Well, it’s that time of the year, so in keeping with the print media tradition, we bring you the holiday read of our travels on the Indian Ocean Drive en route to Perth……an extended play version of our travel blog so to speak. A new installment will be posted each day till Christmas eve. So you can binge read the next three installments or space them out. Naturally this will be followed by the traditional Christmas break, and we’ll be back in the New Year. Here we go…….
Freshwater Point North
Seventy two kilometres south of Geraldton, you have two chances to get this wrong. At the first T-intersection, you can turn left to Perth or turn right to Perth. Now, Google maps has been a godsend on our travels so far, but does not cover user error. Tamika and I had a full and frank discussion over following Google Maps or the bleedin’ obvious (look out the window you fool!). Fortunately, logic prevailed and we turned right onto the Brand Highway. A further twenty three kilometres along, we spotted the turn-off onto the Indian Ocean Road and so began our newest adventure.
There were several beach side camp sites to pull into along the way, Cliff Head, Freshwater Point North and Green Head.  We arrived just after lunch at Freshwater Point North, mainly because we missed the turnoff to Cliff Head and Google Maps was proving somewhat unreliable in this neck of the woods. The beach and car park looked worse for wear. We found out later that a series of heavy winters had eroded much of the beach front and available parking.Â
Still, we managed to squeeze ourselves into the corner at one end, out of the wind and set up for a couple of nights. A knock on the door a couple of hours later, introduced us to Rosie, local council employee, collector of site fees, indentured keeper of local knowledge and avid rumour monger. We discovered that Freshwater Point was a landing spot for the local lobster trawlers, which explained the odd looking boats in the bay and the ute with the refrigerator on the back parked nearby. She breathlessly confided that one of them went out for days at a time – clearly it was drugs or worse.
So upon hearing the possibility of fresh lobsters turning up on ‘our’ beach the next day, Tamika gave me a mission that I had no chance of choosing to accept or not. Now, bearing in mind that we had no cash in hand, I had to parlay two lobsters from these guys, or there would be more consequences than usual. The next morning two of the boats had gone out to haul in. Around 10am, a truck turned up. The driver jumped out, jumped into the ute and backed it across the sand to the waters edge (he forgot to put the handbrake on but rescued the situation just in time). Seizing the moment, I oozed myself across the sand and sidled up next to him. Unfortunately, no, the boat owners were not allowed to sell off the beach. However, HE was also a part time ‘lobsternee’r and had caught 27 that very morning. What could I offer him? It seems a friendly wave from Tamika back at the van was all that was needed. Our new BF was clearly imbibed with the Christmas spirit and nothing else was required to complete the transaction.
So, the next morning, the truck returned with two cling wrapped crays sitting on the front seat, fresh caught that morning, complete with how to cook instructions. Tamika was very thankful and I was very relieved. We followed his instructions to the second, adding only a side of garlic butter to complete this gastronomical mana from heaven.
We were learning quickly that the winds could kick in anytime after lunch on any given day. So a walk along the beach with the wind at the back, you were Cathy Freeman but on the way back it was more like Scott of the Antartic. I felt empathy for the lone seabird, rocking back and forth, trying to keep his perch in the teeth of this gale.
The next morning, we checked out and headed south another 50klms to Sandy Cape National Park, a destination that would prove one of the highlights of our journey so far.