The Heysen Trail 4. The Forty Kilometre Man

 

It is said that you can judge a man by his actions. Well, I became a little concerned about my own sanity when I arrived at Cape Jervis. All the passengers on the bus hopped onto the ferry to Kangaroo Island except me. There was I, alone, a small entity next to a big, open ocean. It was only I who took the turn past the trailhead and disappeared over a hill. ‘Is this really such an extraordinary, unusual, mad thing to do?’

I woke up my three stooges (read the blog ‘Heysen trail two’ if you want to know what it's all about) that morning at 4am to check the time - surely, it had to be time to get going. Way too early, I walked the convenient 300 metres to the central bus station where friendly Sealink staff looked after my huge towering bag - a nickname of my backpack will spring to mind soon. The markets around the corner were open for fruit and veg and I bought some cheap apples and carrots that would hopefully stay fresh in the top of my tower of agony.

It was a beautiful bus ride towards Cape Jervis. At first we hit the terraces in Adelaide with its broad strips of parkland looking pretty in the morning rays. Then suburbia, Lego style, floated by for some time. The hills rolled on and were soon covered with splashes of autumn coloured vines, evidence of our salubrious society - the McLaren Vale wineries begging for further investigation.

I could have sworn that we had arrived in the English country-side when our trip turned into a surreal episode of 'Escape to the Country'. Large, green, grass-covered hills stretched on as far as I could squint into the early sun. An English gentleman with a Wallace of the and Grommet series spoke  inside my head  "These rabbits do 'ave a funny way of hopping about, Grommet”.  
 

The unusual shaped light-house at Cape Jervis

In Cape Jervis I ordered my last barista made, liquid hug at the café, for what would have to be the last one for some time and sat down next to a young man who told me he just walked in from Bridgewater - near Adelaide. He asked me not to sit too close because he hadn't had a shower for a while – always a sign of a fair dinkum hiker. We talked for a while and he told me it had taken him four days to the Cape at a pace of around 40km per day. I was stunned!!! What a pace this young super-human had set! I told him I would be very happy to make it to Victor Harbor in five days, less than half the distance of his walk but in more than double the time. He told me his pack was very light with the downside that he would go hungry at times. "The more you carry the slower you get" he said while ogling my column of torture standing forlorn in the corner of the café. I followed his gaze and thought with happiness as well as trepidation ‘Looks like this snail will have enough to eat’.

"Look out for the slimy, green stuff” was one of his parting pearls of wisdom. I thought it was only polite to nod and grunt in agreement even though I hadn't a clue what 'the green stuff' was. I was about to tell him that I didn't smoke marihuana and was sure that I could fight off whatever spawn Kermit like monsters would throw at me, but thought the better of it.

The 20 something year old marathon-a-day-man was kind enough to take some photos of my fresh features before I finally set foot on the trail.




Raring to go, stick at the ready but unfortunately facing the wrong way

I would like to acknowledge the Ngarrindjeri or traditional owners of the lower Murray river, the care takers of this land I am about to travel through. 

With the last shot of caffeine buzzing in my brain I took on a flat trail along side my old friend the ocean. It only took five minutes to start whooohoooing and I bawled out a courageous "Yeah!" and a "Yeah man!!" 

Waves were lapping gently at the black rocks. The air, carried in from the ocean, left a salty flavour on my lips - or was that sweat already. All that sea, sun, salt and wind culminated in a strong sensation, one sorely missed by a desert dweller like yours truly.

The green hills soon required a bit more effort when a series of calf-burners stopped my random howls of ecstasy.

A seven strong pod of dolphins swam by while I stood high above them on a cliff. These dolphins were magnificent, powerful and much bigger than I remembered. There has always been something liberating about watching dolphins or whales glide past. 'Not bad for my first morning on the trail' I thought.



This is as close as I could get with my camera

In a meadow of sheep and kangaroos I sat down to have my first meal on the track overlooking Kangaroo Island from afar. When you still have fresh provisions, lunch can be a real pleasure. Try minestrone soup with a fresh bread roll and several blobs of melted goats cheese to carve out of the bottom of the bowl. A 'MasterChef' winner any day.
 

Identical double twin Kangaroos in front of the ocean

I was surprised to find that my phone was still barred-up and I had a long conversation with Julie while enjoying the 20 degree winter sun. Only 10km out from where I started, I enjoyed the longest break in the middle of the day lazing about in the green, green grass .
 
‘No 40km for you laddie, not today, not ever!’ said Wallace.

 Grey Bits

Sealink run regular bus services from Adelaide to Cape Jervis every day. Here is their link www.sealink.com.au




The Southern Ocean and, if you look carefully, Kangaroo Island in the distance

Stories of the Air: The Rock Without Name

The air freighter cleared Temple Bar within seconds and prepared for landing. The pilots were looking through the window into the black, moonless night. Suddenly, a huge, dark shape burst into view. Frantically, the pilot grabbed the controls and yanked them back as hard as he could, trying to lift the plane in a last ditch effort, but it was too late……

On a crisp desert morning my companion and I decided to challenge ourselves with a hike to the crash site of the Westwind 1124 VH-AJS.  I drive by this site almost every day and look up at the inhospitable cliff face in wonder, tinged with a feeling of morbidity and a kicked-bucket, full of awe.

 

The kangaroos on the edge of the escarpment

There isn’t a track to be found except the ones Kangaroos have ground out. The first 300 metres was steep, with slippery rubble and several loose rocks that tumbled down the slope disturbed by my large, clumsy feet.  Lexi, who was following me at the time, jumped sideways to avoid the avalanche and  decided to run around me and lead me out. Smart dog!

In an exhale of relief and with a fine layer of sweat to offer the cold wind, we reached the flat area up the top.  From below, it doesn’t look like there is any room, but there is a spinifex covered strip of level ground along the range about 200 metres wide in most places. It seems that birds, reptiles and kangaroos have lived here without any disturbance for many a year.

 

Dodging spinifex all the way

 

 

And then the unthinkable happened during a dark night on 27 April 1995.

Rod Cramer heard the explosion of 14,000 litres of A1 jet fuel at the Temple Bar Caravan Park from about 4 km's away and put his SES (State Emergency Service) uniform on and made his way up to this yet to be named rock.

“Initial impact occurred when the right wingtip tank struck a rock on the north-western edge of the escarpment. The first major impact occurred 60 metres further on when the landing gear and the lower fuselage struck large rocks. The fire trail began at this point. The aircraft then progressively broke up as it continued across the top of the escarpment before cart wheeling into a ravine on the southern side. The wings and empennage, along with both engines, were at the base of the ravine. Most components had been severely affected by fire.”

Information taken from the report of the Bureau of Air Safety Investigation

First sighting

My heart sunk and a lump forced itself into my throat when I came across the first piece of debris, a small metal rectangle with two screws neatly punched through the metal.

Feeling uncomfortable about something, I continue on in a diagonal line across the top of the range. I found torn metal, smashed boxes with wires and unrecognisable bits and pieces that once formed a sleek machine that sliced through the sky with ease.

The broken wings flung some way down a narrow ravine - this is a sad place to be.

 

Grass starting to take over

The two pilots and a passenger, the report stated,....died instantly.

 

Rod spent 24 hours on top of the range and found himself in charge of recovering the three bodies. ”It is one of the hardest physical things I have ever done” he said as the loaded stretcher had to be hauled up the steep, rocky slope and carried to the helicopter on top.

He knew a couple of people that worked on the recovery that were affected by what they saw. Rod used the words ‘privilege’ and ‘respect’ to describe his feelings of that night - he appeared to be at ease talking about the whole ordeal.

Photo of an identical Westwind 1124 VH-AJS

 

Cargo was spread around everywhere according to Rod. People's tax returns were found and bizarre specimen jars of human tissue.  A huge amount of US Dollars had scattered itself across the top like a lucrative snowfield.

Rod - third from top left in training at Kings Canyon with his SES mates

 

How can such a thing happen?  What in earth's name causes a well-equipped, modern plane to crash on a mountain?







A piece of hose

 

The crash report of the Westwind is an involved, detailed document. The plane's engines were humming in the background on the cockpit recorder. This means  the crash wasn't caused by any mechanical failure. The investigator concluded in his report that the minima was set too low by the pilots being a recipe for disaster. It was set for 2300 feet rather than the prescribed 2700. A pinch of forgetfulness with a few grams of shortcutting and some inadequate checking of the flight path finding it's way on the menu. It becomes clear in the report that the two pilots didn’t get along, had argued on a previous flight and that any discrepancy in altitude could have been ignored due to their, this time fatal, level of ill-feeling towards each other.




Part of a water bottle

This is a beautiful spot, high above the life and sounds of Ilparpa Road. The views from here are spectacular – The Gap – Airport – Temple Bar – nothing but sky. A white cross is now standing near the broken wings of the Westwing overlooking the world.

 

Lexi looking down at Ilparpa road from the initial point of impact

On the way back, Lexi started chasing kangaroos and I could hear her yapping delightfully in the distance, even though she would never be fast enough to catch any of them. My mind went to the guys that lost their lives up there, wondering what it would be like. Staring imminent death in the face, much alike looking into the barrel of a gun that is about to go off. Never mind who was at fault, who was squabbling with who or who forgot what. The truth is that any man who faces such a final shock like these highly skilled pilots and their passenger did, makes them, in my opinion, heroes in their own right.

Lets not forget that they belong to families that never saw them return. Their spirits forever lingering at the rock without name.

 

The cross on the edge of the ravine

 

 Grey Bits

Let your mind rome to the amazing job the SES are doing. Well done for making our world a better place to live!

If you want to check out the SES and maybe even join this valuable organisation as a volunteer, check out this website www.ses.sa.gov.au

If you like to have a read of the full report of the Westwind crash you can find it on my website
https://www.facebook.com/storiesfrommars

If the range ever were to be named, I suggest we call it the Westwind Range.

 




This willy wagtail appeared surprised with our company

Kangaroo tails

 

The nightscape at the Peron homestead

 

The hills are alive out the back of the Peron homestead.  You can find red dust, bush, goat skulls, a heck of a lot of wildlife and an old Bilby enclosure only 300 metres away.  This was a successful program ran by DpaW as part of Project Eden. There is now proof on camera that the Bilby population is bouncing back from near extinction at Francois Peron National Park. We were told that there are several Bilbys still hanging around the old disused enclosures overlooking the homestead.

 

The old Bilby enclosures

Enter Mars and Jules – those semi-grey nomads that love the wildlife. ‘Let’s go Bilby spotting tonight!’ they say.  Armed with two massive torches we climb the hill in that eerie Australian night-scape and discover for ourselves how smart Bilbys are and do not appear when you want them to. Their ears are huge and they must have heard the virtual ‘boom-box’ footsteps of ours from miles away. Disappointed, we returned down the hill where we strolled past the goat enclosure. This is a fenced off area with two gates – it is there to capture and remove goats from the national park.

 

The goat enclosure with emus that just don't understand.

 

Shining our torches into the enclosure we spotted a mighty Euro kangaroo with bulging muscles sitting on the edge of the trough having a casual drink. Even though we were standing there for quite some time, at the entrance it was not noticing us at all. Suddenly it got spooked and hopped very fast toward us. I stepped forward and with arms in the air, I yelled ‘Whaaaa’!!!! This big missile jumped sideways very quickly and missed crashing into us by a mere whisker. As we are still thanking our lucky stars we soon realised we were under fire again, as a second, but smaller Euro flew towards us at breakneck speed missing myself by a hairs-width, but cannoned into Julie’s legs. Julie was scooped up into the air and for a couple of seconds was awkwardly-perched, balancing on top of the head of the briefly halted torpedo and gently slid down landing with an undignified thump to the ground while letting out an eardrum splitting squeal. Julie was obviously shaken but miraculously unhurt. While the Australian bowling champion hopped off into the darkness, I did the only thing a man (a nervous man) could do in this situation – have a really good (unappreciated) belly-laugh.

 

 





A kangaroo at dusk contemplating the next move

 

Please note the following story may be disturbing for some readers.



Fast forward two months where we are campground hosting for a couple of weeks at Canebrake Pool  near Margaret River. It is an early Saturday morning and we are driving to Busselton to participate in the Geographe Bay parkrun. We are both in a terrific mood and laughing about a Dutch couple we met the previous day who were very taken by the ’28 parrots’ that are common as mud in the south-west. Dutch accents are flying around in the car and when hilarity reaches its crescendo the grey back of a Kangaroo suddenly appears in front of us for a split second and immediately disappears with a “clonk” underneath the car. I pulled over straight away in a daze and remembered to switch on the hazard lights. My heart sinking as deep as it will go. I can hear Julie starting to sob uncontrollably “Oh, no, it has broken its leg” she said choking on the words. I think;  I can’t do this. I stepped out of the car and walk across the 20 metres of red slightly corrugated dirt track towards this amazing creature. She is on the ground writhing in circles trying desperately to get up.






I made the decision very fast and looked for a rock. After I found the right size (how do I even begin to know what the size should be?) I returned back to the car and turned all rear vision mirrors away from where Julie, who by know was seriously distraught, would not be painted a permanent brain image of her “man?” brutally killing a harmless, undeserving, native being. I walked back the 20 metres as if it was my green mile and stood over her. I placed my foot on her shoulder to turn her head sideways but I am surprised about the animals power as she struggles free. I can’t do this. The next image has been burned into my memory ever since. The roo is facing me now with her front paws extended towards me. She looks at me with those dark eyes and almost manicured eyelashes  straight into my soul as if to say” you are going to help me, aren’t you?” In my mind I violently steel myself to ignore this look and manage after several attempts to pin the roo down with my foot.  I can’t do this. Slowly my arm rises above my head. I look up at my hand and the white knuckles that are squeezed around the rock. I can’t do this. This is it Mars. I look at the side of her head and aim to kill for the first time in my life.

The end.

Dear reader, I have to interrupt this story and turn away the rear vision mirrors for you the same as I did for Julie. I hope what I ended up doing was the right thing for this exquisite animal and do not think it is necessary to describe the events any further.  


Grey Bits

 

I was driving seventy five kilometres per hour. Way below the legal speed limit when the car hit the roo. There was no time to avoid her. 
 
There is more risk when you are driving at dawn and dusk to hit our native wildlife. Try to plan your trip accordingly, please. 

Please check the pouch of a female Kangaroo for Joeys after an accident.

Give the pouch a good inspection
 

Do not put a wounded Kangaroo in your car. They are very strong and can easily hurt you or your family.

Do not corner a Kangaroo or Emu. They have an inbuilt fight or flight sense that triggers them to run in random directions. They will run straight into you as Julie can vouch for or they may hurt themselves sometimes fatally by crashing into walls, fences and cars. 




Emus panic too

  
We have bought sonic animal devices that emit a high frequency pitched sound that may prevent wildlife running towards a moving vehicle. You can purchase these whistles from any Auto shop.
Kangaroos cannot see very well but their hearing is sharp. Try yelling something when you want a Roo to take note.  Maybe a few profanities in roo lingo may do the job.

How would you feel if you had to kill a Kangaroo given the same situation? Are you prepared to do the job required? Do you know the best way to kill a kangaroo as humanely as possible? Would this be a life changing event for you?




A joey in full flight

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