Around the West in 90-Odd Days: Days 83-84 (24-25 Sep) All About Albany

Aiming for somewhere to stay slightly out of town, we settled on a little caravan park in Frenchmans Bay. It was slightly eccentric, mostly accommodating long-term tenants, but the tiny facilities were exceptionally clean and the scenery gorgeous. Situated in the lee of a bay, its postcard wooden jetty accommodates anglers in the early morning before a large squadron (yes, it's a squadron!) of preening pelicans move in to take possession of it a little later. Dave enjoyed having a sunset photography spot right outside the caravan door – which would have been perfect if the sun had actually shone.

Jetty at Frenchmans Bay

Jetty by night, looking towards Albany city

A Squadron of Pelicans, Frenchmans Bay

A new attraction opened here just a few months ago – The Gap and Natural Bridge. The Gap entails a marvellous feat of engineering, a walkway cantilevered some 40m over a huge narrowing rock chasm (the Gap) where the ocean channels through beneath, sending impressive plumes of sea spray skywards. Or in this case, feetwards, right underneath us.

The Gap, Albany

The Natural Bridge, Albany

Rearranged letters (Liz)

A bit further down the road we visited the Blowhole, which, despite the wind, was so impressive (not) that Dave nearly walked right over the top of it without realising. Not that that is an unusual occurrence, I’m often yelling “stop” on our walks to prevent him treading on a snake or lizard.

The nearby Cave Point Lighthouse stands on such a windy point that even the letters on the signs have rearranged themselves (see right).

Lights in lighthouses are a bit passé these days. The beacon here has been replaced with satellite technology – it has a radio receiver for emergency response signals from vessels in distress. Nearby we were thrilled to see a large pod of dolphins – up to 15 – hunting back and forth in the shallows of the bay.

Hunting dolphins, Cave Point (Liz)

The coastline is so rugged and wild down here the Council doesn’t know which warning signs to put up, so outdoes itself in graphic signage (as shown below). I'm sure not how we got out alive, but we did.

Coast warning, Cave Point

A huge rock - estimated to weigh 100 tonnes - has washed ashore on one of the beaches, giving some idea of the strength of the southern coast. I suspect Albany hasn’t been washed away because it stands on a bedrock of solid granite. A signature characteristic of this city is the large boulders the size of houses that crop up everywhere; dwellings and roads are just built around them. There are countless interesting rock formations in this region. We visited the famous Elephant Rocks, which, incidentally, really stank – not unlike a dead elephant – and watched with interest as a lady considered a little ocean bathing. Despite the sunshine, the wind was bitter and the water freezing.
“It’s so cold!” she said.
“Well, nothing between us and Antarctica here” I laughed.
“Really?” she said. Um, yes, really.

Do they look like Elephant Rocks to you?

Elephant Cove

Elephant Cove / William Bay

Elephant Cove/William Bay

On Saturday we were off to Discovery Bay – a tourist destination on the peninsula with an old whaling station, wildlife park and botanical gardens. We spent five hours there, but needed six or seven (they kicked us out at closing time). We got to crawl all over the Cheynes IV, a genuine old whaling ship now run aground for tourist tours. In addition to the rigours of whale hunting we learned that you should never insult the ship cook’s food (you’ll have a meat cleaver hurled in your direction), and to stand clear of the coiled harpoon cable when it is fired (one poor guy lost his lower leg due to standing in the wrong place). We greatly enjoyed the sea discovery films (including 3D) and a warehouse of huge whale and other sea creature skeletons.

Onboard the Cheynes IV, Discovery Bay

Cheynes IV, Discovery Bay

Blue whale skeleton, Discovery Bay

Dolphin skeletons, Discovery Bay

Over at the wildlife park we met a koala called Frank, rescued from being mauled by three dogs; he consequently has no ears. So you can actually call him whatever you want, he can’t hear you. There were at least six white boomers, but they won’t be racing Santa Claus through the blazing sun, because they get sunburned too easily. We were also intrigued by the bush stone-curlew, also known as the “screaming woman” bird; its eerie wailing from the bush has caused many people to phone the police.

Woylie / Brush-Tailed Bettong

Sunburned white boomer (kangaroo with a rare condition known as leucism; reduced pigmentation)

Frank the koala. Don't talk about the ears.

Curlew "screaming woman" bird; male protecting a nesting female

Tawny Frogmouth

'Allo allo

Another white boomer

School holidays commenced this weekend, and the population at tourist sights was exploding. Back in Albany we did the rounds of the Heritage Park and watched the downhill mountain bikers commence their runs from the top of Mt Clarence, the main roads through town being cordoned off for this event. This military memorial park looks out over the King George Sound, the point from which allied Navy ships sailed during the war, Albany being their last view of Australia as they departed for distant shores. The historic military battlements retain the impressive guns installed to protect this strategic harbour during World War II. Only one shot was ever fired in anger – at an errant Dutch ship – but this warning shot across the bow fell embarrassingly short of its target and apparently didn’t frighten the naughty Dutch sailors at all.

Australia & New Zealand Memorial - The Great War, Albany

Mountain bikers awaiting their turn - top of Mt Clarence, Albany

Gun placement, Heritage Park Albany

Being out of town at Discovery Bay on Saturday, I had difficulty obtaining a copy of the Weekend Australian on Sunday. The supervisor in Coles condescendingly advised me “it came out yesterday”. I gritted my teeth and restrained from informing her of the definition of “weekend”, or pointing out the dozens of copies of the Weekend West Australian still stacked on the shelves right next to us. I get the distinct feeling she knew I was from the east coast, and does not think much of people from there. Don’t worry, lady, the wise men came from the east, and we’re heading back there.