This is my fifth and final day in the boots around this beautiful Peron peninsular. I am walking from Herald Bight to Monkey Mia.
Sometimes adventure bites you hard in the proverbial, exposes weaknesses and tests your resolve. Are you ready?
Herald Bight was there in all of its glory that early morning. Shortly after being dropped off with the advice this was “an easy walk” and cynically told to “just keep the ocean on yer left” by my skilled adversary, I left Herald Bight behind and cut across the base of Guichenalt Point through a splendid Herald bluff..
Maybe you have realized by now that my mind wanders into the almost insane when I hike for long periods of time. Today my thoughts were drawn to the many different shapes of boulders on the beach that would have broken off the top of the cliff in a random, unpredictable time gone past and thundered down with brutal force. What would it be like to be crushed or bowled over by one of those? I spent time watching the tops of those red walls feeling very small and vulnerable. After a short time I became complacent about the rock-crush idea.
How does that happen?
Halfway through the dodging of the always stationary boulders I spotted a large turtle above the tidemark. On approach, I knew something wasn’t right. No turtle tracks were coming up from the beach and its body was sitting too low and still on the sand.
How does that happen?
 |
| Boulders of fear |
Halfway through the dodging of the always stationary boulders I spotted a large turtle above the tidemark. On approach, I knew something wasn’t right. No turtle tracks were coming up from the beach and its body was sitting too low and still on the sand.
 |
| Death giving me a wink |
Having seen the energetic egg-laying lady turtles from Dirk Hartog Island only a week earlier I was horrified to find this turtle in a semi-decomposed state with hollow eyes staring at me. The feeling of horror exacerbated by a yellow ghost crab hiding from me in its right eye socket, while a much bigger yellow crustacean completely uninhibited started tearing strips of skin off the turtles face. Near vomiting, my hands moved automatically and started taking (possibly) inappropriate photographs of this Haloweenic scene. What does that tell you Mars? Swim as hard and fast in the ocean before letting the ghost crabs in.
 |
| "You've come near enough" |
Being even more determined to survive the day I continued on and experienced the stark contrasts nature has to offer when a large white breasted sea-eagle allowed me to come within ten metres. The graceful bird took flight, posing for the camera as it expanded its mighty wings.
 |
| Taking to the air |
 |
| Thrashing about in the shallows |
I was very pleased that during this last day the sharks were back, putting on a show in the shallows. Some of them were thrashing wildly exposing almost their entire body; some were so close to the shore I could have put a leash on them and taken them for “walkies”!!
 |
| Shark swimming here.............................................semi grey nomad walking there |
 |
| Looking back from Cape Rose |
In the distance I saw an odd shape in the water. What is it? I strained to look at it through sweat- burning eyes. It looks like a goat. It is a goat. What’s a goat doing in the water? Why isn’t it moving? Is my educated friend playing a prank on me here? Has he thrown a taxidermy goat in the water just to freak me out. Nah, that's too far fetched. I am rubbing even more stinging sweat into my eyes trying to lose the spell of an exhaustion fuelled hallucination.
 |
| Goat of silence |
When I drew near, the goat had still not moved an inch and stayed half submerged in the bay. Shark Bay no less. Overlooking nanny goat there were two kids half a metre tall. They look as baffled as myself and are patiently waiting for mum to come out of the shark infested water. Time passes, and except for some pleading bleats of the young ones, nothing changes. I come to the conclusion that nanny-goat has passed on to a better place in goat heaven with lots of green pastures and billy goats to frolic with. Several options run through my mind.
I just take those gangly kids, one under each arm, and walk the last couple of kilometres to the ranger's office in Monkey Mia and say: "Hello, meet Billy and Kid. I found them down the road but you can look after them now. See ya!!!"
Or
Let’s just take these cute little rascals back with me to the national park we live. Wait!! Isn't there a full goat eradication program in swing? Would I not be taking a non-native animal into a national park? Yes, you would.
 |
| How can you not take me?? |
I chose to do the ever-so-hard option after severe internal dialog where swearwords were hurled back and forward at each other. I walked.
One last glance over my shoulder confirmed the death of the nanny goat as she collapsed into the water. "It is nature’s way" I tell myself.
I reported Billy and Kid's predicament to the rangers office at Monkey Mia as soon as I got there. Feeling like a tired stranger in a fully blown resort with dolphins cruising past and people sipping Pina Coladas on deckchairs as if nothing ever happened, I realised that I had finally completed my walk with sharks.
 |
| Walking into the Monkey Mia resort |
After my office visit I managed to stumble down to the beach where, without changing, I walked straight into the hyper-salinized water. It proved to be a big mistake. Six hours of hot, sweaty hiking had chafed the dark region where the sun ain’t shining, red raw. Literally, rubbing salt into the wounded proverbial was a nasty shock, but maybe apt punishment for not doing enough for the wildlife today.
 |
| Cruising past |
As Olivia Newton John once sang: Let’s get philosophical.
Luckily, I had the absolute privilege to experience the raw peninsular wilderness that taught me much more about survival, death, nature's balance and human limitations. This may be something that we all could learn more about in this beautiful setting that is the Peron Peninsular.
However, dear readers, a large part in my
heart calls out to discourage you not to walk in my footsteps. I have found pristine biridas, beaches untouched by coconut oiled humans, sharks to walk with, drop boulder bears and, ooohh, those
amazing cliffs of Shark Bay. Nature, here on the peninsular, needs to be protected from our human frivolities and kept in that crude,
fragile balance I found it in. It is a dangerous place to be, even for semi-grey nomads. Yeah Mars!! Even by writing about Shark Bay I am guilty of generating
more interest in a place that may be best left alone.
In the end the choice to travel into Shark Bay and
explore its coastline is up to you. So, if you go, please, take care!!
Grey BitsI was reassured by my erudite comrade that baby goats, the same height as the two I saw, would have no problem surviving on their own.
Please note, that this hike is through very wild, uninhabited country. In my opinion it is not advisable to attempt this hike without a support team or proper communication devices like a satellite phone or EPIRB and hiking experience is a must.
Let the Department of Parks and Wildlife know where you are going to be and when you plan to return. Phone (08) 9948 2226 or click on the following links www.sharkbay.org, www.dpaw.wa.gov.au for more information.
 |
| The end |
No comments:
Post a Comment