After a couple of weeks in Kununurra we were finally ready to continue west. We flirted with the idea of visiting the Bungle Bungles but heard the road was in poor condition & in fact had only just closed. Also in the vicinity is the Wolfe Creek meteorite crater, the setting for the chilling Aussie horror film of the same name, Wolf Creek. It too was tempting but is accessed by 150km of poorly maintained road. I can also imagine the menancing laugh of John Jarrett haunting me in my sleep. It was all academic in the end as a bushfire swept through the area, shutting the gate. So the exotic pearling town of Broome it was.
We were on the road early as we wanted to chew off a fair chunk of kilometres between us & Broome. Around midday we received a message that Shaka had arrived in Perth for his cremation. It gave us some solace knowing that we had all left Kununurra on the same day. We drove in hourly shifts, passed through Halls Creek & Fitzroy Crossing & made camp by a lake off the highway. We knocked over 750kms, a good joint effort. The next morning we completed the remaining 300kms before settling in at some unconventional lodgings. We received a tip from fellow travellers, Fay & Ray that a Broome businessman has a couple of sites in the industrial estate just out of town. Christopher let us park our van here with power, water & small amenitites block for just $25 a night. With the average asking price for a site in the surrounding caravan parks around the $45 mark it was an easy way to stretch the budget.
On arrival, we found our new neighbours to be Trevor & Lisa, a couple of professional gypsies we have crossed paths with in Darwin & Kununurra. They have Rusty, the 11 year old kelpie we looked after for a day in Kununurra & we certainly enjoyed being reunited with him. We even had a tenative offer to look after him on a full time basis. Trev & Lisa had just been offered jobs at the Cygnet Bay Pearl Farm at Cape Leveque, 200kms north of Broome but were told they couldn't take him & we were sounded out as possible carers. Despite our affection for Rusty we declined. Shaka's passing has inadvertently given us access to the amazing national parks of WA & it would be remiss of us to let the opportunity slip. Besides we would be so paranoid about him succumbing to the effects of 1080 poison they use for fox baiting over here, I doubt Rusty would rarely see the outside of the caravan. Fortunately for Rusty, his presence was accepted by their new employers & they left later in the week. We did have plans to witness the rugged beauty that Cape Leveque offers but somehow this opportunity did pass us by.
As with all new places we visit I like to get an early feel for the fishing conditions & if I thought the 7 metre tides of Darwin was a challenge, fishing the 10 metre tides in Broome seemed downright impossible. The logical option was to fish the town's jetty, known to harbour some thumpers that can spool you in the time it takes to set your drag. Dissapointingly, it was closed for maintenance so I spent time flicking lures off the rocks at low tide, managing a mixed bag of species - cods, jacks & queenies but none of them large enough to bother reaching for the measuring tape.
Fishing is not the only tide dependant activity in Broome. When the tide reaches lower than 2 metres, 130 million year old dinosaur footprints can be seen in the rocks at Gantheaume Point. My favourite time of day is dawn & it coincided with a low tide of 1.1m. Tomoko & I were the first tourists on the scene. We began to descend down a rocky cliff, Tomoko soon bailing on the mission & leaving me to continue on my own. I had a basic mud map showing their location but didn't really know what I was looking for, every hole or mark on the reef a potential footprint. I searched the shoreline in vain for a good twenty minutes, doubt began to creep in if I would ever find them....and there they were. In fact they couldn't be any more distinct if there was a bright & colourful neon sign pointing down at them saying "DINOSAUR FOOTPRINTS HERE". As the sun rose higher a steady stream of sightseers began to arrive. The tide had now turned, rapidly closing the window where they would be visible. They were fortunate I had already done the grunt work locating them & it wasn't yet an issue but the same could not be said for those I passed still lingering in the car park.
Not far from the footprints is a series of rocky cliffs. At high tide the turquoise waters of the Indian Ocean blend pleasantly with the red pindan soil of the Kimberley.
No trip to Broome would be complete without hanging out on iconic Cable Beach & even more so, taking the obligatory camel ride. Tomoko decided not to, believing it's cruel for the camels. Not me though. I reckon a couple of leisurley strolls down the beach each day is an easy gig for the dromedaries. The sunset ride is the most popular one but at a third of the price, I was all over the $30 pre-sunset tour. Being out of peak season there were plenty of vacant camels and luckily I was on the front one, Malachi. Once mounted, he wasn't too keen to stand up though & it took some cajoling by the guide before he begrudgingly rose, raising me 6 metres into the air. At the time of booking you are asked for your weight. I gave them a conservative 78kg & by Malachi's protestations I got the sense he was thinking "if he's only 78kg then I'm not a large, even-toed ungulate with one hump on my back!". The camel behind me was called Mustafa, & he was a very friendly soul. As we began to walk he nuzzled up against me, giving my leg the odd lick and making himself right at home by my side. The guide said he has poor spatial awareness but I reckon he just took a shine to me. The ride itself was quite relaxing. The camel walks in a manner where the front and back legs on the same side move forward together. This gives a rolling motion, a sensation not unalike being on a boat in a slight swell. I guess that's why they call them 'ships of the desert', though I always thought it was because they are full of Arabian seamen. Boom...tish!
I was chatting to one of the guides during the ride. He boasted that Nick Nack Nui was coming on the next tour. Bemused, I asked him what on earth is a Nick Nack Nui? Well...apparently he is a gun AFL player for the West Coast Eagles. When the tour had ended and I was on my way back to the car, I passed a large bloke with a good set of dreadlocks & wondered if that was him. Sure enough, a google search of 'West Coast Eagles players' brought up the familar face of midfielder, Nic Naitanui. Tomoko & I returned a short time later to drive down Cable Beach & watch the sunset. I spotted my old compadre Malachi, who this time had Mr Naitanui astride. I cracked a smile imaging the fuss Malachi must have kicked up when faced with the weight of the much heavier footballer on his back.
Well thats all for now...until our next adventure...adios amigos.