Kalbarri Fishing and some other less important photos!

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Up and away past Dongara..

Lloyd Lyons, Fisherman extraordinaire with a decent Dhu fish taken on a soft plastic

Before reaching Kalbarri I stopped in Dongara for a few day where I hoped to go fishing with Lloyd, who is a bit of a local pro fisherman. Ben from Perth had put me in touch with Lloyd who seemed quite keen to meet up for a fish when I arrived in town. Seven days or so after leaving Perth and 500km or so with pretty sore legs I reached Dongara and arranged to meet up with Lloyd on Saturday afternoon for a fish. The evening before, I flicked lures from the breakwall and, although conditions looked good, nothing was kind enough to take the lures.

Elsie with the first Dhu of the session!

Saturday afternoon couldn't come quick enough! I met Lloyd outside Dongara backpackers and could immediately see that I was in the hands of a pro! Or should I say, two, as Elsie, Lloyd's girlfriend was joining us out on the water. Lloyd's boat is fully set up for some serious fishing, with all the bases covered. The fact that Lloyd is also a lure addict meant we were in for a good time. Like me, chucking soft plastics is Lloyd's passion and, with slightly different backgrounds, it seemed we could learn a lot from each other. Fishing soft plastics from the boat is relatively new to me so it was pretty interesting to be under the guidance of a master. Most of my experience has been land-based soft plastics, so it would be a fast learning curve.


The weather was looking pretty good for us as we left the boat ramp in Dongara and headed out to a few of Lloyd's prefered Dhu spots. Dhu fish were our main target with other possibles being Baldchin Groper, Sambos, Breaksea Cod, Pink Snapper and Skippy, amongst others. I was desperately hoping to latch into a good Dhu after hearing so much of this iconic West Australian species.


After 30 minutes or so of motoring we reached the first spot and were soon dropping soft plastics down to the reef below. Lloyd's selection of soft plastics was vast to say the least so the hardest bit was to select a likely looking customer to stick on the jig head! Play it safe and follow the advice of the skipper, I reckon! A small green and orange softy went on my hook and was hastily dropped overboard!

Elsie with the second Dhu of the trip. Two-nil to the girls!

In true tradition, the girl was into the first fish! Not even five minutes had passed when Elsie announced that a half decent fish had nailed her little rubber lure. Very soon I saw my first Dhu fish, and what a beauty it was. Not big by Dhuie standards, but very beautiful indeed. A quick mugshot and soon it was back in the water. Elsie was soon into the second fish of the trip - a slightly bigger Dhu! So it seemed that the boys were getting a good lesson in the art of angling! Lloyd was soon in on the action as he played the third Dhuie to the boat. Like the first two, it was quickly returned to its mates down below.

Lloyd had this good Skippy (Silver Trevally) nail his curly tail

Next, a fine looking Skippy fell to Lloyd's rod and quickly after that he hooked a good sized Breaksea Cod. Elsie was then into another Dhu fish slightly bigger than the previous ones - all in beautiful condition, shining bright in the afternoon sun. Unfortunately I wasn't off the mark yet. A missed couple of bites was all I had to go on plus a couple of deep teeth marks from my soft placcie. Apparently a Baldchin Groper would have been the culprit ...... often they bite, but it's a little hard to hook them up.

A Breaksea Cod that took a liking to Lloyd's soft plastic.

By the time it grew dark we had fished a few spots and must have seen at least 10 Dhu fish come to the boat. None of the monsters we had hoped for had taken the lure, but there was still a chance. Without a fish to my name I was getting desperate! Finally, my chance came after dark when I felt a tap on the rod tip followed by solid resistance! Eventually a fish - and a decent one. A couple of headshakes were followed by a short, powerful run as the fish realised it was best to make a break for it. Lloyd immediately announced that it was a big Dhu fish, surely above ten kilos. The pressure was on, but suddenly it was all over as my leader parted. So close yet so far. I couldn't believe it!! I was left a shaking wreck as I retied my leader and dropped another soft plastic. Of course, as it goes, that was the only chance of the day for me. Although I lost my first Dhuie it didn't matter as it was a great afternoon spent in excellent company. Thanks very much guys ..... hugely appreciated!

A second after I asked Lloyd whether Mulloway were a possibility and this little beauty nailed the lure. Not a monster, but perfectly formed and fun on the ultralight rod!

It seemed that if the weather was good next day we could hit the water again and I could try to get some revenge on the Dhu fish. Sunday looked OK, although the wind was up so it was touch and go whether we could get out deep. Today, it was just Lloyd and I on the boat and, as we left the harbour, we met his father coming back in. From the quick chat it seemed things weren't too good out at sea, which we confirmed after a quick run out. Instead of fishing the deep water we headed back to the harbour for some light tackle fun. And what fun it was.

One of a hundred, fine juvenile Mulloway that took the lures

Anchoring up in a proven spot, Lloyd began berlying the water with a special mix along with some chopped mulies and other goodies. The plan was to fish tiny soft plastics on light braid and light rods with target species being small Pink Snappers, Mulloway,Tailor, Skippy, Yellowtail and what ever else might come along.

Lloyd's little rod was the first to take on a good bend caused by a lively little Tailor trying it's best to get as far from the boat as possible. Next was a Yellowtail which, for its size, scrapped remarkably well. I asked Lloyd about the chance of a Mulloway and, as he finished telling me it was distinctly possible, my little lure got nailed by a pristine, baby Mulloway! The next few hours kept us extremely busy as small Pinkies, Tailor, Mulloway, Yellowtail, a small Cod, and a Gobblyguts all happily took the lures!

Ultralight rod in action...beautiful!

The Mulloway were the main suspects and by the end of the day we must have caught and released over 100 of them. As time progressed, the Mulloway came higher and higher in the water column until we could see the fish nailing the lures just below the surface. For a couple of hours the fish finder was completely blocked out by the huge shoal of fish under the boat. It was great fishing particularly with the rods balanced to the size of fish. Nothing big came along but it didn't matter as every fish gave a good account of itself. Towards the end of the session Lloyd even hooked a fish he hadn't seen before in the harbour -some sort of little mackerel sp. It was a some great fishing and, in the two sessions spend with Lloyd, I learnt a remarkable amount about Australian fishing and the use of soft plastics! A very versatile lure to say the least. Cheers Lloyd and Elsie for your hospitality! Hope I can guide you to an Indian Barra one day!!

Sunset fishing at Flat Rocks praying something big would eat the crab attached to my hook!

The ride from Dongara was a good one apart from the persisent headwind that slowed my progress. Back on the highway I had to be careful of the many road trains heading north towards the mining towns. Some abnormal loads stretched far off the edge of the trucks so it paid for me to get off the road and let them pass. Although, through communication on their CB radios, they know that I'm on the road, a mere cyclist is far too small a reason for such a big truck to slow down. Drivers are renowned for sticking to their guns and continuing at their cruising speeds unless a very pressing need to slow down presents itself.

Early evening view of Flat Rocks coastline...very fishy indeed!

After a few hours ride and 30km I planned to stop at Flat Rocks, which is a pretty popular fishing spot for a number of different species. Only a few km from the main road it was too good a spot to miss and an early stop would give me a chance to explore and fish before the sun set. The steepest hill of the trip, although short, led me up over the coastal sand dunes where, at the top, a lovely view of miles of empty coastline opened up. A good fast downhill took me down to the car park situated right on the beach. As with a lot of spots in Australia, there were dustbins and toilets and no other people. I was a little surprised to see a needle receptacle in the toilets so it seems even this pretty part of the world isn't without its problems.

A fellow touring cyclist just outside Dongara...sorry buddy can't remember your name!

Kyler ready to set out from Dongara on the yellow peril. Augusta to Darwin was the plan! All the best mate

Running north along the coast, a sandy track closely follows the rugged coastline. I followed this for half a kilometre until I came to a good looking fishing spot. I hoped I could throw lures, but with the state of the tide and the wind, it proved hard going as the wave cut platform was underwater meaning deeper water was quite a distance away. Without any bait the next best chance I had of landing a fish was by using some of the resident crabs on the hook. These I found a little way up the rocks where a load of seaweed had been pushed up onto the beach by the strong, breaking waves. Feisty to say the least, the crabs needed a good bit of pacifying before they were ready to go in the bait bucket. With dusk approaching and the big rod set up I tied a tasty looking crab to the hook and launched it towards the deeper water before setting in for a wait. I was confident in something taking the bait, but knowing from past experince that it takes a while to learn fishing spots, I knew luck would have to be on my side. Towards dusk my confidence started to wane even though it was the 'hot' time of day to be fishing. Nothing decided to bite, but the fiery sunset and camping with a view over the breaking waves made up for the lack of fish.

Sitting wondering how many fish I'm going to catch! Aahh, dreams are nice...

Luckily, travelling by bicycle, there's no need for old boy's service

Old church on the road to Geraldton

From Flat Rocks I followed the road north towards Geraldton, but it wasn't too long before I heard that heart dropping sound of air rushing from my rear tyre. A hundred metres ahead amongst trees full of screeching Corellas I saw a side road where I could stop to repair the puncture. Trying not to destroy the flat tyre, I slowly made progress up the side of the highway until I could stop next to a picturesque homestead, which upon closer inspection turned out to be the Greenough Pioneer museum. Five minutes into my fix it activities, Peter from the museum came to see if everything was OK and kindly invited me in for a cup of tea and a bite to eat, which was very much appreciated at the time.

Peter and his dogs at the Greenough Pioneer Museum

Peter and his partner Gary have been been at the museum for the last few years and, between them, with their diverse backgrounds, have really improved the place to its former glory. After tea and a interesting chat, Peter kindly showed me around the property which proved to be a fascinating experience. The cottage oozes history thanks to most of the exhibits being entirely original. The beautiful organic garden was also great to see, complete with what are thought to be the oldest Japanese Pepper Trees in Australia. In front of the property a very old eucalyptus tree still stands, or at least lies on its side, and was apparently a meeting place for generations of Aboriginals that inhabited the area.

The road from Northhampton to Kalbarri and the clouds that would soon catch up with me!


So my initial dismay at having a flat tyre led to having a great insight into Australian history as well as meeting some delightful locals whom I would have undoubtedly cycled past! With the tyre all fixed I pushed on to Geraldton where I took care of a few jobs. I happily bought the last Schwalbe Marathon Plus tyre in the bike shop, although it was hugely expensive compared to European prices. A modem was also purchased to ease getting access to the internet and a stack of food was also loaded on board for the next few days. Lastly, I headed to Tackle World to visit Lloyd and browse the fishing equipment before hitting the road again in the direction of Northhampton and Kalbarri. For the next couple of days I cycled past bush, farms and many, squawking Galahs.

Arable farms on the way to Kalbarri

On the road to Northhampton, to avoid a rainstorm, I took some shelter town under the town information sign. A kind couple passing with a caravan offered me a cup of coffee, and just before I pushed on an overheating car full of backpackers turned up to cool down. Just five minutes was needed to tour the slighty shabby but interesting town of Northhampton. After a refill of water at the local pub I was on my way again on the quieter side road towards Kalbarri. I was soon cycling through a rolling green landscape of wheat fields, some populated by Merino sheep, others just with newly sprouting wheat. All day I wondered when the black clouds that framed every big view would release their water to the earth below. I escaped for a while, until much later in the day.

Merino sheep

When the rain gods caught up with me they made sure I got a very good soaking! It wasn't such an issue early in the day while I cycled past the pink lake of Port Gregory, as there was still time to dry whilst clocking up some more kilometres. It was later in the day when nearing the 100km mark that a prayer was said in hope that the heavens wouldn't open again. Unfortunately for me there were apparently other plans and, as the day began to draw to a close, a black cloud closely followed my path. My initial thought was to push on in the vain hope that the heavy rain would slow and stop, giving me a chance at least to get a little dry before looking for a suitable spot to camp.

The Pink(ish) lake of Port Gregory

The cold rain drops continued to lash into my face well past five o'clock, when I would usually start to look for a camping spot. It was a shame that the rain fell as the landscape that passed by looked perfect for camping; open bushland with short green grass. Fences either side of the road made entering the bush a little tricky without being seen by the occasionally passing car. It meant all the luggage would have to be removed and then replaced after being lifted over the fence, which I didn't fancy doing in the adverse weather conditions. So I carried on until a side road revealed a wire gate that I could use to get off the road. Of course, the lovely camping lawns I had seen earlier had been replaced by sand and the odd sprout of grass. And the rain still fell! Looking at the clouds I felt distinctly short-changed, as everywhere I looked was blue sky, apart from the span of black cloud directly above my chosen sleeping spot. From what I could figure, the rain would soon stop as the cloud moved off to the south, but of course, a surprise followed.

Detail of Banksia flower

As the rain eased to a drizzle and I stood there like a drowned rat, I guessed within five minutes the tent could go up meaning I could then strip off, make coffee and get warm. But, as it happened, the cloud seemed to change its mind, deciding rather to do one more pass over the lone cycle tourist to give him one last drenching. In a matter of minutes the tent flew up while the rain kept falling hard. After a bit of mopping, things turned out to be relatively dry and it wasn't long before the coffee was brewed and the past couple of hours didn't seem so bad. The next morning made me realise that the rain really wasn't the worst of my worries because when I emerged from the tent there was a welcoming committee waiting for me.

One of my camping sites in the bush

Thousands of small black flies swarmed at my legs, arms and any exposed skin hoping to get a bit of blood breakfast. It seemed the decamp would have to match the set up for speed if I wanted to get away without a complete hammering. As fast as I moved and brushed them aside the midges came to my skin and got their morning feed. It was no good to try and fight them off - I just tried to move out as fast as possible. As I pedalled off down the road relief came when the swarm couldn't keep up with me any longer!

This tree definitely tells me the wind should be coming from behind me - so why am I getting a headwind!

Corona beer: Voted No. 1 beer in Australia judging by the number of empty bottles lying by the side of the road.

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Up the west coast of Australia

It's been five days or so since I rode out of Fremantle, heading north, at first along the coastal cycle path and then later on, along the Indian Ocean drive. I had delayed my departure again and again thanks to big thunder storms that kept rolling in across the city. I was prepared and all packed to get out on the road but the dark skies kept me from venturing out. Once I was on the move the weather would have to be accepted, but, while I had the choice to stay dry, I took it and hoped the weather would improve. Saturday was looking better on the forecast and, sure enough, the sun was shining when I looked out in the morning. Not being in a great rush to start, I went for coffee with Marion, Jade and Win at the Merchant coffee house where Johannes was working. After staying so long it was more than difficult to say goodbye, but around half past one I set off through Fremantle in the direction of Cottesloe. So thanks, guys, for having me to stay! Much appreciated!

Perth CBD

View of Perth from Kings Park

I wanted to make it out of the city before the sun dropped too far and find somewhere to make camp for the night. It seemed around 60 or 70 km would see me past the suburbs, but having not been on the bike for a while it was a good distance to cover in the remaining few hours of the day. Following the cycle route along the coast, I passed through Cottesloe, City Beach, Scarborough and Hillarys. All expensive looking suburbs right on the coast with access to the white sandy beach. Plenty of spots were available for surfing and sea kayaking and almost all parking places were full of locals and tourists enjoying the sun and the beach. Glad not to be on the road to begin with, I enjoyed the ride, soaking up the sights along the coast until the path ran out at Burns Beach, which seemed to be an half finished suburb. A bit of a double back got me going on the main road towards the suburb of Waneroo where I refilled my water at a petrol station. The rather confused looking Indian attendant enquired whether I wanted just 'normal' water. Outside was a tap where I collected my 'normal' water before pushing on past endless stretches of newly built houses. I suppose the guy behind the counter was used to people buying bottled water and found it hard to grasp that I was happy with the free stuff.

Swan River complete with Black Swans

Some kilometres after Waneroo the suburbs suddenly ended and the bush began. It was a clear cut line that seemed to be advancing north all the time as new plots are cleared and built upon. For me it was perfect as the sun was starting to sink below the horizon and the pain had started to build in my legs. Not far after the last buildings I ducked off into the Grass trees and Banksia bushes and found a suitable spot big enough to pitch my tent. It was a good feeling to be out camping again, self sufficent and without tight deadlines to aim for. I was, however, out of practice and would need a few days to get back into the routine of being on the road. Luckily, having done it before, I was pretty prepared and knew what to expect. That camping was the easy bit, the hard bit was waiting for my body adjust to the vigours of being in the saddle all day. I knew, though, that after a week or two my stamina would start to build and cycling all day wouldn't be a problem.

Swan River, Perth

Farewell in Freo, from left, Jade, Marion, Johannes, me and Win

Within the first ten minutes of setting up camp the joys of the bush emerged in the form of a troop of ticks that seemed intent on a free meal and then, later, a few determined mosquitos came to see what was on offer. In the night, Kangaroos hopped about outside my tent trying to see who was sleeping in their patch. It took me a while to work out what the noises were - having not experienced any kangaroos in the wild before - and, for some reason, I thought they wouldn't be so close to a town. Thoughts of drunk people from the suburb stumbling through the bush crossed my mind before I realised it was just harmless marsupials out for a night time meal.

Pure white sand dunes in the distance..

On the new Indian Ocean Drive - it has only been open for the last year

It was a cold long night. With not much to do after cooking I fell asleep by eight o'clock and was woken by a couple of the local Magpies. They were intent on parading about in the bushes around my tent while singing their fascinating tunes. Stiff from the previous day's riding and the cold night, it was a while before I was ready to start cycling again. Luckily, the morning sun helped me get going in the direction of Yanchep and then continue further on towards Two Rocks, Guilderton and Sea Bird. All the towns were off the main road, so I carried on, deciding to stop later at Ledge Point. A chance for some fishing might be possible, but, reaching the campsite, I was shocked to find that they wanted 38 dollars to pitch my tent. A swift fill of water and then a campsite in the bush suited me better, although it meant no fishing, which was probably a good thing as I was pretty exhausted.

Shingle back lizard comes in for attack!

Now I have reached Dongara where I'm staying in a great little backpackers. For only ten dollars, I can pitch my tent and have use of all the facilities. For 25 dollars you get to stay in an old, converted railway carriage, complete with kitchen and bathroom. The last few days I've passed along the coast road, stopping in at the towns of Lancelin, Cervantes, Jurien bay, Green head and Leeman. Nothing has persuaded me to stay in any of the places I have seen, so its usually been a quick look around, pick up of supplies and then back on the road.

Landscape of grass trees

Compared to my last trip, it's a bit of a novelty being able to continue cycling for a long time and not ever having to think about a border crossing and visas, or similar things. So at the moment, having started to feel a little more fit, I can see myself making a few stops, but heading north fairly fast to make the most of the cooler weather. Its apparently been a strange year here regarding the climate and so it seems as I head up the coast - the outback is green as opposed to red as I was expecting! It surely won't take too long for things to heat up and from what I've heard the North in the hot season is one sticky place to be. To get up there and explore while I can before the rains come seems to make sense.

Plenty of kangaroos but the only Emu I have seen was smeared down the centre of the road!

On the way from Perth I made a small side trip to the Pinnacles national park which has been one of the highlights of the trip so far. A few km from the main road a patch of desert opens up in the middle of the seemingly continuous green bush. There have been pure white sand dunes poking above the vegetation from time to time, but at this place the sand is rusty coloured and through it emerge huge numbers of sandstone pinnacles ranging from a few feet to twenty feet high. It's not a huge area, perhaps a hundred acres or so, and through the middle winds a dirt track. Luckily for me, I was early and had the whole place to myself apart from a few Galahs that were catching the early morning sun from the top of some of the stone pinnacles. Riding around the loop I wished it could have carried on for hundreds of kilometres.

Pinnacles desert

Along the coast I have passed through a number of 'Shires' and all seem to have pretty strict ideas about people camping in their bushlands. Any likely spot seems to have a sign warning likely campers that fines apply if the patrolling ranger catches you in the act. I imagine it has got a lot to do with people leaving litter and starting bush fires and the fact that tourist dollars to the campsites are important for the local economy. For me, though, travelling on the bicycle there is no way to stick to designated camping areas, plus I prefer the solitude of being out in the bush alone.



A few nights ago I stumbled across a superb spot where, of course, it is illegal to camp. It was situated on top of a hill, an old trig station that was used in the first land survey of the coast from Perth to Geraldton. Now the point, complete with stone cairn, is a purpose-built wooden lookout in a perfect place for a cycle tourer to sleep. At the car park a few hundred yards from the main road, a path winds up the hill through the low kwongan scrub to the peak where one is met with a 360 degree view of the surrounding landscape. To the west I could see the setting sun over the Indian ocean and, to the east, salt lakes separated me from pastures and, further towards the horizon, was Mount Leseur. To the north, possibly around 30 km as the crow flies, a huge black mushroom cloud with a flattened top rose high into the sky. Later, as it grew dark and the stars began to shine, the flames of the fire becames visible in the distance. Not long after, they grew dim and vanished as, presumably, crews were there trying to stop the damage that was being caused.

Galahs sunbathing

Lookout sunset

As the sun sank over the horizon the broken clouds transformed into a million colours and it seemed I had the best seat in the house. Eventually drawing myself away from the fantastic sunset when darkness began to set in, it wasn't long until a steak was sizzling in the frying pan, while I waited in anticipation for the next spectacular natural display. Again, I don't think a more perfect position could be found to admire the full glory of the night sky. As the last shards of sunlight dwindled into the approaching night the sky was transformed into a diamond encrusted tapestry broken down the centre by the Milky Way. It was one of those moments that I feel very privileged to travel in the way that I do. The downside, though, was that my tent had to be brought out to keep the hordes of mosquitoes at bay, otherwise I could have slept open under that sky. Later, I was glad of the shelter as a cold wind started blowing over the hill in the early hours of the morning ruffling the tent as it passed by.

Where I was expecting a nice white beach to camp on..I got tons of rotting seaweed instead!

As I followed the road north, I came across a couple of touring cyclists heading in the opposite direction. John and Frances from Edinburgh were nearing the end of their circumnavigation of Australia that had begun six months earlier in Perth. I wouln't like to guess how old they are, but if when I reach a similar age I can still ride a bike around Australia I will be very pleased. To top it all, a little more than a year ago John had a hip replacement, which obviously hasn't slowed him down too much. After chatting for a while, it emerged that not far behind them was another guy travelling by bike, this time from Essex. And it so happened later in the day I ran across Colin, who was camped on the beach that John and Frances had recommended to me. A few km before, I had taken a very steep track down from the road to what I expected would be a pleasant white sand beach. Instead, vast amounts of rotting sea weed stretched for kilometres down the coast. Not an ideal spot to camp. So, I hauled the bike back up to the road and carried on for a few more km until I found the 'free' camp spot where Colin was parked up, along with four or five couples travelling with caravans.

Camping by the beach with Colin

Colin had been touring all over Australia for more or less the last year and in that time had covered a good amount of ground. He was a mine of information about the route ahead of me and dispelled some myths I had been told by the locals. It seems to be a bit of a national past-time here in Australia to tell travellers about the dangers of the country, but as usual most of the stories don't hold too much weight, or at least I hope they don't! It seems the main issue is to make sure I have enough water to cover some of the long distances between roadhouses as I get a little further north. The longest stretches without water will hopefully take no more than three days to cover, which shouldn't be too hard as long as the headwinds aren't too strong.

Colin packed up and ready to move south

At last, I get to play on the sand dunes!

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