowess. I ended up not saying a word to show him God.
Jordan and his team spent the next hour or so fixing the leak and eventually we parted ways. I still couldn’t understand what my fears were that made me to lose the wonderful opportunity to just open my mouth and allow the Holy Spirit to teach me in that very hour what I ought to have said [Luke 12:12].
I failed and I right now all I am looking for is redemption.
We broke the World Record
1 out of 400. Not bad at all, however this is not the record. This was the number of us who gathered at the Perth Observatory.
Yesterday I joined other stargazers in creating a new Guinness World Record for the most people stargazing at multiple venues. We broke the world record, 30,000 (some say 40,000 as the record counting is still underway) of us. It is official and will soon be in the Guinness Book of World Records. The previous record created by 7,960 people in 2015 was shattered by us.
Doing this at the Perth Observatory was fun, educative and awesome. The Perth Observatory, currently located in Bickley, is Western Australia’s oldest observatory. It has been in operation for more than 120 years. To show its age, on display at its entrance, is the Transit Circle Meridian Telescope, manufactured in 1897 by Troughton & Simms of London. Its sole use was to accurately determine Perth’s longitudinal positon. To navigators of those days, this must have been a big problem. Not anymore nowadays.
One of the very important functions of the observatory, in its hay days, was to accurately determine the time and communicate this to locations around the city. Existing clocks in those days could vary by up to half an hour! The importance of this may be lost to many but this resounded well with me, having visited the Royal Observatory Greenwich in 2009 and watched a presentation about Ruth Belville, the Greenwich Time Lady. Believe it or not, between 1890 and 1930 Ruth went around the city of London selling time. Yes, time. She wasn’t the only one, in fact she was the third time seller in her family!
Looking through the old 12-inch reflector Calver Telescope procured in 1910, I was able to see the moon surface and its craters. This amazing telescope had seen many things in the night sky in its 108 years of existence but not the single thing for which it was procured to see – the Halley’s Comet, a short-period comet visible from Earth every 74–79 years. The volunteer that manned the telescope lamented that as at April 1910 when the comet approached, the Calver telescope had been procured but not yet put in use while at the last approach of the comet in 1986, the telescope was in storage and has not been restored. So on the two occasions that the comet had appeared, the telescope did not get to be used to see it. It was restored and put back to use in 1996.
Talking about Halley’s Comet, its 1835 and 1910 appearances were important because of their association with the life and death of the American satirist and writer Mark Twain. He predicted his death to coincide with the 1910 appearance of the comet. Having been born with the comet appearance in 1835, he has noted in his autobiography published in 1909 that he expected to leave this earth with the comet’s appearance in 1910. He did. I remembered the sayings of Calpurnia, Julius Caesar’s wife “When beggars die there are no comets seen; the heavens themselves blaze forth the death of princes.”
Earlier, I had examined the Astrographic Telescope and its dome. This telescope, like the Calver, has a lot of history behind it. It was built in Ireland by Howard Grubb and arrived Perth, along with its dome, in 1898. Installation was in 1901 at the old Perth Observatory then on Mount Eliza. Though still in working order, the last scientific observation with the telescope was in 1999. It contributed in no small measure to the Perth section of the Astrographic Catalogues containing the positions of 229,000 stars.
It was while at the Astrographic telescope dome that I came to understand another meaning of the word computers and the significant contributions made by several full time staff who were women. It happened that the complex mathematical calculations, to determine the position of each star, were assigned to only women because they were deemed to be extremely more patient than their male colleagues. They were the “Computers”.
Standing alone and towering above everything else around it, is the Lowell Dome. It houses the Lowell Telescope which was installed in the 1970s as a valued part of the International Planetary Patrol. The Perth/Lowell Telescope had sister telescopes in New South Wales, Chile, the USA, South Africa and Hawaii – all deliberately placed and spaced so that the Solar system could be monitored extensively throughout the 24 hours in a day. While the dome and the 9 meter tower that houses the telescope were built in Western Australia, the 61cm Lowell telescope belongs to the Lowell Observatory in the USA and was funded by a NASA grant
The icing on the cake, for me, was looking at the night sky and seeing Jupiter and four of its moons through the lens of a telescope set up by Clive, another stargazer that partook in the record breaking event. For the event, people were assigned to colour coded sectors, I was assigned to the Green sector. As I took my seat, I exchanged pleasantries with my neighbour (forgotten his name), a middle aged Australian bloke. We agreed at how amazing space was and probably could have continued the conversation more in-depth. He then said that one thing was certain, there was no God out there. It was a test of my faith. My mind wandered between keeping quiet and responding. I quickly remembered Mathew 10: 33 where the good Lord said that “But everyone who denies me here on earth, I will also deny before my Father in heaven”. I responded and told him I believe there is God out there as well as here in Bickerly, where we were. He remained unconvinced stating the only place God was, was in our minds. We agreed to differ.
At about 6:35pm Perth time, the world record attempt started at the Perth Observatory Stargazing party. We were one of the 285 stargazing parties across Australia. The 400 or so stargazers that we were pointed our telescopes directly at the moon and kept observing it for 10 uninterrupted minutes. It goes without saying that there were some discomforts – neck pains and the cold chilly night. Did someone say “No pain, no gain”?
At the end of it all, we cheered loudly and congratulated ourselves. Now all that needs to happen is for the Guinness World Records to update its records.
Congratulations to all my fellow stargazers and more importantly to the marvellous Francesca Flynn, the amiable Operations Manager of the Perth Observatory. When I showed up earlier in the morning, she was swamped with preparing for the stargazers that would be arriving in the evening. Notwithstanding all the work she was managing, she still had her smiles on and was very friendly in attending to me. Same attribute was displayed by all the volunteers that work with her to keep the Perth observatory functioning, having lost state government funding since early 2015. I met them around the various telescopes and buildings in the observatory, their willingness to help and knowledge about the telescopes’ history and functions were amazing.
A day spent at the Perth Observatory is a day to be treasured and remembered for a lifetime. Please make it a place to visit when in Perth, your gateway to the universe!
You Are Not Alone
The newspaper headlines screamed – Hanson lost. Did she?
You know her, Pauline Hanson. She is the founder and leader of the Pauline Hanson’s One Nation Party (PHON), an Australian Political Party with a strong base in Queensland and with four seats in the Australian Senate. The untamed and unashamed Hanson is known for many things, not all good. She stands at the forefront of the anti-immigration and anti-multiculturalism campaign in Australia, the two main areas where Australia (the largest multicultural nation in the world) punches high above its weight in the world. Pauline is not only spitting fires against them, she is following up with measured actions. In 2015, it was the Islamic Community in Australia that caught her fancy culminating in her wearing a Hijab to Senate in 2017 in a manner to question the decency of that mode of dressing.
Now that you’ve gotten the idea, there are Xenophobic people amongst us and we need to curb their enthusiasm to run amok before it is too late. People like Pauline Hanson are ecstatic about others who do not speak or look like them. Thank God they are in the minority and the laws had kept them at bay from publicly causing harm and bringing their racial prejudice to the open.
In my career, working in international locations, I have met a few people like Pauline and usually shrug them off. However, I have had two notable experiences here in Australia that were not only scary but instilled some fears in me as to what lies behind the skins of people that walk our streets. It was late in 2016 that I requested the services of an Air Conditioner (AC) technician in my house using the Hipages.com.au website. Leigh of Conway Services Pty Ltd showed up. He was a handful and I can’t forget him in a hurry. He took a look at the AC, delivered the bad news that the refrigerant had to be replaced and invoiced me One hundred dollars as his call out fee. I offered to pay by credit card but unfortunately he had no POS machine. He chose to go the old way, using carbon paper, he traced out all the details on my card and left. Two days after, I got a call from him demanding for payment and I explained that he already has my credit card details and should charge this. That was when he went into a tirade, calling me all sorts of unprintable, racist names. Honestly, I was very disturbed that I could be the subject of racial slurs and verbal abuse.
Earlier that same year, a couple of wayward white kids drove through my usually quiet neighbourhood and pelted my house with raw eggs. Well, there were no words exchanged but the idea that my house was the only one pelted made me wonder why we were singled out. The only reason I could adduce was that we are not ethnically white. This made more sense since a colleague, living in another affluent neighbourhood, had had his car spray painted with racist slurs about a year or so earlier. For his and his family safety, he relocated from the neighbourhood.
Being Black and speaking with distinct African tones, I had thought that I was subjected to these racial slurs because of my skin colour. I was wrong and did not know this until I sat down with ML (full names withheld) this week for coffee. I had met ML at one of the social tennis clubs that I am a member of. He is lovely to talk to and of good manners. As we talked about different life issues that caught our fancy, the discussion drifted to racism. I had responded that racism is inherent in us all but at different points on a spectrum. Some unfortunately have a high concentration of it and are on the intolerable end of the spectrum while others are on the lower rungs. Our biases reflect these and are reflected in the way we see the world and act.
When ML said he was being discriminated against by Australians, he lost me. How can you be discriminated against – you are white and Australian! I am British and not Australian, he responded. Now I was completely disoriented. To understand him, he had to tell me a bit about himself. He has been living in Australia for more than 40 years, married here and established a business here. It’s most likely that I am racially blind – to me, he is Australian. His look, name and knowledge of this great south-land reveal nothing otherwise. Even when he speaks, there is nothing in his tone that makes me see him as different from any other white Australian. And yet he is on the receiving end of racial slurs.
He complained of being called a Pom, I never heard of that word until now. What it means and how derogatory it is, I had not the faintest idea but the mere fact that he felt offended by the use of the word was all that mattered. He cited instances of his experience and I could not but be sympathetic to him on these. He is a painter and had been called for a job in Mindarie. He had arrived timely early in the morning and knocked on the door to announce his presence. When the door opened, the guy on the other side was angry that he is a Pom and asked where all the Australian painters were. He said he countered the offensive by telling the guy that the Aussie painters were probably still all asleep, wearied from the binge drinking of the previous night. In another instance, his pronunciation of the word “Cup” had been ridiculed by some Aussie as being wrong and mimicked in a way that he felt offended as well. I could feel his pains.
So I asked who really is an Australian? Except my knowledge of history is deficient, there is only one group of people that can truly lay claim to being full bred Australians. These are the indigenous people, the Aborigine or the First Australians. Everyone else is an immigrant. Whether first or third generation immigrants, we are all immigrants and equally lay claim to being Australian. When next someone questions your “Australianness”, remember you are not alone. I encourage you to question theirs. No one has better rights to this piece of God given territory that any of us. Australia is a nation of immigrant and arriving first does not anyone superior to those that arrived last or will be arriving in future.
https://www.theaustralian.com.au/news/nation/protesters-take-their-pom-whinge-to-un/news-story/5c5ee5fd8c0ce9c58541e2b27cbfe7a0?sv=c1e87bf522110a51aeafe693d1d56496
A Scheme of Madness – Words do kill!
Words are powerful! They create and they destroy, a great reason why we need to pick them carefully. This week I had the opportunity of visiting Mundaring Weir. Here I got reminded of how important our tongues are. As I leaned on the rails that run across the weir, I couldn’t but think deeply about how one great Engineer was driven to commit suicide by words.
An hour and some few minutes’ drive, east of Perth is Mundaring Weir. To many Western Australian, Mundaring Weir is a significant landmark in the state. It was here that a remarkable feat of engineering was conceived and executed by C.Y. O’Connor. To date, this work that is nearly a century old still hold its record in the annals of Engineering.
The late 17th century gave Western Australia a unique present and at the same time a unique challenge as well. In 1892, gold was found in Coolgardie and a year later in Kalgoorlie in commercial quantities. With these discoveries, there was a gold rush leading to an influx of people into this arid interior of the state. All looked good, except there was a problem. Despite the abundance of gold, there was no water. We know that water gives life but the goldfields were dry and water was absent. Some ingenious men decided to solve the problem by importing Camels from Afghanistan. The Camels were put to work in taking water from Perth to Karlgoorlie. We all could guess how well this went, not enough volumes of water were being transported to sustain the human habitation and an alternative needed to be found.
It was to C.Y. O’Connor that the then Premier of Western Australia, John Forrest, turn. His instructions to the recently immigrated Irish man was for him to come up with a way to get water to the goldfields. C.Y, not being one to shy away from responsibility, no matter how arduous, took up the gauntlet and went to work. His proposed solution was to take five million gallons of water from the Perth Hills daily, pump this up for almost 1,200 feet and out over the plains for 350 miles till it gets to Kalgoorlie. Too good to be true many will say and for those bold enough, they called it the scheme of madness! Well, let us not forget that this was the late 1890 and technology was not what it is now. So, they were probably not crazy to think that way.
On paper, C.Y’s idea was simple. First, they would dam the lower Helena River at Mundaring and create a Weir. Then would lay the pipes and boost the rate of water flow using pumps placed at intermediate points on the pipeline route. Nothing complicated. The complications came from the state of development of Western Australia as at then. Firstly, Western Australia didn’t have the capability to manufacture the pipes. Secondly, the infrastructure to move the pipes across the vast isolated and hostile terrain was absent. Lastly, there was a dirge of Capital. Capital, given its alternate uses, was scarce. Investing this scarce resource to develop the Goldfield Water Pipelines meant forgoing some other critical government funding needs.
Undaunted, C.Y. O’Çonnor started in 1898. In their very eyes, the plan started being transformed to reality. The work to dam the Helena River began. Little by little, the retaining wall started to emerge from the river bed as a concrete mountain. Then the pipes started arriving and then the coupling work started, preceded by the bush clearing to provide the pathway for the pipeline over its 530km length. It didn’t stop there. They had to build the pumping station. The first one got erected at Mundaring and was aptly named Pump No. 1. There would be seven more to come.
Loan had been taken from Britain but what was advanced was not enough to meet the budget. Unperturbed, C.Y diligently faced the work he had in front of him. He was convinced that it was better to start with the funds available and somehow, the funds to complete the project would be found. Soon funds dried out but the project was far from finishing. “Kill him, crucify him”, the cacophony of voices were loud. Since they did more to Jesus, C.Y. a mere mortal was not moved. He shrugged them off.
Instead of the criticism waning it got louder and soon developed a life of its own. The bombardment was daily and it came from all fronts, the parliament, the press and the public. They were unfounded, they were unjust but no one cared. Let’s kill this project and its messiah before it bankrupt our state was all they were interested in doing. The criticisms soon got through his Irish skin. First they took his sleep away. What followed had him questioning his normalcy. At this stage some who knew him could see that he was no longer himself. Their “scheme of madness” had become a self-fulfilling prophecy, the architect of the scheme was running mad. No mental health help was available, he was left to himself. He did what came right to him, he needed to end it all and take himself out of his misery. A bullet to his head did the trick and he was gone to care less no more. This was 1902.
Then came January 1903, John Forrest stood at Kalgoorlie, turned a valve and water poured. Magic? No, Engineering. The work was completed and it put the camels to rest. They were abandoned and they went feral. Oh, as to the detractors, they started singing a new song. Hail, our Messiah, Hail C.Y. Alas, he was long gone and their praises couldn’t undo what had been done.
Today, billions of gallons of water had been pumped from Mundaring to Kalgoorlie. As I stood at the Weir, I pondered on how the words of mere mortals terminated a budding life at 59. He was denied the opportunity of carrying his grandchildren. He was denied the glory that should attend his long hours of painstakingly designing and building the pipeline. It could be said that he was driven to commit suicide by their words.
It’s the Outback
Day 5 [21st September]
I did not wake up early the next morning, 21st September, the sun was already high in the sky. It was International Day of Peace. As I came out of my swag, Batman was dressed in the most colourful jacket that I had ever seen. It was reminiscent of Joseph’s Coat of many colours. Give it to Greg, he was fully prepared for this trip, he looked great. Kristina followed suit with her faultless dressing to mimic Elvis Presley. She was stunning with her red glasses, long trouser and colourful dress. We had planned on driving 650kms to the Woomera campground. A chance meeting with a couple of folks, recently come all the way down from Coober Pedy made us to jilt that plan. There is a short cut that we could take between Smoky Bay and Coober Pedy and avoid the long route to Port Augusta. We reviewed the road using the Hema maps. Heading north from Smoky Bay, we would take a diversion eastwards to Wirrulla and then head through the remote Australian outback cutting close to the Lake Everard Homestead, a cattle station of some sort. We would continue on gravel through Kokatha and come out at Kingoonya from where we planned to join the Stuart Highway heading North Westwards to Coober Pedy.
We followed the plan and arrived at Wirrulla where we stopped to refuel. Fuel was becoming expensive as we move inwards. At Wirrulla, it was $1.41per litre of gasoline. Knowing that there is no fuel stop again until we reach Coober Pedy, I ensured that the Explorer had enough to drink, giving it 120ltrs. The town, Wirrulla, is the starting point of any adventure into the rugged Gawler ranges which is home to rare animals and amazing landforms. The town is dominated by the Tricia & Stokey’s General Store which stands massively on the left of the Hay Terrace, the main road in the sleepy town. The Gawler Range is posted as being 126 kms, Kingooya 249kms away and Coober Pedy 535kms. We would later find out that the 249kms to Kingooya will be gruelling, dusty and corrugated going through some of the remotest areas of South Australia. I looked through some adverts posted on the community board at the General Store and noticed the adverts for houses. Nothing special with Wirulla, it is a backwater town that happens to be a gateway.
A little further to the right of Hay Street, not far from Trici & Stokey’s general store are a couple of silos. Nothing else seems to be happening in the town. The town has positioned itself as a low cost settlement area for nomads – the group of Australians that are constantly on the road but need a low cost permanent structure to call their home. A 1 room, 1 bath wooden house with a 3 car park space was advertised for $69,000 with a rider that you can lock it up ad safely travel wherever you want to. No wonder the town seems devoid of human presence. Just ahead of the general store was the Wirrulla Hotel which provides hot meals and has accommodation available for travellers. One notable weird attraction of this town is the presence of an Inland Jetty, yea, you read that right. It is probably the only Jetty of its kind in the world, a Jetty where the tide is always out and has never been in water. Why the Jetty was built or what purpose it serves may well be the secret the town has been keeping since it style itself as the “town with a secret”. Having used the restroom and filled up our various beasts of burden, we headed towards the Gawler Ranges, northwards from Wirrulla.
On this trip, distances became mere numbers. It is given that we are covering vast space of land and we still have more to cover. We didn’t blink twice before we roared the vehicle engines and took off. The road was dusty and corrugated. We let down the pressures in our tyres so as to reduce the bounciness of the vehicles. The thick vegetation around Wirrulla son gave way to little shrubs and in most places the soil was bare of any vegetation. A couple of salt lakes lined the road as we move north, heading towards the Gawler Ranges. To the observant traveller, it becomes easily noticeable that South Australia is blessed with huge salt deposit. We soon came close to the Lake Everard Homestead and saw some wombat holes. We took a break from driving and went to take a look at the holes. We saw no wombat but met the skeleton of a few birds around the hole. As we walked back to our vehicles, a discussion ensued regarding the importance of the homestead to Australia’s Agriculture. It was from this discussion that I learnt that the homestead are actually cattle stations. What they do is to buy calves and release them into the wild, to fend for themselves. Of course there are no carnivorous animals in the wild that poses significant threats to cattle, apart from the Dingos possibly. Having secured the territory through which the cattle may freely roam, the homestead waits until the time that the cattle are sufficiently grown enough and round them up for the market. I was also made to know that despite the arid nature of the environment, there are pockets of water available and that the cattle could smell water from afar with their noses. Hence, it becomes easy for cattle station owners to know where to find their cattle, hey simply target the body of waters near their stations.
The heat was terrible and everywhere we looked, we were accosted with amazing view of the Gawler range. As we approach the range, we came across a large flock of Emu, those flightless ugly birds. They are the second largest living birds on earth. As it is with their other fellow country animal, the Kangaroos, the Emus can survive for days without water.
The South Australian Government warning that we were heading to one of the most remote and isolated places in Australia was not a joke We were soon on the worst road that I have ever driven on in Australia. Each vehicle was kicking up clouds of dust and we needed to provide good space amongst ourselves in order to have some level of visibility. The Explorer was rattling, from the corrugation on the road. It was the voice of Greg on the road that drew my attention that we would soon be coming across a pack of camel, on the left. A little north of the Hiltaba Homestead (HS) we stopped to examine the holes that were created by Wombats, that Australian native full of muscles. On our left was Death Valley, the name stirred up a discussion as to why a queer name for the valley. The wombats, were unsurprisingly not at the holes but we could sew the carcass of what looked like a goat and knowing that Wombats were no carnivores this was looked at as a mere coincidence. We took a few pictures at the area as it has a beautiful lookout of the surrounding hills and gently undulating landscape with virtually no tree cover. The homestead itself is neatly tucked into a cleft of the hill.
The surface was hard and of course with no water only the most stubborn of plants survive here. The few trees that are, are perched as if a fire has just swept through them. They are devoid of leaves or fruits with blackened soothe colour appearing all over them. It all look sombre, like a scene from a horror movie. Yet, despite this eerie looks, the vegetation, sombre, has a sort of beauty to it. It presents a clear contrast to the beautiful, well-nourished green vegetation that most Australians are familiar with in the city. Thinking deeply, one will really appreciate the creator as one who marvels in diversity. Unseen to the naked eyes, would be the snakes whose skins blend perfectly with the environment. We saw a clearing on our left, on a small hilltop and drove into it in a file, this was our lunch break. We all reached into our stock of food and were soon feeding our tommies. It was also an opportunity to urinate. I was scared of snakes and felt certain that this environment provides a very great opportunity for those slimy crawly things that are masters of disguise to cause harm. I picked a dry stick and used it to clear the path ahead of me until I go to a little distance from the team to do “my thing”.
With lunch done, we continued our journey through this remote wilderness. Every now and then, the road is broken here and there by Cattle Grids. These are well spaced rows of iron rods built into the road to prevent cattle from crossing from one station to another. The idea is that cattle likes feeling the grounds under their hoofs and with the iron grill, they will either get their hoofs stuck within the grid or feel unstable and would not cross. They work effectively as containment barriers for the free roaming cattle. A little before Kingooya, we got a distress call on the radio from Greg, the other Greg. He had lost his rear windscreen. Shattered, a piece of rock from the road had hit it and broken it up. At this time, Greg and a few vehicles were looking at the damage out of my visibility. I pulled the Explorer to the side of the dusty road, allowed he dust on the roads to settle and alighted from the vehicle. Everywhere I looked, there was no sign of life at all. I actually felt like I had been transported away from Earth to mars. All that surrounded me were just red plains and rolling hills for as far as the eyes could see. I am no geologist but looking at how ancient these lands were, I was convinced that it holds abundant mineral resources. I took a few pictures of the landscape and also took he time to walk around the Explorer, just to check if there were any visible problems. It was the voice of Greg on the radio that brought me back to Earth. They have settled on a fix-up plan for the damage on his vehicle. His would be done as soon as we get to Kingooya. I relayed the message to the team ahead of me and we all continued the trip.
It was a little to 6pm local time when we made it to Kingooya. Kingooya town is not a remarkable place, it is a small almost totally abandoned farming settlement in the central outback of South Australia. One can count the number of houses in the town, not up to ten. From their looks, one can assume that they are not fully occupied all year round. We were told that they are sometimes occupied by people involved in mining exploration and kangaroo shooting. One could easily miss the town if not for the hotel, well visited I suppose by many other travellers who chose to take this outback short cut to reach Smoky Bay or Tarcoola. By the time we arrived, there were about six 4WDs packed in front of the hotel. Of course, the ancient looking red truck with Kingooya Hotel inscribed on what would have been a windscreen could not be missed. A couple of tourists were having their beers in the front porch of the hotel and a few more taking pictures as we eventually did too. The Indian Pacific Train passes through the town on its 4,352km trip from Perth (on the Indian Ocean) to Sydney (on the Pacific Ocean) and so also does the Ghan on is way from Adelaide to Darwin.
We got to take a look at the damage that had been sustained by Greg’s Nissan Navara. The windscreen of the canopy on its back was completely shattered. There was red dust everywhere and on everything. We thought of any known bush engineering practise that can be used but our knowledge failed us. We finally settled on having a bathroom towel taped to cover the gapping space that was previously covered by the windscreen. It worked. The plan was to get to the ARB store in Coober Pedy for a replacement windscreen, when we arrive there. At this point, I also discovered that the rear license plate on the Explorer was about to fall. I got a plastic cable tie, two of them and get the plate hooked on again.
We thought of camping here, at the open space in front of the Kingooya Hotel, for the night but there was a revolt, from not a few members. They were concerned that the noise of the passing trains will not make for a restful night after such a long exerting trip. We drove another 30kms, northwards before we found a camp at an altitude of 146m. We were now 331kms away from Smoky Bay, at least that’s the reading from the electronic gauge of the Explorer. The camp was left of the Gosses Road, the intersection with the Stuart Highway was still a little bit ahead of us. We set down to camp for the night around 6:30pm. The sun was still in the horizon causing Diane to spend some time to decide where to set her tent. If there is any talk of the lonely solitary road, this was it.
To answer nature’s call, I crossed the dusty road in front of the camp and headed some few metres into the open land. Having a little bush covering, I dug into the grounds and deposited my waste therein, ensuring that same was well covered away from foraging animals to dig out. Other team members did the same.
There is no service or utility anywhere near where we were. Kingooya is so remote to any infrastructure or utility provision. There is no water, no phone coverage and no filling station of any sort. Each traveller has to be reasonably sure that he is self-sufficient otherwise danger looms. Tales have been told of missing travellers whose vehicles were found but they had wandered away in search of help…and died. It goes without saying that before you head into the outback, please be reasonably sure of your equipment, your provision and emergency plan. Any failure could cause the traveller his life. We were at the camp site for more than 19hrs and only 2 vehicles, solitary souls, passed our way. This lends credence to the advice by the South Australian government that we were headed into a remote area.
If this were another country one would, and should, reasonably be afraid of attacks and robberies. This is Australia and is not the case. There have been few occasions where campers have been attacked and murdered but it is generally rare. The film, Wolf Creek, attempted to document such an incident whose true event happened between Alice Springs and Darwin on the Stuart Highway on 14th July 2001. Being lone travellers on the highway, British tourists Peter Falconio (then 28) and Joanne Lees were roughly half way between Alice Springs and Tennant Creek, when a mechanic called Bradley John Murdoch managed to make them pull over, telling them that sparks were coming out of the exhaust of their van.
Peter went to the back of the van with Murdoch to have a look and that was when Murdoch shot him an attempted to take Joanne, who managed to escape, as hostage. The tale is reminiscent of similar events that had happened in other countries and I am pretty sure that were Peter a Nigerian, he wouldn’t have fallen for this trick which is an old one in the books of Armed Robberies.
I took a look at the Explorer and was again convinced that I made the right decision. I had bought it as a go anywhere car with all the necessary gears and equipment for solitary life in the outback installed. You don’t buy such a car and keep in your garage. They are meant to explore places like this, the outback.
Mark brought out his fire pit and a fire was kindled. The entire team chose Mark’s troopy spot as the place to gather and share the warmth radiated by the fire from Mark’s fire pit. Discussion moved from one topic to another and then to religion. The concept of modern ay Aussies approach to religion came clearly to me. A few team members professed hat they were Christians but do not go to church. The issue of adoption was openly discussed, especially as it relates to the family that had to adopt a Chinese baby. They remain convinced that their decision worked in the child’s favour and theirs. They are a happy bunch and once can notice he happiness in the child as well.
The night itself was devoid of any notable incident. I had taken my leave from the group earlier than others and settled into the comfort of my swag. I slept off, deeply and soundly.
Nothing smoky in Smoky Bay
Day 3 & 4 [19th & 20th Sept]
The night had been freezing cold. Probably due to the southern ocean being just a few kilometres to our south and the cold currents from Antarctica must have been blown over land at night causing the cold temperature that we experienced.
We started out early this morning. 6:23am and all the vehicles were back on the road, heading towards Eucla on the Eyre Highway. We had spent the previous night just 5km west of Mumrabilla. It is Pirates Day and again, Greg was all for it. We were to dress like a Pirate and speak like a Pirate all day through. I am not well versed in this and simply did much more of listening to the conversations on the Pirate Channel than talking. The bat’s mobile is flying a black pirate flag on its roof and Collum’s car was also having a skull in front of its grills. The two Greg’s, I thought, must have earlier come to the world as Pirates because they just were having fun. As we proceeded Eastwards, the southern sun was ferocious. It was high on the horizon on our right hand side. I was driving as Car # 3 in the convoy of 8 cars and absorbing the sights of the mountain ranges that dot the 70km stretch of road between Mumrabilla and Eucla. The peculiar characteristic was that the mountain ranges seem to be only on the left hand side with low lands on the right hand side. Looking ahead, we get accosted with the sight of an upcoming pass, a little gap in the mountain range through which the road is laid. The pass seems to becoming more distant away from us, the more we drive towards it and once through a pass, another starts looming far in the distance in front of us. The harsh environment, sparse water and very hot climate, ensures that the gum trees were without competition in this area. The gum trees, having adapted to the environment have become kings. They provide the needed shades to the Kangaroos and seems that the trees and the roos have a symbiotic relationship. A this time of the morning, the road seems fairly deserted, we have driven 26kms and met less than 20 vehicles so far.
The Explorer has been gulping fuel, at 15.6ltrs/100kms. One can attribute this to the strong head winds that we have been battling with all through the morning. Not the kind of news I wanted to hear but it was still much better than the average of 20ltrs/100kms that we experienced in January.
Approaching Eucla, is one of the best views of the mountain range and one gets to the town driving through the Eucla pass. Here a group of Emus crossed the road ahead of us. They are big birds but devoid of anything that can be described as beautiful. Wandering and roaming freely across the wide land, their only predators are men and as such their numbers, if not being culled, would have been uncontrollable.
Fuel was selling for $1.69 in Eucla. My last fuelling at $1.39 in Norseman. While I understand the economics behind the increased costs, it still is difficult to accept. One would have expected that a commercial driven entity would lay an oil pipeline between WA and SA following the Eyre highway to capture the arbitrage opportunity in petroleum pricing and reduce it as well. At Eucla, we were just 12kms from crossing the WA/SA border and from Ceduna 492kms.
Nothing depicts Australia as the brown cement sculpture of a Kangaroo in Eucla. It has a Vegemite in its right hand which it raised proudly up. Kangaroo and Vegemite are native to Australia. Visitors to Eucla could actually hide in the pouch of the Kangaroo to take pictures. Nothing special is here at the Eucla Road House apart from the Quarantine post for those crossing from SA to WA. None for those from WA to SA yet, that will come up in Ceduna later on. My radio that developed a mind of its own earlier this morning got eventually fixed by Collum. It required just pressing the SQL button to remove the weird noise that it was making.
A little after Eucla is the Australian Bight lookout, the very first place that we will catch a glimpse of the Southern Ocean on this trip. We took a diversion to the lookout and congregated on the wooden platform where we took a group picture. Everywhere we looked, eastward or westward, we were accosted with the sight of very sharp cliff edges. The rocks are described as unstable and visitors are warned of the risk of falling off the cliff edges. The strong waves of the southern ocean lashing against the rocks. The erosive forces of the water is constantly at work, shaping the Australian continent but the cliffs stood unperturbed. As we drove out of the look out, we came across a road sign warning us to be careful of the three (3) road risks in this area – the camel, the wombat and the Kangaroo.
We arrived Smoky Bay late in the evening. It was a short turn away from the Flinders Highway. A couple of kilometres away from Ceduna, one can’t miss the brown brick sign off the flinders highway on the right welcoming you to Smoky Bay. On our earlier trip in January, we had actually driven past the bay to spend the night at its sister bay, Streaky Bay. The bay was devoid of the usual hustle and bustle of vacationers and it appeared a s a sleepy little town by the bay. We headed straight for the Smoky Bay Caravan Park, passing through a couple of sheds and boat storage lots.
We formed a queue at the entrance and had to step out of the vehicle one by one in order to confirm our booking and make the payment of $30 per night for each site. Each family was provided a site number and the PIN for accessing the park and its amenities.
Smoky Bay was devoid of many vacationers when we arrived here. It was quiet and we were able to get all the sites that we booked for. Not long after we settled at the sites, with a spirit of adventure a couple of team members were insistent on going on an adventure. Batman, Batgirl & Diane were hooked on oysters and went to an Oyster farm. The rest of the team settled to have a walk to the Smoky Bay Jetty to observe sunset on the bay. I had the opportunity to converse with Mark, as we walked to the Jetty. We somehow picked up on the same-sex marriage issue that has polarised Australia. Mark, being the artful dodger that he is was not in any definable camp. He felt, at the same time, that the two (2) camps deserve a listening ear but was more troubled that the NO camp had approached the issue more from the religious ground and since a party’s religion is not necessarily binding on others, this was a false premise. I had mentioned that the issues goes much further than that. The experience in Ireland was brought up by me that accepting same sex marriage would, at this time, be curtailing on the religious freedom of many employees who would not be able to recluse themselves from offering their services to gay couples, which will be against their religious dictates.
The Smoky Bay Jetty was beautiful at this time of year and with the sun disappearing in the horizon, its rays turned the water colours and made them splendid to look at. We took a couple of nice pictures on the Jetty, having been joined by the other Greg.
I had planned to do some fishing and had carried my fishing rod and accessories all the way from home, expecting to have the opportunity to fish. No one was fishing at the Jetty and even the Ocean pool, highly barricaded with strong Iron grill was empty. I noticed the warning posted about Shark and I was told that this part of the ocean is notorious for shark attacks. We walked back to the beach only to meet our other team members all by the beach enjoying the cool breeze of the evening. Greg, the other Greg, decided to teach Leo how to throw a pebble to skim the water surface and bounce through it. I got to notice Leo seriously for the first time. He looked Asian and my brain was challenged at deciphering the true biological relationship that he has with Tim and Megan, his parents. It was a riddle that resolved itself later.
I took a look at the beach houses, obviously vacation rentals from the looks and noticed that they were majorly unoccupied We were too early with our trip as the majority of parents taking their kids on holidays have not arrived here. The pristine clear, crisp nature of the water is notably Australian. It is not different from what you will find in most other Australian beaches. The sand was white and the one can see clearly to the bottom of the water. After some while, we returned back to the caravan park. I was tired and wanted to get into the Jerusalem book that I had bought. A couple of folks had heard about the fish and chip store and went to dine there. I settled for a light meal and slipped into my tent for the remaining part of the evening. The hot weather soon gave way to the calm sea breeze and at night the temperature must have dropped significantly as I was feeling chilled in my tent. My wife had persuaded me to travel with a duvet and some warm clothing. I couldn’t understand her logic but I did agree to her suggestions. I said a little prayer for her as I slipped under the duvet and put my socks and hand gloves on.
The fish and chips adventure was a failure, I learnt this the next morning. It so happened that by the time the party go to the shop, it was closed for the night. Dejected they came back to camp. There wasn’t much to do in Smoky Bay and we spend most of the day lazing around. I spent the greater part of the time reading through the biography of Jerusalem. Evening came and we all trooped to the fish and chips sop, being mindful to get there in good time before it closed. Close to the entrance we noticed a dog that was tied to a pole to keep it from walking away. This dog won’t stop backing and it was a nuisance to our quiet enjoyment of the fish and chips. I do note that the fish and chips were tasty and well prepared. Across the road, were a couple of houses and my attention was transfixed at these, trying to immerse myself in their architectural history. A section of the general store, where the fish and chips were bought, was set aside to cater to the needs of the fishing community. Anglers, baits, fishing rods and all similar tools are available at a price to lure the fishing enthusiast to the bay for some fishing.
Skippy, live to die another day
Day 2 [18th Sept]
We departed Camp as agreed by 7am, the troop was on its way. This was a great improvement compared to our starting time the previous day. The plan was to spend the night at Eucla. Greg, the other Greg, must have fallen in love with the sound of his voice over the radio and kept us all entertained. There was no boring time with him .With him driving behind me, I was very comfortable and feared no foe.
As we cruise along the Eyre Highway, we came across people with different weird ideas of crossing Australia. Today, we saw, heading westwards a lady on a tricycle being pedalled towards Perth. There was another Asian lady pushing a cart ahead of her westwards.
Once we got out of the major cities, we were in digital darkness. The telecommunication signals were almost non-existent and very faint in the few areas where we could catch them. However, at camp tonight, Telstra signals were as strong as it could be. It allowed me to catch up with my emails and I had a video conference call with my wife and kids as well.
The journey from Frayed Camp had been long and with the little kids getting tired and becoming a little noisy, we abandoned the plan to reach Eucla and started looking for a camp site. We were not far away from Mundrabilla. Using one of the free camp apps, we were soon directed to a camp close to us. There was a decent number of travellers, mostly grey nomads that were spending the night at this camp.
The stretch between Madura & Mundrabilla, on the Eyre Highway is a Kangaroo slaughter house. I had never seen so many dead Kangaroos in my life, yet we also saw a few living ones in the bushes not far from the road side. Counted more than 30 dead Kangas by the roadside. A very near miss from killing one would have soured an otherwise pitch perfect day of driving. My closest encounter with a Kagaroo so far, and would have unfortunately ended in a death. The death of the Kangaroo. With a little manoeuvring and a truck that is very responsive, I was able to avoid a kill and having blood spilled on the Explorer. Now, my encounter with a Kangaroo is well documented in the anals of the Perth Social Camping and Four Wheel Drive Club courtesy of Greg. In his blog for that day he wrote
“This stretch was… count the kangaroos… sleeping on the side of the road, or jumping out in front of the cars with a few emu’s thrown in for good measure… Well done by Bimbo (Mr B) for avoiding the suicide kangaroo that decided to bounce out in front of his car, do a U turn, thus scaring the Bejesus out of Mr B… all was not lost as Mr B got his own back as Mr Skippy got his tail run over in all the commotion… serves yourself right Skippy… scaring a guy halt to death lol”
Well, nothing gets wasted in the outback where the cycle of life is constantly at work with the road trains being willing hands. The cycle goes thus, the road trains, coming at speeds of 100kms/hr are zooming to their destinations at dusk. The lights fully on. The Kangaroos, never hopping alone, gets attracted to the road side. The main attraction, the little grasses that grow by the road side. While busy feeding n he grass, the Kangaroo hears the noise of the approaching road train and then the lights confuses them scurries. Scurrying when they should have kept calm, they run amok, leaping unto the road and they get finished up by the weight of the road trains. By morning, the birds of prey (the raven and the eagles, especially) descend to have a feast. The tough job always being to penetrate the thick skins of the Kangaroos and to get to the meat. It takes time but the job gets done, over a few days. What is left? The skin and the bones. The scorching sun, contributing in no small measure to the decomposition of the carcass. As some of the weird travellers, crisscrossing the Australian continents attests, you can smell the Kangaroo carcass miles before they actually get to see them. With us driving in fully air conditioned cars, we don’t get to take in the smell. The Eyre Highway passes through some of the most inhospitable lands on the planet, humid, dry and most times very hot and scorching. Yet, the Kangaroos make a living here. To keep ourselves alert, we had a trivia game ongoing amongst the troop on radio. I came to learn from this trivia that Kangaroos can survive for days without water. By feeding on the leaves and shrubs that are abundant in this region, which themselves are almost devoid of any water, the Kangaroos can keep themselves hydrated.
We crossed the Nullabor plain. To me, this will be the third time this year, having done so twice in January. It is the treeless vast land space between Yulata, on the western end, and the Nullabor road House, on the eastern end. Everywhere we looked, right, left, front and back, the land was devoid of trees. There are no trees because the soil is a shallow calcium-rich loam derived mainly from sea shells. The Nullarbor Plain is home to earth’s largest single exposure bedrock of limestone.
At the camp site, I came across the very first “Poo Museum”. This, to me, probably is the only museum of its sort in the world, a museum dedicated to poo – all types of shits. Give it to the Aussies, they have a weird sense of humor – the pit latrine, as would be called by people of other nationalities, was designed all around and labelled the Poo Museum. Well, when it comes to the call of nature, either living or dying, there are no excuses. Having travelled long and far, it was time to clean our bowels. Both the highs and lows, were heading towards or planned to visit the Poo Museum. When I got there, we actually formed a queue to use the facility. As we lined up, about three of us, to answer natures call at the poo museum, I got into a chat with a lady who had travelled all the way here from Tasmania. Camped closer to the museum, in their luxurious bus, with their vehicle in tow is a couple who had been on the roads for the past 4 months around Australia. Home, to them, was just a few kilometers more as they were on the final lap of their journey towards South Australia. They sure were travelling in comfort. I teased that with their luxurious bus, they had no need of a home. The wife candidly answered that after a couple of months on the roads, it gets tiring and there is nothing compared to a very warm comfy bed at home. She mentioned that despite their adventures, they still keep their home and were actually looking forwards to getting back home. I left them with a message, when I grow up, I will like to be like them.
I entered the poo museum, a well aeriated room with a toilet seat on one side of the wall. No water was available anywhere here and the poo drops into the hole below only to biodegrade. I was pleasantly surprised that here were no odour of any kind. It requires low maintenance, if any at all.
Things to do
- Norseman – Norseman statute and beginning of Eyre Expressway;
- Balladonia Museum – Home to pieces of NASA’s Skylab and start of 90 miles straight;
- Caiguna Blowholes;
- Nullarbor Links – Play golf on the World’s Longest Golf Course
The Great Eastern Highway. Day 1
Day 1 [17th Sept]
[singlepic id=153 w=320 h=240 float=left]It had taken several months in planning and D-day is today. We have had three (3) trip meetings, looking at the plans and evaluating different options to make the trip successful. Planning itself has taken a little over three months. Australia is huge and our plans needed to ensure the safety of all the trip members and the equipment we are travelling with while providing us with a great adventure. We needed to ensure that the major attractions were open to visitors, hence the choice of the spring time for the trip.
The last minutes of the previous nights were used to check-off items on my list. I was confident that I had all that I needed. The night was unusually long, probably suffering from excitement and a sense of adventure, I was unable to sleep. By 5am, I was up on my feet. I had to pick up a few more things from around the house and checked my precious jerry cans of petrol to be comfortable that I had enough fuel to take me through the long desolate areas where there would be no filling stations. I woke up my wife and we said our byes with hugs and kisses. It was 6:30am by the time I stepped inside the “Explorer”, the journey has started. The journey of a thousand miles, begins with a step. So says the popular adage.
It took me another 25mins to make it to the Midland Station where we all had agreed to meet by 7:30am. Departure time was fixed at 8am. Well, I arrived as planned and got to meet David. Mark showed up thereafter in his troopy and we started a familiarization chat. The time was a little past 7:30am and there was no sight of the other team members. I put a call out to Greg, the Club organizer and couldn’t reach him. A little later, I got a call on my phone, it was Greg summoning us to come to the other side. The sight that beheld us, as we arrived was some sort of carnival fun. Of course, it was Batman’s day. Greg was fully costumed up as Batman and the daughter, Brittany was a bat girl. Their vehicle became known as the bat mobile. The kids were expectant and we took a couple of videos and we were soon on our way. A little ahead, we stopped to allow Collin and Dani to join the convoy. We filled up the tanks and the trip had started in earnest. All had their radios checked and we chose to communicate on Channel 10. For issues with pronouncing my name, Greg renamed me Mr. B, the moniker that would represent me for the duration of the trip.
A quick round-up of the plans for the trip and the driving plan for day 1 was done with. We took a couple of pictures and a few members wandered off to get some early morning coffee. The three (3) kids in the team were full of excitement and I was too. It was going to be a trip of a life time. Tim is the trip leader and will drive ahead of us. Colum would be the deputy and drive at the rear of everyone. The rest of us took our numbers and fell into a line between Tim and Colum. We got into our vehicles, tested our radios and headed out of Perth on the Great Eastern Highway. Mundaring will be our next stop where we planned to fuel up and be joined by two other members of the team. As we drove out of Midland, the whole city of Perth was just coming to life. I wasn’t sure if and in what condition we would be back to the city but was expectant that all will go well. We had taken all necessary measures to be safe on the trip. We even have a home team, to monitor our progress and act as an emergency team to coordinate rescue for us in case of any unfortunate incident.
In less than an hour we got to Mundaring. At the Lake Roadhouse, we chose to refuel and were joined there by Diane and Collins in their Mitsubishi BT-50. By now, the team was complete. We were 15 souls in 8 vehicles. It wasn’t a surprise that all the vehicles were Japanese made – 3 Mitsubishi’s, 1 Isuzu, 2 Nissans and 2 Toyota’s. After the exchange of pleasantries, we reviewed the plan for the day and decided to form a convoy. Tim being the trip leader drove out first in his Nissan Patrol. His job was not the easiest. He was to map out the route and drive towards the destination at reasonable and safe speed. He would keep us away from the road radar, announce the presence of on-coming vehicles and sightings of animals, especially the Kangaroos, the Emu and other road dangers so that other members of the convoy take necessary precautions to avoid them. The Explorer, would be the third vehicle in the convoy. I was sand witched between the two Gregs. We chose a channel upon which we would exchange radio communication and headed out. At the end of the convoy was Colum, driving an Isuzu D-max. His work was similar to that of Tim, maintaining the rear flanks and acting as our eyes regarding vehicles overtaking the convoy and any approaching dangers from the back.
The trip started and we headed towards Coolgardie on the Great Eastern Highway. The road, a well-travelled road and an artery of some sort, links the remote western City of Perth with the Goldfields as well as the eastern parts of Australia. On our side, for the most part of the trip, were the railway lines as well as the Goldfields Water Pipeline. We drove past a few of the pumping stations for the precious water being carried to Kalgoorlie by the pipeline.
It didn’t take us much time to arrive and drive through the sleepy city of Northam on the Great Eastern Highway. We went ahead and passed through Meckering, noted as the Western Australia’s earthquake town because of the significant earthquake that happened in the town in 1968. It is just 1.5 hours’ drive from Perth and a tiny wheat farming town. Meckering is also home to the Big Camera. The Big Camera is actually a museum of photography and to enter it, you walk through the ‘lens’.
Australia has unique problems and overtime has developed unique solutions to addressing such problems. It is at Cunderin, a little town much recognised by its odd shaped Ettahmogah Pub building and the No.3 pump station of the Goldfields Water Supply pipeline, that one comes across the Rabbit Proof Fence. It is said to be the longest fence in the world covering a little over 3,200kms. Well the Rabbits were said to have become a pest, crossing over from the Eastern States and destroying farm crops. The Australian solution? To construct a fence from North to South of Western Australia to keep the Rabbits at bay on the eastern side of the fence. Completed around 1905, it cost 330,000 British pounds! I thought a little bit about the problem and what the ingenious African solution would have been. Of course, Rabbits cannot become a colonizing pest in Africa. We just have too many people to feed and Rabbit is a delicacy that can be roasted, boiled and otherwise sun-dried. If this problem were to exist in Africa, I am sure some enterprising genius would have a field day making money from selling Rabbit bush meat. The £330,000 pounds could be diverted to some better use.
We drove through Cunderdin, Tammin and then Kellerberrin. Kellerberrin has a heritage post office building which opened and has been in operation since 1912. That was 2 years before the amalgamation of Northern and Southern Nigeria! We also drove through Merredin. It was here, in 1999 that a team of farmers and local transport companies broke the record for the “Longest Road Train”. Road trains are significant contributors to the logistics that support the Australian economy. From here onwards, we were in road trains country.
The journey was smooth and uneventful and we made it to the town of Southern Cross, 350kms away from Perth. At Southern Cross, we stopped for fuel and lunch. Of course, the price per litre of fuel, diesel or petrol, is now significantly higher than it was in Perth. The town itself is notably named after the Southern Cross constellation and the town’s streets are named after constellations and stars. If you are into star gazing, this will be a town worthy for you to live in as being that far into the hinterland, its amazing skies are so clear in the night that distant constellations and stars could easily be observed using the right telescopes.
As one drives along the Great Eastern Highway, the observant traveller will commend the splendid cleanliness of the environment. Litters were nowhere to be found by the side of the highway or at the many rest areas that dot the road. Of course, the government has done its part by providing litter bins but the culture of the Aussies regarding the environment is worth commending. Well, I won’t mention but in many other areas of the world litters and garbage strewn the streets and major highways. None could be found on the Great Eastern Highway. Every litter you create becomes an additional passenger in your car that you have to take along and dispose properly when you are opportune to do so.
Lunch done, we proceeded towards Coolgardie. Our plan was to make it to Norseman and camp there overnight. As we approached the turnoff from Coolgardie to join the Coolgardie-Norseman road, we got bogged by our first mechanical issue. The Electronic Brakes on Colum and Kristina’s vehicle will not work. Colum, is a man good with his hands, as we parked along the highway, he got under the car’s hood, fetched out the culprit which was a burnt fuse. This was speedily replaced and we continued the journey. It was getting late and it dawned on us that we weren’t going to make it to our planned camp site in day time. As a result, we sought an alternate camp site and we set up for the night at Frayed camp. As you move southwards towards Esperance on the Coolgardie-Esperance Highway in Widgiemooltha, Frayed camp is on the left, just a little bit off the road. Though we had no pets, but pets are allowed in this park and so also are all sorts of camping allowed. The camp was virtually empty of other beings. The remarkable thing was the length of gas pipeline running through the camp, we all picked our individual spots and set up for the night. The camp was nestled within a group of trees that provide great cover and shade.
The evening was spent in getting to know each other better and discussing about the events of the day. I brought out my swag and nestled in for the night.
Things to do
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Visit Northam, to explore the beautiful Avon Valley;
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The Perth Hills and Mundaring. Mundaring is home to the historic Mundaring Weir, John Forrest National Park;
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Meckering – The Earthquake Monuments and The Big Camera;
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Cunderdin – Pump No.3 (now Cunderdin Museum), the unique building housing Ettamogah Pub and Rabbit Proof Fence (The longest fence in the world)
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Merredin – Site of the world record for road trains;
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Coolgardie – Old Court House, Warden Finnerty’s Residence
Toodyay, what a place, what a name?
Well, it starts with an interesting story, strange but true! It is said that the original name of the town was Newcastle. Given that Australia itself was a penal colony, it isn’t difficult to see why such a name was settled on by the early British Settlers. So how did Newcastle become Toodyay?
It is said that a certain William Demmason of the then Newcastle around 1908 ordered a beautiful French Ormolu Clock (don’t worry much about the adjective Ormolu, assume it means electroplated) from London and asked same to be delivered to his address in Western Australia. He was a prosperous carpenter and wheelwright that had a most important influence on the civic life in Newcastle, this was how he made his money. This was mistakenly delivered to Newcastle, New South Wales ( a tale of two Newcastles) – as were many items around that time. The clock sat unclaimed in New South Wales for a few years. Sir John Forrest (then serving in Federal Parliament), was passing through Newcastle, New South Wales when his attention was drawn to the clock and by chance happened to know Demasson. He realised that the clock had been sent to the wrong Newcastle and made arrangements for the clock to be sent to Demmasson in Newcastle, Western Australia, the originally intended address. This incident is known to have significantly contributed to the request for a change in the town’s name.
The new name, Toodyay, is believed to be derived from an Aboriginal word ‘Duidgee’ which means ‘Place of Plenty’, referring to the richness and fertility of the area and the reliability of the Avon River. As I was made to learn, it is pronounced “two gee” as in 2G.
So why should anyone visit Toodyay?
First, it is a very short drive from Perth and within a day’s trip. It is a leisurely 90kms drive North East of Perth following the Reid Highway and Toodyay Road. Second, it happened to have been adjudged and won the cleanliest town title in Australia in 2015. Thirdly, it is an exciting location with unspoilt beauty nestled within the Avon River Valley and a host of the 2 day annual Avon Descent race where paddles and powerboats compete over a course spanning 124 gruelling kilometres. Of course, it also hosts the International Food Festival. Lastly, for the history buffs, it has its dark side as well. It happened to be the town where, in 1861, Western Australia’s notorious bushranger Moondyne Joe was imprisoned for stealing a horse, but escaped.
As I was planning for the weekend, I came across a trip suggestion that will take me from Perth, North Eastwards to Toodyay, to Northam and back to Perth. This was recommended as a worthwhile day trip to visit these towns, located in the Avon Valley showing the splendour of the beautiful Avon Basin. Without much ado, I looked up the towns on my Hema Map and made up my mind on visiting these places.
I woke up a bit late on Saturday and did not set out of Perth till about 11:30am. The Explorer, my favourite companion on adventure trips like this, shows the fuel gauge at half tank and the journey started. I headed out on the Reid Highway before diverting north eastwards on the Toodyay Road.
Always knowing that the journey is more important than the destination, as I made my way towards Toodyay, I came across a sign that says “Scenic Lookout”. I took the turn to the left on O’Brien road and immediately was on a beautiful tree lined road. It was a well paved road but a lonely drive on which I met not more than 6 other vehicles for the 16km stretch leading to the Walyunga National Park and passing through some beautiful agricultural farmlands on both sides of the road. It is a typical Australian countryside look, most recommended for those looking for a bit of solitude away from the hustle and bustle of Perth. On reaching Walyunga, I pulled the Explorer into a parking spot and met a family coming up the hill from the park. Two lovely kids, below 7years of age, leading their father and mother up the hill and pulling all the tantrums kids of that age are known for. The kids approached me and we chatted a bit, while I pulled out my cameras from the vehicle. I soon headed downwards from the parking spot only for the rains to say “thou shall move no further”. I dared the rain to stop me and walked a little while enjoying the breath taking sights of the distant hills and that of the Avon River flowing joyfully in the valley below, next to the train lines. I wished the rain would stop, and it did. I hurried back into the Explorer and soon started crawling downhills in this beast of a machine and out of nowhere hopped a grey Kangaroo across the path the Explorer was taking. As I had been told numerously, if you a Kangaroo, another is close on its tail. This held true as the other came and hopped after the first one. Their movement was too fast for me to pull out my camera and record the video. I continued the descent down the hill and soon found out that the trail leads nowhere. Disappointed, I turned the Explorer uphill and left the park, turning left to join Clenton Road and continued the trip to Toodyay.
Time was running against me and I put my foot down on the gas pedal, joyfully cruising towards Toodyay while I had Ebenezer Obey’s music playing softly. I came across another attraction sign pointing left with the words “Scenic Drive”. The allure was in the name of the drive – Lovers Lane. I was captivated by the need to know why this name for the lane and pulled the Explorer into the lane. My enthusiasm was pleasantly rewarded.
At the intersection with Cobblers Pool Road, Lovers Lane changed to River Road and here it runs parallel with the Avon River. It was a lovely sight and soon I started picking up the sounds of water crafts on the river. My attention was transfixed to where the sound was coming from and I saw not one, but four boats, each with two occupants, speeding down the river. The occupants were with head helmets and the boats were brightly painted. It sort of raised my curiosity, did I miss something or what was this about? Another boat soon followed. This time, the engine stopped suddenly. I could see the two occupants working frantically to get the engine going again, and they did. I pulled the Explorer into a shade, and went to explore the neighbourhood. I crossed the road, headed across the rail line into the surrounding bushes around the Avon River. There were barbwires preventing access, not being sure of private property rights in Australia, I backtracked to the Explorer. This was not until I had taken some lovely pictures of the surrounding hills and vegetation.
The cruise towards Toodyay continues and had to drive through a flooded part of the road. A roadside marker, by the rushing water, shows the depth of the flood and nothing looked unsafe here. With the shocks of the Explorer having been raised, giving the already rugged Landcruiser extra-ordinary clearance, this was not a threat. I got the vehicle through the water slowly and as I did this, my mind quickly flashed to a similar experience that I encountered on the Ore-Ondo Road in South Western Nigeria. The attention to safety here in Australia, was not lost to me. The marker provides enough information to passing motorist on the depth of the raging water across the road. This wasn’t there on the Ore-Ondo Road and we had to wade through the deep waters, all at our own risk. I recalled having written his in my write up about the experience in Idanre:
“the rainwater has washed onto the road and for those unfamiliar with the road, we had to wait to be sure it was motorable. It was just brownish water all over!”
The road was lonely and meanders here and there. On the sides of the road are cropped farmlands with their lush green vegetation with a couple of homesteads. It was a beautiful sight to behold. A hill, in front, requires the engine of the Explorer to roar to live to mount the undulating hill without qualms and quickly following was a steep descents that required me to put pressure on the brakes. Soon, I got into Toodyay, entering the quiet town from the side of the old court house. A turn to the left, another to the right and then right again brought me directly in front of the Connors Mill Museum. A little further ahead was the Visitor’s Centre, which in actual fact is connected to the Connors Mill.
I pulled the Explorer into a vacant park spot and made my way into the visitors’ centre. A notice at the entrance to the centre, warning of the preponderance of snakes around the Avon Valley caught my attention. I was attended to by a lovely mid-age lady along with another man. Both were friendly. When I was told that my arrival was a week too early, I felt disappointed. The annual Avon Descent and the Toodyay International Food Festival would be taken place just the next week. I didn’t know of this when I set out from Perth. I was encouraged to take a walk around the river bed and not to leave town until I see the Church of Saint Steven, the Cola Museum, the Victoria Hotel as well as the Memorial Hall, all within walking distance from the Visitors Centre. I said my thanks and headed towards the river. This was not without asking how safe I would be from the snakes and getting assured that, given the coldness of the winter months, I am most unlikely to have any encounter with these warm blooded reptiles.
As I crossed the road and walked through the premises of Saint Steven Church, I was captivated by the simplicity in the design of the church and yet its iconic character. The church opened its doors for worship on 9 May 1862. Acting like an Angel guarding the church is a lone flooded gum tree that some said is over 400 years old. The tree had stood the test of time and you don’t talk of the church without mentioning this lone gum tree.
I took a left turn and came directly to the Newcastle Bridge upon the Avon River. The clear waters of the Avon here was alluring and I couldn’t resist the temptation to dip my feet in the river while watching the water gently flowing down on its course through the Walyunga National Park to join the Swan River. My attention was soon captured by stubs of woods in rows of two that crossed the river at nearly the exact point where the current Newcastle Bridge is. It didn’t’ take long for me to realise that these were the stubbles of the old bridge pillars. It was a case of the old haven given way to the new so that refreshing times could come. My thoughts lingered on these for a while as I deeply reflect on my own journey on this side of eternity and how we, as humans, constantly struggle against giving up the old to allow the new to take root. The stubs look ancient but without them, there would not have been a Newcastle Bridge and all the glory and splendour showered on the new bridge is because it has an antecedent that it replaced. A few more speed boats came running down the river. Being more enlightened now from the conversation that I had at the visitors centre, I did understand that all these were in preparation for the big race the following Saturday.
I moved on and took a leisurely stroll through Stirling Terrace, the major street where commercial activities abound in the city. I walked past a few restaurant and then the Memorial Hall. At the Federation Square, I came across the inscription by the town acknowledging the traditional Noongar people as the owners of the Toodyay area. I sighed, Australia, finally came to terms with its wild and chequered history and is valuing Aboriginal heritage.
A little beyond this, at the intersection between Duke Street and Stirling terrace stood the Victoria Hotel, in all its splendour. You can’t miss it. Despite its age, its beauty remains charming and its unique architectural characteristics will make anyone marvel. It is a testament that the craftsmen of yesteryears were really talented. Of course, weren’t these of the stock that built the great pyramids of Gaza? I felt I had seen enough of the town and headed back towards the Explorer, his time looking for where to have a meal to wade off my hunger. I was attracted by the aroma of grilled steak coming from my right. I walked in and discovered it was an Indian Restaurant. What have Indians got to do with steaks? Isn’t it a taboo to kill a cow? Alas these are no more mainland Indians but Australian Indians. I asked for a burger.
I got back into the Explorer and it dawned on me that I had lost so much time wandering around Toodyay and I still had to get to Northam. The Explorer roared to life and we meandered through Stirling Terrace, next to the railway tracks and headed to Northam. Just near the intersection with Hamersley Street is a giant display, a Visitor Information post, Toodyay is committed to attracting tourist to the town. I was captivated by it and pulled the Explorer into the parking space. The display tells the history of Toodyay and its glory as the tidiest town in Australia in 2015 and being the WA State category winner in 2016 for Heritage and Culture.
As I left Toodyay, I promised myself that I would be back. I would be back the week after to experience the Avon Descent and the International Food Festival.
Mirrabooka Harmony Day
I love Quora. It’s a simple app from where the least endowed of us can obtain wisdom. At no cost. As I picked up my phone this morning, the question on Quora was “Which is better, Canadian or Australian Citizenship”? The answers to this question, focussed on life expectancy, cost of living, economy and of course, racial harmony. It was on the latter that Australia trails Canada, according to one of the writers. I was still thinking about this when I saw a post on facebook relating to racial discrimination. I couldn’t held myself from commenting and so I joined the conversation.
Australia is a culturally diverse country, it owes this to the history of how the island state came to be. Being a penal colony, it became home to people of different creed and shapes from England and as it matures, came to represent the land of freedom for many. Australia takes diversity and cultural inclusion seriously. To demonstrate it, it has set aside the 21st of March every year as harmony day. In fact, it has a website devoted to this available here.
Harmony Day is a celebration of cultural diversity – a day of cultural respect for everyone who calls Australia home. The message of Harmony Day is ‘everyone belongs’, the Day aims to engage people to participate in their community, respect cultural and religious diversity and foster sense of belonging for everyone. Since 1999, more than 70,000 Harmony Day events have been held in childcare centres, schools, community groups, churches, businesses and federal, state and local government agencies across Australia.
Mirrabooka is a suburb of Perth with a large presence of immigrant population. I refer to this suburb as “little Sudan”. Everywhere you go, you are not far from a person that has his ancestry from Sudan. So it was a pleasurable choice to have this suburb hosting the Harmony Day for 2017. By the time we showed up at the event, the sprawling car park was fully taken up and we had to pack some distance away.
Entering the hall, we were pleased to see an African Dance Troupe performing for the audience. The sight of the Ghanian Drums, wrapped in Kente clothes. The beating of the drums was irresistible and I couldn’t stop myself from saying my body to its rhythm. Across the hall were various stands promoting services to support racial inclusion in the society. I spent some time at the Islamic stand where I was attended to by a teenage lady all wrapped up in black with a black hijab. She was extremely polite. Displayed at the stand was a free offer to have one’s name written in Arabic. I told her my name and she wrote this on a piece of paper in Arabic. Thereafter, I requested her to tell me the meaning of my surname in Arabic. She struggled a bit with this and called another younger lady to help. Try as they did, all I could be told was that it was the nickname of the first Caliph of Islam, a friend of the prophet. I wanted more. I have been told that it meant “noble promise” but unfortunately my search for the meaning continues on another day.
At another stand, I was invited to enter a competition on diversity by answering a simple question. It was the stand of the Equal Opportunity Commission, an outfit of the Government of Western Australia. The question seems simple but deserves a lot of thought. It stated “Why do we have laws protecting us from discrimination and harassment”? I was given a whole sheet to answer but with the option of making my answer as short or lengthy as I chose. I simply wrote “Our diversity is strength. Without laws, the strength in our diversity will thrive as weakness. Laws help to promote the best in our individuality and thus help to shape society better collectively”. That was the best answer I could give, impromptu. Some folks probably would have done better.
The police stand and its officers were delightsome. We had two (2) officers dressed in a highland dress – a combination of the Western Australian police uniform and a kilt. Also, on hand and portraying that the Police is part of the society was a lady officer dressed in the police uniform with a black hijab and matching black trouser. Outside was a police van and the officers were taken families to explore this.
Somewhere in the crowd, I caught a glimpse of the Mayor of the city of Stirling, Councillor Giovanni Italiano JP. I don’t know how old he is but I have been told that he has lived within the Osborne ward of the council for more than 60 years! That alone deserves some respect as it shows stability. I approached him and wanted to know about the council’s efforts towards promoting diversity and cultural inclusion in the city. He pointed out the current event at Mirrabooka and would introduce me to an officer of the council with direct responsibility for this.
As I left the event, my belief in Australia as a race tolerant country increased. It is the diversity of the people that makes Australia a great place to live.
Indian to Pacific Ocean by Road – Part III: Boondi Rocks to Cocklebiddy
This is Part III of our expedition report – the road trip from Perth in WA across the Nullabor and reaching the shores of Sydney with detours to Adelaide, Melbourne and Canberra along the way. The trip video, once fully edited will be shared by K2TV vide its YouTube site.
It wasn’t long for us to get to Coolgardie and we had to refill our fuel. A little pricey but we knew that the price would increase as we continue on the trip. The trip southwards on the Coolgardie–Esperance Highway was easy, except that we had to be careful with the Road trains. In passing through Coolgardie, we had avoided getting to Karlgolie and as such missed the opportunity to see the 1st of the 18 holes of the Nullabor Links – the World’s Longest Golf Course. It spans 1,365 kilometres with one hole in each participating town or roadhouse along the Eyre Highway, from Kalgoorlie in Western Australia to Ceduna in South Australia. Each hole includes a green and tee and somewhat rugged outback-style natural terrain fairway. We came across the other 17 holes as we travelled the Eyre Highway eastwards. We got to Norseman near mid-day and decided to take a break. I looked at the price displayed at the BP station and shook my head, a little pricey I said.
Norseman has a queer history. The town was said to have derived its name from a horse. Yes, a horse that made its owner rich. It was said that the horse had been tethered to a stable but ,using its hoof, it scratched the ground and revealed a nugget of gold. To us, Norseman was the point where we would make a go, no-go decision. My wife and I looked at each other, said a little prayer and we agreed – to the Pacific Ocean we head. As to the town itself, we saw little of this as we headed out eastwards. On our return journey, we took some time out in the town and will talk about this later.
From Norseman, our trip took an eastward direction on the Eyre Highway which leads to Port Augusta in South Australia. From its little beginnings in 1941, the highway was completed in 1976 and now act as the major artery for land transportation between the east and the west. We soon drove past the Dundas Nature Reserve, on to the Fraser Range headed to Balladonia. The traffic has thinned down to trickles by now and it was a sign of things to come. This is the road less travelled.
Belladonia:
Our plan was to drive as far as Caiguna and pass the night there. However, on reaching Balladonia, we couldn’t resist the urge to explore the little settlement. It was here that the US Skylab Space Station came crashing in 1979, 38 years ago. We walked into the roadhouse and visited the museum. A large piece of Skylab is still on display here, the letters “UNI STAT” were the only things clearly visible on the remains. Harley Davidson enthusiast will love the exhibit as well. A section is dedicated to the Perth to Sydney overland tour between 1926 and 1927 which showcases the ruggedness of the Harley bikes. A space in the wall has a car encased with occupants breaking through. It was a dedication to the REDEX endurance rally round-Australia in the 1950s. There were other artifacts in the museum, the essence being to promote Belladonia as a tourist destination.
We got back into “The Explorer” and continued on our eastward journey. Caiguna was the target for our next stop. Our pre-trip planning had informed of the “90 Mile Straight” being between Belladonia and Caiguna on this highway. We were looking forward to the drive but little did we know that it was that close to where we were. As we pulled out of Belladonia, we made a bend and there it was – the “90 Mile Straight”. The signpost was big enough but we could have missed it in a blink. We pulled up by the sign and took some pictures and a video clip. This is Australia’s longest straight road stretching for 145 kms towards Caiguna. What spurred the road engineers to creating this, we may not know. According to the theory of everything, as proposed by me, it was not created by design but must have occurred naturally. With the Nullabor being a flat topographical land, the engineers had no hills to contend with and a straight line being the shortest distance between two points became the way to go.
One would think that driving on a straight road is “easy pitzy”, wrong! Getting on the 90 Mile Straight was not without its dangers. With no curves, bends or sharp turning, it is a battle against weariness and sleep. Everything looked the same, as the Explorer sped on at the legally allowed 110km per hour. What one sees a minute ago is the same as what one sees now. The scenery was monotonous and except for a break here and there by the passing of another lonely, and probably weary, driver, all that confronts the eyes was a long stretch of open road. You can almost see the curvature of the earth as you look into the distance. We needed no other lecture to agree that the Earth is truly round.
The other lecture that we wouldn’t be needing as well is about the food chain. Collisions between Kangaroos and Vehicles in the Australian Outback is a fact of life. it’s not if, it’s always when. The Kangaroos will keep on sprinting and attracted by the lights f vehicles, will sprint across the roads. The vehicles will not stop driving and hence collisions will happen. When it does, the poor Kangaroos pay with their lives. Nothing gets wasted in the outback. Minutes after death comes calling, the bird of preys will visit. As we drove on the 90 Miles Straight, sights of giant Eagles and other birds feasting on dead Kangaroos became the norm. The Eagles feast alone, and seeing these bird with their claws and beaks, they got our respects. By the time the eagle has gotten its fill, the other birds come to pick theirs and soon, very soon, nothing remains of Skippy, except the bones and maybe the tough skin. These decompose and no race of Skippy remains again. The food chain demonstrated in our full glare.
Caiguna:
We reached Caiguna in good time. 5kms away from Caiguna, we saw the signpost pointing us to divert to our right to see the blowhole. We have encountered blow holes before and we couldn’t immediately convinced ourselves to branch. The decision was made for us when the dirt beated 4WD truck that was ahead of us took a turn towards the blowhole. If he could, we can. We diverted. With our attentions focussed on the truck, we kept on its trail inwards for another six minutes on a dirt road through the shrubs, all the time spinning to the sky brown dirt from the road. Just a little further ahead, the 4WD decided it had gone as far as he would and turned back. We were convinced that the blow hole was still a little further inland and continued until we reached the end of the road. Out there we came across two families of Kangaroos in the bush, they took to their hills skipping across the wide plains. Watching as these cross our path with surprising agilities, we were mesmerized. These animals can cover long distances with short bursts of speed. No blow holes were seen. Dejected, we turned back and headed for the main road. In a little clearing as we were about to join the road, was the blow hole. We laughed at our stupidity in following the 4WD all along.
The blow hole at Caiguna was created from a series of underlying caves created out of the limestone formation. The caves are alive and breathing. When caves ‘breathe’, the air pressure falls and rises. The Caiguna blowhole breathe more vigorously than all the other caves in Australia. It is said air movement at the cave entrance can reach around 72 kilometres per hour. At the blowhole, one can feel the earth breathing through the air currents.
I don’t think it’s worth spending any time here. It is an attraction that is well blown out of proportion. Our discovering them was actually surprising. We had seen a signpost directing us to the holes and we took a turn to our right. Just ahead of us was a caravan pulling 4 wheel drive. It seemed not to be bothered with the unevenness of the unsealed road. It was spilling up dusts and we were in hot pursuit, wrongly believing that the holes were much further away. After a couple of minutes on its tail, the 4 WD took a surprising U-turn and headed towards us. It soon got past us and we were left to find our way, either forward or backwards. We surged forward. Our adventure was well rewarded with the sight of a family of kangaroos that were in the bushes. On sighting us, they took to sprinting away from the side of the unsealed road. We soon got to the end of the road and there was no sign of any blowhole. We were dejected and had to return the way we came. As we were about to join the Eyre Highway, we finally saw the holes, they were just right in front of us and had our attention not to have been diverted by the caravan pulling 4wd, we most likely would have seen them earlier. The fading write up next to the hole talked about its formation and the fact that most of the coastal land in the area are limestones.
Cocklebiddy:
We continued our journey and arrived Cocklebiddy late in the evening. Cocklebiddy started as an Aboriginal mission station, of which only the stone foundations remain today. In replacement is a roadhouse, next to the highway. My wife went in to book a spot for us to set up camp for the night. She came back with a bill of $25.
Just outside, in the open, was a black slate on which the population of the town was written. It informed that there were 8 people inhabiting the area along with 1,234,567 Kangaroos! I was too tire to ask the reasonable question – How was the Kangaroo census conducted? We don’t know but the sign accurately reflects the notion – there are more Kangaroos in Cocklebiddy than people. We paid for a caravan spot and met some other families already settled into various spots for the night.
Cocklebiddy is best seen as a hamlet made of a roadhouse and a filling station. I think it was an abandoned mining site that has been redeveloped for catering to the needs of weary travellers on the long sojourn to cross from Western Australia to South Australia. The amenities in the caravan park were good. The usual option – powered sites, non-powered sites, bathroom, toilets etc. It was here, in Cocklebiddy, that we came across faith in the most desolate of places. There were these two gals who have arrived Cockle biddy earlier than we did. With piercings on the body of one and tattoos all over that of the other, their appearance caught our attention. We, in our minds, had rushed to judge these two ladies as low lives and probably of no good. For whatever reasons she had, Saf stirred up a conversation with the ladies and the sweetness of their Spirit began to be revealed. We got to learn that they were on a journey to attend “Adelaide for Christ” and they have met in Perth and became friends only a few months ago.
In the morning, our lady friends were already prepared to leave before we came down from our tent. We asked for permission for an interview and this was granted. We did a few basic questions and answers and thereafter a call to prayers was made by the ladies. It was just so touching to realise that these young ladies did have Christ in their minds. As we prepared to leave, we found a large rectangular enclosure containing two giant bird. These were Eagles. Looking at these birds at close distance brings about a better appreciation of what an Eagle is. The claws at their feet, the massive wing-span, said to be as long as 2.5m and their sheer strength are humbling. They however look sad, probably because of they were in a cage. The Golf across the Nullabor has a hole here in Cocklebiddy named Eagles Nest, most likely named because of these rescued Eagles in Cocklebiddy. It is a par 4 hole.
—-Continued in Part IV—-
Indian to Pacific Ocean by Road – Part II :Perth to Boondi Rocks
This is Part II of our expedition report – the road trip from Perth in WA across the Nullabor and reaching the shores of Sydney with detours to Adelaide, Melbourne and Canberra along the way. The trip video, once fully edited will be shared by K2TV vide its YouTube site.
It took less than an hour to get to Meckering, a town not far from Perth. We had been here before, during our trip to the Goldfields-Esperance region. The trip from Perth to Meckering was not a difficult one, though the traffic was not light. It was time to have a nature break and we pulled the Explorer off the road into a shade.
The saying goes that “people can tell you where they were when Kennedy was assassinated, when Armstrong landed on the moon and when Meckering had its earthquake”. It is a way of emphasising how extensive the Meckering earthquake was, touching 6.9 on the Ritcher’s scale. The day was 14th October 1968 and it was 10:59am when all changed for Meckering. The earthquake was so intense that it shattered windows as far away as Perth, 130 kms away. A fault line was created as a result of the quake. It is almost 5 decades after and the fault line has been filled and built up in a number of areas but one can still get to see a little section of this in the town. A road sign further down the road provides directions on how to get to see the fault line.
An open shed, on the right of the road as you travel eastward towards Karlgolie, is dedicated to telling the story of the earthquake. A section of the C.Y O’Connor’s pipeline is exhibited here and is said to have been removed from its original location and tossed some distance away. One can see the crack in the thick steel that the pipeline section was made of. The write-up on the wall also mentioned severe damage to the railway tracks linking Perth to Karlgolie. Visitors are encouraged to visit the town to see a preserved area where the fault has not been built up since the earthquake occurred.
A house, resembling a modern camera, stands a little further away from the open shed. It is the Big SLR Camera Museum, dedicated to the history of the Camera. Camera devices are so popular and affordable these days that many had forgotten that life had not always been like this. As I write this piece, the developers of the digital camera were being awarded the £1m Queen Elizabeth Prize, the highest award for engineering feats. This museum helps to fill the knowledge gap on how we transition from the age of the pin-hole to the digital cameras. Apart from the unique design of the building, there was nothing inviting on the outside. In reality, the outside presents itself as a derelict of a filling station that had been pulled out but the environment was not fully restored. Gothic in appearance and can do with a good make-over. We had also visited this museum previously and had taken pictures there and were not of any interest to do this again.
As we return to the Explorer, we met a mother and her two daughters heading towards us sipping cold drinks from paper cups they were holding. It was hot, really hot. It seemed as if the Sun was angry with the Earth and decided to scorch her to death! We exchanged pleasantries and talked about the heat. They were heading towards Perth. I drove the Explorer across the road and it was time to satisfy the thirsty beast.
The Great Eastern Highway connects Perth to the gold town of Karlgolie-Boulder. It is a well trafficked road and aptly called the Road Train route for a reason. The road trains were many. They serve as the vital artery that sustains commerce in Perth as a result of its remoteness. The Merredin Tourist Bureau has a signage erected on the highway to show that it holds the World Record having successfully gotten a 610.7m long road train with 45 trailers travel a distance of 8.67kms on 3rd April 1999. There is no reason to doubt this record, we left the site with an agreement that if the record truly exists, we don’t know of anywhere else in the world that would have been more suitable for this.
We soon came across the Rabbit Proof Fence. At, 3,253 km (2,021 mi). It is said to be the longest fence in the world though evidence exists that the Dingo Fence of South-East Australia is actually longer. The Rabbit Proof Fence, at the time it was completed in 1907 was a demonstration of ingenious solutions to problems encountered by the Australian farmers. Unlike the Berlin Wall, erected to keep people out, the Western Australia Rabbit Fence was erected to keep rabbits out of farmlands.
The Rabbits came on the First Fleet, along with the convicts. Then they became a problem as they are extremely prolific creatures and
spread rapidly across the southern parts of the country. The conditions in Australia were ideal for a rabbit population explosion and farm losses from rabbit damage grew. Western Australia’s response, to contain this damage, was to construct the Rabbit Proof Fence. It is now known as the State Barrier Fence, regularly maintained.
I left the rabbit proof fence site with a lesson – history can be unfair. Thomas Austin, whomever he was, must have received accolades in 1859 when he released 24 wild rabbits for hunting purposes. In so doing, he has, much later, became the brunt of blame for introducing this pest to Australia.
As we proceeded on our journey towards Coolgardie, we drove past the town of Cunderdin, the site of one of the No. 3 Steam Pumping Station for the goldfields water supply scheme built in 1901-1902. The town has a weird building, standing next to the highway. It is the replica of Ettamogah Pub, originally devised by cartoonist Ken Maynard and featured from 1959 in the Australasian Post magazine.
By the time we approached Coolgardie, it was getting late for continued safe driving. We chose the Goldfields National Park as a resting place and met not less than eight other groups camping there. We picked a nice spot and parked the Explorer. It was my job to set up the tent for the night, my very first real experience with camping in a tent. I struggled, but eventually got the tent up. The camping ground was lovely and we were surrounded by nature. A few meters in front of us was the Boondi Rock, a massive outcrop of igneous rock. To the left was a man-made dam, one that had stood the test of time. It was made to provide water for the locomotive steam engines of yesteryears. It was an ingenious solution – channelling the rain water into a huge reservoir. Water is scarce and difficult to come across in the goldfields. We had our meal and soon climbed into the tent for a deserved rest after the long day trip.
In the morning, the flies were already out. What a nuisance these were? They are also proud features of Western Australia and the Boondi Campground is no exception. We took a walk around the park, visited the dam and proceeded to the top of the Boondi rock. Weathering was silently at work, as it had been through the ages, helped by the continuous changes in temperatures from cold nights and morning to hot steaming afternoons. The top layers of the rock was flaking and cracking. We saw the skilful use of these rock pieces to create a water channel leading into the dam. The water in the dam and the vegetation it supports have attracted different species of coloured birds to the area. Chirping and darting around the shrubs, they add some vibrancy to life in this area. Salmon gum trees were all around the park and the occasional sounds of the road trains passing on the nearby highway is the only noise that pierce this serene atmosphere.
A couple were camping directly next to the dam and they volunteered to be interviewed. We completed the interview and exchanged pleasantries. The man is an Australian Nurse and stays in Kalgoorlie while the lady, a French national was on her way back to Perth, the city we had just left. We went back to our tent and I started the process of pulling it down and folding it up. My wife took the time to prepare a meal for us and we were soon on our way.
—-Continued in Part III—-
Indian to Pacific Ocean by Road – Part I: Starting Out
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Veni, Vidi, Vici so Julius Ceasar was quoted to have said and I can beat my chest and say the same. We came, we saw, we conquered. Suffice it to say that you should venture out of the coastal cities of Western Australia only if you are in love with
spinifex shrubs, salmon gum trees, long desolate arid land and smelling dead Kangaroos. If I stophere, it will be grossly unfair. There are great rewards for this uncommon excursion. The amazing stretches of beaches, undulating rolling hills, land formations and the impressive wine country sceneries that you will start experiencing, once you overcome your fear and cross the wide desolate lands are sights that are uncommon in other parts of the world.
The wide open roads appeal to me, in a way that I am still yet to fully comprehend. I seem just unable to resist its call. So I can understand your “what-in-the-heck” feeling on reading this to discover it’s all about one of the longest road expedition known to man. It probably has to do with a sense of adventure, not really knowing what little secret lies behind the next bend or turning on a road. I have done my fair bit of driving, to places that many would just get aboard a plane and fly to. I seem to have a satisfaction in the old age adage that stress the importance of the journey rather than the destination. Flying, for adventures, is not my thing. It simply denies the traveller the experience of the diversity in this beautiful planet that we have been made custodians of. That little cottage on the road, the thriving community in the middle of nowhere, the undulating plains and rolling hills, the magical meeting of the land and sea, the unplanned meeting with the wild – a lone or group of animals crossing the road in search of a meal. The traveller is denied all these experiences and more, when he travels by air. He gains time but loses the opportunity to become one with nature and appreciate its true beauty and diversity.
My recent fascination was to connect with the Pacific Ocean from the Indian Ocean by land. It was a modern day expedition of the sort that Edward John Eyre made in 1840 to reach Western Australia. Ours was to find a route to the city of Sydney on the Pacific Ocean by land from the warm waters of the Indian Ocean that bathe the beautiful city of Perth. Of course many have done this prior to us but we set out to have a unique adventure, like that of no other. To pull this off, we needed a strong will and a great sense of adventure.
The sheer thought of the adventure itself was enough to put many people off. An Hema map of Australia will quickly remind those who have forgotten that Australia is not only a country, it is also a continent. Add to that, the fact that it is a very big continent with the inter land mostly arid. The distances are huge. Perth to Sydney by road without any detour is 3,934 kms. That is daunting and for me, a trip must involve detours. The must-see places are usually away from major roads and I needed to visit these places, experience them, document them and take one or two lessons with me about human civilization and achievements.
The first task was to choose a means of transportation, a beast of burden so to say. The choices were many and the costs varied. We settled on the Toyota Landcruiser. It is simply unbeatable and is widely regarded as the King of the Roads. For Australia’s rugged terrains and harsh weather conditions, the Landcruiser is a capable vehicle. No wonder, Australia is regarded as the Cruiser Country.
The Explorer:
The “Explorer” is what you get when you take an already off-road capable Toyota Landcruiser 200 Series, adjudged as the King of the road, and upgrade it. It wasn’t an easy task to get a vehicle retrofitted with the kind of equipment we have on the Explorer. Each of the added upgrade was made to address some perceived risks on this expedition. First, the long range fuel and water tank. The distances in this southern land are enormous and fuel prices are penal in the interior. Replacing the factory fitted 45 litres Petrol Auxiliary Fuel Tank with a Longranger Combination Fuel and Water Tank (122L Fuel and 55L Water) was an amazing feat. This engineering marvel involved repositioning the extra tire from its space underneath the vehicle and using the empty space to hold the new tank.
The guys at ARB were a marvel. A bull bar was added to the vehicle. The Kangaroos that are ever sprinting around the country continue to be a danger to many vehicles. This ARB built bull bar is sturdy and made to also carry a few other equipment around. Mounted on it, was the UHF radio antenna. Getting stuck in any of the remote inland in this wide and sparsely populated continent is a possibility. The UHF radio would help to reach any of the truck drivers or other passer byes to assist with recovery. The Wintech Winch was a needed addition. Heavy and capable to winch the Explorer out of any danger that might have immobilized it. This comes with a prize, the enormous power means it is a heavy equipment and only the ARB bull bar was strong enough to keep it in place. Also mounted on the bull bar is a set of Halogen Lamps and an LED bar light. These were to aid in safe night driving on the bush roads and penetrating the thick darkness of the interior.
The Explorer is not complete yet, it has a raised suspension to increase its ground clearance. A second battery was added to serve as a backup to the main battery as well as provide power to camping equipment. An additional spare tyre was added and now positioned at the back as there is no longer any space underneath the vehicle. This was done by adding a Keymar Spare Wheel carrier at the back for the two tyres. At the top of the vehicle, a roof top tray was mounted. There were a few more accessories added but in general the Explorer is like no other.
Starting Out:
Armed with a Hema map, in addition to the in-vehicle GPS map, we plotted our trip. A day was chosen and we got flagged up on the trip from Perth. Peth to Coolgardie was an easy drive. As recent as two months ago, we had followed this road on another trip. Along the way, you will encounter the various pumping stations of the Goldfields Water Supply Scheme. In fact, the trip will seem like a competition between you, the seemingly unending pipeline and the train tracks. These trio, the road, the rail line and the pipeline, are of great importance to the development of the hinterland, especially the cities of Coolgardie and Karlgolie-Boulder. The most important? The pipeline. Not because it is carrying oil or any other mined commodity, it carries something much more precious. Water. Testaments, as to how precious this water is, are dotted along the lengths of the pipeline where signposts encourage the passers bye to call a certain number if they notice a leak. Depending on whom you ask, a beautiful story of vision, heroism, doggedness and a sad death would be told to you about C.Y. O’Connor – the Engineer responsible for conceiving and developing the pipelines. A 530km pipeline, taking water from Meredin to Karlgorlie was not a simple feat of engineering, even by today’s standard. Yet this was completed and commissioned in 1903, 113 years ago.