Yes, that is my current predicament.
Stuck in Perth for a few days awaiting the beginning of the next leg of the trip – a drive from Perth to Sydney courtesy of Traveler’s Auto Barn, World Nomads and Lonely Planet.
What to do? Rottnest Island sounds intriguing. I will visit. My Perth host’s dropped me off in Fremantle. I made my way to Shed “C” to book my transport and lodging. A few minutes later I was seated aboard the Fremantle Express watching the other passengers’ board. In walked Anne and Pat.
The weather was gorgeous as we arrived. The crossing was smooth and quick. Dolphins played off the bow as we left port in Fremantle.
My bicycle was waiting my arrival – tagged and standing on the wharf. After riding just a short distance I discovered the back wheel was loose – really loose. Coasting and limping back to the pier I traded it in for a new model – a small women’s bicycle – but it felt like a sports car after my previous model.
Next stop, check-in at Kingstown Barracks where I was given bed 168 in the Sergeant Major’s Quarters with a view out over the parade grounds. My oversized pack – already delivered - was sitting outside the door. There were only five of us here last night. A benefit of low season.
Must make the best use of my bicycle. I rode back to the main settlement – my nose leading the way. The aromas of fresh bread, pastries and pizza guiding the way. Unfortunately I had just finished lunch. I planned tea right then – return to the bakery.
Setting off I promptly got lost – the plan was to visit Oliver Hill but the road to Bathurst Lighthouse looked more inviting –hopefully that means I was only distracted, not lost. I didn’t make it there either. Instead, road through Geordie Bay and soon found myself at Parakeet Bay. The Little Armstrong Bay and Catherine Bay. It was beautiful. White, sandy beaches, turquoise water, small reefs with fish swimming. Usually I would have stopped to take photos – but not today. The kid in the candy store – I couldn’t stop. I had to see what was around the next bend, over the next hill, hiding in the next bay. Before long I was at Cape Vlamingh – the furthest west point on the island.
The coast line had slowly changed. I was now atop limestone cliffs looking down into beautiful pools. The cliff flattened out beneath me into a shallow ledge reading out into the pool, then dropped off again. Fish Hook Bay below – but no easy way to get there. It called out for snorkeling. A pod of dolphins swam by, a whale blew a little further offshore, and two surfers tested a wave just beyond the reef. On osprey rode the currents along the cliff. White-faced chats scolded from along the trail while king skinks watched my approach then quickly scampered for cover as my shadow blocked their evening sun.
A few minutes before sunset I arrived at Wadjemup Lighthouse – the beacon on the islands highest point. The lighthouse was commissioned in 1896. At its base the foundation of an earlier light – the first lighthouse on the West Australia coast. Around the lighthouse are the World War II signal houses. Rottnest was the guardian of Perth and the Fremantle Port during the war. After the Japanese had hit a few towns further north, Australia was worried that Perth would be the next target. Every approaching ship was required to identify itself by code-name to the women operating the signal station. If a ship failed to be recognized the forces in Perth and Fremantle were alerted.
Hunger was overcoming me – I’d been riding for over 4 hours. Time to return to the bakery. With the motivation of a pastry I peddled harder arriving in the settlement as the last sunbeams filtered in.
The bakery was closed.
I will be spending a few days on the island. There will be another day.
This morning I awoke to clear skies. I quickly headed to the shower before riding to Porpoise Bay to capture a sunrise image of the schooner moored there.
Once sufficiently scrubbed I shut the water off. What is that noise? Rain? Rain drops were pelting the tin roof and windows.
Here I sit, still killing time. Showers still falling, nearly lulled asleep.
Kingstown Barracks is a YHA hostel. A small pot-bellied stove sits against the wall. I’ve melted into one of the overstuffed chairs. The floors are polished hardwood. On the covered porch sit a few Quokkas peering in as if they too wish to be out of the rain and in the warmth. More realistically – they are dreaming of the scraps of food which may be dropped if somebody were to venture outside with a platter of food.
Rottnest – named by the early sailors who found their way on to the island. They found the island inhabited by small ratty looking animals hence – Rats Nest Island.
The showers finally eased away this afternoon. I loaded up the snorkel and mask, fins and wetsuit. If it rained I’d be wet anyway. My destination was Green Island. Actual destination Oliver Hill. Distracted a second day in a row.
My three speed bicycle seemed determined to drag me up the hill this afternoon. Atop Oliver Hill is a battery of 9.2 inch guns – each capable of lobbing a penetrating round weighing 175 kg up to 28.9 kilometres with an accuracy of about 3 metres. It took 5 men to fire the gun. They could fire it three times each minute. Over 100 men were required at the battery each shift. It is one of seven such batteries built around Australia – the only one not removed when decommissioned. Its remote location and difficult access probably saved it from a salvage sale. Today one gun has been restored. The engine room is also restored although the generators were removed – making their way to two outback communities to provide electrical power. Taking a tour, one can visit inside some of the rooms and tunnels. Nearby the second gun and plotting room await restoration. Rottnest at its largest housed about 2,500 military personnel. Only a few lived at Kingstown Barracks. The majority lived in a camp near the air field.
A WWII Japanese navy officer was visiting Australia for the first time. When he saw the guns he exclaimed, “I’m glad we didn’t try to enter this harbour.”
Without a doubt Rottnest will fill all my time to kill.
This afternoon after a day or snorkeling I noticed a peculiar object moving across the water’s surface – a huge pipe rocking to the wave’s cadence. A submarine was taking its place in the shipping lane. At first I thought it peculiar then remembered a day six years earlier. Australia is hosting APEC this week. Is there a security concern? A few minutes in time – September 11 – impacted more than the United States.
I finished my day my riding to Bathurst Lighthouse for sunset. Dolphins played in the shadows of Duck Rock. A whale blew – the mist settling in a lavender cloud. A silver-eyed gull landed on the railing with the setting sun just below its bill. This will be my last evening on the island. Tomorrow I must leave.
Tuesday – eight days since I arrived – dawned clear but a bank of clouds was on the western horizon. I rode out to Strickland Bay and watched the surfers for a while then made my way back towards the barracks stopping at Little Salmon Bay – the Marine Science class from Western Australia University was there doing a survey on several parts of the bay, then I stopped by Parker Point to enjoy the contrasts caused by the different light absorption of sea grass and sandy substrate in the shallow water. Slowly I made my way back to the jetty for my 2:30 departure. The ride back to Fremantle was uneventful – even smooth. As I walked from the dock to the train station it began to rain.
My days of extra time disappeared. It was a relaxing and enjoyable way to pass the time while waiting for the next leg of my journey to begin. Thursday morning I’ll pick up the mystery vehicle.
