Everything old is new again

My Dad is not only famous for parenting Yours Truly, he is also father of the Croc sandal wearing revolution. The many young toes clad these days in rubber are maybe not a direct copy of Don McWatters's tootsies but he was the first person I saw wearing them - his boatie's eye for function over form in water resistant shoes unfazed by my Mum's disdain for frankly ugly footwear. Possibly he is not even aware the esteem he holds for those funny sandals is shared by so many youngsters. 

My own five dollars a foot imitation Crocs recently gave out just as Cyclone Bianca and the following dreary weather halted our eastward march (previously detailed in not so recent posts - apologies for the lack of updates, we seem to be either always out of coverage or despite studious attempts, just not organised enough.) 

Note the time in the photo - Irony, thy name is Jean.

Instead we turned westward, revisiting old haunts around Margaret River – not so far from Perth. Amazing what extra nooks and crannies we have found in areas we had visited many times before. Of course, exploring nooks and especially crannies requires adequate footwear and as you can see when I switched from Croc clones to my backup I underwent a simultaneous wardrobe failure of both thongs that would have made Janet blush.

Yeah, I fell over. 

Luckily this was not going down the to the beach at Torndirrup National Park near Albany Wind Farm. Cameron's estimate: 500 stairs. Jean's disbelieving count: 508 stairs. I assume the error is in the counting.

Luckily also my foot fault did not occur on the longish walk from Hamelin Bay to Cosy Corner near Augusta.

Everything old is new again. Busselton Jetty has been under refurbishment for as long as I can remember so it was with fresh eyes indeed that we went for a snorkel along the first part of its immense length.

Not to mention I'd never before seen so may blue manna crabs just beckoning from the ocean floor. In my youth in Queensland I spent many hours messing with dillies and crab pots which are illegal in WA. It had never occurred to me I could just don a face mask and swoop down and pick them up. (If you have a disbelieving look on your face right now then you probably look a bit like Jean looked when I unveiled this plan – especially when I said I would not wear fins to give the crabs a sporting chance.) For the record, those little suckers really hurt when they grab hold of your thumb – and yes, hanging upside-down at three metres depth holding your breath and fighting with a crab you can still hear your wife laughing through her snorkel up on the surface. Also for the record I estimate that Jean has eaten about eighteen fish and one blue manna crab in comparison without having cleaned and gutted an estimated total of zero of any species since we've been on this trip - but I am not bitter.

Speaking of bitter - Augusta Lighthouse is well known to us from previous trips down south but the new discovery for me was the Augusta ale house and its similarly excellent views.

There are of course two impressive lighthouses in the area and another well worn path for us has been between Dunsborough and the lighthouse at Cape Naturaliste. Somehow we never previously visited Sugarloaf Rock and its impressive Harry Potter scape guarded by the lion, the rabbit, the horse and the eagle.

And we had never snorkelled in the miraculously clear waters of Point Picquet. 

But now we are almost back to new is new again – well at least for this trip. We did do a lot of this 10 years ago come to think of it. In any case we are happily back in the land of marron and heading east once more.

As for footwear I could do worse than follow in my father's footsteps. Check out my new six dollars a foot Sharx for the latest in rubber feet wearing technology. Sorry Mum.

See ya on the eastern front. 

Where are the fish?

Cameron's been spending a lot of time with the fishing rod on this trip. (Yes thanks, I've recovered from the fishhook in the finger incident. And no, I don't go anywhere near Cameron now whilst he's wielding a fishing rod.)

So the question is often asked: Where are the fish?? Well, we've been to a lot of lovely waterways, but apparently - despite what the experts might say - there are no fish in the Collie River. Big Brook Dam only has a few teeny red-fin perch. There's nothing to be caught off Mandalay Beach in D'entrecasteaux National Park. And Walpole Inlet's “Bream Fishing Spot” is a misnomer.

However, we've just spent a 8 nights camped at Shelley Beach, West Cape Howe National Park (between Denmark and Albany). And... the fish are all here! Fisherman Cam has redeemed himself. Every morning, he'd head down to the beach and he'd bring back herring, cleaned and scaled (this is an important fishing skill that unfortunately I've never mastered). We ate fresh fish every day. Delicious!!

I'm going to nominate Shelley Beach as “Best campsite we've stayed at on this trip (so far)”. The campsites have stunning ocean views. The water was sparkly blue, and though the waves were sometimes a bit dumpy for my liking, the southern corner of the beach was more protected and good for a bit of snorkelling too. You can go for walks in the granite hills surrounding the bay - you could walk all the way to Albany if you wanted to follow the Bibbulmun track to it's end. And there was a never-ending source of fresh water in a stream running down to the beach. (Remember we're in a National Park campground – so it's BYO fresh water. And loo paper for the pit loos.)

It was a Paradise that we didn't want to leave, but we were starting to run low on supplies (despite Cameron's valiant efforts to top up the larder with fresh fish and we were onto the last inch of our zucchini of mass destruction),and the weather reports were warning of Cyclone Bianca.

So we've moved onto Albany. Where so far, the fishing has not been so good. So far, Cameron has only caught a seagull.
Hope everyone is taking care with the dreadful weather we're having around the world.