In the morning we had a quick breakfast and then followed the North West Coastal Highway twenty four Km North of Canarvon before taking the turn off to the Blow Holes. The way was sealed for fifty kilometers and then turned into a dirt road. "KING WAVES KILL" read the road sign by the rock edge, a warning that although the coast seemed serene, the hidden swell could be deadly and dangerous. Many unsuspecting people had been swept off the rocks here, never to return...
We watched the water shooting up through the hole in the flat rock as the swell punched through it, spraying water high into the air, then once more we headed North, following the dusty coast road for about 10kms before we reached the homestead of Quobba Station. From here we travelled along a bumpy white sandy track...
I carefully maneuvered the bus through the semi soft sand, not so soft that we were likely to get bogged, however it was patchy in some spots with alternating areas of soft and hard gravel. The top safe speed that you can do on this track was about fifty kph back then, we were currently doing about thirty...
Suddenly, three emu's came from nowhere, sprinting alongside the bus through the low scrub they dropped down onto the track in front of us, their long legs throwing up the white sand as they ran. They stayed in front of us for a few minutes before veering away back into the scrub. "Could have had BBQ'd emu for lunch" said Vegemite as he settled back down into the front passengers seat.
The fifty four kilometers out to Red Bluff took us about an hour and twenty minutes. After we arrived (and paid our $15 per head at the makeshift office) the desert vista opened out to a brilliant turquoise sea. The Bluff stuck out prominently off the point, red dotted with the dark green blobs of salt bush, its base forming a flat ,low lying, cliff edge which jutted out into the ocean.
The swell was minimal. We parked the bus high on the hill, not far from one of the many thatched pit toilets that had been strategically placed around the camp zone. The view was INCREDIBLE! We had a fire pit, all to ourselves, out of the wind on the hill side of the vehicle.
While the girls prepared lunch, Vegemite and I took some rope and the bike back up to the plateau to collected fire wood. Once we had collected enough, we bundled it all together behind the bike and dragged it along the sandy track back to the bus. Lunch was ready, the esky was full of ice and beer, and we were all set for our first night... BLISS!
Its interesting how the sexes balance each other out. The atmosphere was completely different with the girls. Not only had the dynamics of self sufficiency changed, but our rough ways of relating with each other as young men also mellowed. Couples found their own private time away from the group and things where, on the whole, much more civil. It was a different trip, but non the less a fun one.
Any desert, like a mundane view of life, can seem like a forbidding place. But just like a desert, beyond the seen- that shimmering illusion of heat, is a kind of wonder that can blow your mind and change your life.
Illusions are tricky things. They only work as illusions if you think you know what’s there, which for many people is nothing much. We can see, but only to a point. We can only see the surface.
Buddhism calls this surface view of things “Sign.” I like to think of it as natures “Misdirected Sign” a trick, that points us in the opposite direction, just like a local surfer who doesn’t want you to discover his favorite break.
Everything has its own (Misdirected) “Sign”. A flower, a pen, a rock, all the things of everyday life. Seeing beyond sign requires understanding the deeper nature of what you are looking at, penetrating, beyond its surface, with thought and not just the eyes. Seeing what’s beyond the surface with your mind.
The starting point comes back to re-evaluating the importance of wonder, that which is reflected in the mind of any small child. That also which is conveyed in the surfing term “Stoked!” This term originated from the concept of “stoking a fire,” the action of stirring its embers to create more heat and thereby releasing more energy. Wonder does that. Surfers are stoked when they get an awesome wave, or pull into the beach car park to find it with light off shore winds, five foot waves, and nobody out.
It is wonder about what your life really is, when you ignore what you see thereby stoking the fire of your mind to new discoveries.
Taking things (and life) for granted, sucks!
Next Post: The Big Swell!
