Beach Camping

15th April : I'm falling asleep by a low burning fire to ward off dingoes. After a 20km beach walk today I am camping under the dazzling milky way. More walking planned for tomorrow.

Letter : Twenty kilometres of beach walk had me passing fishermen with the impression that school holidays had frightened off their fish. One old man advised that I camped beside a fire to scare off the dingoes. Who knows if it scared anything but it did manage to impress myself by burning scavenged timber, much of it green, into the night.

16th April: Another full day of beach walking, just me, the waves and the occasional dolphin and dingoes. I'm glad to be wandering the Great Lakes by firmer ground. I'm camped on the water's edge

Letter : The Big Gipper is a headland without another path but along the wave shaken cliffs. Sometimes I'd take my swag and tuckerbag in separate steps, sometimes I'd have to wait for the wave to run out before making a run for it then making a quick climb before the next smashing wave. With the constant roar of ocean it was strange to hear another roar. Two hornet jet fighters roared, about spitting distance from the cliffs, near scaring the tattered pants off this rock clinging swaggie.

The next beach was more calmly waiting for me to walk its firmer dingo print sand. Dolphins spalashed about and caught waves as if on thier seaside outing.

In Seal Rocks I near inhaled a loaf of bread as the local knowledge deterred me from taking a bush-bashing shortcut. Along the road a bit I camped at Nerain Campgrounds where my peaceful swag attracted campground security. I moved because they asked politely but I didn't think much of their reasoning. Sucking in my pride I chose another spot in the dark, vowing that in the morning I'd go and check the supposed 'no camping' signage. As I suspected, there was not indication that I shouldn't have been free to camp where I was. I can still taste the bitterness, as you can probably tell by the grit on this page.