Esperance, Kalgoorie, The Northern Goldfields ... and another Hut!

After overdosing on whales and wild flowers at Point Ann, Sandra was keen to have a look at a small town further along the coast called Hopetoun. Arriving after a very convoluted 4WD journey through Fitzgerald River National Park, made additionally convoluted by road closures and dodgy navigating, we found Hopetoun to be the proverbial one horse town. However, with no sign of the horse, we left town and headed along the coast looking for somewhere to doss for the night. This coastline has numerous beaches suitable for camping and we settled down for the night at Masons Bay, yards from the usual pristine white beach, blue sea, blue sky etc (one can get very blasé after a while!)

Esperance was our next port of call, a big town (pop about 15,000) and where I planned to get the Nissan’s rear brake pads replaced. Camping in the area had been really “sewn up” – you have to go to one of the commercial sites in town or one of the official approved sites out of town, anywhere else and you get fined. The nearest “official” out of town site was at Cape Le Grand 65k away – so off we went.

Cape Le Grand is a wild and beautiful place with two camping areas – Le Grand Beach and Lucky Bay. So far we had seen very few other campers in this part of the world and on many nights we were used to having campsites to ourselves. With darkness about to fall we were staggered to arrive at Le Grand Beach to find a “Campsite Full” notice in place, and we were similarly out of luck when we arrived at the ironically named “Lucky” Beach site. About to scout around for a bit of “illegal” camping space, a passing Park Ranger took pity on us and said it would be OK to pitch our tent in the bus parking area next to the slag heaps – “Oh, Lucky Man!” Out of the shelter of the trees, when the wind got up and it started to rain (yet again) we didn’t have the most pleasant of nights although the good old Oz tent coped easily with all that the elements could throw at it. We had planned to stay in the area for a few days but, come morning, we packed up and headed back to Esperance – it was a beautiful area though.

The new brakes for the Nissan took a couple of hours, which gave us time to look around Esperance – no one horse town this but a very attractive, vibrant place with a lot going for it. One bit of minutiae which both amused me and perhaps helps sum up the town was a quote to be found on the outdoor artwork in the centre of the town which gives a history of Esperance from the early days up to the present – “No traffic lights yet, let’s keep it that way”

My everlasting memory of Esperance however will be the highly embarrassing incident at the Bay of Isles Lunch Bar although there may not be enough space in this blog to relate the sordid details.

Brakes fixed, mid-afternoon and we are heading north on the Coolgardie – Esperance Highway and on our way to Norseman which is the gateway to the Nullabor. The Nullabor Plain is a vast area of pretty much nothing (the name means No Trees) and is traversed by the Eyre Highway which most people travelling East-West in this part of Australia are forced to take. It has the longest, totally straight bit of sealed road in Australia – 146ks with no curve, bend or deviation so matchsticks to prop open ones eyes are essential equipment.

We camped in a clearing a couple of ks off the main road at a place called Dundas Rocks. We were now in Goldfield country and in 1892 this was the site of the old goldmining town of Dundas (another Scottish connection?) although very little remains. The Rocks, a large granite outcrop below which we pitched our tent, had small walls built on it to channel the water into a dam which was the settlement’s water supply – these walls, and the dam, can still be seen. With very little rainfall and a burgeoning population of prospectors, miners etc, water was more precious than gold and people would pay up to a shilling a gallon for fresh rainwater or 25 shillings for 100 gallons of condensed water - enormous sums of money.

On a 4WD track from our campsite into Norseman we came across much evidence of the area’s mining history including vertical and horizontal mine shafts. At one point I even got out my shovel and tried a bit of prospecting myself – but with no luck! Near the site of the “Break o’Day” mine we came across the old cricket pitch used for inter-mine matches. Laid in 1895 the wicket is still in place although a little worn in places – I couldn’t resist taking a stance although, as the photo shows, my batting position still leaves much to be desired!

Norseman, when we eventually got there, seemed to be a tired, run down little place lacking in obvious appeal – not helped that we had brought with us from the coast both the wind and the rain, and it was cold! We decided to give the Nullabor a miss for the moment and head further north to a place, the name of which has, for some unknown reason , stirred my imagination for years – Kalgoorlie, Capital of the Goldfields.

Our first impression of Kalgoorlie was its size. Since Perth, a large city, most places we have visited have been pretty small whereas Kalgoorlie has a population of over 30,000. It is a city dominated by one industry – mining – and in that respect it reminded me very much of Mt Isa, although this time the mining is for gold from a huge open cast Super Pit over 3k long and 500m deep.

Water supply to a large population in such an arid region has always been a problem and, as we stood at the viewpoint on top of the Mt Charlotte Reservoir above the city, I realised that Sandra and I had now, unwittingly, completed a journey which began several weeks ago in the Perth Hills. With John and Marie we had gone on a trip to Mundaring Weir just outside Perth to look at the dam built as the water supply for Kalgoorlie and from which water was pumped overland for over 600k – and now here we were at journeys end.

Water was not the only commodity required by the miners and to service other needs brothels proliferated with over 25 in one street alone. Today these have dwindled and only three are still in operation - however it is interesting to see that these have moved with the times. It has been accepted that their murky past is also part of the town’s history and, in addition to fulfilling their traditional role in the community, for $20 it is possible to go on a Brothel Heritage Tour – over 18’s only. I would have like to stay in Kalgoorlie a little longer to soak up a bit of the heritage – however Sandra, somewhat prematurely I thought, decided it was time to move on.

As I type this we are in Goongarrie and living a shearers cottage (another hut!) Goongarrie Station was established in 1927 to run sheep but, due to the marginal nature of the country and water supply problems, the station was abandoned and in 1995 it was bought by the State Government. The original homestead and various outbuildings still stand and have been made wind and water-tight and we have temporarily taken up residence in what was the shearers cottage - used to accommodate workers during the shearing season. It’s pretty basic but does stimulate the pioneering spirit – life in those days must have been hard. The corrugated iron exterior blends well with the plywood interior and life with our co- inhabitants, particularly the bats, makes for never a dull moment!