Once again, I am writing this seated in a magnificent location. We have just arrived at the top of a cliff, overlooking plains that disappear over the horizon in all directions, midway through the Kimberly region. There was one dead tree nearby which has promptly become firewood (I beat the termites to it!!!). As dark fell, we had a fire burning, with our seat facing west watching the fire in the sky, which only moments before, had been yet another beautiful sunset. It's hard to imagine that down south, both in Victoria and down Perth way, the temperatures are so cold. We haven't had rain for a month or more and temperatures have been around 32-34 every day. We did have one occasion where it dropped to about 14 overnight, but mostly about 17-19 as a minimum.

So, back to our chronological saga…

You may recall mention, in Ramble number 9, of the amazing co-incidence and sequence of events that led me to contact a school friend I'd had until grade 4 at primary school. Well, I caught up with him (Rick) in Karratha and we got on really well, I think it amazed both of us. In many ways it didn't seem that 30+ years have gone by. Rick invited me to go with him on one of their ocean going Tug Boats, so now I've gone from a desire to have a look on a tug, to actually going for a ride on two different ones. The ones in Karratha are a lot bigger (about twice the size) than the one I went on in Esperance, but use a similar drive method. It was interesting to observe the change in technology in the engines. The new one in Esperance had engines half the size producing twice the power. We headed out on a 'millpond' sea to escort and birth a gas tanker that runs between Karratha and Japan. The tanker has four massive gas bottles and the ship actually runs on the gas that boils off the liquid as they travel!

My one big disappointment here was that I took heaps of photos (as usual) and in my haste to get some more, whipped the camera memory cartridge out, slapped the same one back in, deleted all the images and started taking some more - resulting in the loss of all the initial ones. Of course I am sure that they would have been the best photos of the lot… Ahh well, could have been worse, at least I got some.

We headed to the nearby town of Dampier to pay homage to the statue of Red Dog. Most of you reading this will probably not have heard of Red Dog, part of the history of the Pilbara area, who has since become a legend, epitomizing the spirit of the outback people. Born in 1971 in Paraburdoo (near Mount Tom Price), Tally Ho was a cross between the two great Australian breeds, a Kelpie and a Cattle Dog. When he was about 18 months old his 'family' were transferred to Dampier and Tally became a Hobo. He soon became known as Red Dog, a name that stuck like the dust to his fur. Many families tried to own him at different times, but he was a constant wanderer, regularly catching lifts in cars busses and trucks. He is known to have traveled to Roebourne, Point Samson, Port Headland, Broome and Perth on at least two occasions. His homing instinct was so good that he would always reappear in Dampier. This doesn't sound too much, until you consider that it covers an area that would include France, Switzerland, Germany, Poland and Greece, along with the other dozen or so countries in between! The stories relating to the character and exploits of this dog are both hilarious and astounding. I bought a talking book on CD as part of Marg's birthday present while we were in Perth, and we were fascinated by the 'tails' told as we traveled.

Between Dampier and Karratha is a beautiful little shell beach and a track off to the side leads to an ancient Aboriginal camp site with shellfish middens and rock paintings. We'd met some Pommy back-packers in the caravan park. These two girls seem to spend their entire trip giggling and watching TV and I suggested to them they might like to see the above. On our way to Dampier, we found them pulled over at a severe angle having nearly crashed after a rock smashed their windscreen. We helped them clear the glass and they returned to the park. The car(?) they are driving is a clapped out Volkswagen named Callum and which they were assured is a 'classic' and would be able to sell for a big profit when (if) they get it to Sydney. We have since met them numerous times including in Broome where they were towed into town and had to wait for a couple of weeks for a reconditioned engine to come up from Perth. Callum has now cost them over $5000 and they STILL expect to make a profit! They told us they were keeping a record of all the repairs to show potential buyers - I suggested they don't show the buyer all the repairs, or they mightn't have a buyer! We suspect we saw Callum a few nights ago, on the back of a semi-trailer headed for Darwin… The girls weren't the only unlucky ones at that caravan park, we saw a pall of smoke up ahead as we entered Dampier and found a car burning furiously - someone else's holiday upset!

The following couple of days were remarkable only by the length of the drive required to traverse what is really, featureless country. We made it to the Ule River and an overnight campsite by the river. It was a lovely spot and we lit a campfire on the sand/gravel bank, mainly to get away from the dust. We have now got to the stage where the dust has permeated virtually everything and everywhere and Marg despairs of ever getting some of the clothes clean again.

The next stop was Eighty Mile Beach and it was here we met up with my eldest sister Frances and her husband John. Fran & John are traveling the opposite way to us so we overlapped for five days. It was really good, spending hours each day sitting yacking, 4WDing along the beach and collecting shells at sunset.

At night we played card games etc. and the kids taught Fran & John to play the game 'Spoons'. It was hilarious, but we made so much noise I am surprised the neighbors didn't complain - it is NOT a game you can play quietly!
The second day we were there, they had a fundraising day with stalls and auctions, to raise money for the Flying Doctor service. The day included a horseshoe throwing competition and hamburgers for dinner, all the proceeds going to the cause - they raised $1800 which all agreed was a good effort.
Maddie found a Burrowing Snake on the beach and decided to keep it for a pet. Unfortunately the snake had other ideas and escaped after only a day. Despite being small and quite harmless, it was amazing how quickly word spread through the camp and numerous people were to be seen passing by suddenly making small jumps in the air and "What's that crawling up my leg - must be a snake" type comments, for the kids benefit. I am not sure whether we became famous or infamous, however the snake was promptly replaced with MANY hermit crabs. Some of the crabs were quite large and after both girls had been bitten, the number was reduced to two - at a size that wouldn't maim…
On one of our 4WDriving escapades along the beach, we let Marg out to look for shells and continued without her. Maddie was driving on the way back, and the tide had retreated so far out we lost Marg - didn't see her in the distance and drove right past. Making it back to camp without spotting her, we figured we'd better go look. At least I could claim to have been watching Maddie and had a good excuse! Unfortunately, Marg had spotted us and knew she'd been left behind….
All the way across the Nullarbor, the girls had high hopes of spotting some of the wild camels that roam there, with no luck. An hour or so after leaving Eighty Mile beach, we spotted some, nearly a kilometer away across the plain. We discarded our thongs (footwear not underwear) grabbed our runners and headed for the camels. Fortunately(?) we were downwind, so were able to get quite close before they saw us. They were huge, and their perfume wasn't one you'd buy…

My usual fishing record was upheld in Broome. We sauntered down to Gantheaume Point and Anastasia's pool (a small bathing pool cut into the rocks near the water, by a lighthouse keeper for his arthritic wife, filled by the waves). A guy fishing offered me his rod to "have a go" and I quickly caught half a dozen small fish and a big Gar Fish. I thought I'd go back there in the evening to try my luck. Maddie accompanied me, and now that I was using my own gear, I didn't catch a thing! Well, that's not entirely accurate as I did catch a bucket, twice! As he cast in, one of the others fishing there accidentally hooked their bucket, launching it out to sea. Night fell and I caught the bucket, the wave action and the water in it broke my line so I tried again…. A little while later I caught it again. Whilst I was trying to haul it in, Maddie stepped from one big flat rock to another, but missed the second, falling into the gap between. Her reactions caused her to fling herself forward, landing face first on a rock, puncturing a lip with her tooth, grazing her face, hip and shin and nearly breaking her nose. It could have been a lot worse of course, but it was enough to stop the fishing for the evening. (Quote from Maddie to Marg on arrival back at the van "I 'sniff' hab a weawlly 'sniff sniff' goob timeb Mum…" tear rolling down the bloodied cheek - but she never cried!)
We did have some pleasant evenings tho', including a BBQ with another family we keep meeting along the way (Nerrida. Bronwyn and their kids Rebecca, Rachel & Jack). They are using a camper trailer to go around Aus and had hired a unit for their time in Broome. It felt sooooo good to go to a loo that wasn't a public one, and had SOFT toilet paper… AHhhh some of life's pleasures are so simple… We also went to the open air picture theatre with them to see HorsePlay. It was a warm evening (mid 20's) and dinner was eaten whilst reclining and watching the movie - it wasn't until nearly the end of the film that I thought to look up at the starry sky and what was left of the moon.
We were lucky with the night we chose for the pictures as after that the evenings got very damp. The dew didn't just drip of things, it ran off. There was so much moisture, it was almost as if it was drizzling. Marg and I were both a little disappointed with Broome, whilst it was a nice place to visit, to us it wasn't quite the mecca so many had painted it to be. Even their magnificent Cable beach, which was wide and long, wasn't as nice as some we've seen. The sand was hard as hell and it was a bit of a trek to access it. Definitely worth a visit, we stayed 8 days in a Big 4 caravan park that had 525 sites and only 3 amenity blocks for the whole park. On top of that, the amenities were only cleaned once a day. With over 1500 people, they must have been grossing over $20,000 a week and we felt the standard was poor. They are obviously out to fleece the tourist and make a killing in the process… we saw what we wanted to and cleared out.

After Broome came Derby where we arrived in time to attend a Poets Breakfast in the grounds of the swimming pool. When I say we arrived in time, we arrived in the town in time (the night before) but were fed mis-information about the format of the great event and that's all we were fed… we missed the breakfast part, but still enjoyed some bush poetry. Some old traditional poems written by Banjo etc were combined with some recent originals, our favorite being about life in a caravan park. Whoever had written that had obviously spent some time in one; the screech and thump of stabilizers being raised, diesels idling for half an hour outside the van window and many more made up the ditty - most were sounds we'd had the 'pleasure' of witnessing only that very morning. The setting was superb though, with palms swaying slightly, cloudless blue sky, lawn (a rare thing in this part of the country!), the water in the pool behind gurgling gently and the poets strutting their stuff, all added to a rather unique experience.

Two of Derby's claims to fame are an ancient (1500 years old. Pic - below right) Boab 'prison' tree used by early aboriginal slave traders to house their captives overnight, and the longest cattle trough in the southern hemisphere (Pic - below left. We also spent a night camped under another beautiful big old Boab.

Another of Derby's attractions is the tides. Derby experiences the largest tidal variation in Australia, often in excess of 12 metres. We were lucky enough to time our visit with some big tides, about 10 metres from low to high. King George Sound is a huge expanse of water and it still boggles my mind that so much water can rush in and out twice a day. We were standing on the wharf watching the loading of a island supply tender and observing the rate the water was flowing, when in the space of about 30 seconds it slowed stopped and immediately reversed direction as the tide began to come in. There was no 'slack time', though apparently there is about a 5 minute slack period at high tide. The photos below show the extremes.

From Derby, we headed out for a drive up the Gibb River Road, hundreds of kilometers of corrugations and dust. Fortunately for us, the first third was bitumen as we travelled to Winjanna Gorge and Tunnel Creek. The gorge was spectacular, but very hot. We trekked about 2.5Km's up the gorge, getting very close (about 2 metres) to some of the hundred or so croc's. The biggest one we saw was about 3.5 metres long (Pic - below right). He and I had a growling match. I was obviously in his personal space, on the river bank just above him. Eventually he swam away, but I can assure you that had he started to turn my way I would have run much faster than he swam! I loved the 'smile' on the one pictured below left...

Tunnel Creek is a natural feature that is really 'different'. Many thousands of years ago the area was covered by sea water. A massive coral reef became rock over time and the shellfish within fossilized as the sea water retreated, leaving a huge mountain range that meanders for more than 100km's. Tunnel creek initially flowed over this shear rock face, but small fissures within the 'reef' allowed water to seep through and eventually wash a huge tunnel through. Access was a little bit of a climb, but with torches shinning we traversed its length, often up to thigh deep in the water. Part way along the roof had collapsed allowing a great view of the sky and the roots of fig trees trailing 30 metres or more down for water. Once out the far end, Jess thought she'd have a swim in the waterhole, but regretted it afterwards as it made for a cold trip back through the tunnel. Also at the far end we found some Aboriginal paintings high up on the rocks. Apparently they knew of the access (available only in the dry season - the whole lot would be a roaring torrent in the wet) and used to successfully hide from the white constabulary for many years before it was finally discovered by whites.

We headed back to Derby after dark often crawling along at 40km/hr and even coming to a complete stop, due to the thick dust hanging in the air above the road. I was convinced there was a car traveling just in front of us, but this turned out to be not so… it was from vehicles, but it hung in the air for ages.

From Derby we headed to Fitzroy Crossing, timing our arrival for the 'big event', but more on that in ramble No. 11.