The track into Winderabandi is legendary for its rough-as-guts, corrugated track. We’d heard all the horror stories from the travelling circuit, so were interested to see what the reality was. After lowering the tyre pressures, we began our way. It was slow going, but nothing worse than some other tracks we’d been on. It took us about two hours to drive 75km, after stopping to take some footage with the drone and collecting firewood.

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As we drove past the dunes, with vans all nestled away from onlookers, I felt a stab of envy as we pulled up to our spot on the beach, all camps crammed next to each other – you know by now how unsociable we are! In hindsight, it was a great spot and we had the best neighbours for most of our time there, it was probably the distant memory of having the beach to ourselves 14 years ago that mudded the feelings. Once set up and reflecting again on this new world, cut off from all the turmoil both on the East and across the world, I was just grateful to have a second chance at being here. This section of the coast was supposed to have been done and dusted for us, yet here we were again, at the edge of an incredible beach we were to call home for the next 9 days.

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We were ready to immerse ourselves back into beach living. I’d suggested Lexi and Reo may like to do 2 days’ worth of schoolwork in a day, so they could have the intermittent days off. They were eager initially, but after the first page of English was completed, the suggestion was quickly rebuked. As Lexi & Reo started making friends early in the week, I tired of fighting my three children on getting some sort of routine in place, so decided we could all do with a holiday and I embraced the wild and free living – schooling became a distant memory. If this place wasn’t paradise before, it had just morphed into it!!

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We met a couple of ‘local’ families (who lived just a 6-hour drive away) and all the kids hit it off famously – fishing, kayaking, swimming, playing in the dunes and running between camps. After leaving at brekkie, we might see them intermittently, until they returned hungry again.

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One day we drove up to Cape Range NP, taking the track we’d started a year ago and didn’t get very far after the wheel fell off the car. Thankfully, going the other way, all was well, and we returned to Turquoise Bay and Oyster Stacks for a snorkel. We had planned to take a couple of trips into the NP, but we were so busy lounging at Winderabandi, we never made it back after the first trip.

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Before long new neighbours rocked up, Charlie, Jenny and 3-year-old Avalon. Reo became very excited as he saw the tinny and began befriending Charlie immediately (clearly his father’s son!). The days were lazy, but the wind picked up, so not ideal for taking the tinny out. As the week continued, the wind died down a little and Charlie took Alex and Reo out for a fishing trip. Much fun was had although there was no fish supper to be cooked! The boys went out a couple of times fishing and we had heaps of fun with Lexi, Reo and Avalon pulling them along on the SUP behind the tinny. Charlie even trusted me to drive it and pull him along to have a go. It took a few practises to remember how to handle the thing, but before long I managed to pull Charlie along the waves (OK, let’s call them wobbles) for him to show off his surfing SUP prowess.

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The days were spent relaxed, strolling on the beach, chatting, walking Avalon’s dog, having a drink and fishing. Another family, Ritchie and Miranda with their two girls Iris and Gracie arrived, adding more playmates to the mix. These guys were from Denmark, so we quickly shared our story of lockdown and how much we loved the area. Of course, the initial stories the kids blurted out were how we blew up a ute and got bogged at Parry’s Beach (I think I may have quickly skipped over the latter in previous blogs. 😜) Never again can you have secrets once you have children!!

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On our penultimate day, Charlie very kindly lent us his boat. Clearly my boating skills had not gone unnoticed (although it was Alex who quickly jumped to sit at the helm), and we tootled off to find Lexi around the corner at the next beach playing with Iris and Gracie. I thought we were just going for a taz around and a bit of fun, but once we’d navigated the coral bommies and clumps of seaweed through the very low tide, we anchored up and Alex and the kids began fishing. I was not prepared for this!

Picture this: 4 of us in a small space, 3 rods – soon to become 2, a knife which Reo quite happily yielded around with no idea of how close it was coming to any us of, in a tinny that rocked and moved every time you stood to cast a line, or change weight. Alex quickly switched into his “Director/Dictator” mode, with ‘sit down’, ‘I’ll cast that’, ‘put that knife down’ being just a few of the lines delivered in this fun hour of fishing. It turned into a bit of a comedy sketch really, and after a few lines had been snagged on the coral, more than a couple of fish reeled in and released back to the sea, I was ready to return to land. All jesting aside, it was a fun adventure to be out in the boat with just the four of us, something we’d not experienced before and a massive thank you goes out to Charlie and Jenny for their confidence in us to return it safely to shore.

The evenings were cool, but we had a warm, communal fire every night to sit by and chat. What had been an intended dry period didn’t last long, as Jenny kindly shared her beers and wine as we swapped stories and tales of our lives and past travels. Being right on the tip of the peninsula, we were rewarded with some stunning sunsets. The evening before we left was magnificent and one of the best we’ve seen – if that’s possible, since we’ve seen so many incredible ones. After a pretty windy week, Mother Nature wanted us to leave with a good impression; the yellows, orange, pinks, purples and indigo against the darkening sky created a dramatic backdrop to camp, unequivocally stamped in our memories forever.

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Contrary to our normal Towns mantra of “up and out”, (i.e. ready to leave just before lunch), engines were roaring at 6.40am – I know, shocking right! We woke Jenny, Charlie and Avalon at their request, to bid a fond farewell and began the eight-hour journey north to Karratha to the house sit we’d organised.

This sit was for nine days, plenty of time to catch up on washing, schoolwork, walk Carly the dog and squeeze in a few movies in the theatre room. Did someone say THEATRE ROOM?!?!?! That was certainly the priority for Lexi & Reo, along with riding the hoverboards that were patiently waiting for action in the garage. After waving safe travels to the family, the dedicated playroom was raided and dress-up began. This was going to be a fun stay. With so much time here, Alex and I thought we’d be able to sneak a few movies in too, yet somehow the time in Karratha just disappeared.

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We knew that ‘Where’s I going today?’ (friends we’d made near Coral Bay) were going to be here at the same time, so had arranged to meet with them to see ‘Staircase to the Moon’, the natural phenomenon causing an optical illusion, which occurs when a full moon rises over exposed mud flats to create a magical staircase reaching up to the moon. We’d seen it a couple of times now, and it was still nearly as magical as the first time we saw it. The main difference being when we initially experienced it, we were on a deserted beach, enjoying the isolation, when the moon seemed to pop out of nowhere, shedding its light over the exposed sand flats of Shark Bay. Being none the wiser, we just thought, ‘wow, how beautiful is this’, not realising it was a ‘thing’ people plan religiously for, making sure they pick the prime spot for viewing. There are in fact, only a few places you can experience this wonder in north-west WA, and here we were now, fitting into that category of “planning”, bustling among other travellers and locals to enjoy it anew.

Interspersed with all the baking and cooking Lexi and I ensconced ourselves in, having an oven at our fingertips, we still found time to entertain. We invited Dan, Mandy, Neve, May & Hazel over (‘Where’s I going today?’) for a BBQ one night, where the dress up box and movie theatre got a good working out. The adults sat outside and basked in the warm winter air, enjoying a drink and chat.

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The days seemed to hurtle by, a lot of the time with the hover-boards. This, of course was intermingled with popping inside to maximise the use of the movie theatre. We did manage to fit in an afternoon of pampering when Lexi and Reo ventured into Mummy’s hairdressing salon 😝

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The kids were keen to walk Carly by hoverboard, but I could foresee all sorts of things going awry with that scenario, so the kids pegged it along the streets on the boards, while Alex or I took charge of the dog. We’d been warned they were fast, and with Reo being slightly lighter that Lexi, I reckon her nearly reached breakneck speed! They raced down the street and were very nimble on them, turning on a dime and spinning off again in the opposite direction. Reo got a little too confident on our last night and unfortunately had an accident, crashing into the curb, making a nice gash in his ankle, and bending the arm of the kart in the process. 😖 Tears flowed, bandaids stemmed bleeding and an apology letter to its owners ensued, offering to pay for the damages.

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When we were here a year ago, we landed on a friend’s, cousin’s doorstep to say hi and literally camped on his curb! This year, we could at least repay his kindness and invited Haydon, and his children Caleb and Teagan, over for dinner another night. Again, sat in the warmth, catching up on what we’d all been up to over the last year, sharing a couple of bottles of wine, made for another fabulous evening.

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Haydon took us out on his boat the following day, the weather perfect for a sail around the Dampier Archipelago. As we passed the iron ore plant and petroleum & liquified natural gas monstrosities perched high on the horizon, dolphins chased our wake in our race to the islands. We neared the shore to find a picture-perfect beach, laced with its turquoise waters, enticing us to dive in. We had a great day jumping off the anchored boat, lounging on the sand and playing in the surf, ending the day with a massive burger at the boat club back on shore.

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Before we knew it, it was time to take Carly on her last walk before securing the house and becoming Road Warriors once more. We’ve really enjoyed the house sits, assuaged by a little ‘normality’, interspersing our unparalleled wanderings. We continued up the coast, popped into Cape Keruadren for a couple of nights and camped overlooking the sharp, craggy rocks, scattered over the bay.

It was then we returned to Barred Creek, just north of Broome. While the majority settle into Cable Beach Caravan Park, heading 30km north transports you from hustle and bustle to quiet shores. Instead of settling on the cliffs, this time we took the less travelled sand track on to the beach. We were now truly back into croc territory, so swimming was a no-no, always challenging when the temps begin soaring. We did, however, get some other water activity. It’s the return of the humpbacks, and as we saw splashes close to shore, I got the drone up and was rewarded with five of them frolicking about! It was amazing seeing them from the sky, so close, watching them do their thing. They were in no rush, playing and cruising along the shores, slowly migrating up the coast. Incredible to see.

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After a couple nights, we moved camp down the road to a contrasting terrain; the stunning red Pindan cliffs of James Price Point. Like a vision from Mars. Totally spectacular, vibrant and raw. The dust gets EVERYWHERE, and once down, impossible to remove! Just like the simple beauty of the Kimberley, once experienced, it gets under your skin and into your soul.  

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We immersed ourselves in the dust but ventured out one afternoon to the hustle and bustle to see Dan, Mandy and girls who’d already arrived here and were treated to an afternoon in the swimming pool and a spectacular locally caught fish dinner.

We returned to the Fitzroy River as we’d enjoyed it so much last year and spent a couple of days hanging out with the Freshies, fishing, swinging and making BIG fires to toast jaffles on.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_VUaMBGyJ7w

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It was soon time to prepare ourselves for another trip down memory lane – our second chance at the great Gibb River Road. Later than initially intended due to the pesky virus, but still a month earlier than when we started last year, we had everything crossed for flowing water. We were excited to return to this remote, former cattle route, through the beautiful rugged Kimberley, comprising of 660 kilometres of bouncing, bracing, bone jarring, broken rocks and beautiful, big Boab trees. Oh, how I love Boab trees.

There are many guidebooks available to help prepare for the Gibb, but really, the true enjoyment and highlights cannot be found in books. They’re in the air, the dirt, the water. They’re to be felt. What makes the experience truly special are the new friends you make on the way, ones that you will cherish forever more. Last year had been amazing travelling with The Unlikely Camper, and we were expecting even more from the Gibb this time round. It did not disappoint.

The first thing we noticed was how much higher the water levels were compared to last year. And the sun had not totally wrought its harsh heat on the land yet, with green shrubs and canopies, lingering evidence of the wet that had swept the land a few months prior. Our journey began, as we planned to bump, jump and swim throughout the Gibb.

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First off, we returned to Poultons Pool. Both Alex and I were up for sunrise, Alex in the hope to catch a Barra again, me to watch the morning glow bounce off the Boab trees. I treasure these early mornings, when the kids are still sleeping and calm is all around. We’d decided to miss Tunnel Creek and Windjana Gorge this time round and high-tailed it to Mount Hart Station. Certainly busier than last year, but being 75% down in tourists, we couldn’t complain and still managed to snag a water-side camp. The highlight this year were two pedal boats, initiating boy Vs girl battle of the ages, as the gamesome groms waged war on each other.

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That night over pizza and a few beverages, we met two other families – Counting Stars 2020; Chris, Jo & Zara (11) and The Beaches; Adrian, Anna, Charlotte (12) and Millie (9) – who were to become our travelling buddies for the rest of the trip. We rebranded ourselves the “Gibb River Gang” and loosely planned our route for the next week. Lexi even managed to thumb a lift with a private chauffeur, as she rode shotgun with Zara for the rest of the trip! We returned to Dolomite Gorge, a meandering water park 5km from the Station, splashed in the cool waters, then flattened ourselves on the warm rocks to dry off and warm up again.

The next day was spent lazing on the smooth granite rocks of Bells Gorge. After a hot winding walk, that felt longer than its 700 metres, a refreshing dip in the oasis below was welcoming. The overhangs which we ate lunch under last year, were nearly underwater and the flowing waterfall showed just how much more water there was this year. In between dips and rock lounging, we slipped downstream to be rewarded with amazing views over the ranges and down into another giant, but inaccessible pool.

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The next couple of gorges we decided to do in a day, then press on to the subsequent camp for evening. Both only a short walk from the car, we took a refreshing dip with a Freshie in Adhock Gorge, then had fun swinging from the rope swing at Galvin’s Gorge. Adrian demonstrated the unique, additional function of his drone as it turned into a submarine for a second or two at Galvin’s 😳, so I took mine up to photo the Boab, perched high above, to show him how drones should be flown!

The girls were now forming a break away satellite camp, all squeezed in to the 4-man tent, with copious blankets to stave off the cold night air. With warm, high twenty temperatures during the day, the single figures at night, were a harsh contrast, although I reckon the amount of hot air coming out of the tent from giggles, screams and pre-teen banter, was enough to warm their coop.

Mount Barnett was our penultimate camp. A bit of a dust and burr pit, but a short walk to a glorious waterhole, with a mini beach, more rope swings and the remains of the pulley boat (minus pulley this year) to take your gear – or Reo – across the water. Once across the water, a long trek and rock scramble takes you into a huge, deep gorge with multi-levelled rock jumps and cool waters below to swim in.

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As the day became longer, the jumps became bigger, as everyone playfully egged each other to go up a level. ‘Fear is only temporary, regrets last forever’, and it was interesting to see how everyone conquered their fears – adults and children alike – as we perched on the edge of the drop, contemplating the chances of survival. We were all very proud of our achievements, and rightly so, jumping 5 times (or more) your body length is no mean feat! Manning Gorge certainly rocks as one of the faves of the Gibb, for its lush beauty and adrenaline combined.

Our last nights were at Mt Elizabeth. The rough road in prepared us for some challenging 4wding into Wunnamurra gorge, which offered a fresh dip, a running waterfall (last year we were playing cards where water was now splashing down) and some sensational 4000-year-old Aboriginal rock art….they look like aliens! That evening, leaving the children with a radio and a movie (don’t worry we also fed them), the adults sat at the homestead for a superb meal, cooked by a French chef, fittingly ending our time as the “Gibb river Gang”.

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The rest of The Gibb was closed, so with a tear in our eyes, we said farewell to The Beaches as they backtracked to Derby to collect their van and we continued to the Pentecost River with Chris, Jo and Zara. Just as Alex congratulated Chris on how well he was going with the van, Chris radioed to say he’d had a tyre blowout. Shredded would be a better description of the state of the tyre, and so a pitstop to first work out how to get the spare off the car, then to change said tyre, unfortunately pushed us back nearly an hour and we just missed the sunset over the Pentecost Ranges. Pulling up to camp in the dark (they were travelling with the Towns’ after all!), we found that once again a strut on Minty had broken and the roof couldn’t be lifted (i.e. no bed for Reo). Lexi and Zara immediately went into planning mode, concocting Lexi to sleep in the extra bunk in Zara’s van, before Alex could turn around to say he had a spare!!

Once again, The Gibb delivered in spades. The red dust got into our hair, nails, car and bed, and while we tried to wash it out, a little bit of it will remain there for years to come, just like the memories we created driving through it.

The time had come. We had to be brave. With 19 months of travel now under our tyres, 12 of those had been in Western Australia, the last 4 providing our safe haven and parallel world amid Covid-19 chaos. We were now to say goodbye to WA and hello to the Northern Territory.