KURRIMINE BEACH (22 JULY - 3 AUGUST)

Travelling northwards from Townsville, our quest for warmer weather continues.  Long behind us now are the outback grazing plains and the savannah country which has been a part of our lives for the past six weeks or so.  We are finally into the cane and banana country of tropical far north Queensland.  The cane fields line the road towards our destination of Kurrimine Beach for kilometre after kilometre.  And all of this against the back drop of the heavily wooded

and spectacular ranges of the northern Great Divide.

 

Of course, hold ups are a part of life on the Bruce Highway, a road notorious for collisions and deaths.  (In our experience there are two reasons for this...a dearth of passing lane strips and idiot local drivers, typified by one motorcyclist who passed us on a blind bend after crossing double lines!)

At least the government is making efforts to remedy some of the worst areas

such as here on this ridge where the winding and narrow approach and departure road is being significantly widened. Undeterred by such trifles (it can be a touch harrowing hauling the van through some of these challenging defiles...especially when a comfort stop beckons with some urgency) we pushed on through Ingham and Cardwell, past South Mission and Mission Beaches towards Kurrimine Beach.

 

 

 

 

It is interesting to reflect on particular scenes which tend to define with absolute clarity the essence of the area in which we are travelling.  Our approach towards Tully yielded one such...the sugar mill in full swing against the background of the cane fields and the mountains.  This is definitely not the outback!  More of the mill later after a planned visit to see it in operation.

A 12 km trip off the Bruce finally found us on the coast and into Kurrimine Beach.  Our informants and the promotional information were all correct.  This is not a place of glitz and nightlife.  This is a fishing/quiet holiday village through and through.  We have since found that we can walk around the entire town in a little over an hour and a half...just the place to drop anchor for a few weeks and catch up physically and mentally. (yes, I know...life is tough for some)

Kurrimine Beach boasts three caravan parks.  Two of these are right on the beach.  That which we chose is one street back.  This might seem to be a disadvantage to some, but provides some real comfort when the winds hoot from the wrong direction. 

Because of the length of our van, we were assigned a large site in a corner of the park which coincidentally presented other benefits...more of this later.  This park is also home to a 20 metre pool (another reason for our choice), of which full use is being made to counter the weight increasing effects of the obligatory daily happy hours.  We booked in for a week initially with the option to extend up to a month.

 

The day after our arrival, Rhonda and John Vogt, a Victorian couple we had first met at the Burke and Wills Roadhouse several weeks previously and with whom we had shared time in Normanton, took up residence a few sites away.  This was to be the beginning of a very social and enjoyable week, so much so that they extended their original stay by a few days (and indeed would have done so by more if not for the fact that bookings are so tight here at this time of the year). 

 

Now I would love to be able to report that we have been feasting on fresh fish from the time of our arrival.  Whilst those with boats large enough to travel out to the edge of the reef (Great Barrier of course) are doing famously well, those of us restricted to beach and river activities have fared badly.  My frustration has been tempered to some extent by the fact that even those whose skills here on the east coast with both rigs and bait choices far exceed mine, are returning to camp day after day equally empty handed. (now I know that sounds somewhat 'dog-in-the-mangerish' but we fisher folk can become singularly challenged!)  One such worthy, who has been here now for sixteen weeks, chirpily announced the capture of a nice sized flathead a few afternoons ago.  I happened to know that this piscatorial triumph had taken him three days of five hour sessions each flicking lures into the nearby (croc inhabited) river to achieve.  My envy was less raw in this knowledge!

This is not to say we haven't tried.  Nor that we didn't have the right gear including the 'sniffer dog'. ('Bobby' is a Samoyed/Black Labrador cross and is an absolute champion)  But of course looking the part is not the whole story.  John and I spent five hours and walked six kms along the beach and river edges on this particular day for no result other than the satisfaction of having tried (and a much better tasting beer at happy hour!)

 

But there is more on offer in the Kurrimine Beach Tourist Park than the opportunity to fish.  As with many parks, particularly at this time of the season, the managers organize a range of weekly activities of varying degrees of appeal.  Whilst we declined the 'Soup and Charades' evening, we were enthusiastic starters for the 'Xmas in July' function held in the camp kitchen which we had helped decorate earlier that day.  (to the extent that the 'Park Mayor' would let us help....every  smallish caravan park has at least one longer term inhabitant who assumes the self appointed role of 'camp boss'....most can be ignored, others can be very painful).

Not even this minor rebuff of our offered talents was to sully our evening's revelry.  We all gathered at the appointed hour to enjoy offerings of pork, ham and chicken provided by the park and an assortment of salads and sweets brought by the participants. (I am always a little suspicious of the outcome of these arrangements...in this case it was well organized and worked very well) 

I would invite you all to note Liz shown here at the far left of the photo, a model of decorum, chatting sociably to the Vogts. 

Others of us were equally refined in our social intercourse,








but, oh how the passage of the night and the lure of the dreaded Karaoke screen changed all this...and white bubbles probably helped!)

Behold the Karaoke Queen in full flight, only to be outdone on the night by the Park Manageress, whose equal enthusiasm made up for any shortcomings in the vocal area.

It was a very good night, and one which provided another of those 'Pete knows everyone' stories.  The chap sitting next to me, as our conversation revealed, was an ex Cathy Pacific ground engineer, Hong Kong based for many years.  He nearly fell off his chair when I suggested he must know a certain Cathay captain, Allan Mellor (I had flown shark patrol in Adelaide for five years with Allan in the mid to late 70's).  My new acquaintance knew him well.  Liz just rolled her eyes!

But enough of this social and personal stuff.  Kurrimine Beach and its surrounds await exploration and comment.

As I mentioned previously, KB should never be the destination for those to whom a holiday is a disaster unless their penchant for the high life and night life can be sated daily.  It actually reminds us of some of those lovely Yorke Peninsula towns where fishing is paramount and the residents are a mixture of retired farmers, weekenders (Cairns is but 90kms to the north), those hiding from the world at large, the annual sun seeking throng, and, of course, those who provide accommodation and services to all.



This is reflected to a large extent in KB's housing.  Whilst cyclones Larry and Yasi did their best to flatten all 'old KB' (with some degree of success), survivors can be found.  This beach house, which is situated a stone's throw from our park, is typical of the age, style and state of repair of those which remain.

   










On the other hand, and typical of so many beach side towns, the front is being given over to redevelopment, 

in which the theme in common is 'flash'.

   

Other pockets of new development can be found throughout the town.  In these, fine houses and well tended tropical gardens are commonplace.

But despite all this, the quaint and unusual still survive in KB.  (we loved the murals on this quite new cottage which were very well done).

Our walks around the town also revealed another building quirk which we have never previously seen, but which we have noted in several Queensland towns.  The balcony clothes line!

Strange as this may look, it does makes sense if the lower portion of one's home is prone to flooding, or is occupied by another family.  In any event, that's the way we have rationalised this architectural oddity.

But of all the things KB presents which impress, delight or surprise, for us, it is the tractors which take the cake.  They are utterly ubiquitous.  I could fill this missive with shot after shot of 'normal' front yards in which a tractor (of vastly differing types, ages and states of repair) proudly sits, such as shown in this typical KB street.

And they are put to good use.  Access to the outer reef area where the 'big boys' play demands a craft of substance.  Despite the presence of a good ramp, the soft beach flats of low tide and the local penchant for beach launching  make the use of a tractor essential.   This is a common sight in suburban KB,

as are the return journeys from the ramp (same tractor).

A good motel, modern beach front pub, a stylish cafe, two 'take-aways' (one of which vaunts a 'convenience store' which is anything but)  and petrol station/post office round out the commercial side of KB.  The spiritual needs of those so inclined are catered for in the most charming "Chapel by the Sea", where the posted invitation to seek spiritual comfort is most sensibly augmented by the note that scones and coffee will follow the 3.00pm service.

   

And of course, that which dominates all life in KB (other than the weather)....the beach.  The sweep of the front at KB is significant and much longer than many other named and populated beaches and bays of the area, with the exception of Mission Beach.  I mentioned previously that John Vogt and I walked 3 kms from our park to a river mouth at the southern end of KB beach to fish. 

Annoyingly, I am not able to adequately demonstrate this pictorially.  Suffice it to say that the river mouth to which I have referred is away around the left had sweep of the beach in the distance, just to the left of mid picture.  And the beach continues on behind where I was standing northwards for at least another 1.5 kms.  If you look closely in this shot the tiny strip of dry sand which shows the high water mark is a mere two metres from the edge of the palms and tropical vegetation which run continuously along the shore.  As the tourist blurb proudly proclaims, this is the area of Australia  "Where the forest meets the sea". (and it does).  With Dunk Island well visible to the south, Hinchenbrook Island further south again and a group of smaller, but more distinct islands just to the north of the beachfront, we are in no doubt that we are inhabiting a spot in tropical far north Queensland.  Interestingly, we find ourselves becoming almost blase in our references to what had always previously been, to us, a romantically exotic part of our country.

And what an assortment of interesting places is on offer 'up here'.  We have used KB as a base from which to sally forth to explore the coast and hinterland between Innisfail and South Mission Beach. 

Immediately to our north is Cowley Beach, which we found to be a smaller version of KB.  Beyond that our travels took us into Mourilyan Harbour. (easy for you to say!)  Here the 'tropical beach idyll' gives way to commerce and industry in a serious way, but almost paradoxically, in a setting which remains almost picture perfect.

The entry road to the port is dominated by these warehouses in which (we later discovered) the raw sugar produced at the Tully Mill is stored ready for shipment to all parts of the world.












The sugar is loaded via conveyor belts onto ships which tie up at a substantial wharf.  Given the narrow harbour entrance between two large coastal hills, and the restrictions of room in the immediate basin, I would dearly like to watch a docking.  Unfortunately on the day of our visit the cupboard was bare .

Mourilyan Harbour provides a substantial boat ramp and mooring facilities for yachts and other craft, not to mention a delightful waterway which extends well to the south of the actual harbour. (Again my photographic skills and equipment do not do justice)

 



The ramp area provided us with another example of Yasi's fury.  'Rainbows End' has come to a sad end with large holes in her hulls and other significant damage.





At the risk of being cruelly glib at the expense of another's misfortune, I could not resist this opportunistic shot of Liz who has finally 'found herself at [the] Rainbows End', complete with navigational aids (on the notice behind her) if she should wish to return!





North of Mourilyan Harbour lies a real coastal gem.  Etty Bay is accessed via a fairly steep climb over its protective ridge.  The equally steep descent leads to one of the most 'picture postcard' little tropical bays imaginable. 

No more than 6-700 metres long at a guess, this wonderful coastal nook lies at the base of a steep, heavily forested hillside, arms of which sweep seaward to embrace a stretch of (unusually) fine golden sand on which the really clear and blue water of the Coral Sea ebbs and flows.





A surf club and large kiosk come store are located off to the mountain side of the entrance roadway








which leads directly (and only) to the caravan park which is tucked up against the northern slopes.

Sadly this park will not take pets, but for the most interesting of reasons.  This is cassowary country...'The Cassowary Coast' in fact.  Where most dog and cat bans are directed at protecting the native wild life, here the converse is the case.  For those who are not aware, an aroused and frightened cassowary is a formidable opponent, more than adequately defensively equipped with a large bony ridge along its head and a wicked set of claws.  The pet ban in this park is for the protection of the pets!

And, as if scripted, our climb out of Etty Bay was highlighted by and encounter with one of these magnificent birds which we watched wander off a front lawn

  

and off into the rain forest on the opposite side of the road.

We have spoken to kindred visitors who have dedicated entire days to wandering the rain forest in search of these elusive fellows.....unsuccessfully.  We could not believe our luck!  Mind you we didn't venture out of the tug....although we have been taught that if confronted the trick is to raise one's arms well above one's head (or use a stick) to 'look taller than the cassowarry', I was not at all keen to see if it was a sound piece of advice!

I have to admit that from this point on the day's sights become somewhat anti-climactic, although the extraordinary art deco buildings of Innisfail, through which we next travelled, will certainly be the subject of a thorough examination next week when we return to have the tug serviced and 'do the town' properly.

From Flying Fish Point we attempted to reach the little known Ella Bay.  To our chagrin, after negotiating a somewhat challenging track, we found our progress blocked by a large gate and most unwelcoming prohibited entry sign.  We later learnt that the beach beyond this point was severely damaged during Yasi to the degree that the track is unsafe.  Restorative works are in progress, we were assured, so "don't be deterred in your next visit"!



The attempt was not entirely wasted.  We were rewarded with some fleeting but wonderful views north along the coast and the most delightful mountain stream crossing, but to my intense irritation, these photos are steadfastly refusing to upload.  Hopefully the fault will self-rectify before my next offering....or it will be a case of "LIZ!".  In the interim, as they say, publish and be damned!.