Author: Mark Anderson

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Day 82: 19 August – Dolphins on cue

Author: Mr A

From: Denham

To: Monkey Mia

Distance: 27 km

It was a 6.30am alarm and on the road by 7 to ensure we were in time for the briefing by the rangers who staffed the 'Dolphin experience' at Monkey Mia. 

For over 50 years dolphins have been fed here, initially by the fishermen who shared their catch with them. Dolphins, as we know, aren't daft and started turning up at the same stip of beach every morning licking their lips. Then the tourists started to flood in and the dolphins who came were breeding pups who didn't know how to hunt for their own fish because they had never seen mum do it. So the WA Wildlife folk stepped in during the early 1990s and now regulate the whole thing, with only a few snacks being delivered by the lucky few chosen from the hundred or so of us watching. 


It was a great experience to see these mammals up so close, literally metres away from the beach, rolling over, waving a flipper, and yet know although humanised they are still 'wild', and make a choice as to whether they turn up or not, and when.



We were back in Denham by lunch time and spent a very productive afternoon washing and cleaning…dull but necessary given everything is covered in red dust. That stuff can get inside a vacuum sealed flask…incredible.  

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Day 78: 15 August – Grand country

Author: Mr A

Location: Kennedy Range National Park

Distance hiked: 12 km

Floors climbed: 22

This is big, magnificent country with the sandstone escarpment of the Kennedy Range towering over our van. We had planned to go walking today if the weather fined up, and it had. So a foundational breakfast was called for. Using the fresh tomatoes, garlic, red onion and basil from the market gardens of Carnarvon we mixed up in the hand blender some bruschetta. I had spotted some packaged bread especially for bruschetta when we were in Woolworths. On inspection of the packaging it had actually been made in Italy, shipped to Brookvale (a kilometre away from our house in Sydney!) then onward to Caranarvon. Well travelled bread indeed. Tasted great though!


Fortified,we were on our way. The first walk took us up a steep path to the top of the escarpment, 800 metres above our van with views out over the plains. It was just a majestic place. 


After a clamber back down we marched off to the next walk around the side of the range. The rock formations were amazing. The colours of the rock are so different to anything we have seen before. Rich purples, glowing organge, huge blocks of rock strewn everywhere, it was quite an overwhelming landscape. We came to a huge natural amphitheatre and just sat there. I just listened to the sound of blood rushing through my ears, because the silence was so loud. It reached out and enveloped us in this beautiful stillness, That’s the magic of country.


Back at the camp, we wandered over to the communal fire. A dozen other campers were there, pretty much everyone on the site, and we just drank some wine and chewed the fat. A lovely bunch of people…again. From all walks of life…some Australians, a German paramedic travelling round on his own, it was another great opportunity to understand others’ perspectives on the life decisions that brought them to this place and time. 

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Day 76: 13 August  – “And that sounds like rain…”

Author: Mr A

We woke to the sounds of rain splattering on our dusty roof, hopefully it will clean up those solar panels! It wasn't a rush out of bed sort of day, but when we did we wandered out for lunch amongst the banana trees. Now I've never eaten lunch on a banana plantation, but I did think a banana smoothie might be the right way to start…and it was…delicious.


We drove around these small local farm shops picking up fresh veg, it was all so shiny and obviously right out of the ground. Tonight Mrs A's pad thai was full of these crunchy veg and herbs….OMG amazing. Such a lovely sweet and sour type of taste she conjures up. A good old Taylor's Shiraz from the Clare did us proud alongside those robust flavours. 

Not much else to report today. We showed some lovely folk who were staying on the caravan park around the van. They were interested in what the "Best Off-road Van of the Year" looked like from the inside. Splendid of course :) 

So, our fridge is bursting with fresh veg, our water tanks are all topped up, we are ready to hit the road in the morning…Ye hah. We are leaving the coast and heading for the hills. The Kennedy Range here we come. 

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Day 74: 11 August – Pavements and everything

Author: Mr A

From: 14 Mile Beach

To: Carnarvon

Distance driven: 196 km

Distance cycled: 18 km

We dragged ourselves away from our perfect little paradise and hit the road south to Carnarvon. It was quite exciting going to a town, our first one since Broome a couple of months ago. 

Our caravan site is….what caravan sites usually are…cramped and functional. We do our washing (we have managed to fix the washing machine with some help from Zone RV and our air compressor….don’t ask), we charge a few things that need 240v (not much, USB rules in our van), and head into town. There is a cycle way! Pavements! Traffic lights (ok, not really…but roundabouts!)! Mitre 10! A choice of petrol stations….wow. We’re a bit over awed. 


The town is actually quite appealing to us becuase it actually looks real rather than constructed purely for the extraction of the tourist dollar. We cycled in and followed the foreshore round to port. It was packed with hulking, real, working fishing boats….no tour operators, no tour buses, just a couple of sea food joints as the only place you could spend your money. What a change from every settlement since Kunnanurra down through the Kimberley and the Coral Coast. 


A beer was definitely called for, it was Friday arvo, and then we headed back to the van park and the production of a fine chicken Rogan Josh by Mrs A. Sadly the wine choice for the evening purchased from BWS in Port Headland was a shocker. If you see a Shiraz called “The Accomplice” smartly step away from the bottle. Yuck!


So we have wifi from the van park, its appallingly slow of course, but we do live in the lucky country….cough….to have the 52nd slowest broadband in the world. We switch to our mobile plan as its faster,  until it runs out. Ah Australia…if we were in Thailand, Kenya, Estonia or Bulgaria, then we would be better served by our internet providers. How did we get to this position? 

It’s weird going to bed hearing traffic noise tonight….

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Day 72: 9 August – A mucking about sort of day…

Author: Mr A

From: Warroora Sation

To: Coral Bay

Distance driven: 42 km


We awoke after the storm of last night to a blustery morning, so we decided a drive and a visit to Coral Bay was in order. We had skipped this little settlement on the way down from Exmouth so thought we would emerge from the wilds and get ourselves a fix of “civilisation”. We drove into this little place and were so glad we hadn’t stayed there. It’s basically two overflowing caravan parks that almost run together, a backpackers, a pub that must be raking it in for 5 months of the year, a bakery (more of that later) and a “supermarket” (corner shop). That was it. Basically somewhere to extract dollars from people going on some combination of whale shark, dive, snorkel, ride, swim, tag along tour…


Ok, so the bakery was really good. We spent a happy 20 mins there then turned round and drove back to our slice of paradise  – untouched by billboards, backpacker buses and tour operators with a gleam in their eye. 

It was time to brave the beach, the wind was still howling, but the sun had come out and we found a little rock to sit behind. I was so perfectly content. 


A cosy night in the Zone with beer and pizza entrees and salmon mains was all we needed – well some decent internet somewhere to download Netflix would be good. Blimey! I hadn’t quite realised how poorly served rural Australia is with useable broadband. 52nd in the world for fixed broadband speed is pretty appalling. Yes, mobile 4G is fast, but unaffordable if you’re with Telstra (and you have to be if travelling) to download any serious giggage.

If anyone wants to post us a big memory stick of movies there’s a fabulous bottle of wine waiting for you! 

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Day 70: 7 August – The best spot yet

Author: Mr A

From: Warroora Station

To: Up the beach and back!

Distance: 8 km


This is the most stunning beach we have EVER seen. Today we headed north up the pure white sand armed with cameras, bins and water. This is the most pristine coast – turtles continuously pop their heads up out of the crystal clear waters. Whales wave their flippers at us the other side of the reef. The only footprints we can see are ours. We don’t see another soul for hours at a time. 


We both fall in love with the place and work out a plan to stay a couple of extra nights. We are only limited by our water supplies, the drinking water tank is still cloudy, so a fair bit of juggling will be needed to use that for cooking, washing etc. It means we can’t have hot water from our system, and basin washes rather than showers, but it will be worth it to stay here. I’ve been having upset tummies so I’m blaming the drinking water system…I’ll have to swap to beer instead. 

We met a couple on the beach who told us there’s a guy here who lives in his van for 5 months at a time here, just surviving on the bore water delivered by an old  pump, and presumably bringing in drinking water from Exmouth (over a hundred kilometres away). I think 5 days will do us fine! 

We were back with a few kilometres under our belts by 2pm, and settled down to a quiet afternoon of reading. Ah the bliss. Where else in the world could you get a place like this to stay, with no litter on the beach (so that rules out most of the world), wildlife everywhere, perfect blue skies every day, and safe to leave your things just lying around. We lock up valuables but tables and chairs are just outside and could be easily taken if someone was so inclined. They aren’t. Everyone we meet is so friendly and just enjoying the same things, the serenity, the natural world in all her glory. There’s a real mix of people, grey nomads of course, but also families with young kids being educated in the “school of life”. 

Catherine pops into the van and emerges with “wrap-pizzas” – a trick learnt from her sister who finds they go down well with hungry kids. Well they also went down well with this hungry 60 year old kid let me tell you. 

Every day feels like a blessing, and the best thing –  its $20s a night! With the rent coming in on our house we hope to stretch the budget even further…longer….

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Day 68: 5 August – The Ningaloo Coast – paradise regained

Author: Mr A

From: Exmouth Caravan Park

To: Mesa Camp, Cape Range National Park

Distance: 60 km

The day started as all good days should with a sausage roll for her (now, now) and a pie for me. The bakery in Exmouth is superb – I even tucked away a custard tart in the bottom of the bag for later. We were off round the tip of the Cape into the National Park. The water tanks were full, the fridge was straining at the seams, and we only were able to book one night here! Damm and blast. We rocked up to find the best campsite we have been to in all of this trip. A little slice of paradise. Right next to the beach, sea views, a bit of shade, a corner spot. Just perfect! 


We set up quickly, then dashed off down the coast to the end of the road where we wanted to paddle this little creek that we had read about. Out come the “bumper boats”, inflated in a jiffy, and off we dash up the creek (with a paddle). Yardie Gorge is a tranquil little creek with sheer rock walls, ospreys soared overhead and fish were darting around under the rafts. We had heard a rumour that the naval base nearby used to hide its submarines there in the war. No periscopes appeared on our trip, and we were soon back at the boat ramp, deflated and on our way. We were on a bit of a mission given our limited time here.


We stopped at a couple of the bays on the way back, and threw ourselves in at Turquoiuse Bay for a snorkel (guess what colour the water looks), sat on the beach and watched the surf pounding on the edge of the lagoon a few hundred metres out.



Back at camp we climbed the dune behind the van and Mrs A, also know as the dolphin whistler, soon had a small pod of them fishing literally metres off the beach. We watched the sun set, again, I predicted what would happen, the whole going down thing and the red bit, and it did. 

It was time to retire to the van, a spag bol was the perfect end to this fab day. 

PS I better mention that I didn’t do up the drain plug on one of the tanks properly, so we have a 100 litres less of water than planned. Ah well…still learning the art of vanning. 

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Day 66: 3 August – Whale Sharks!!!

Author: Mr A

From: Exmouth Cape Caravan Park

To: Somewhere out beyond Ningaloo in the big blue

Distance: Quite a few bumpy kms in a boat

Well the day dawned when we would find out if whale sharks would grace us with their majestic presence in the UNESCO World Heritage area of the Ningaloo Coast. We were shipped out by mini bus to transfer to a little ferry and then onto our home for the day – a quite lovely cataraman. 

It was pretty nippy first thing (17 degrees) with a wind chill out on the water from a fresh breeze, and climbing into wet suits was done with some tripidation. We had a very good briefing on the code of conduct for whale shark snorkelling  – basically don’t get in its way – they will tend to dive and we’ll lose them. 

For those of you unfamiliar with this stunningly graceful fish (yes  – not mammal) they are called a ‘whale’ shark becuase of their size, growing up to 18 metres, and commonly seen around 6 to 8 metres here. A local doctor in Exmouth first noticed them hanging around in the 1980s and the book he wrote about his observations of them was the stimulus for the tourist industry that has now grown up around them. The coral here spawns stuff that the krill they feed on likes…and by the way it’s not a bad place to hang out if you’re dining for free. Turquoise waters, the longest fringing reef in the world, and lots of grey nomads to show off to. 

So in the water we went for a ‘Lets make sure you can snorkel’ session, inside the reef. I managed to remember which way up the mask goes, Catherine on the other hand was provided with a leaky snorkel (more like a straw than something you can breathe through!). So after a bit of equipment juggling we were sorted and ready to hit the open ocean. 

We all sat around shivering (except the really overweight people – very politically incorrect I know) and watching humpback whales splashing their tails in the water, until the spotter plane flying circles overhead (I know – pretty cool ay) finally located a grey shadow under the water. Full throttle, we were soon off racing over the waves, stomachs lagging a little behind, then pulled up ready for the “Go, go, go” signal! Mrs A, looking fetching as ever, I must say, in rubber, was slightly ahead of me I think (well I did land on something soft before hitting the water), and we were in hot pursuit.

Now what the whale shark was thinking at this point I can only imagine…’Bloody hell, here they come’ is my best guess. But we had strict instructions to keep at least 3 metres off its flippery bits (anatomical terms here you know). This particular whale shark had obviously had its fill of being gawked at and promptly set off the ‘Dive, dive, dive’ bell after about 10 seconds (potentially encouraged by the annoying bloke holding the Go-Pro in its face – not me!).


Ah well, back we went to the boat. Now came the tricky bit…..getting back on the bit at the back which was rising and falling like the Venezuelan bolívar. Catherine of course sprang up like the sprightly young thing that she is….let’s just say that my exit was….different. 

More hanging around and shivering…then…we’re off again..another…hopefully more obliging beast has been spotted. In we go, and…yes…this whale shark clearly was seeking fame and glory on Facebook. He (determined by a crew member who swam underneath it with a camera) just ambled along just under the surface of the water, cruising at the perfect speed for us to kick like crazy and keep up.


What a stunning sight. They are so beautifully marked with spots, each one sporting a uniquely identifiable cluster of markings. I think he winked at Catherine. All too quickly it was time to get back on the boat. Catherine again springs up likes she’s got a submersible pogo stick. I…well I…I get onto the deck, put it like that. You know you these terrible clips of whales getting beached. Well..something like that. 

More shivering…I had mixed feelings about how good I wanted the spotter’s eyesight to be…but we got the signal “Tallyho!”. In the water I sprinted ahead, feet thrashing (I’m surprised there wasn’t a tsunami alert issued), and get right alongside this chappie. The swim seemed to go on for ages..I spotted Catherine kicking like a mad thing (a very elegant mad thing of course), and then we were together with this magnificent creature. 


A great experience, and delivered very sensitively (I think) to not encroach on the whale shark’s personal space. Another dream convereted to a memory. Just wish our friends Jenny and David could have got lucky when they did it. There are no guarantees when it comes to wild creatures. 

So we’re off for fish and chips to celebrate (is the fish bit wrong?)… It wont be a late one tonight! 

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Day 64: 1 August – Exmouth welcomes us…in that special way that tourist traps do

Author: Mr A

From: Giralia Station

To: Exmouth

Distance: 110 km


If you are not into reading a whinge you might want to skip this post. I shan’t be offended! No pretty pictures today. 

The day started OK, with a quick motor up Exmouth Cape, home of the world famous Ningaloo Reef. We arrived in the flat, drab, town to be greeted by howling winds and dust storms,  not quite what the picture postcard shots had conjured up. 

We checked in, power was out, when it finally came back on at lunch we tried our washing machine again, to find that has remained broken…we had hoped a little respite while we were off power would have restored its inclination to provide service…alas not.

All thoughts of wading into the beautiful lagoon and exploring the coral that sits just off the beach were dashed as the gale force winds continued to scream around us. So it was the next job on the list. We headed over the road to collect some parts sent by Zone to a local caravan repairer. 

Over 4 weeks ago we had sent them an email confirming our arrival date in Exmouth, and another one following this up. Then made a phone call in which we were told “we will fit you in” by a very arrogant woman who gave the impression she was doing us a big favour to let us spend money with her. A week ago we received a mail from her letting us know the parts had arrived from Zone and “When were we arriving?”. Dur. She then said they had a big job on and they couldn’t do the work – but could do it the week after, maybe. I told her that didn’t work for us. She told me I was “so rude” – I ended the call rather confused about what exactly was rude about what had transpired. So we picked up the parts that were left on a pile on the floor by her husband and told to leave the premises

So what lessons did we learn from this experience? A lack of competition that you often find in these isolated tourist spots breeds a very “special” kind of behaviour to customers. There are no caravan repairers for over 3,000 kms if you you are heading north in your van (as we had found out the hard way). South its 834 km until you next find someone who might take your money if they have time and you really grovel. Having mainly lived and worked in places where there is stiff competition for every business, I find it hard to plead with someone who has screwed up our booking, offers no explanation (let alone an apology) and pay them money. The thing is this business is clearly doing really well (nice new premises and workshop), because people have no choice. Incidentally the Chariman of the Council of Exmouth was removed from office for “unethical behaviour” (offering untendered work to tourist based companies).  Again the customer will be unlikely to benefit from this practice. As we found out when Catherine booked two dives on the Navy Pier for her, and a trip for each of us out on a boat when we might see and swim with whale sharks…a thousand dollars thank you very much. 

We tried to put a positive spin on the day and go out for dinner. We had some very ordinary food, two small entrees (a basket of chips and 3 small chunks of lamb in a pumpkin hummus), an entree sized main (3 little fish tacos), two small beers and a glass of wine, left hungry and were removed of nearly $100! 

We compare this to our experience in France, where we visited the top tourist sites, and almost always got fantastic service and value. Why the difference? It wasn’t that these restaurants were particularly busy either. I’m left wondering. I just don’t trust its the transport costs that changes the pricing. When bottles of water can be shipped across the world for next to nothing why does it suddenly triple the price to ship it another few hundred kilometres? Value based pricing. Apparently it’s worth what you can get the customer to pay based on their access to other options? We are making good use of the ‘post restante” service at Australia Post offices. Buy something at the city price and its shipped free. 

Ah just remembered, something fun did happen, an emu came to say hello at our campsite! 

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Day 62: 30 July – Gas plants and sheep stations

Author: Mr A

From: 40 Mile Beach

To: Giralia Station (Exmouth Gulf)

Distance driven: 385 km

Distance hiked: 5.6 km

We had to tear ourselves away from our cliff top view this morning, and the first job of the day was a visit to the gas plant up the road. ‘Why?’…you might well legitimately ask. Well it was the only place listed on Wiki Camps where you could get water for hundreds of kilometres. So we joined a queue of other water-poor vanners and waited our turn, in the interim picking the brains of the other grey nomads about where to camp heading south. Catherine didn’t reach for her camera. We donated a few dollars to the Royal Flying Doctors as a payment.

Ms Google’s instructions for the day; ‘Turn right in 335 kilometres’. A short stop for lunch then another spell behind the wheel and we were soon turning off the bitumen onto the dirt road leading to our home for the next two nights…a 700,000 acre property that used to be a Marino sheep station. Its current business status is uncertain. 


Off we marched for our late afternoon exploration down a walk called the ‘kangaroo trail’. A couple of big reds obliged us with their presence, their fur glowing in the setting sun. We sat on a seat and I pondered with Mrs A about all the decisions, risks and luck, that had brought us to this place, this moment in time. 


Back to the mobile apartment and we joined a group of our fellow travellers round a campfire. It was a lovely atmosphere, listening to all these people (some even older than me, yes) laugh and tell their stories about life on the road. A Polish couple in their late 60’s were a hoot, sipping away at their home made bourbon, bringing a shot glass over for me to try. Suddenly up the guy jumps and starts telling a very risqué joke to the whole crowd. Brilliant…a moment to file away and smile about. 


We crept away when food pangs overtook us and Mrs A is rustling up a chicken saté. I know many of you are saying to yourselves  ‘Doesn’t he ever cook?’ And no, I don’t do dinner or lunch. I’m let lose on a BBQ brekky but that’s it. My role is sole driver and  executer of tall and dirty jobs (e.g. porta potty emptying – enough said). 

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