Principality of Hutt River

So today then,  and the Principality of Hutt River, and what an excellent day it turned out to be. 

I actually woke up very early as I was dreaming that a kangaroo was trying to start my bike but fortunately, it was a false alarm. But what it did mean though was that I was up before the sunrise, and able to watch from the comparative luxury of my tent as the long shadows already reaching over the dewy grass receded towards the hedge as the pale light grew stronger and a bright orange fireball burst over the horizon. 

It always surprises me just how quickly sunlight appears and disappears over here in WA. One minute its light, the next dark, and in the morning, the reverse; pale cool light then bam, full on sunlight, and time to get up.

At 10.00 am, Prince Graeme was waiting for me, standing on the steps of the Government buildings, which rather handily is right next to the Post Office, and ready to take me on a tour. Formerly a primary school teacher who worked out bush near the Fitzroy Crossing up in the Kimberley region, he moved back to the Principality just two weeks ago.

A proper interdenominational chapel which can be used for weddings, is next to the main buildings,  a fully fitted place of worship, complete with paintings depicting Jesus and biblical scenes. 

These paintings were commissioned by Prince Leonard a few years ago, and painted by a British born Aussie artist called Frank Pash. Apart from being stonkingly good, they are exceptionally detailed. 

Apparently one of Frank’s things was to sketch real people and use their faces in the characters in his work. So in the Nain chapel paintings are various people who either work in HRP or have  done so, including Ray the chippy, a TV news crew, one of whom was later kidnapped and shot in East Timor, Prince Richard, and the artist himself. When Princess Shirley died last year, the chapel was rededicated to her, and there is now a memorial outside its main door.

Ray the chippy in red

frank the artist on right

One of my favourite discoveries of the day though was the HRP communications and GPS Centre - an old Hills hoist washing line to the side of a shed. Its the only place in the principality that a phone signal or GPS can be picked up - if you stand under it. Even  princes have too follow the protocol.

But something that definitely does work as it should is the Rolls Royce parked under the shade cloth. It was given to Prince Leonard on the 40th anniversary of the Principality being set up, and was itself 40 years old that year - 2010. Prince Leonard drives it around, but one of his sons chauffeurs him when he takes it on official visits into Australia. 

The full story of HRP is one of indignation and determination. Leonard  and Shirley Casely bought the land a while back and grew wheat. They were growing 100,000 acres of the stuff but then in 1969, the WA Govt imposed a quota on them, and planned to reclaim some of the land for their purposes, telling them they could only grow 1000 acres. Of course, that wasn’t enough to give them an income but worse still, the Govt delayed declaring the actual quota until a month before the harvest was due - then decided that rather than 1000 acres, it would actually be 100 acres, or  1/1000 of their former capacity and usual production. 

Unsurprisingly, Leonard was unimpressed and took the Government on, teaching himself law and researching British and Australian legislation in order to trace the application of law relating to his case. And he found what he was looking for; that the WA Govt was only entitled to reclaim 1/20th of his land, so what they were actually doing was illegal. Leonard won his case and in April 1970, declared his farm - which covers an area the size of Hong Kong - a principality, with him as head of state - Prince Leonard, his wife Shirley his consort, Princess Shirley, and all seven of his children became prince or princesses. And that is how it has been ever since, with the principality formerly recognised as an independent  sovereign state. It has its own Post Office, own coinage, own national anthem, flag, state car (the white rolls Royce) coat of arms and national flag.

It is an incredible story, but then I met Prince Leonard, I began to understand why. 

Now 88, nearly 89, this is a man with a very sharp and intuitive mind, and sparkey intellect. But he is also very ordinary ( in the nicest way), having left school at 14 with no particular qualifications or pretentions, to work in Fremantle as a shipping clerk. He decided to learn all he could about it, so he did, and became an expert. Then he met Shirley Butler, a secretary from Perth, married her, and they eventually had seven children. 

In their time together, Leonard also became a geologist,and owned and operated a copper mine, a  mathmatician, and wrote calculations for NASA to stop them losing a third satellite ( they had already lost two because of an error in their trajectory calculations, which Leonard realised, rewrote and saved the day). Then he became a farmer, and eventually head of his own state. And  Prince Leonard is still doing his mathematics, working out all sorts of stuff which is then used by academic and scientific establishments around the world. But the best thing about all of this is that he is lovely, a really nice man, and a unique character. 

I spent nearly three hours looking around the place and chatting to both princes and thoroughly enjoyed meeting both of them. I had my passport stamped with both an entry and an exit visa, actually an official process too, not a gimmick, and Prince Graeme showed me exactly what the ultra violet light used on passports at borders, reveal. It was interesting and I now know why so many people get caught with dodgy passports; so many hidden checkpoints which only show up under that light.

After leaving, I rode on dirt for about an hour, then headed north up the highway towards Carnarvon. I reached Binoo where I stopped for fuel, only to discover the servo was shut. As  I prepared to leave, another bike pulled in and yelled ‘oi’ to me. It was Russ from Chelmsford, over here on a working holiday and travelling the world by bike. We had a good old chat for about an hour, swapping stories, tips and places to camp, before heading off in separate directions.

I had intended stopping at Billabong Roadhouse, recommended by Russ but realised that it was late, so I stopped short, just up the road at Galena Bridge. An official 24 hour freecamp, with room for many rigs, and plenty of firewood. So I built my fire, set up camp, made some coffee and am now watching the sun - the same sun I saw burst into life this morning - drop down behind the horizon. It doesn’t get much better than this.

I slept well last night inspite of the cows and was on the road by 0830. It was a bit blowy for most of the day bit I just pottered along, singing to myself and watching the birds.  I saw a falcon swoop down and pick up a piece of rope from the roadside but then realised if wasn't rope but a snake. Saw the usual roos and wedge tail eagles, brahman cows and that's about it, animal wise.

First stop of the day was Pardoo roadhouse where I had a coffee then a lunch/ fuel stop at Sandfire. where and met Peter and Lesley, originally from Epsom. They gave me details  of various free camps on the direction I was heading which saved me the job of finding them for myself.

A peacock and several other birds strutted around the tables, learnt having realised the value of the place as crumb central.

I also chatted to a truckie who told me about his own travels and then  all about local wheat farming. He reckoned small famers spend between 1.5 - 5 million dollars per year on seed, gambling that it will grow ok and not get wet and germinate the heads. That's a stonking amount of money to gamble on the e weather, and pitch against crops grown by other big producers - Russia, Ukraine and N America. He also reckoned that wheat in WA  costs a third of what it costs to grow over in NSW. Something  to

do with freighting charges and the fact that WA crops are grown as a cooperative system.

A bloke on a VIctory pulled up too, massive  against Gerty. Dean from Melbourne, ex USAF and originally from South Missouri , heading for Broome. He was nice to chat to and these  chance roadside encounters are what makes trips like this for me, crossing paths with others and then going on your way again.  They are like little punctuations a in a day which you can't foresee but still shape what that day becomes for you. 

I'd only gone about 90 kms  further on when I met Mike, another long distance walker, pushing his trolley round Oz, this time in aid of Arthritis and men's health. I had a chat to him and he later camped next to me at the free camp, where I also rediscovered Peter and Lesley and met Maryeka and Gerald.  

Mike has walked Australia before, averaging about 40 kms a day and replanning his day so that he goes to bed by 6pm and gets on the road at about 0200, making uses off the cooler hours of darkness. He also reckons it's safer because it's only road trains on the road at that time which he can see coming and get out of the way of.

He also said that walking has become a way of life for him, helping him deal with various conditions, one of which affected his ability to walk; he used sticks for many years but gradually got himself more mobile to the point where he now walks a continent. Determination and positive thinking at it's very best.

Vroome Broome

Bloody hell; I hadn't realised what a din cows make when they're eating. They stomp and chomp both at the same time, which is very weird and a bit unnerving when you're sitting on the ground on the dark and there are six of them about 10 metres away. Funny thing is, when I look up, my head torch catches their eyes and they stop what they're doing and look at me, 12 eyes shining green out of the bush, with clumps of grass hanging from their mouths. I just hope they don't take a fancy to my camo tarp which is over my tent and may look like tasty vegetation.

I left Alex and Mendy this morning at about 1045. Alex went to work early, then came back and cooked breakfast which was mighty fine of him. A really nice genuine man, and kind too.

The ride to Port Hedland was pretty uneventful, which after yesterday, I was glad of. No dramas, no distractions along the route and flat open scenery with a few rock outcrops and lots of red dirt. It was a bit breezy too but nothing major. 

I made good time to PH, which is a port town serving the mining industry and surrounded by roadworks. Loads of them. It really is road train central and it looks like they are widening the roads to create easier access for the monsters. 

Can't be fun living there with those things trundling by every few seconds but then I guess most people there make their living from the stuff that goes on there.

PH is also the outlet for salt. Not the stuff you put on your chips but industrial salt. I think it's the worlds biggest exporting location and there are pans all the way along the road as you approach. And they talk about ' growing ' the salt - letting the crystals form - then harvesting it.

 Huge piles tower over the town, waiting to be shipped away. 

The trains are pretty big too, several kms long, hauling iron ore to the port. This is not a pretty picturesque town and it's not the sort of place that you would spend your hols; it's a bit like east London was  before they turned it into the Olympic village - industrial and a bit of a rusty eyesore with people and houses dotted here and there, with bare ground and pitted roads. 

But I'm glad I dropped in as I quite like the massiveness of such places.  Such a huge collection of stuff and it's supporting infrastructure really does deserve a closer look because in some way or another, we all benefit from it. 

And the people in the info centre were really helpful. I only found it by accident because I spotted their board as I rode past on my way to the wharf. I also thought it was either closed or derelict because it had very dirty shade cloth over the windows and red ore dust up the walls. But I pulled the door open to reveal a very clean and well stocked shop with some interesting stuff. Fortunately, I have no space  so i wasn't tempted so  I just asked how far it was to the next roadhouse. 

With nightfall only 90 minutes away, 120 kms was pushing it a bit, especially as well as roos, there is wandering stick all along the highway. But the lady reckoned I could get to DeGrey, 83 kms north of PH. She was right too; found it, pitched my tent and had grub well on the go before the sun disappeared. No moon again tonight, so it is very dark. And there are many vans here but it's so big that it wasn't a problem finding a spot where I  won't get run over by RVs. 

Tell you what is really cool out here ... lots if tiny green twinkles on the ground. Upon investigation I discovered spiders, about the size of bottle top, their eyes also being lit up by my head torch. Couldn't get clear pics though as they are the same colour as the ground and run off when I try to snap them.

 

And a few frogs, tiny ones in the grass just outside my tent. Think I'll take my boots into my tent with me tonight, smelly it not .......

more dramas.....

Well I was going to leave point Samson yesterday and travel up to Port hedland, but the sprockets had not arrived, meaning I would be delayed until later in the day. But anyway, the previous evening, I met some lovely people who invited me to stay with them last night - Alex, and Mendy and Raymar, although I'm not sure how they fit together. But they are all very cool, and I spent a good evening just chilling with Alex ( his house) and Mendy.

But the day was somewhat trying as is now usual for me. I was up and out early, everything packed and my stuff dropped off at Alex's house by about 0720am. That meant I could ride to Karratha unloaded. So off I go and had been on the road for about 30 minutes when a road train very nearly took me out. He came up really close behind me, and was pushing to overtake but there was nowhere for him to pass. So he waited for a hill to appear ( we were going up it) with solid whites and a van coming the other way, and pulled out. Then he cut in very tightly, the second trailer brushing my arm. I was actually in the process of pushing up on the pegs to jump off Gerty and roll onto the gravel verge when the back of him got by. It was very close. But as he carried on, he was all over the place - on the verge, veering into the oncoming lane, and swinging about. High or pissed.

So after that adrenalin kick, I got to the sprocket shop to discover that my sprockets - ordered last Wednesday and which I was promised would be there by Tuesday at the very latest, had still not arrived. Apparently they had been loaded onto the plane yesterday but then removed by the freight company. But NW Honda had not thought to phone me and tell me but after profuse apologies, two cups of coffee, and a two hour wait, they sorted something out and I was on my way. The lady in the shop  also kindly found  me contact numbers for suppliers in Broome and a Kununarra.

My phone had given up the ghost by this morning and the lady in the Honda place told me about a phone fixer in town, so I headed there next. Unfortunately, I was chased and bitten by a dog on the way. Bloody thing. Must have thought I was the real postie and he nipped the back of my left calf, but only just got me. Didn't rip my riding pants though, so that was good.

I found the phone man, paid him $65.00 and he changed the battery. It didn't work first time though but he refixed it and now it seems to be doing what it is supposed to do. I managed to buy some oil and do an oil change in the time I was hanging around, so again, that worked out well.

No pictures today - no phone to take them on and too busy avoiding further fiascos!

Onwards northwards

I  stayed in Carnarvon last night. Memorial Drive, a road several kms long, is lined with individual plaques on both sides, commemorating the loss of life aboard HMAS Sydney II  during WW2.

And a School of the Air base - the teachers bit. I was fascinated by this as a kid, and understand that it's now really up to date with kids in remote areas benefitting from email and Skype type stuff so they can see their teachers face to face. That must reduce their isolation dramatically, although I don't know if there is a link with other pupils. 

I also found out that the old telegraph office in Hamelin Pool saved the American space programme back in 1964. Apparently the Gemini  space craft was orbiting over this part of Australia when it vaporised part of the  line telecommunications. But the old morse link that was still intact, so local lady, Mrs Lillian O'Donoughue, spent the next four hours sending messages back and forth to NASA until they fixed it, for which she later got a special award!

Then I met  a real life Lillian - Sandy and Lillian at Sandy McGinns (Honda) mototcycles in Robinson Street who are the business! Super helpful people. They ordered the parts I needed no trouble by phone to my next stop as they didn't have them in stock, replaced my chain, and changed my tyre as I couldn't do it with my dodgy hand ( courtesy of the cannula from my hospital stay) and then wouldn't let me pay any labour costs. What nice people; it's so nice when you meet such good people and makes up for those Honda idiots in Wagga Wagga before Christmas.

                                        Sandy moving Gerty

After that, the bank and another  helpful person who sorted out an issue with my card. Must be great person day today!

So with two main jobs done, I moved off towards Coral Bay via the servo and another chatty lady there who gave me excellent directions and unconfused the directions Google maps was insisting I took.

 It's plantation central out here , with bananas and mangoes ( I think) flanking the highway.

But evidence of  the dire drought situation is ever present although the verges are surprisingly green. This area had heavy rain recently, hence the verdant verges, and was flooded, yet already the rivers are drying out.

And it's also big road train country up here. I'm used to three trailers but they do four up this way and when they pass, they just keep on coming. 

My 'sit in the middle of the lane' tactic seems to be working and is far less scary than allowing them to squeeze by and risking them getting it wrong. I let them know I know they're there by flickng my indicator, and so far, so good; no dramas  to date.

I also crossed the Tropic of Capricorn this arvo - 23 degrees south. I crossed the Tropic of Cancer  a few years ago,also on a bike, that time in Western Sahara, but they had misspelt the sign and it read Topic of Cancer. Funny. Sounds a bit like a BMA Journal write up.

Coral Bay zoomed up as planned by late afternoon. I had planned on a free camp but because there is no free camping in the actual bay, I stopped just short of it and found a good spot off the road and up a bit higher which vehicles can't reach. There is supposed to be an official free camp along here but I must have missed it although there is a layby right by the side of the highway. That's a bit too exposed for my liking though. So I'm tucked away under some scraggy trees, now  with a canopy of stars stretching as far as the eye can see in all directions. Not bad! I even managed some real food tonight instead of canned stuff. Gourmet scrambled eggs with real veg. Nice. 

Ningaloo Reef is off Coral Bay  which is where whale sharks, the worlds largest fish, hang out this time of year. You can swim with them but at a price which I can't afford,so I'll  just have to imagine. But then again, I'm not too keen on the whole fish thing so I'm not fussed.

In the bush again....

Well I'd expected to camp at a roadhouse tonight, having been told it was a major overnight stop but when I arrived there was no camping and ' No camping for the next 165 kms ' according to the woman taking fuel money.

So I rode on and looked for a rest area but there were only roadside lay-bys, right on the highway. They're no good for me as I'm likely to get run over and they're far too noisy anyway. So it's another bush camp tonight, set up just before sundown , no moon and a fabulous ceiling of stars. 

And while sitting here typing this, I've seen four satellites whip across the sky from side to side, much quicker than a plane of course and perhaps having spotted me down here, despite my efforts to hide away.

It's very balmy out here too, and the mozzies are out on the town, buzzing and chomping away. Plus some goats are nearby and I can hear them snorting. They're feral and a bit of a pest but harmless, although they are a law into themselves. I just hope they don't find me and eat my tent. The wild pigs are the things to avoid though. Mad things with tusks that charge anything.

I've got more used to the sounds of the bush now , what with crickets and frogs, snorting goats and a few birds which scream. They're a bit scary at first because birds usually sleep at night but not these. Curlers or something. 

The run up from Coral Bay was a bit tedious, flat scrub land for miles and miles but on days like that I sing to myself or try and memorise all 50 states that make up the US or the names of all the girls who were in my class at school. I fail miserably on both counts always but it keeps me amused. And I do have my iPod of course.

The every now and then, amusing bits of roadside art appear. This bloke was made of all sorts - an old mower fuel tank, a lampshade hat, fishing buoy head, sprocket fishing reel, and a bit of old pole. Plus a bona fide boat and an office chair in it. 

And there were these giant and hill

things, dotted all over the place. And they're big too, each kms standing about 2 m high.

Coral Bay is a beautiful place and sheltered by the Ningaloo Reef, but well on its way to becoming a commercialised and crowded  resort. I had planned to stay overnight at the backpackers but was put off by the backpacker party gang outside so left. And that was a shame because apparently a dead whale was trapped on the reef  and tiger and bull sharks had been feeding on it all week. That would have been worth an hour trip for $40.00 in the glass bottom boat,  but  Pauline in the booking office was in such a bad mood that I walked away from that too, as did the four other people asking about the same thing. But I did go down to the boat ramp to see the fish and also had a swim while I was there.

Gerty posed on  the jetty with Ningaloo Reef in the background; fortunately Sandy tightened her brakes up yesterday too.

The landscape has changed a bit too... It's like Monument Valley in the US with wind eroded buttes towering above the road. 

And Gerty hit 47000 kms today so that means we have ridden 18500 together, and I love her. A cracking little bike.

I'm lying  here in my tent now and it's pitch black outside. The goats have stopped snorting but the crickets are still chattering. There is very little traffic travelling along the highway except for road trains, but the road is so straight and flat that I can hear everyone of them approaching from either direction, long before they pass. me. I must be able to hear them for a good four minutes, firstly as  a distant yet indeterminate rumble which gets louder and morphs into the distinct sound of an engine, before receeding back into a rumble as it moves away from where I am in the bush, gradually fading into the distance.

Round these parts....

Having given Gerty the day off yesterday, I took her out for a local explore today, down to Roebourne and the old gaol. And what a good call that was - thanks to Joan and Jim whom I originally met on the Eyre Peninsula, then on the Nullabor. They recommended it, and it was every bit as good as they said it was. Superfriendly staff and a really excellent display of artefacts and history in the place which only officially closed in 1984.



Reading the stuff, it seems that conditions in which aboriginal prisoners were kept were particularly harsh here, with them being shackled in neck chains to the wall at night and also chained when they worked outside the prison. Prisoners of other races were not chained. No particular reason for it is given; perhaps it was just the particular mix of settlers here who dictated the conditions. new cells were also designed to keep races and skin colour separate - asiatics, europeans and aboriginals.


But unlike other areas, the isolation on the northwest and the decision that convicts could not be used for labour above the 26th parallel - just below the Tropic of Capricorn - actually saved the local indigenous people and stopped them being wiped out as they were in other states. They were a valuable source of labour, even if they were treated barbarically. And they became very good horsemen, so useful as stockmen, despite coming from a land with no native hoofed animals.

A comment in the visitors' book made me smile though. " The Europeans weren't very educated, were they?' No of course they bloody weren't, you dweeb, being mostly chancers, absconders, convicts, plus some decent settlers, all arriving in a land with harsh conditions, no laws and a people they had no idea about. Of course they made things up to suit themselves and lord it over the aboriginals. Really, I sometimes wonder if people actually stop to think about why modern Australia exists, and how everyday things came about, right down to language and expressions. I've given up counting how many times I hear people claiming that something is a proper Australian phrase, when its clearly not and was imported along with settlers from the old world. Except for 'selfie'; I'll give them that one, although I am beginning to wonder if they actually realise how it can be interpreted. Still, makes a change from merchant banker.....

Anyway, Roebourne was the original town in the area, with Cossack - originally known as Tein Tsin - being the port. It became a thriving place, particularly when the tramway linking the wharf to the town was built, and was all based on the pearl industry with people dry shelling then wading and when Asians arrived ( mostly Japanese and Malay) they started diving. But the so called native divers were restricted by the water temperature, and it was only at the turn of the 1800s to 1900s and the advent of diving clothing, that the season was extended. But by then, Cossack was already losing out to Broome as the pearling centre.

The town today is abandoned, with only five buildings left - the courthouse, schoolhouse, police barracks and an old store. An effort has been made to mark out sites of interest but its quite odd as the info boards are in the midst of heavily weeded areas with little more than a few stones left. Its funny how the fortunes of places rise and fall according to trade and industry. It is really pronounced in Australia, perhaps because of the size or perhaps because it is so recent. There are similar patterns in Europe of course, particularly along the North Sea coasts, both in England and continental Europe, where the fortunes of a town rose and fell according to the wool industry - Boston,Kings Lynn, Norwich etc. Same I guess with the decline of the East Coast fishing fleets in places like Hull and Lowestoft.

Up early

I quite impressed myself this morning; I woke at 0530 then dozed until 0630 when I got up. The first light was just seeping through the darkness as I crawled out if the tent, checking for feral goats as I did so. But they were nowhere to be seen.

I got the tent down, packed everything up, did my daily stretches and ate breakfast, and was on the road by 0730. All against the backdrop of another beautiful sky. 

That is a record for me; usually the simpler the task, then longer it takes because I fanny about and don't get on with stuff.

 Actually. I didn't want to leave before the anyway as the ride out from where I'd camped was quite rocky and sandy and I needed to see where I was going. I nearly came a cropper on the way in last night when I slipped on some loose soil, and although I slid a few metres backwards, I stayed upright. Fortunately. 

I really need a proper site tonight though. I badly need a shower, I need to wash clothes, to charge my laptop and cameras, and to do some admin - pictures to editors, words to various places, and catch up on messages etc.

The ride northwards is a bit monotonous. It's pretty flat out here, with the odd huge hill dotted around. And some more anthills, particularly near to the Onslow turn. I had originally planned to ride there but that would mean a 120km detour and I wasnt sure whether I could get fuel. Diesel yes. But petrol? Not a risk I was going to take.

Onslow  is unusual in Australia as it as bombed in WW2. The old submarine base was the target but the place is now a quiet fishing location. It would have been interesting to see the base ruins and the old town, which is apparently being restored, but I've see so many  ww2 relic sites in my time, that the lure didnt overcome logistics. So I carried on, enjoying the cool of the morning.

I came across a caravan wreck at one point. It had happened fairly recently but not too recently. It was in a bend and looked like the van had missed the road curve and gone straight on. It's easy to do out here, get mesmerised by the stillness and emptiness and before to know it, you're off the road and in a ditch.

I played cat and mouse with a couple of pedal cyclists for a while too, tooting and waving to them  and them yelling out to me as they passed me when I stopped to take a photo or have a drink.  It must be quite an ordeal on a pushie; this place is so huge that you must feel you're on the road to nowhere at times, although I can see the attraction of the physical exertion and the mental obsession of conquering such massive mileage. Maybe I will give it ago one day.

I'm well I nto mining country up here, and great swathes of soil have been laid bare by the companies. I'm not sure if they are actually building a road or whether these tippers were just using the dirt highway to get between locations,  but it was impressive. Megatrucks,  really big vehicles, a corridor of red soil and nothing else around,

But you don't get any sense if just how big the trucks really are until you get up close.

Gerty was dwarfed but only is actual size, not might!

As well as mines, there are a few gas plants too, dotted around up here.

By now, the cool early morning had become a hot mid morning but there was nowhere shady to  to stop for a drink, so I kept going. At least the moving air regulated my temperature.

I popped into Karatha intending to find the Honda dealer for my sprockets, but it was too hot and dusty so i rode onto Roebourne.

That was even hotter and dustier so I kept going to Point Samson on the coast. 

Camping is expensive here but I needed the amenities so it had to be done. 

I love signs like this; regional winner of what? Craphole of the year? Biggest camping rip off? Most seagulls? 

But somehow I've ended up on a secluded terrace on my own, on soft grass and with my own shower and toilet. A bit of a result, and all because the usual tent spaces are taken. Yay!

Jobs day

I stayed an extra night at Hamelin as i had some jobs that I really need to do. The tail light needs changing, the chain needs sorting and the panniers need clearing out  

That took me all morning. I chucked quite a bit of stuff that I hadnt used for a while and had just been carting around. 

After that, I went back to the stromatolites and the shell quarry. It's disused now apart from blocks cut out to repair existing buildings. 

They used a cross saw and just cut blocks out of the ground. It's shells which have piled up over thousands of years. They're very small too because they leave in such an extreme environment - hyper saline and very hot. As a result, not much else can survive here and so there are no predators and the shellfish - a type of cockle - thrive. The beach is piled high with their discarded tiny white shells.

It's a pretty deserted place now but it was once a port with lighter boats that went out to ships anchored offshore in deeper water. There is an old telegraph station there as well, but it's about dilapidated although they do operate tours.

There are a couple of graves too, one of a baby who died of typhoid aged 7 months, the other an old bloke who drowned alongside his mate when their boat capsized. His mate was never found.  

So tomorrow it's onwards, up to Carnarvon. I'll probably change Gerty's chain and sprockets if I can get the bits. Will probably have to wait for them to come up from Perth though. But for now, I'm looking at the stars. It's a dark

Moonless light but the while sky is deeply sprinkled with tiny bright dots, millions of then. There must be other life out there.

Dolphin day

What a bloody excellent day I had today! Shark Bay is. World Baritage Centre anyway so it's got some pretty interesting stuff that's worth stopping to look at. I'm a bit of a nerd anyway so geological, historical or just odd stuff is right up my alley . 

Monkey MIa is the place to go to see dolphins close up. It's a bit. commercialised and set up for it as they come into the bay daily to look at humans. And there is an attached resort now but it's supposed to be a good place to see them close up.

But it's on the end of a peninsula that's a bit like a little finger sticking off the left side of AustrIalia. Steep Point is it here too - the most westerly point of the Australian mainland but 4AD only. I have been very tempted to ride out there but checking around with locals and the concensus is that the sand at the most remote end - the further end - is too deep and boggy and I would not get up the sandhills. Disappointing but particulartly in the wake of my recent medical problems, I've listened and decided that a trying solo trip out to such a remote , place would be foolhardy. So I'm not going and will leave it for another time. 

Dirk Hartog Island is out that way too. A pristine island named after a Dutchman who was the first person to land on

mainand Australia back in 1616. They've been doing a feral clean up out there - culling  rats, feral cars and foxes, all introduced creatures which have decimated native wildlife. Then they will use the place as a breeding ground for local native stuff to introduce back to the mainland.

It always makes me smile though when they go on about introduced  European species and the need to get rid if it and re establish native things ....  the whole of Australia is built on introduced Europen stuff which is why it exists. Crops, domestic animals lifestyle, culture and of course people. The irony is palpable; Australia is a land of boat people - convicts , explorers, free settlers, developers  and it continues today. But they do like to pick and choose when it comes to what - or who - belongs and what or who does not. Amusing.

But back to the dolphins. It's a long ride up there just to see some big fish.  I didn't bother with the early morning commercial business and just turned up early afternoon and went for a walk on the beach. I was on my own and immediately I saw a big shape just off the shore, about 200 m from where I'd left Gerty. A dolphin! I couldn't believe my luck. So I stood on the edge of the water and it came up to me and stuck it's head out of the water and looked at me, probably scoping what offerings I may have brought.  Then two more appeared and two more. they were just there looking at me, beautiful creatures all glistening and smooth. Fantastic. 

I expected them to disappear as soon as they realised I had nothing for them, but they staye. Then the fist one started chattng, that clicking noise that Flipper always made. Might have been swearing of shouting at me for all I knew but it was definitely aimed at me because I was the only one there . 

 But then the best bit was they started to play. The original one came right up to the shore and rolled on his back in the sand  and wriggled, rubbed his back and began chattng. Two stayed a bit further out just hovering in the water while two more swam in small circles, arching their backs and slipping in and out of the water. This went in for a few minutes before they all slipped off together out to deeper water.  

That really made my day. I've seen dolphins before but never so  close and never where they're clearly aware of me and are as interested in me as I am in them. 

Shark Bay

 I slept really well last night at Galena Bridge alongside the Murchison River. It's funny how sometimes it just works out that way. I wasnt even really tired but not even the noise of road trains thundering . along the highway kept me awake.

The moon was still around when I woke up -about 0630.

It's quite a full river and a bit muddy thanks to the recent rains and there are even patches if green green grass. Somebody told me yesterday that they've had more rain in the last month than they had on the while of last year. 

But the early morning  dew! Everything is drenched by morning no matter how well I cover it. So I now wipe stuff, shake it and hang it in the sun to dry while I potter about and pack up. But slow as I am, it's still often still wet when I pack it away.

I was on the road by 0900 this morning and it was already warm so I opened all my jacket vents. It's great to be back riding in warm weather though after the Freo wind and rain.  

Gerty started to cough and splutter as we headed towards Billabong roadhouse. It was the closest fuel stop but if I jump up and down on footrests as we  move, it generally swishes petrol from the other tank sidewell into the one with the carb tube, which coaxes another 20-30 kms out of her.  The under seat tank was still full but it saves me having to switch tanks as I can never remember the original settings. I try and keep the under seat tank as an emergency supply and work off the big one, because when that's empty, I'm usually ready for a leg stretch anyway and to take my jacket off.

So we filled up at Billabong, bought some lunch and water and then set off for Shark Bay, stopping at Hamelin Homestead.

 I meant to go to Hamelin Pool but it doesn't really matter, and it's nice here anyway; the warden supplied homemade scones and jam for high tea - for free!

There  more of those stromatolites here too - prehistoric oxygen generating lumps in the ocean. 

These survive because the water here is very salty and gets very hot, meaning that most other marine life can't survive. So these lump things get to live their lives ungrazed and untrampled and so thrive.the boardwalk stops people stomping on them too.

I walked through the bush to the place on the ocean where they are but it took ages. I had visions of getting lost in the dark on the return trip but made it back well before sundown - thankfully. But its amazing what you find out in the middle of nowhere - piles of tin cans, bottles, even furniture. 

The area is also special because it's made of billions of tiny shells, some of which have solidified into hard masses. 

Settlers discovered this and cut ready made blocks out of the ground, the size of cinder blocks. Various buildings here are built from them - even on the campsite. 

There is a quarry nearby which I might check out tomorrow.

But without a doubt, my top acheivement of today was to wash my riding pants. I wasn't able to do them in Freo because the facilities weren't that easy, but this afternoon was a milestone as they had become particularly filthy. So after much scrubbing and lathering, they are now far less filthy, although 'clean' would be pushing things a bit. Funny how such little comforts make such a difference!