Bet you thought there wasn’t much out here on a day’s drive from Balladonia to the South Australian border. Wrong. We had an exciting day on this very straight road. We got through the longest straight stretch of road on Australia – 145.6km, or 90 miles in the old. In fact, the whole darn thing is straight really.

We camped last night in the bush east of Balladonia, and this morning moved on to explore the caves near Cocklebiddy. Now I have to admit to complete ignorance of these caves, but John assures me everyone’s heard of them. They are not publicised, nor sign posted, so you have to be committed to finding them – which of course we did!

The huge opening to Murra El-Eleveyn Cave

There’s at least a 10m drop into this one, with no steps or ladder to get in. But we read that once you get to the actual opening of the cave, there’s a 300m walk to an underground lake. Now that’s a carrot.

We used the electric winch to lower John, Fergus and Harry into the sinkhole. I volunteered to stay above ground and operate the winch. Someone had to make a sacrifice.

Organising the winch cable to lower themselves down

John fashioned a harness out of some rope to sit in, and used a bike helmet to make them look safe. Ha.  They disappeared underground, and I didn’t even get half way through my new House & Garden magazine before they were yelling to be winched up.

Fergus at the end of the cable being winched back up

In the cave there were puddles so clear and so still that they couldn’t be seen. There was calcified limestone of which Harry brought me back a sample. It had a big open cavern, and the descent was about 50m down under the surface over rock and rubble. Oh, and it was dark. So if you’re passing Cocklebiddy, be sure you have a winch and a torch for an unusual excursion.

We stopped for lunch at Madura Pass, where the view is magnificent.

A glimpse of our wide brown land….and sweeping plains

The wind was insanely strong and we cowered in the lea of the trailer eating our sandwiches while our calves got sandblasted. Not pleasant.

Next up was Eucla. Another roadhouse, but with the added reason to stop of visiting the remains of the Overland Telegraph Station, which may or may not be covered in sand. We tried (and failed) to find a track to the beach to see the remnants of the old jetty. Yes, I hear you say, we should have walked.

Telegraph Station at Eucla in varying states of burial

We crossed the border into South Australia and I made the boys do silly photo poses for me. Again.

This is where we did find a track to the cliff tops. To Wilson Bluff in fact. The explorer, Eyre, and his aboriginal companion, Wylie, passed through here on their epic journey from Adelaide to Albany in 1840.

The Great Australian Bight was a magnificent sight, with dead calm water. The wind had finally left us, although the flies moved in instead. I walked along the cliff top looking down on the ocean in the late afternoon light. We were just 4km from the Eyre Highway, but a world away. There are no signs to these tracks. You just have to look a little further than the bitumen.

Our camp site view of the Great Australian Bight

On such a perfect evening, and after a few days without a shower, we thought it was time to use our own shower. We have a small hot water system and shower rose that has been stowed until now. I did take some photos of the shower being used, but Harry won’t let me put them on our Blog. I can tell you that a hot shower, on a windless evening, on the edge of the continent with a view of the ocean is a beautiful thing.

We had a fire that night, a great chicken curry, and a
pretty good sunset.

It’s time to leave Lucky Bay, fuel up and hit the road for the Nullabor. The weather has turned nasty, yet again, so it’s not hard to leave these stunning beaches today.

We filled up everything that was empty back in Esperance, and from there, there are two ways to get to Balladonia on the Eyre Highway: the bitumen via Norseman (about 400km) or the dirt to Balladonia which is a much shorter route, being one side of the triangle (about 260km). The short one is not passable after rain, so they say.

Now I heard on the radio that this has been the wettest September in 82 years. Yippee. Consequently, many of the unsealed roads are closed.

We decided to go on the Parmango Road as we qualified for the 4WD status, and as we left town we waved to some folk we had camped near at Lucky Bay. They were doing the ‘long’ route on the bitumen. Remember this.

East of Esperance is timber growing country. It was one plantation after the other for kilometres. It was strange to see tall trees growing so close to the coast where the native scrub is low and wind blasted.

It was somewhere near here that the Landcruiser had its first malfunction of the trip.

Not really a flat, more of a complete blow out. Funny thing was that this tyre has only been on since Perth when John rotated the tyres. It wasn’t the smoothest change. The car slipped off the jack as the wheel was going on, and bent the brake disk guard. Anyway, John bashed that back into shape and finished the job, and off we went.

About 60km from town (past the sign about which roads are closed) we turned onto the Parmango Road, and promptly found a “Road Closed” sign. Urghh. After calls to several sources of authority and a visit to the nearby pub (always the best authority), we decided to give it a go. The lady at the pub said some people had got through this morning. That was a good sign.

About another 60km down the track, which was an excellent road, we met some Slovakian tourists (it’s a melting pot out here) coming the other way who had just done a U-turn, said the road ahead was impassable due to a big patch of mud 5km further on from where we were. They said they were sliding in the mud before even entering the water. We took one look at their tyres and told them to follow us and we’d go through together. It turned out to be a biggish bog hole, but with an easy route on the high left – just making sure you don’t slip into the mire. We all got through, easy as.

The Slovakian tourists continued on behind us till we stopped to look at the historic ruins of Deralinya Homestead.

They had no interest, pointing out that their grandfather’s house back home was over 400 years old. Puts it all in perspective really. At least they find the landscape interesting!

The landscape has now changed from tree plantations to fields of wheat as far as the eye can see. And it’s a bumper crop! Looks thick and healthy. It really shows you why this region is called the wheat belt. An awesome sight.

There’s not a lot else to capture your interest on the Balladonia Road, so I’ll show you this farm gate that travellers have adorned with, well, underwear. You never know what you’ll find out here.

We made it to the highway, watching the Nomads driving across the bitumen road as we approached the T intersection. And guess who we saw driving east? The same folk we waved to this morning as they began their two sides of the triangle. Hilarious. But I think we had more fun.

And lastly, today’s wildflower. I saw this one by the side of the road while we changed the tyre.

Narrow-Leaved Squill or Chamaescilla spiralis

It looked like a nice day at the start. In fact it was a nice day. John and Fergus had a surf back at Hellfire Bay at first light. After breakfast we went east, to Wharton. This is a town that was gazetted in 1967, but actually has just a caravan park. So far. But it looked like a nice caravan park. Maybe one day someone will build something else.

Unfortunately, by the time we arrived here for a day of diving, surfing and baking on the beach, the wind had changed, amped up to Storm Force and the rain set in. There’s no reception out here, so we couldn’t check the forecast.

Little Wharton Beach – note the sand being blown across the beach

We peeked around every corner and investigated every sandy track for all beach options, all to no avail. So after a couple of hours invested in the excursion, we came away with nothing. Not even any bread from the shop at the Wharton caravan park. They were shut.

Back at camp, we regrouped over soup and no bread. The weather was still bleak.

John had faith in a break in the weather (!) and decided it would be good for a dive in the lea of Missisippi Point, back at Rossiter Bay, the next bay to the east from our Lucky Bay. So he and Harry drove back there, while Ferg and I walked there – along the beautiful Lucky Bay beach and over the headland. We saw another of the threatened Oyster Catcher birds. They are quite remarkable, with their long red beaks.

Oyster Catcher

Turns out, the dive was worthwhile. We had four abalones cooked in garlic seasoning for entrée, and then four banded sweep and one magpie perch for main course. Harry had his first try at shooting the spear gun, and ‘nearly’ got a fish of his own. Only a matter of time.

It’s turned cold and we’re all back in long legs and down jackets. And we know now that yesterday was indeed a Lucky Day in Lucky Bay – when it comes to weather.

Lucky Bay got its name from Matthew Flinders who sheltered from a storm here on his circumnavigation of Australia. I wonder if he woke to a nice sunny day after his storm, because we did!

We started with pancakes (thanks to the boys for cooking) and then headed around to Hellfire Bay for a paddle.

Hellfire Bay

John had done his early morning reconnaissance by bike as usual and had a plan for a paddle of about 8km back to our camp at Lucky Bay.

Leaving Hellfire Bay

I walked around the point along very scenic track, swamped by more wildflowers in bloom to Little Hellfire Bay, but they had already passed by.

I met them back at Lucky Bay, after a bit more than an hour. John was upper impressed and rates it as one of the best paddles in Australia for its diversity of scenery, spectacular coast and many picture perfect beaches. Here’s a pic of them (they’re just a spec actually) heading around the point to land.

Paddling into Lucky Bay

Back to camp and time for a home brew coffee (10/10).

Next up on our Lucky Day was a hike up Frenchman Peak. This is an outstanding peak on the horizon.

Frenchman Peak

We had a handicapped race to the top. I’d rather not divulge my personal time off scratch, but suffice to say it should have been longer. John bounded up and caught the boys at the top. They say they were there first.

The view was 360 degrees of Wow! Here’s just one snippet of our reward:

That’s Lucky Bay on the left and Thistle Cove to the right

Yet another great wildflower trail getting back to the car. Today’s pick is one of the many varieties of smoke bush.

Next up was a surf at the far end of Lucky Bay.

Lucky Bay. Pretty cool beach.

Our camp is just to the right of the photo, and we drove along the beach to the far end. I even had a bake in the sun. Can you believe it was a bathers day right after yesterday’s storm? The boys persevered in a fickle shore break.

Ferg on a wave

After that, we jammed in a quick trip to Thistle Cove for another “wow” beach where we saw this beautiful Oyster Catcher – a threatened species – and a few lizards. The fauna quota needed a boost.

And then we had run out of daytime.

There’s a song I know with a line about a “gathering storm”. It’s a slow and gentle song, with a subtle hint that this is the calm before the storm. That’s how it was as we started our ‘beach run’. This is where you use the beach for a road.

We left Esperance for Cape Le Grande. By driving along the beach for 20km, it saves doing over 50km on the road. It started out sunny (had been all day), but out the back window, it didn’t look so flash.

We managed 10km before having to let the tyres down. This happens a lot faster with the whole team on the job.

The storm came in to shore and lashed the coast for the final 5km. We got sandblasted.

And just in case you’re wondering – it was an outgoing tide.

The camping ground here at Lucky Bay (a somewhat cheesy name) is not very nice. Essentially, it’s like camping in a car park. In fact it’s just like the three tier car park in Jan Juc, for those local readers – only with a dirt surface. Every guide, article or tourist brochure says this beach has the whitest sand in Australia. Well that’s your ticket to a full camping ground. Gotta see that. The showers (2) are solar heated – so I was pleased that the sun shone brightly before the storm hit. On a brighter note, the locals here are the kangaroos – together with joeys.

Where did he go?

Tonight was the preliminary final between Geelong and Hawthorn. Now most of the number plates in the camping ground were from the eastern states, and there were many radios tuned to the match – including ours. There were lots of cheers and boos throughout the match coming from the various groups gathered to listen. Our tent had sad faces after the game.