Descriptions of traveling in Australia in a VW camper van and experiencing the Great Barrier Reef on two liveaboard dive trips.
Descriptions of traveling in Australia in a VW camper van and experiencing the Great Barrier Reef on two liveaboard dive trips.
Episode 5 : Carnarvon Gorge and the Great Barrier Reef (2 times), Australia
Hey everybody, welcome back to my podcast, “Goin’ down the road with Randy”. Tonight, we’ll be going to the better known of the lands down under, Australia where we’ll be driving around in Stella Blue, our camper van and backpacking in the Carnarvon Gorge in what is known as “the inner west” in Queensland. Afterwards we’ll be going on a couple of liveaboard scuba diving trips on the Great Barrier Reef.
Australia, land of Oz, down under, it is about the size of the US in land area but it has something like 1/12th of the people. Most of it is a whole lot of nothing. Well, no, not absolutely nothing, it has heaps of minerals and ores, even precious gems! Fun fact, most of the worlds’ opals come from mines at Cooper Pedy in South Australia.
Anyway, we arrive on January 15th 1991 just about dead broke and just before the first Gulf War when we invaded Kuwait. We get a job working illegally in a café in Bondi Beach and we manage to save enough money to buy a 1972 VW Kombi camper van. It will sleep 4 people, 2 up top and 2 down below. It has a sink and a nifty 3-way refrigerator which runs off of 12 volt battery, or plug in current or on propane. It also has a 2 burner stove, stereo, a dash mounted oscillating fan and the previous owners are throwing in all kinds of beach equipment, a propane lantern and a tent. They had the engine replaced and there is only 4000 miles on it. The worst thing was the Carolina blue color, but we got over it. It would be our home for the next three months.
Finally, on June 13th we left Sydney with our friends Mike and Elliot on board. Elliot is the guy we had to whom we had bequeathed our car to in New Zealand and Mike is a mellow young hippy dude that we had also traveled with in New Zealand. Both are from California, bay area. We leave New South Wales with over three cases of wine as ballast under the rear seat – which is another story all its own. That is the issue I have in telling stories about Australia – it is so big and we were there for so long, it becomes a rather long story.
So, I’m gonna skip ahead to Queensland, which is not to say that there are no cool things to do in New South Wales but this is already going to be a long episode so we’ll have to revisit those adventures at a later time.
Queensland is the Australian state which occupies the northeast of the country, and is just north of New South Wales. It arguably has “all the good stuff” – thousands of miles of coral reefs, islands, surfing, sailing, tropical rain forests, volcanoes, aboriginal rock art along with vibrant cities and modern amenities.
Ask almost anyone to list ten things to see and do in Australia and you’ll probably get something along these lines, the great barrier reef, Sydney opera house, Sydney harbor bridge, the Blue Mountains, Kakadu National Park, Fraser Island, Cooktown, Uluru (which you may know as Ayer’s Rock), Brisbane, Melbourne, Cairns and maybe various other tourist destinations mixed in.
We did most of those and more. We were blessed with time, a Volkswagen camper van and a keen nose for shit off the beaten track. That’s how we discovered Carnarvon Gorge. Actually, truth be told I think we discovered Carnarvon Gorge by seeing it the Lonely Planet guide to Australia, but it sounded remote and intriguing, so we went!
30 kilometers long and 200 meters high in places the Carnarvon Gorge cuts a fissure through the landscape of east-central Queensland. It was carved over countless centuries by Carnarvon Creek and its tributaries. It is similar in some ways to the canyons of the deserts of southwestern US but with much more vegetation. The gorge is mostly open but some of the side canyons soon become little slot canyons with beautiful hidden twists and turns.
To get there meant driving 350 miles west of Gladstone on route 60, the closest town is the hopeful-sounding, Springsure. It is amazing how once you leave the east coast of Australia you very quickly enter a whole other world. The road soon becomes a one lane paved road with gravel shoulders on either side. Mostly it runs straight through grassy plains.
The local etiquette is that you drive on the paved part until you meet a car coming the other way and then you slow down and each drop your right wheels on the gravel, keep the left wheels on the paved road and pass each other that way. If by chance there is a truck coming the other way, slow down and pull completely off the road because if he goes on the gravel it will surely spew masses of windshield-cracking gravel all over the place.
Friday, July 19th
We woke up in Stella in a very cool little park on the edge of the small hamlet of Biloela, Queensland. Often, if we were driving we would just stop at a nice-looking park and pop the top of Stella and cook up dinner and crash out. Only a couple of places in Australia had a problem with us sleeping in our van in parks at night. I think perhaps if we had overstayed our welcome we might have had more problems but a night or two seemed to be ok. That worked out well for us actually because after a night or two we needed to restock with water and charge batteries anyway. Many of the little municipal parks on the ocean coming up the east coast from Sydney are the best waterside property in the world and we were enjoying dinner, sleeping and making breakfast right there for free! Bear in mind that this was in 1991 and I have no idea what it is like there now but I’d like to think it was the same.
We scoured the small town looking for fuel for our backpacking stove. We know it as white gas, but we had learned that in “Oz” they call it “Shellite”. There was none in Biloela so we kept heading west and thankfully found some in Rolleston. Good thing too because that was the next-to-last chance place to buy some. We also splurge on a case, or a “slab of stubbies” of the dominant Queensland beer known as 4X.
The last 70 kilometers into Carnarvon Gorge is over washboard dirt road that seems endless at 40 kilometers an hour. We arrive in late afternoon to “find the kind campsite surrounded by friendly kangaroos and oldies from Tasmania and Victoria. We cook up a good feed and sleep well.”
The next day we pack backpacks and hike 6 miles up to Big Bend campsite. In the 6 or so miles the trail crosses Carnarvon Creek 20 times! Or, does Carnarvon Creek cross the trail 20 times? I fear that it does not really matter. Other than the stream crossings – which aren’t bad at all really – the trail is wide and level and easy walking.
As beautiful as the main gorge is the truly spectacular attractions are the side gorges. We check out places called the Moss Garden and the Amphitheater, accessed by a steel ladder and a slot in the rocks. We enjoy lunch in its cool, dark and shady interior.
Just before we reach the campsite at Big Bend we stop at Cathedral Cove and get our first sighting of ancient aboriginal rock art. The art on the rocks here is estimated to be 3650 years old! Areas of Carnarvon National Park have evidence of human habitation going back almost 20,000 years! Most of the art was produced by blowing streams of pulverized colored rock in an aerosol through the mouth using a hand or other object as a stencil against the cliff walls. The cliff here overhangs and provides protection from the elements.
In awestruck wonderment I stare at the art and try to imagine almost 4000 years ago, some dude sitting here blowing on his or her hand because, I guess, they had they time to do so, and, I guess, they wanted to leave a mark of themselves in their world. Unfortunately, that latter sentiment persists in humanity today as evidenced by the carved names and initials in the surrounding soft rock.
We use the Big Bend camp as a basecamp and settle in for a few days.
On Sunday, July 21st, we pack for a day trip up to Battleship Spur. Battleship Spur, I guess resembles the prow of a battleship sticking like a finger perpendicular to the general aspect of the gorge. There are three layers to the gorge. At the bottom the gorge is defined by the river and cliffs about 150 feet high and, particularly in the side canyons, is quite narrow. Then there is another layer of gradual vegetated slopes leading to the second tier of 150 foot cliffs that are wide apart. We climb through Boowinda Creek gorge and emerge into the second level and scramble up to the view point. All this time we have been hiking in the floor of the gorge so this is a very different perspective to see it. From here it looks like a jagged slit in the landscape. It is quite stunning really and we take our time soaking it in as the return trip is just back the way we came.
Returning to the valley floor I try my hand at a bit of ocher grinding with the intention of perhaps creating my own art. But it is quite a bit of hard damn work to grind rock into powder by hand and I soon give up the idea.
The next day, Monday July 22nd, 1991 we break camp and hike back to the main campground. On the way we stop off at a place called the Art Gallery, aptly named for the cave art found there. We also visit my favorite gorge of them all - Ward Canyon. Ward Canyon is home to the king fern which looks exactly like a giant fern. There is a waterfall falling into a beautiful tropical pool inviting us to take a dip. We happily accepted the invitation.
Arriving back at the campground of the kangaroos footsore, tired, and hungry we search the waters for signs of a platypus to no avail. While washing the dishes we spot a rock wallaby.
The next morning we leave this magical place in the nothingness of central Queensland, following the longest road ever back towards the East Coast. We stop in Biloela to call ahead to our destination, the Lazy Q Holiday Ranch to do some horse riding. We stock up on food and drive on to reach the ranch at about 730 in the evening. We fire up a wonderful steak dinner on Sid’s wood cookstove. Afterwards we find our space in the cobwebby old home-built bunkhouse. Yee-hah pardner.
Up early and by ten we are saddled up and ready to ride. Sid leads the four of us and another French girl as we drive the cows to water and then go round up a bunch of horses from the hills. It is quite good fun riding around on a cantering horse clinging on for dear life. We come back for lunch and then were back on the horses again with Di, a woman helping Sid out while his wife recovers from a fall off a horse.
She shows us how to trot and canter and then we must go and drive the milk cows back in for milking – real goddamn cowboy stuff I’m tellin’ ya. I dismount and I know I have had quite enough of horse riding. Turns out I have the shits and don’t really feel well so I go right to bed and skip dinner.
I also miss out on the John Birch-type literature and conspiracy theory spewing madman that we have quite unwittingly wandered into. “The Zionists and the Asiatics will make our children numbered slaves in an absolute dictatorship”. This on a pamphlet that Sid helpfully handed to us. Good thing we are leaving tomorrow.
We leave the Lazy Q and head for Rockhampton, the cattle capital of Queensland, if not all of Australia. We see signs that proclaim “Where the beef meets the reef!” Rockhampton is situated on the Tropic of Capricorn, so we’re officially in the tropics! We have decided to maroon ourselves, Robinison Crusoe-style, on North Keppel Island for the weekend. We book a water taxi for tomorrow morning and then go food shopping. We pick up masks and snorkels and drive to Yeppon and find a nice suitable place to camp, right on the beach, of course. We have dinner and crash.
Friday July 26th
We spend a frantic morning preparing and packing supplies and loading it all onto the waiting boat and then we’re off with Captain Bob. A mere half-hour later Captain Bob deposits us on the shores of North Keppel Island with a promise to return on Monday.
North Keppel Island is a national park and is surrounded by fringing coral reefs. Elliot and Mike set up camp in a little cove to the left (as you look out to sea) of Considine Beach where we make camp near the facilities provided. They are pretty basic; picnic table, cold shower, drinking water and toilet.
We settle in then go explore the island walking around the coast to Eagle Rock which proves to be aptly named as a pair of eagles get very pissed at us when we unwittingly approached their nest. We snorkeled and saw a baby giant clam but the reef here was very silted over and dying.
We came back and cooked up a big batch of spaghetti and as it got dark the possums came out. North Keppel Island, well, the Keppel Islands generally, are overrun with possums. And when I say overrun, I mean by the time we finished our spaghetti we had to fend off the cheeky possums that would try to run in and steal some food right off our plates. We had been warned that this would happen.
To prevent loss of both our sleep and our food we decide to store all the food in the enclosed concrete shower overnight. A fine plan it was but work it did not. In the dark we had not seen the drain hole for the shower and the possums had accessed through that and made off with all of our bread and assorted and sundry food items. I block the hole up with some bricks and chalk another one up to experience. We will have to get creative with our food supply over the next few days.
We decide to move our tent as these very inconsiderate local fisherpeople have arrived and pitched their tents right on top of us. There are assholes all over the world. But we are determined that nothing is going to spoil our good time. We spend the day, reading, writing, and snorkeling the very nice and vibrant reef right off the cove. We see a stingray and a tasseled woebegone shark – very cool-looking.
We go fishing and catch a flounder and a couple of flathead. This is good because in addition to the food we lost we discover that we forgot the giant bag of rice that we had bought. Luckily this place is infested with a particularly voracious type of sandfly, that is intent on rendering our flesh into bone, otherwise we’d have been concentrating on how hungry we were. We begin to wonder that this deserted island shit might not be all it is cracked up to be. We clean the fish and have it as an appetizer to our pasta and veggies.
The next morning is Sunday and we are invaded by a fishing club from Rockhampton. For a supposedly deserted island this place seems to get a lot of traffic. It is not the first time that we have failed to consider days of the week when planning adventures. But, they give us a fish and tons of bait and thankfully leave early. We spend the balance of the day snorkeling and fishing and vice versa. We get two trevally and five flathead so we have augmented our dwindling food stock quite nicely. We still have about half of the big box of port that we brought as well.
Monday, July 29th
Captain Bob shows up mid-morning to ferry us back to Rosslyn Bay where we reunite with Stella we do a bit of organization and drive into Rockhampton. We run errands and pick out a caravan park (a campground) and take a much-needed shower and go out to the Criterion hotel for a fine steak dinner. We drink two bottles of fine wine and after dinner headed to the bar for Sambuca shots. We stagger back over the bridge to the caravan park and pass out.
The next day is a road trip for a 350 kilometers through nothingness to finally reach the beautiful town of Makay. Here we somehow stumble onto the Wiley Hotel which provides us with not only booze but also a $2 dinner. $2 gets us a half a chicken and chips and veggies. It was so good I had two! We decided then that we will just continue driving up to Airlie Beach tonight. So, we did. On the way the headlights of Stella started going out on me which was very unnerving. We rarely drove after dark anyway for fear of hitting a kangaroo. And we see a few kangaroos and also a huge fire, probably controlled. Hopefully controlled. We get into Whitsunday at about 10:30 and camped at a nice little park-looking place spot in Cannonvale.
As it turns out, our spot was directly opposite the police station, but, apparently, there are no worries. We have our chai and boogie in to Airlie Beach to check out the scene. It is a scene too, backpackers and yachties are everywhere. We park in the central lot and cruise around. We hit every dive shop and finally settle on Airlie Dive Center because an independent source told us that they have the nicest boat and he was the only guy to mention beers. Plus, they offer one more dive than the others and we get to spend an extra night on the boat. We book it. I'm going to be certified Open Water for $395 and do as many as nine Dives including one night dive. Greta will be certified as advanced Open Water for $340 and will do as many as 12 Dives including three night Dives. We will spend three nights and three days on the outer Great Barrier Reef aboard the M/V Reef Enterprise. We won't go to Bait Reef which is where everybody else goes. We will have Fairy Reef all to ourselves. I can't wait! One more hoop to jump through is a dive medical that Queesnland requires of everyone wanting to get scuba certified. I pass with no problems and then we make dinner in the lot and go out to Casey's to hear some good blues and drink excellent brews and shots of sambuca. We stumble back to the bus and park it by the Whitsunday Yacht Club. Elliot and Mike set up their tent and we all fall down.
Elliott and Mike are kicked out of their happy home by the Shire council at 6 a.m. and retreat into the top of the bus. I awake hot and hungover and life is very ugly. We have chai and move the bus back to the central lot and hang out with a vengeance. The dive course doesn't start until Sunday morning so we have some time to kill. Lucky for us by now we have perfected our time killing game to a professional level. Elliott decides he can't miss doing the scuba class so he signs up to join us. Another plus is that the humpback whales have arrived and there's a good chance we'll get to see one or two. We spend the day hanging on the beach and I finally catch up on my journal. We'll probably spend the night hanging out in the bus and I can catch up on some letters. Hah! All the best laid plans and the road to hell is paved with good intentions. We end up getting on the piss again. But we’re not celebrating, we’re drowning sorrows, because Elliott fails the physical - apparently he's got a bit of asthma and that is an automatic disqualification in Queensland.
Nothing to do and nowhere to go forced to hang out in Airlie Beach for another two days but I’ve spent longer time hanging out in worse places. Mike and Elliot have decided to look for a ride going north tomorrow. Mike, because he has no money, Elliott because he can supposedly get a better or easier test for his asthma in Townsville. Who knows? Anyway we spend the entire morning emptying all the nooks and crannies of Stella and sorting out the resultant mass of stuff and garbage. It is a bit of an overdue cleaning. Then we hold the sand down on the beach and look for green buds - to no avail.
We are approached by people who inquire if we want to crew on one of the many sailboats languishing in the harbor, bound for various islands in the South Pacific. It is tempting to think about, but practical matters like what will we do with Stella and how will we get back to Australia have us declining the invitation.
We play some hacky sack on the beach and party in the parking lot with Nick and Bill and Dave and Heidi from Canada. Dave's waiting to do his open water course with Barrier Reef dive service and is meanwhile hanging out in his van. Heidi and he are also planning on driving to Darwin and selling their car there. Another night on the piss – drinking.
Saturday August 3rd
Elliott and Mike take off for Townsville at about 9 in a blue kombi van with a very flat spare tire. I spent the rest of the day - you guessed it - hanging out. The mellow afternoon merged into a mellow night and I went to bed early because I start my dive course tomorrow.
I am early arriving at Marine House, Airlie Beach to begin my PADI open water diver certification. It is a bit of an anti-climax as we spend the entire day in the classroom - boring. I meet an English couple, Paul and Janet, who are driving around Australia in their Holden station wagon, roughly following the same itinerary that we are. We will cross paths frequently and when we finally fly home we will stay with them in the UK on our way back. Right now we are all gonna get scuba certified together!
The next day we finally got in the pool which is a bit of a bit of an anti-climax as the pool is butt-ass cold! Got a hundred percent on the first two quizzes.
The day after that we finish pool work and I pass the written test with a 94% score. I miss three questions. We pack up and meet our boat, the Reef Enterprise and sail out to Blue Pearl Bay, just off of Hayman Island. In the Whitsunday group.
Wednesday August 7th
I am awakened at 6:30 a.m. by the engines as we motor off to Fairy Reef. We arrive at about 9:30. I get my first glimpse of the Great Barrier Reef. We are out there – I can't see any land, only the closest Whitsunday islands are barely visible on the horizon. But the reef is clearly visible, even from above the water. It is a rare “glassed out” day on the reef. There is no breeze and no waves. We anchor in 15 meters of water and we can see fish on the bottom. We suit up and do some snorkeling. Dave Hyde is our faithful instructor and he was trained by the Royal Marines so he affords little to no bullshit from his students, but still manages to be a great guy at night. He sends Greta off on the first of her Advanced certification dives. Meanwhile Dave takes out the first group of open water students while the rest of us go snorkeling. The snorkeling is so amazing it's hard to believe that the diving will be better. But of course it is. We do our little exercises and then go for a great little bubble for 20 minutes though the coral wonderland. After lunch Greta does her compass navigation dive and then Dave takes the first group for their second open water dive and we go snorkeling. We do our second dive and do a few exercises. Meanwhile Greta is out and on her third dive - a pleasure dive. We come back and have a shower while most everyone goes for a snorkel to see Henry the friendly giant clam. Sunset over the ocean and lasagna starts baking as Greta suits up for fourth dive of the day - a required night dive. They see a couple of giant turtles as the highlight of that dive. Then dinner, beers and a slideshow.
As we drift off to sleep and as I write this Paul has just caught a small 5 foot gray whaler shark on a hand line off the stern. A bit of excitement ensues with the poor bastard flopping around on the bottom of the deck trying to bite people’s feet off. Anyway it's been a long day and I'm going to bed cuz I'll do my final two certification dives tomorrow morning and then I'll be able to do another dive in the afternoon and then a night dive.
Thursday August 8th
Another gorgeous day in paradise. First Mate Craig makes sure everyone is up very early. He takes a particular and perverse pleasure in this and I’m a bit grumpy about it but Linda serves up the never ending breakfast and coffee and I quickly readjust my attitude. I mean, we’re anchored on a boat on the Great Barrier Reef and we’re scuba diving, right? We motor off to Tina's Arm and do some excellent snorkeling over the reef flat followed by a great dive - our third certification dive, which led us through some tight crevices. My buddy, Rebecca caught her LP hose on one bit of protruding coral and I went back and helped her through. We swim parallel with a big school of barracuda for a while. All in all an excellent dive and we even ace the buddy breathing exercise. After snacks on board the Reef Enterprise we motor off to Craig's Crevice where we saw a huge grouper on our fourth and final certification dive. The coral here was the best ever! It is an elaborate underwater garden. Blue Staghorn, cabbage corals, plate and soft coral in between with colorful marine life all around - the works.
We eat lunch and then motor back to the lagoon for our first solo dive. Rebecca, Matt, and I went down and we saw a huge lobster and Matt found a beautiful cowrie shell. We got low on air and I tried to indicate the way back to the boat but no one believed me so we had to snorkel a good way back. After a suitable surface interval, we prepared for our first night dive.
Greta and South African Dave - we call him South African Dave to distinguish him from Canadian Dave who is in the van with Heidi -anyway, they went off on their own being all advanced open water and all, and then the other 10 of us went down. Everyone was dragging their feet and I was the first one in the water and the first one to the bottom. When everyone else finally jumped in and descended with lights flashing all over the place it looked like a scene out of “Close Encounters of the Third Kind”. If there was any large sea life in the area they were long gone now. We did see a large turtle and scared the shit out of it and he beat it out of there. We surface to an excellent meal of roast pork and have a few beers, then a few more and then it’s off to a good nights’ sleep. The wind is expected to pick up tonight but right now the sea is calm and the weather is beautiful.
We wake to choppy seas and a brisk breeze. Craig is anxious to get back and cruises us over to Sarah's Pocket where he rushes us all into the water. Greta, South African Dave and I are buddies but although we are the first in the water we are the last to surface. We are harassed by a remora, or sucker fish, which wants to latch onto us, ok me - literally. I use half my air fighting it off. A good dive even though the visibility is down a bit. We motor over to Henry's Bommie for our final dive. This time Greta, Dave and I are the first down and we say “Hi!” to Henry the giant clam. He's purple and about the size of a VW Bug. We have a great dive. Instructor Dave takes a picture of us and we see a large school of mother-in-law fish. Later we learn that they're called mother-in-law fish because they taste awful so you give them to your mother-in-law.
Instructor Dave has found a large lobster and brings him up but he has cut his hand. We are in the boat but there are still others in the water and we keep an eye out for sharks. When all are in the boat Craig immediately turns for shore and opens up the throttles. As soon as we leave the protection of the reef and we are in deeper water the sea starts heaving. Waves up to 3 meters are coming over the bow and most of the dive group is beginning to look a little pale.
It's a long few hours back and first Paul, then Janet, then Kylie, then Matt, all talk to Huey. It is a clearance sale of Buicks off the stern and over the side – wherever you could find a spot. We enjoy a beer and help ourselves to their share of the huge luncheon of sandwich meats and then go lay down. We make it back to Airlie Beach where we unload our stuff, pick up Stella, meet everyone back in the parking lot, and then my journal says we “go out to the Hog's Breath Saloon for a great meal of prime rib. We head over to Bongo Congo for a beer or two and end up a K.C.’s for a nightcap.”
The next day we leave Airlie Beach and cruise up north to Townsville where we find the whole town is in hiding or something. No one is about. We get dinner and a box of wine and meet Dave, Sheila and Heidi up on Castle Hill where we all decide to go to the drive-in. We get in for $6 on our student card and we see a “Robin Hood” and “Narrow Margin”. We have beans and rice and drink wine and when it was all over we couldn't find a place to sleep so we park at Breakwater Marina.
Sunday August 11th
We are awakened at 6:30 a.m. by a guy banging on our door shouting. “Wakey, wakey!” The first time this has happened since we started traveling and sleeping in Stella. To be fair it’s probably because we were on the marina property – we think. We move the bus around the corner after making plans to meet the Canadians at the market. We go back to sleep and wake up later have tea and go to the market. I see a great didgeridoo for 80 bucks but don't buy it. We see Paul and Janet and meet up with Dave and the gals. We all go to the most excellent dive shop, Mike Ball Dive Expeditions. These guys are the Rolls-Royce of dive trips. When we win the lotto this is where we'll go to spend it. Meanwhile we'll just drool.
After suitably drooling for a while we make plans to meet everyone on Magnetic Island and then head off to Rosebay caravan park where we spend the afternoon doing old dishes, laundry and cleaning Stella. It’s kind of nice with just the two of us in the van now, but then again expenses just doubled. We spend the evening catching up on our reading, ready to start tomorrow with a fresh, clean slate.
When we wake up the weather is pretty shitty out - cloudy and windy. We go to American Express to take care of the car registration (“rego” in Australian) and the form is not there, just a note from Martin saying that he needs the registration number. I give him a call and he says to just send him $139 and he will mail it back to us in Cairns. Cool. So I go to the bank and take some money out for the van registration then run errands to the post office and talk to some dive shops other than Mike Ball. They all concur that the winds will be up all week and visibility at Magnetic Island will be marginal.
We decide to blow it off and motor north towards Cairns. We fill up with cheap 59 cent per liter petrol and go food shopping. On the way out of town we buy a new battery for Stella for $78 which I hope will solve the flickering headlight problem. We cruise up the road to Cardwell and we get some road brews from what my journal describes as “a brain-dead pub”. Once again I find myself scratching my head at my 30 years ago self and wish I could just get some fuckin’ elaboration because I’m sure there’s a story there but it is long gone now. We camp at a rest area just north of town where I make my chili. It's been raining and drizzling all day so it’s a chili kind of day. Apparently, we have now crossed into the wet tropics. In bed by 10.
We're up early again the next morning, as has lately been our custom - early to bed and early to rise and all that. We drive the last hour into Cairns and immediately get a bad first impression when a guy yells at us calling us fucking tourists. Well, yeah! Hello! That doesn't seem to be much to do here anyway pretty much a cheesy tourist trap – kinda like Myrtle Beach if Myrtle Beach had the Great Barrier Reef. But we have fun when we go to collect our mail. We have heaps of mail. I had a package waiting for me at General delivery that turns out to be new shoes for me from Michael Hanley – excellent! By the way, for the podcast listeners, the town of Cairns is spelled like a rock cairn – c-a-i-r-n-s. but in Australianese it is pronounced like “cans” of soup.
We go to the tourist information office and try to make sense of the bewildering array of dive trips and services. We decide to walk a few blocks down the street and check out the Nimrod 3 which sails between Cooktown and Lizard Island. They offer four days of diving with flights over the reef for $750, 650 if you book a week in advance, and 550 if you book 24 hours in advance. For $100 extra I can get my Advanced open water certification. We say, “What the hell, we’re here! Who knows when we’ll ever be back” and go for it and we book for next Tuesday. When leave we feel a little woozy from spending so much money so fast. I sure hope we win the lotto tomorrow night! Yeah, surprise, spoiler alert, we don’t.
We make plans to spend the next week waiting for our dive trip north of Cairns in the area around Port Douglas and Daintree National Park, which is a world heritage site. We stop by a fruit and veggie market and boogie on out of town to the bottle shop where we get beer, wine, and port to celebrate. Gotta cover all the bases, ya know?
We find a beautiful secluded camping spot about 15 miles north of town on the beach and almost get Stella stuck in the sand while pulling into it. We make an excellent meal with prawns and veggies and rice and while away the evening reading and writing letters. It's very relaxing to have only two people on the bus.
Wednesday August 14th
We wake up and have tea and pull out of our spot with no trouble and cover the few remaining miles to Port Douglas quickly. The road here is probably the most scenic on the entire east coast of Australia. Port Douglas seems to be the West Palm Beach of this coast with palms and golf courses and condos everywhere. We drive to the main beach and chill while I try to catch up on the interminable letters I'm behind on. I do well - 5 letters and four postcards, only five more letters and I'll be caught up.
We drive along the main drag and then to the top of Flagstaff Hill and play some hack. Around dark we go to the bottle shop and buy a slab of Cairns draught and make a reservation at Banditos Mexican restaurant, which proves to be good, but definitely not great and it is expensive. Oh well, we have several beers and pull the van up by the beach and crash.
The next morning we make our tea and head up the road towards the Daintree River and the end of the paved road. We are determined to take Stella to Cape Tribulation. We cross the Daintree River on the ferry being aware of crocodiles and start through the rain forest on dirt roads. The road is not bad at all and we make Cape Tribulation with no problem. Unfortunately, is not very exciting except for the very primeval rainforest. Cape Tribulation was so named by Captain Cook when his ship struck a reef in the area which eventually led to them grounding on another reef. Cape Tribulation marked the farthest that we drove Stella up the east coast of Australia, over 1700 miles from Sydney, the equivalent of driving from Miami, Florida to Bangor, Maine.
We run into Paul and Janet and we all go down to Noah Bay to camp for the night. We see a large lace monitor lizard on the road hanging out by the toilets. Then who should show up at our little campsite but none other than Canadian Dave and Heidi. They take the next spot over and we make a night of it. A couple of furious games of pass the pigs on Paul's rug. Much port and beer and wine is consumed and a fine time was had by all. Such are memories made, if only one was able to remember them more clearly, sigh, ah well.
Friday August 16th
Well I can't say we were up early but after Paul and Janet left and David and Heidi checked out Cape Tribulation and came back and got us the four of us headed back towards the ferry stopping off at the botanical walk on the way. We drove right onto the ferry and went directly to Mossman Gorge where I went for a swim and then we all took a little walk through the rainforest and saw the mother of all trees! Left the gorge got fish and chips and found it a nice camp on the beach on the Cairns to Mossman Road.
The next morning we're up early. We go in to Cairns where we go to American Express for mail and found a letter from Elliot that said he had blown town and gone to Sydney then Melbourne and then Tasmania and was traveling back to California with Mike, so they are off the bus for good and it is just the two of us now. We go shopping and found a note from South African Dave on Stella. He's in town. We actually ran into him in the supermarket and he was psyched to do the Nimrod 3 trip so we go to the dive shop but it is all booked up. We take him back to The Backpacker hostel where he is staying and he gave us some photos that he took of us on the Reef Enterprise trip. Some good shots too! We made plans to meet him tomorrow and drove up to the caravan park in Kuranda and had a much-needed shower and sausages on the barbie followed by Yahtzee night with Heidi and Dave who are in the same park.
Sunday August 18th
This is the day our car registration expires. We're up early and I check the valves on the van. A side note – I had owned many previous Volkswagen vehicles and was well-versed in VW maintenance procedures. The valves were fine but the distributor cap is a bit fouled, so I clean that off. Then we go to Kuranda to the market in search of a sepa sack (a hacky sack-type thing that I wanted) but had no luck. Watching the bungee jumpers was kind of fun though. At 12 we went to the Kabuki dance theater and saw the show there. Very well done. A good insight to aboriginal culture. Matt, Paul and Janet, then South Africa Dave and Rebecca. The gang's all here! We go back to the caravan park and take a shower and drive down to another camp on the beach on the Cairns - Mossman Road. We made burritos and hung out, sewing, reading and whatnot. Ready to go back into Cairns tomorrow, hopefully the registration is there.
Yes! The next day registration arrives just as the old one had run out the new one shows up. Perfect timing! The day is spent running errands gearing up to go on the dive trip tomorrow. We have to plan ahead also because will be coming back in to Cairns next Saturday and hope to leave on Sunday for the outback, so we have to wrap things up here on the east coast of Australia. I get a new - old tire for Stella. We set up an appointment for our malaria pills for Indonesia. We go back to our little spot by the beach and camp.
Tuesday August 20th
This is the day we've been waiting for! We pick up our film, malaria pills for Indonesia and redirect all of our mail to Darwin. We finish with enough time to stop off at the RSL Club to begin to prime ourselves for the short flight on a small plane. We chug down a surprising amount of beer and even manage a shot of Sambuca. We meet the group at 2:30 at Down Under Dive shop. It seems to be largely comprised of yuppie Americans. Steve is an attorney and there is a vascular surgeon and his wife, named Richard and Jennifer. The Honeymooners Richard, call me Rick and somebody - all my journal has is a not so helpful question mark so I feel like we didn’t see much of them. There is Sue Ellen and her daughter, who are quintessential New Yorkers. The two Australians, Allison and Peter must have felt quite outnumbered! God knows what all these folks thought of us two vagabonds but we didn’t much care, we were going to see how the other half lived for a few days. It turns out that most of these folks are from the DC area and Richard the doctor actually went to UVA Medical School.
We go to the airport on the shop’s bus and board the plane for the short flight to Cooktown. We don't get to see much – just pretty much follow the coast up. We are met at the airport in Cooktown by the bus for The Sovereign Hotel where we are meant to stay.
Cooktown turns out to be an interesting little town. It is reached only by a long drive over 200 km of rough dirt road or by plane. We check into our very nice room and stop by the bottle shop on our way to check out the classic old graveyard on the edge of town. Here we see many old graves and meet an old woman and her dog who tend them. Cooktown has the honor her being the first white settlement in Australia when Captain Cook repaired his ship here for 43 days in 1770.
We come back to the hotel and swim in its beautiful pool while sipping some Cooper's Stout. We shower and go to dinner at the Endeavor Inn which claimed to specialize in seafood. We are fully in 5 star adventure mode now and order an excellent meal of prawns, Moreton Bay bugs, mudcrab, and coral trout all washed down with fine wines. The mudcrab is as big as my head, but I eat it anyway. The only bummer is that even though we have reservations we have to wait for a table. This is normally a good sign but in our case simply forces us to drink at the bar. But, on a scale of bummers 1 being not so bummed and 10 being a total bummer this is a zero, really. By the time we left we are well and truly pissed.
Wednesday August 21st
We're up before dawn to meet the van to the Nimrod at 7 a.m. We walk past the spot where it Captain Cook landed on the Australian continent and then board the Nimrod 3and settle in our cabin. The Nimrod 3 is a 65 foot catamaran with a wide 26 foot beam and she accommodates 16 passengers. The crew has prepared a huge breakfast for us and after that we got underway following the Ribbon Reefs up towards Lizard Island about 100 kilometers north.
Thus begins the Nimrod liveaboard routine. Someone will wake you up and press a cup of hot coffee in your hand and usher you ever so gently into your dive gear. You hit the water half asleep but when you surface 40 minutes later you are wide awake and hungry. The Nimrod crew knows this and they have prepared a huge breakfast with waffles and eggs and bacon and sausage and toast and muffins and pastries. If anything is missing, I don’t notice it.
While we eat the boat is moving to the next dive site and once we are anchored we do dive number 2. When we come up there is a huge luncheon laid out for us. While we eat, they move the boat again and then we drop anchor for the afternoon. We do dive number 3 and when we come up there is a huge dinner waiting.
After dinner, if you wait to have a beer you can do a night dive. In any case, snacks are available afterwards and then the bar is open.
We motor out for about 4 hours to ribbon Reef number 4 where I went in for my first Advanced open water certification dive - natural navigation. Nothing special really we spent the entire time diving on our activities. We move the boat to Ribbon Reef number 5 and I did compass navigation at No Name reef where I botch my squares and see a big Potato Cod with a fish hook in its mouth.
Scott, our instructor never even saw me screw up my squares as he was too busy trying to make time with Emma, an English girl on the trip. We had continuing problems with him and his lackadaisical attitude. After dinner that night nearly everyone goes for a night dive and we don't see anything very special but I have trouble with my air and came up with 50 bar it seems that when Norm, the non-driving skipper, checked my air supply when we were giant striding off the back of the boat, he turned the valve the wrong way and it was nearly completely off. When I got to 50 bar when I inhaled the gauge went to zero and I couldn't get a breath, very discouraging.
Thursday August 22nd
What a drag to wake up and get in the water at 8 a.m.! Today I am doing my deep dives. We go deep alright, too deep - 39 meters at Andy's Postcard on Ribbon Reef number 5. Greta gets narced – nitrogen narcosis is a drunken-like feeling experienced by divers at extreme depths - but I don't feel it and am a bit disappointed.
We eat breakfast and they move the boat to Harrier Reef and we do a pleasure dive at Cuttlefish Cove. We see a small, very scared looking shark. Then we have a lunch and move to Ribbon Reef 9 and 1/3 to a dive site known as “Fish Tank”. The dive ends in a nasty current and six people have to be rescued in the Zodiac as they are on their way to Fiji. We manage to make it back to the boat on our own and feel quite superior about it.
The night dive that evening in Challenger Bay is one of the best. First, there is a huge potato cog just hanging out right under the boat and then coming around the coral bommie we come quite literally face-to-face with a large five or six foot reef shark who keeps on coming at us and checks us out quite thoroughly. The experience gives us both the willies. We go the opposite way and see a blue spotted stingray, a painted crayfish, and a barracuda who I soon learn will follow my dive light and target the fish I illuminate. All in all an excellent dive and worthy of a few celebratory beers.
The next morning we dive at Pixie Pinnacle, which I find disappointing given the build-up to it and the reality of the dead coral we find there. I am disappointed by the famed “Cod Hole” dive site also. We do three dives here and the only thing there are the bloody giant potato cod. Which are cool, don’t get me wrong. But once you’ve seen a couple of giant fish submarines you’re like, “Ok, where’s the small stuff?” Honestly, I don’t think it even needs a couple, one good big-ass fish and I’m good, potato cod, check. Because minus the giant fish the site is like diving on the moon - just desolate. We do one drift dive which is quite fun but too short. Ho hum. We motor in towards the Lizard Island and start the session. We drink heaps of beer and bourbon and play Nintendo Game Boy games and watch videos and pass out at 2 a.m.
Saturday August 24th
We are up early to do our last dive in Watsons Bay on Lizard Island. A maximum depth of only seven meters but loads of soft coral and we see two very big, very inquisitive cuttlefish. They are checking us out with large, very intelligent-seeming eyes. They are flashing, pulsing different colors through their body and propelling themselves effortlessly by squirting water around. Amazing. They shadow us for the entire dive but will not allow us to approach them. That might just be the coolest fucking thing I have ever seen in my life.
We have our breakfast and shower and pack up to leave the boat and fly back to Cairns. We disembark onto Lizard Island which is home to both a 5 star luxury resort popular with movie and rock stars and a scientific research station. It also has an airport suitable for small planes. Richard, the surgeon has been sick every night and is forfeiting his return trip to come back with us on the plane. The crew offers his spot to one of us but since we can’t both go we pass.
The flight back is a highlight of the trip. We have to fly low across the Barrier Reef and the pilot lets us come into the cockpit and points out some sights along the way, like the abandoned hippie commune ship foundered on the reef. I even see a giant manta ray swimming peacefully. A perfect ending to an excellent trip even though the sites we visited were probably not the best and we felt like we were coddled all the time. We weren’t used to being looked after.
We get back to Cairns and it felt odd to be back in civilization again. We find a note on Stella from South African Dave and meet up with him and Rebecca at the supermarket of all places. We buy a slab of Cairns draught and get fish and chips became quite pissed. We climb into Stella and sleep in the hostel parking lot.
The next morning we leave Cairns and drive up to the markets in Kuranda looking fruitlessly for a sepa sack to no avail. Then it was on the road for us drive all day from the Atherton tableland down route 1 to routes 62 and 63 to Charters Towers. We stopped and had lunch at this cool crater in the rainforest called Kinrara Crater.
We nearly ran out of petrol before we reach Charters Towers and as it was a Sunday and we had just come off the boat we had no cash and had to charge the gas. The road to Charters Towers is all single lane with wide shoulders for 350 km. Desolation. Nothing. Bloody boring. Put a brick on the accelerator and tie down the steering wheel. We keep driving another hundred kilometers out of Charters Towers before finally pulling over in a rest area and popping the top. There is nothing out here. We are on our way into the outback and that is another story.
So that’s it for this time. Thank y’all for listening, and we’ll see you next time, somewhere down the road.