If you can't catch fish you can always take out Chinese...

Food provisioning for a trip like this is an art form, or maybe more like theatre than art – or in our case a kind of tragic comedy. We had barely taken our “we're off on a slow trip to Brisbane” photo before we struck our first hurdle or rather before it struck us – more of an old guy backing his ute out of the shopping centre car park without looking than a hurdle really.

In the spirit of Christmas as well as battle fatigue from just having our Engel fridge repaired under warranty we decided to let the old guy off the hook (a soon to be recurring theme) rather than mess around with insurance and what not. With the Engel humming under load of the just-before-Christmas left-overs it was time to hit the road. (Thanks to my freshly shorn cousin Den and better half Tina for all the delicious food).

(Den shows the sort of style you can achieve if you cut your own hair for Christmas)

 Less than 24 hours later relaxing in Lane Poole Reserve it occurred to me I was being overly optimistic when I remarked what a good job the solar cells were doing as the charge on our house battery soared.

  

Sure enough the trusty Engel had once again gone into retirement. This at least gave us an excuse for a real Christmas feast as we attempted to eat everything before it spoiled. Being between towns of any size and bang in the middle of the Christmas break it was going to be some time before we got to look an icy cold beer in the eye.

Not to worry – surrounded by beauty – Jean thought we might be able to eat some of the stuff dripping off the trees

or perhaps apply for a marron license. We were seeing lots of them in the streams.  Of course there's always noodles....

On to Wellington National Park near Collie.

We found a beautiful natural spa and nearly solved the food problem as well because for a while there it seemed I was going to die of starvation going round and round in that little whirlpool – amazingly difficult to get out of.

I did get out eventually - hungry enough to fire up my fishing rod. The fishing rod came with the fridge and it mocks me with its “Engel, a legend in reliability” slogan emblazoned above the reel. Thus far the rod and the fridge are on a par in terms of their food provisioning and every fishing trip to date has been more of a lure retrieval exercise.

Which brings us to today's fishing trip – and the reason I am close to enough to civilisation to connect to the internet and post this blog.

Having proven there are no fish in the Collie river below the Wellington Dam we thought we should try upstream. I was tying a trace to my line when I managed to get the lure snagged in my nylon shorts. It was one of those tri-hooks that have been sharpened using nuclear lasers or something and able to catch just about everything but fish. Unable to disentangle myself I called upon Jean to help out. Still no luck with my shorts removed and Jean's fingers in there as well it was time to break out the pliers and rip that sucker out of there. Predictable really – you are probably already thinking this ends with Cameron passed out with a mild concussion and Jean in the hospital. No photos I'm afraid for this part of the story but the sequence goes something like this...

1. One of the tri-hooks breaks under the pliers and the other wedges itself deeply into Jean's finger.
2. Cameron cuts the line off the lure, says I think we we will need to go to the doctor's.
3. Taking charge of the situation Cameron examines Jean's finger, faints and hits the ground like a ton of bricks.
4. According to reliable witnesses a full five seconds pass in which Cameron actually snores with his eyes open, pupils dilating wildly before coming back to life in the genuine hope that it was all just a dream.
5. Any number of smirking doctors and nurses later the lure is finally retrieved (for a second one of the nurses almost joins to Jean via the other hook).
6. Reflecting later on just how easy it is to buy a McDonald's breakfast compared to other ways of collecting food Cameron finds part of the broken tri-hook still embedded in a strategically dangerous part of his shorts.
7. Cameron and Jean decide there is no future in lure retrieval, above or below water.

Yes but if we didn't leave we could never meet again

Not sure exactly when we got here (Perth) but it was about 10 years ago by at least as circuitous a route as the one we are leaving by. If you don't include the murder it was a wonderful trip getting here.
Drove from Brisbane to Townsville (Jean's home port), hiked our way along the length of Hinchinbrook Island, sailed Cairns to Broome with my Mum and Dad.






A quick trip to Perth was then enough to convince us to spend the next few years of our life here.


(It was almost Sydney - we'd even sent gear there) Back to Townsville to get the car and a long long drive over several months got us to the sandy city of Perth.

... and soon we are back on the road.

We've built a camper van and are hitting the dusty trail just before Christmas. Thanks to all the wonderful people we've met here - we've had a ball.

See you in Queensland.