It was time to begin our descent down the West Oz coast & with plenty of kilometres ahead of us, fled Broome in the dim light of dawn. We headed south on the Great Northern Highway, our target - the Pilbara. She's pretty desolate terrain out here & there's not a lot to keep you interested. The straights are long, the traffic minimal. It's kind of mind numbing & easy to become lost in thought but there's a need to be ever vigilant for the threat of wandering wildlife. Some kangaroos seemingly had a death wish, hopping off the road with great reluctance. We came across a damaged ute on the side of the highway with it's bonnet caved in. The occupants were no longer around & we speculated on the cause. A few metres on, the answer was presented to us in the form of a bloody big cow, belly up on the side of the road. It served as a timely reminder and we relaxed the pressure on the accelerator a touch. As we approached Port Hedland, spiralling vortex's of red dust devils began to appear, adding some interest to the landscape. Though we planned to stay the night in the mining town, it was still relatively early in the day and with our intended destination, Point Samson only another 250km away, decided to push on.
By mid afternoon we reached the sleepy seaside town of Port Samson & checked into the Cove Caravan Park after clocking up a personal best of 820km. There were just a handful of fellow travellers here and for good reason. It was very, very & I'll repeat that...very...hot, as much as 42 degrees. There were few trees here to provide heat relieving shade & we were feeling the full brunt of the sun. On our recent journey from Kununurra to Broome we discovered that our fridge doesn't cope too well while on the road for extended periods in these arid climes. We were forced to dispose of all our meat & dairy so on this occasion we purposely ensured we had no perishables on board. It takes the fridge overnight to sufficiently cool down so lacking groceries and the means to cool them, we dined at the pub that night. It was standard pub fare but not at pub prices. I guess they added a mining tax. The normally cooling effects of night failed to lower the temperature much & the services of the air con was required all evening, keeping us relatively cool.
I went fishing at dawn the next day. The road into town crosses over a causeway & I focused my attention here. For those familiar with the Ballina area it's quite similar to the entrance into Prospect Lake, where the tide forces water through a narrow entrance. Bait fish are catapulted through this entrance to be met by what ever predator waits for them on the other side. These predators (namely mangrove jacks) were to be my prey. The tide was still running out so I positioned myself on the ocean side of the wall & there were baitfish everywhere. Turtles were feeding, stingrays were cruising, everything was happening and I was anticipating a bumper session. Unfortunately, the fishing gods were not kind & I couldn't even garner a bite. The same could not be said for the sandflies who were as violent as much as they were plentiful & it was only the copious amounts of tropical strength Aerogard that kept them at bay. The repellent doesn't keep away the flies though. They were a constant annoyance & failed to listen to my expletive ridden pleas to go away. You know...theres nothing quite as disgusting as pulling a dead fly out of your ear.
After a time the tide turned & I switched my attention to the other side of the causeway. I was absent mindingly flicking a Zerek along the rock wall when I noticed it looked a bit strange. They are quite a durable lure but on closer inspection I realised that without my knowing, something had bitten off it's tail. So close yet so far away. I ventured away from the wall & fished the banks of a mangrove lined creek. There were many baitfish here too & expectation was high but once again not a touch. I saw a croc cruising upstream, turn in my direction for a while before submerging & I decided that was me for the morning. I returned again in the evening & following morning with the same result (or lack thereof). I did drop one though. A rookie mistake by me as my knot became undone. Thats what happens when you tie them in the dark I suppose.
Tomoko & I explored the local surrounds. First stop was a 10km drive to the town of Wickham. Almost exclusively under the ownership of Rio Tinto, the town supports the workforce of the nearby iron ore processing facility at Port Lambert. Short of food supplies, we checked out Woolies & it was everything you would expect from the major chain grocery store, except perhaps for the industrial strength security grates protecting every window pane.
Another 40 minutes and we were in Karratha. It's mine central here - salt, ammonia, gas & the old mainstay of iron ore, all contribute to the local economy. It's quite the metropolitan oasis - supermarkets, restaurants, cafes and the like. A quick stop at the local tackle store to stock up on lures & we headed a short way out of town to the port of Dampier. The main attraction for this kelpie obsessed duo was the statue of the Pilbara Wanderer, or Red Dog. The inspiration for the 2011 film of the same name, Red Dog travelled this remote area bringing good will & happiness to those who crossed his path. Having already visited Casterton's kelpie statue & the 'Dog on the Tucker box' in Gundagai, this was the last of Australia's kelpie monument trifecta . Driving along the esplanade we came across a small gathering of people milling around the suspended body of a very large fish. It was straight out of a scene from 'Jaws' and a bit surreal to see the massive tiger shark hanging by it's tail. It appeared that it may be a record catch, the teenage lass who landed it & her posse waiting for the record determining officials to arrive.
Stocked up with groceries, we returned to the van in the early afternoon. The temperature was again nudging 42 degrees and it was stifling. The air con was failing to produce anything cooler than the ambient temperature & we suspected Port Samson had beaten it into submission. There was no escaping the heat. Sit in the breeze in a shady spot - wind is hot. Have a cold shower - water is warm. Turn on the fan - air is warm. We opted for a swim at the nearby beach. It has the attractive name of Honeymoon Cove but despite the fancy title, its nothing particularly special. It did have coolish water though and we spent some time here cooling down while we waited for the sun to drop. The temperature didn't fall much though, hovering in the high thirties and sleep didn't come easily. I couldn't help but look on longingly at the weather conditions in nearby Exmouth on my Iphone, the current temperature a good 10 degrees cooler.
Weather wise, the next day was a carbon copy of the previous one. Bloody hot. I tried various techniques to stay cool. I went spearfishing around the rocky point in front of the caravan park. I had a couple of lazy shots at some mullet but the tiger shark was still foremost in my mind & I didn't venture too far from the perceived safety of the rocks. A swim in Honeymoon Cove provided some relief (there were some good size bream here...why didn't I bring my gun?). I even entered the air conditioned nirvana of reception under the pretence of browsing their small selection of souvenirs. Poor Tomoko was working in the van, her only respite from the heat provided by two 12 volt fans. Somehow she was coping better than I though & by late afternoon I had succumbed to one of my heat induced migraines. I had recently found a panacea for these headaches in the form of a body cooler, basically a neck wrap filled with polycrystals. It works by cooling the carotid arteries in the neck & work they do. You can see them here. I hadn't experienced a headache since but even it has it's limitations.
By morning the headache was gone & we were packed and outta here early. What initially was to be a 1 week stay was slashed to just 3 days & we were thankful to be on the road again, if only for the comfort of the Navara's air conditioning. Until Exmouth then...adios amigos.