It will come as no surprise to some that I took thousands of photographs on the trip to the Kimberley last year. I’m scanning those pics to find those that didn’t feature in the blog (mostly) and give them a treatment with Grungetastic. Here are seven of them, up to and including Halligan Bay at Lake Eyre.
Pelican at Innamincka
The Birdsville Pub
abandoned truck in Birdsville
barbed wire – near Birdsville
Lake Eyre Yacht Club – Marree
Halligan Bay – Lake Eyre shore
How do you capture 12 weeks and 17,000 kilometres of a trip across the Australian continent in just over 5 minutes?
Impossible I know, but here’s a shot at it accompanied by Icehouse‘s Great Southern Land.
This is the last post in the “on the road” category until we set off on the next trip on the menu – time and destination at this point unknown. (Please note – the blog will continue on other themes as usual).
As I watched the wake at the end of today’s boat trip, I started to reflect on what will be stored in the memory bank. Not in any particular order, here’s a selection for deposit.
tides writ large from the air
good coffee in out-of-the-way places
tall features in the desert
alcoholic ginger beer at Matso’s
white sand beaches
evidence of road conditions
over 17,000 kilometres
awesome aerial views
The wind was making its presence felt from the early hours of this morning on the Cape. It was enough to rule out some planned activities including a tidal boat trip out of Cygnet Bay cancelled due to the choppy waters.
We took a drive along the beach allocated to fishing.
These fellows are demonstrating what it’s like to tempt crocodiles from deeper beach waters.
On a clear day, the lighthouse stands white and proud.
The beach ride required 18 psi on the tyres (note how well I’m picking up the jargon after 8 weeks on the road). Here’s where we pumped up again.
On the way out, we noticed this small fire on the road.
Thence it was on to Cygnet Bay where the tide was rushing in over the mangroves. We checked out the pearl farm guided tour in lieu of the boat trip.
As we turned into the road coming back from Cygnet Bay, another driver coming out let us know that the camp was in lock down. This may have been the reason.
The staff were in full fire management mode before water tanks, police and fire officers arrived on the scene. A few of the campers got into the swing of things too.
This chopper hovered above just as flames were being extinguished around the lighthouse.
As I write there are still spot fires emerging and being managed as they occur. It’s handy having a UHF radio and listening in on what’s happening.
The lighthouse pic to the left is what it was like yesterday. Smoke certainly got into our eyes today.
And so to the tip of the Dampier Peninsula with sand roads for the first half and bitumen on the home stretch. For a region in winter it sure is heating up. It was still 35 degrees at 6.30 this evening.
We made tracks to the lighthouse and down to the eastern beach soon after we arrived, then across to the other side of the peninsula to absorb some more red sand moments as the sun set.
On the windows of one of the buildings at the Broome Museum, these Country Women’s Association tea towels on display also act as curtains to keep out the heat of the day.
The museum, run by the local Historical Association, contains informative displays on the pearling industry, the impacts of World War II, and the provision of critical infrastructure such as the local telephone exchange, cinemas and pubs. The social history of this multicultural town is well documented with objects, ephemera, short film and documentary screenings.
There are many stories of the influence of women in Broome, including some who continued the family business of pearling on the death of their spouse.
It’s not just scones and jam and social networks that the CWA provides to its members. This excerpt comes via Trove Australia and The West Australian of 22 October 1932, demonstrating the financial support given to the work of the Flying Doctor Service in its early days of operation across the outback.
An interesting feature of these plants is that no technical knowledge of wireless or the Morse code is required by the operators, many of whom are women residing at the stations. The plant comprises a portable pedal generator, worked by the operator’s feet — similarly to the pedals of a bicycle – ear-phones, and a transmitting keyboard resembling that of a typewriter. If the operator desires to summon the flying doctor or to ask his advice on a medical problem she merely taps out her message on to the lettered toy board, and it is automatically translated into morse by a cam device on the instrument. The transmitters are designed to work on medium or short waves, so that if the message fails to get through on one wave, it can be transmitted on another. The doctors reply to the message is sent out by radio phone from Cloncurry by means of an engine-driven transmitter, and picked up on the earphones by the operator at the station. The amateur operators of the outposts keep in practice by sending everyday messages as well as calls for medical aid, and last year over 3,000 radiograms were handled in this way. Each outpost is communicated with daily, but in addition emergency calls can be put through to the watchers at the Cloncurry base at certain specified hours. The installation land maintenance costs of the wireless plants are contributed to by the station owners, although special concessions have been made in deserving cases. A number of plants have been provided by the CountryWomen’s Association where backblock dwellers were in financial difficulties.