Most of the packing had been done the evening prior, so all that remained was to have a cup of coffee, wind up the legs of the van and hook the car up. We were on our way by 7:30 AM (no point in leaving too soon as we wanted to pick up a few things from the shops at Exmouth.) and the drive up the west side of the Cape, around the tip and back down to Exmouth was completed in what seemed like a blink of the eye. It was a nice change to have a temperature in the twenties showing on the car's thermometer!
For those whom have not been to Exmouth, there are two supermarkets in the main shopping precinct, both within sight of each other, both members of the IGA chain and both with comparable prices, so it matters not where you choose to shop. We purchased a small gas stove, the type that uses those disposable canisters of gas, having found out that the one that we had brought with us was in no mood to comply with our wishes to cook food. (Cooking a Laksa inside the van was not ideal as the smell can be very hard to get rid of.)
Stores purchased and stowed, we stood under the shade of some trees near where we parked the rig and had our breakfast, before heading south to the turn-off to Warra. The road south from Exmouth, though bitumised, has its moments. It is quite narrow and bumpy in places and when towing a van I didn't relish the sight of oncoming trucks or other caravan rigs coming toward us. In one place we did have a minor slip off the road with the left-hand caravan wheels, but the rig maintained its line and pulled back onto the bitumen without too much of a fuss.
There are two turn-offs into Warra. We would be taking the north-most turn-off, but for those coming from the south, I would recommend that you take the north-most turn-off anyway. From the north you need only to traverse 12 Km of crappy, corrugated, gravel surface. If choosing the southern approach, you have 38 Km of crappy, gravel surface. So, even though coming from the south is shorter if you take that route, it is worth staying on the bitumen and going in from the north - you will save time and endure less discomfort, not to mention reducing the wear and tear on your transport.
When I say that the road is crappy, the first six Km was really quite bad, taking nearly 30 minutes to cover. The remaining six Km was better, but still corrugated and required us to drive on the wrong side of the track in places, just to avoid the shaking that comes with corrugated roads. Seeing the ocean again was a welcome sight, even if the low-light of seeing the Warra rubbish tip had to also be endured before reaching our destination. There are no rubbish bins at Warra, but there is the communal tip (which also has a dump point.) Speaking of dump-points, you cannot stay at Warra unless you have a chemical toilet.
When you arrive at Warra, the reddish gravel track gives way to stark, white sand right at the Caretaker's residence. Don't be alarmed, the beach sand is firm enough to drive vehicle and van on without trouble.
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| Taken at dawn, this shot shows how firm the sand tracks are at Warra. |
We took a walk to the south, where the camps were a little less exposed to the elements and chose a site that was large enough for our rig and reasonably level. Reversing the rig was a cinch, given that we had the entire beach in front of us on which to manoeuvre the vehicle, and soon enough we were set up. Our site was nestled in a scalloped out area between some small sand dunes which had a sparse, but effective wind-break of coastal salt bush. The view from under our awning was unimpeded by anything, giving us about a 160 degree sweep of the seashore, out to the breaking waves of the Ningaloo Reef.
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| The sites are very "natural", being little more than indents in the dunes. Notice how I was forced to use the "banjo" to dig a hole for the right-hand side wheels to sit in, in order to level the caravan. The back of the van is also sitting on the dirt. |
It was after setting up the camp that I realised that I had forgotten to disconnect the caravan and vehicle power connection on the way down from Exmouth (as I had intended to do.) In a state of panic, I opened the boot and quickly cycled through the solar charger settings to see what the maximum voltage had got to. While being a great source of power, Lithium batteries are very intolerant of voltages outside their operating range. To my relief, the voltage had gone no higher than 13.9 Volts, still 0.2 Volts under the maximum that I have set the Solar Charger for. No harm done!
We had some lunch and I went for a wander along the beach, chatting to other campers and asking questions about the fishing in the area. (Sue calls me the "Caravan Park Pest".) Many of the folks at Warra had been there for some time. They were enjoying the unusually wind-free conditions and had taken advantage of this to do plenty of fishing. Catches were mixed and, from what I could gather, related mainly to the experience of the fisher, rather than to what was actually available.
I also spent some time talking to Ross and was surprised to learn that a former work colleague (who shall be known simply as "Stewie") was the caretaker at the next campsite to the south, a place called Sandy Bay. From Ross' camp I took a wander up to the camps to the north. ("Dalkeith" as Ross called it, named after an exclusive Perth suburb.) These folks set themselves up for the long-haul, having a plethora of tents, shades, shade cloth fences to stop the windswept sand, solar panels, generators, fridges and freezers and an array of boats and kayaks. They were also a lot less inclined to have a chat than were the "southerners".
We spent the first afternoon relaxing, reading and, in my case, setting up my fishing gear and the kayak in preparation for the next day. We contemplated a swim, but the water was very clouded with a whitish suspension of fine sand particles, making visibility difficult. With the knowledge that a woman was bitten by a shark at Warra a couple of years earlier, we decided to hold off having a swim until the water cleared.
We enjoyed a BBQ'd steak and salad for dinner and watched the Sun set over the reef before getting an early night. The thing I noticed most about the following dawn was the absence of bird calls. We had seen some honeyeaters the previous day, but clearly they were elsewhere in the morning. I fluffed around a bit too long making final preparations to go fishing in the kayak, something that would have consequences later. I hit the water about 8:00 o'clock and paddled toward the reef, looking for patches of ground that were similar to where I had learnt my new fishing technique at Ned's Camp.
Unfortunately, the signs I were looking for were not not there and the Spangled Emperor I did catch were small and were returned to the sea. Eventually I decided to paddle to the Ningaloo Reef itself, but I had left my run too late and the incoming tide was so strong that I could not make any headway, so I paddled over to some weed patches and was able to catch a few small squid. The squid were a perfect size for bait and I stowed them away for the next day. I had learnt a couple of lessons about conditions at Warra and resolved to get on the water a lot earlier the next day.
I made my way back to shore and stowed the kayak and fishing gear before wandering back to the van and enjoying breakfast. Sue had been for a long walk and was able to fill me in on the other camping grounds in the area. This place was set up for the winter throng of grey nomads and appeared to be cable of accommodating at least 100 rigs, albeit with only 30 or so on the waterfront. As the day progressed a smattering of clouds began to fill the sky, but without the benefit of a forecast we did not know what the future held. We were to find out soon enough, and it was a blessing. Meantime, one of the other "southerners", Duncan, had invited me to go fishing with him in his dinghy the following day.
The following morning dawned almost completely overcast. Conditions at sea were still completely calm, which was just as well because Duncan's dinghy was little more than a flat-bottomed punt with very short sides and bugger-all freeboard once loaded with us and our gear. We rolled the boat down the beach and into the water where, after more yanks on the starter cord than I would have preferred, the engine roared into life and we were on our way. We headed straight for the fringing reef, hoping to get amongst the Spangled Emperor that we knew would be hiding there, but in what was perhaps an omen, Duncan noticed that he had forgotten his tacklebox in his hurry to get going. I was starting to wonder about Duncan because he has also left Perth without his life-jackets and we were using those from my kayak!
I had enough tackle for us both and we kept going. Even though the fringing reef breaks up the waves and creates a calm surface inside the reef, the boiling surf and thunderous crashing of the waves, along with the current that the waves produced, had me a little concerned. Before we even got within 100 metres of where we needed to be it was evident that the seas were too rough for the tiny boat we were in and we erred on the side of caution, turning back toward the shore. We made for a rocky outcrop and dropped anchor a couple of hundred metres from the headland. The bottom consisted of patchy weed and intermittent rocks, not ideal for Emperor, but likely ground for squid.
I caught several small Cod, known colloquially as "Charlie Courts" (after the WA Premier from the '70s, who was regarded by all to have a "big mouth") before Duncan spotted a few squid near the rear of the boat. A quick change of rig brought instant results and before long the small vessel was being liberally coated with squid ink. Unfortunately, the other squid were very skittish and after seeing their mate get captured, they all disappeared into the shadows, never to reappear.
We fished for a while longer without luck and although the conditions were almost completely calm, Duncan announced that he was feeling a bit green around the gills and we made our way back to the beach - Tally: 1 squid (although it was a honker!) Perhaps things would pick up tomorrow?
Lunch was, naturally, freshly cooked squid rings - yumm! The afternoon was spent lolling around reading and preparing tackle for the next day. Sue went for a long walk and came back to report that she was completely snubbed at "Dalkeith". The weather was very overcast and we were at about 73% of our battery capacity by dusk. We slept soundly that night, with the only sounds to be heard being the crickets chirruping and my legendary snoring.
Duncan and I had learnt a lesson about the sea conditions the previous day and so it was that we were on the water bright and early. We made straight for the outer reef and, although a little choppier than we expected, we were able to wet a line. Duncan chose to use bait and I used soft plastic lures, which turned out to be a good choice with the first Spangly coming over the side within minutes. There was no need to break out the measure because this fish was obviously well above the legal minimum for the species. In quick succession two legal sized Red Throat Emperor were caught, then several small Cod which were returned to the water and finally another Red Throat came over the side before we decided to call it a day.
Duncan was not a confident skipper and the fact that we realised (once we were out there) that we hadn't put the kayak life jackets in the boat, meant that we had to be happy with what we had caught and return to shore. Poor old Dunc hadn't caught a keeper, but I gave him a couple of the Red Throats and kept the Spangly and a Red Throat for myself.
All this time we had still not been exposed to the famous west coast sea breeze and were grateful for it, but the downside was the heavy cloud cover. The batteries were down to 56% of capacity by the time that we got back from fishing - not enough to start rationing power, but getting a bit worrying. Duncan has a small generator and offered us the use of it while he and his Wife went to Coral Bay for some stores. Even though we were going to move on the next day and would be able to use the car to charge the batteries, I accepted his offer and three hours later the batteries were full to the brim.
About mid afternoon we started getting some sporadic rain showers. The rain wasn't heavy but it was starting to wash the dust from the van and car. By about 5:00 PM the showers had merged together to become constant rain. I let about half an hour of rain pour off of the awning, before commencing to capture the water in whatever we had at hand. After filling up a 30 litre esky, two 20 litre buckets and a five litre water bottle, I decided to pump the captured water into our under-van tanks. I filled the general purpose tanks first, then the drinking water tank (ensuring that the water was the cleanest of all because all of the dirt and dust had well and truly washed off the awning by then.)
By the time the rain had eased we had full tanks all-round and about 60 litres in various containers. We no longer had to leave Warra due to water storage, nor because of power, thanks to Duncan's generator. It took no discussion to decide to stay on and the next morning I wandered over to Ross' camp to pay for three more days.
Later that day I had to do the most feared job of all when caravaning - empty the toilet cassette. As much as I try, I have never been able to convince Sue that this is also a pink job and is not strictly a blue job as she seemed to think - to no avail because she has never volunteered for the task. I drove to the tip/dump point and did the dastardly deed and was on my return journey when I noticed a vehicle in the rear-view mirror. It took a little while but I eventually recognised Stewie at the wheel. I stopped my car and got out, only to see Stewie veer around me and drive on. His window was down, so I yelled his name as loudly as I could. The brake lights came on, followed by reversing lights and Stewie was soon beside me.
Stewie got out of his vehicle clutching a UDL can of some sort of alcoholic bevvy and stared at me for a while. I took my sunglasses off and the expression on Stewie's face changed from one of puzzlement to one of happiness as recognition finally dawned on him. We shook hands and had a good old chin wag for quite some time. Since I had last seen Stewie he had become a member of the Royal Flying Doctor customer lounge (he was using the service so often.)
He had: Dropped the "A" frame of his off-road caravan onto his foot and crushed his big toe so badly that it required amputation; Got bitten by a Western Brown snake as he tried to shoo it away from his pet goat; Oiled himself up with coconut oil (instead of using sunscreen) and got first degree burns all over his upper torso, the front side of his arms and legs and his feet! He has got new skin there now, but he can't expose it to the Sun at all, so he wears some long trousers cut-off well below the knee and long-sleeve shirts. His hat is one of those sombreros about a metre in diameter.
To say that Stewie is eccentric would be an understatement. He lives alone (aside from the goat and a pet sheep for company) at the Sandy Bay camp on Warra, having only the occasional visit from friends and the company of tourists to keep him abreast of what's happening in the World. He visits Ross at the 14 Mile Camp (where we stayed) and Ross has taken to calling Stewie "Captain One-Way" because Stewie sails his kayak up to visit Ross but then is either too drunk to sail it back or too tired or the wind is against him. Ross is left to take Stewie home again after the social visit. Stewie and I parted but he promised to catch up with us the next day at our camp.
Sue and I rounded out the day with a feed of fresh fish and the last of our salads. We had been eating our fresh produce on the premise that we would be in Carnarvon the next day, and certainly hadn't banked on getting the rainwater for our tanks. We retired early and this time we didn't even have crickets to serenade us - the rain must have washed them away.
Next morning I got up early and took off in the kayak, heading straight for the outer reef before the tide and currents made it too difficult to be safe. Half an hour later I dropped the anchor at what seemed a likely spot and cast a soft-plastic lure next to a rocky formation (bommie). Within minutes I had hauled in several small Cod, releasing them all, but it wasn't before having a bit of a scare. With the anchor out and what little breeze there was, I found myself side-on to the current. The kayak bucked underneath me, quite violently a couple of times, and I was forced to pull up the anchor and drift-fish.
The problem with drifting is that I was only able to get one cast in before being swept a long distance by the current. This necessitated a fairly strenuous paddle back to the "likely spot" before I was able to cast again and start the entire process over again. I got monstered on one occasion, losing my rig to the sharp coral as the fish sought protection. It must have been a big fish as I was unable to slow its progress at all.
I was starting to tire, literally and mentally, of this constant paddling and was delighted when, after losing several rigs and catching only small Cod, I hooked and landed a very respectable Red Throat Emperor. Having tasted success, I was only too happy to return to shore and was quite grateful for the following tide and breeze that made the paddle back an easy task.
I cleaned the fish before cleaning the kayak and fishing gear, satisfied with my efforts and not really requiring any more fish for the remainder of our stay. Sue and I try our hardest not to freeze fish, preferring it fresh, and had enough vacuum-sealed portions of fish in the 'fridge to last us for a while. After that I had a very late breakfast, just managing to finish it before Stewie rocked up, bottle of Gin under his arm, a schooner glass and a bottle of soda water in his hands. The tide on the Gin bottle was about halfway out and the soda water looked pretty warm....
Stewie gave Sue a hug and I watched as she squirmed. He was lathered in sweat and still had the same clothes on that I had seen him in the day before! Pleasantries dispensed with, we all sat down and spent many hours whiling away the time with conversations about times gone by - former lifetimes, if you like. Stewie knocked off the rest of the Gin and from his snippets of conversation, it was clear that he spent the lion's share of his time in a state of inebriation, although he was as sharp as a tack when it came to remembering details.
It must have been at least three hours before Stewie bade us farewell and drove the 60 or so metres to Ross' camp. We didn't see him again that day but were to catch up with him the next day (New Year's day.)
We spent New Year's Eve having a couple of quiet drinks, enjoying the sunset that was made all the more spectacular by the cloud cover that still persisted, and captured a bit more rainwater from the very few showers that continued into the evening. Although there is not an abundance of wildlife at Warra, we were able to observe some 'roos, a variety of sea birds, some small hawks (I think they may have been Gosshawks, but it was difficult to tell, they didn't approach too closely) and we had a lot of fun watching the little Tata Lizards.
Tata Lizards are named (colloquially) because of their habit of coming to an abrupt halt, then lifting one or the other of their fore-legs and waving it in the air - as though waving you goodbye.) They are around in large numbers at Warra and it would seem that their diet is made up almost completely of bush flies. They are very athletic and I witnessed one jumping vertically, the full length of its body, and snap a passing fly out of mid-air. Ross told me that after the lizards got used to him being around, they would climb up his legs and catch any flies that landed on him!
We had one of our usual New Year celebrations - in bed and out to the World by 9:00 PM! The crew at Ross' camp, numbers swollen by the arrival of his Son and his family, may have partied on but we never heard a thing.
New Year's Day started in bright sunshine, a pleasant change from the previous days, but also heralded the start of the dreaded sea breeze. It was little more than a puff at dawn but had become quite strong by midday. Most of the campers at Warra took advantage of the warm, sunny, morning and were dotted up and down the shoreline, swimming in groups, but by lunch time the beach was deserted as everyone sought refuge from the wind. We spent some time having a quiet drink with Ross' mob and Stewie, before heading for shelter late in the afternoon.
I packed away as much stuff as I could that evening, ready for our departure for Carnarvon the next morning. We had a BBQ in the wind later that evening and then sought the shelter of our van for the night. During the first few days of our stay we had Internet access via the mobile phone tower at Coral Bay, but it seemed that the ferocious sea breeze was actually able to blow the signals back up the beach, because we weren't able to get through that night. Never mind. We had just had the longest stretch of sea breeze-less days that I can ever remember - 10 days.
Next morning we did our usual trick of quietly packing away the last few items, downing a freshly brewed coffee and heading off to our next destination, Carnarvon. I took a couple of quick photos, something that I had completely forgotten to do in the previous six days, and we were on our way by 6:30 AM. Not surprisingly, Big Ross was awake and he gave us a wave as we turned off the white sand of the beach, onto the rusty, red, soil that marked the start of the twelve kilometres of corrugated crap road.
Next issue....."The Loo with a View"
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