This Adventurous Age

Adventures travelling and working around Australia.

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2007 Travels August 7


This morning, M and John went fishing, off the beach and rocks. John caught a whiting.

Interesting rock patterns on the headland

A second yacht came into the bay, anchored, and the guy came ashore. He obviously was interested in talking to campers, so we obliged. He was an advisor to the Qld Premier, he said.

He asked if anyone was driving into Kalumburu, who could give him a ride in, for some supplies. We had heard a barge was due around now, and M wanted to take her truck for a drive to charge up the batteries for her fridge, so she decided to give him a ride in and check out the store. She came back with some fruit and vegies. We hadn’t seen it go by out in the Bay, but the barge must have snuck in and out, at some stage recently.

There was no bread, though. We’d long been reduced to having lunches of dried biscuits with cheese and vegemite – or sometimes pikelets or flatbreads, if I could stir myself in the heat to make these.

Early morning – organizing the day ahead…

JC came by. He said he could take M to Truscott tomorrow. John decided he would go too. It was going to cost $100 each. Despite the charge, I think JC really wanted to go check the place out, himself, too. Maybe he was seeing it as a potential tour offering, to add to the fishing trips he already took out. M was really pleased that the Truscott visit was going to happen.

Truscott location in relation to McGowans (Zoom)

McGowans Island – which was not on an island – was named for a little rocky islet just off the shore, nearby. A Father McGowan, from the Mission at some time way back in the past, used to go fishing from it.

Campground amongst the trees. McGowans Island is the low,rocky outcrop in distance, to right.

There were no night time dews here, like there had been at Honeymoon – maybe because this place received more breezes in the night. The Honeymoon dews were a pest because the place was so dusty that, in the mornings, dust would stick to the still damp tents. Our tent had darkened several shades at Honeymoon, and I doubted that would ever come out.

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2007 Travels July 30


After breakfast and a tidy up of our camp, we drove back into Kalumburu.

Time to get up….

Kalumburu’s origins as a community lie with the setting up, in the early 1900’s, of a small Benedictine Mission – to bring the “benefits” of Catholicism and European ways – at Pago. This was moved. some twenty years later, to where there was more reliable water and soil – by the banks of the King Edward River, near its mouth – Kalumburu. As was the practice, gradually the initially belligerent aboriginal groups were quietened, and many brought within the control of the Mission. Agricultural activities and cattle grazing provided food, and the children received some education.

World War 2 saw an influx of military activity based on airfields at Kalumburu and then the newly established Truscott Base, across Napier Broome Bay. The Japanese bombed Kalumburu and most of the non-military people were evacuated – some further inland, some to Wyndham. I remember Les being quite indignant to us, in 2000, about this – as a child, he was sent to Wyndham – “why they bomb us, we done nothin’ to them”.

Les in his boat

It was the mid-50’s before a road track gave land access to Kalumburu. Before that, all contact with the outside world was by sea or air.

As happened to other Missions, in more recent times, control of the community passed to the local people and governments. But the Mission did not close down and go away, and a rather unusual side-by-side system operated. Schooling by the nuns ceased. A community store was built and existed along side that run by the Mission. A police station was set up and staffed. The community’s affairs were run by a council of locals.

Again, as happened elsewhere, the standard of education achieved by the community’s children declined, as did the agricultural activities that had made the community more self sustaining. Law and order issues became more evident, and social cohesion declined. (Postscript: in later 2007-09, a number of men from the community, including council leaders, were charged with child sex abuse offences).

We noticed the community had quite a number of new houses and fences – replacements due to cyclone damage, I presumed. There was a new under cover sports area – a full sized basketball court size. It was roofed and open sided, as is the norm in these parts.

We studied the community notices, posted outside the Store and Office area – always informative! One stated that the community was not receiving the government’s hand out of white goods, because too many houses were being vandalized. Notice was given that parents who were not looking after their children, would be punished by being made to pick up rubbish around the community – rather reminiscent of the old emu-hunt discipline meted out to naughty school children! Another notice forbade children from playing card games during school hours – this hinted at two problems within the community: not attending school, and the prevalence of gambling on cards – poker in particular.

John had our gas bottles refilled at the Community Workshop. The guy manning that said his wife worked at the school. He said they were short of teachers and tried to convince us to come and teach there! But the things he was saying about the school and the community made it sound very reminiscent of Doomadgee school. No thanks – been there, done that. Never again!

Northern Rosella

Refuelled Truck at the Mission – the only source of fuel (we thought). The diesel was $2.288cpl. The priest who served us was quite belligerent when John commented on the price. Privately, we wondered what taxes – if any – as a church, they paid on the profits from their enterprise? The Mission was also running a campground, and a Store, in competition with the community one. I got the impression that any co-operative spirit that used to exist between Mission and community, had dissipated.

At the community store, there was no fresh produce. A barge was due “soon” we were told. I was running low on potatoes. Bought some frozen sausages. We would not be coming in every day to check whether the barge had arrived, so unless we heard somehow that it had, would just manage meals with what we had.

On the return trip, drove in and looked at the Marra Garra barge landing. Also thought we’d have a look at the set up at McGowans Island – another campground, in competition with Honeymoon. Back in 2000, this was supposed to have water problems and be almost non-functional. But now, after seeing it, M and John decided we’d move there on Saturday, when our week at Honeymoon was over, rather than stay on there. McGowans looked more interesting for M to explore, the rock fishing appeared better for John, and the campground appeared much nicer. There had obviously been big changes there to bring it up to a much better standard than it used to be. I was not as enthusiastic about moving as the other two – saw lots of mangroves there and thought the sandflies would be even worse.

At McGowans – looking up the bay towards the King Edward River mouth and the barge landing

I served John fish and fries for tea; to conserve potatoes, I had some pasta with sauce from a packet.

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2007 Travels July 28


We were up at 6am and away at 7.45.

Came across the mangled vehicle, still beside the track. He’d made a fair old mess of it. Judging by the big skid marks on the track, it had been on its way into the campground and Falls. It had been pushed to the side of the road, awaiting collection.

We stopped at the aboriginal art site by the King Edward River.

The grass around these had been burnt, so the various rocks and outcrops where the paintings occurred, were more obvious. It made wandering around the area really pleasant. The galleries now had board walks constructed around them, to protect the sites.

I thought that the “paint” had deteriorated since we first saw these, in 2000.

The Wandjina figures here are so powerful. They really do seem to be watching you.

As we approached the crossing of the King Edward River, a recovery tilt try truck was coming from the other side – presumably on the way to collect the accident vehicle. He mangled the crossing quite badly and had to reverse out to change direction. Definitely harder than it looks!

Recovery truck crossing the King Edward River

I think the river here had gotten deeper! We got water in the back of Truck, and on the back seat floor. I took photos of M doing the crossing.

Passenger’s view of the crossing
Truck fording the King Edward River

The road north to Kalumburu was rough – corrugated, still with some erosion channels, rocky in places. The Carson River Crossing, about 20kms before Kalumburu, had water in, but was straightforward.

We went straight through Kalumburu, noting that there seemed to be a number of new houses there. Continued on out past the airstrip, on the road to the barge landing, McGowans beach, Honeymoon Beach and the Pago Mission ruins. Whilst it was still rough, the track to Honeymoon did not have the deep sandy sections of before. It was usually somewhat re-routed every season, and they seemed to have found some firmer ground. There were none of the direction signs John had made on old tyres, in 2000, but the way was now better sign posted, with proper painted signs. However, we noted they had retained John’s star rating system – only now up to  seven stars! Ha!

Kalumburu localities

There did not seem to have been too much change at Honeymoon, and little for the better. The family now had a proper, high-set house, near the entrance, but all the old sheds were still there. They had survived the 2006 Category 5 cyclone, but it was noticeable that there was a lot less vegetation. Whole trees were gone, and the tops were out of most others. So the view was more open – and the camp area less shaded. The tank had gone off its stand – and was way down by the beach. The campground water was now very discoloured – a dark brown –  and was not drinkable – presumably the rather shallow bore had bottomed out. Campers had to have their own water with them – and replenish same if needed, in Kalumburu.

Les had not added any more to the partly built ablutions block to be, since 2000!

There were a lot more people here than we had expected. It was hard to find a spot to set up camp! In the end we had to opt for a place in full sun, but we did have a small view to the bay.

There were two large Bushtracker vans parked where we had camped in 2000, where there was still a little shade. On the other side of us was a camp of six men, here for the fishing. They were rather noisy – mostly just through sheer numbers.

There were sandflies in evidence now – and mosquitoes. Hadn’t had those here last time.

The showers – the same old two – were cold ones; what else could we have expected? There was no toilet paper provided – BYO! We found out soon enough that the campers from the Bushtrackers were cleaning the amenities each day, and emptying the rubbish bins. Relying on the paying guests to keep the place usable had not changed since 2000, it seemed.

Rather unwisely as it turned out, we’d already decided to stay a week here, before we had a good look round. We were charged $12 per person, per night, to stay here. Theoretically, we could pay $5 a night more for power, which we opted not to do. Good thing too, because the camp genset turned out to be off for most of each day – they were having problems with it.

Les’ wife Ruth was at the main shed, where they used to live, when we arrived. There were 13 puppies there too, including a kelpie-looking female pup that was absolutely gorgeous, and that I’d loved to have “rescued” and taken home with me. Unfortunately, not feasible.

It was very hot here.

Les remembered John, from 2000, when we had spent about three weeks here. We hoped he didn’t think John was going to do lots of free maintenance work around the place, like last time.

There was a community phone box here now – a steel box, 12 keys, no slots, no lights; it worked on punching in pre-paid card numbers only. I guessed it was about as vandal proof as they could make it.

We set up camp, then wandered about, looking.

The old camping shed was still down by the beach – it had survived, somehow.

The bay – Napier Broome Bay – was as beautiful as ever.

Napier Broome Bay from Honeymoon Beach

There was an area in front of our tents where there had previously been campfires, so we tidied that up, with a decent rock circle to contain it. Had loaded up some firewood onto the roof rack on the way here, so unloaded that. Here, it would be easy to go out into the bush and get more, as needed. In these parts, given the paucity and cost of gas refills, we tried, whenever possible to use a campfire for at least heating water, if not for cooking too. Even when it was hot, sitting round the embers of a campfire, into the evening, was pleasurable.

In this place, there was another practical reason for a fire – to burn as much rubbish as possible, given that the only collection of same from the campground, was done by fellow campers.

I think we both felt  sense of let down. We’d been prepared for this place to be pretty much like it was before, but to find it actually somewhat worse was a disappointment. Clearly, Les’ plans of 2000 had not really materialized; neither it seemed, had his hopes that some of his family would join him in the venture. There seemed to be a number of them living or spending time out here, but we did not see any of them contributing to the running of the place at all – apart from collecting the fees from the visitors.

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2007 Travels July 2


I woke up feeling perfectly fine, which was a pleasant surprise.

The caravan park had a dedicated area where residents could do vehicle work, including an oil change, so John and M did an oil change on both the vehicles – M with tutelege from John. It was a messy job.

While they were doing that, I went to the Park office, and arranged for the van to be stored here. It would be parked in their storage area, for $3 a day. Very reasonable.

We did a big food shop. At the butcher’s shop, M and I put in our orders for vacuum packed meats, which we would collect tomorrow. It was all meats minus bones – steaks, sausages, mince, chicken thighs. I learned the hard way, on a trip years ago, not to cryovac meat with bones that could pierce the plastic! Green chops anyone?

When we checked at the PO, the new phone had not arrived. Not good. We had been here long enough, without having to wait round for something like that! In fact, I would refuse to do so.

At the Visitor Centre, we bought Permits – as vaguely dated as we could manage – for Kalumburu, in case we did manage to get up there. At the moment, that road was still not open.

Refuelled Truck – $1.52cpl.

John phoned Telstra about the missing phone. They had sent the package to the caravan park, not the PO! Slight breakdown in communication right there!  He collected it. He activated the new computer internet connection – much faster. At least that was positive. Not that there would be much in the way of internet signals where we were going for the next month or two.

We started the long packing process. Some gear, food and clothes had to be moved from van to Truck, and packed appropriately. Some stuff would move from Truck to van, mostly to be squeezed in under the bed. Truck would need rearranging so we could access things differently. Basically, unpack everything and start again! We knew from prior experience that this would be a long and tiring job.

We sat round at Happy Hour, discussing what we would do whilst in the Bungles. M really wanted to do the walk to Piccaninny Gorge, and camp up there for a night or two. Well, she would have to camp at least one night, because it was about 15kms each way. John decided he really wanted to do it too. Unfortunately, we did not have enough of the right gear for all of us to do it. M’s small hike tent would sleep two at a squeeze, but definitely not three, for starters. I actually did not mind too much the idea of minding the camp and having a bit of time on my own!

Apart from that, it was decided we would try to visit all the accessible features of the Bungles – and would stay long enough to do so. If we were making the effort to get in there, we would make it worthwhile! It would not be a short stay…..

Today it was official – the Kununurra area had just smashed all previous rainfall records for June! The previous record had been 15.2mm – but we had just tallied up 98.9mm!  The average for June was just 4.0. Where we go, so goes the rain……..  It was also a new record low temperature June.

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2000 Travels August 3


It was a hot day that was windy in the morning, but by night there was a bit of a breeze.

Les came down and told us he would take us to see art. We were to meet him in Kalumburu, as he had some phoning to do – to try to get the phone put on to Honeymoon, for starters.

We drove in, and went to the Mission to get our gas bottles filled. That took half an hour. The young Irish guy that looks after the fuel centre was so slow, and rather strange. Gas for our two bottles cost $31.50.

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Sports court at Kalumburu, with the Mission behind

I bought some oddments at the store, and then we sat in Truck for an hour, waiting for Les. It was interesting, watching the passing parade of people, here. Eventually, John went in to ask Les how much longer he’d be, and he appeared.

Then we drove around the settlement, looking for R.

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In Kalumburu

Our first stop was out at Marra Garra – the barge landing. We were surprised to see a great deal of mining equipment here – a company called Striker is setting up to explore for diamonds. A track has been pushed through Carson River Station to the back of Ellenbrae Station, to get the gear up there. There was one white man relaxing and fishing there – it was his job to mind the equipment.

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Mining equipment at Marra Garra barge landing

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The coast at Marra Garra, looking across to the King Edward River mouth

We then followed Les up a defined track, but he stopped at a creek and decided we were going the wrong way. Further back along the Marra Garra road, he took to the bush and blazed his own track with the Nissan, for over a km. We followed, through the high, dry grass, hoping we wouldn’t rearrange something vital on a hidden rock or ant hill. It was rough.

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Going bush!

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Rock outcrops where art work found

We came into sandstone pillar type/Lost City formations and then walked a few hundred metres. Under a couple of overhangs in cave-like formations in the sandstone, there was much art work. It seemed to my very inexpert eye to have elements of both Bradshaw and Wandjina styles.

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Les was uncertain of the origins of it, and asked if we could figure out the meanings of it all! It is sad that loss of culture resulted from the Mission years – they did much that was beneficial, and much that is now seen as regrettable.

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Rock shelter and more art

We had to scramble up into the rocks to get to a second lot of art.

Les said it was alright to take photos.

Then we backtracked through the bush to the road. Les went off to town to make some more phone calls, and we went back to camp.

We’d gotten some bites from green ants, out in the bush, and they were stinging a bit.

Les said that he was going to take us out to the King George Falls, to the east of here, some 75kms away. He said there were tracks through their lands to the river. It was a really tempting offer – Europeans can usually only see the Falls from the sea, as part of a Kimberley cruise, or by private boat. But we were certain that the going would be slow and rough, and thus more than a day trip – and Les does really have a business to run! Even if he is rather casual about it, at times. We told him that we were grateful, but we did not think it was good to take him away from the campground for too long.

After lunch, we went for a walk out to the bore, for exercise.

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The bore and genset

We had a final drink with D and R, who leave tomorrow to go camp at the King Edward River.

Young M, the crane driver from the Argyle Mine, brought John back some oysters, so John had those as an entree to tea, which was fries and bluebone, followed by tinned apricots. M said he was coming back here for his next three week off spell. That would be great for Les, because M would do quite a bit of helping about the place.

Les confirmed that the big snake, last night, would have been a king brown. He said they are attracted to music! The shed inhabitants certainly play that loudly!

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2000 Travels July 25


It was hot and sunny again.

After breakfast, we drove into Kalumburu to get the dratted permit that we were unable to obtain when we passed through on Saturday. I have been conscious that, without it, our presence in these parts is not legal.

We had mentioned to Les that we did not have a permit yet. He did not seem to want to have anything to do with permits – he rubbished them and said that his Kwini group, based in Wyndham, would be getting all the land soon and would change the permit system anyway. He said they would then lease the land back to the Mission and the community – but the top six feet only! I am getting a distinct impression that there is a lot of aboriginal politics in these parts!

Les had also told us that he was amongst the Mission people evacuated to Wyndham during WW2. He seemed to take it almost as a personal affront that the Japanese had bombed the area.

We found our way “into town” alright.

Bought some supplies at the store – which had few windows, steel meshed, and solid, heavy, doors that were kept closed, and which customers had to open to enter. I spent $46 on some food items – predictably expensive, as one would expect, given that supplies come in by barge.

Got our permit from the Town Office.

Bought fuel from the Mission servo – $1.35cpl.

We went to the Tip to dump our rubbish, passing the remains of a crashed wartime plane at the end of the airstrip.

On the way back, out of curiosity decided to try to find the barge landing. With no signposts – I guess the locals know where places are! – we went down a rough track to Longengie Landing. It was a mooring area on the inlet of the King Edward River, but not the barge landing. There were a couple of boats there, and some WW2 relics. It was pretty desolate.

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Longengie Landing on the King Edward River, and brolga

Drove back to camp for lunch. Given the state of the track in the section just before Honeymoon, it is not a drive we would want to do too often.

After lunch, John got involved with helping Les’ mate R, and another guest – also R, fix a water leak that had sprung up outside the amenities block. It took the rest of the afternoon. They finished just on dark.

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Plumbing issues!

When Les came down to inspect progress, he brought a young grandson with him – lovely little boy.

I think John enjoyed the handyman work.

Tea was fries and tuskfish. Very nice.

Les and his mate R came round after tea. They had a cup of tea with us and sat and talked for a while, about measures needed to improve the campground, permit problems and the like. They take their tea sweet, so I had to beg some sugar from D – wife of the white R. I swapped it for a piece of watermelon.

D and R came over and joined in the talk. They are “doing” WA for a year. They have a camper trailer and hail from Sydney. They were on the Lake Argyle cruise at the same time as us – thought she seemed familiar.

Les said he doesn’t know how white people “get away with” changing husbands and wives – “this divorce stuff”. He said that if he didn’t keep his wife, he’d be in serious trouble with her people – it is just not done. He rolled his eyes at the thought of what would happen! Yet indigenous R has had two wives – “both no good”! He didn’t give us any idea of what happened to them though.

It was very pleasant, sitting around socialising, and gaining insight into other ways of being.

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2000 Travels July 22


It was a cold night again.

We were up at 6.30am, and packed and away by 9.30. No speed records there!

Our little freshie friend watched proceedings with great curiosity from the far side of the pool, for a couple of hours. He didn’t disappear until the tent was down.

Turned north again, on the Kalumburu road. North of Theda, the road was very variable. It was quite reasonable in parts, in others just wheel tracks on stony rubble.

There were regular water crossings, most shallow and not very wide at all. Some just a muddy patch on the road.

We drove into one such water crossing, following the tracks of a much larger vehicle that had entered the water on our side of the road. There was a car load of aboriginals approaching the crossing from the other side, so John kept to the one side. The water was very muddy.

We ground to a halt in the middle of what was basically a very large puddle! Even engaging the diff lock didn’t budge us. Eventually John worked out that we were hung up on a large rock. The tracks we’d followed must have gone each side of it, but he’d had a higher clearance!

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Not going anywhere…..

The aboriginal vehicle rocked and scraped, crossing beside us, but got through.

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They stopped to watch but not to help……

We had to winch out, but – as usual – there is never a good big tree around when you need one! However, there was a very large rock that we used.

It was not easy to set up for winching, with truck mired in knee deep water and mud. John hurt the soles of his feet, wading around getting out the needed gear and setting it up. Another tourist vehicle approached from the Kalumburu side, and he helped John with the winch. His wife complained to me about how expensive it had been at the beach camps there. They had gone and camped in the bush instead, and then been told off for being where they shouldn’t be.

The winching out produced a loud scraping noise from under Truck. We hoped it wasn’t a vital area! Our tourist helpers scraped their rear and exhaust, crossing where it was “good”. We wondered what this crossing would be like by the time we came back this way.

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Winching out, using large boulder as anchor

Obviously a big vehicle had churned up the crossing, recently, despite the supposed road closure to vehicles over 7 tonnes.That might have been the truck noise we thought we’d heard a couple of days ago. We were pretty annoyed.

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It looks so innocuous…..

Further on, we encountered some locals in a conventional car, stuck in another crossing. He was a white man, with an aboriginal lady and young child on board. We winched them out. We thought they would have more trouble where we were stuck, and warned them about it.

The lady said there had been a BP fuel road train into Kalumburu, because the town had run out of diesel. He’d been and gone, so our theory seemed confirmed. Pity they couldn’t have barged some fuel in, like they do in the Wet!

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Helping out some locals….

We travelled on, through some picturesque country, with hills, stony rises, creek gorges, and the black rock faces of the Carson Escarpment. The crossing of the larger Carson River was no problem.

The Kalumburu township did not look too bad, but it was all closed up, of course. It looked fairly well kept. There was some litter, but we had seen worse.

Kalumburu began about 1905, when Benedictine monks from New Norcia, near Perth, set up a mission for the aboriginals of the remote Drysdale River area – at the Pago Creek, some 30kms north of the present location. In 1930, the monks were joined by Benedictine nuns.

In 1932, the mission was moved to a site by a pool in the King Edward River, not far from its mouth, where there was permanent water. The mission was reliant on sea transport for goods it could not produce itself, although as air transport began, an airfield was built.

In WW2 the Drysdale air base became a significant part of the war against the Japanese, and Kalumburu was attacked and bombed. Many of the mission people were evacuated to Wyndham for the war. In 1944, the Truscott airfield was built on a peninsula on the other side of the bay, and the Drysdale base became less important.

Until 1951, the settlement was called Drysdale River Mission, then the name changed to Kalumburu. Cattle grazing and some cropping were successful activities, with the place being largely self sufficient. There was an emphasis on education – albeit for limited roles – and improving health.

The 1970’s saw the construction of a road south to meet the Gibb River Road, so land transport to the mission was established, in the Dry season.

In 1981, despite much resistance from the Mission, who did not regard them as capable of running their own affairs, the aboriginals obtained independence from the Mission and after that, Kalumburu was administered as an independent settlement, which now has about 500 people. It has the usual, store, Town Office, school, medical centre. The Mission remained, though, in its own premises, staffed by a few priests and nuns. It runs a church, store, museum, camping ground, and has the only fuel outlet in town.

Those religious staff who remained at the Mission must have been so disappointed to see the decline of the place under self-determination, and the descent of the people into welfare dependency, with increasing alcohol and drug issues, decreasing school attendance and literacy rates.

We had thought to stay in the Mission’s camp ground, but there was not anyone in it, so we decided to go and see what else was on offer. Our Kimberley guide wrote of two camp areas on the coast, run by local indigenous families. We aimed for Honeymoon Beach, the further of the two, but written up as the better one. It was about 26kms north of Kalumburu.

The road went out past the airstrip. Having the Moon’s guidebook was a godsend here, as signposts were non existent. The gravel road soon became more of a track. It was sandy in places and in others rather hard to follow. It was a matter of going the way that looked the most used, and hoping. There was a rudimentary sign at a fork in the track – left went to McGowans Island, straight ahead to Honeymoon – we hoped.

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We hoped we were following the right track….

That last section of the track was quite tricky. New tracks had been formed, there were detours. There were a couple of signs at crucial points, thankfully.

We came to the end of the track, at Honeymoon Beach, and thought it looked quite good.

The Les French family lived is a large tin/steel shed structure, with a large open air veranda section. There were a lot of young children around. An old lady sitting under the veranda structure took our camp fees – $10 per head, per night. We paid cash – the only option – for two nights, and were sent off to find our own place to set up camp, down a slight slope from the shed.

We set up camp in some shade. There were 6 or 8 other lots of campers around, in quite a big area. We were able to connect into a power box – electricity was an unexpected luxury, out here. There were water taps, at intervals, around the camp area. There were two toilets – flushing – and two showers – all unisex – in a partly constructed block. The rest of the block featured a toilet sitting on a cement slab – not walled in yet, and presumably not plumbed or in use! There was a wood heater for the showers.

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The partly built ablutions block

Our set up seemed to take ages. We were tired and hot. John had to change the plug on our electrical lead for it to fit the power point here, which is 10amp not 15.

We could just see the turquoise sea, down the hill. The sound of it was very strong.

I had a very welcome shower and washed my hair which felt full of Kimberley dust!

Just on dusk, we went for a walk along the beach – really pretty. There was a track down from our campground level to the beach, and down there was a large tin building, with campers staying in it.

There were people gathering oysters from rocks, further around from the beach – big ones!

We talked briefly with some of the other campers staying here. There were mixed comments from them about beach fishing here. John may go out on one of the fishing trips that Les French offers, at $40 a trip, which seems a reasonable rate – but John does not really like small boats.

We decided that, overall, this is quite a nice spot, and we would probably stay longer than the two nights we’d paid for, at this stage.

Tea was cold leftover patties from last night. John had baked beans with his.

After dark, the water went off. This did not auger well for the condition of the toilets, by morning!

It was very pleasant to drift off to sleep, lulled by the sound of the sea.

07-22-2000 to hmoon.JPG