Shark Bay

Denham... the most Western Point in Australia, and a town made of seashells! Daph’s idea of heaven. But Daph was kind of disappointed.

Denham is a detour off the main highway north and takes a bloody long time to get to. It’s off the beaten track and not on the way to anywhere but here. The tourist board does a great job of enticing people into this area with promises of dolphins, dugongs, turtles, and sharks frolicking in the waters of Shark Bay. But you have to pay a fortune and go way out to sea in a boat to see them.

We could’ve driven twenty minutes across the peninsula to the dolphin resort, where the dolphins are pimped out for the tourists, but it will never be as good as seeing them in their natural glory at Whyalla. So, we gave it a miss and just hung out in Denham.

We have had a lovely day, doing nothing much in the beautiful sunshine. It’s been a nice break from the relentless straight roads that go on for an eternity, and the torrential rain.

From Geraldton to Denham, we have gone from winter to summer in one “short” stretch of road. Yesterday we were freezing our cockles off, wearing multiple layers, and getting cold and wet in the rain. Today, the shorts, T-shirts, and sunscreen have been called up for action. It’s been a perfect day, with blue sky for miles.

We went for a short stroll through the town, boycotting the expensive chartered shark dives, then spent the afternoon chillaxing in the Vitamin D fest while listening to smoooooth jazz. Well... Daph did, whilst Ern fixed up stuff on the Kombi and polished his baby within an inch of its life, ready to get more red dust on it tomorrow.

We still have the promise of sea life at Eagle Bluff on the drive out of this peninsula tomorrow. But the consensus around here, according to the abundance of Grey Nomads in this caravan park, is that Coral Bay is the place to go. Luckily, that’s on the agenda in two days’ time. The flippers and snorkel will have to wait until then.