Silver Schoolies No More - Chapter 15 - Port Hedland to Pardoo Station

Our next point of call is just over 100 kilometres from our present location. There is no hurry to move this morning. In fact we are not supposed to book in until after 2.00pm, meaning we have time to kill after bugging out at 10.00am, all things being equal. Our sites are booked on line and Robyn has received a confirmation suggesting we can actually get in from noon.

We have a couple of things to do. Firstly there is a birthday gift to get into the mail, plus one of the gas bottles has decided enough is enough, having worked tirelessly since we left home in May and has given up the ghost. Well, run out of gas if the truth is better reported.

Overnight I have received a message from my friend Shaun, a ranger at El Questro who lives in Wyndham, quite indignant about our plan to use the local caravan park as our base when we visit. He insists we are using his place. No worries, we will concur.

In the end we only hit the front gate with 5 minutes to spare. Robyn decided the book exchange in the office needed a louse over and be a home for books now consumed and I slept in after the big walk from yesterday. Did a couple or three bourbons have anything to do with the tardiness, given there are no hangover symptoms thanks to the C-Pap machine, I am going with Not. My story and I am sticking to it.

From Blackrock Caravan park to the centre of South Hedland shopping centre was my walk yesterday so I am quite versed in where I am going. I show Robyn some of the sights I saw as I wandered. Soon enough we drive past the Post Office and I let Robyn out, suggesting I will do a blockie and pick her up.

Best laid plans of mice and men if you believe John Steinbeck. I see the chance to turn and I take it. Unfortunately I have headed down a dead end street. Thankfully there is enough room to do a 5 point turn midway down. A local cleaner looks at me as I perform the turn, wondering if I will get stuck and he will not be able to continue on his dutiful way. Oh ye of little faith. I make the turn and settle the Cruiser and van at the start of the street, in view of the Australian post shop.

The turn has apparently stretched the plugs between the van and the Cruiser and I am getting the brake alarm again. This was not supposed to happen after the work done on it the day before yesterday. Having parked the Cruiser I alight and check the plugs, taking them out and replacing them to ensure proper connection even though no apparent movement has occurred.

Back in the van and foot on the brake – no alarm. Apparently I have “fixed” it.

Robyn seems to be taking come time in the Australia Post shop. When she gets abc she tells of a double function shop much like Coral bay and she had gotten into the wrong line and ended up trying to re-register something rather than put her gifts in the post.Than kfully the postal workers simply took her next and she was out.

Back in the Cruiser she hears the brake alarm. I thought I had fixed it but its going again. We need to fill the gas bottle which, in the Cruiser has fallen forward to just behind the driver seat. Checking the route to Port Hedland Yamaha, the auto electrician is on the way. So they are our next port of call.

Andy who had been so helpful on Monday is not there. The receptionist is helping other customers as I walk in. I tell him of my predicament and he suggests his wife is the person to talk to.  As soon as he opens her mouth you know this is the right person to speak to. Her insight into the issues far outweighs that of Alex of Andy from Monday. Whilst they had attacked the problem with a lineal approach, the outcome although at the time effective, was only symptom fixing. 

This lady talks of the problem as if she has dealt with it on many occasions and corrects the thoughts of the cause and gives temporary solutions that might alleviate the noise, because they are busy and unable to take the time to investigate and fix the real problem. For the moment the alarm is silent. We head toward the gas refill and sure enough it starts again.

We will simply have to deal with it until we get to a centre where someone has the time and the expertise to potentially re-wire the entire coupling points or have the diagnostic equipment to find the source of the issue. It certainly isn’t in the Cruiser (or is it) as the alarm only occurs when the van is attached. The Red Anderson plug, the thought as to the issue only deals with the EBS rather than the brakes so my mentor at the auto electricians thinks that isn’t actually the issue.

I suspect she thinks there is a fault in the actual alarm system in the Cruiser, triggered intermittently, then because the Cruiser cannot reset the problem continues to blare until the source of the original message to the computer is removed. Given the alarm still blares without the Red Anderson plug being coupled would tend to back this up. That is of course unless the issue is with one of the other plugs.

One all is the score for now. Australia Post converted, auto electrical failed. Off to get the gas bottle filled. If I simply wanted to swap and go, the sourcing of a refill would not be an issue, but Denty and Dentless are family and to let them go is not an option. The shop at the Caravan Park gives a list of potential gas bottle dealers, but only one refills them.

This business is around the corner from the auto electrician. We park and I wander in with Denty in hand. There are customers checking on potential new boats and others looking over caravans. I walk up to the sales desk and am met with, thats OK you can pick it up in the morning. 

Not an option unfortunately, we are on our way. Are there any other places we might be able to find in Port Hedland? No – I am the only business that does bottle refills. Its understandable, he is busy so i do not labour the point. Denty has lasted 5 months, Dentless will be OK until we can refill his mate.

With Denty safely back in his pigeon hole we set the GPS to our destination for the day and we are off. The wind is going to be an issue today. Across us and off the starboard quarter. The buffeting is enough to keep me to 90kph. It will be a slower trip than usual.

The topography is the usual unyielding flatness of the mid northwest with the occasional hill or mesa thrown in for relief. Its now 11.00am and the temperature gauge is showing 35 degrees outside. Inside we are at a comfortable 22 degrees and far away from the blaring brake alarm, we speed towards our destination. 

For a while the large ore road trains pass from in front, then as we pass the turn off to Marble Bar they stop and only the occasional caravanner and other vehicle pass. In the 100 or so kilometres of the trip to the turnoff to Pardoo Station we are passed by no more than 5 vehicles. Everyone is apparently moving away from the ever increasing heat of the wet season. Only us Cowardesq “mad dogs and Englishmen” are heading north.

The GPS is only taking us to the turnoff. It is some 13 kilometres from the highway to the station. On the dirt we stop and open the dust vent in the van and I readjust the plugs between the van and Cruiser. Back in the Cruiser there is no alarm for now but the corrugated road might have something to say about that.

Booking online. Taking away the need for human interaction, allows us to enter the park and find our spot without the need for registration at reception. We find out why they suggest 2.00pm, because they close the shop for a 2 hour lunch from noon. Makes sense.

On entering the park we find a local worker struggling with a quad bike and trailer. She directs us into our assigned spot and heads on her way. My attempts at squaring the van in the site are somewhat skew-if but the awning will be able to be deployed without issue.

Set up in the heat of the day. 

Once done a quick look around and then put the head down for a moment. 2 hours later I awake to Robyn editing videos and working on her business rather than in it.

There are very few patrons in the park. The area is well treed and there is lots of grass, but the temperature is forbidding evidently. In my wanderings I move from our sites, around the enclosed area of the park, to container-like structures for workers and visitors. I wonder am I in a restricted area as I seem to be walking past the home of the owners, but all of a sudden I am in from=nt of the shop again, so I feel I am OK

I notice a large boat being parked and I wander over to hopefully get some tips on local spots. Nigel, his wife and 2 kids are “old hands” at Pardoo Station. They visit here often. They are sheep farmers out of Perth with a passion for adventure.

Nigel and I talk at length about shearing and sheep farming as well as land prices and the effects the current stresses on housing prices might mean for the investor. He has been a shearer and like most shearers his back and knees are done. Unlike a lot of shearers though he has smartly invested in farms and has the ability to vacation, enjoying the fruits of his labours.

He talks of having taken his boat, which sleeps the four of them adequately, to the horizontal falls and of his desire to do the Broome to Wyndham trip, which logistically will mean ensuring refueling points along the way even though he suggests he has a 600 kilometre range fully fueled. 

The boat is out of the water today because the low tides are too low to keep it moored in the Pardoo Creek. They are on their way soon and boating is no longer possible for them. Nigel suggests the boat ramp area is probably the best option here, catch some live baith with the throw net and seek to turn them into something larger.

While I am talking to Nigel a large Great Dane like dog wanders past. Shortly after a bike rider races past in pursuit. Interesting seeing the sign at the start of the park suggests all dogs MUST be on a leash at all times. Some dog owners certainly cannot read.

The phone reception and internet are enough here to mean I am contactable and toward the end of the day I get two calls which I have to deal with. One the son and daughter in law of one of my original clients is having issues with a finance application, which I refer to a very good broker I know in their area. He will be able to assist them.

The other is a tyre kicker for Property Portfolio Solutions who had suggested one of our potential property investments did not stack up. Now, having done more investigation, tail between his legs so to speak, wonders if he can invest in the project I sent him. Of course he has missed out.

Its sunset and we go for a walk around the park. If the park is 10% full that might be an overstatement. There are wallabies feeding on the green grasses in the areas where no caravans sit. We can walk very close to them and take pictures before they hop away. Their starkness in the setting sun makes for excellent shots.

The sun does its normal setting spectacular. Once down we call Silver Leader and Rose for a catch up. They talk of wineries and chocolate factories in the Margaret River area as well as being rugged up in the cool of the night. It has been raining and the station they are staying on are struggling to get sheep shaun in the wet weather.

The its time for dinner. The crumbed cutlets are on the menu tonight. They are disappointing after what we are used to at our local Club in Smiths Lake but go down OK with asparagus and salad.

The Great Dane is barking at the wallabies. We trust this will stop before we retire, or words might be said. He stops for a moment and then starts again. I suspect management will be all over this as their house is not far from the noisy animal.

It might be worth trying to get some start shots tonight. With very few patrons in the park the options for set up may allow for some half decent shots. Unlike Eighty Mile Beach a month or two earlier, its much warmer. Its a bit too bright. The moon is in the first quarter and high in the sky, generating much light pollution.

I get some shots as Venus, Saturn and Jupiter are still very bright and send them to the astronomer daughter.

Even with the afternoon nap I am done and bed calls. Tomorrow is another day with all sorts of expectations of a piscatorial nature.