Days 79-82 (20-23 Sep) Land of the Giants from Heel to Toe

Rays at Leeuwin Cape

Glance at the bottom left hand corner of Australia, where that foots kicks out in the “heel” position of the heel & toe polka. We have just waded our watery way from Augusta (the big toe) through to Albany at the southernmost point of WA (the heel) via Pemberton, Northcliffe and Walpole. Names invariably derived from European explorers and settlers. There are also many places down here with indigenous names such as Yallingup, Cowaramup, Quindalup, Nannup… Whazzup with that? Apparently “up” means “place of” in local indigenous dialect.

Let’s start with Augusta – right at the base the big toe. It was great weather for ducks. Such great weather that we observed a pair at the Augusta caravan park herding no less than 16 ducklings, who, fortunately for the parents, all seemed very obedient. I’m astounded a duck could even sit on so many eggs at once, let alone successfully hatch them. The damp weather was a good excuse to drive through north through the enormous Karri forests lush with wild wisteria and more arum lilies, and south down to Cape Leeuwin.

Ducklings at Augusta

Augusta pond

Driving through forests, South West Cape

Water laden roadsides, South West Cape

Wind swept tree, South West Cape

The indigenous name for Pemberton is Wandergarup - place of plenty of water. Most apt. It even rained inside when a previously undiscovered self-cleaning mechanism of the caravan suddenly burst into action. The kitchen tap nozzle achieved blast off due to air and water pressure in the hose, spraying a jet of water clear across the interior of our small van where I was directly in the flight path. It is not safe to remove your raincoat even inside down here.

Pemberton is a truly picturesque little village built completely of timber, named after Pemberton Walcott, who was part of an expedition party to the region in 1861. His preferred name for the town was Walcott, vetoed by the Post Office because he already had Port Walcott named after him. So Pemberton it was. Being a rather unblokey name, I can’t imagine “Pemberton” being used too often down here. What did his mates call him? Pem the Pom? Bert? But from this we learn that it is good to bestow upon your children a distinctive Christian name so that at least 2 towns can be named in their honour.

Cascades, Pemberton

Pemberton Village

Despite the late Pemberton Walcott being mostly forgotten, his town still boasts some remarkable features – the giant Karri trees. Living for 300-500 years and growing more than 75 metres high, they doubled as lookout towers for spotting bushfires back in the day. Long spikes embedded into the trunk spiral upwards to a viewing platform more than 50 metres up. Brave souls without heart conditions can still experience the climb. Most common souls are overcome with fear and vertigo after about 15 spikes. We visited the Gloucester tree. After watching a few climbers – successes and failures - we attempted a short distance upwards to get in the spirit of things, but decided we could do without that kind of rise in blood pressure. No one has actually died climbing the trees, but several people have had heart attacks after doing so. Many more need to be talked down after freezing in fear at the top like the proverbial kitten who climbed too high.

Walk Through Tree, Pemberton

Liz a little way up the Gloucester Tree, Pemberton

We passed through Northcliffe with a quick stop at the Visitor’s Centre for the Understory walk – a beautiful forest path with a series of art installations. A fire swept through a few years ago and left some ghosts in the trees; you may spot them in the pictures. We were unexpectedly detained here when we discovered four kangaroo joeys inside the tourist info centre. Their wildlife carer was looking for people to pat them as stranger orientation in preparation for the upcoming school holidays. We selflessly sacrificed half an hour to civic duty for the children by patting and cuddling joeys. Dave now wants a pet joey when we return home. We haven’t yet negotiated who will be doing the 4-hourly feeds overnight.

Dave & joey

2 month old joey (Liz)

Holding hands

Understory art walk, Northcliffe (Liz)

Understory art walk, Northcliffe (Liz)

Understory art walk, Northcliffe (Liz)

We finally tore ourselves away from those big brown joey eyes pleading for more pats and headed for Walpole, which was the original name of this township before it changed to Nornalup. Which is also the name of a place down the road – a cause of great confusion back in the ’30s. Walpole was always the preferred name, but that pesky Post Office wouldn’t permit it; some bureaucrat believing there was already a Walpole township in Tasmania. There was not. This was finally confirmed, and Walpole got its name back. Despite such an identity crisis in its childhood, the town is now firmly established as the home of the ancient giants – old growth red tingle and karri trees. The most famous tourist attraction is the Valley of the Giants Treetop Walk – a walkway suspended more than 40 metres high through an old growth forest. Exhilarating, but also a little motion sickness inducing due to the rhythmic swaying of the metal walkway as people moved along it – some, with all the grace of an elephant.

Giant Red Tingle, Nornalup

Giant TreeTop Walk, Nornalup

Last but not least, we climbed Mt Frankland, which is actually a huge solid granite rock. Still raining and late in the day, with cloud shrouding the summit, we had the place to ourselves. We donned raincoats to do the walk and climb the final 300 stone steps which come with a warning – “Do not climb if faint of heart or foolhardy!” We were rewarded at the top with the sun breaking through the clouds, and a full rainbow appearing. Dave’s last word on the matter: ‘“There’s no point in climbing!” she said. “You won’t be able to see anything anyway!” she said.’

There will be no getting out of any future walks now, whatever the weather.

Mt Frankland

Cape Leeuwin Lighthouse