Irwin River, Dongara, paradise for water birds.
We headed south this morning, Camel and I, along the coast road into the teeth of a gale. Oh, it was sunny enough when we left Geraldton at 10am, but quite suddenly the clouds appeared from nowhere and looked awfully threatening. Camel returned a steady 8.0 litres per 100 kms. I’m sure these figures have something to do with fuel quality and octane rating because we had a headwind and we were travelling at the limit of 110kms/hr. I must mention here how good the roads are. The only pot-holes have been on back-streets and dirt-roads.
Following signs to Eneabba (doesn’t that sound like a medical condition?) the first stop was Dongara, where the Irwin River flows out to the sea. A squadron of pelicans put on a wonderful flypast before landing on the river among cormorants and moorhens… or coots, I never can remember which are which.
All the fishing boats had intriguing names, but “Desperate Measures” must surely take the prize.
All the coastal towns – Leeman, Jurien Bay, etc. – have harbours with boat ramps. There’s something about these places that is quite irresistible. There’s always something going on and, though I don’t have a nautical bone in my body, I can happily while away an indefinite length of time just watching the activity.
The rain started very suddenly. Borne on such a howling gale, it came at us horizontally. The wipers couldn’t cope, even on high-speed, and it hit the windscreen so hard it sounded as though we were being pelted with gravel.
Druids and Dwarfs…
Druids and dwarfs. Were they moving towards me? I couldn’t be sure which way they were going, but they were definitely moving. These are the Pinnacles, inhabitants of the Pinnacles Desert. If I kept very still and watched them carefully, I’m sure they changed position. With the wind whistling and shifting great swathes of coarse sand it was very eerie… and were they chanting?
The Pinnacles Desert, Nambung National Park.
Of course, it’s all down to erosion, but you have to admit they’re splendid figures. Some are very tall, towering at over 7 or 8 feet high.
Some are about 7 or 8 feet tall.
I backtracked a few kilometres to Cervantes, to the motel, where I was in for a very noisy night. The wind howled, the windows rattled and showers of rain hurled themselves at the door and windows all night. Tomorrow Camel and I are Fremantle bound, into the teeth of this gale. The weather report on the ABC promises no improvement for several days.