Our North-West Adventure 2011, Part 2: What to do, in Gnaraloo?
The next stage of our adventure brought us to Monkey Mia, where we met some friendly mammals with a taste for seafood and thousands of crustacean squatters before dragged through the ocean from a high speed catamaran. After a hair-raising drive through an extended muddy bog, we made it to Gnaraloo Station, a delightful paradise marred only slightly by a small infestation of surfers and a veritable plague of ecstatic, frisky whales.

After spending the night in Denham, we got up early the next morning and drove to Monkey Mia. Every day, a crowd gathers on the shore to wait for a pod of dolphins who have been fed there, every day, for years.

The water was incredibly still and calm... Dad had the rare chance to get some early morning photography done while waiting.

Mom booked us onto a boat cruise. It was a great way to get out into the bay and see some sharks, turtles, dolphins and perhaps even a dugong.

The boat stopped by a pearl oyster farm where we learned the ins and outs of farming pearls. As we watched the presentation, RJ suddenly darted forward between the speaker's legs to save this tiny crab from being stepped on.

Once we left the reef area and returned to deeper water, the captain loaded the net behind the boat with passengers and took off -- the ultimate ocean cold-tub.

The next morning, we were off again, heading north past Carnarvon and on to Gnaraloo Station. We stopped along the way to watch the blowholes, as whales happily flopped about just off the coast. Despite the best efforts from the blowholes, with deafening roars and tremendous columns of water blasting from the rock, the kids were still way more interested in the tidal pools.

LR did her very best to break her ankle by leaping maniacally from rock to rock across the puddles, but failed miserably.
Gnaraloo Station lies at the end of a dirt track that runs north of Carnarvon. During the Summer, there is so little rain that the track is packed hard and just about any vehicle can make it through. It turns out that during Winter, it’s a bit of a different story.
In our case, torrential rains had come through about three days prior, and the track had been completely flooded. What was left for us was a series of opaque muddy lakes and bogs of thick, sticky, orange mud connected by small sections of track. The owners of the station had put out the official word to the community that only real four-wheel drives should attempt the track, and even then to stick to the ‘chicken-tracks’. Chicken tracks are side tracks, usually weaving deleriously through the bushland for a few hundred metres, that avoid the worst of the bogs and deepest pools. They’ve been amusingly named by the four-wheel drive enthusiasts for those people who chicken out when driving the main track.
When we called the station and informed them about our rear-wheel drive, towing a heavy trailer, they said, “Sure, come on up. You’ll be fine.” We didn’t discover their ‘official’ recommendation until after we got there.

At this point, we had 80 km (50 miles) of this kind of track ahead of us. Every few hundred metres, we would encounter another massive bog which would require getting out and inspecting. We very seriously considered turning around and not continuing on.

We arrived, triumphant, but utterly nervewracked and exhausted. We took our place amongst the four wheel drives and tried to pretend it had been great fun.

At the base of the cliff in front of camp, there's a famous surfing spot. It was pretty spectactular, with great waves rolling in continuously, all day long.

RJ really enjoyed snorkelling too. He spotted all kinds of fish, and thought he had made friends with two, but discovered they were just damselfish trying to scare him away from their algae farm!

At low tide, we could explore the safer sections of the cliff face. There were lots of little caves and rock pools along the way.

We hiked lots of trails around Gnaraloo, climbing cliffs and exploring. It was a terrific place to watch whales happily flop and splash about, with a few showing up every ten minutes or so.

Some awful, terrible, bad parents set an awful, terrible, unsafe example for their children by jumping down into this sea cave to pick up some pretty rocks, and then frantically scrambling out before the waves came crashing into it.

These super cute bearded dragons were everywhere. They were incredibly curious and had absolutely no fear of people, but at the speeds they dart around, they have no reason to be.

Gnaraloo Bay is absolutely stunning -- some of the most spectacular coral and aquatic wildlife in the world, just a metre below the surface of a huge expanse of crystal blue water gently lapping against perfect, white, fine-grained sand, and aside from this amazingly great family that showed up, almost completely deserted.

It took a while to climb to the top; they were bigger than they looked and we were weighed down by an impressive number of dead crabs.

LR and Dad wandered off with their cameras to get some pictures of the surfers. They had to be pretty brave to attempt the entry from the reef into the crashing waves.

The kids made friends with the boys at the neighbouring camp. Ledgy, their dad, even set up a totem tennis set for them, which our kids promptly dominated.

Being wintertime, we were allowed to have a campfire. RJ worked on his marshmallow chargrilling technique.

LR, to Mom's delight, worked on a careful, slow-roasting technique, producing a series of perfectly toasted marshmallows.
Click and explore this map to see where we actually went!
View NorthWest Australia 2011 in a larger map




























![<a href="http://tobob.com/201108/my-preciousssssss/">My preciousssssss….</a> - What does RJ have in his right hand?
Here's a clue...
It's small.
It's white... and ...
It bites!
It's RJ's first tooth!
[/caption]
After a week of careful wiggling, and only a tiny amount of blood, RJ has managed to extract his first to... My preciousssssss….](http://tobob.com/wp-content/uploads/2011/08/wpid4981-MG_4867-450x300.jpg)
