Townie on a NZ smallholding

Townie on a NZ smallholding

Wednesday 20 March 2024

March 2024


Peter returned safely from his jaunt back to New Zealand.  All was well at the ranch, and he managed to catch up with the boys while he was there.  It was quite a hot week there too, so he didn't suffer in the chill of a Marlborough summer!  The Pilbara is definitely showing signs of a seasonal change - shorter days, lots of evening thunderstorms and lightening, day temperatures generally hovering around 33 degrees, occasional rain showers.  When we drove to Karratha last week, there was water in the previously dry riverbeds and even a few small pockets of standing water.  I'm hoping the wildflowers will pop up soon too.  And I'm very much hoping that the humidity will sod off.

Ironically, I've bought a jersey to wear at work.  The aircon in the L&D annexe, including my little office, has been working its arse off, keeping the place intermittently uncomfortably cold.  There are other zones in the hospital that are also fridge-like.  It turns out that the dastardly humidity is stuffing up the air quality in operating theatre, to the extent that it's been unsafe from an infection control perspective.  Engineers have sorted this out, but the consequence is rogue aircon elsewhere in the hospital.  I sometimes go outside for a quick walk to warm up and end up feeling lightly grilled.

    

Dusk holds dark shadows and far too much potential for slithery and creepy critters to be out and about looking for a bite or two.  Daily beach walks are still a thing, though the shorter days mean we have to leave home earlier to be out in daylight.  Currently that gives us until around 6:15pm, but that will get even earlier over the next few months (no daylight saving in WA).  The plus side of this is that we get to see lots of beautiful sunsets.  And that provides opportunities for me to practice some photography techniques learned from an online iPhone photography course.  I'm really enjoying this, and quite aware of how boringly snap-happy it's making me.  So be it.

      

                                             

The Port Hedland reefs are sources of endless fascination (and nowadays, endless photos).  The rocky formations are mesmerising and ever-changing with the tides.  The reefs that are totally immersed at high tide are beautifully encrusted with oyster shells.  These create a jewel-like image when the sun is shining on them, enhanced by light reflected from sea salt.  Millions of little rivulets of tidal flow are in constant motion across the sandy zones. I can (and do) spend hours just exploring and taking it all in.  One evening when we were reef-hopping, Peter spotted the unmistakable sight of a shark's dorsal fin in the shallow coastline.  It was a reef shark, around a metre long, and was soon joined by half a dozen of its mates.  They were an absolute delight to watch, but I really wasn't tempted to join them.  Funnily enough, nor was Peter.  They swam along and back several times, presumably rounding up dinner.  Or as I prefer to believe, happily playing. 

            

Another cyclone didn't make landfall but definitely churned up the ocean.  The sea was choppy for days, and lots of weed and other debris were washed up onto the beaches.  On Cemetery and Pretty Pool beaches, heaps of jellyfish were strewn on the shoreline, either dying or already dead.  Also a puffed-up puffer fish and a gazillion cuttlefish 'bones'.  Apparently, cuttlefish live fast and die young after mating and egg-laying - so what we're seeing is a seasonal post-procreation event rather than a mass suicide.

                     

                                             

Peter's full-face snorkel arrived and it's kinda working for him.  He can float around and observe, but still can't get enough breath to actually swim.  We've snorkelled a few times at Pretty Pool and unfortunately the water hasn't yet been clear enough to see very far.  One time the current of the incoming tide was so strong that we could barely stand up, let alone stay still underwater to see anything.  At other times, only close up viewing has been possible, so we won't be getting any visible warning that more distant sharks and crocs are closing in!  I have an underwater iPhone case and hope to get some fab sea life shots, but as the crappy photos attest, there's obviously more to it than just getting the equipment.  Clear water will definitely help so hope we can find some of that on our travels someday. 

           

Corals are abundant along some stretches of beach, particularly Cemetery Beach where the photos were taken.  They are very much more like the ones on the east of Australia and it's really lovely to see that the mining industry hasn't totally decimated them here.  The rock pools host so many life forms, truly amazing ecosystems.  Octopus Soccer is still keeping us entertained and serves the purpose of focusing your eyes and mind on what's in each pool.  You don't want to accidentally surprise an octopus (or a jellyfish for that matter). 

                          

Sharon the Osprey still visits from time to time, and usually calls to alert us to her presence.  We see many ospreys on our beach walks, and new birds on Peter’s list include mangrove fantails, masked lapwings, stone curlews, Australian bittern, and once (possibly) a brown goshawk. Lizards of many kinds and sizes are also common sightings and always a pleasure (unless they're squished on the road).   Cattle and kangaroos are around too and can cause nasty vehicle accidents when they drift onto the roads in poor light.  There is fencing but much of it doesn't look like it'd hold any beast back.  

                             

Sand bubbler crabs feed by filtering sand through their mouthparts, leaving behind balls of sand that are broken up by the incoming tide. There are so many of these that there must be millions more sand bubbler crabs than you can shake a stick at AND they must constantly spit out sand balls. Apparently, the pretty patterns they create from sand ball-art are mere coincidence, though that’s hard to believe. Alas the photo isn't great at conveying the beauty of their intricate designs (yay - more photos needed!).   This Caper White butterfly was on the beach, one of many that we're starting to see this month.  Every butterfly is a happy reminder of Nick; we hope this is a correct identification of this particular species.  Also hoping this means that there may actually be native caper bushes around - they have the most amazing flowers.  So far, most of the butterflies we've seen have been mainly white, but it looks like there are several very colourful species in this part of the world.   

Next month will be a series of traveling mini adventures for us, and I'm excited about what's ahead.  First up will be glamping in Karijini over Easter, then a workshop in Perth followed by a stint upskilling in the Special Care Nursery in Bunbury.  Peter will be traveling down with me so will be able to explore Southwest WA while I work.  Then back to Hedland for a few days before hitting the North West Coastal Highway for about 800kms until we reach Exmouth.  This will be my first real holiday since arriving in Aus and I'm totally ready for it.  We'll split the travel over 2 days each way and have a few nights in our roof top tent in Exmouth.  The main event will be swimming with whale sharks, but we'll also explore the awesome Cape Range National Park.  We've booked another holiday in July/August to Broome, spending yet more of the kid's inheritance.  Friends Clare and Roy will be flying in from NZ to join us as part of their WA holiday, so likely some traditional beach camel-riding will be on the cards.  And gin.

                               


Saturday 24 February 2024

February 2024

Peter went back to Onamalutu a few days ago, so I'm getting on with Hedland life on my lonesome for the first time right now.  I was working in Karratha last week after dropping him off at the airport, and was on standby to go to Onslow for the weekend.  Cyclone Lincoln was threatening to make landfall just west of Karratha, but ended up tracking further south west around Carnarvon.  There are no midwives in the small health facility in Onslow, and there was concern that the changing air pressures could pop some waters and push a few pregnant women into labour.  I'm a bit disappointed that I wasn't needed after all, but at least I get to spend a quiet weekend at home in Port Hedland. 
February has been hot and humid, sometimes extremely hot and humid.  After 4+ months here we've finally received our first power bill and it turns out we're not using much at all.  Probably we could indulge in a little more aircon than our current minimal use.  Peter still spends a proportion of his life in a cool-ish bath and there is always a fan going day and night.  Ironically at work it sometimes even gets a bit chilly in the hospital aircon.  Our early evening walks are always immediately followed by a watery cool down and a bowl of ice cream.  It doesn't get below around 28 degrees at night, so no reprieve then either.   
     
If  you're early enough, the morning sea can be quite refreshing, although you still couldn't call it 'cool'.  We constructed a small floating table out of swimming noodles, a piece of board and some duct tape and it works well for breakfast in the sea at Pretty Pool.  There are heaps of fish and usually other people there (always reassuring that the crocodiles may favour a succulent child rather than a wrinkled oldie!), and usually a few dogs too.  We could be forgiven for wondering if we've missed the memo for 'Bring a Black Dog to the Beach Day’. Once a horse float trailer pulled up and a gorgeous foal (black, obviously) was led out into the tidal creek.  It obviously loved getting out in the sea; a precious moment when I had to pinch myself that this is my life.  We've ordered a full face snorkel for Peter, who struggles to breathe with a standard snorkel.  When that comes we'll be able to do some snorkelling together.  Hope we won't be too shocked by what’s actually in there to venture out again.

There have been some very high tides here this month and also some days when the tides don't seem to change much.  One very high tide even extended down Crocodile Alley. So finally we've learned a bit about what neap and spring tides mean and how they're connected to the moon.  For Peter, tide watching is all about the fishing of course.  He's had some successes, including this sharp-toothed Long Tom fish that was edible, but a lot of work to fillet and not the best tasting. 
 
  I'm continuing with online piano lessons and daily practice.  Most days also involve swimming or home yoga, though it's almost too hot for these.  The swimming pool temperature hovers around 30 degrees at 6:30am, and it's warmer at the weekend when it opens later.  The town pool in South Hedland doesn't get the sea breeze and is warmer still.  Sometimes it's the only option because there aren't enough staff for the Port Hedland pool to open every day.  We're on the look out for indoor activities to keep us out of trouble.  The tie-dye kit was for ages 6 and over, and that's a fair representation of our standard.  Probably we don't have a future in tie-dying T-shirts, but it was fun and worth a try.  I have my eye on a portable loom as weaving is something I've always fancied.  I'm too left-handed to be a knitter and too devoid of perfectionism to sew, but maybe weaving will suit me.  
 We have been a little bit social this month too.  We went to see Kim Churchill who performed in the Provedore Cafe in the next apartment block.  There were 2 support bands, one dodgy and the other excellent.  All up, a very enjoyable evening.  And we went to see comedian Amy Hetherington in the Esplanade Hotel.  She was hilarious, and I still giggle when I think of the joke she cracked about seeing a bloke in the sea at the Pretty Pool Clothing Optional Beach - having his very own Sausage Sizzle.  Guess you can relate Peter??
The Gold Midwifery Conference has been and gone and thankfully my presentation 'Sort Your Meconium Out' went well.  The technology was potentially problematic because the WA Country Health Service firewall was impenetrable for the software that the conference organisers used.  In the end I just hot-spotted my work computer from my phone and it was fine.  It's a good feeling to have that behind me, and really great to be paid for it.  

So, another month ticks by, and we're no closer to making a decision about how long we'll be here.  Luckily no hurry, and how good to be in the luxury position of having happy choices.  If Billy wants to head to pastures new next year, then either Peter or both of us needs to be in NZ.  Otherwise we can just go with wherever the grass is greenest in the moment.  Um, maybe not the most appropriate analogy - there isn't any grass here at all!  Working life is getting busier and though I'm working harder than I'd hoped, it's more satisfying to feel like I'm achieving something.  Like many other health authorities, WACHS is in severe debt, and what that'll mean for my position has yet to be apparent.    
So life rolls on gently and though I still miss home and my ‘tribe’, I'm counting my blessings and smelling those metaphorical roses.  








 

Sunday 28 January 2024

January 2024


We welcomed 2024 in style from party central (i.e. in bed asleep).  It was hot hot hot and we didn’t want to risk driving anywhere that would be too awful if we broke down - that’s nearly everywhere unfortunately.  There is so little shade anywhere, especially out on the open road.   Humidity has also picked up, and that adds another level of unpleasantness.  Luckily we have Pretty Pool beach on our doorstep and other beaches in Port Hedland, so staying at home is really not too shabby.  We're still taking our daily evening walk and there’s always lots to see.  There aren’t usually many people around, though that may change with the seasons.  Occasionally a family turns up to the beach on a quad bike, with assorted kids and dogs clinging on.  That's a cool way to get the kids out and exercise the dogs at the same time.



I finally ticked turtle hatchlings off my bucket list.  After several early morning beach visits, we were rewarded with the joyous sight of a baby turtle clambering out of its nest and across the sand on Cemetery Beach in Port Hedland.  A truly jaw-droppingly gorgeous sight.   The rule is absolutely no touching, and that was really really hard.  The only thing you're allowed to do is to keep the seabirds from picking off the hatchlings as they make their way to the sea.  Only 50% of all baby turtles actually reach the sea - the rest either don’t hatch or are scoffed by seabirds, lizards or any number of other creatures with an eye for a snack.  I’m still hoping for more hatchling sightings.  The season goes through until March but sighting them has been way trickier than I’d imagined.  Flat backed turtles hatch singly or in small numbers at a time from nests, often at night and over a period of months.  Fingers crossed I’ll be lucky again.
                                                           

Our Pretty Pool walks usually start or end along a track we call ‘Crocodile Alley’.  It’s a sandy track, heading to the ocean and we look down on it from our balcony.  It begins along a track that's fringed by mangrove swamps - perfect crocodile territory - and passes a sign that warns of saltwater crocs.  I'm still vigilant but more confident and relaxed nowadays.  And I’m mostly fine when we take other routes to the ocean through the grassy sand dunes.  “This is not crocodile territory…” I say to myself reassuringly, trying not to add “…no, it’s snake territory!!”.  Peter would love love love to see a land snake, ideally a really venomous one, but it's fair to say I don’t share his vision.   I’m trying to harden up my soft, namby-pamby pommy feet on our walks, and that’s going well on the sandy beach surfaces, but is work in progress when we hit gravelly sections, like along Crocodile Alley.   I can’t help but imagine us in a movie, being eyed up by a hungry croc.  The croc sees us but doesn’t fancy its chances of out-running us.  Not until we get to the gravelly track, and I start limping and falling behind, ooching and ouching my way along.  The camera pans back to the crocodile, now with a twinkle in its eye…

Abundant bird life contains to amaze us.  The first pelican we saw was all on its own.  Then we saw a pair (aaaw).  Then 3, 4, and 6.  So majestic and cartoon-like at the same time.  We see heaps of egrets (all 3 kinds), eagles, and waders like Ibis.  New on the list are Frigate birds, Caspian terns, cockatiels, Masked Lapwings, and a stone curlew.  And lots of Oyster Catchers, which are oddly named when you think about it.  It's not like you have to catch speedy oysters, eh?


Octopus Soccer is still keeping us entertained.  Sometimes it’s high-scoring (up to 11 octopi once, though we had called Golden Octopus time after 3-all).  It’s anyone’s game, which is quite a pleasant surprise as Peter’s usually the observant one.  We haven’t managed to accidentally stand on one yet - thankfully they see us coming and squirt a warning.  There are sea snakes, dead and alive, and jellyfish, and once we saw small sting rays darting around in shallow water when we were paddling on a Port Hedland beach.  We often see a range of different sized bowl-shaped hollows in the sand that are created by stingrays to rest in.   None of the above endear me to sea swimming, even if I could ever feel brave enough to risk sharks and crocs. 



We spent a day on a small island called Finucane, just off the coast and much closer to Pretty Pool as the crow flies than it was to drive over.  Arriving on the island via the raised road is horrifying - industrial mining megaliths coated in a thick layer of red dust as far as you can see; huge 3km long trains and road trains right in your face.  But as you head towards the boat ramp, the infrastructure becomes more distant until it’s no longer visible and the beauty of the island is eventually revealed.  Big mangrove forests, cerulean sea, long white sandy beaches and rocky reefs, presumably as it all used to be before mining began.  

Mangroves are ever-present along much of the coastline, and amazingly fascinating they are too.  My new favourite plant.  They are true eco-warriors, sequestering and storing big volumes of carbon dioxide and resiliently surviving in water that's 100x saltier than other trees can handle.  They have gorgeously elaborate root systems which secure them in the soft mud and protrude vertically like straws from the muddy sand and enable gaseous exchange.  They provide a huge range of habitats for all kinds of organisms, so a real magnet to head for when snorkelling.  It's wonderful to see them poking out from the sea at higher tides.

 

           


This month’s blog would have come to you from the stunning 80 Mile Beach, but we’re staying in a cabin on the campsite and there’s only Wi-Fi at reception.  It’s a holiday weekend (Invasion and Survival Day, aka Australia Day) and still too hot at night to consider camping, and happily there were very few people.  Plenty of resident monitor lizards and kangaroos filling the space where humans will eventually occupy.  It’s such a privilege to be in this totally awesome place and not have to share with the hordes of holidaymakers who pack out the place at other times of the year.  We’ve seen pictures of the beach being covered top to tail with campers, so it’s definitely worth braving the heat and coming out of season.   The beach extends further than the eye can see both ways (140 miles / 220kms all up), and the sea floor gently descends down from the shoreline.  At low tide you can walk a long way out, and as high tide approaches, the sea comes in quickly with a roar of waves that are endlessly watchable.  There are long gullies that run parallel to the sea.  When the bigger waves breach the rise before a gulley, the sea water creeps over, gradually filling the trenches until the whole beach is consumed by the incoming tide.  The colours and wave shapes are simple and gorgeous, the sound of crashing waves is soothing, and the smell of the sea hits your nostalgia button right on the nose.  We bought a cheap shade tent, so I have somewhere to sit, read and drink beer while Peter fishes.  Bliss!


En route we stopped off at Cape Keraudren, another unspoilt and isolated stretch of coastline.  Peter fished in the Cootenbrand Creek while I had a walk along the creek to the ocean, soaking up the stunning pastel colours of the view.  Here for the first time, I finally saw a kangaroo in the wild.  It wasn’t bothered by us, rather possibly curious, and bounded off and disappeared a few moments later.  It was a lovely moment, only surpassed when we arrived at the 80 Mile Beach campsite to find kangaroos well-outnumbering the humans, enjoying the shade and leaping around everywhere.

                            

On our way home we pulled into the De Grey River Rest Area, about 80kms out of Hedland.  Two days before on our way to 80 Mile Beach, we noticed that the De Grey River was not a dry riverbed like all the others - it actually had some pools of water in it.  But now it was majestically overflowing with pink-reflecting water despite no rainfall!  We checked the map and noticed that its water sources were well inland, where there had been torrential rain and flooding.  What a moment it must have been when that river water finally arrived in the dry bed at the Rest Area.  Birdlife was abundant and plant life verdant.   It's day-tripable from Hedland so we'll definitely be back to do some more exploring. 

Back at the ranch, Billy was delighted to return from work one day and find a tiny black calf on the property.  And better still, this calf’s mum is his heifer Nike - so it’s his calf.  Closer inspection revealed it’s a girl, and Billy has named her Aura.  She must be the offspring of Apollo or Attis and is getting on with the task of being a cute and lively calf with style.  Sadly, there have been livestock losses too.  Shaggy, one of our original ewes, died one hot NZ day.  She must have been 12 years old, so hopefully it was just old age for her.  One of our black ewes was also found dead a couple of days later, and that’s more of a mystery and a tragedy.  Billy and Josh hand-sheared woolliest of the remaining flock, so fingers crossed they’ll all be ok.    
Peter heads back to NZ next month for 10 days.  He has to return every 6 months to remain eligible for his pension, and we figured it’s a good idea anyway.  Billy has that week off work, and Sam and Lucas are both hoping to travel up to see him too.  It’ll be a working holiday for him - chopping firewood, thistle bashing and generally sorting out the land.  And there’ll also be my list obviously!  Karyn has been doing an amazing job keeping the gardens, paths and hedges tidy, and she may have some ideas for how he can make best use of his time while he’s there.  Get that list sorted Karyn - you know you want to!  Probably it’s good that I’m not going with him.  I reckon it would be hard to leave again and unsettling when I’m back.  Despite the magic and wildlife that surrounds us here, I am missing home more than I’d imagined.  It feels like life's on hold.  We still don’t have any firm plans for when we return finally, and that also depends on what Billy wants to do and where he wants to be.  Nor do I know what I’ll do for work in NZ.  I'm hanging onto the belief that the universe will line something up to keep me gainfully occupied, and in the meantime, focusing on finding my joy here.  We've booked a holiday for April, a proper holiday to Exmouth on the Coral Coast that will include swimming with whale sharks in the Ningaloo Marine Park (another bucket-list item) and exploring the outstanding Cape Range National Park.  
One more month of extreme weather, then we should start to cool off and live more of an outdoor life.  Roll on Autumn and Winter!