Up the hill and away and a spotting of a Great White

After the thunderstorm of the previous night we decided to stay another day at Sandy Point – partly because it was a nice place but also to let the road dry out before attempting the steep tracks out. We had a nice lazy day of reading, exploring and making use of the clean waters of the Snowy River where I was lucky enough to catch a glimpse of a Great White basking in the water!

The rare Great White of the Snowy River

This next bit's not for the squeamish!

What is the best way to dispose of your toilet waste when camping on a site with no facilities? Sandra and I are at odds on this one. Her theory and practice is to treat it like you would a dog in your local park i.e. do it on the ground, pick it up in a pooper-scooper bag and take it away when you leave. Not my cup of tea at all. I prefer finding a site away from the camp and any water-course, digging a hole big enough to contain the offering, then filling the hole up afterwards. Enough of that.

Returning from putting theory into practice

The following morning we packed up and prepared to tackle the hills out of Sandy Point. Preliminary examination of the “road” revealed that a lot of the road surface had been washed away and the ruts, which were big on our way in, were even bigger now. Before attempting the ascent however we had another problem – the front near side tyre of the Honda was as smooth as a baby's bottom – not much grip there I'm afraid, and we would need as much grip as possible. The ground was so boggy that to try to jack up the car would result in the jack going down the way rather than the cap up. So it was down to the river to look for a suitable flat stone (which I have kept for possible future use) Wheel changed we were set for the hill.

Not much grip when grip was needed - and a stone to place the jack on

We had re-arranged our loading to ensure that all the heavy equipment was inside and light stuff on the roof to give us a lower centre of gravity. Sandra walked up the first hill in order to give directions and to take some hair-raising photographs. Unfortunately she was so stressed she did neither so no photos for the blog I'm afraid. Engaging first gear, and hoping the automatic 4WD would kick in, we set off – no problem at all, I don't know what all the fuss was about !!

Back onto the “main” road and less that 30 minutes into the day's journey, we hit our next problem. Sandra asked me to stop so she could take a photograph of a tree but then we found the car wouldn't start. There didn't seem to be enough juice in the battery to turn the engine even though we had been running for half an hour. It was a repeat of what had happened in the Goulburn River National Park a few weeks ago. Once again, as at Goulburn River, our salvation was a wizened old man in a beat up wreck of a car. Looking like some sort of skinny hilly-billy with a straggly beard down to his chest (Australia's full of them) he gave us a jump start and we were on our way again.

We stopped in Bairnsdale, a pleasant fairly large country town with wide streets and a good range of facilities including places to buy tyres. Wanting heavy duty tyres to cope with the rougher roads to the north and west I tried two places and was told the same thing – they don't make big, rough, tough off-road tyres for a Sydney hairdresser's Honda. I had to make do with the best quality tyres I could get – at $210 a time – plus I had the wheel alignment checked and adjusted.

Whilst the tyres were being done we had lunch in the pub and, because I had good internet access via my mobile gizmo, I sat on a park bench and posted the blog whilst Sandra did a small grocery shopping. An hour later there was no sign of her – she had gone AWOL. Thinking she might have gone back to the garage I re-traced my steps, but still no sign of her. Eventually she strolled into view surprised at my concern, her only comment being “Spotlight (a craft/material shop) had a 30% off sale” - she had bought material for a tablecloth for our camp table!

It was now getting late in the afternoon and we had no idea where we were going. After about 100k we reckoned there was a small campsite near a place called Woodside on the Woy Wron Road – and thus we found The White Womans Waterhole.

Legend - or maybe it was truth - has it that in the 19^th Century a white woman was captured by a group of Aborigines and armed search parties scoured the countryside looking for her. Notices were posted on trees throughout the district hoping that she would see them and make contact with her erstwhile rescuers. Interestingly enough these notices were in two languages – the first part in English and the second part in what may be Gaelic. Perhaps any reader familiar with the latter could clarify. Certainly the name of the person leading the search suggests a Scottish connection – Angus McGregor.



The search for the "captured" white woman - was the notice in Gaelic?

As most people know the McGregors were a bad lot and this particular specimen went on the rampage killing many of the indigenous people, supposedly in retribution for the abducted white woman, but I suspect just to further his land acquisitions in the area. It is doubtful that the white woman ever existed – however she now has a waterhole in her honour which is hosting Sandra and I for a few days.

From our waterhole we forayed out to Port Albert, once the main port for this area of Victoria, then on to Agnes Falls – apparently the highest waterfall in Victoria – then on to Wilsons Promontory National Park. This is the most southerly point on mainland Australia and we were duly captured on camera.

Agnes Falls - Victoria's longest single drop waterfall

For the gourmets - a bush breakfast

We are planning a trip to Melbourne sometime in the next week and have decided to do it like real tourists. No more skulking around forest campsites – we are going to book into a hotel, take an open top bus around the city, visit lots of museums and galleries - in fact be a bit more civilised and keep ourselves out of trouble – Perhaps!