Point Quobba

Daph planned ahead for the leg from Denham to Carnarvon, anticipating another long and boring drive that was in danger of diminishing Ern’s will to live. Daph had arranged for plenty of pit stops to break up another long stretch of driving.

First stop, Eagle Bluff, a lookout point for dugongs and dolphins. Daph was excited.

Fail! Road closed. Much to Ern’s relief, because it was a flooded red dirt track. Oh, Daph! You’ve done it again.

Next stop, Shell Beach. Another dirt track.

Daph: “Oops.”

Ern: *Deep sigh.

Shell Beach is forty metres deep in tiny cockle shells. The shells get compacted and (*insert scientific explanation here, involving carbonic acid and coquina) turn into rock. Bricks were carved from compacted shells and used to build the restaurant in Denham. The sea is hypersaline (*insert another scientific explanation here, involving evaporation and something or other) so you can effortlessly float, but it was too cold to go for a dip to try it out. We had set off at the crack of sparrow fart, and the mornings are still icy here, even though the days are balmy.

Next stop, Hamelin Pool, to see the Stromatolites, whatever they were. Daph thought they may have been something like stalagmites or stalactites but had read somewhere it was an actual living creature. We found out from the tourist information board that they’re a microbial mat of bacteria that builds up in layers to create columns protruding from the seabed. This microscopic ecosystem is three billion years old! It's thanks to this miniature underwater rainforest that the atmosphere was oxygenated to create further life on earth. Amazing! Cheers buddies.

Onwards to Carnarvon, a short two and a half hours of straight roads to endure, where Daph couldn’t find anything else to stop off and see to make the journey more interesting. So Daph reverted to the party-mix karaoke again.

Arriving in Carnarvon, Daph and Ern didn’t get a good feeling about the place. We stopped to stock up on groceries, and there were more than a few shady characters loitering around. Moving on quickly, just another hour north, to Daph’s chosen stopover for the night, Point Quobba.

The Point Quobba blowholes are spectacular. We marvelled at the enormity of the waves for a while... Mother Nature showing off once again. Then we laughed and laughed as the Japanese tourists, who were posing in bikinis for photos in front of the blowholes, got drenched by a freak mammoth wave that crashed ashore. People have died here. Probably Japanese tourists. The ocean is a killer. Respect.

Just another eight kilometres further on to our campsite at Quobba Station and... oops! Dirt track. Again. Bumpy, rocky, dusty, pot-holey dirt track. Dirt track in High Definition. As it is, in Western Australia. Daph had an “Oh shit, I’m in trouble” moment as Ern’s body language conveyed “She’s done it again!” Daph thought she may have racked up some brownie points to get her out of this one due to her highly articulated plan to break this journey up. She had planned hard to prevent Ern’s driving despair that inevitably creeps in an hour before we reach our destination when the straight-road boredom plunges its knife deep into his back. But the eight-kilometre four-wheel-drive track on the final leg undid all of Daph’s hard work, and Ern sunk deeply into the abyss of “f**k it” fatigue.

The short drive took us forty minutes, driving at an average speed of twelve kilometres an hour to avoid rolling the Kombi in one of the many potholes, but it was worth it. Quobba Station is fantastic! A rustic sheep station in the beautiful wilderness, perched on the beach, where the gigantic waves crash in. We took a stroll on the beach and found a complete contrast to the tiny cockle shells of Shell Beach... here the shells are enormous! We got our feet wet, collected yet more shells for Daph’s collection, and then headed back to the Kombi to whip up a delicious chickpea and lentil curry. The aromas wafting from our camp stove were surely making all the other campers' mouths water.

Then we enjoyed the spectacle of space, sitting under a blanket of undiluted stars, before snuggling up in bed. The back door was left open so we could be soothed to sleep by the crashing waves. Heaven on earth. This is living.

Today we are off to Coral Bay.