Yorke Peninsula

Our first two days on the Yorke Peninsula were spent at the pretty seaside town of Port Broughton, once an important 19th century shipping and fishing port but now a holiday destination for the surrounding rural area and far-away Adelaide. Our time there was very relaxing with the first day taking drives into the surrounding countryside investigating what was on offer and generally sightseeing, while on the second day we drove to the nearby industrial city of Port Pirie to undertake some serious reprovisioning.

And of course at dusk on both days we were there we made of point of sitting on the foreshore with a glass of wine watching the spectacular sunset over the bay with yachts and fishing boats at anchor in the foreground.

Leaving Port Broughton our next scheduled stop was Wallaroo where we had pre-booked into a beachside caravan park where we would remain until the following Wednesday, by which time the required parts should arrive at the local Nissan dealer at nearby Kadina allowing repaired to be carried out on the car. After settling into the park it was off to explore the local area (as barren as it was) including following the local tourist route with its narrative about the township and its multitude of historic stone buildings reflecting construction techniques of earlier days. The day’s exploration ended with a drive down to the local beach that like most public beaches in country South Australia vehicular traffic is permitted on. Surprising the beach was quite crowded even though we thought the weather was far from “tropical”.

Wallaroo is also home to the Yorke Peninsula Tourist Train, a train being owned, operated and maintained by the local chapter of the international community service organization “Lions”. The train makes regular trips from Wallaroo to Bute via Kadina making stops thus allowing passengers the opportunity to investigate, shop, have lunch, etc at the various communities; the one hundred kilometres return trip costs $50. Unfortunately even community service organizations are not immune to the ravages of vandals with a portion of the train having been recently adorned with graffiti by local youths.

Nearby Moonta was the focus of our attention on Sunday setting off mid morning with our first stop being Warburto Point with its seaweed and kelp covered beach, a common occurrence in these areas. Apparently the ‘locals’ must have regular inoculations to ward off the odours emanating from the mountains of decaying rubbish as they seem totally oblivious to the smell. While there we met up with a couple local farmers who during our course of conversation suggested that on our return to Wallaroo we should follow the coastal track from Warburto Point.

Armed with that piece of local information we made a hasty retreat from the smells of the beach continuing into Moonta, visiting the beachside suburbs of Moonta Bay and Port Hughes, and being absolutely flabbergasted at the asking prices for real estate. After lunch at a local café in Moonta’s main street it was back to Warburto Point to tackle the coastal drive back to Wallaroo. The farmers description of the drive as being ‘interesting’ was an understatement with the track requiring us to cross numerous salt pans, navigate through acres of seaweed, forge salt water creeks (much to Leigh’s disgust), shake rattle and roll over rough tracks, while all the time following a less than scenic rocky coastline; we eventually arriving back at Wallaroo some one and half hours later – the main road would have taken 10 minutes.

Driving back into town Leigh sighted a golf course and decided it would be pleasant to hit a few balls around for a change. Resurrecting his clubs from out of the back of car and with his trusty caddy in tow we headed out to the course for a quick nine holes. The course was different to say the least. The “Greens” were actually a mixture of waste oil and sand hence were “Black”, the fairways had some grass but were mostly rock and dirt, but at least the “Tee’s” were lush lawn. Leigh didn’t bother with the chipping and putting portion of the game (much to my relief) as he didn’t particularly relish the idea of getting oil-encrusted sand over his shoes, on himself, or in the car.

With another two days left to amuse ourselves until the car is repaired, it was a case rationing what few things there was to do or see in the local area. Monday morning after a late late breakfast we headed into the nearby town of Kadina to ensure that all was on schedule for the car to be repaired on Tuesday. Confident that everything was in place for Tuesday our next port of call was the small community of Bute (pronounced Beaut, as in Beauty), the town supposedly deriving its name from a small Scottish island (so I’m told but since I don’t have an Atlas I can’t confirm that little story).

While there were some interesting buildings and residences in the town including one that entire front yard was adorned with relics, it didn’t take long for us to tour all six streets before then making our way to Snowtown for a dose of the macabre. As most of you are aware Snowtown recently achieved notoriety as the setting for a series of horrific murders by a gang committed against social security recipients so that they could claim the entitlements; after being tortured and murdered the bodies were stored in sealed drums in the vaults of an abandoned bank in the main street virtually next door to the local police station.

Finished with Snowtown we backtracked to Bute while at the same time getting glimpses from the crest of several small hills of the saltpans that dot the area before turning west and making our way to Tickera, a small coastal community we visited on our last sojourn into the Yorke Peninsula; I’m glad to report that progress definitely hasn’t caught up with the town, and that’s not necessarily a good thing for Tickera.

With the car booked in at 08.00 Tuesday morning, with much effort we dragged ourselves out of bed and headed for Kadina, the plan being that since the required time to carry out the job was only about an hour we would deposit the car at the garage then go find somewhere for a country breakfast, by then the rectifications to car would be completed and we could be on our way. Well that was the plan. Of course the realization never dawned upon us that because we were in a small country community there wouldn’t be any eateries open at 08.00, in fact there was nothing open at that hour except a local service station with a café attached; breakfast consisted of an egg and bacon roll washed down with a cup of coffee, not quite the scrumptious meal we had envisaged.

With ‘brekkie’ out of the way it was back to collect the car and then heading for the local supermarket to collect a few “last minute” necessities in preparation for “going bush” the next day. With the shopping out of the way, it was time to visit the local information centre that just happened to have Internet facilities for laptop computers (hooray, at last). With all the boring stuff out of the way and with my trusty caddie in tow it was back over to the Wallaroo Golf Course for a hit on the magnificent rock and oil adorned course followed by a late lunch at a local waterfront café.

Since the lack of water was now going to be an issue for the next five or six days, the final task before leaving for Innes National Park on Wednesday was ensuring that we had a full complement water, in this case about two hundred fifty litres. First stop was Moonta for breakfast, a real breakfast, with Leigh demolishing a plate of “greasies” and Mita hoeing into Pancakes.

Feeling guilty but definitely satisfied it was time to tackle the multitude of dirt roads that infest the bottom section of the Yorke Peninsula but thankfully most of the roads from previous experience are quite trafficable. Our first port of call was the settlement of Balgowan where we had intended to stay. Unhitching the van at the local boat ramp we visited a succession of nearby camping spots and while all very pretty and offered great scenery the access roads into the camping areas were abysmally rough. Of course the sight of a snake slithering through one of the intended campsites didn’t quite enthuse Mita either.

Disappointed at not being able to safely access the Balgowan camping areas we moved onto nearby Port Victoria. Port Victoria was in its heyday the 4th largest exporting port in South Australia and in 1949 the last Australian port to host a commercial square-rigger. Today the town is a mere shadow of its past supporting a population of not much more than three hundred people, all mostly retiree’s or ardent fishermen, or both.

Next destination after Port Victoria was Port Rickaby, another old town that in its prime was an important shipping port but now is only a mere shadow of its past; with a population of barely one hundred thirty people it was a case of simply driving in and back out on the one and only bitumen road in the town. By this stage we’d had enough of dirt roads so decided to stick to the bitumen and continue into nearby Minlaton for afternoon tea. Being such a huge town (yeah right) we parked opposite the one and only café in the town and after perusing what was available Mita decided on a coffee and Leigh a pot of tea from a less than imaginative menu with every course being accompanied by chips and/or salad hence the options to have something to nibble on with our coffee and tea were severely limited - it was a plate of chips!!!!!

Not much happens in Minlaton these days however they do have a museum honouring pioneer aviator and WW1 fighter ace Harry Butler that is well worth visiting; the museum not only houses his 1916 fighter aircraft but also provides a detailed history about the aviator and his accomplishments which are substantial.

Having finished with Minlaton, Mita and I had intended following the coast road around to Point Turton however after having been spoilt by driving on a bitumen road we suffered a sudden loss of enthusiasm for driving on more dirt roads. Point Turton is another one of those old town that in days gone by relied heavily on shipping for its economic sustainability however in this case the towns people have made a concerted effort to attract tourism by constructing a protected boat harbour, boat ramps, plus a community run caravan park with views out over the bay, the park being built in the old quarry used to obtain the materials for the construction of boat harbour; I might add that it was possibly one of the nicest, friendliest, cleanest and inexpensive parks we have stayed at for quite some time, especially on this trip.

Our next destination was Corny Point located on the upper South West extremity of the Yorke Peninsula and much to our delight discovered that the inland road had been recently sealed; no prizes for guessing which road we took especially after being told that the coastal dirt road wasn’t in that great a condition.

Once again our intentions were to bush camp about five kilometres out of Corny Point at one of several camping areas overlooking the Southern Ocean; that plan was soon canned when the bitumen ran out and we found ourselves being shaken to death on severely corrugated dirt roads after only travelling about one kilometre. With common sense prevailing we backtracked to Corny Point and started heading east towards Innes National Park on the way visiting several bays and inlets in the hope of finding an alternative camping venue but it was the same scenario as previously with the road conditions being abysmal.

We eventually ended up arriving at Innes National Park mid afternoon, and about five days ahead of schedule.

The Innes NP region was initially settled in 1880 by William Innes when he discovered Gypsum with mining operations subsequently commencing in 1890. In 1913 he constructed a processing plant at Inneston plus an export facility at nearby Stenhouse Bay; production eventually ended in 1970 with a few of the remaining buildings in the old Inneston township now being utilized as tourist accommodation whilst the jetty is a favourite fishing location.

As a result of being exposed to the winter fury of the Southern Ocean the Innes NP coastline consists of rocky headlands, wavecut platforms and an extensive series of sandy beach’s, all making an idyllic summer location for surfing or fishing enthusiasts, or those just wishing to enjoy the tranquillity away from the hustle and bustle of not to distant Adelaide. However away from the coast the park scenery is vastly different consisting mainly of arid scrub land, stunted trees, sand dunes, plus numerous salt lakes and salt pans dotting the area.
The next three days were pleasant albeit having to keep an ever-watchful eye open for stay emus and kangaroo’s wandering across the road. Our time at Innes NP was taken up visiting a myriad of deserted beach’s, coves, headlands, climbing heavens knows how many headlands, visited lighthouses, and investigated numerous old ruins before eventually returning to the van to replace lost bodily fluids. Of course with the advent of human interaction we had one instance of the ‘Roo’s doing a midnight raid on our barbeque, knocking it over at some ungodly hour in the morning and frightening the heck of us.

On our last day at Innes NP Leigh once again wasn’t disappointed when we tackled the walk up to Royston Head, the highest point within the National Park; Leigh is convinced I have a fetish (at his expense) for climbing mountains. Three hours later we eventually returned to van, showered, donned fresh cloths, and hit the road heading to nearby Yorketown. All in all it was a pleasant few days at Innes, and he had to admit the views from Royston Head over the nearby bays, headlands, and crystal clear waters was worth the effort.

Yorketown is surrounded by some two hundred salt lakes hence was the basis for the foundation for a thriving salt industry that eventually came to an end in the 1930’s. Unfortunately for us it was Saturday afternoon and as is typical for most country towns the place was all but deserted with everything except the pubs being shut up tight; I reckon I could have fired a shotgun down the main street with complete safety and not hit a person or any other living thing for that matter.

With our tour of Yorketown completed in near record time, we turned east deciding to spend the night bush camped next the cliffs and adjacent to the Troubridge Point lighthouse, a lighthouse constructed of red brick as opposed to the generally preferred white construction. The camping area at Troubridge Point provides views across Spencer Gulf towards Kangaroo Island plus distant glow of the night lights from Adelaide some eighty kilometres away “as the crow flies” is also visible.

And on a nearby hill not to far away was what would have to be one of the largest “wind farms” in Australia with at least fifty plus wind generators.

After a less than peaceful nights sleep due to the onset of extremely strong winds we packed our bags making our way into nearby Edithburgh via several pretty coves where we soon discovered the reason for the existence of the nearby wind farm; simply this area is one of the windiest regions in South Australia.
Leaving Edithburgh we continued along the coast visiting various towns and other points of interest, some pretty, some not so pretty but all the while as we progressed further north the scenery gradually deteriorating. It was becoming patently obvious that we had seen the best of the Yorke Peninsula so decided to head straight into Adelaide but unfortunately what we hadn’t taken into account was the running of the “Clipsal 500” Grand Prix consequently there was no accommodation available in Adelaide until the following day. We eventually located a van park with a vacancy at Port Wakefield, a backwater of a town that will probably cease to exist in the not to distant future unless there is an influx of business.

With Adelaide a mere one hundred kilometres or so away there was no rush for an early get away as the last thing we wanted to happen was to get tangled up in the morning peak traffic, especially in a city whose road system we had little or no knowledge about. Fortunately my trusty navigator steered us to the Levi Caravan Park located about five kilometres from the Adelaide CBD. After booking in and locating the van on our site, the first thing Leigh did was to unravel the hose and commenced restoring a degree of cleanliness to the vans exterior which by now was covered in mountains of dust, mud, insect, bird droppings, and heavens knows what else. And while Leigh attacked the exterior, I started on the inside as I was equally tired of tasting dust.