Hot and Cold

If you look at a map of South Australia, it is as if God realised his mistake and tried to claw away the oppressive heat and scorched land. But as the weather cooled he stopped. The result is a number of jagged peninsulas jutting out from the mainland, and we now found ourselves down the boot shaped one- the Yorke Peninsula.
As the rain came down we enjoyed the sweet relief. We will be forever grateful to the hospitality shown by Sam and Chris who invited us to stay until this cool change came through- some four days.

Our first stop was Ardrossan, on the east coast of the ‘Yorke’. A thriving sea port, on a clear day you can see across the water to Adelaide. But with the weather closing in, we marvelled at the red ochre cliffs that dropped to the ocean instead.
Mere kilometres are all that separates the towns of the Yorke. After the vast distances travelled between towns only recently, it took some getting used to. Or maybe it was the towns themselves that had us feeling a little nonchalant. Sure there were interesting discoveries like Wool Bay, where relics of an old lime kiln dug into the cliff remain (the industry died out in the 1950’s), but unless you are a keen fisherman the towns do not have much to offer (fishermen we are not).

Old lime kiln, Wool Bay

With such fertile land to grow barley, most of the peninsula is now farmland, the natural beauty simply cleared away.

However, a couple of nights in the historic town of Edithburgh allowed us slip back into our camper life. Many shipwrecks dot the coastline and the local cemetery provided an interesting insight into the tragedy of the ‘Clan Ranald’, shipwrecked in 1909. Forty lives were lost, all bar six an Asian crew. The Captain and esteemed cohorts are buried with full honours in the main body of the cemetery. The ‘Asians’ are buried in a mass grave some distance away, at the back of the cemetery.

A lonely mass grave, far away from the real cemetery

Although each crew members name was known, the mass grave was marked with a very small headstone stating ‘names unknown’. It wasn’t until the 90th anniversary that their names were finally recognised on a new headstone.

We were beginning to think that perhaps we were becoming a little ho-hum about our travels. With such a young history, much of Australia is the same, one coastal town much like the other. That was until we travelled to the ‘toe’ and Innes National Park. This was more like it- rugged coastline, spectacular scenery and a rich cultural heritage.

Our home, Innes National Park

A southerly breeze kept the air cool, but the sun enabled us to finally have a comfortable day on the beach. We had our mojo back, camped in the natural bushland with many emus for company. Contented after a day snorkelling and sunning, we took off to explore the park.

One of the locals, Innes National Park

With shipwrecks to discover our first stop was the ‘Ethel’. Back in 1940 this huge ship run into trouble on the reef. Salvage attempts only made it worse, securing the ship a grave at the base of the cliffs. Ironically, the first ship to encounter the troubled Ethel was the ‘Ferret’. Some 16 years later the Ferret too became shipwrecked at the same spot! The ravages of sixty years have left all but a rusting hull of Ethel, nature having reclaimed her body. It makes you wonder that no matter what we do to this earth, she will always win, simply reclaiming and adapting to a new way of surviving.

Wreck of the 'Ethel', Inneston National Park

Discovered in 1913, gypsum was once a rich mining industry of Inneston, which now lies within the boundaries of the National Park. The town, owned by the mining company, thrived and was a completely self sufficient community. That was until the depression of the 1930’s. A 2km walk took us through the remains of the abandoned town.

The Post Office, Inneston







Ruins, Inneston

The ruins of the post office, general store, factory, bakery, once grand homes, sporting grounds and stables, show it would have been a comfortable existence, albeit with no running water or electricity. Back in those days, before any environmentl concerns, rubbish was collected and piled at the top of the cliff edge. When the pile got big a tractor pushed it over, the rubbish falling onto the rocks and into the ocean below. Rubbish still remains at the cliff top, and is now heritage listed. In their wildest dreams, I'm sure the residents would not have imagined their broken crockery and used containers would become such. ...

Heritage listed rubbish. Broken plates and bottles dotting the clifftop


But it was the high energy coastline, sculptured by an unpredictable Southern Ocean that gave us the most rewarding views. It is no wonder there are remains of about 40shipwrecks here.

But, in need of a real shower and power, it was onward to Point Turton. Another coastal fishing town, but it did have a tavern perched high on the cliff top. As the sun descended on another day, we enjoyed a cold one and thought it all not too bad.

With no real destination in mind, we meandered our way up the west coast.

Yorke Peninsula coast

Stopping in at the odd little village to break the journey, we soon settled ourselves at Moonta. Luckily, Moonta has a certain charm of yesteryear. The buildings hark back to the late 1800’s when skilled Cornish migrants flocked to work in the copper mines.



Remains of the copper mining industry

Lucky, because we were to be here for four days, awaiting a new tyre from Adelaide- our first ‘car’ casualty to date.

At its peak the infrastructure built at the mine sites was on a grand scale. It was really quite bewildering to see photos from the heyday, looking across the stark ruins today. The buildings in the town itself have changed little. The shop names may have changed, but we still had to drive down a little alley at the back of the pub in order to buy takeaway alcohol.



Standing atop the tailings pile, across to the enginehouse