Tasks done, we were off again. With 25 psi in the rear suspension air bags, the cruiser took the weight of the van with ease. We were perfectly level again. Whilst this had not been a real issue at this point, I had been concerned to ensure that once we filed our water tanks for places much further north, we would not be dragging our tail like a duck with the extra 180 kilos on board.
The countryside north of Geraldton is good agricultural country and it was blossoming as a result of the recent rains. It was lovely to be driving through verdant rolling hills again with the occasional 'breakout', the local name for what would be called a 'jump up' in outback QLD, rearing up on the distant horizon.
Horrocks Beach, our destination for the next week, had come with high recommendations, as had another smaller spot en route, Coronation Beach. As is our want, we decided to check it on the way for future reference.
We were relieved that we had not made Coronation Beach our target for our next stop-over. As we turned left off the highway towards the coast, a sign at the junction proclaimed the park to be full. We had heard that folk have been known to just sit and wait for a spot....surely it can't be that good. We shall see.
The local cockies had obviously been busy in their cropping paddocks either side of the road into Coronation Beach. Everywhere we looked we were greeted with the sight of huge expanses of freshly seeded fields. This whole area is so 'mid-north SA' as to be a little eerie.
And then came the descent to the coast which did not seem quite as challenging as the warning sign predicted, but an extra level of concentration was warranted nevertheless.
The reward for the driving demands of these slopes is always the view, and here we had a bonus.
This magnificent wedge tail eagle fixed us with its steely gaze as we slid by. Its presence really took us by surprise. A 'wedgie' was the last bird of prey we expected to find here. I was really annoyed traffic did not allow us to stop and make more of this opportunity, but am grateful that my 'shoot and hope' photo actually recorded this imperious raptor, and mid shot at that.
Onwards down the slope we went and suddenly the Coronation Beach campsite lay before us.
And it is a campsite as opposed to a caravan park, albeit a pretty sophisticated one in the general scheme of things. The caravan and hut mid shot is actually that of the resident caretaker who keeps an eye on things 'during the season' and collects the $15 per night fees when the grey nomad tsunami floods northwards
Once parked, I clambered up to the lookout on the top of the overlooking ridge in the hope I would be able to gain a good overview.
I was not disappointed. The jumble of the Coronation Beach campsites opened out to the south
and to the north as I panned right, where our rig can be seen in the entry parking area slightly to the right of mid-shot.
The roads throughout Coronation Beach are delightfully haphazard. They were dry on the day of our visit. We did wonder just how the ambiance of this place would alter in the wet. All the sites were numbered, and it appears that this place is now much better organised than has been the case in the past. Showers and toilets are on site, but no water or power...semi-basic!
An inspection of the beach was obviously in order. That's the only reason folk come here year after year and take up occupation for their full 30 day limit. Off down the track I went
to discover that Coronation Beach is a passable plage indeed,
sheltered as it is from the rollers of the Indian Ocean by a reef beyond the inshore channel. This is a fine beach for swimming, kayaking and fishing. Another time perhaps, but only in good weather, and only if a large site becomes available. I had determined during my wander around that we would only fit on about 10% of them.
Out of Coronation Beach we drove, north through the small farming town of Northampton where we again turned our heads west and again rolled through a patchwork scene of the reddish brown of the newly seeded paddocks and the green pastures of the grazing uplands.
Our arrival at Horrocks was nigh. The large houses on the hill overlook the hamlet. Another descent off the limestone escarpment was obviously in store,
as we soon discovered. And here our sense of expectation was heightened as we made our way down to the seaside flats. Would this place be the fishing idyll we had been promised or have we been led into a week of disappointment? And, does the local general store really serve the "best fish and chips on the coast"? (as we had been assured by a fellow camper in Moora).
More on Horrocks, the park, the town, the fishing and the chippo in the next exciting instalment of the MobileMarshies!
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