Australia is really a very big place! It had been one thing to travel through some pretty isolated country on Cape York and through the expanses of outback NSW and QLD, but our journey down through the centre had brought the vastness of our wonderful country into real focus. And it is amazing how, after a while, everything becomes relative.
We set out from Glendambo with a sense that by the end of this day's travel we would be 'home' again, despite the fact Port Germein is still over 200 kms from Adelaide. In fact, I have to confess that as the power station chimney of Port Augusta loomed into view I felt as though we were in our backyard. Perception can be an odd thing.
But we have to get there first. Once again we drove out into another area of vast, open plains, much of which for many kilometres to come, forms part of the Woomera rocket range restricted area. Notices along the roadside in many places cautioned that our presence on the highway was allowed, but to stray off it was to invite a serious rap on the knuckles (mind you there did not seem to be too many policing the edict!)
All of a sudden the road ahead heaved skywards complete with a traversing roadtrain. We knew that the railway line was not nearby.
As we made the crossing ourselves, we found out that this was a bridge built over a mining access road. There were several more within the next 50 kms or so. Opals are not the only thing attracting some large investment in this area. The bridge did provide an awesome vantage point from which to look out over the plains (and the roadtrain which had preceded us across it).
We were heading down into the country of the great salt pans and dry lakes. Although we only caught the occasional glimpse, we travelled past Lake Gairdner and, on the other side of the highway, the much smaller Lake Hart. From an overnight stop area we were able to see much of this lake as it shimmered in the early morning light. It was a beautiful sight.
And that wasn't the only thing. Here the railway line again runs close to the roadway, and as we were taking a quick look at Lake Hart, a freight train rumbled its way past hugging the shore line around the edge of the water. We are firmly planning an overnight stay in this extraordinary spot.
On past the Pimba roadhouse made famous by 'Spud' Murphy, a genuine outback character of his day, and beyond to the Woomera turnoff we drove. On into the lagoon country which marks the southern boundary of the great interior lake system
and across a long causeway which carries the highway over the usually dry bed of this large salty lagoon.
We were now well into the salt pan and low brown hills country just north of Port Augusta.
What a daunting spectacle these great flat salt pans must have presented to our early explorers and those who struggled to eke out a living in these areas.
Past the salt pans the country again changed. Low scrub and saltbush took over from the salt and sand. Port Augusta could not be too far away by now but these long, straight stretches did begin to present a challenge to both patience and concentration.
But finally, there it was, the Port August power station looming out of the heat haze. We had travelled 'The Track', or at least a goodly part of it!
After a quick re-supply stop in downtown Pt Augusta, we were off again on the last 75 kms of our trip to Port Germein.
What a welcome sight the entrance to this decidedly seaside caravan park presented and how good it was to catch up with my old mate Norm Colquist and to meet his delightful wife Joy.
We were soon on site and off to stretch our legs after this day's trip of just over 350 kms. The Port Germein jetty, the longest wooden jetty in the southern hemisphere, seemed just the shot. In fact I was revelling again being on the coast, and, more than that, a coast with which I was comfortably familiar.
The claims made about the Port Germein jetty are not mere idle boasting. This port was a hive of activity during the days of the square riggers and grain clippers. Much of the grain harvest of the mid north of SA left our shores for Europe at Port Germein. As this shot of the sand flats at low tide so clearly demonstrates, the jetty had to run out to sea for its 1.5 kilometres to allow the grain ships to come alongside and remain afloat.
These days a walk out along this maritime edifice does allow for some wonderful views back to the shoreline with the lower Flinders Ranges as a backdrop. And you have noticed it, haven't you? How could you not......this strange looking contraption sitting idle on the sand. It has to be there for a reason and made for a purpose.
Just so....a local Port Germein boat jinker, a device designed to master the challenge of launching and retrieving a small fishing boat on these tidal flats. We were lucky to see one in action as we walked back towards the shore.
Climb on board and off we go across the sand
and out into the water, boat trailer in tow.
It is simply then a matter of retrieving the tinny
and heading back to shore for a beer or two whilst cleaning and filleting the day's catch. I just loved these things.....Aussie inventiveness at its best. I had visions that the fisherman was on the phone to home....get the beer on ice thanks dear. Whiting for tea!
We were particularly pleased we had the opportunity to take advantage of the afternoon weather on the day of our arrival in Port Germein for a walk and later, a glass of bubbles on the foreshore at sunset. It all came to an abrupt end the following morning.
The forecast had warned of strong northerly winds, but did not say anything about the banshee which was unleashed on the caravan park and all of us in it. From about 0800 hours until well into the afternoon we were lashed by flying grit and clouds of whipped up dust, both local and from the surrounding countryside.
I had made the fatal error of forgetting I had left the cruiser front windows slightly down to allow the heat to escape the previous day. What a sight greeted me after the winds had subsided....it seemed as though half the Simpson Desert was covering the dash, the instrument panel and the steering wheel. Fortunately we travel with towels on the seats which at least meant the seat covers were not inundated. Not happy Jan!
But the day ended wonderfully. Max finally emerged on patrol and even managed to climb a tree, although, true to form did not have the faintest idea what to do when he did, or even how to get down with dignity,
and we later joined Joy and Norm in the park residence for a simple but delightful BBQ at which I cracked a bottle of very good red I had been carrying for just such an occasion.
Norm retired early from SAPOL, but we had done the CIB course together, amongst other things, and had much about which to reminisce. Apart from that, in his post SAPOL career, Norm had worked for Lloyd Aviation, the company which supplied the helicopters for the State Helicopter Rescue Service which I had helped found all those years ago. Again, we knew many folk in common, including Guy Lloyd, his wife Adele and many other company 'heavies'. What a chat we had!
We agreed the following morning it had been just as well we both had to make early starts or things could had gotten seriously out of hand, especially after Norm produced a particularly fine port. Norm and Joy are about to take over the management of the Normanville Jetty park for the next five years and were off to meet staff, and of course, we were on our way to Port Clinton to drop off the van for its 10,000 kms service (yep, the figure is right) and thence to Adelaide for a six day layover. What a highlight Port Germein was on which to end our eastern states adventure for the time being .
We remain indebted to our good friend Linda who very kindly accommodated us for our Adelaide sojourn during which we were very busy. Liz had appointments with doctors and dentists. We had the Cruiser serviced, managed a lunch (really enjoyed it KG!) and later drinks with old workmates, made the obligatory visits to Mums and other rellies, and indulged in a Saturday night 'thank you Linda' dinner at my surf club at Glenelg. This all made for a hectic stay which concluded with a lovely lunch at the same venue, my much loved Glenelg Surf Club, with Cam and Liz's family.
Wonderful as it was to catch up with friends and relatives, and to wander around our old haunts, we are now nomads....the West beckons and it was time to move on.
I was not looking forward to having to transfer all our kit from the Cruiser back into the caravan at Port Clinton, but as things transpired that was the very least of our travails on that day. With a bit of luck I should be almost up to date with that tale and our trip across the Nullarbor within the next three days.....stay tuned!
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