Onslow

Onslow was proclaimed in 1883 and subsequently picked up and moved 30 years later, when it was decided that Beadon Bay (40 kms away) was more suitable as a dock, as constant cyclones wreaked havoc on incoming ships in the original location.

There are a few ruins still standing today; most notably, the old police station and goal, which is a structure built of stone and coral bricks (yes, bricks made out of coral).

There are lots of plaques around the area informing visitors of the history of 'old' Onslow.

The 'new' Onslow is a bustling but small town, with a mixed population of white and black Aussies, and lots of miners. It is about to embark on massive growth as the gas plant is being built near the town. New Onslow has a couple of caravan parks (which are also home to many miners who stay in new modern bungalows built of galvo iron); we stayed for a couple of nights and enjoyed a boisterous night of karaoke, in which Jase (AKA "Chops") entertained the miners and the odd tourist with 3 songs, sung loudly and proudly: Sex Bomb (Tom Jones), Just a Gigolo (David Lee Roth, sung in the style of Louis Armstrong), & Sweet Transvestite (yes, I'm not joking!)

The following day, Jase was unable to walk too far in public without someone calling, "Hey Chops! Got any more songs for us?!"

We are now staying at Five Mile Pool, 35km away, along a river which has been land-locked and therefore is the colour of the bulldust that surrounds us. There is a lovely carpet of couch grass at our site - a very rare and very welcome sight. The nearest campers are a few hundred metres away, closer to where the official camping ground starts.

There are a million budgies which keep us entertained - its mating season, and they are mating!! There is a large gum tree on our site, which has a nice little hollow, and which has become a nest to at least one pair of budgies.



A pair of brown falcons lives on the other side of the river, and they are land-lovers. They walk along the shore, sometimes lying down with their wings spread, to bask in the sun. It is quite a sight to see such large birds on the ground.
Occasionally we see a red kangaroo come to the water's edge for a drink, or to eat grass; and each evening we are greeted by cattle for the same reason.

The Old Onslow Road

The original gaol

(complete with rings concreted to the ground so prisoners could be permanently chained)

Police station and court house

The blacksmiths

The Cemetery

Newsflash: Flying manta ray?

Okay, so I forgot to mention this amazing event.

And unfortunately, I did not manage to photograph it, so here is a link which shows you precisely what we saw (although this is an article in the British Daily Mail):

http://www.dailymail.co.uk/news/article-1298362/Flying-giants-Incredibly-rare-display-manta-rays-leap-3ft-water-air.html

When we were boating in the Balla Balla, we heard a very loud splash in the water nearby, and turned immediately to see a small manta ray playing in the water - by leaping out, flapping its wings a couple of times, and crashing back into the water. The sound was akin to the ultimate belly whack!

I wish we had a photo of this extremely rare event, but at least the news article gives you some idea of how excited we must have been!

Look out - it's Old Gregg!

My rod is bent way over the boat, into the water, and my wrists are aching. I am afraid the rod might snap. What ever is on the end of my line is pulling pulling pulling and as soon as I give it a little slack, it pulls even further. I'm starting to get excited now; a few minutes have passed, and Jase is watching me with an eager grin on his face. Now it's literally dragging the boat along the water, against the current!
*snap* the line breaks and it's gone, just like that.
"I reckon that was Old Gregg!!" (Captain Trauma knows who I mean, and so will any fan of the brilliant British comedy 'Mighty Boosh')

Balla Balla River

Plenty of catfish are good for sport but not great table fare.
However, on two separate occasions we were given fish - first by a couple who accidentally exceeded the bag limit and had to offload some of their catch ("Umm.... sure..... we'll help you out....") and another couple who caught a magnificent Golden Trevally which was simply too much food for 2 people, so they gave us half the fish!! (i suspect that might have been Old Gregg too)

This is the Whim Creek pub, complete with paraphernalia including dead bugs (see below). Behind the bar is a tough not-so-old broad who serves you with a no-nonsense attitude.

Native pigeons, quail, budgies and finches are everywhere!

20km from the Whim Creek pub is the Balla Balla inlet, where you can simply pull up your rig and camp wherever you want. In the above photo you will note that almost all campers opt for a communal arrangement and camp within close proximity of each other.

We choose this lovely spot several hundred metres away: no generators, no loud talk-back radio, just us.

We stayed here for 6 nights, wihtout power or running water; and it was bliss.

The sky is simply massive, and at night it's fun to spot satellites amongst the stars using binoculars.

These are not diamonds; they are naturally formed salt crystals where a puddle, isolated from the tidal water, has evaporated and left the salt behind. Not surprisingly, there are many salt mines in the vicinity.

Wildflowers!

These photos were taken just after dawn. The side of the road is alive with colour, purple, yellow, white and red - here there are many patches of Sturt Desert Pea; one of the prettiest flowers you will find in Australia. We had to pull over and take a couple of photos.

My 40th

Big bird aviary

Imagine a long wide river, somewhat dry now, but lined with trees and beautiful lush grasses. In the distance is a railway - probably there to service diesel trains as they transport commercial goods or minerals (which is most likely in these parts) to the rest of Australia. Along the shoreline there are muddy tracks left by 4WD's which plough through to find camping spots for caravans and poptops.

If you stand still, you will notice a varied collection of birds which either run or flit about in pursuit insects. Above, in the tree tops, you can hear budgies squawking and chirping their cheerful hilarious dialogue.

Below, in the grass, quail dart about in single file, trying very hard to enjoy the day's joys but trying also to be elusive of human contact.

Welcome to De Grey River.

But beware the snakes! This fellow gave Jase a proverbial heart attack when he almost stepped on it; and it flattened its head as if to say "Hey, I was here first! Bugger off!! Or I'll give you such a nip!!!!!"

Camping at De Grey

There are lots of campers here, but you can either be sociable or you can try very hard to find a spot on your own. The camp ground is several km's long, is free, and is very popular with grey nomads who return year after year to this spot. People walk to the water's edge and fill buckets to do their washing in; and you will often spot a clothes line filled with towels or big baggy underpants. If you take a short walk, you will be "hello"d many times, and in fact, we were offered a cuppa which we found irresistible. An hour later, another man invited us to his camp to enjoy a modest campfire and to shoot the breeze, or share a tale, as if often done in areas like this.

It's the 14th July, the day before my 40th birthday, and I am excited to awaken, on my birthday, with budgies and quail and finches welcoming the day.

An early night then.

My birthday!

Dawn on the 15th, and I am roused awake by Jase who excitedly wishes me a happy birthday and dashes outside to light a small campfire. Coffee brewed, we watch the sun rise and munch on bacon & egg sandwiches. Some campers approach and sing me happy birthday which is surprising and pleasant, and thoroughly perfect.

We pack up camp and drive to Port Hedland, where we hope to find a nice restaurant to have our dinner.

Port Hedland- 'interesting' choice for a birthday

Port Hedland surprised us.... salt pans, refineries and smoke stacks line the horizon, which had us thinking, in horror, "Oh my goodness, where the hell are we spending my special day???" Australia's biggest port, apparently. The town is swarming with miners who are sweaty and dirty (think 18th century chimney sweepers). For lunch we find a local pub with a large beer garden (note the sign at the door "July 16th... Pyjama Party".... in a town full of dirty men, what woman in her right mind would attend a PJ party????) which serves a good feed of hamburger & chips, with a deliciously bitter Emu Bitter on the side.

Miners Mess

Dinner is even more 'interesting'. We are told of the Miner's Mess, situated right in the miners' living complex. Apparently Friday night is "seafood night". We are won over. Being warned not wear anything revealing (the basic Indian cotton top I was wearing was apparently too indiscreet for this crowd which can get rowdy if provoked), I donned a basic peasant top with slacks, and we bought our meal tickets, heading into what I thought would be a prison or army barracks-type arrangement (ie Blues Brothers "Jailhouse Rock"). Nothing of the sort! Really good tucker (the chef will cook your steak to order, "I'll have mine blue thanks!" says I), all you can eat, sports telecast on numerous TV screens, and even a couple of tourists just like us. A perfect, interesting,strange old day, thanks to the thoughts of my darling husband.

Miner's complex

Mess

And thank you!

Thank you to those of you who texted, phoned, posted and emailed; how lovely to get so many messages whilst many thousands of km's from home!