Walking with sharks: Day 5, the end

Please note that some of this story is hard to stomach and has a theme of death that crops up more than I wished for.



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?

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

 

 

I sat down after rounding Cape Rose for a long lunch, four hours into my walk, trying to reset my aching body. This proved not an easy task for the semi-grey nomad. Rather stiff, I kept a slow pace at the water’s edge towards Monkey Mia which had come into view at Cape Rose. With the temperature rising above thirty, the Southerly dropping out all together and the humidity levels feeling steam-room high, it became uncomfortable to walk. The beautiful white, sandy beach disappeared making way to treacherous rocks and slippy banks of granite. That's all you need.





Looking back from Cape Rose

 

  

Two kilometres from the end my body felt seriously depleted. I start eating all my leftover snacks and began to drink my unfrozen, but cold, two litres of water that I saved for the end, having already drunk four litres of water today.

 

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 Bits


I 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 best time to walk around the Peron Peninsular is at low tide. You can check the tide at www.seabreeze.com.au

The end

Saving a Thorny Devil


Saving a Thorny Devil

What lays beyond the gate of the homestead? Where does that red dusty trail lead to?



The view from the yet to be built look out at Big Lagoon

It was our first Monday at the homestead. All was quiet and peaceful. Our chores had been done, breakfast was had, the kettle had been put on. Ranger Chris had other ideas. He burst around the corner in his Parks and Wildlife ute and in a dusty cloud came to a screeching halt in front of the caravan. He hopped out and asked us if we wanted to join him on a field trip. I stuck my hand up and jumped at the chance. Julie had planned other activities so a boys day out it was. Big Lagoon in Francois Peron National Park was his destination. Ranger Chris lowered his tyre pressure to 16psi – he said that you could even go down as low as 12psi for traversing through heavy sand. As we are driving over that dusty red trail with tyres almost flat, Ranger Chris chatted about “Parks for People", conservation.in general including management of feral animals, regeneration and protection of native flora and fauna.


Closer to Big Lagoon the one lane track started curving sharply left and right giving you that “sitting-duck” experience in regards to oncoming traffic.


After arriving safely Ranger Chris showed me where the new campsite and lookout was going to be built, overlooking Big Lagoon. We walked past some low bushes and Ranger Chris started explaining that this particular bush was Shark Bay Sandalwood or ‘Santalum Spilatum’. He explained that the branches, when cracked, smelled like sandalwood and showed me some of the nuts that were hanging off the branches and some were laying on the ground. He said the nuts, when roasted for ten minutes, tasted like macadamia nuts and were eaten by the Indigenous people of the area.




Sandalwood bush

Later on I found on the Shark Bay website (sharkbay.org.au) that there used to be an industry in Shark Bay making perfume and cosmetics from this bush. Emus are known to eat the rather big nuts whole and then poop them out leaving a more fertilised product behind. It shows how important Emus are in the eco system. Good luck at both ends Mr Emu!!

A Sandalwood nut ready to be swallowed whole by an Emu. Good luck with that!

Ranger Chris showed me many more interesting nature events within a small area – for example there was a hopping mouse trail on the side of the dune and a bush of which the seeds were taken and buried by ants and thus replanted.

At some time during our short drive back from Big Lagoon, Ranger Chris suddenly veered out of the 4wd grooves and stopped. He yelled out to me – "Thorny Devil" and hopped out of the car. I carefully followed him and walked to where a lizard-like creature with grey-yellow spikes and skin armour was sitting in the middle of a tyre track. "Did you get him"? I asked Ranger Chris concerned. "Nah! – he’s alright" was his reply. "Well" said Ranger Chris. "This is your chance to do some conservation of your own". "What do I do"? I asked him. He replied "Just put your hand underneath him, lift him up and place him in the bush away from the road. If we leave him in the tyre track he will just get squashed". "Ok." I said – "let me get my camera first" thinking of Julie and my blog readers in mind.



Picking the little dragon up with my hand was a strange sensation. The Thorny Devil looks so ferocious yet is surprisingly placid and slow. Again later I read that the males bump their heads against each other when the are fighting over a female. Hard to imagine these gentle creatures getting the momentum to kiss each other Liverpool style.


As carefully as I could I scooped a large hand of sand up with the little reptile on top but when the sand had left my hand, like an hour glass, the devil was sitting on my hand, softly prickling my skin with its body armour. I took a real close up look at this prehistoric looking survivor and then placed it carefully in the bush. A burst of happy energy ran through my veins all day from that moment on.



A Thorny Devil making tracks.
Slowly