WE SETTLE INTO ALBANY AND MEET WILLIAM MCINNES (NOVEMBER - DECEMBER 2014)

Well, we were here. Our new home for the next thee months. We had celebrated Liz's birthday and our camp was being set up and tweaked. The fish were waiting to be caught, but the weather was lousy and there was still work to be done. 

We had received the encouraging news from Autospark that the battery we had left there for charging was OK. One out of two was a good start. Could our luck hold with battery number two?

There was only one way to find out. Take it out and get it seen to. The upshot....bad news. After two days on charge the second battery showed no spark at all. 

After some discussion we decided that the thought of another electrical problem when we were in the far north of WA (or anywhere else for that matter) was not a pleasant prospect. It was time to revisit the whole subject of our electrical systems. With the future prospect of some time spent in free campsites as we make our way out of WA and beyond, we took the decision to replace both batteries, and have two additional devices installed....a booster to ensure that the cruiser delivers full charge to the caravan whilst we are travelling, and an inverter, a gadget which converts 12V to 240V. This will enable us to use our computer, TV and other similar low demand electrical items when free camping without having to fire up the 240V generator. 

But all this is on hold for the moment. Common sense dictated that we have this work done as we up stakes and leave Albany. The prospect of the cost of all this was a little daunting, but needs must.....off to work Liz...now you have some real motivation.....our bank balance will be at least $2,000 lighter after all this is installed!

And, after a couple of week's grace, that's exactly what she did. Fortunately, the Albany Hospital, where Liz has a seven week contract nursing job in the surgical ward, is a mere  

seven minute drive from our park. Her roster over this period was less than completely user friendly, but, to our joint relief, did not include any night shifts. The potential social inconvenience of working every weekend and right across the Xmas-New Year period was a a far more preferable option than working nights, when the need to sleep during the day would have created some significant domestic difficulties. 

Disappointingly, the nursing management at the Albany Hospital leaves a lot to be desired. A total absence of any sort of systems, infrastructure or procedural orientation made Liz's first week something of a challenge. She had to call on all her vast experience to settle in. Learning local requirements by "being yelled at" (staff words, not mine) when an error is made rather than being properly inducted in he first instance is a very poor way to run a ward. 

But she survived this baptism of fire and is now really enjoying her job, to the extent she is already 'training' quite a few junior staff. Needless to say, the nursing agency for whom Liz works has been brought right up to speed on this serious management failure. 

I guess the obvious question is what do I do with myself all day?  This varies with Liz's shifts. The Albany Hospital is located in an interesting socio-economic area. We both feel better if we do not have to worry about the security of the cruiser and its contents, particularly after nightfall, so The Matron has a personal chauffeur to and from work. This is good fun when she finishes at 2200 hours one night and is on again at 0630 hours the following morning. I can clearly recall that during my policing days I was never fond of what we used to call 'a quick change'.



Before starting work Liz decided that it was time to re-sort and re-pack all her 'Carnarvon working clothes'.  She now had a uniform. That was fun to watch. There was gear from one end of the van to the other until it was all packed away in the vacuum sealed bags she uses. Max was far from impressed.....he hates the vacuum cleaner noise and makes no distinction between uses.



One thing about which I must freely confess to being anal when we set up for a long period is the state of the annex. We have been into so many of these were finding a spot to put down a chair for happy hour takes so long the hour is almost over by the time the first top is popped.  This will not happen 'Chez Marshies'. The principle of 'the smaller the space the more organised it must be' was taught to me many years ago (at the Police Academy where a failure to learn quickly carried interesting consequences). 



Large table clothes can hide a multitude of sins. The original striped cloth for our large table was beginning to show signs of wear and tear, so it was off to Spotlight in search of a replacement. And whilst there, why not two new cushions...those we bought in Lennox Head almost four years ago have run their race....they are now exclusively for Max's use.

I hate throwing out things which may have a second function.  Our old main cloth was put to very good use on our smaller cooking table. Its drop, and the placement of the bag containing our sun lounge across the front, serves to hide an absolute mess of bits and pieces of my fishing gear....buckets, bags, old clothes, reef shoes, bait belts etc, etc.....all essentials, but invariably grotty looking and messy. With this set-up we don't have to look at it, particularly when relaxing with an evening drink.











Liz, in particular, does spend quite a bit of time in the annex during the day. I prefer to use the computer at the dining table, but herself is an outside girl in that regard....the truth of the matter is that she 'spreads'. The dinette table cannot cope with her creative mess.








And as you can see in the last, Max has had no trouble settling in. He loves the annex. Security, comfort and the ability to keep an eye on all the goings on, inside and out....moggie heaven.  

Just the spot after 'breakfast in bed', and,













when it all get just too hard, well, it's time to shut out the world and take a nap.










Settling down for a while does wonders for Chef Pierre's creative juices. I try to master several new recipes every time we drop anchor for some time. Muffins were first on the Albany agenda, or should that be menu?  Savoury muffins, that is. All cheese, bacon and mustard. I am modestly pleased to report that the result was a triumph (wearing Ugg boots does help!) I actually made a small rod for my own back with these....Liz placed an order for a batch to take to work on Xmas morning for their shared goodies munch. With culinary flattery like that how could I refuse?




Once Liz began work, we settled into a real routine. It's really no different from being 'at home'. Cooking, washing, shopping...all those mundane requirements of normal existence still demand time. And, of course, there is the constant demand of these missives. On average this chews up two to three hours per day with photo selection, script and editing, so please enjoy!

Then, every week or so at this time of the year, all things come to a halt.....the cricket is on. Four or five day periods disappear in a wink as I remain glued to the telecast. I still can't quite get used to watching the start of play over (deliberate!) breakfast because of our time difference...what a great way to start the day.

But we do try to get out and about during Liz's days off, or in the mornings before an afternoon shift.

Albany is big on markets, as I detailed the last time we were here. The regular Saturday morning farmers' market and the Boatshed market on Sundays always attract good crowds. We have often been amongst them. But on this visit, the 'market whisperer' was excited to announce she had found another....a general market held every so often at the showgrounds.  Off we went.

There is no other word to describe what we found spread out on rows and rows of large trestle tables but 'stuff'....all sorts of stuff. It was like visiting a large second hand shop. And, to the vast amusement and patient forbearance of my tight-walleted companion, I was sucked in...four dainty little cut crystal (cut glass really) port glasses now grace our caravan. Just the shot when demonstrating to visitors that caravan life can be gracious (or was that pretentious?)



Whilst she left empty handed, Liz did take the opportunity to experience another 'life first'. What else would one expect to find in an Albany junk market? There as no amount of ridicule, humiliation or money which could have persuaded me to emulate her feat of bravado. "I don't care if it's not dangerous....you've only got his word for that...a snake is a bloody snake and a python is just a big version.....you're on your own, mate".


But what about the fishing, I hear you cry, or at least some of you. No problems. Marshie is a not so modest master when it comes to snaring garfish, Liz's seafood nosh of choice. There are brownie points to be won here in Albany.

But I could not take on this challenge immediately. I discovered to my extraordinary surprise when last here that there is no bait shop in WA which sells that irresistible delicacy (if you are born a 'gardie', as the locals call them)...fly maggots, or as we in SA know them, 'gents'. I'll just have to breed my own. So, after a visit to a local seafood retailer and a stock feed store, armed with a huge kingfish head and bran and pollard, production began. I'll not go into too much detail other than to reassure those of you whose noses are wrinkling in disgust, that once the process is complete and the end product is wriggling in clean bran and pollard, there is no smell and no mess. Mind you, a good supply of disposable latex gloves does help at certain points along the way!






Well, was it all worth it.  I'll let you be the judge. One and a half dozen gar and four tommies after the first outing.







This was a more than encouraging result, and, I'm delighted to announce, the first of several such catches (until the hordes descended on Albany for Xmas). Our freezer is well endowed and I'm a very popular fellow! I'm very much looking forward to visiting some of the local beaches to hunt for whiting....once the weather improves.

Speaking of which, summer seems to have forgotten Albany this year. I know we came south to escape Perth's seasonal heat, but what we have experienced to date has been ridiculous.  We are both over rain, wind and daily maxima in the high teens. Even the locals are grizzling.

But even rotten weather does not dampen all enthusiasm for getting out and about, especially if it this means an evening with William McInnes. When it was announced that this tall, laconic doyen of Australian actors and authors would be making a personal visit to Albany to launch his latest book 'Holidays', Liz began to flutter about like a dizzy schoolgirl. She is an unabashed (shamefully so) McInnes groupie. A chance to meet her idol....tickets please!  



I, too, have really enjoyed some of Bill's books and was more than happy to join the jolly at the waterfront restaurant 'Due South'. Here a three course meal was served and for the relatively reasonable price of $70 per head. We were not alone. The gender mix was interesting. At our table of twelve, for example, I found I was 'the token male'.







In addition to our meal, which was quite good, the redoubtable William spread his indisputable largess amongst the gathered throng of adoring women, posing with admirable patience and good humour,










before taking mike in hand and 'singing for his supper' in a most entertaining fashion. His acting skills were very much on display as he brought together many snippets of his life as he has detailed in his several books. 





He was impressively frank about the devastating effect of the highly premature death of his wife and disarming candid about many quite personal aspects of his life. This was all interspersed with wonderfully witty observations of much of what he had experienced at a lad growing up in Brisbane and elsewhere. I'll be the first to admit that I was as charmed and captivated as his flock of female followers. It was a most entertaining presentation.

But then came the highlight of the evening for one member of team MobileMarshies. A personal meeting and book signing at the table, no less. No queueing for The Matron. Surely he'll come to me! Yep, and we haven't heard the end of it yet.

Despite myself, I have to admit this had been an evening to remember. It will remain one highlight of our summer in Albany. There were some potential spin off advantages too. The lass seated next to Liz is the owner of a local cafe.....I Iook forward to seeing if our personable company carries any consumer advantages.

So here we are, all settled into life in the south, making the most of the peace and quiet of the park amongst other things. We know this is all about to change radically...Xmas approaches, our second on the road. What will this Festive Season bring, besides caravan chaos at the Rose Gardens?

DENMARK - ALBANY - A VISIT TO THE 'SPARKY', OUR NEW CAMP AND A BIRTHDAY (7 NOVEMBER 2014)

I was right. Our last night in Denmark, and the heavens opened. Talk about 'rain on the roof', but with no canvas to flap, bang or tear I could not have cared less. 








We woke to a sky of pink and violet,













and a Wilson Inlet which was now the epitome of aquatic serenity as a pelican and its escort of two black swans sortied out to seek breakfast. 















The weather was clearing, but the park roadways provided clear evidence of the overnight storm. I was more than a little grateful that I would not have to don my wet weather gear for our hitch up.




In the face of this dump from the heavens and our previous discovery that the tingles of the Valley of the Giants require 1,200 mm of annual rainfall for survival, we were stunned to later discover that Denmark has been placed on water restrictions.....the town is 300 mm short of its annual rainfall!  What would we have given for figures like these in Adelaide some years ago as we all struggled with early morning hose waterings or just gave up and lived in domestic deserts!

For us the trials and tribulations of Denmark's domestic water supply was about to become a thing of the past, but we had a problem of our own. We had noted on the trip down from Carnarvon that our 12V electrical system was faulty. Without boring you with all the details I worked out that this meant either a faulty Anderson Pug (the connection which allows the cruiser to charge the van batteries whilst travelling) or buggered caravan batteries. 




The last thing I wanted to do was to have to hitch up and take the van to a 12V 'sparky's' shop once we had unhitched and settled, so I had arranged to call into just such and establishment en route from Denmark to our Albany home at the Rose Gardens Caravan Park.







Here the good folk of Autospark went to work checking all aspects of the van's 12 V systems. After the Anderson Plug has been declared operational, out came the van batteries,













and one of the dinette benches to allow for a close look at the wiring to the battery charger.










And the verdict?  Good news and bad. The van wiring is apparently very good, the charger and the solar panels were in good nick, but the batteries were not. Not happy, Jan....these had been replaced only eighteen months ago, and they are bloody expensive.

With no other option we left one of the two van batteries with Autospark to be put on the charger for the next couple of days and continued on to the Rose Gardens to set up our home for the next three months.

Given that we have graced this park with our presence on two previous occasions, both of which have been the subjects of former blogs, I'll attempt some restraint in this missive. Oddly enough, when I mentioned that plan to Liz she just snorted something like, "I'll bet you can't". 





The first thing we noticed on arrival was just how empty the place was. Around our chosen site there were vacant slabs













and empty spaces in all directions.











Even the highly prized seafront area (where the unknowing can pay the heavy price of a battering from the wind for the dubious benefit of sea glimpses) was all but empty. After the hubbub of Carnarvon and, more latterly, Denmark, this was something of a culture shock, but very welcome.




Mind you, this is all about to change. According to the park managers, from 27 December until late January, the park is booked out. This came as no real surprise in that when we had arranged our site earlier this year, those on which we could set up without having to shift at some stage because of a previous booking, were quite limited.  

The choice of a long-term site is not as simple as it may seem, particularly if setting up the annex is part of the equation. Can we get a slab...and if so will we be able to peg the annex wall into the ground around it entirely? This is important for both wind resistance and waterproofing. On those slabs where, because of their length, one end wall has to be secured by roping it across the concrete, that wall will always flap madly in strong winds, but more importantly, when it rains there is nothing to prevent water falling on the cement at that end of the annex from flowing across the whole annex floor (as we discovered the hard way at Werri Beach).

If a slab is not available, how level are the grassed sites for the annex floor? This can have a real bearing on the stability of tables, chairs and cooking stands etc, and whilst this is not a major problem in the short term, it becomes a real pest over time.

Is there shade? Will we need to erect the fridge side shade cloth to prevent overheating in the van, and if so, is there room to do it effectively? 

What are the predominate prevailing wind directions and will we have our shoulder and van side facing that way to provide some shelter for the annex? 

What vehicle parking is on offer? Can we get in and out easily when things become busy?

Will we have some 'elbow room' or will being jammed against neighbours on both sides be inevitable, again when the park is crowded? 

These are some of the considerations to be borne in mind, even more so when the chosen patch will be 'Chez Marshies' for three months. 


Of all which were on offer, I selected this corner site to be our Albany home. Whilst being on one of the main park thoroughfares has its drawbacks, this patch seemed to offer much.  It is one of the biggest sites we have ever come across, there is reasonable afternoon shade, the annex is protected from the howling westerlies and sou'westers which can rage across this park and the grassed area under the annex walls is quite flat and even.


In any event, the die was cast....for good or bad this was to be it.  So down went the flooring (again I sing the praises of C-Gear), up went the annex, out came all the requisite bits and pieces for a comfortable life, and we settled in. So far so good.

This really was a big patch of park we had chosen.








And then our first small scare.....on night two of Albany domesticity the rain we had experienced in Denmark was shoved into second place by a classic Albany overnight downpour. I woke to find a huge puddle on the roadway near our site, but more disturbingly, evidence of the water which had flooded over the nearby drainage sumps. The line of peppermint tree flowers showed that we had been saved from a flooded annex by the slight rise in the ground between the drains and us. Whew!

So it was then out with the shovel and with a bit of work I managed to clear the grass and mud from the mouth of both drains. Problem number one identified and solved.


Problem number two.....again rain related. On checking the awning roller arm (remember we had a new awning) I found that we had the same leaking seam as we had with our previous. But this time experience provided the solution. Out came the wax stick we now carry and I was able to caulk the seam along the length of the awning (and it has worked!)




What next I wondered. The answer was not long in coming. Wind, in the form of a screaming south-westerly change....despite our position the van and our canvas were all shaking and flapping like a scene from 'The Exorcist'. This was not going to be the last of these events. 









So up went the trusty internal bracing poles (which have proven to be one of the best bits of kit we have ever bought) 















and over the top went the tie down strap.

That should keep everything in place. And then I realised that with a couple of tarpaulins I could probably enclose the front of the annex to provide even more protection. No sooner said than done. The trees and the light pole were perfectly placed.

And this wind mitigation strategy came with two added benefits.....a sheltered little outside 'beer garden', and a place for the BBQ, where I could connect it directly to the van supply and where it would be out of sight of potentially nefarious prying eyes. The co-pilot was more than pleased on both counts.

Now we must be set. Wrong. Trees are great for shade and ambiance, but they can play havoc with good TV reception, and with a long stay pending, this was a matter which demanded attention. After all, this is the season of Test Cricket apart from anything else. So, as we did in Perth at the same time last year, our antiquated but usually 'last resort' reliable DX was hoisted on its pole and cables attached. Some improvement, but not perfect.  And then we made one of those 'why hasn't someone told us about this before' discoveries....the main 'wineguard' fixed aerial, which had not been performing too well to date, provided excellent reception if only extended half way!  Well, that was an hour and a half wasted. Needless to say, the DX is still in position....things could yet change again.

As I have said so many times before, rarely a week goes by in this game without learning something new. 

We were finally set, and I can report at this stage with some satisfaction that we are as snug as bugs, even when, in the words of that marvellous Gordon Lightfoot song about the wreck of the Edmund Fitzgerald, "the gales of November came early".

These various alterations and additions were added over a few days. On the day of our arrival, after the delays at Autospark and my concern that the annex walls may prove something of a challenge now that we had a new awning (we had discovered at Denmark that the awning was slightly bigger than our previous....this had a significant  bearing on the fit of the end walls....won't go into all the details other than to say it caused some real headaches), we merely dropped anchor and did the bare minimum set-up.

There was a very good reason for this. We had to celebrate that evening.....it was Lizzie's birthday. So our first night in Albany was marked by a stroll down to the nearby Squid Shack, heavily laden with appropriate glass containers from which to both pour and sip.

We were delighted to find our favourite corner table was vacant....not for long. (I know this photo is on the wrong side....for some reason the blog has had a conniption....it will not budge)







We did turn a few heads as we popped the champagne bottle cork (this is a BYO establishment with no corkage charge.....bless them) and settled back to await the arrival of our chosen meal. The Squid Shack definitely a 'no frills' establishment at the fishing boat harbour, but what comes out of the galley is seafood which sings. 

A mixed platter of shark, red emperor, prawns and salt and pepper squid (and chips, of course) was washed down with a crisp Denmark sav blanc, a Rockcliffe offering which we had bought for just this occasion. We felt like 'locals' already.

This was indeed a great way in which to begin our Albany adventures.  Happy Birthday Lizzie!

DENMARK - A QUICK TOUR OF THE TOWN (6 NOVEMBER 2014)

By any standards, Denmark is a lovely spot. Tall timber, green rolling hills, lush grazing lands, wineries, the Denmark River and, from a more salty perspective, the wonderful waters of the Wilson Inlet and the beautiful beaches of the nearby coast....this place has much to offer.  We were certainly glad that we had stayed beyond the Albany 100 weekend. With all that we had been up to, I left my meander around the town until the last minute. 

There is almost no outlook in Denmark from which tall trees are not a feature of the scene. The approach into town from Albany is no exception. 

The road bridge over the Denmark River provides a first glimpse of the main street of the Denmark CBD and 

of the black, reflecting waters of the Denmark River as it flows towards its mouth at the Wilson Inlet.

Within the town, well designed and utilised parks are a feature of the river banks. Looking to the north from the intersection at the western end of the bridge, we can see one of them.

There is little by way of infrastructure on these banks of the river, where this delightful river bank shelter sits on a sharp bend,

but downstream it is a very different story. Here the serenity of the beautifully kept lawns on the corner













and on the river bank nearby soon give way to 

kiddies corner

and a car park, which on many days is so full of caravans that it looks for all the world like a free camp site. And as you can see, to some of our fellow travellers, designated parking spaces never apply to them. Of course, what they rely on is that the town sheriff will keep his parking ticket book firmly holstered when those so blatantly ignoring the parking rules are off spending their loot in the nearby shops, cafes and pubs.

I find this parking arrogance more annoying when it occurs within no more than fifty metres of a large open space set aside for those towing. Sadly we have come to the conclusion that many of our fellow knights of the road are either lazy, inconsiderate or both.











The town's quite impressive War Memorial occupies the south-western corner of this first main intersection.








Looking west up the incline of the main drag (which is part of the South Coast Highway) the median strip, at the time of our visit, was awash with red poppies, planted specifically for the Anzac Albany celebrations.






Typical of many smallish country towns, Denmark hosts two main commercial strips. The main central through road is obviously one of these. A short walk up the hill from the riverside intersection brings the eager shopper or traipsing tourist to the second. Standing just to the south of the main highway and looking to the north-west across it, where the green slopes provide a leafy backdrop to the twin grey towers of the local Super IGA, the rural charm of Denmark is on show.





Strickland Street is a real example of country commercial charm, where the blandness of bleak, black bitumen has been replaced by far more interesting paving,












and pavement plantings soften the retail landscape.

Arcades abound,














one of which is a veritable botanic park.







What a delightful spot in which to sit and munch on an award winning pie (with sauce, of course). How the second Denmark bakery, a mere hundred metres down the road, survives in the face of the customer lure of this highly self-promoting wall of awards is beyond me. As to the veracity of the awards from a consumer perspective.....concern for the ever increasing effects of carbs on the waist-line prevented a comparative taste test and a first hand opinion....we shall just have to accept the judges verdict.

Our first impressions of Denmark were that it is quite small. This was soon dispelled as we ventured far and wide into the surrounding countryside on our various sight-seeing sorties. This is a town which spreads. Pockets of rural suburbia pop up unexpectedly in all directions. 





And, if our observations of the local populace are any indication, Denmark has a lot in common with places like Murwillumbah. Dreadlocks and a mode of dress reminiscent of the hippy era are not uncommon sights. Ads for yoga and mediation classes, various exotic forms of massage and practices such as aroma therapy, all feature heavily on community notice boards. We were not entirely surprised to hear on the local news services recently that Mr Plod had conducted some highly productive drug raids in the area.









Some of the shops in Strickland Street are obviously 

set up to attract a certain non-mainstreet clientele.












In the delightful paradox which is Denmark, shops like these sit almost side by side 










with their complete commercial antitheses such as the Australian Alpaca Centre where the goods on offer are exquisite, and not for the financially faint-hearted. 

For those with far more mundane requirements on their shopping lists, the somewhat bland exterior of the Denmark Co-operative Pty Ltd building opposite should not deter a visit.

Here one steps through the front door into a genuine, old fashioned country emporium, the likes of which we had not seen since we ventured into the claustrophobic clutter and chaos which is Searles of Winton.









But, like Searles, the range of goods on sale here is extraordinary. Clothing, foot ware, crockery, cutlery, cookware, essential items for bathroom, kitchen, laundry and loo, are all on display in a mass of merchandise.  It's almost daunting!



Dotted throughout the CBD, Denmark presents an array of high quality restaurants, cafes, coffee shops and take-away food shops, all waiting to tempt the hungry passer-by. 

One of the two town pubs looks out over the Denmark River. With all the socialising we had done with Cooky and Co, we did not feel the urge or need to grace this establishment,

but we did briefly visit the Denmark Tavern at the other end of town. Stupidly I forgot to take the camera and have had to rely on this Internet Google photo (and not a very good one at that) to provide some idea of the bush setting of this popular place.



Denmark is certainly commercially geared to tourism, with good reason. The scenery, wineries, river and beaches provide something for every taste. Not surprisingly, the town hosts a very large visitor information centre which we did visit but did not snap. But for any coming to the area for the first time, I would strongly recommend this as a place to start. 

Let me conclude this very brief snapshot of Denmark with a couple of completely contrasting natural scenes.




We walked the kilometre or so from our park into town on a number of occasions, a stroll which took us along a section of Hollings Road were it bisects swampy backwaters of the Denmark River. Here the profusion of paperbarks

and still, black waters from which they rise, reminded me of the Louisiana bayou....I was constantly expecting to see the semi-submerged snout of an ambushing alligator.














And just beyond this eerie swamp, a large tree, bursting into flower, looking for all the world as though its upper section has been dusted with icing sugar. 







But enough of this imaginary indulgence. It was time to leave Denmark......in more ways than one.

Storm clouds were rolling in over the Wilson Inlet and the wind was beginning to gust ominously from the west. 





I was more than happy I had pulled down the van in preparation for our departure the following morning. With the shade cloth stowed and the awning rolled, there was nothing to flap and bang. I was totally unconcerned about what the night would bring.




This was a just as well...a good sleep was in order. We had a busy day in store on the morrow.