lauranceblog.com

Bet you can’t guess what the commodore of the Port Walcott yacht club (near Wickham) does every Sunday during winter?
Fires the starting cannon for local pennant racing?
Hosts local member Brendan Grylls hopeful of getting royalty for regions funding?
Cooks fish and chips in a voluntary capacity for admiring diners numbering in the 100’s.?

The Pilbara’s equivalent of an Admiral leads a team of dedicated fish and chippery experts serving the best ever seafood feast in fresh unprinted newspaper.
Peta and Chelsea organised the outing which included the Roebourne jail, Wickham, the tavern at Point Samson, Honeymoon Cove and historical Cossack.
A wonderful day spent together, ytheir terrific new Karratha home, Chelsea’s school nearby, while Aub was fulfilling the last of his 4 day 12 hour shifts at Yarra on the Burrup Peninsula.

The little mining town of Tom Price is built upon the foundation of metalliferous earth, or iron ore if you prefer. 5 years ago we travelled the length of the Murray River from Lake Alexandrina South Australia variously through Victoria and New South Wales all the way up to the Snowy Mountains.
Similarly, earlier this week we opted to follow the course of Hancock’s first Hamersley iron ore project at Tom Price commenced in 1966 and now a part of the Rio Tinto giant.
For an hour and a half we were bussed through the Tom Price iron ore mining operations, gawking with the rest of our fellow passengers at the enormity of absolutely everything about the place.
Sufficient to say that big numbers have not been retained, but 360 million tonnes of the stuff will be railed to the Dampier coast for export to China in this year alone.
Those trains cart over 27,000 tonnes per load about 5 plus times a day across the Pilbara landscape, meaning we keep a very sharp eye out at railway level crossings all the time.
Before we leave Karratha we intend doing a mining tour to watch at first hand the transfer of ore from rail to ships at the Dampier port.

To begin, I must confess to saying “seen one gorge—seen them all!”
Until today when we took a trip to Millstream from Karratha. Far distant blue mountain ranges, fresh grassed green savannahs for as far as one can see, beautifully sculptured rock formations that you can practically touch and a wink around every corner from Sturt Peas growing on the road verge.
100km of sealed road from Karratha and a further say 120km round trip of newly graded gravel road and you can enjoy all the spectacle the park has to offer.
A swim in Python Pool (for younger types) a picnic lunch by what I think was the Fortescue River, which was a huge water oasis of gum, date palms and natty architectural palms forming a home-like resort for white cockatoos. Not those bloody Corellas that invade Perth parks in the summer months.
The old (1800’s) and new (1930’s) homesteads that was Millstream at one time provided interest, but nothing compared to the nearby stream itself; boundless constantly flowing pristine fresh water which pooled at intervals to feed ponds of lush water lily pads and handsome ancient stately paperbark trees.
Karratha has to be the tourist hotspot of Western Australia. There is more to do here than any other WA location we have visited so far.
More in blog postings to come, but for now the pictures tell the story.

Dales Gorge
In addition to the oft-expressed “you will love it” in relation to caravanning in general we have frequently heard about “free camping”, normally expressed with the same “you’ll love it” edict.
The Dales Gorge within the Karijini National park has a free camping area which is a genuine delight and we spent a pleasant afternoon and evening overnighting in the bush.
A sealed road all the way from Tom Price to where volunteers man the camping fees collection of a ridiculous $13.20 per night for 2 seniors. After that it is half a kilometre of dirt road to the Dingo Loop which was our bucolic abode for around 20 hours. ( rain was due the next day and as the whole area is a genuine red ochre site, we didn’t relish the thought of more top- end red stuff invading our lives).
We walked the level 2 pathway (for woozers like me) to the circular pool and for my money you can forget the gorges and resultant pools; it is the flowers and wildlife that bring charm to this outstandingly beautiful wilderness.

We were visited at our campsite by about 7 different species of birdlife including a black headed kingfisher and a couple of red-capped finches adorned in brilliant pillar box red colouring.

The next day (Wednesday) we travelled 420 km plus across to Munjina road house where it joins the Great Northern Highway towards Port Hedland and turning left to access Karratha,
The countryside was quite unbelievable, especially through the cuttings at Munjina East Creek area. But the scenery couldn’t quite overcome the worry of running out of fuel over lengthy sections bereft of a Coles Express, Woolworths Caltex, or a Telstra cell area from which to get the RAC to bring you out some petrol.
But we limped into Roebourne on the smell of petrol soaked rag, filled up and re-commenced breathing normally once again.

I can’t say I am smitten, or that the caravanning bug has actually captured me.
Yet!
But I do admire and enjoy the neighbourliness and sociability of close-by residents. And it is they that constantly assure me “you will love it!”
God, it’s like an ever moving feast of Dale Carnegie enthusiasts; or the ra-ra-ra of an Anthony Robbins seminar. You buys your caravan and the verbal back slapping attends your every waking moment.
No one is ever critical of the novice nomad’s backing up a 6m caravan with a mind of its own; no one laughs when your awning springs unexpectedly out of your grip and loudly clatters back up to its roofline housing. There’s nary a comment when your guiding wife tells you to wind down the bloody window.
No.
“You will love it” is the only retort.

No five o’clock shadow here. But at 5 each afternoon nearby residents drop by to share a favourite drop and freely pass on the advice as to roads and sites both favoured or feared.
Would you believe it? This wellspring of travellers even have their own Wikicamps, an app where you can pass on the good news about all the stop-off places you are ever likely to see.
This afternoon it’s not Pete and Dizey dropping by, it’s Ken and Dizzie from Qld, Now let me see! There’s  been Ken and Helen, Greg and Denise, Marion and Gordon, Wilfred and Vivian and Wilf’s brother Rex the bachelor and oh! a parade of others we will doubtless cross paths with again down the track.

You are never alone in this business. We take over any small town. Nodding acknowledgement at Coles, the low down on grog specials at Liquorland, or sharing a yarn sitting together on a tour bus,
Also, every day it’s fascinating to hear old folk on their mobile phones–at 120 decibels– talking to the grand children all over Australia. “No! No! Zelda, Nanny and Poppy are in Western Australia………where’s that you say? Ask you mother or your father”

And a note about the bird life. Nomads must be recognised by native birdlife as all being from Assisi. The usual coterie of feathered friends visit your pitch every day, or perhaps it’s that the pink and greys are of a similar age to the nomads they visit.
And all this under the canopy of a 26 degree sunny day. But I must away for Ken and Dizzie will be here soon and I need to get the cheese and crackers out.

“We do love it!”

Tom Price with big sunny blue skies like a domed cover over rugged red mountain ranges is the jumping off point for Karinjini national park. We opted to take a bus tour rather than putting a 2WD sedan over the unsealed corrugated roads. In all, a fabulous but long day with lots of clambering over rocks and when we got home these ragged rascals felt almost legless. Tomorrow we are doing a mine tour so that we can follow the processes from the ground up to shipping from Port Hedland.

it is said that Tom Price is actually a drinking town with a mining problem!

On the very day that Marion Robert Morrison* appeared in The Australian newspaper, we travelled from Coral Bay to Paraburdoo thru country Mr Morrison would have been proud to ride; neckerchiefed, rifle in hand, squinting in concentration.
U.S. film lot or the Australian outback?
Actually it’s the road to Paraburdoo from the Highway1 at Nanutarra Road House about 270 km travelling east with afternoon sun behind us all the way.
Australia: Australia: Australia all the way.
The Canadian Rockies, Norwegian Fiords etc all have their place, but it is the Aussie mountain ranges that beat them all. Travelling hour upon hour these ranges are mesmerising in their beauty. Against an other-wise blank flat landscape canvas the ranges’ entreat you with brilliant red sandy earth, starkly contrasting to a brilliant blue sky, distant views are clothed in the familiar Aussie blue hues, creek beds are adorned with stark white trunked gums, native Australian budgerigars fly in a harmonious unison of yellow and green, fat cattle graze on belly high green grasses, tufted green grass/shrubs clothe hillsides and eagles, kites and (an obviously smelly) solitary emu, all enjoy this spectacular landscape. But it is the greening of the countryside that takes your breath away!

Wow! What a day!

We got away from the sunburnt country of Coral Bay to the red-earth reaches of iron ore country- a distance of 529km- which included missing a snake slithering across the road and stopping for a Tasmanian lady travelling alone in a Ford Transit motor home broken down by the side of the road**

*Marion Morrison changed his name to John Wayne
**Isabel arranged for the RAC to go out and help the broken down lady

Not being a beach person—I get sun-burned travelling on an outer deck of a Scottish ferry in winter—-it was fascinating seeing so many beach birds without getting sand between my toes.
For it is in the caravan park we were visited by a couple of friendly locals (of the feathered variety).
Reluctantly we left Carnarvon and all the good ole folk just before 10 and pulled into Coral Bay around 12.30 in time for lunch.
On the journey up we saw 3 kangaroos, but they high-tailed it in the other direction upon seeing us approach; but not so what appeared to be a murder of crows, or worse, a wombat straight ahead in the middle of the road.
Slowed down to a halt and saw a magnificently proud wedgetail eagle lunching on a bit of road kill.
What a tremendous sight!
Thankfully the eagle decided he might become prey to a few tonnes of shiny metal and wedge-tailed it to a nearby dead tree stump. Sadly we were unable to get the camera out in time, so the usual pinched web pic adequately illustrates my yarn.
The other feathered friends at our caravan pitch I’ve identified as crested pigeons and a few noisy miner birds (Aussie native variety). Identification and pictures all courtesy of Mr Google Images.
Tomorrow we head toward Tom Price for a few days and the Karinjini National Park

P.S. I did actually stroll along the beach and check out the other bird life

Today we explored the new Carnarvon.
Landcorp is here and similar to so many other WA rural locations, is making a power of a difference. Like Albany, Augusta and Mandurah (that I know of) the government agency has sculptured this town’s best known attributes into a brand new housing and aquatic miracle.
For, gone is the vibrancy of main street Carnarvon with its 30 or so cabs servicing the station workers who periodically came to town to spend their pay. The then local parliamentary member’s shopfront is now a hair cutting business; Wesfarmers Coop is is now a Carpet Call retailer and pedestrians at the Woolies/BWS carpark confront road-train sized trolleys full of cheap beer.
But I jest!
To scale, Carnarvon rivals the Mandurah canals housing development. Green lawned public fascine areas attract young fisher fathers and sons while the local hoy-poloy support brand new development with attractive homes on the water.
A recent cyclone appears to be overcome with lots of plantation repairs already in place and new crops looking advanced, with devastated bananas crops pushing up new suckers. A healthy and resilient future ahead.