After yesterdays early morning, we decided a bit of a lie in would be in order today. As a result it was near enough to 10:00AM when we got up and closer to midday by the time we got moving. I was getting concerned that this wouldn’t leave us enough time to see all that we wanted to, although I shouldn’t have worried. As it turned out, we would be stymied by the dogs again and the inability for them to follow us into the national park.

Without being able to take the dogs into the national park, we weren’t able to take in the lookouts and precipices of the nearby gorges, which while a shame, renders us as good an excuse as any to return to these parts some day. With the gorge lookout crossed off our agenda for the day, we instead headed south of Exmouth to the memorial for those that served with ‘Z’ Force during World War two. I was initially unsure as to the reasoning behind locating the memorial out here, seemingly in the middle of nowhere, but my confusion was soon clarified. This was the exact launching place of the ‘Krait’ when it departed for its highly successful mission against the Japanese. The decaying remains of the original jetty, or at least a series of pylons jutting raggedly from the sand, from which the boat set off on its journey are still visible, leading into the water like three ranks of soldiers standing to attention.

All that remains.

Closer to town on our way back in, we came across the aptly named Pebble Beach. With no more or less pebbles than most of the beaches around here, the pebbles here are of a particular type however, and are even protected. Before attaining their protected status, they were harvested in bulk for landscaping purposes, almost to the point of extinction.

The dogs weren’t overly impressed with having to scramble over the mostly smooth pebbles to go for a walk, but upon reaching the sand they were up for a bit of a run and a chance to go exploring. They were buggered by the time I lifted them back up into ‘The Beast’.

Worn out.

For a bit of fun, we next took a drive around the new marina, where the houses aren’t all that great looking, but I guess it’s the access to your own private mooring that is the big selling point. That said there are still plenty of vacant blocks up for grabs, many of them as a result of mortgagee sales. It made me wonder what the issues were in the area, as when we peered through the window of a local real estate agency later the prices didn’t seem too high. Much in line with what I would expect to pay for a suburban Melbourne block of land. Of course, that wouldn’t come with water views, let alone a personal mooring, while out here, you’re miles away from anything. I guess there’s trade off with everything.

Having had a gander at the property market, we stopped in town to stock up on a few items. Namely a crate full of the Matsos Cider that Bec was yearning for and a bottle of good Shiraz to keep me quite. We should know by now that shopping while hungry is a bad idea though, as we also soon found ourselves drawn to the fishmonger for another pile of prawns that would be perfect for a late lunch.

Back at the van, we hungrily devoured the sweet, tender prawns some of which were bigger than my thumb. Each one disappeared to an accompaniment of crunches as we bit into the firm white flesh.

With yet another kilo of prawns reduced to a small pile of shells and remains, I headed out to ready the fishing gear. Since our sightseeing had been curtailed a little today, we decided to give this angling caper one more try. Surely we can’t go home fishless three days in a row? So, with the rods all ready to catch us our dinner, we loaded everything into ‘The Beast’ and off we ventured.

The beach we’ve been going to is about 15 minutes north of Exmouth and regardless of the fishing action, it’s a beautiful beach on which to stretch the legs, wade in the cool water or just sit and relax on a camp chair, as Bec generally does if she hasn’t caught anything in the first 10 minutes or so.

Sadly, our bad luck on the wet end of the fishing sticks continued today. I’m putting it down to bad luck, as it has been said that around Exmouth you can almost catch a whopper on a bare hook. We barely even felt a nibble today, let alone coming close to hooking the big one for our dinner. We gave it a good shot though, putting in a couple of fruitless hours, but in the end the fish beat us good and proper.

Heading back to the van, our dinner plans had to be rearranged somewhat to take into account the distinct lack of fresh fish with which to line the sizzling skillet. Take away pizza and pasta ended up hitting the spot, which I counted as a perfect solution to our dining conundrum, as red wine and fish really isn’t a match made in heaven anyway.

An interesting little side note before I go tonight and before we leave Exmouth tomorrow. I was looking at a map of Australia late last night and it struck me that we are quite some distance away from home. I quickly measured it out, although rather inexpertly so I may be well off the mark, but it appears that Exmouth is actually the farthest we can get from our hometown of Melbourne, while remaining on the mainland. According to ‘Shazza’ we are almost 3,500KM from home as the crow flies. So, to anyone reading this all the way back in Melbourne, “G’day”, from the other side of Australia.

Until next time, stay safe, have fun and don’t forget to write.