Day 32 Cape Leveque

A cool, gusty wind blew in at 3:30 this morning and apart from chasing me out of bed to close a couple of windows and pull a sheet over the boys, the wind shook every bird around us out of their nest and set the orchestra off early. I climbed back into bed and pulled the pillow tight around my ears before finally drifting off for another hour of peaceful slumber.
Without the need to pull down the van, we had a relaxed, (second time around), start to the day but we still managed a relatively early start for Cape Leveque. We loaded the final few items onto the roof, squeezed the esky into the back, attached the rods, and threw the food on top of the sky. During the drive we listened to the second part of Roald Dahl’s The BFG, (thanks Ed), and when that finished, Jacqui replayed all the conversations she’d overheard about ‘avoiding the creeks’ and ‘the croc’s are spreading’. There are crocs in the area but they generally don’t hang around the beaches but never-the-less, we need to stay alert, if only for peace of mind.
2 Hours into the drive we turned off to Beagle Bay looking for the church we’d been told was worth a stop. We weren’t disappointed and took a bunch of photo’s of the church’s interior and particularly, of its Mother-of-pearl alter. 90% of the local community we saw is indigenous and even though we saw number of ‘well used’ cars driving around without windscreens, doors or number plates, we were impressed by the people and the local environment. Both are leaps ahead of the indigenous communities we saw at Yuendumu and Bililuna on the Tanami.
An hour after leaving Beagle Bay, we arrived in Cape Leveque at a place called Kooljaman and I could easily extend the 2 day stay into a 2 month sojourn. We’ve been allocated one of only 4 beach shelters and although fairly primitive, they’re perfect in this climate. Our shack has 3 sides and a flat roof, all lined with some sort of bound grass and the 4th side is completely open and facing the beach. At high tide, we’re about 20 meters from wet feet and as we settled in for the afternoon, there was a distinct ‘Swiss Family Robinson’ feel about the place. We spent the afternoon strolling along the deserted beach before collecting driftwood for our fire and throwing in a line. As usual, nothing was caught but the seclusion and the colours on the water and in the sky as the sun set had us all feeling pretty lucky. How often will we have the opportunity to stand on a deserted, pristine beach in daylight, without another person in sight?
The boys are trashed and after a few sausage sandwiches from the plate over the fire, they’ve began to drift off with the sounds of the waves crashing just meters away. Once Jacqui and I finish our glass of wine, and the fire dies away, we’ll be right behind them.
Cheers,
Jorg