In, and out, of Port Hedland

We arrive in the red-iron-ore-dust-coated town of Port Hedland in the late afternoon. Just enough daylight left to see the massive rail effort in place to move iron ore into town for export, witness a loaded supertanker heading out to sea (with eight more queued up behind it), and visit the infamous detention centre. In Port Hedland we truly feel the heartbeat of the Australian economy pulsing.
Yet, back at our caravan park it is stinking hot, overcrowded with transient workers (accomodation shortage being a major issue) and the toilet block is made up of port-a-loos. We leave the next morning. Early. Without even eating breakfast.

Outside the Port Hedland detention centre. Sorry, that's EX-detention centre. Outside the newly branded Port Hedland Beachfront Village. Unbelievable!

Railway crossing at Port Hedland. We count every one of the 116 (!!!) carriages loaded with 260 tonnes of iron ore.

More Karratha moments

Thank you again Nana and Grandpa for four days of fun!

Benji sharing a joke over a beer.

Sorting through seeds and shells after a beach picnic.

"Come in nana - Over!" After an animated conversation with nana, travelling in the car behind us, Rikki passes the walkie talkie to Benji, who promptly puts it up to his ear and then can't understand why he can't get a reply. Rikki soon sets him straight.

Family Fun in Karratha

Budge’s folks join us in Karratha and after four days together, we still can’t agree on who enjoyed the visit the most – the kids, the parents or the grandparents. What we can agree on, with absolute certainty, is that we milked every moment.
* Mealtime smorgaboards – eating in, eating out and eating on the road.
* Walkie-talkie conversations as we drove in convoy.
* Totem tennis, bocce and card game contests – including a very special round of UNO with Jack and the grown ups late one night after his siblings fall asleep in the car at 5pm on the drive home from a long day of sightseeing and transfer to their beds to sleep through until morning (henceforth known as the great 14 hour sleep-a-thon).
* A spot of fishing at Karratha Backbeach and a spot of shopping at Karratha Centro (no points for guessing where the kids land the bigger catch).
* Bedtime stories, shell collecting and string puppetry with nana... AND a nana movie night.
* All local tourist sites explored… Cossack, Point Samson, Roebourne, and the enormous North West Shelf gas plant and nearby salt mine.
Nana Jenny and Grandpa Emmery leave us laden with gifts, messages from home, and a rather spiffy set of personalised tee-shirts. It is hard to say goodbye and the time comes all too soon.

The kids are captivated as Nana Jenny unpacks the goodie bag sent by Auntie Loo, Uncle Pin and cousins Jemima, Marcus and Elliot. Hard to feel more loved than we do!

All smiles as we share another meal together in the caravan annexe. A fine spread indeed.

Locking up the rascals in a prison cell at the historical town of Cossack. Not that their behaviour warranted it, what with nana and grandpa in town!

Rikki fishing with Grandpa. The conditions and location are less than optimal, but there is no way that we are going to let Grandpa leave without giving it a red hot go!

Exmouth

We stay in Exmouth for three days. We see a shipwreck, a lighthouse, a turtle discovery centre... we notch up some walks and playground fun... Sam makes it to a yoga class but is stood up by the instructor... and we opt for an ensuite site that lets us scrub every bit of Ningaloo sand and dust from our bodies and hair. Luxury!!

Impromptu "Tag" around the lighthouse at Exmouth.

A picture.. a thousand words.

Rikki's drawing of OUR car (with box on the roof) towing OUR caravan. Drawn on our last day at Ningaloo Station. In dry mud. With a stick. We love it.

Ningaloo Station

One week at Ningaloo Station, our most isolated independant camping experience thus far. Accessing this pocket of paradise is no small feat: a 50km dirt road so corrugated it takes us four hours - FOUR hours! - to drive down, dodging sheep and goats the whole way. The other (long termer) campers stick to themselves and it feels like the place is ours alone, a great stretch of private Ninagloo reef filled with fish that jump, turtles, stingrays, dolphins... but alas, still no whales.

Seven straight days of intense Bihary bonding has its moments and for the most part, they are marvellous.

* Rikki composing songs whilst accompanied by Budge on guitar.

* Jack creating 3D face masks using scrap paper and pipecleaners.

* Jack giving Benji a wedgie so high that his bathers scrape his chin. Sadly they never snap back into shape and he wears them rolled down over around his waist after that.

* Sam discovering a love of Roald Dahl and an astonishing repertoire of voices to use during "Everyone All Together On The Bed" storytime. (Accents notwithstanding, Benji still manages to fall asleep during "Matilda", mid chapter, mid afternoon, seated in the middle.)

* Retrieving and recycling every last board game, card game, craft project, outdoor games set and comic book in our collection, yet still never quite silencing the perpetual sound of the multi-syllable "da-aaa-aaa-aad, what can we dooooooo?"

* Catching the big toothed, long snouted Longtoms on our lines (not enough flesh to keep for eating, however)... then watching "Finding Nemo" one night and realising that Nemo's mum and siblings had been eaten at the start of the movie by one and the same.

* Stripping down to undies for a (self conscious at the start but not for long) swim one late afternoon after a soccar ball retrieval goes wrong... (the kids that is). Though none of us ever quite get the courage to take a full-on skinny dip, despite the beach being deserted bar ourselves the whole time we are here.

* Budge giving new meaning to the words "naive" and "optimism" when he attempts to institute an afternoon Siesta ritual (anyone not wanting to sleep to play in silence). Day 1 siesta lasts 25 minutes. Day 2 siesta lasts 15 minutes. There is no Day 3 siesta.

In Ningaloo there is a neverending swing between silence and noise, solitude and togetherness, stillness and chaos. We leave older. We leave younger.

Quote of the stay: Jack asks Sam if he can be served lunch before everyone else returns from the beach, to which she responds "Why would I do that - are you part of the royal family? Should I call you "Your Majesty"? "Your Highness"? To which Jack replies: "Yep. Your Hungry-ness"

Spotting sealife at the end of the day on what we called, from the outset, BIHARY BEACH.

The gang ready to do some fish filleting. Jack holds the giant snapper, a gift from our camping neighbours, who caught it whilst out on their boat. Benji holds the mulloway still on ice from Carnarvon. (Benji and Rikki were back at the caravan when the snapper gift was brought over to us on the beach whilst we were fishing, so when they returned we told them Jack had just caught it himself... Benji's response "Oh Moi Gawd". Rikki's response"Where's my rod? What bait did you use? Can you cast my line out? I want to fish - NOW!" It was only when Rikki started to get impatient after 2 minutes of not landing a huge bite herself that we broke it to them both gently. There was nothing gentle about either of the looks they shot us back.)

Rikki in her tent creation, which is a far more complicated balancing act than first impressions would suggest, the result of much hard work, and a source of great pride.

Man. In a hat. At peace.

Coral Bay and its all important playground

There is a choice of two caravan parks in Coral Bay. By choosing the one with the playground, we are forced to make do with a non-powered site for the first night, then pack up the next morning, hitch up, check out, park outside, wait 2 hours, then check back in again, unhitch, unpack, to get a powered site for the second night. (All important since our next stop is the bush for at least a week and we need time to charge up our many devices...)

But the effort is worth it to see the kids frolic on the monkey bars and swings. So frolic they must. Continuously. No arguments about it. When? Now! Why? Don't argue! Yes, at Coral Bay all three Bihary offspring are on strictly enforced playground duty 24-7 unless we head to the beach.

Which is, of course, the only other thing to do around here and its a good thing at that! The weather is hot, the water sublime, the coral in reach, and the fish friendly. We snorkel, we swim and we hitch a ride on a glass-bottom boat. Budge and Jack prove themselves to be the snorkle kings, with Rikki still somewhat apprehensive (prefering to piggyback on daddy rather than go the full submerge) and Benji happiest cavorting back on the sand. Then, as rains sweep in, we hustle up our playground prisoners and move on.

Crossing the Tropic of Capricorn en route to Coral Bay, with our own Capricorn Budge (DOB Jan 16) marking the spot. When explaining to the kids that the other Tropic on the globe is Cancer, we realise that's Sam's starsign (DOB July 21), which makes the Samantha and Darren union even more special.... Until now, we only had the Bewitched reference to giggle over.

Wading through the shallows to board our boat ride, the fish around our ankles. It goes without saying that the views beneath the sea when snorkeling were FAR more impressive than anything that can be conveyed here, but without an underwater camera we'll need to commit those to memory.  

Peering down in the glass bottom boat, elegant toes of Rikki and Sam in the foreground, shaggy heads of Benji and Jack (alongside dad) across the way. Another glimpse of the underwater wonderland - but again, a poor cousin to snorkelling it oneself.

Carnarvon Oasis

Springing up from within the dry dusty outback is Carnarvon, a lush oasis of tropical plants and fruit and vegetable plantations on the banks of the underground Gascoyne River. During our three days here we tour one (and learn the ins and outs of growing bananas, grapes and mangoes), shop our way through a few more, invest in a juicer (but of course!), and sample all manner of frozen and dehydrated organic delights. With temps in the high 20s, there's also time for a spot of swimming back at the caravan park, some fishing (with success), and an opportunity to unpack our mattresses, pillows, sheets and doonas and give them a well-earned airing. We leave a little more tanned, a little more sated and with a fridge filled to capacity with frozen mango.

Another terribly long jetty but this one at least delivers... Budge reels in a mulloway big enough to keep. Rikki is so proud of her dad she sprints ahead with fish in bucket in hand - regaling every passer by with news of our catch.

A buncha monkeys with a buncha bananas. (Interestingly each tree produces just one bunch.)

Choc covered frozen bananas. Almost as good as the choc covered frozen strawbs. Or the dehydrated banana straps. Or the sundried mango. Or the mango icecream popsicles. So much fruit... and luckily, so much time.  

Shells, Surf and Spa

Another Shark Bay highlight is Shell Beach, an expansive beach comprised of tiny white coquina shells instead of sand. We make shell castles, we write our names in the shells, and we find out that whilst shells don’t get in the eyes like sand does, they are pretty adept at getting into one’s undies. It’s then onto Nanga Bay overnight. Just enough time for some beach surfing and another hot spa (though nowhere near the fabulous 40 degrees).

Shell Beach Shenanigans.

More Shell Beach Shenanigans.

Down at Nanga Beach... and we can't resist the opportunity to write our names in the sand, again, in shells.

Jack asks to race our car back to the caravan park at Nanga Bay. He's not bluffing either. Testosterone alert!

Morning at Monkey Mia

We’re not accustomed to setting an alarm but set one we do – and for 7am no less – to ensure we’re on the beach at Monkey Mia by 7:45 for the first dolphin feeding of the day. We need not have hurried, because these days the dolphins are temperamental and we wait until about 8:45 before six of them grace us with their presence. It is, however, well worth the wait. As we stand knee deep in water, they swim back and forth past our legs, so close we could touch them (but this is, of course, not allowed). Then comes time for the keepers to feed them, and our kids are chosen from the crowd to help. Naches, again. You betcha.

Lined up to greet the dolphins. Indianna Budge is asplendant in his new leather hat.

The sight of friendly fins approaching. 

Real live dolphins. So - so - so - so very close.

Brekkie time with three excited assistants.

Hot Tubs n’ Hot Dogs in Denham

Our caravan is back, our spirits are high and Shark Bay beckons. First stop, Denham – the western most town in Australia, neighbour to the famous Monkey Mia and with some charming treasures all of its own. At the Ocean Park Acquarium we have a guided tour of the tanks filled with rays, sharks, squid, turtles and fish of all shapes, colours and sizes – we watch them being hand fed and bombard the guide with our questions. At Eagle Bluff we follow the boardwalk out over the water to spot the same sea creatures in the wild – but one lonesome stingray and a few shy dolphins is the best we can do. At the Peron Homestead we are captivated by the preserved shearing shed, shearer’s quarters and stockyards: re-living life on a sheep station a century ago. Most exhilarating of all is the Peron Homestead artesian bore hot tub – forty fabulous degrees and the bath we have all been waiting for. Lightheadedness be damned, we stay immersed for ages, before shuffling our bright pink, wrinkled little bodies across to the BBQ for a hot dog picnic. Heaven.

Budge cracks everyone up as he demonstrates how to shear a sheep in the Peron Homestead shearing shed, using our own three little lambs.

Feeding the sharks at Ocean Park Acquarium.

Hot Tub Heaven.

Hanging out with Princess Shirley

Heading back to Geraldton we leave Australia, travel to a foreign land, then return to our shores again. All in the space of one and three quarter hours. Hutt River Province is a legal quirk, a farmstead that ceded from Australia in the early 1970s to avoid a tricky taxation scheme, and now stands alone as a completely independent, self-sufficient principality. Everything about the place is surreal, from the story of its creation to its currency and postage stamps to its living royal family. It is a hoot and we soak it up, even if the kids are disappointed that Princess Shirley is not wearing her tiara on the day we visit.

Copping a wink with Prince Leonard.

Having our photo taken with Princess Shirley. The kids are excited about that, but even more excited about the cans of Creamy Soda that they have been allowed to buy. After all, you can't visit a foreign land without partaking in some local food that you're not allowed to have back home.

Budge deep in conversation with her royal highness Princess Shirley, after we complete our tour of the Principality, including post office, chapel and souvenir shop. The official flag of Hutt River flies at full mast.

The Amazing Jam Sandwich

From about the 2km mark on the Murchison River Gorge hike, Jack let us know he was hungry. Then he started talking about all the foods he wished he could eat. Then he started looking for any sort of food along the trail. THEN he found a jam sandwich. None of us believed him, we were too exhausted to even turn around to look – but he insisted… and blow us down, he was holding a rock that had us all fooled. Yes indeed, you CAN manifest anything with your mind.

Our hardest hike, ever!

The hike around the Murchison River Gorge in Kalbarri National Park is 8 kilometres long. It winds across steep cliff tops, before descending into the valley, weaving alongside the river then ascending up again. There is next to no shade, lots of scrambling, and great chunks of trail that appear too steep/ slippery/ dodgy/ dangerous were it not the for marker up ahead signalling “yes, this IS the right way”. For reasons that still elude us, we embarked on the walk rather casually, packing minimal food, avoiding any pep talk preamble and fully expecting to knock it off in a few hours and head back for an afternoon of canoeing.
Lessons. Lessons. Lessons.
The important thing is, we completed it. It took its pound of flesh and will henceforth be the benchmark for any future hikes – overtaking our previous best, Bluff Knoll. Needless to say, canoeing did not get a look see that afternoon.

The gang, gung ho, about to set off.

Peering into the Gorge through "Nature's Window".

Deep in the Gorge. Four Biharys and an impressive anthill.

Alongside the Murchison River. We're about 3km into the hike and its only a short time later that Benji waves the white flag and climbs aboard Budge's shoulders, where he remains for the subsequent 5km.

Holiday time in Kalbarri

Kalbarri is about 2 hours from Geraldton and about 2 (wonderful) degrees warmer… we are surrounded by tropical palms, staying in a cabin and it completely feels as though we are on a holiday. And it’s an eventful holiday at that.
• When fishing off the pier Benji manages to get a bite. Unfortunately it happens when we reel in a fish too small to keep, and Benji picks it up to toss it back in – only to have it bite him, hard, on the hand.
• Leaving her challah dough to rise in the sun, Sam gets it to rise to almost triple its size, the best result to date. Sadly her efforts are in vain because it is only then that we discover our cabin, in fact, has no oven to speak of. (Subsequent attempts to boil the challah along with some bagels are a resounding failure).
• Budge outdoes himself in the kitchen not once but twice – firstly by converting 4 chicken thighs into a staggering 49 nuggets, then by turning a simple broccoli and rice dish into a stirfry masterpiece that convinces the kids that they CAN enjoy a meal that is meatless AND includes onion.
• Budge outdoes himself again when we decide on a whim to drive onto a beach for a spot of R&R… and promptly find ourselves bogged. So it’s R&R for everyone except our man of the moment, who instead gets busy letting the tyres down, driving the car out to firmer ground, then pumping each tyre up all over again. No rest for the wicked…
• No sunbaked holiday is complete without the obligatory “non-stop-rain-for-the-entire-day” day and ours comes on our forth day in town. But with the novelty and spaciousness of two bedrooms plus living area available, sleeping bags on hand to prompt all sorts of play ideas, and the saving grace of a laptop well stocked with downloaded movies - nothing is going to rain on our parade!
• Our daily drives and walks along the coast take us to countless lookouts with superb panoramas atop sea cliffs layered with the famous Tumblagooda sandstone (“remember kids, that’s tumbler like rolling on the ground and gouda like the cheese”). Emboldened and inspired, we tackle the gorge walk in Kalbarri National Park – 8 kilometres long and pitched as a 3 hour exercise. We complete it in just under five. It is without question the most gruelling thing we have done to date.
All holidays must come to an end so we swap shorts for pants and dig out our hoodies. It is high time we collected our beloved and much missed caravan.

Plenty of time to play while daddy unbogs the car.

Amazingly our bogging on the beach happens at the mouth of the Whitecarra Creek, site of what is believed to be the first permanant landing of white men in Australia in 1629 - castaways from the Batavia shipwreck (our all time favourite seafaring tale).   

Sprinting off on the Mushroom Rock coastal trail. The kids grizzle about going but concede quickly that it's a beauty, what with crab spotting and lots and lots of scrambling. In hindsight, it's their enthusiam on this walk (1.5km) that encourages us to tackle the National Park Gorge walk (8km).  Hmm, the logic stacked up at the time.

B-Man at the Z-Bend lookout.

Gigantic-ish Geraldton

Our two bedroom cabin in Geraldton's caravan park feels ENORMOUS and it takes some time to adjust to the novelty of having our own bathroom - inside! - and needing to take a good 4-5 steps to get from the sink to the kitchen table. The city itself is also on the big side, but we tick all the tourist boxes quickly (Museum - check. Fisherman's Wharf - check. HMAS Sydney Memorial - check. Harbourside playground, Fruit & Veg superstore, every camping store in town. Check check check). After a few days in Geraldton we have cabin fever... literally - so we jump in the car (which feels eerily light) and head to the sunnier shores of Kalbarri.



At the memorial for the HMAS Sydney navel vessel. The dome is made up of 641 seagulls representing the sailors lost at sea. The kids gaze skyward as Budge points to the pillar that marks the longitude and latitude of where the ship was finally located.

Turbulence Strikes!!

After an overnight stopover in Dongara (nothing to see folks... move along, move along...) we set off early in the morning for Geraldton with big plans. Thirty kilometres shy of our destination a tyre flies off the caravan and our plans fly out the window. The caravan needs to go in for substantial repairs, we need to downsize our life yet again so that we can fit what we need into just the car - and it looks like it will be cabin n' motel accomodation for us for the next week, at least.

The damage up close. The tow guy informs us that he was called out to a similar incident a week ago, but instead of the tyre shooting out and across the road (as ours did), it shot up through the body of the caravan and ripped the whole side apart. So it seems, in the scheme of things, we got off lightly. That, and the fact that it all happened near enough to Geraldton, a city with not one, but two, caravan repair shops to choose from.... as opposed to, say, the Nullarbor.

Benji is transfixed watching the van being hitched up onto the tow truck. His siblings are transfixed on the DVD movie we have put on for them in the car... one of many in what quickly becomes known as the "great movie marathon day".

Every day we set off somewhere in the car, Benji, without fail, has asked "Is our caravan behind us?" Today, as we trail the tow truck, we can answer for the first time "no dude, it's in front".

Pinnicle Playground

The Pinnicles. Plentiful. Proud. Powerful.... Perfection.