Went Wandering in Western Australia
- Thread starter Zichar
- Start date
Zichar
Senior Member
Oh heh thanks, slowly and doggedly plodding along.
Am now wondering if a square crop would work better for <99>
>>
The lookout was a stay-on-boardwalk-only zone
For good measure; the rocky cliffs had no cover
Pebbles like ball bearings hasten one's slide downwards
Twenty five meters to the shoreline
Ingeniously, bunches of cut branches
Laid down along the cliffs topside
Erosion control
<101>
Zichar
Senior Member
Oh hey thanks for dropping by
There's umm still a lot more to go...
>>
The best moments are often unplanned
And staying at the boardwalk was certainly so
Danger aside, the waters looked so tantalizing
With tops of our heads broiling under the sun
The description plaque proudly proclaimed
Sharks, dolphins, fishes and rays!
To which we exasperatedly shouted out
Where?!
Minutes passed staring into azure blue waters
Mentally conjuring, with force of will
Leaping dolphins, gliding rays
Schools of fishes and the telltale fin
When with a shriek we saw
Those dastardly black shapes began to move
Not rocks nor grass
But surely creatures of the sea
Oh for five pairs of binoculars
I'm pretty certain this was a manta ray
And we did spot dolphins, schools of fish and possibly a shark or two
Honest
<102>
Zichar
Senior Member
I must have said 'we've still got time'
One time too many
So we jumped in and drove like mad
to our next stop, Red Bluff station
140km from the nearest town Carnarvon
All I had were email instructions
(And a GPS map which showed us sailing in the Indian Ocean)
To turn right at the large 'King Waves Kill' sign (surfer's talk?)
Where the blacktop stops and gravel starts
We stopped at the sign, but I turned around to take in the lighthouse behind us
One time too many
So we jumped in and drove like mad
to our next stop, Red Bluff station
140km from the nearest town Carnarvon
All I had were email instructions
(And a GPS map which showed us sailing in the Indian Ocean)
To turn right at the large 'King Waves Kill' sign (surfer's talk?)
Where the blacktop stops and gravel starts
We stopped at the sign, but I turned around to take in the lighthouse behind us
<105>
Zichar
Senior Member
Great series of photos :thumbsup:
And I love the poetic flair you have in your narrative as well
Thanks, I just type what's on my mind and what I can remember
Which isn't much these days, straining to recall the memories!
>>
From then on it was rough terrain
Marshmallows and peanuts pockmarked the road
Our teeth chattering, sweet decay, ground to stumps
I watched my brother alternate hands on the wheel
Rubbing the vibrations out on his sleeves
After a grocery run at Carnavon, we were late
And that threw a huge spanner into our schedule
Anxiety grew as we tracked the sun's path from atop
Moving slowly down our left
Yet lonely unsealed roads were not optimal for speeding
Only a solitary truck did we see hurtle down our way
Blow a tyre, turn turtle, thoughts flew by my head
As from time to time my brother would miss a ditch
Glare in his eyes
His cry of 'Sorry' coming as
Rear passengers gasped, bungie jumping on their seats
heads almost touching the roof, three rears came crashing down
Otherwise Jim's email descriptions were spot on
It would have been a glorious drive, the setting sun
The sight of the Indian Ocean hammering the coast,
the steep drop into
Nary 10 meters to our left
spraying sea meters high up in the air
Playing to some secret symphony
Yet we stopped for neither sea nor the herds of feral goats
(Tender, tastes great roasted on a spit,
so says the young butcher at Geraldton I met a week later)
The popping heads of kangaroos startled by the straining engine
It was with great relief that we encountered the sign that said
Red Bluff Station, ten minutes ahead
Joy when we stopped out front and rang the bell at Jim and Bec's cottage
Laughing, playing with their pet Dalmatian
And Wookie, the friendly roo; fears abated, forgotten
The view from our tent, pity I can't include the smell of small self victory
<106>
Zichar
Senior Member
nice photos, wonderful narrations
really enjoy reading as well as viewing
Thanks, much too kind
>>
It was one of the quickest unloading exercise we've ever done
Grab bags, struggle to the tent, deposit bags
And off we rushed to the beach
The wind was strong, the waves stronger
My shoes placed reverently at a nearby log
Two-handed pantleg roll-up manoeuvre
Running screaming at the waves as they yelled back even louder
The wet sand sucking greedily at my toes
And then the rubber feet of the tripod
Each step plunged myself ankle deep
<107>
sinned79
Senior Member
<105>
:thumbsup:
Zichar
Senior Member
Thanks for keeping up with the thread
>>
This the last I took at the beach
It turned dark fast
Our eyes squinting
Getting acquainted with the fading light
What was a quick run down the narrowly marked trails
Turned abysmally difficult
Harsh sun low rain fragile growth
Protect the vegetation Bec had told us
Takes many a month to grow an inch
Lead us home
I handed my torch to the head of our march
And we meekly followed closely
When with a startled stop, bumping into each other
Scrappy into Scooby into Shaggy
Forced whisper, my brother exclaimed
I saw something slither across!
Put on my shoes so fast, world record
And we scrabbled up rocks and stones back to the tent
Twilight. When safe at the beach.
<108>
Zichar
Senior Member
Thought I'd include this in, my first ever attempt at startrails
It was distinctly dark, even after your eyes adjust, you're still straining to see
Rummaging through my bag for my credit card-sized small hyperfocal chart
I mucked up, badly
It's interesting to me still, considering the absence of light
the waves turned out to be such a thick overblown bar of white
Had thought I'd get the misty look at worst
Can only guess why it happens
It was distinctly dark, even after your eyes adjust, you're still straining to see
Rummaging through my bag for my credit card-sized small hyperfocal chart
I mucked up, badly
It's interesting to me still, considering the absence of light
the waves turned out to be such a thick overblown bar of white
Had thought I'd get the misty look at worst
Can only guess why it happens
<109>
Zichar
Senior Member
And so we slept to the rhythmic sound of waves
Reverberating, amplified in our tent
The wind, it grew, life of its own
Threatening to pull the roofs apart
Whistling through the gaps
Hooking its fingers to the zippers in the double flaps
Tugging and tearing, the flaps break free, rapping against each other
It was absolutely maddening!
In the morning however, all was forgotten
Oh how beautiful I remarked
Short-term memory loss, a common affliction on holidays
Reverberating, amplified in our tent
The wind, it grew, life of its own
Threatening to pull the roofs apart
Whistling through the gaps
Hooking its fingers to the zippers in the double flaps
Tugging and tearing, the flaps break free, rapping against each other
It was absolutely maddening!
In the morning however, all was forgotten
Oh how beautiful I remarked
Short-term memory loss, a common affliction on holidays
<110>
Zichar
Senior Member
Tiny bodies dot the horizon off the Bluff
As surfers wake up early to ride
King Waves Kill indeed
We met baby Max the day before, oh-so-cute
With a gentle demeanor
(to strangers only it seems)
His tired-tired mother greeted us with apologies
(embarassingly, we spoke so often but I never got her name)
For Max was on a 4-hour wake-up-then-cry cycle
He'll disturb you at night I'm so sorry, she fretted
(He lost out, see waves above)
She was always glad for the company,
or at least the distraction so she could do her chores
Her husband, the surfer, in the ocean more than land
She never did like the cold winter
An Uruguayan married to a local, I muttered on instinct 'Diego Forlan'
To which she smiled and let loose her World Cup stories
Ah football, that which unites the world
Wrily I kept quiet, avoiding debate on Luis Suarez
As surfers wake up early to ride
King Waves Kill indeed
We met baby Max the day before, oh-so-cute
With a gentle demeanor
(to strangers only it seems)
His tired-tired mother greeted us with apologies
(embarassingly, we spoke so often but I never got her name)
For Max was on a 4-hour wake-up-then-cry cycle
He'll disturb you at night I'm so sorry, she fretted
(He lost out, see waves above)
She was always glad for the company,
or at least the distraction so she could do her chores
Her husband, the surfer, in the ocean more than land
She never did like the cold winter
An Uruguayan married to a local, I muttered on instinct 'Diego Forlan'
To which she smiled and let loose her World Cup stories
Ah football, that which unites the world
Wrily I kept quiet, avoiding debate on Luis Suarez
<111>
Zichar
Senior Member
And so, on to stupid mistake number 3...
We had no choice but to make a trip to town
In our frantic flight here, we ended up with half a square left
The needle, faint, lethargic, trying with all its might but couldn't pull itself upright
Oh regret, when we passed by our last gas station yesterday
I looked at the fuel gauge waved it off, a dismissive swoop of my hand
When all else fails, read the manual!
In the glovebox my trembling hands dug
Flipped back and forth to find out an estimate
Closest to helpful:
'When the low fuel' warning indicator comes on, please fill with:
Unleaded petrol of RON92 or higher'
A painful lesson then - Know your range!!!
We sped along the rutted path,
Holes, bumps, ditches and trenches no longer of dangerous consideration
Cruising speeds save more fuel he assured me
The air conditioning was off, the passengers deadly silent, everyone probably holding their breaths
Fearing the slightest movement would incur a weight penalty
Our hearts sank when my brother announced the light had come on
Where was that gas station?!
Of the cars we met, counted with ease on one hand, my brother overtook, not slowing down a bit
Eleven long minutes the indicator light was on, hot, red, branded into our retinas
When the most welcome sight greeted us - the towering green sign of BP!
We rolled into the first pump and I could have sworn the steam off the engine, the car's sign of relief
I whipped out my wallet and told my brother - Ten bucks, then let's go look for another station with a better discount...
More famous last words
Happier times later at the One Mile Jetty, Carnarvon
We had no choice but to make a trip to town
In our frantic flight here, we ended up with half a square left
The needle, faint, lethargic, trying with all its might but couldn't pull itself upright
Oh regret, when we passed by our last gas station yesterday
I looked at the fuel gauge waved it off, a dismissive swoop of my hand
When all else fails, read the manual!
In the glovebox my trembling hands dug
Flipped back and forth to find out an estimate
Closest to helpful:
'When the low fuel' warning indicator comes on, please fill with:
Unleaded petrol of RON92 or higher'
A painful lesson then - Know your range!!!
We sped along the rutted path,
Holes, bumps, ditches and trenches no longer of dangerous consideration
Cruising speeds save more fuel he assured me
The air conditioning was off, the passengers deadly silent, everyone probably holding their breaths
Fearing the slightest movement would incur a weight penalty
Our hearts sank when my brother announced the light had come on
Where was that gas station?!
Of the cars we met, counted with ease on one hand, my brother overtook, not slowing down a bit
Eleven long minutes the indicator light was on, hot, red, branded into our retinas
When the most welcome sight greeted us - the towering green sign of BP!
We rolled into the first pump and I could have sworn the steam off the engine, the car's sign of relief
I whipped out my wallet and told my brother - Ten bucks, then let's go look for another station with a better discount...
More famous last words
Happier times later at the One Mile Jetty, Carnarvon
<112>
Last edited:
Zichar
Senior Member
With the car and ourselves filled up nicely, it was time for a walk around
The fried fish swimming lazily in our tummies demanded an exercise
At the north edge of town was the One Mile Jetty
1.6km of old planks, littered with holes, the water peeking from below
The group of men ahead of us grumbled, plonking down their gold coins
'Well I never paid 3 bucks to walk on a jetty...'
I paid and my parents sped off into the distance <112>, the 'younger' opting for a more leisurely stroll
From pneumatophores sprouting from brownish muddy mangrove to the dark turqoise of sea
Without cover the wind was blasting us from all directions
My eyes opened in slits, partly from the sun
When we reached the end, this scene took me entirely by surprise
My dad sitting chatting happily with an angler
I smiled as I recalled: always easy to strike up a conversation talking about fishing
They didn't even know I was right behind them taking photos!
The fried fish swimming lazily in our tummies demanded an exercise
At the north edge of town was the One Mile Jetty
1.6km of old planks, littered with holes, the water peeking from below
The group of men ahead of us grumbled, plonking down their gold coins
'Well I never paid 3 bucks to walk on a jetty...'
I paid and my parents sped off into the distance <112>, the 'younger' opting for a more leisurely stroll
From pneumatophores sprouting from brownish muddy mangrove to the dark turqoise of sea
Without cover the wind was blasting us from all directions
My eyes opened in slits, partly from the sun
When we reached the end, this scene took me entirely by surprise
My dad sitting chatting happily with an angler
I smiled as I recalled: always easy to strike up a conversation talking about fishing
They didn't even know I was right behind them taking photos!
<113>
Zichar
Senior Member
On the other side of the shed, I met with the same scene
No idea what my parents were up to, divide and conquer?
Just before I pressed the shutter, a shout came from where my dad was
A fellow angler, a silver haired man, had hooked up a huge blowfish, almost 3ft long!
The commotion caused everyone to look
Dangling a little off the surface of the water, he couldn't lift it up even with help
Known to be a worthless catch, fisherman <113> held up his pliers
A bit of back and forth ensued but finally he was convinced that the line was better snipped
He looked dismayed
No idea what my parents were up to, divide and conquer?
Just before I pressed the shutter, a shout came from where my dad was
A fellow angler, a silver haired man, had hooked up a huge blowfish, almost 3ft long!
The commotion caused everyone to look
Dangling a little off the surface of the water, he couldn't lift it up even with help
Known to be a worthless catch, fisherman <113> held up his pliers
A bit of back and forth ensued but finally he was convinced that the line was better snipped
He looked dismayed
<114>
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