Monkey Mia - Derby Wow!!!

Let’s talk about termites! Yes termites. I have spent a number of days contemplating the habits of these little critters for their mounds are to be found everywhere in this part of the world – but according to geographic location they look completely different.

It is the habits of the termites that have arrested my contemplation. Further south near Carnarvon their mounds are huge and irregular and so rare and big they have become a tourist attraction with their own national park signs. Moving up the coast toward the Monkey Mia peninsula they sit squat in paddocks – they look like muffins sitting at semiregular intervals in the paddocks – they have smooth surfaces and are the colour of well-done apple/cinnamon muffins. You will see several of them in one paddock and none for several kilometres and this is what happens along the road all the way to Broome. I remember at one stage wishing that I could have a conversation with a termite asking why the difference? Why one paddock and not another? Perhaps I would have offered him/her a cuppa while we discussed the relative merits or otherwise of the soil, sand, moisture concentration – but there were none available to assist!

Then I got all the way to Derby, and they changed nature again! Suddenly and I do mean suddenly they change nature again. The termite mounds are small, scrappy, very irregular, very muddy and grouped very close together looking more like a city slum full of poverty rather than a well-ordered village. Again, I wanted to ask why? But my curiosity remained unsatisfied and demands more research!

I had been thinking about this on the road to Karratha and then was diverted as the landscape I was witnessing was simply and utterly stupendous! Suddenly you leave the outback and world heritage drives you now enter the Pilbara.

The Pilbara is breathtaking. Nothing prepared me for this fact. The Pilbara, for me, had always dragged up images of high vis-clad people wearing hard hats, giant diggers churning the ground, diesel trucks belching out malodourous fumes taking ore to the grubby railway carriages to be dragged by diesel trains to ports for transport. But that imaginary bubble was burst immediately. The environment is vast, the brown of the earth is the darkest of browns with an almost bluey hue, the rocks are flinty. Suddenly the earth rises, and you are surrounded by hills of the same rock – they all appeared very flat on the top looking a bit like tables ready for teatime for the mythical bunyips! The earth is almost telling you the story of its formation when before time the earth was boiling and large pieces of the forming land bashed into one another and folded into place before cooling. The effect is exquisite.

I did thank the heavens for the heavy falls of rain that have been experienced in this part of the world as there were native grasses lining the roads on this wonderful drive. This grass as it grew became darker towards its ends which reflect pink in the sunlight. As you drive past, they waft in the breeze, and it looked like there was the finest pinkest silk rippling along the sides of the road. There is a delicate wattle growing here, nothing like the tough ones we are used to in Victoria. It has delicate waxed leaves which dance in the breeze along with their golden blooms which just adds a touch of magic to the magnificent tableau. When I stepped out of the car the atmosphere of the Pilbara enveloped me. There is peace in this majestic land.

The skies are very large and very blue and when I was there cloudless. The night skies are majestic and absolutely stuffed with stars as they do not have to compete with the earthly lights and are shown in their full glory. I felt as though if I stood on my tippy toes, I could have grabbed hold of the Southern Cross.

On the way into Karratha I did have to stop at a railway crossing and let one of those mining trains through – it was soooooooo loooooong, I swear I sat there for almost 15 minutes waiting for it to make its entire way through the crossing. But by this time, I was feeling a little disappointed because just as abruptly as entering the Pilbara you leave it at Karratha, and I felt as though I had lost something precious.

Karratha is a nice little town, there is a utilitarian shopping centre surrounded by apartments with views of the small bay at Karratha. It would be a nice place for a languid holiday. Karratha is only 20 kms from Dampier so out I schlepped to have a look. Poor old Dampier is the poor cousin to the shiny Karratha. Here there were the container ships patiently waiting their loads and the railway sidings and there is a very tired, worn out feel to the town. Karratha’s bays are obviously quarantined for tourists – those that could afford to pay for the water view.

I have now got back into free camping and have not had a powered site for almost 3 weeks. There is so much freedom in it you just put down where you feel like it and set up home. I was heading to Port Hedland and have met some lovely people on the way, sometimes you are alone but more often than not there is one or two other rigs or several it just depends on the type of stop. It is fascinating talking to them – they are all so interesting and all have their own little adventures to share.

Port Hedland was a few days drive just taking it slowly. Port Hedland is grey. To my eye everything had a grey tinge. Even the red dirt, the green grass, and the Australian Flag outside the Border Force office was grey. You are unable to see the port there is just so much infrastructure supporting the port it obscures the vista. There is every type of crane imaginable and gigantic tanks forbiddingly emblazoned with ‘explosive fuel’ labels, these also line the small road out of the town centre. Port Hedland almost has a seething life of its own – it is industry, government rules and personnel behind doors escaping the relentless heat. I did find a nice piece of beach where I was able to replenish my water supply and then very quickly struck out on the road to Broome.

And then the landscape again changed dramatically. It has a stunted feel to it. The trees are small and look underfed, the bushes are lethargic and the grasses dry. The coastal winds reign supreme. The joy of free camping is that you become one with the landscape and on this part of the road it is so straight that the kilometres seemed to just melt away. I was completely surprised when I encountered a T intersection one way pointing to Broome (33Ks) and Derby (128Ks) and right on the corner the busiest roadhouse I think I have ever encountered as we were all immerging from several days in the bush.

I am so lucky. A friend of mine is going to fly to Broome to spend a week with me. Jenny and I went to kindergarten together and then through school. We have been friends for 58 years and now she is coming to Broome to spend time with her mad friend. Lifelong friendship is a glorious thing!

Having got to Broome far quicker than I anticipated I quickly went in there to replenish groceries and water and decided to head up to Derby. And immediately I encountered yet another landscape this time interspersed with the Boab trees that quickly become ubiquitous and make the eucalypts seem small. It was now the slum like termite mounds appeared at the feet of the trees and interspersed amongst the scrub. The Boabs are fascinating – there are several without leaves and I did wonder if they were deciduous – actually the small ones without leaves made me laugh for they reminded me of little boys on a sports field sticking out their little barrel chests and waving their arms in the air. The larger ones seemed to be favoured spot for eagles to build their nests. You often see these solitary predators coasting on the updrafts, wings spread, feet lowered scanning the ground below for a tasty morsel.

Derby is a very quiet sleepy town. I must confess I felt a certain menacing in the silence of the town. Many of the shops were empty in the centre of the town, suggesting troubled times and there were one or two people asleep on the pavement of the main street. I was not inclined to stay there and made my way out into the bush again to slowly meander my way back to Broome where on the 10th of July I will be picking Jenny up at the airport and we will explore Broome and the surrounding environs together – and talk the legs off the chairs!