Kangaroo Island, November 10-13, 2008
You can tell that Kangaroo Island is a relatively small place when the guy working at the rental car counter (Mark) welcomes you by name, already knows where you are staying, has already spoken with our innkeeper to confirm that we were too late for dinner (and that we should eat in town before heading out to the bush), etc. Kangaroo Island is actually pretty large (the third largest in the country), but everyone knows everybody else. Following the instructions, we headed into Kingscote for dinner, and then 30 minutes out into the bush to the Stranraer Homestead, where Lyn and Graham Wheaton welcomed us into their small but wonderfully quaint B&B. Along the way, we saw our first kangaroo in the wild, but this one unfortunately was on the side of the road, with rigor mortis in full effect (and for our stay on the island, we saw more dead animals roadside than live ones).
In our travels last year, we extensively used local guides and drivers, primarily because the countries were so different from the U.S. Australia is probably as close to the U.S. as possible, so on this trip we are self-driving and making our plans as we go. This approach worked wonderfully at Kangaroo Island, for the next morning, Lyn laid out a map and told us precisely what to do for the day (and for the next one as well).
Bouncing along on “un-sealed” roads most of the time, we ventured first to a eucalyptus distillery (primarily to pet an orphaned “joey”), and then south to Seal Bay. There, in addition to walking on the beach with lazing sea lions, we learned the
importance of the “Aussie wave”, to battle some quite impressive flies. Scott writes that “the flies are what were annoying us the whole time. I once had five flies on my face at the same time. They were disgusting, flying in my mouth, nose, etc. I even had one land on my eyelash. My day would have been perfect if the flies were not there”. We learned that just two weeks prior, these sea lions had been classified as endangered, and we wished it were so for the flies.
We happened to be on the beach at the 11th hour of the 11th day of the 11th month of the year, which is Remembrance Day for the end of WWI. In keeping with Australian custom, we enjoyed a moment of silence, a group of 20 strangers reflecting on that event 90 years ago, gazing out at the sea lions and the Tasman Sea.
Back in the car, we drove an hour to the southwest corner of the island, and the Flinders Chase National Park. There we visited the Remarkable Rocks (Claire’s favorite) and the Admiral’s Arch (my favorite by far). Seeing the power of the ocean swells crashing into this headland of rocks, mist spraying, prisms of light and water, with the seals and sea lions playing in the surf, was captivatingly magical.
Pulling ourselves away, we headed back east to a spot of eucalyptus trees alongside the road, where koala are more or less guaranteed to be. We were not disappointed, and enjoyed a few moving from tree to tree, even during the part of the day when they usually sleep (check out the video at the end).
.
Further along on our drive, we stopped in to Vivonne Bay to rent sand surfing boards for the Little Sahara. Carson’s description of our experience is succinct: “horrible”. We couldn’t make it work, and although the accompanying photo looks exciting, it is very much staged.
Graham Wheaton is a third generation sheep farmer, and Lyn a former high school teacher. We happily realized during our stay that their Stranraer Homestead is listed in “1000 Places …”, and we think it must be so due to Lyn’s cooking. The next morning, after a sumptuous dinner and immense breakfast, we rolled out to the car for our second day of island exploring. Our first stop was Scott’s favorite – Stoke’s Bay. “We went to a beautiful beach, but to get there, you had to walk through a mass of rocks. We were walking under them, over them, everywhere were rocks. After five minutes of walking, we got to the beach. The beach was kind of inside a cove where the only
way to get there was through the rocks. Next we went on a walk up and down the beach. It was a nice quiet walk. The last thing we did was go for a swim in the 70 degree water. My legs did fine against the cold; when the water got a little higher, my thighs felt like they had frostbite. When my stomach got wet, that was the worst part (actually, the part between my thighs and stomach was the worst part but I will not say because, well, you know). First my dad went under. Next I went under. The cold surrounded me for a moment, shooting through my body. Then I burst out of the water panting and gasping for air. When you come out of the water it feels really really good because of the dry air -- -whoo, that was refreshing. OF COURSE, the girls didn’t get in (whimps)”.
Fully refreshed, we continued exploring coves and drives until reaching Kingscote again, for a nice outdoor lunch and some time in the local library doing homework. We were heading today to the far eastern end of the island, just across from the mainland. We stopped and climbed Prospect Hill, named by Samuel Flinders upon his discovery of the island, Pennington’s Bay, Cape Willoughby Light House, Antechamber Bay, and finally, the town of Penneshaw. There, after dinner, we joined an after dark penguin walk, watching large numbers of Little Penguins returning to land after a day of fishing, bringing food back to their babies waiting outside of their nests.
On the hour drive back to the inn, two things happened. First, we saw more kangaroos and wallabies in 30 minutes than in all our daylight driving so far (and all of them were standing in the road). Second, catastrophe struck as Scott realized he had left his favorite hat at dinner (so much for good manners in removing your hat). His friends will all know his black Nike hat, and we hope that the nice lady at the pub (that we called late that night) has indeed “posted” it back to Winston Salem.
The next morning we were up early for our journey northward to the Outback. We flew back to Adelaide and then on to the Northern Territory, and the town of Alice Springs. Australia has been very simply described as coast, then bush, then outback, then bush, then coast. However, most of it is outback, and we were heading to the very center (and the place, one brochure said, that is the closest to every beach in Australia, an interesting description for a town in the desert).
