From one extreme to the other

From one extreme… (part I)

Since last I blogged, we have been from one extreme to the other. Geographically, from the south of WA’s west coast to its north. Temperature-wise, from the frigid, cloudy, windy sucky weather of Albany to the oppressive heat and humidity of the Kimberley.

The major constant, however, has been my desire to go home. I’m ready for a break from life on the road. But who knows how long that feeling will last once I get home.

As usual, it’s been a whirlwind trip. In the nine weeks between Australia Day and now, we packed in yet another dream trip.

We started with a quick side trip from Albany to Esperance.

Esperance is a town obsessed by whales, as evidenced by its public art.

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  Whale tails everywhere in Albany

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As we drove through nearby Cape Le Grand National Park it seemed that every beach was more beautiful than the one before. Surely the stunning scenery had to peak somewhere.

Lucky Bay is one of those beaches lauded for its beauty. And for its iconic “kangaroos on the beach” photographs. Unfortunately, there were no roos on the sand the first time we visited, and 40 4WDs on it the second. Instagram has a lot to answer for.

We climbed Frenchman’s Peak in Cape Le Grand National Park, one of those spur-of-the-moment things you do. “Oh, that hill looks fun to climb, yeah, there is a track, we can do this,” – not realising that it was a 45 degree ascent, with crazy winds, and a mind-blowingly huge cave and view at the top. It will remain a highlight.

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  There is a huge cave at the top of Frenchman’s Peak – you can see through from one side to the other . You could park a fleet of buses in it.

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  View from the top of Frenchman’s Peak

After getting hot hot hot climbing, I had to get into the ocean. At another Insta beach, I took a quick icy plunge – no pictures of me in my bikini necessary, for your own health. The water wasn’t quite as bad as in Albany, but it still had hypothermic tendencies. That was the last time I swam in the ocean before the temperate bathing of Coral Bay, 1800 kilometres north and several weeks later.

After Esperance, we hightailed it back to Geraldton, dodging Perth and its lockdown, and some torrential rain working its way south.

There, I worked for four-and-a-half weeks, waiting for the weather to cool up north and topping up the financial coffers.

After catching up with every Gero friend I could scrape up from my last stint there, we revved up the Mouse House for our much-anticipated northern adventure.

“Ooh, you’ll love it up there,” everyone said. That’s also what they said about down south, out east, Fremantle, etc. No-one’s been wrong yet.

We flew past Shark Bay, with its attractions of Monkey Mia and Cape Peron National Park, as we’d already tasted its delights last year.

Carnarvon was just an overnight stop for us, but it invoked memories of home as we reached the Tropic of Capricorn (where we live, but on the eastern end), and saw banana and mango trees for the first time in forever.

And how could we not stop at a place called Carnarvon, when we have one of those at home, with more of a gorge flavour? (Carnarvon Gorge, that is).

Coral Bay lived up to its name, with bountiful snorkelling right off the beach. I’ve never seen such a variety of reef fish in one spot. We took the car off-road and fanged through the sand dunes to Five-Finger Reef, and made good use of the snorkelling gear we’ve been dragging around.

But it was hot. Damned hot. Was I really complaining about being cold a few shorts weeks ago?

After three days of that (tongue-in-cheek) torture we drove through Exmouth and set up at Yardie Homestead, which was, you guessed it, also damn hot. Luckily it had THE BEST swimming pool for those hours when we weren’t snorkelling. And as tourism season hadn’t quite started, we mostly had it to ourselves.

Early starts were the go – there were two short bushwalks to conquer on on this west side of Cape Range. Yardie Creek bushwalk was short and easy, and netted photos of rare black-footed (or flanked, depending on which sign you read) rock wallabies, ospreys, sea eagles, and stunning red cliffs flanking the creek.

Mandu Mandu walk was only three kilometres, but just as pretty, with more of those red cliffs, a dry creek bed and rock-climbing in and out of side gorges.

After our bushwalks, we pretty much just went from beach to beach, exploring the different snorkelling spots. Turquoise Bay looked awfully uninviting the first day we went there, with white caps and a strong current, so we just walked along the beach – until we turned a corner, and there were 50 people snorkelling in the calmest bay you’d ever want.

The Oyster Stacks were also unmissable – though they don’t look like much above water. We checked them out at low tide, to see the stacks above the water, then returned to snorkel them at high tide. They were a nice drift snorkel, the first time we went. The second time, they were a bloody fast drift snorkel, more of a “did you see that, never mind, it’s gone, and the current is too strong so I’ll never get back to see it again” kind of snorkel.

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  Vlamingh Heads Lighthouse near Yardie Homestead

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The four days at Yardie Homestead flew, and it was time to move into Exmouth, where we had a cabin for the next week to share with my 21-year-old son, who was flying over from Queensland to see his neglectful mum for the first time in 15 months.

We gave him a day to settle in, then did the one thing I’ve been looking forward to since getting to WA – swimming with the whale sharks. And like most things you put expectations on, it wasn’t what I expected.

I thought it would be a calm, serene experience. That there would be time to bond with the whale sharks, make friends, put on a pot of tea. You know how humpbacks like people, and eyeball them, make a connection?

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  Kitting up, including stinger suits

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  Ready to go, go, go

No. This was more like an army training exercise. We were all kitted up with masks and fins on, legs over the back of the boat and at the cry “go, go, go” you’d jump in, look around madly for the spotter swimming in the water and then following their directions, swim like mad. Once you’d clocked a whale shark, you had to maintain a certain position in order to not freak it out, in which case it would go deep and be gone. Maintaining that position meant swimming hard to keep up with it, and boy do they move.

So at the first call we jumped in, the whale shark took a dive, we hauled ourselves back out again – not an easy task in the swell.

Having just regained our breath, it was go, go, go again. This time I got a good look at it… well, I saw it. From behind. For a few seconds. Then it dove deep.

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  A tantalising glimpse

Back onto the rear of the boat. And I realised I didn’t feel too good. The boat’s diesel fumes concentrated on the duckboard and ah shit, I wanted to vomit. I got myself back up the stairs and had a drink of water and felt mildly better, but my son was looking worse than me.

But the call came to get back in. I wasn’t ready to give up yet and I’d read you felt less seasick in the water. Neither my husband or son wanted to get back in. Chris reckoned he’d gotten a good-enough look at that whale shark. Really? For what we paid, I needed more.

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  Finally, the money shot!

So after a couple more false starts, go, go, go’s and getting on and off, wanting to spew, I hit the jackpot. I mustered my energy and swam alongside a beauty for what felt like forever.

Still, it didn’t stop and look me in the eye. No bonding whatsoever. I guess that’s just whalesharks for you.

Soon after we re-entered the outer reef, and my seasickness abated. We also had a couple of snorkels, putting the finishing touches on a magic day.

As the days passed, we took my boy to our favourite snorkelling spots, including a drift snorkel at the part of Turquoise Bay that hadn’t been inviting last time. This time we scored sharks and turtles. Bonus.

A drive into the east side of Cape Range revealed deep, plunging gorges, much more extreme than the other side.

An early morning bushwalk took us to some magnificent scenery, but the heat was too much for it to be truly enjoyable. We also spent a day 4WDing to Coral Bay, getting there in time to turn around and go back to Exmouth.

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  Cape Range from the east

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  Getting to here…

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  …resulted in this

After a week of practicing my mothering skills (to the extent you can on a 21-year-old, albeit a 21-year-old who swung off the bunks the second he entered our cabin), we put him back on the plane, with a promise to be home this year for Christmas.

See Part II for the rest of the story of our drive to the other extreme – Karijini to Broome.