We welcomed 2024 in style from party central (i.e. in bed asleep). It was hot hot hot and we didn’t want to risk driving anywhere that would be too awful if we broke down - that’s nearly everywhere unfortunately. There is so little shade anywhere, especially out on the open road. Humidity has also picked up, and that adds another level of unpleasantness. Luckily we have Pretty Pool beach on our doorstep and other beaches in Port Hedland, so staying at home is really not too shabby. We're still taking our daily evening walk and there’s always lots to see. There aren’t usually many people around, though that may change with the seasons. Occasionally a family turns up to the beach on a quad bike, with assorted kids and dogs clinging on. That's a cool way to get the kids out and exercise the dogs at the same time.
Our Pretty Pool walks usually start or end along a track we call ‘Crocodile Alley’. It’s a sandy track, heading to the ocean and we look down on it from our balcony. It begins along a track that's fringed by mangrove swamps - perfect crocodile territory - and passes a sign that warns of saltwater crocs. I'm still vigilant but more confident and relaxed nowadays. And I’m mostly fine when we take other routes to the ocean through the grassy sand dunes. “This is not crocodile territory…” I say to myself reassuringly, trying not to add “…no, it’s snake territory!!”. Peter would love love love to see a land snake, ideally a really venomous one, but it's fair to say I don’t share his vision. I’m trying to harden up my soft, namby-pamby pommy feet on our walks, and that’s going well on the sandy beach surfaces, but is work in progress when we hit gravelly sections, like along Crocodile Alley. I can’t help but imagine us in a movie, being eyed up by a hungry croc. The croc sees us but doesn’t fancy its chances of out-running us. Not until we get to the gravelly track, and I start limping and falling behind, ooching and ouching my way along. The camera pans back to the crocodile, now with a twinkle in its eye…
Abundant bird life contains to amaze us. The first pelican we saw was all on its own. Then we saw a pair (aaaw). Then 3, 4, and 6. So majestic and cartoon-like at the same time. We see heaps of egrets (all 3 kinds), eagles, and waders like Ibis. New on the list are Frigate birds, Caspian terns, cockatiels, Masked Lapwings, and a stone curlew. And lots of Oyster Catchers, which are oddly named when you think about it. It's not like you have to catch speedy oysters, eh?
Octopus Soccer is still keeping us entertained. Sometimes it’s high-scoring (up to 11 octopi once, though we had called Golden Octopus time after 3-all). It’s anyone’s game, which is quite a pleasant surprise as Peter’s usually the observant one. We haven’t managed to accidentally stand on one yet - thankfully they see us coming and squirt a warning. There are sea snakes, dead and alive, and jellyfish, and once we saw small sting rays darting around in shallow water when we were paddling on a Port Hedland beach. We often see a range of different sized bowl-shaped hollows in the sand that are created by stingrays to rest in. None of the above endear me to sea swimming, even if I could ever feel brave enough to risk sharks and crocs.
Mangroves are ever-present along much of the coastline, and amazingly fascinating they are too. My new favourite plant. They are true eco-warriors, sequestering and storing big volumes of carbon dioxide and resiliently surviving in water that's 100x saltier than other trees can handle. They have gorgeously elaborate root systems which secure them in the soft mud and protrude vertically like straws from the muddy sand and enable gaseous exchange. They provide a huge range of habitats for all kinds of organisms, so a real magnet to head for when snorkelling. It's wonderful to see them poking out from the sea at higher tides.
This month’s blog would have come to you from the stunning 80 Mile Beach, but we’re staying in a cabin on the campsite and there’s only Wi-Fi at reception. It’s a holiday weekend (Invasion and Survival Day, aka Australia Day) and still too hot at night to consider camping, and happily there were very few people. Plenty of resident monitor lizards and kangaroos filling the space where humans will eventually occupy. It’s such a privilege to be in this totally awesome place and not have to share with the hordes of holidaymakers who pack out the place at other times of the year. We’ve seen pictures of the beach being covered top to tail with campers, so it’s definitely worth braving the heat and coming out of season. The beach extends further than the eye can see both ways (140 miles / 220kms all up), and the sea floor gently descends down from the shoreline. At low tide you can walk a long way out, and as high tide approaches, the sea comes in quickly with a roar of waves that are endlessly watchable. There are long gullies that run parallel to the sea. When the bigger waves breach the rise before a gulley, the sea water creeps over, gradually filling the trenches until the whole beach is consumed by the incoming tide. The colours and wave shapes are simple and gorgeous, the sound of crashing waves is soothing, and the smell of the sea hits your nostalgia button right on the nose. We bought a cheap shade tent, so I have somewhere to sit, read and drink beer while Peter fishes. Bliss!
En route we stopped off at Cape Keraudren, another unspoilt and isolated stretch of coastline. Peter fished in the Cootenbrand Creek while I had a walk along the creek to the ocean, soaking up the stunning pastel colours of the view. Here for the first time, I finally saw a kangaroo in the wild. It wasn’t bothered by us, rather possibly curious, and bounded off and disappeared a few moments later. It was a lovely moment, only surpassed when we arrived at the 80 Mile Beach campsite to find kangaroos well-outnumbering the humans, enjoying the shade and leaping around everywhere.
On our way home we pulled into the De Grey River Rest Area, about 80kms out of Hedland. Two days before on our way to 80 Mile Beach, we noticed that the De Grey River was not a dry riverbed like all the others - it actually had some pools of water in it. But now it was majestically overflowing with pink-reflecting water despite no rainfall! We checked the map and noticed that its water sources were well inland, where there had been torrential rain and flooding. What a moment it must have been when that river water finally arrived in the dry bed at the Rest Area. Birdlife was abundant and plant life verdant. It's day-tripable from Hedland so we'll definitely be back to do some more exploring.
Back at the ranch, Billy was delighted to return from work one day and find a tiny black calf on the property. And better still, this calf’s mum is his heifer Nike - so it’s his calf. Closer inspection revealed it’s a girl, and Billy has named her Aura. She must be the offspring of Apollo or Attis and is getting on with the task of being a cute and lively calf with style. Sadly, there have been livestock losses too. Shaggy, one of our original ewes, died one hot NZ day. She must have been 12 years old, so hopefully it was just old age for her. One of our black ewes was also found dead a couple of days later, and that’s more of a mystery and a tragedy. Billy and Josh hand-sheared woolliest of the remaining flock, so fingers crossed they’ll all be ok.
Peter heads back to NZ next month for 10 days. He has to return every 6 months to remain eligible for his pension, and we figured it’s a good idea anyway. Billy has that week off work, and Sam and Lucas are both hoping to travel up to see him too. It’ll be a working holiday for him - chopping firewood, thistle bashing and generally sorting out the land. And there’ll also be my list obviously! Karyn has been doing an amazing job keeping the gardens, paths and hedges tidy, and she may have some ideas for how he can make best use of his time while he’s there. Get that list sorted Karyn - you know you want to! Probably it’s good that I’m not going with him. I reckon it would be hard to leave again and unsettling when I’m back. Despite the magic and wildlife that surrounds us here, I am missing home more than I’d imagined. It feels like life's on hold. We still don’t have any firm plans for when we return finally, and that also depends on what Billy wants to do and where he wants to be. Nor do I know what I’ll do for work in NZ. I'm hanging onto the belief that the universe will line something up to keep me gainfully occupied, and in the meantime, focusing on finding my joy here. We've booked a holiday for April, a proper holiday to Exmouth on the Coral Coast that will include swimming with whale sharks in the Ningaloo Marine Park (another bucket-list item) and exploring the outstanding Cape Range National Park.
One more month of extreme weather, then we should start to cool off and live more of an outdoor life. Roll on Autumn and Winter!
