December 3rd
A hectic schedule today. We are leaving Margaret River and heading for Tall Tree Country, but before leaving the Cape we want to see Jewel Cave – the largest of three limestone caves in the region, and Leeuwin Lighthouse, the most southwesterly point of Australia, and where the Southern and Indian Oceans meet.
Earlier in the week our aboriginal guide explained that the suffix “up” – meaning “place of” is still used for many town and village names. I delight in the fact that “Cowaramup” used to be the centre of the local dairy industry, and looking at the map, I’m hoping that Nannup is the place where grannies run day care centres, that ManjiMup is the speed-dating capital, and that Quinninup has a fertilisation clinic.
Jewel Cave, meanwhile, is on Caves Road. It was opened up to the public some 50 years ago after being found via a twisting solution hole leading down from the forest floor, You can still see the hole from the inside of the cave, which gets its name from the sparkles in the calcite stalactites and cave straws that abound there. The spun sugar cave straws – just a water drip in a diameter, with some dangling 5m from the cave roof are especially beautiful. Others have formed crystal droplets at the bottom and look like Christmas tree baubles. In another area, the calcite formations look like an underwater coral garden, and in yet another, the closely packed stalactites hang together like organ pipes. When the cave was first opened some of the crystals reflected in an underground lake. This disappeared in the 1980s – at about the same time as local farmers were encouraged to plant new forests – but it could return if the water table rises again.
We drive on through Augusta – another town named for an English woman, the pioneering settlers obviously had romance in their souls – and Flinders Bay, a wonderful stretch of beach with no-one on it – to Leeuwin Lighthouse. A sign at the entrance says snakes have been sighted and warns us to stick to the paths. I am on snake alert for the rest of the day.
Cape Leeuwin – named after the Dutch mariner who first spotted landfall here in the 1600s – was one of the busiest sea traffic routes on the Australian coast, particularly in the days when most Australia-bound ships travelled via the Cape of Good Hope. Before the lighthouse was built in 1895, there were 21 shipwrecks along the rocky stretch of coast. Afterwards, there was just one and everyone on board was rescued by the lighthouse keepers. The mechanism and the light itself were made in Birmingham and shipped out to Australia – and are still in perfect order – though the light is now automated, and no-one is required to climb to the top and hand crank it for 15 minutes every two hours. Both the Aussies and the Kiwis love to claim that things are the tallest, biggest, oldest, and this impressive lighthouse is no exception, being the tallest in mainland Australia. The view from the top is worth the climb. We have been lucky to visit Cape Leeuwin on a good day, and not when the wind is blowing at 150km/hour. The storms in the Southern Ocean are legendary as there is nothing between here and Antarctica, 5,000km south. It’s a stunningly blue-sky day again, and as we walk out onto the parapet, a pod of dolphins are playing in the waters below – at the very point where the two oceans meet.
Stopping for a fly-plagued picnic lunch in average tree country, we drive onto Pemberton, home to the Karri Forest trail, and the heart of Tall Tree Country. The Frenchman ahead of us at the tourist information demands to know the three things worth seeing here. He dismisses their most famous landmark – the Gloucester Tree – claiming it’s not high enough, at over 60m. The tall trees here may not be the biggest, but the light-filtering forests are spectacular. We drive and walk to Beddelup Falls, the Cascades and along the Heartbreak Trail - a long and hair-raisingly steep off-road track down to the river, named by the poor sods who cut down the trees to create it. We become expert in identifying karri (shed their bark) and marri(ooze red gum) trees, but are never quite sure which are jarrah. They are all eucalyptus, so you can only tell them apart by their different bark. Our final stop is Big Brook Reservoir – again surrounded by ancient forest, and part of the ubiquitous Bibbelum Track, which we seem to have followed throughout our journey. We eventually realised the track starts in Perth and finishes in Albany – our final destination on this road trip. A paved track surrounds the reservoir, and I idly wonder if this is to keep tourists like us safe from snakes and spiders. Robin pooh-poohs the idea, until I spot a green snake half way across the path! It raises its head to take a quick look at us and then slithers back into the undergrowth. We spend the rest of the walk discussing what we would do if one of us was bitten by a snake. Neither of us has a clue – but we later find out that we would need to bandage the limb tightly and splint it. Make note to carry bandages and sticks on walks from now on.
But our encounters with the natural world don’t stop there. As we drive away from the reservoir a large kangaroo leaps out in front of the car, followed by a smaller ‘roo. We are atravelling slowly enough to slam on the brakes and stop. Not sure who had the biggest fright – the kangaroo or us.
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