Across the Tropic of Capricorn and we are now officially in the ever-widening tropical belt.  As we inch our way north, daytime temperatures are on the up and although still chilly in the evenings and at night, the mad dash to remove clothes and clamber into bed, as a matter of some urgency, has been replaced with a much more relaxed performance.   The infuriating need to pee in the middle of the night, that arises whenever the temperature drops, has disappeared and our world, generally, is just a little bit better. 

As previously mentioned, there are a lot more caravans and 4x4 travellers on the road, all competing for space in camping grounds and road-side rest stops.  Wild camping, up until now, has been pretty straightforward – about 3.30/4.00pm we start looking for somewhere to pull off the road, get far enough away from the road so that we can let Leroy loose without worrying about him causing a major pile-up and set up camp.  Now, however, there are fences running parallel to the highway and it takes a lot more creativity to find a suitable spot.  Much of the fenced off area seems to be owned by massive sheep and cattle stations whose land extends right up to and includes huge swathes of the mid to northwestern shoreline which means that even though the main highway is often not that far from the coast you can’t just turn off and access what must be hundreds of kilometers of some of the most beautiful coast in the world. 

Small seaside towns are strung along this remote coastline, but they are few and far between, and inevitably a popular destination for many travellers.  Coral Bay is one such town, a small coastal settlement 1,200km north of Perth.  Despite its small size, basically one main street, a handful of shops and cafes and two caravan parks, Coral Bay is high up on the “must do” list given its unique location which is in close proximity to the Ningaloo Reef.  The Ningaloo Reef is nearly 300km long, stretching southward from the large(ish) town of Exmouth and the largest fringing coral reef in the world.  Interestingly it is the only extensive reef that has formed on the western side of a continent.  Coral Bay derives its name from the fact that, at this point, the coral reef is less than 500 metres from the shore making it easily accessible.  The reef protects a lagoon that is on average only 2-4 metres deep and is rich in marine life. Although most famous for its whale sharks, the reef is part of the migratory routes for dolphins, dugongs, manta rays and humpback whales and supports an abundance of fish (500 species), corals (300 species), molluscs (600 species) and many other marine invertebrates. The beaches of the reef are an important breeding ground of the loggerhead, green and hawksbill turtles.

Mindful of preservation but, no doubt, wishing to remain the premier tourist area from which to visit the reef, there is a regional strategy in place at Coral Bay that restricts overnight tourists, semi-permanent workers and day visitors to 5,300 at any given time, quite astounding considering that the static population is just 207 (2016 census).  As we had booked to swim with the whale sharks out of Exmouth, 150km further up the coast, there wasn’t any particular reason for visiting this small town, other than it was on our way and, there was internet, showers and washing machines. 

 We stayed two nights before suddenly realising that we had reserved a three-night spot at North Lefroy, a beach camping site on Ningaloo Station.  Given the current climate both temperature wise and Covid driven, these beach camping spots are almost impossible to get hold of and we had been incredibly lucky to grab a cancellation at the last minute.  With some speed we departed and headed north 100km to arrive at yet another idyllic spot with soft white sand and the clear blue waters that we were becoming accustomed to.  These rugged camping spots attract yet another type of traveller.  Too inaccessible for most caravans and without an alluring surf, the fishing and remoteness draw in a different crowd.  These 4x4 enthusiasts are typical Australians, rugged, tough and capable with vehicles to match.  They inflate/deflate tyres quicker than at any pit stop and drive at top speed regardless of road surface.  Their roof racks are crammed with the most precarious loads and, more often than not, the poor tinny is hanging on for dear life behind.  However, once safely set up at their allotted sand dune, they are, like the surfing guys, a relatively quiet crowd which makes for a very relaxing and peaceful environment with the bonus that if anything goes wrong there will be no shortage of someone to fix it.

Exmouth was our next stop and what a great town this is.  Despite being overloaded with tourists it manages to maintain an easy-going, laid back atmosphere offering great food and numerous marine activities.  The town was born at the height of the Cold War to play a critical role in the fight against communism.  In 1967, then-prime minister Harold Holt commissioned the Naval Communication Station, the original primary purpose being to enable the US Navy to communicate with submerged submarines (and surface vessels) in the Indian Ocean and western Pacific Ocean. Transmissions were Very Low Frequency radio signals which follow the curvature of the earth and hence can be received at great distances and detected more than twenty metres underwater. Transmission of such radio signals required more than a million watts of power and the construction of thirteen towers more than 300 metres high to support a network of antenna wires.  For many years these towers were the tallest buildings in the southern hemisphere, and for comparison, many were higher than the Eifel Tower.  For more than two decades this station was a key link in US Navy communications sending encrypted messages to US and Australian navy submarines.  The town was built at the same time as the communications station to provide support to the base and to house dependent families of US Navy personnel.  By 1992, the United States no longer needed direct access to the base and the long-resident Naval Security Group detachment was withdrawn in October 1997 when Australia took over responsibility for the facility.  Although the base still remains today it is a little like a ghost town with the bowling alley, swimming pool and housing estate all abandoned.

We now had a choice of routes heading north towards Broome.  We could continue 1300 km along the Great Northern Highway and it’s never-changing scenery or add another 300km and drive inland into the Pilbarra, a large, dry, thinly populated region known for its ancient landscapes and vast mineral deposits.  Saying goodbye to the beaches and baristas we headed inwards, towards the now familiar red earth.  Other than the fact that a chap we met had recommended this part of Australia, we had no idea what to expect and honestly weren’t overly optimistic given that the main attraction was the Karijini National Park which was obviously off limits to us with Leroy.  It was therefore most surprising that what we saw over this five-day trip entirely changed our perspective of what the Australian Outback has to offer.  We were blown away by the changing rock forms and soft muted colours of both the plains and ranges.  There were no flies nor mosquitoes and hardly anyone around.  The nuisance fences we had been getting accustomed to disappeared and we were spoilt for choice as we went from one free camp to the next.  There are few communities within this area and as we passed through Purabadoo and Tom Price we could hardly believe we were seeing these oasis-like towns with their irrigated centres and palm trees.  A quick glance at the local community board almost made us want to hang around to take part in the weekly quiz night, upcoming dog show, astronomy sessions, fancy dress trivia night and the Nameless Jarndunmunha Festival Roaring Twenties Ball.  Not bad for a dwindling population of around 3,000.

Rio Tinto is the main employer in the area with 16 mines in the region, mainly extracting iron ore.  Aside from the thundering road trains there is a very impressive railway network that, when launched in 2019, was the world's first heavy-haul automated rail network (AutoHaul) capable of moving about one million tonnes of iron ore a day.  AutoHaul operates up to 50 automated and unmanned trains at any one time. Each train is 2.4km long and requires two to three locomotives which, on average, travel 40 hours to cover an 800km journey between the mines and ports.  We were extremely fortunate to arrive at a railway crossing just moments before one of these trains and for the 15-20 minutes that we sat there, can verify that these trains have 240 carriages.

Tom Price is the nearest town to Karijini National Park and we were delighted to find ourselves on a road that took us straight through the middle of the Park.  Even better, all the main lookout points were a short walk from the various car parks meaning we were able to leave Leroy in the car and have a quick look at some of the Park's spectacular gorges with their waterfalls and waterholes, surrounded by red layered cliffs that have been in existence for over 2,500 million years.

Marble Bar is another small community in the area and we were a bit unlucky to be a day late to take part in their annual racing festival.  It wasn’t the horses that we minded missing out on but we were a bit miffed not to take part in the Marble Bar Cup Mixed Breed Undies Run.  Given the title of 'the hottest town in Australia', a fact which is still recorded by the Guinness Book of Records, I guess running around in one’s undies is not such a bad idea.  The record stands for 161 consecutive days to 20 April, 1924 when the temperature never dropped below 37.8°C.

Despite the natural beauty of this area, we didn’t really see much traffic outside of mining trucks and equipment.  That's not to say the roads were quiet as more often than not we found ourselves wedged in amongst a variety of oversized vehicles and road trains, all hurtling along at about 110kmh.  It was therefore inevitable that at some point we would find ourselves with a smashed windscreen and spend the rest of the day hanging around in a patch of cell coverage trying to sort out insurance and repairs. 

Broome was the obvious place to get the windscreen replaced as we were heading there anyway and had already booked a couple of nights in an Airbnb.  A slight issue was the glass would take over a week to arrive.  It took us exactly 15 minutes to find out that every caravan park in the area was completely full and no-one could squeeze us in, that is until we came across the Seventh-Day Adventist Church which acts as somewhat of an overflow for those unorganized folk that haven't managed to book ahead.  What a find this turned out to be – fantastic facilities for the princely sum of $175 for seven nights, 3km from Cable Beach.

We now found ourselves with enough time to get some essential work done.  A leg wax was definitely in order and, would you believe, Jess who was running a waxing salon from her home just outside the centre of Broome, used to be a Kalgoorlie Skimpie.  She lasted 8 months in the job, often making tips of up to $1,000 a night, before departing with a miner to the beaches of Broome.  Bob also required a bit of TLC as all the rattling around on unsealed roads had caused the back door to come apart and the metal section that affixes to one of the mud guards to completely disintegrate.  We also needed to replace the 7-year old starter battery which had been throwing out some funny readings and on one occasion had failed to start the car. I hope this high maintenance is not a sign of things to come!

There are a couple of major events that put Broome on the map.  The first being the European discovery of the vast pearl oyster beds found in the vicinity, the second the laying of a telegraph cable linking Java and the northwest coast of Australia.  The cable was laid to replace the two existing cables running from Java to Darwin which had been broken due to volcanic activity.  The new cable was landed on the beach in February 1889 at a place that has ever since been known as Cable Beach.  A section of cable was then run from the beach across the peninsula to Broome from where the cable was linked to the overland telegraph line from Perth.  Laying of a new cable from Durban, South Africa to Adelaide in 1901 rendered the undersea Broome cable redundant and it was eventually removed in 1914.

Long before Europeans arrived in Australia, Aboriginal people collected and ate pearl shell oysters.  The shells were of great significance in the northwest and archaeological evidence indicates they were traded to other areas.  Territory rock art suggests journeys by the Makassans from Sulawesi, Indonesia, were occurring as early as the sixteenth century.  This represents perhaps the earliest trading of Australian pearl shell.

Any discussion around pearls and pearling is usually about the gem and in particular South Sea pearls.  Often referred to as the Rolls Royce of pearls, they are the largest and most valuable grown today with average sizes ranging from 10-15mm.  The oyster producing these pearls is native to Australia, the Philippines, Myanmar and Indonesia.  The pearl gem industry is fascinating, but vastly different to the pearling industry which gave birth to the town of Broome. 

The pearl oyster was first discovered by Europeans at the turn of the 18th century at Shark Bay but the findings of much larger oysters and their shells was higher up the coast in the early 1860s.  During this time in Europe, mother-of-pearl buttons were a fashionable addition to aristocratic wardrobes and demand for shell products, in particular buttons, was high and good quality pearl shell highly sought after.

Newspaper coverage about the discovery of plentiful beds of a new type of shell - the huge Pinctada maxima – off the northwest coast of Australia generated a flurry of excitement and the race to collect shell began in earnest.

In the late 1800s slavery had long been abolished in the British Empire and the United States, but in north-west Australia it was a mainstay of the burgeoning pearl shell industry.  Numerous police and government reports record how Aboriginal people from the Pilbara and Kimberley regions were forced to work as divers, swimming without any equipment from pearl lugger boats.  Slave traders were known as blackbirders and would round up Aboriginal men at gunpoint and sell them to pearling captains.  

“The powers of the natives in diving, especially the females, are spoken of as something wonderful, they go down to a depth of seven fathoms and remain below a time that astonishes their white employers.”

Perth Gazette and West Australian Times, 25 September 1868 

In the 1870s the growth in demand and reducing numbers of Aboriginal workers gave pearlers a reason to look for recruits from overseas, primarily Asia.  Shell found in shallow waters was collected with relative ease but as the shallows became depleted, sourcing the shell from deeper waters became necessary using far more dangerous methods.  By the 1880s attention had shifted to the rich pearl beds in the Broome region and the town was founded in 1883 as a port for the pearling industry and named after the then Governor of Western Australia, Sir Frederick Broome who was reported to be beyond horrified at his name being given to the scruffy assortment of pearling camps lining the bay.  The practice of skin diving (diving naked with no equipment) was soon superseded as the need for diving suits was recognised to access the deeper oyster beds.  The equipment used was German-designed and included a helmet and a wire-reinforced rubber air hose, supplied by a hand-operated air pump on the boat.  Each boat, or lugger, had only one or two divers. The diver climbed into the sea, weighted down by 6 kg boots and 50 kg of lead lashed to his body, diving to a depth of 36 to 45 metres. Holding his air hose and a rope, he walked on the seabed picking up shells.  He communicated with the boat by a coded set of tugs on the rope, which was then used to haul both diver and shells back to the boat.  Each dive was quite short, generally between five and 20 minutes on the ocean floor. 

Amongst the Asian migrants working in the industry the Japanese divers were in high demand due to their skill and expertise with the diving equipment, as well as their exceptional energy and endurance enabling them to make up to 50 dives a day, but the industry suffered from a high death toll, with hazards from shark attack, cyclones and frequently, the bends (driver’s paralysis).  The Japanese cemetery in Broome is the resting place of 919 Japanese divers who lost their lives working in the pearling industry. Many more were lost at sea and the exact number of deaths is not known. 

The adoption of the White Australia Policy in 1901, a series of acts with a common goal - to achieve and maintain a white, British national character, caused a few issues for the pearlers.  On the one hand the strong anti-Asian sentiment and migration laws were making it difficult for Asians to work in the industry and on the other, backed by the Royal Commission, a recommendation that Europeans should not be encouraged to enter such an arduous and dangerous occupation left the pearlers without divers and crew.  An attempt to get around the issue led to the government recruiting British navy divers but when some died and the remainder declined to continue, the power and influence of the pearlers effected the passing of another law, making Broome exempt from Australia’s Immigration Restriction Act.   By 1910 Broome was the largest pearling centre in the world supplying around 70% of all pearl shell.

The continued migration of Malay, Filipino, Chinese, and Japanese well into the 20th century can easily be seen today as their descendants make up a substantial proportion of Broome's multicultural population.  Such diversity within a community often acts as a good leveller and this is probably one of the main attractions of Broome.  Despite the heavy influx of tourists, often to saturation point, this small town is mellow and the oft seen signs dotted about promoting ‘Broome Time' sum It up perfectly.  Cable Beach is, without doubt, stunning.  22 km of pristine white sand, edged on one side by the stunning turquoise water of the Indian Ocean and on the other by sand dunes and ochre red cliffs.  Unlike many other popular beach escapes, Broome is relatively undeveloped (something that looks to be changing before too long) with just the one resort and one bar actually on the beach.  As you would expect, the beach area in front of the bar is packed but just around the lighthouse peninsula there are a number of access points onto completely deserted beaches which left us somewhat bemused.  We have now been here 10 nights and are not planning to leave for another week.  Broome has worked its magic – and there was always a reluctance to leave before the showing of F9 at the oldest garden cinema in the world.