After the ritz of Kiama our next destination was to be somewhat more earthy as we drove 1 1/2 hours south to the Rustic Caravan Park at Bendalong. Surrounded by the Conjola National Park I was surprised to find a dog friendly site in the area. There's not a lot of online info on the park and we most likely would have missed the place if not for the magic of the wikicamps app (best $2.99 I've ever spent). Not so magical was our navman which again took us on a wild goose chase in the search for our new digs, eventually requesting the assistance from some locals for directions.
The park is quite unique - a 1km dirt road leads to a bush style camp, mostly permanent sites littered amongst the trees. Actually, 'littered' is an apt description of the junkyard-like site with old canoes, electrical appliances & seemingly discarded items lying about haphazardly (pushbikes a particular favourite). It does have a certain charm though and the absence of other guests gives it a peaceful quality. I found some professional photographs of the park online here so I didn't bother with photography myself much although I did take one that captured my eye.
The park was not the main attraction but to visit some old school mates. First on the list was Matt and his lovely family. Tomoko and I first visited here back in 09' for the wedding and felt the few days we spent here were too few. I hadn't been in contact recently and had to rely on my fading memory to find their place. They live in Manyana. It's not a large town and I figured if I drove around long enough I would eventually spot it. It wasn't long till I was confident I had found the right street but couldn't for the life of me find their place - even getting out of the ute and walking down a good length of it. I began to doubt myself & as I drove back in the opposite direction I spotted it, obscured behind some trees. I walked down the driveway & surprised Matt's wife, Naomi who was painting in the garage. Matt wasn't in but Tomoko and I had dinner with them that night and we were introduced to their son Charlie, a nicer kid you would never meet. They put on a sumptuous feast of fresh crayfish, oven cooked chips & home grown salad.
During dinner I had thrown out a few feelers (much like a crayfish) to Matt that I was keen to go for a dive should the conditions be suitable and in a couple of days time that's exactly what we did. The day before I had pulled out a nice car park flathead out of Berringer Lake, behind the caravan park in a half hour soft plastic session. I had a couple of undersized ones as well but in keeping with the tone of my latest fishing adventures had to be content with just the one keeper. That night a soreness began festering in my throat. I knew I was coming down with something but the promise of more fresh crays was too tempting. The voice of common sense suggested that I rest up for the day but the adventurer in me said bugger it - I'm getting out there.
Luckily being accompanied by an experienced local I wasn't required to do my usual research and reconnaissance as Matt showed me one of his favourite haunts. Never having tackled crayfish before I was suitably unprepared and as we geared up I had to inform Matt that I had no catch bag, dive knife and just the one glove (that I found one day at the North Creek boat ramp). It was obvious a lot of the heavy lifting was to be done by him.
The water was a comfortable temperature and very clear. I quickly saw there were no shortage of urchins (mental note to get some later) and large fields of kelp danced in the current. There were a few fish, mostly wirrahs and at one point Matt pointed out a large black ray gliding past (though I was later to discover it was a small one). I watched Matt's technique as he dived down, waving away clumps of kelp in search of crays & I followed suit. Not surprisingly, Matt was the first to spot one. It had lodged itself deep in a crevice and he was immersed in the task of coaxing it out. Meanwhile, I had spotted a large feeler protruding from under a shallow ledge and after being washed away by a wave lost the location. I told Matt that I had spotted one and continued my search. To me the terrain all looked pretty similar in the seas of kelp and as I was still looking for the cray when Matt surfaced with my target in his hand. Our bag (yes ours...I'm claiming a spotters fee) now had two and I felt it was only a matter of time before we reached our bag limit of 4.
We continued snorkelling south along the headland and it was some time before I again saw the pulse raising sight of a pair of feelers, signifying my prey. My first ever attempt was a clumsy effort as I blindly reached my gloved left hand under a ledge only to see him scurry a short distance. He was still close though, hiding behind a clump of kelp and I could see the wariness in his eyes as I lunged at him again. He was better prepared this time and easily escaped my reach. Again though he didn't wander far and I could see him seeking refuge behind another bit of kelp. A deep breath & I dived down determinedly only to see that he had vanished. Matt meanwhile had caught another one but released it as it was undersize.
We swam a fair distance to the next spot and Matt retrieved an abalone. I inspected it's size and description & our focus switched to them. It wasn't long till I found a monster and I reached down to grab it only to feel it vacuum seal itself to the rock. I tried several times to reef it off but the only thing likely to give way was my shoulder. By this stage Matt had swum some distance and I begrudgingly let it be. I found two more good sized ones after that but the result was the same. Matt meanwhile was having success dislodging them with his knife & my role was reduced to carrying the measuring stick.
We ended up at the most seaward point where conditions were quite rough & I was somewhat relieved to see Matt point towards the shore. It was the furthest I had probably ever snorkelled in a single session, my legs were starting to cramp and the fatiguing effects of my impending cold were beginning to take hold. Matt begin climbing up a vertical rock face & I was silently thinking 'bloody hell - I didn't bring any rock climbing gear'. As It turned out it was only a short climb but then Matt nearly stood on a small black snake it seemed that the walk back to the car park would be more perilous than any feared shark attack in the water. As we made our way through the bush we disturbed a kangaroo and her joey & it hopped off into some trees & it wasn't long till we made it safely back to the car.
Matt showed me his secret abalone shucking technique and gave us the whole bounty of 2 crays & 4 abalone. Arriving back at camp & presenting these to Tomoko you could have mistaken her for a lottery winner - dancing and singing throughout the afternoon & evening in anticipation of a seafood feast. She reckoned one of these abalone is more than she has had in her entire life so she was understandably excited. Seeing an opportunity for some more diving gear I mentioned to Tomoko that a cray bag & abalone knife would be a necessity for any future catches and she acquiesced immediately, not even bothering to go through the usual negotiation process.
While Tomoko was on cloud nine, the days exertions & oncoming cold had me in a less festive mood. I was pretty drained of energy & went to bed early only to wake up feeling pretty crook. So much so that I barely ventured away from the bed that day. The next week or so proved uneventful as I battled my man flu but I was able to catch up on some much needed sleep, something that's been eluding me for the past few years. Tomoko was also struck down with the virus and we spent a few sick days together. Her immune system is more robust than mine however and thankfully she recovered after just a few days.
As I began to feel a bit healthier I gradually incorporated some light activities into my day - a drive to Milton here, a stroll in the forest there & some light fishing excursions. Matt had mentioned some nice whiting being caught in Lake Conjola so one afternoon I took my yabby pump down there for a go. It's very picturesque & protected in a northerly - a lovely spot to spend a sunny afternoon. Matt had earlier directed me to a yabby spot and though not as plentiful as what I'm used to, eventually caught 30 nippers. The waters of the lake were very clear, lacking depth & after trying several locations, settled on a slightly deeper section. It was still very shallow though, so I sat down on the sandy bank so as to avoid spooking my target. As I sat & watched surfers in the distance tackling the famous Green Island left hander & promised myself a session out there when I'm sufficiently recovered. In a short period of time I was pleased to catch two legal whiting among a handful of undersized ones. A nearby fisherman standing on the shore in a fluro green high vis vest was not surprisingly less successful.
I followed up the following day with an early morning Manyana Beach session. I passed a local fisho who had just returned from my intended destination reporting not so much as a bite so I changed plans and fished the edge of some rocks with some beach worms kindly donated by Matt. Among the snags and wirrahs I ended up with another whiting to supplement the ones caught the previous day.
As my health gradually returned my thoughts turned to catching up with another high school buddy, Craig 'Murdy' Murdoch. He lives in nearby Ulladulla with his family of girls. Not having his phone number, I messaged him on Facebook and was happy to see he was keen to catch up with a night of watching rugby league. I hadn't seen him since Matt's wedding as well and it was good to fill in the gaps of the past few years, reminisce old times and catch up on the latest gos. Despite Manly playing, footy took a back seat to the evening and I wasn't too disappointed with the narrow 4 point loss to the Bulldogs. Being a gracious host Murdy didn't openly revel in Manly's misfortune but being a Sharks supporter I suppose he was in no position to give any cheek about footy results.
With the man flu becoming just a memory my activity levels rose. A surfed a fun peak in small but pristine conditions at back beach one sunny morning. Matt & I had a beach worming session, pulling out some fat beach worms. I was in better form than usual with a much higher success rate. Maybe a bit of Matt's skill was rubbing off on me.
Late afternoon we fished a rocky outcrop for black drummer - my first ever rock fishing in fact. Rock fishing is one of the most dangerous sports out there and I admit to being a touch nervous, one eye constantly on the ocean looking for that freak wave. It was fun though & really felt alive in those moments. Something that was not feeling alive for much longer was a cracking drummer which Matt landed after a brief but challenging fight. I wasn't as successful but was happy with a couple of small ones. One appeared to be legal size but with plenty of potential fillets off Matt's one was pleased to release it.
At dawn the following day we backed up to chase more whiting in the shadows of Green Island. Matt landed a 40cm beauty early in proceedings but a southerly buster soon swept over us. The rain started to teem down & whilst I have had some good sessions in the rain, fishing into the gusty wind wasn't doing us any favours. We ventured around the point to shelter from the wind & I snagged a decent one before we pulled up stumps.
The southerly wind however provided calm conditions at the north-facing Bendalong boat ramp, a perfect setting to hand feed the local stingrays. Years ago fisherman began feeding them and they have since become a local attraction. I cut up some pillies & entered the shallows waiting for them to pass as they did laps of the beach. Once they spot you, they're not shy & if your not careful waves will wash them over your feet. Tomoko wasn't keen to get too close, she & Shaka looking on from a safe distance.
Like many places along the east coast a southerly change often coincides with a spike in swell. Matt & I found a wave at Flat Rock, a 3 foot left hander breaking on the edge of a rock platform. It was a tricky wave & you never really knew what to expect once on them. Some would close out immediately while on others you could get a couple of turns in before the wave fattened up in the channel. Still...there was a friendly vibe from the handful of surfers in the lineup & I felt better for the paddle.
At dawn the following day, back beach greeted us with offshore conditions & a solid south swell. Matt was already in the water & it looked double overhead on the sets. I immediately knew it was out of my league. My growing paddling strength had dissolved during my period of illness & I could only see visions of me floundering in the whitewash. I decided to leave Matt to it & begin the task of packing up as we were due to depart the following day. Later in the afternoon, the majority of preparations complete, I returned for another surf check. There was no one out & I saw a couple of cracking left handers peel down the line. It still looked solid but difficult to tell how much so with no surfers in the water to make a comparison. I decided to give it a whirl and as I paddled out on my 5'7" soon realised it was much bigger than I thought & my fitness was in for a real test. There was a strong rip out the back which made it impossible to maintain a position in the lineup without constantly paddling against it. When a set did approach I found that I was too knackered to catch a wave & it wasn't long till I made it back to the beach.
Eventually our time here came to an end and we said our farewells. What was initially to be a 3 day blitzkrieg turned into an almost 3 week layover & despite the consistent lack of hot water in the caravan park amenities we enjoyed our time here immensely. By this time I had hoped to explore the entire south coast but in the end barely scratched the surface. The rest will have to wait for another time. Until then...adios amigos.