The Pinnacles

A while back I got the itch to go exploring. I had heard that there were some interesting rock formations called the Pinnacles within a day’s drive up the coast, and that the area between Perth and there was fairly remote. I decided to drive up the coast a few hours to see the Pinnacles and to see whether it's really as remote up there as I had heard. There were a few places I wanted to check out along the way too so I made a day of it. Perth is wedged between two of Australia's most noted wine regions, the Margaret River Valley and the Swan River region. The Swan River region is the closer of the two to where I live, maybe about 40 minutes northeast of the city. There are dozens of vineyards in the area. I’m not a wine nut but I think some of the notable ones are Sandalford, Fish Tail, and Riverbank Estates. Even if you’re not a wine afficianado the scenery is nice. I sped through the vineyards away from civilization and pretty soon got north of Yanchep and out into the real countryside. There was nothing for miles on end except scrub and the road I was on.

After having been south along the coast and around the city already I thought I knew what to expect once I got north of Perth, but no. The coastline south of Perth is dry but still has forested areas and green pastures, especially in the sheep ranching areas. Going north is a whole different experience. After I got out of the Swan it got really dry, really quick. No farms, no houses, and very little vegetation. This part of the west coast is so undeveloped that roadhouses show up on map atlases that cover the entire country. Ones that are open 24 hours are rare, and are printed in bold. It's equivalent to seeing Bob's Mini Mart on a Rand McNally Atlas of the US.

It continued that way for 2 or 3 hours until I got to the little town of Lancelin. Lancelin is like so many other tiny Australian towns. There are no significant businesses to speak of. It is a lonely outpost on the west coast of Australia that has a cluster of a few dozen nondescript houses, a run down fish and chips shack next to the local roadhouse (which also serves as the post office, hotel, pub, social club, and general center of local commerce and social life), a few mangy dogs, and some even mangier looking bogans. At first glance Lancelin doesn’t seem to have any real reason for existing except that it is literally the end of the road. Highway 60, which is a proper 6 lane highway in Perth and at least a sealed road until Lancelin, abruptly becomes little more than a dirt path in Lancelin. There are three ways of continuing north from this point: parking your car and walking (which will more than likely kill you); driving into the great unknown on an unmaintained, rutted, poor excuse for a road (which also has a fair chance of resulting in your demise, and does so for dozens of foolishly adventurous motorists in Australia every year); and turning around and backtracking about 20 miles to the next road inland.

I was about to take the third option for leaving Lancelin when I rounded the corner and saw the reason that Lancelin exists. It was one of those rare postcard moments, the kind when you take a picture because you feel you have to, but knowing full well that the camera won’t do justice to what you are seeing. Laid out in a perfect half circle was one of the most perfect beaches I have ever seen. Perhaps the only more picturesque beach I have ever been to was on the extreme eastern end of Vieques, but that doesn’t count because it was so nice only because at that time it had been kept under lock and key by the US military for the last 60 year or so. This place was a public beach, accessible to anyone who took the time to find it. The water was so clear I could see a reef sitting under breaking waves about a mile offshore. The sand was pure white, the sea bright green, there was no trash, and I could see for probably a mile in either direction and could only spot maybe 10 or so people and a handful of windsurfers running between the beach and the reef. There are no signs to tell you it’s there, which is probably due equally to two facts: as I was to find out later in the day there are so many of these beaches around north of Lancelin that it’s not locally noteworthy, and there wouldn’t be very many people around to read the sign if someone bothered to erect it. I had my lunch there before remembering that I still had to get farther north in time to see the Pinnacles before dark.

Driving north out of Lancelin the road got more lonely than it had been before. It was about three hours straight of bush on my right, and low hills with sand dunes beyond them on my left. Every now and again the Indian Ocean showed as a thin ribbon of blue through the dunes. Even more occasionally I’d see a pasture or a dirt track leading to some unknown desination over the horizon. It lasted like that all the way to Cervantes.

Just outside Cervantes I finally reached the Pinnacles. The Pinnacles are a collection of stone pillars that cover about 30 square miles in the middle of Nambung National Park just south of Cervantes. According to the favorite geological theory at the moment, the Pinnacles are the remnants of a limestone deposit that leached away through a complex combination of chemical and biological erosion. According to this theory after the limestone was deposited in the form of coral reefs, the ocean receded and a forest grew over the limestone. As tree roots gradually fractured the limestone, acidic groundwater leached into the limestone along the root channels and dissolved the vast majority of it. The Pinnacles are what’s left of the limestone, and they only exist where a calcrete layer between the limestone and the acidic forest humus was too thick for the roots to penetrate. Sounds good to me.

The Pinnacles are an eerie place. It’s always changing because being near the coast the wind nearly always blows, and the sandy soil shifts in the wind constantly, exposing new pinnacles and burying others as the dunes move. Most are roughly cigar-shaped, and to me they are faintly reminiscent of tombstones.

The landscape is almost completely without vegetation, but certainly not without life. I found emu tracks in the sand, as well many numerous other tracks that I couldn’t identify. I also saw a sand monitor on the road and a pair of emus just outside the park on my drive home. Emus are ugly birds and I found out that they are curious about people as long as people don’t show an interest in them. The birds were in the bushes along the side of the road and watched as my car rolled by and came to a stop. However; as soon as I got out to take a picture they bolted out of sight through the bush.

After driving and hiking through the Pinnacles it was time to head back to Perth. I was white-knuckling it all the way for fear of hitting kangaroos, but luckily the roos stayed off the road and I got back to Perth in the middle of the the night without incident.

1. Lancelin Beach

2. Me at the Pinnacles

3 and 4. More Pinnacles.

5. Emu track in the sand.

Speaking Australian - Part 2

Done a funny-this is the same as “stuffing” something up, but I like this term better. The other day when a virus got loose on our servers at the office I asked the administrative assistant what had happened. She replied “The system’s done a funny mate, and now we’re stuffed.”

Smoko-used to be a smoke break, but now that smoking is falling out of favor a smoko is any break from work. I think the sneaky one is gradually replacing the smoko.

Dunny-can be any toilet, but is mostly refers to a Porta Pottie or an outhouse.

Kenny-a fictitious character in an Australian mockumentary by the same name. Kenny cleans and rents dunnies for a living and he happens to be the most popular man in Australia at the moment, even though he’s not real. Just as you cannot be any keener than mustard, you cannot be any more Strayin than Kenny. If you don’t believe me Google Kenny and Australia and see what happens.

Willy willy-this is not a stuttering relative of mine, it’s a mini-tornado. Or as they call them in some parts of the US, dust devils.

Bottle O-Liquor store. There’s a local bottle-O chain that employs a guy in a yellow foam bottle suit to hide in the bushes outside their shops and jump out to serenade their customers on the way in (scaring them half to death in the process). They film it and turn the footage into TV commercials. He always jumps them on the way in, instead of on the way out when they could drop their bottles of booze on the pavement. He’s so considerate.

Bugger-We covered this a little bit before but I’ve realized since then that bugger is a highly versatile word. It can be an adjective meaning small or very little, as in “He’s got bugger all chance with that bird”. It can be a directive, as in “Bugger off, you bogan!” Just a simple “Bugger!” is an exclamation of disgust or frustration.

She’ll be right-To an Australian this means something between “No worries” and “It’s ok”. It’s also often said as a way of giving up and going to the pub when things are so feral they simply can’t be put right again. What’s that you say-a white pointer just bit your leg off? No worries mate, she’ll be right. You’re burning to death? She’ll be right, have a sneaky one and you’ll be heaps better. A death adder is sucking on your carotid artery? She’s a keen bugger, but she’ll be right. You get the idea. To be Australian is to be unflappably relaxed no matter what occurs, because after all, she’ll be right.

Ordinary or average-In Australia, ordinary means average, average means bad, and fine means good. Confused yet? If an Australian surfer tells you the waves are average, surf conditions are so bad it’s not worth getting the board out of the closet. If the weather’s ordinary, it’s pretty nice, and if it’s fine, it’s perfect. However, Western Australians are spoiled in the weather department, so it has to be really excellent to be fine. Anything short of excellent is at the very best ordinary, which is not really so bad, but nowhere near as good as fine. Got it?

Higgeldy Piggeldy-This is a close relative of feral, but it’s heaps more fun to say.

Budgie Smugglers-These are the little bikini bottom swimming suits that European and (unfortunately) some Aussie guys wear at the beach. A friend of mine distinguishes them from underwear purely on a geographic basis. If you can’t see the water from where you’re standing they’re underwear, if you can they’re budgie smugglers.

Sydney

History, architecture, and giant bats that fly around in the daytime-Sydney's got it all. I spent 4 days in Sydney a couple of weeks ago. It's not nearly enough time to see all the city has to offer but I did my best with the time I had.

After I arrived on the midnight terror (Australian for a redeye flight) from Perth I found accomodations and began the whirlwind tour. First stop was Hyde Park. Sydney is full of typical urban parks with fountains, sculptures, green lawns, and walks lined with huge trees, but the best thing to me about Hyde Park is the Australian and New Zealand Army Corps (ANZAC) memorial. It's a small rotunda at one end of the park. Inside you look down on a sculpture of a soldier laying on a sword stretched across the ANZAC insignia. Engraved into the wall all around are the names of the major battles and campaigns ANZAC has been involved in over the past 100 years or so. They also have an eternal flame for fallen soldiers and a small but well-presented exhibit of ANZAC history and artifacts. I didn't realize it before visiting the memorial but ANZAC has partnered with the US military in many of our major actions over the years, so ANZAC's history has closely resembled the history of our own military. Beside learning of our significant history of cooperation, I also learned that our troops probably weren't sharing rations in their foxholes. Most of us Yanks find Vegemite nasty but judging by the numbers of Vegemite tins on display at the memorial it seems that Vegemite is a critical part of any Australian soldier's rations while overseas. Apparently Aussies just can't get by without the stuff.

After Hyde Park I went to the Royal Botanical Gardens. It's a massive green space between the CBD and Circular Quay, which is the wharf in downtown Sydney near the opera house. It has all kinds of displays of vegetation from all over the world and is a great place to spend a day. It also has views of the harbour, opera house, and harbour bridge from the lower gardens. I was walking through a section of tropical vegetation from Indonesia or somehere like that when what I can only describe as a pterodactyl-like shape blotted out the sun overhead. I looked up to see the largest bat I'd ever seen flying through the trees. I looked around and realized that I was surrounded by hundreds of them. I later learned that they are fruit bats and they roost in the botanical gardens in such large numbers that they are killing the trees in the gardens. They sort of look like giant hairy brown teardrops hanging from the trees. I admit it was unsettling seeing a bat with a three foot wingspan flying around in the daytime and then realizing that about two hundred of his friends were staring at me from not very far away.

I finished up the day by doing some of the more conventional touristy things in Sydney, like walking the Sydney Harbour Bridge and checking out the opera house. Both are nice; the views from the bridge are pretty spectacular and the opera house is impressive, although it's a bit smaller than what I had imagined from the postcards. I also walked through some of the oldest sections of town by the base of the bridge. It's full of little old shops and pubs that have an out of the way feel to them.

The next morning I took a tour of Government House, which is the governor general's official residence in Sydney. The governor general is an appointed representative of the queen in New South Wales. The house was very stately, and the tour guide related some amusing anecdotes about the early government in New South Wales. For example, one of Sydney's first police chiefs or judges ( I can't remember which) was himself a criminal who had been exiled to Australia for a long string of offenses in England. After being shipped here as a criminal he had a long and illustrious career enforcing the laws he had broken at home. Another amusing anecdote concerns the artwork in Government House. At the time the house was built photography had not been invented, so the original decorations were all paintings. Of course Sydney was still a convict colony at that time, so it wasn't a very appealing place for accomplished artists to go to paint their masterpeices. The queen couldn't convince a qualified artist to go to Syndey to decorate Government House properly, so she commissioned an artist in England to paint scenes of the harbor and the surrounding countryside from written descriptions, and she shipped the pieces down to be displayed. The predictable result is that the paintings hanging in Government House today purport to represent Sydney and the harbor, but they look nothing like the real Syndey landscape, then or now. Of course the paintings can't be replaced now because they're priceless antiques, so the Governor General will probably just go on presenting a room full of pretty pictures of places that don't exist to foreign dignitaries.

After grabbing some fish and chips down at the quay and talking to some people from the US that I met on the tour, I jumped on the harbour ferry. The view from the ferry was of exclusive waterfront neighborhoods wedged side by side with ruins of prisons that held the worst of the worst transported convicts. We passed Sydney's version of Alcatraz, Fort Denison. These days they rent it out for weddings. As we passed the fort I had been having a very pleasant conversation with a couple about my age about life in Australia. The sight of the fort prompted me to remark to them that Australia, which is largely a safe, pleasant place, is what happens when you give the inmates the keys to the jail. I don't think they appreciated the irony and the conversation got a bit icy after that.

The ferry docked at Manly Beach, which is one of the better known surf suburbs of Sydney. It borders a headland that forms the north shore of the habour known as North Head. There is a waterfront walk along the entire beach that leads up through the woods on North Head. Apart from the water dragons that dangle from the rocks and trees along the way, the waterfront walk is reminiscent of a mediteranean stroll through a Greek village. If the the scenery wasn't enough to make me think I was on the Riviera, all the overweight Euorpean men in little bikini swimming suits completed the effect.

The views from North Head are spectacular. Cliffs hundreds of feet tall front on the Pacific Ocean. The bright blue of the ocean and sky create a striking contrast with the tan and red of the cliffs. Looking out over the ocean you almost expect to see humpback whales breaching offshore, and in late summer you've got a good chance of doing just that as they make their way up the coast from their summer feeding grounds in the Southern Ocean. If you turn around and walk through the woods away from the ocean you see the skyline of Sydney. Further up North Head there are ruins of anti-aircraft gun placements that were installed after the Japanese bombed Darwin at the outset of hostilities in the Pacific during World War II. Although Sydney was eventually torpedoes by Japanese midget subs, the aerial attack on Syndey never came, but the munitions magazines, gun foundations, and concrete bunkers indicate how seriously the Australians took the threat.

After walking around Sydney, Manly Beach, and climbing up to the top of North Head, I was knackered, so I decided to call it a day. There was nowhere else to go except off the cliff edge anyway, so it was back to Manly, across the harbour, and out for a nice Indian dinner in Sydney. I only had two days of work before I was to see what all the fuss was about at a big rock that I heard so much about in the middle of the desert.




1. Eucalyptus trees in Hyde Park

2. Sculpture in the ANZAC memorial

3. Fruit bats in the Royal Botanical Gardens

4. A curious fruit bat

5. Sydney Opera House

6. Sydney Harbor from the bridge

7. Government House

8. Water dragon

9. Cliffs at North Head

10. Antiaircraft gun placement