After all the partying and fishing at Port Denison it was time for a spot of local history. The nearby Geeenough historical village beckoned. Now under the control of the National Trust, this did prove to be a place of considerable interest.
En route, we took the road past the famous Hampton Arms Inn. This watering hole was built in 1863 to cater for both travellers through the then expanding region and for the needs of the settlers who had moved to the area to take up the 20 - 30 acre farming lots on offer on the Greenough Flats.
In more modern times, this establishment has become a destination for gastronomes keen to indulge in the fare on offer, which by all account, is more than passable. According to our park neighbours, who did 'do lunch' at the Hampton Arms, the curry and steak and the Guinness pie were first class, but sadly the state of the premises themselves did not match the quality of the produce of the kitchen. It would seem that the owner is past it as far as maintenance goes. We decided a quick look in passing would suffice.
The Greenough historical village is a completely different matter. Here the good folk of the National Trust have done a wonderful job in preventing the surviving buildings of the township from quietly sliding into irreparable decay. They now maintain this important piece of WA history for posterity.
The Greenough Flats area was first explored by George Grey in 1839. He named the district after then then President of the London Royal Geographical Society, one Sir George Bellas Geenough, and commented in his journal that this area had the potential to become "the granary of Western Australia".
There is no doubt that the surrounding countryside is ideally suited for cropping and grazing, as we discovered in our travels through this area and further north. Greenough itself, however, did not fare so well.
A formal survey of the area in 1857 resulted in lots of 20 -30 acres being laid out and offered to settlers to the district. This was typical of the English thinking of the time in terms of the requisite size of a sustainable farm, something we now recognise as impractical in the Australian climate.
But come they did, with hope and a willingness for hard work. Between 1863 and the end of the century a small township sprang up on the the 'Flats' to provide the necessary infrastructure for the burgeoning community.
As this overview photo shows, little now remains of what was once a flourishing small town. No amount of hard work and spirit can overcome the forces of nature. The area was first ravaged by a cyclone in 1872, and, given that it was built on the low lying plains between the coastal sand hills to the west and the rocky escarpment to the east, the inevitable happened in 1888 when the township was devastated by a massive flood. Many died and a great number of the township buildings were relocated to higher ground.
As if this was not enough, further floods, and paradoxically, the effect of drought and fire, together with the irresistible pull created by the discoveries of gold, meant that by the early 1900's most of the original population had left Greenough Flats. The township survived for some years beyond that, but the inevitable pressures of large scale farming and improved transport and machinery meant that the town was abandoned and was sliding into oblivion until the National Trust stepped forward.
Visitors enter the village though the restored building which now serves as the interpretive centre and, of course, cafe and souvenir shop, where for a very moderate fee of $5.00 the obliging staff provide an informative map and copious advice.
In the front room of the visitor centre we found one of the most unusual presentations ever....a map of the district superimposed on the walls and floor. Very clever.
Fees duly paid and map in hand, we wandered out beyond the outdoor cafe area
and past the outdoor dunny with its attendant peppercorn tree, a combination which, for some reason I have never been able to fathom, can be found all over country Australia. What a reminder of the home of my youth in Port Lincoln.
Nearby we came across one of the unofficial symbols of this district, a 'leaning tree'. This part of the WA is not known as the 'windy coast' for nothing.
In fact, in one of the village buildings is a photo of a prime example of a leaning tree. We had
previously driven past this arboreal oddity which stands/lies in a field just off the Brand Highway. Apparently it is one of the most photographed natural objects in the West....we were prevented from stopping and joining the throng by the press of traffic at the time.
And then, before we even began to peer into the buildings of Greenough, another surprise. Alpacas and llamas.....of course....what else would you expect to find in an historical village? They were hard at it. The recent rains had done wonders in greening the countryside and our four legged locals were well into their breakfasts. We had previously been less than enamoured by the downpours of Anzac Day and beyond, but were now thankful that we were not tramping across dry and dusty expanses between the buildings of Greenough.
Every community needs a school. In fact, we have noticed in our travels that the development of a local school is a real sign of community permanence, irrespective of the modest buildings in which many were housed. This was one of six similar schools which existed in the region during its heyday.
Every community needs a school. In fact, we have noticed in our travels that the development of a local school is a real sign of community permanence, irrespective of the modest buildings in which many were housed. This was one of six similar schools which existed in the region during its heyday.
The equally modest interior was obviously fit for purpose
as this photo of the school community shows. I do shudder a little when we visit these old schools....I can clearly remember sitting at the type of desk now considered antique!
Despite the happy faces of this period shot, a wall sign in the classroom did hint of varied enthusiasm amongst those who should have been engaged in the quest for knowledge.
Or perhaps it is merely a reflection of sloppy record keeping....I suspect the former rather than the latter.
Interestingly the community did not sprout its own pub. The Hampton Arms Inn was obviously sufficient to cater for the local need. But in 1870 work did begin on the Geeenough Police Station, Gaol and Courthouse. This is a substantial building and at first blush one would think that the folk of the Greenough Flats were a particularly unruly lot. Not so. With an uncommon application of common sense, the building was designed to be multi-purpose.
There were only five cells, and all of them for for short term use only until prisoners could be transferred to the Geraldton Gaol. Of these, four were used for white prisoners and the fifth for aboriginal miscreants (who were actually chained to the walls unlike their white counterparts).
The building complex served a variety of purposes, all associated with government services. The Courtroom also provided a venue for meetings of the original Greenough Road Board (the equivalent in those days of a local shire council)
whilst other rooms were used as the police station/charge room, a retiring room for both the Magistrate and visiting doctor
and quarters for the police sergeant, constables and teachers, which from what we could see, were basic to say the least.
Meals for both the staff and the prisoners were all prepared in the kitchen located next to the sleeping quarters
whilst the police horses were housed in fine style in the stables at the rear of the building.
Water was drawn from the 22 metre deep well dug in the rear exercise yard by 'ticket of leave' men, former convicts who had been granted parole.
This is an impressive building by any standards. Its thick walls and extraordinarily high ceilings were designed to counter the heat of the summer. Heavens knows how the occupants managed to keep the place warm in winter.
The spiritual needs of the inhabitants of the Flats were more than adequately catered for. St Catherine's Church opened it doors to those of the Anglican persuasion when, in 1913, it replaced the original iron and timber building used for services. It continues as a place of worship to this day,
as does the Catholic Church, St Peter's, although we are not sure if the resident llama attends the services, or merely greets the arriving faithful at the door.
This remains a charming church and provides a fine venue for those who chose to worship here. Use of the building for weddings is apparently still popular. With a location like this and the ability to hold the reception in the nearby restaurant complex, we could understand why.
Unsurprisingly, the building adjacent to the Catholic Church was used as a convent.
As we wandered through this building I was taken by some of the photos on display. This one in particular caught my eye.
They may be a touch difficult to read in this shot, so let me list the last names of the sisters...Grogan, Ryan, Corcoran, Cody and Hanrahan. An Irish connection here somewhere perhaps?
The inhabitants of the Greenough Flats were a social lot by all accounts as we discovered when we took a look inside St Catherine's Hall which lies just to the north of the church of the same name and the very unpretentious Road Board building.
The social reputation of the farming population and others who lived in the area is proclaimed loudly on this hoarding, which is a direct quote from the Geraldton Express, 25 November 1898. Good on them I say. Nothing like a good knees-up to put aside the aches and pains of the very hard work in which they were all engaged and the worry of making ends meet.
There are a number of other surviving buildings in the Geenough historical village, but enough history is enough. It was time to embark on our second planned venture for the day, a visit to Ellendale Pool. This, we had been told, was the location of a particularly pleasant free camp site at a rock pool on the Greenough River under some cliffs. We were keen to check it out for future reference.
So off we went through the tiny township of Walkaway and on up the rise of the hills to the east. Another surprise was in store....the Mumbida wind farm. When one thinks about it however, it is no real surprise to find these rows and rows of wind turbines on the ridges east of the coast. This is windy country almost all year round.
Alinta Energy is keen to show off its venture and have provided a large car park and viewing area
from which we could see west across the Greenough Flats to the coast some 20 kms distant.
Mumbida is a wind farm of substance. It was annoyingly impossible to capture any more than small sections of the ranks upon ranks of turbine towers which marched off along the crest of the hill both north and south from the roadway.
Its stats are equally impressive. The 54 turbine towers of this wind farm stand 80 metres above the ground to the hub of the massive 40 metre blades (each of which weighs in at 7.5 tonnes). As they serenely rotate with the eerie 'swoosh' of each passing blade tip, they produce a total of 89 megawatts of electricity, enough to power 64,000 homes.
And as if the ability to cuddle up to one of the towers is not enough to impress the visitor,
Alinta have bordered the car park with a disused turbine blade, and believe me, they are 40 metres long!
Irrespective of Alinta's undoubted expertise in the production of wind created electrical energy, we did wish that they had employed a sign writer with a better command of spelling, or at least had his or her handiwork checked before the sign went in place. I know, picky tourists...but let's face it...this is not a good look for a company so publicly flogging its wares.
Feeling just a little superior we continued to wend our way eastward through the low scrub country
until we finally reached our destination.....almost!
The recent rains were making their presence felt here at the road ford leading into Ellendale Pool where the waters of the Greenough River were flooding across the pavement.
To say we were somewhat frustrated is an understatement...we were but one kilometre short of our target. Our sense of annoyance was compounded by the fact that there were oodles of spots along the 30 kms or so we had already travelled to get here at which signs advising of the road closure could have been readily erected.
I did actually venture into the water to test the depth with a faint thought of undertaking a crossing. It was quite shallow, as the height marker indicated, but flowing swiftly. Any (stupid) thoughts of testing the capacity of the cruiser to complete a river crossing were very rapidly vetoed in no uncertain terms by the navigator. It think it fair to say she was terse in her rhetorical questions related to just how old I am and the associated comments about what I had or had not learnt in the length time which had passed since I was a silly teenager!
So back we went, only to pass on the bad news to three or four couples towing vans towards what had been their planned overnight stop as we made our way home. They were equally unhappy with both the situation and the lack of pre-warning, but at least we could tell them that there was sufficient room at the ford for vans to be turned about, a fact they were relieved to hear.
Our wonderful stay at Port Denison was almost at an end. But before we go, let's just take in a few final snippets. If the marina and its cosseted fleet of cray boats were not enough to convince a visitor of the importance of this industry to the town, a quick tour of the light industrial area will do the trick. Here, under the shadow of the encroaching sand hills, shed after shed
and boat
after boat line the back streets, all in the embrace of the huge mobile stands on which they are towed from the waterfront.
And here one can also find evidence of the infrastructure needed to support the off shore oil rig, which can been seen on the horizon from the obelisk on a clear day.
The rig is serviced by this tender which moored opposite the fish cleaning station. We had been interested to watch a large crane loading the spool of flexible piping onto the deck of this solid craft the previous evening and equally impressed by the fact that this vessel went to sea irrespective of conditions.
There is money in cray fishing, believe me, if the houses in which many of the local fishermen live are a guide. This edifice stood directly opposite our park
as did this somewhat more modest abode sandwiched between its two storey neighbours. But what the owners of this home lacked in clout they certainly made up for with humour. Where ever have you previously seen sets of stuffed jeans used as front wall pot plant holders? The owners could often be found relaxing with a beer or two on a warm afternoon in the two chairs at the edge of the wall.....they were genuine characters and every passer-by would stop for a chat.
But for us it was off to Geraldton again, this time to have more equipment fitted the cruiser, a wheel alignment, and to launch a major assault on Woollies, IGA and various bottle stores to replenish the larder and the grog cupboard. We knew that our next planned destination of Horrocks Beach is seriously challenged in the logistics department, and as it transpired, it was even more so than we had expected.
Let's leave Port Denison with a golden sunset, one of many we had enjoyed.
Warmer climes continue to beckon. Horrocks, Kalbarri, Shark Bay, Carnarvon, Coral Bay, Exmount, Onslow, Karratha, Port Headland etc etc. We are still heading north to goodness knows where.
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