Willie Creek is home to crocs so there is no swimming, but it is possible, with care, to fish off the rocks. Perhaps Andy will have more success here for it is a popular fishing location for people with boats. But the only catch today is a poisonous puffer fish, which true to it’s name, instantly puffs itself out to double its original size hissing as it does so. That one is straight back in the water! Willie Creek is a busier and less remote spot than we had imagined; the pearl farm attracts several 4wd visitors as well as the tour bus which does the run from town twice a day. And their generator provides a steady background hum. We pack up camp around 12.30 with the intention of stopping at one of the sites further up the road. According to the book both Berred Creek and Quondong Beach are accessible to 2wd. On the dusty and corrugated surface we can only manage about 20kms an hour (sometimes we reach the dizzying heights of 25 kmp) anything more and the van starts to shudder violently. But we have all afternoon and nothing to rush for.
The book turns out to be wildly inaccurate both in terms of distances and the accessibility of the sites. The side track off to Berred Creek dissolves into sand just as we approach the camp ground and anticipating we may well get stuck here, we turn round and try for Quondong Beach which, again according to the book should be only a few more kilometers down the unsealed road, but is in fact about 36km from Willie Creek (twice as far as the book estimates). After about an hour and half’s drive we are at last in sight of the sea and the camp ground must surely be just around the corner, when the surface deteriorates into deep and uneven ruts. Prudence tells we cannot negotiate and we have to admit defeat. So back to Willie Creek, stopping for a picnic in the road under the shade of an overhanging tree. Even here we are passed by two solicitous passersby, who stop to ensure we aren’t in trouble. The whole round trip takes about 3-and-an-half hours!
On our return Willies Creek is deserted and we take a walk round the sand and rock coastline past the mangroves until be come to a sign marking the start f a detention area for illegal Indonesian fishing vessels and beyond which there is no public access!. This is a lovely stretch of wild and unspoilt coastline.
We muse about whether crocs inhabit the estuary – can we see their snouts just above the surface of the water? Are the ripples and splashes crocs feeding on the local fish? In the failing light it is just too difficult to tell, even with binoculars. But we are not about to get much closer to find out!
After dark (and yet another gloriously vivid red sunset) another 2wd camper arrives. Braver souls than we, making the journey down the unsealed road at night. All gung-ho, they sail passed us into a sandy area just further along the shore and get stuck in the process. There is little we can do to help other than offer some advice and provide a couple of pieces of carpet, which have been left behind by someone presumeably in a similar predicament, to put under their wheels. Eventually they ettract themsel (long after we would have given up and waited until morning) and park up on firmer ground.
Beautiful as it is, the one major drawback to this site is the mozies and sandflies. It is inudated with them. Despite using repellant and covering up with shirt and trousers, I’m being bitten to pieces. Even mozzie coilds and a fire don’t deter the little blighters. Nothing for it, but to retreat into the van and the refuge of the mozzie net.