SATURDAY 1 AUGUST TO WEDNESDAY 5 AUGUST FORREST BEACH
SATURDAY was a quiet and relaxing day.
I walked to the shops for the paper. Read that. We walked on the beach. I made salads for tea.
With the very windy weather easing off, the sea was not quite as rough as when we arrived here.
I was now noticing regular “tinny” boat traffic, from Palm Island in the distance, to the beach here. The boats came into the shallows, the indigenous occupants – one or more – would stick a bit of an anchor into the sand, or tie a rope around a chunk of breeze block lying on the sand. Clearly, those had been put there for the purpose. They would then disappear up to the hotel. After some time, they would re-appear, carrying boxes of beer and sometimes cartons of who knew what. They would then motor off back into the distance, across to the island.
I had been under the impression that Palm Island was “dry”, but maybe I was mistaken. The island communities had a lot of issues, the place had a dubious reputation and was sometimes compared to Doomadgee and similar.
The sea was still quite rough, at times, but that mostly did not deter the regular traffic. We counted four separate boats arrive today. Good extra business for the hotel!
Palm Islands from Forrest Beach
SUNDAY: was another windy day.
After an early lunch, we drove across to Macknade Mill, to bowls.
This was such a unique setting for a bowls club!
Bowls Club at Macknade Mill
I kept being distracted by the cane trains clunking by, not very far away at all, and by watching the shunting activity of these at the mill. The mill itself was not too noisy – just kind of faded into the background. We have bowled in some out of the way and unusual places, but this one really took the award!
I played alright. John was not really happy with his game. Nothing new there!
Tea was sausages, fries, egg.
MONDAY: another windy day.
We relaxed at camp; it is that sort of laid back place where sitting about doing not much is perfectly respectable, even expected.
Went for a walk along the beach. Our beach walks were usually about 5kms, sometimes more, sometimes a bit less. But a decent exercise. Our preference was becoming to walk to the south, because that way we did not go past the more frequented (slightly) of the village foreshore. But either way, there were lovely long sandy expanses.
Yesterday, the pseudo-schooling lady across the way told us that she had been hired by management to clean the ablutions block, once a day. Since we had been here, the cleaning of same had been erratic. It didn’t happen at all on weekends, and not every week day either. So, to have someone supposed to do it every day, should be an improvement. Nothing short of a major refurbishment would change the tired, worn out and broken things – chipped cement, broken tiles and the like – but it would be an improvement to know the place was cleaner, at least.
She started today, and did a good job. It was not possible to get off the ingrained staining and wear, from time and the tropics, but we could be more confident now, that the surfaces were reasonably hygienic.
Garlic prawns for tea.
TUESDAY: was still windy. Guess it was that time of year on the north east coast.
Another day of relaxing: reading, sewing, computer use, beach walk. Wished it could go on longer, and become our way of life again….
Outlook from the front of our site – the beach was not far away….
Had an email from the former boss in my main career. He had been working on Groote Island, in the NT, doing community safety audits. Well, that was something new for him. He had really fetched up in some unusual places since his “retirement”, most of them to do with indigenous education and welfare, in some way, or environmental issues.
Tea was pasta with chili, smoked cheese, garlic crumbs. It was different using smoked cheese, which the original recipe called for, instead of the tasty cheese I usually resorted to. Yummy.
WEDNESDAY: a fine day with a bit less wind.
John went to bowls in the afternoon.
I walked on the beach, did my usual leisure activities. Started playing the Share Market Game, run by the ASX, twice a year. So that provided some mental exercise for the day.
John thought we should do something further afield today.
Wallaman Falls was mentioned as a possibility, but then we decided to go north instead, to take a look at Kurrimine. This had been mentioned to us as a great place to stay, by John’s nephew M. If we liked it, we could possibly go there for a while, as an alternative to spending all our remaining time at Forrest Beach.
Kurrimine was only a bit over a hundred kms away – alright for a day trip. We covered the same roads again – that seemed to have become the theme of this trip – as far as Cardwell. There, we stopped at the good fruit shop and made several purchases.
The whole day’s driving was really attractive and interesting, always against the backdrop of the Great Dividing Range. The sugar cane country of Ingham was left behind as we reached the Cardwell Range, where it seems a segment of the Great Dividing Range comes down to sea level. From then, through to Cardwell it was mostly timbered or scrubby country. That section of the highway went fairly close to the coast of the Hinchinbrook Channel, and this was reflected in some marshy areas, and a number of bridges over creeks and swampy channels.
Once past Cardwell, sugar cane started to reappear, as the hilly country receded westwards and the coastal plains widened again.
The sugar mill at Tully was clearly in use, with smoking chimneys, as we approached the town. . Tully is most notorious for claiming to be the wettest town in Australia, with an average annual rainfall in excess of 4 metres! We passed the large “statue” of a gum boot that symbolizes this. Another “large thing”, with the regional symbol of a green tree frog climbing it side. This time of year was the driest in this area, with monthly rainfalls of only 400-500mm. Probably not a great place to stop with a caravan….
Another little range section interrupted the sugar cane spread, which resumed again as we approached the township of El Arish. A few kms further north we turned east off the highway, onto the evocatively named Murdering Point Road, which would take us to Kurrimine. Seems a ship was wrecked on a nearby reef in the 1870’s and some survivors were killed by the natives, hence the name.
Kurrimine had lots of houses, two private caravan parks and a council run one. They all looked pretty packed, as we cruised slowly past, exploring the place. There was a lovely long beach, and very scenic views to the south, down towards Dunk Island.
Kurrimine Beach
We could see waves breaking on the King Reef, offshore – the site of a number of historic ship wrecks.
Could just see the distant white line of waves breaking on Kings Reef
Parked up and went for a walk along the beach. The Kings Reef Caravan Park had some frontage to the beach, so we went and had a look at that as we passed. It also had a hotel right next door.
Plenty of scope for walking on that beach
Drove to have a look at the Big 4 Kurrimine Beach park. After looking at them both, John had a slight preference for the Kings Reef one, but I tended to prefer the Big 4 one. There was no adjacent hotel, which I saw a potentially noisy at the other place. It also advertised a large swimming pool and was not too far from the beach.
We decided Kurrimine would be a good place to come for a week or more – but next year. It was not compelling enough to make us move now, only to have to back track again after a week or so. We were done fed up with back tracking on this trip!
On the way south again, at El Arish we turned east for the coast again, this time to Mission Beach, where we’d stayed in 1998. We noted all the warning signs and speed restrictions relating to cassowaries, which had been doing it hard in these parts after cyclones in recent years badly damaged their habitat.
Mission Beach had become much, much more developed since we were there a decade ago. It was becoming so large. Back then, it was a lovely sleepy village. But the caravan park we stayed at then, still looked pretty good.
Mission Beach is really like a series of villages, strung out along the shore line. We drove through Wongaling to South Mission Beach. Decided the caravan park there would be our first choice for a stay next year. All the parks we saw looked pretty full, but that was only to be expected for this time of year.
And so back to Tully and southwards. Stopped at the lookout in the Cardwell Range, briefly, with its vista across to the Palm Island Group, relatively close to the coast there.
Hinchinbrook Island and the Channel
North of the Herbert River, took Fulton Road which followed the river towards Halifax. It was a really pretty way to go. We got held up at a crossing by a really slow moving cane train. Eventually, after sitting there for a while and watching the locals, we followed their example, took to the fields and went around the back of it, via the road edges.
Arrived back at Forrest Beach at 5.45pm, after a great day’s outing. Stopped at the fish and chip shop and ordered same, to be picked up at 6.30pm. They proved to be ok, maybe a bit fatty.
I’d really enjoyed the drive today. But it brought back a longing to be able to be open-ended again, as we’d been on our three year trip, 98-2000. Then we could just meander north, and wherever, as the fancy took us, and not have to meet a going-home deadline.
The decision had been made that we would stay on here until it was time to head home.
The past few days and nights had been really windy and that became quite wearing at times – kind of frayed the nerves.
I had a lovely, relaxed sort of day. Read, sewed, spent time on the computer, walked to the shops to get milk and some broccoli.
John returned, pleased with the way he’d played at bowls. The crocs had been christened!
The old and the new
Tea was steak and vegies.
MONDAY we noted that it was five weeks until we had to be home. Our housesitters were flying out that day, to do an overseas house sit. The new pennant bowls season would be close, too, for John.
It was another cloudy day.
I was able to extend our stay here, effectively for as long as we wanted, just deciding week by week.
John had a fish from the beach this morning, but did not catch anything. He then drove across to Halifax to get some fishing gear from the shop there, but it was shut. He came back with three library books for me, having joined the Ingham Library at their Halifax branch. All free, too. I was really pleased – would be great to have access to books, since we would be here a while.
I sewed. We walked on the beach in the late afternoon.
Tea was eggs and bacon, fries and cob corn.
TUESDAY was partly cloudy.
In the morning, before John got up. I walked on the beach. In the afternoon, we both walked as far as the little Cassady Beach settlement, to the south. It was an ocean-front row of maybe six or eight houses. A couple seemed to be currently occupied. They had superb views, but must feel awfully vulnerable in a big storm. This area does get cyclones too, with the attendant storm surges, and they are not very high at all, above high tide level here. But perhaps, there is some protection from the very worst of the elements, from the close offshore Palm Islands?
The long beach south
Just across from us was a WA registered rig. The family – a young-ish couple and two children, maybe eight and six or thereabouts – have been on the road for two years. He was a cook, who picked up casual work wherever they stopped for any time. She was, supposedly, teaching the children. She said she did not believe in schools, or any sort of formal educational plan. Children would learn what they needed, from their general experiences, was her view. A cop-out, as far as I was concerned. But she did say that she tried to make sure they got in a bit of work, most days, on literacy and numeracy. As far as I had seen, to date, the kids mostly free ranged around the park and played on the beach, while she sat with her feet up, in the shade of the awning and read. I wondered how they were able to escape some sort of check on the children’s education?
I was not opposed to home schooling, as such, but believed there was a huge difference between educating children properly, at home, and her kind of laissez faire, do nothing attitude. Proper home schooling required clear planning, resources, and a lot of consistent effort by all concerned.
WEDNESDAY was less cloudy.
We drove into Ingham and did the full 3km circuit walk at the Tyto Wetlands. At last!
There was a surprising amount of bird activity, considering it was the middle of the day. A special bird here was the Eastern Grass Owl – for which the place was named. Barn owls – the ones with masked faces – are Tyto genus. Logic dictated that we wouldn’t see one in the middle of the day – and we didn’t, but the hope was there, as we walked. It took us two hours to do the walk, because of the amount of time spent looking at wildlife and the very pretty wetlands scenery. The area was really well set out.
In the Visitor Centre there, looked at an art exhibition, featuring Tyto birds. I was not particularly impressed with the quality of the works.
We had a Subway lunch. Went to the main library in Ingham, for more books. I had actually previously read two of the ones John had borrowed for me the other day. A quick supermarket visit, for groceries, and that was the day.
Forrest Beach Caravan Park
THURSDAY saw what I was starting to regard as the usual weather here at this time of year: some cloud, some sun.
I did a morning beach walk.
We left about 3pm to go into Ingham. Firstly, to the bank to sort out a credit card limit glitch.
Then we drove out towards the ranges and onto the Abergowrie road, for a way, through cane country along the really fertile Herbert River valley. It was an attractive short drive.
It was notable that the houses on the cane farms were two storeyed, with the ground level floor usually being mostly open breeze block. We worked out that there could be quite big floods in these parts, and that put the main part of the house above the water level – hopefully.
The Herbert River valley
We returned to the Ingham bowls club, where John went in for a practice, while I sat in Truck and read.
We’d planned to buy and enjoy a pizza tea, but it was too late by the time John finished practicing, so we grabbed a quick Subway instead.
The sunset sky was really pretty as we lined up to start bowls.
Through the duration of the game, there was lots of passing cane train activity. The empty, clanking wagons were being taken out to be ready for tomorrow’s harvest work.
The night-time bowls were of a reasonable standard. I found it really hard to judge the pace, under the lights, and John did not play well, either. So the triples team we were in lost soundly.
We had the obligatory social drink and were back at the van by 9pm. Hopefully, that would end my bowls participation for a while!
John set the alarm for early, just in case the bowls club phoned, needing him, but he didn’t get up when it went off. However it woke me beyond the point of getting back to sleep, so I got up. There was no call. John did not sleep in too late.
Blue sky and sunshine, though there was still quite a wind, and the sea was choppy.
We walked to the village shops – maybe a km away? The newsagency/post office was comprehensively stocked. I bought the newspaper and couldn’t resist a three paperbacks for $5 each, deal.
At the Spar supermarket, John bought bait.
Forrest Beach localities
After lunch, we walked along the beach for a while, southwards. The tide was low-ish, which meant there was a very wide expanse of exposed sand. Apparently there was a considerable height difference between high and low tide, here.
Forrest Beach – view south
There was great firm walking on the wet sand. The outlooks along the beach, north and south, coming and going, were very pretty, and there were the offshore Palm Islands group to look at, too. We could walk in the shallows left in dips in the sand, if we felt like a paddle.
I decided this place was well worth staying at, just for the beach walking – I was hooked!
John got his fishing gear unpacked and ready to use. He phoned Macknade Bowls Club and booked himself in for a game tomorrow.
We decided we’d stay on here for at least another week, if it was possible.
Tea was sticky pork ribs and rice – rather a favourite of ours.
The night was not as windy, it was pleasantly mild and we went to sleep to the background sea noise.
We got up really early, not intentionally, just happened. So we were out of the park by 9am. We’d had to pack up a very damp awning, due to condensation under it, through the night.
Could just about do the run north with eyes shut…..Seemed to be fewer stupid drivers on the road, today.
Tootled through the centre of Ingham, then on the northern outskirts, took the road to Forrest Beach.
A few kms along this was the Victoria Mill Estate – the large sugar mill and associated housing and offices. By then, we’d gone over the fourth cane railway crossing since turning off the highway. The Mill was churning out lots of thick black smoke. There were long lines of full cane trains, waiting at the Mill.
Sugar cane – the staple of the Ingham area
We were at Forrest Beach just before 11am. The actual small village was called Allingham, which disconcerted us the first time we went there, because we’d thought we were going to Forrest Beach. Effectively, they were one and the same.
Allingham Post Office……but…..
Parked in front of the hotel motel that fronts the caravan park and where we had to go to check in. Had to hunt around the premises a bit to find a person, who found out for us that we were allocated Site 27. But we could not formally check in and pay before 11am – no business until then because that was done in the bottle shop!
So we drove down into the caravan park section and found our site. It was right at the end of a row – great! It backed onto forest growth and a fairly bushy camping area on one side. It had a cement slab too. From our annexe area, we looked straight down an internal road, then a track, to the sea, which was not far away.
We liked the site and when I walked up to the bottle shop to pay, extended our stay to a week. It cost $150 for the week, which seemed pretty good.
After setting up and having lunch, drove back into Ingham, so John could try out his new bowls. He had to wait until the green was watered, and dried, so we filled in the time by cruising the main streets of Ingham and finding our bank, so we could do some needed business there.
John’s first practice session with the new bowls was very positive. He reminded everyone that he saw there, that he was available for the weekend event, if needed. Then, in front of a number of the local people, he leaned on me to play on Thursday next. I didn’t really want to, but couldn’t refuse without seeming rude to the locals. That man owed me a million bushwalks!
While we were practicing bowls, a cane train clunked its way by – they really do clunk and clatter and creak along. The cane line went right by the bowls club. The train was incredibly long – as we were to find on the several occasions we managed to encounter one at the crossings on the Forrest Beach Road.
Passing the Mill, on the way back, we could see the Lucinda train sugar bins being loaded from an overhead hopper. The Mill and its activities were always interesting.
Some whales swam past the beach, a way out at sea, late in the afternoon.
The mosquitoes at dusk were really bad. There had to be some down sides to things….
I cooked barra in batter, while John drove to the shops and bought chips from the take away – far more than we could eat. Most generous with their serves.
The night was windy and there was quite loud wave noise. It was so good to be right by the sea again. It was very humid, though.
We’d found out the current situation with the establishment here. A development consortium bought the hotel and associated caravan park. They began by re-developing the hotel – it looks very modern. They built a big deck area where there had been a swimming pool – dammit! The permanent residents of the caravan park were moved out. There were still remnants of those former set ups, like an old sink behind our site. Then, it seemed, plans for a 150 room resort on the caravan park site were put on hold, due to the economic downturn. The caravan park got slightly tarted up, like painting the amenities block. Inside, though, it still looked quite tired.
It would be a real shame if the caravan park was lost to development – ones on such a great location as this are hard to find.
It was a cloudy day, with a strong breeze. I wondered if it would rain. Took a chance, anyway, and washed the bedding, then sent some emails.
John was back before too long. The man didn’t have the part Truck was found to need, but would have it in tomorrow.
Townsville was so well served, compared to many other places we’d been. The old saying that we got used to, during our time in the NT, came to mind – the NT: not today, not tomorrow, not Tuesday, not Thursday, next train, next truck…..very true it was too.
After lunch, drove to the Aitkenvale shops, where I’d discovered there was a bowls shop. There was also a sewing supplies shop nearby, which provided me with good browsing, whilst John was making decisions in the bowls shop. Not that I had any ulterior motive for directing him to this one…..
I bought some threads for my Hardanger sewing. John ordered himself a set of bowls. Not a cheap exercise! He wanted them colour yellow, so they had to be freighted up and should arrive on Thursday or Friday. I decided that, when he was picking them up, I would go back to the sewing shop and indulge some more, having shown great restraint today.
John’s thinking was that yellow bowls would make it easy for him to see where his efforts were, from the other end of the green. I had two thoughts – neither of which I shared with him: that they would be an easy target, and, the way he’d been bowling lately, they could stand out as an embarrassment. Sometimes, I really did need to censor myself!
We had a quick look at merchandise in the Rivers clearance centre, but were not tempted.
John went to the bank and withdrew $500 cash to pay for Truck repairs. There was a big dent in the bank account, after today.
I extended our stay here, for Thursday night. Cost $31.50.
Cooked the continental sausages bought on Saturday, for tea, with mashed potato, bacon and eggs. Later, they gave me fearsome indigestion.
TUESDAY : John was off to the Land Rover man for 9am.
It was another cloudy but windy day. I did our clothes washing, and sewed some quilt blocks.
Our other Townsville site….don’t ask me why it was so hard to back in here!
John returned with Truck fixed – I hoped! A new vacuum pump had been fitted, with double gaskets this time. It had an oil change and some other oddments fixed too. All up – $520 for repairs.
John phoned the bad mechanic back in Melbourne. After some discussion, he was told that the warranty on the pump that had been installed just three months ago, would be honoured. I would believe that when we actually saw the money, I’m afraid.
After lunch, drove to the Strand again and did a fair walk. Then it was to the Castletown shops, so I could buy a small but good chef’s knife, to replace my good one that the handle had broken off, yesterday. That cost $50.
Grandson phoned to tell us that he’d read the fifty books for the Read-a-thon. Not bad for a six year old. So we would now have to send his $10 donation, plus the surprise Sodor train wash set.
We need to go back to the bush – haemorrhaging money in Townsville!
WEDNESDAY: We had a quiet start to a day that was not as cloudy, but was more humid, strangely enough.
Walked to the local shops and spent up big on postage. Sent postcards to various family and friends, a Hinchinbrook Island brochure to each of the sets of grandchildren, telling the story of our day there, and despatched the train wash and $10 to grandson. Australia Post was $25 richer.
It used real water……not sure if his mum knew that!
John phoned his cousin M, who was still in Cairns. It might be another couple of weeks before they began to head south again. I was now quite certain that we were not going to get that far north, this trip. It was going to be an accomplishment just to get away from Townsville!
Son phoned me about a new job he’d taken. Sounded very exciting: in a new field for him, traffic management, but doing the familiar role of business development. Bit of a growth industry, that.
Friend M phoned – from Halls Creek. The trip up the Canning Stock Route had gone well, and she’d had a great time. Only had one flat tyre on the Troopy, and that was just as she was driving into Billiluna Community, not on the CSR proper. Yet again, the Dunlop Roadgripper tyres that we swear by, but others look down on, proved they can really handle the rough stuff well.
She reported that they’d had no rain over the three weeks. The fuel drums they’d ordered from the Capricorn Roadhouse were at the drop point, as arranged, and hadn’t been raided by other travellers. The couple she was tagging with had no vehicle issues, either. So she reckoned that she was now an experienced sand dune driver!
The diary I’d requested she keep for me was more a book than notes, apparently. She would mail it to home. The plans were now to go to the Bungles again – the other couple had not been there before, then on to Kununurra.
I was so happy that the adventure had gone well for her. But given the events of this year, I was so thankful we hadn’t tried it too.
THURSDAY: A quiet morning, followed by early lunch. Then we hit the shops – what’s new?
At Aitkenvale, John collected his new bowls. They were the ordered bright yellow – and the symbol on each featured a smirking crocodile. Very satisfied looking it was, too. (Every set of bowls has to have a unique symbol). This one couldn’t have been better than if he’d specifically chosen it! Yellow crocs…..
At the sewing shop, I bought a metre of my special embroidery fabric and some patchwork quilt pieces, for future projects.
To the Fish Co-op to stock up on barra and threadfin salmon.
There was a nasty accident at the corner where the V8 track had been. A truck and a 4WD ute had collided. Flashing emergency lights and vehicles galore.
Grocery shop at Castletown and at the butcher.
Getting all the meats and fish into the little freezebox was a real exercise in fitting things in gaps. The real challenge would come when just one frozen portion had to be extracted again, from the mass. The fridge ran for ages after all the additions, making me think all sorts of worrying thoughts.
I phoned Forrest Beach and booked us into the caravan park there, for three nights. John wanted to play in a big bowls tournament that was on in Ingham over the time, and had listed himself as an emergency, in case someone dropped out. If he was not called up, he could go fishing.
Friday I had a quiet morning, after my several laps of the park. Read, sewed.
John had booked for us to play bowls in the afternoon – without consulting me. I’d have preferred a long walk along the Strand.
We got there for a 1pm start. but found it was actually 1.30. So there was some rather boring waiting around.
We both played somewhat mediocre games. Every time I see John bowl, now, my idea that these “straight” bowls do not suit him, is reinforced. Quite often ,when the bowl leaves his hand, I can’t tell which way it will go, which way it was meant to go – and I was certain it was mostly not where he intended. All over the shop!
John wanted home “done” fish and fries for tea.
Saturday I walked up to the local shops before breakfast and got the weekend papers.
Spent the morning reading those.
After lunch, we drove to the Strand and went walking. John took his camera and spent some time taking photos – and then, subsequently, deleted most of them before I had a chance to look at them.
On the way back, called in at Castletown – to the small area of shops, not the big complex – and went to the butcher there, for the first time. They had an excellent range. I bought chicken schnitzels, a couple of lots of speciality sausages, some very nice looking bacon. John picked up a jar of chilli pickled onions and added it to my lot. When it was all tallied up, I thought the total price was quite high, then it was established that the jar of onions cost $11…..John was not best pleased. I told him to really savour eating them….
Tea was chicken parma.
Sunday: Just the usual pottering about in the morning.
John had booked us in for afternoon bowls, which he said started at 1.30. He’d got the times wrong on Friday, so I shouldn’t have been surprised that he got this wrong too. It was a 1pm start, so we cut it very fine! Friend A phoned while we were driving there, to find out where we were. I didn’t know why they couldn’t be consistent with their start times, though.
Today’s game was a regular event on the Jubilee bowls calendar. Mexicans Vs Cane Toads. To an Australian, that is probably pretty self explanatory, but for those who are mystified, Mexicans is how Queenslanders often refer to Victorians, who come from the south, and Cane Toads are only found in the tropics, so refer to Queenslanders. There were a lot of Victorians who winter in Townsville and play bowls.
It was a teams of four game and I played as a second. They stopped at 4pm and put on a BBQ tea straight away – salad, sausages, thin pieces of steak. I did not enjoy the time spent sitting with the team we’d played against as my opponent was a real oaf. Contrary to the etiquette of these things, he did not offer to buy me a drink, so I was the only drink-less one at the table, whilst he happily quaffed the beer I’d bought him. He talked constantly, even while eating, so sprayed part-chewed food all over the table. His talk wasn’t even interesting. The time passed slowly.
In the team he was drawn in, John had played skip, didn’t play well and was beaten by a woman skip – that really hurt! So, he was receptive when friend S told him he had to change his bowls. Hooray – finally! He mulled it over then announced, later, that he wanted new bowls as soon as possible, so he could get used to them before getting home.
So, it looked like bowls shopping would be added to the Townsville agenda.
After the bowls BBQ, tea was not needed.
Along with 3.6 million others, at night we watched the final of MasterChef on TV.
There was no rush packing up, but we were still away by 10am.
The drive south was uneventful. The crazy drivers with their caravans were all still going north….
I felt like we were getting to know this section of the Bruce Highway quite well….too well.
I’d phoned the Rollingstone Caravan Park again, about 9am. Just my luck to get the less mentally well endowed of the reception staff. She was not helpful. I said I wanted to book a powered site for a week. According to her, all the sites I was interested in (i.e. on the flat) were booked. There was no way, to my mind that all these sites – at least 60 of them – were all booked out, for all the week. What it did mean was that she either couldn’t be bothered – or didn’t know how – to juggle bookings of one or two nights, around, to free up sites. It was not that hard – I knew from experience.
She did offer me a site, which I knew was one of those that sloped quite strongly down to the billabong edge. We’d watched vanners having great difficulty setting up on those sites, where it was almost impossible to get a van level, and very hard to hitch and unhitch. But she didn’t tell me it was a sloping site!
At that point, I gave up. I wondered how much business that particular person had cost the park?
John was not so deterred. He intended to call in there, as we were going past, to see if he could do better in person.
But, at 11am, as we were driving, the Rollingstone park phoned us. They had just got round to checking the answering machine and dealing with messages. Not a great way to do business. It was the dopey one again. I explained that I’d already phoned this morning, having given up waiting for them to respond to messages. I’d given my name, both on the answering machine and this morning, and explained we’d been there a few weeks ago. And so on. Obviously, she was not good at assimilating information. As we started to go into the whole rigmarole about level sites and availability, again, that was the point at which John gave up on them, too, and said to forget it.
We pulled into the Woodland Holiday Park, because we were going past, on the off chance they might have a vacancy. I did get a bit embarrassed, rocking up to such places without a prior booking, at this time of the year. But we scored a powered site for a week, just like that.
I asked if we could be sited away from the cabin we’d been near before, and explained why to the receptionist. She seemed very interested to hear about that problem and as if it was new to her. But I couldn’t believe there had been no previous comments from people staying longer than we had been.
Again, our site cost $27 a night on the weekly rate. It was on the other side of the internal road from where we’d been before – nice and large. Maybe not enough shade, but it was alright.
John seemed to have mislaid his knack of directing the backing in easily. A site this big should have been easy, but he had me to-ing and fro-ing a lot before he was satisfied.
After setting up, just relaxed for the rest of the day.
The alarm went off at 7.15am, half an hour later than I’d set it for. It was getting old and unreliable – or maybe it was just out of practice? So we started the morning in a bit of a rush and thus John forgot his camera, but we were at the office at the marina by 8.30.
It was a nice surprise to be told that today was half-price deal day, so we were to get a refund credited. ( I’d already paid by card, back before we had to postpone due to the fridge trip to Townsville.) So, the day trip only cost us $59 each, and that included $10 for lunch.
Hinchinbrook Island features
There were 39 people on the big cat boat, including four from WIN TV, who were going over to film a Postcards segment, and two hikers who were being dropped off to walk the Thorsborne Track from north to south. One of the other women on board was a housekeeper, off to work at the Eco Resort.
It was a really lovely trip across the bay, past Garden Island, which was the island in the film Nims Island.
Nims Island – in real life, Garden Island
There were great views of the coast to the north, after we left the Marina. The mountainous nature of this part of North Qld was very obvious.
Queensland coast, north of Cardwell
For once, we had a perfect weather day for our adventure.
We were not alone on these lovely waters, passing several yachts. I could – almost sense the attraction of exploring places via this medium. There was certainly no shortage of sheltered anchorages.
The boat went straight to the Eco Resort, at the northern tip of Hinchinbrook Island, at Cape Richards, which we went around, to view that and Orchid Beach beyond it.
Cape Richards
The Eco Resort was just visible, tucked in amongst the vegetation of the hillside. It was certainly unobtrusive.
Cape Richards; Eco Resort buildings barely visible in the bush at the back of Orchid Beach
We pulled up – briefly – at the resort dock, where the driver fed a couple of fish to a huge grouper lurking there. It obviously knew the boat well! The housekeeper got off, another man got on, and a small boat was attached to the back of our boat.
Pontoon jetty at the Eco Resort
We motored back and around to Missionary Bay.
The mountainous spine of the island was very obvious and its highest peak, Mt Bowen.
Missionary Bay and Mt Bowen
Also obvious were the mangroves that thickly lined the more sheltered shores of Missionary Bay.
Mt Bowen and mangrove lined inlet
The mangrove lined inlets off Missionary Bay provided a sheltered anchorage point for yachts – but I thought the sandflies must be fearsome at nights. Not sure there could be much dusk sitting out on deck in places like that.
Our boat entered a channel in the mangroves and we followed this narrowing waterway for some distance.
Eventually, we came to a point in the mangrove channel where, due to depth, the cat boat had to be moored. Now the purpose of the smaller boat we’d been towing became obvious. Half the party were offloaded and went off in this. Ten minutes later, it was back, and took the remainder of us further upstream, to a landing where we disembarked.
Towing our runabout
We had an hour to explore, before we were to meet the little boat again at the landing.
Once, we were told, there used to be a five minute walk from here, across to Ramsay Beach, but a “ladder” that protected the dunes had been damaged in the last Wet. So now it was a 20 minute walk that took us along the part of the Thorsborne Track.
Thorsborne Track
The others who set out with us took a short cut across a sand blow to the beach, but we had a very pleasant walk through the bush, to where the trail emerged at the far end of Ramsay Beach.
The long sand expanse of Ramsay Beach was superb, and peopled only by our fellow day trippers.
Ramsay Beach
Being time limited, we couldn’t spend too long on the beach. I hoped I’d taken some photos that did the place justice – it was seriously beautiful.
Then it was back the way we’d come, with the final part of the walk on the built walkway across the mangroves that bordered the channel we’d motored up.
We got to go back to the big boat in the first group. The little runabout ran out of fuel part way, but he had spare fuel. We waited on the big boat for the rest of the party, then motored back out the mangrove channel to Missionary Bay and back to the Resort.
Lunches were given out on the way back to the Resort, for those of us who had elected to pay for this, rather than BYO. It was good, too – a well-filled meat, cheese and salad wrap, muesli bar, apple, bottle of water, box of fruit juice. John ate his immediately. I kept mine for later, wanting to keep looking around and not be distracted by food.
We all got off at the Resort jetty and were directed to the dining deck/bar and pool side area.
It was all very tropical and seemingly low key. There was a view through the surrounding trees and bush, to the sea.
Outdoor deck at Eco Resort
The pool was very attractive looking, but there were too many people around looking on, for me to want to venture in.
I sat on the open air dining deck and had my lunch, relaxing with the laid back ambience of the place.
John and I walked down the steps from the Resort, onto Orchid Beach and walked along this small beach to the big rocks at its far end.
Resort was this close to Orchid BeachOrchid Beach
We could see schools of little fish in the water and I saw a dugong surface briefly, a few times.
Cape Richards from Orchid Beach
We spent over an hour, wandering along the beach and back.
Eco Resort, from end of Orchid Beach – well hiddenGoanna been here
Eventually we meandered back to the pontoon jetty and sat watching the guy who had driven the small boat show some of the kids from our group how to jag small fish – which he then released back.
Our tour boat
The Resort was closed to overnight guests because of Wet Season damage to some of the paths to the accommodation units and water damage to some of the “tree top” units. The place normally had three cabins for guests and fifteen of the elevated units, tucked in amongst the trees. It seemed rather strange to me that the damage from back then hadn’t yet been fixed, if it prevented having overnight guests which would have to be the main source of revenue.
Parts of the place looked a bit tired, too. It doesn’t take long in the Tropics! The pontoon jetty had been resurfaced for day trip use, but apparently needed completely replacing. In short, the place needed a substantial injection of funds. Someone said it was for sale. It would be sad if it did not open again as a resort, because it really was a very attractive place and the environment was superb. It also had the advantage of being not too far from the mainland, so didn’t need a long boat – or helicopter – transfer, to get to it.
We left the Resort at 4pm, and were back at Port Hinchinbrook Marina just before 5pm.
Marina – houses with their private moorings
The whole trip was excellent value. I felt privileged to have been able to visit Hinchinbrook Island. It was certainly worth the effort we made to – eventually – get here!.
On the way back to camp, went to the organic place again and bought some more of their yummy pasta, and bananas.
John decided we would have take away fish and chips for tea. The nearby shop that we went to was a bit poky and old-fashioned, but the fish and chips were very nice, and reasonably priced.
This morning, while waiting at the Marina to get on the boat, John phoned his Land Rover man in Townsville. He booked Truck in with him again, for Monday next. The man told John that the brakes were not likely to fail altogether on the way back, though I could not be totally confident about that. I didn’t like the thought of the “altogether”, particularly in combination with the Cardwell Range. Hi-ho, it’s back to Townsville we go!
John thought we should go back to Rollingstone. It was by the sea, and he knew I loved the pool there. I tried to call them at 5.30pm and only got the answering machine – a bit sloppy, I felt, at the height of the tourist season. Left a message saying I wanted to make a booking from tomorrow and asking that they call me back.
I had some doubts about staying at Rollingstone, anyway. John had already phoned his friend S and arranged to play bowls on Sunday, and he also wanted to play on Friday. So that was already three drives into Townsville. I said Rollingstone was just too far out. It would also be a problem if work on Truck was not finished in one day. We couldn’t agree. I thought The Lakes would be more central if there were transport issues. John did not like it there, he said. So nothing was settled, this night.
I got up quite early, and did two loads of washing. There was not enough line space – mainly because the park provided such a little amount of same. I ended up having to string some line under the van awning to hang some of the clothes there.
John drove up the street and picked up the bread rolls I’d ordered yesterday. After I’d made up the rolls for lunch, we went driving.
First stop was to check out the Port Hinchinbrook Marina area, to make sure we knew where to go tomorrow morning. This was just south of Cardwell itself. It was a canal-style marina and residential development. I remembered that it was the cause of much controversy, due to environmental concerns, when we came through this way in 1998. It did not appear to have really taken off since then. There were a number of lavish, big houses, with their own moorings, the resort itself, and a few shops. It did not look to be thriving. Quite a few places sported For Sale signs and there was a lot of empty, unsold blocks of land.
Port Hinchinbrook marina
On the assorted literature obtained from the Information Centre, the Cardwell Forest Drive appeared worth doing, so we headed westwards out of the township, to tackle that.
Cardwell Forest Drive
First stop was the carpark for the Cardwell Lookout, from which we did the 700 metre walk that took in all three lookout points. The views made all the effort worthwhile.
Cardwell and Rockingham BayPort Hinchinbrook marina entrance, with Hinchinbrook Island beyondWhere we would be going tomorrow
There were attractive grass trees along the pathway, and an unusual (to me, anyway) cycad.
Cycad?
The walk did involve a lot of stairs. I was definitely fitter – and lighter? – than when we walked in the Warrumbungles a couple of months before.
Lookouts walking trackVery handsome grass trees
The next stop on the drive was Attie Creek and Falls. It was not all that easy to follow the track into there – signposts were scarce. Where the road ended, the creek was a pool, and not flowing. We decided not to bother, in the heat, with the 1.2km walk to falls that would most likely be dry, anyway.
We had our lunch at the pleasant Attie Creek picnic area. There was lots of bird activity, so we got out the binoculars and watched for a while. Spotted a lovely Yellow Robin.
Drove on round to the Spa Pool. Getting to this did not involve a hike.
Spa Pool
As we were driving there, on the dirt road, straddled a nasty looking long, thin snake, sunning itself on the road. We couldn’t see behind, with the rising dust, but as far as John could feel, we hadn’t run over it. I just hoped it was still back there, and not hitching an angry ride hooked up in Truck somewhere. We were not about to stop right there to investigate, but when we reached the Spa Pool parking area, I was careful to look carefully before I got out of Truck!
The Spa Pool was an unusual, pale, milky blue colour. Again, the creek there was not flowing. There was lots of small, hungry seeming fish in the pool and we watched these for a while. The pool did not look at all attractive for getting into! Supposed it would be different when there had been good rain and creeks were flowing again.
We completed the loop drive through pretty valleys with small farms and emerged back onto the Bruce Highway about 10kms north of Cardwell.
Back to the van. Then we set out to walk along the beach to the jetty. It was hard going, with sloping, soft sand, so we didn’t go all the way, and walked back along the road rather than the beach.
Soft sand beach at Cardwell
Tea was sticky pork ribs, with rice. Very, very nice.
This morning, as we were about to leave the lookouts car park, for a moment there were no brakes at all on Truck. John now thought the vacuum pump had really gone, this time. Absolutely unbelievable!
After stewing it over for the rest of the day, he now decided that from here, we would go back to the Land Rover enthusiast – you guessed it – in Townsville AGAIN.
This Adventurous Age 