While Not Working

One important thing to be aware of when camping near a wild koala colony is the need to manage the risk of exposure to a drop bear. It's very hard to differentiate between a koala and a drop bear, and the clues are mostly behavioural and often related to the gullibility of the victim. A wild koala is asleep, ignores you, or tries to leave: a drop bear will subtly manoeuvre until they are on a tree branch overhead and then when you're least expecting it bam! A lap full of drop bear and those claws are savagely used for more than climbing trees. Thanks to good public education, lack of interaction between wild populations and people, and the nature of drop bear attacks (waiting until someone is underneath them rather than actively hunting) there hasn't been a drop bear fatality in Australia for at least 100 years. It can be easy to get complacent. Cue Roger sitting in his comfortable camping chair under a she-oak, getting out of the midday sun and enjoying a cup of tea. The w...

I'm told that Manna gums are to koalas what Lindt Chocolate is to humans.  A large stand of Manna gums grows on Mikkira Station, which is 25 km outside Port Lincoln.  Mikkira's Manna gums are inhabited by a growing colony of wild koalas; something of a rarity (both trees and animals) on the Eyre Peninsula.   Mikkira Station also has the ruins of the original hut built by Adam Borthwick who took up the lease a bare three years after Port Lincoln was settled. The hut is open for stickybeaks to wander through, and the remnants of drystone walls meander about the property.     From the inside out. The hut is not in original condition.  It has been re-roofed and re-floored. Mikkira was originally a sheep station: the chimney is from the shepherd's quarters, the dry stone walls enclosed a water point before the installation of such modern fandangles as windmills and solar pumps.  I haven't been able to clarify if the koalas have always been on Mikkira o...

  Good morning from Coffin Bay. I can't read the weather in South Australia, with the result that rain showers catch me out with both their arrival speed and the direction from which they come.  I went for a short walk this morning and had to scuttle home quickly to get out of the rain. This was obviously a sign that I should go back to bed, so I did. By lunchtime I had gotten out of bed and we had done all our necessary phone calls and chores and were suffering cabin fever, so we packed our rain jackets and went out to play Russian Roulette with the rain. Back in January 2020 a bushfire ran through Coffin Park NP, and the effects are still clear to see in parts of the park. Eventually the road led us straight to the sea. Coffin Bay National Park covers all of the peninsula  and large parts of it are only accessible by 4wd and foot, so we were limited in where we could go, but what we saw was a great combination of stunning beaches, huge sand blows, and sheltered, shallow...

Rain fell on and off all night and continued today, so we stayed in the cabin and did indoor stuff and bike maintenance. View from our front door. I think we'll stay inside today. I'm sure my bike was made on a Friday when everyone just wanted to go home: there is always something not working on my bike. For a long time it was the brakes and most recently it's been the front derailleur which impolitely declines to reliably change gears. Oh, and the seat gradually jiggles itself into an increasingly nose-up position whilst cycling, which is both uncomfortable for some important anatomy and disconcerting in general. Armed with a set of Allen keys and a YouTube video, I set out to fix my front derailleur. I did a fantastic job. In fact, I 'fixed' my front derailleur so well that I rang Circuit Cycles in Port Lincoln and booked the bike in on Monday so that they can unfix my 'fixing' and do a proper job. And while they're at it they will replace the seat pos...

Roger continues to place great faith in the weather forecast. "We're lucky to be in a cabin", he said.  "It's going to rain all day today: miserable weather!"  He packed himself up to walk to IGA as I knuckled down to work.  "At least we've got a separate bedroom," he said.  "I can hole up in there while it's raining and you work." The poor man had a hard time of it out in the terrible weather, sending me pictures of what he had to put up with: Terrible weather as forecast by the BoM. By the time I finished work every single cloud had gone from the sky, so we went out walking on the bits of the Oyster Trail that we hadn't walked on yesterday. Maybe there was something in the BoM forecast after all.  The wind changed and clouds streamed into the sky.  "See?" he cried.  "Terrible weather is coming!" The local goannas had not read the weather forecast and were content to spend their time sitting in the sun whe...

Dear me, we're becoming soft. We're back in a cabin tonight, having moved all of 45km to Coffin Bay primarily because we couldn't find a cabin anywhere else and Tuesday was rapidly approaching. Several random fellow tourists told us that Coffin Bay is the 'jewel of the Eyre Peninsula' so we shall see about that. Myself, I'm just planning on seeing the seal. On our last day in Port Lincoln we hiked in the Lincoln National Park and were stopped by a ranger for a random permit check, which was quite exciting. I'd hate to have gone to all the trouble of getting a Parks SA permit and then never been checked. Lincoln NP is at the bottom of Boston Bay, in which Port Lincoln sits. Google assured me that Boston Bay is at least three times the size of Sydney Harbour, and is therefore one of the biggest natural harbours in the world. We hiked a little bit along one edge of it and were rewarded with dolphin sightings. They were swimming in circles beating the water with...

Sunrise from our camp at Port Lincoln Caravan Park.  Rain was forecast: once again the weather did not comply with the BoM script.  Showers came and went but barely interfered with our day. Tourer Tim came past as we sat in the camp kitchen, boiling the kettle for our post-cereal and pre-toast cup of tea.  His departure was delayed by a flat tyre. "Join us!" We said. "Have a cup of coffee and a crumpet with golden syrup." It was about time we had a chance to pay forward all those kettles other people had boiled for us." Don't mind if I do", said Tim, and we spent a very pleasant hour or so drinking tea and coffee and swapping cycle touring stories and tips.  Eventually Tim had to fix his tyre and we had to go do tourist stuff, so we all said farewell and went on our separate ways.  After checking out downtown we finished off a bit more of the Parnkalla Trail, this time on foot. Views from the foreshore: wheat loading facility and recreational boats. Fo...