<< Back to Adventure

The Caravan & Motorhome crew are tackling the Nullarbor for their first ever DVD. Here’s the yarn to go with the first leg – Adelaide to Ceduna via Port Lincoln.

Words by John Rooth
Photography by Robb Cox

For months now we’ve been looking forward to and planning – ok, so Editor Gil’s been planning and we’ve been looking forward to – the first ever Caravan & Motorhome DVD trip. The intention from the start was to present a caravanning adventure in film for our subscribers while at the same time gathering plenty of material for a series of magazine articles too.

It was a tall order from day one, both logistically and from the time frame point of view. There’s no such thing as a ‘short trip’ in this magnificent country of ours, all the best ones involve plenty of big miles. In fact that’s what makes Australia such a special place – it’s bloody huge!

So naturally we figured Gil would take it easy on us first time around. You know, Brisbane to the Gold Coast perhaps – that’d be a thriller with Movie World thrown in. Or possibly ‘Crossing the Blue Mountains’ with all it’s historical implications or maybe Melbourne to the Island – Phillip Island that is.

But no, not our Gil.

“Roothy,” he sounded excited – I was worried – “how about we do the Nullarbor? And none of your short cut stuff, we’ll do it via the Eyre Peninsula and Albany and the south west coast too! What d’ya reckon mate?”

“Sounds great Gil, how long did you say we had to do it?”

“Nine days mate, maybe 10. But I’ve looked at the map and I reckon she’ll be sweet, as long as we’re not mucking around anyway.”

Yep, I had to agree. Given the time needed to film the DVD and photograph the trip we could just squeeze it all in to nine days as long as there wasn’t any mucking around. That’s if you define ‘mucking around’ as sleeping, eating and showering…

So make no mistake, we’re not recommending you attempt to do a trip like this unless you’re running late for one of the kid’s weddings or something. Time constraints like this aren’t a normal part of caravanning because for most of us, our time away in the van is all about relaxation! One of the greatest joys of vanning should be the ability to dally wherever you travel, taking a day or two here or there because it’s too nice to leave, or a big detour to see something special.

There were plenty of surprises in store for us during our trip, but allow me to let you in on a little secret right now. We might have blasted our way across the country because of the time restrictions, but guess what – we had, and I’m speaking for all of us here I’m sure – one of the best and most memorable adventures anyone could ever have. A month later, sitting in my office in Brisbane and belting away at the keyboard, I’m still getting those little flashes of stuff we saw and did that colour an otherwise humdrum day. In a mere nine days we experienced so much of this incredible country, felt so many things and stayed in stacks of wild and wonderful places that have influenced us all for ever. And that folks, is what life on the road is all about!

The trip was co-sponsored by Australia’s biggest volume caravan manufacturer – Jayco – and car company, Subaru. Jayco provided an Outback camper, a Freedom pop top caravan and one of their new campervans – an outfitted Fiat Ducato turbo diesel van. We towed the camper and the pop top with two of Subaru’s great new 3L Outback wagons plus another one to cart our camera crew.

Ah, the crew! I’d better introduce them right now eh? First and definitely foremost, Gil Schott, Editor of Caravan & Motorhome, salt water fisherman extraordinaire, an ex-army bloke who’s travelled the country from length to breadth and has more cumulative experience in a vast array of fields than virtually anyone else I know in the publishing game. All that and he’s one of the most down to earth Aussies you’ll ever meet. Gil organised the trip and led from the front virtually all the way.

With Gil came Robb Cox, the in-house shutter man from Express Publications. He’s an ex-pro league player who got his start in photography by shooting sports events from the footy to the Olympics and plenty of car rallies in between. Robb chose to work with us after getting married and needing to settle down from the hectic pace of a life lived from a suitcase. No worries, we’ll just chuck him on a van trip across the Nullarbor instead eh? I won’t say too much about Robb because I don’t have too – his photography speaks for itself!

Also on cameras, but the heavier moving picture kind was a long time mate of mine, Peter Watts from Melbourne. Pete, who’s usually off shooting docos for the ABC, has a passion for travel and the eye of someone who loves every facet of our country. But you’ll see that when you get your copy of the DVD. What you won’t see is Peter’s ability to turn up with a fine bottle of chardonnay in the most unlikely places!

Our film editor is Victor Trofimov – another Victorian. Apart from an unnatural connection to his beloved Aussie Rules, possibly developed during a long career editing news and current events in Melbourne which usually centres around the AFL anyway, Vic’s love of life and attention to detail when it comes to the filming of same was evident every day. Vic’s a driver too – luckily – because we had plenty of that to do! And by the end of the trip we had some trouble shoehorning him out of his beloved Ducato!

Taking the Fiat line a tad too far, Victor was having a little affair with Jayco’s motorhome right across the Nullarbor. In a crappy Italian accent Vic warbled on about his ‘deeliciousomo Sophia, who handles so bewdifully when I caress her wheel’. Honest, it only took us a couple of days to work out what he was on about!

Last, but definitely not least, Subaru sent along their press technician Adam Thomas as an extra driver and to further evaluate the Subaru’s performance in the real world of towing. Adam, one of the nicest and most competent young blokes you could ever meet, was an absolute boon throughout our trip. Always smiling, deadly honest, knowing his stuff thoroughly and willing to press on no matter how long the day, Adam proved to be a brilliant representative for a brilliant vehicle.

Then there’s me - Roothy. You would’ve seen me in the mag here and there, Project Vicki, Old Dog and a few other things. I’ll be your guide on this adventure across the Nullarbor.

We’ll look more closely at the Subaru Outbacks in a later issue but in case you’re wondering, the all wheel drive 3L flat six proved absolutely superb in both roles – as a medium weight towing vehicle and a camera car too.

I had my doubts about that before we set off. I mean, for a trip this long and with both vans weighing a tonne and a third dry, I’d have opted for something from the usual arsenal of big 4WD heavy duty tow vehicles. The trip proved that premise entirely wrong – if a vehicle has the right combination of power and traction, and the Subarus definitely have plenty of both, then more size is just an inconvenience if anything. And boy, the comfort level is unreal!

We flew into Adelaide, picked up the cars and the Jaycos, did a quick shopping trip and left town that same afternoon. Our destination for day one was Whyalla, nearly 400km away. Thankfully there’s little to photograph to the north of Adelaide so we made double quick time and lobbed into the Foreshore Caravan Park just before dark.

Wow, it was only day one, yet all the pent up steam of flying from capital to capital, the angst of preparation and the need to make a quick mile were blown clean away by our first taste of caravanning out here. The Foreshore Park, sitting right on the waters of the Spencer Gulf, saw us set up camp in the front row with one of the best views in the world. To the east we could see the marina and the yacht club, to the west we could see the sun sinking into the sea. It was a place to savour.

The crank handles flew as Gil handed out our end of day beers and suddenly the realisation that we were on our way, the adventure had begun and we were free to enjoy it sank in as quickly as that cold VB.

Somehow, I’d been elected cook for the trip! And all because I narrowly avoided poisoning a few shearing teams many years ago. Ah well, when in doubt, trot it out, although this might not be the appropriate place to mention the trots…

Next morning we doubled back to film ‘The Whyalla’, that impressive land bound ship that’s the first sight for most eastern visitors as they approach the town. A symbol of both the steelworks the town was built around and the effort and industry of the local population, The Whyalla was the first of four corvettes built in Whyalla during the Second World War. The HMAS Whyalla initially served on the east coast – in fact, she was in Sydney harbour the night the Japanese mini subs attacked – before heading north for minesweeping duties in New Guinea. After a major refit in 1943 the ship spent the rest of the war on convoy and anti-submarine patrol, steaming over 111,000 miles of wartime service.

In 1984, after spending nearly 40 years of blasting duties clearing dangerous rips for the Victorian Public Works Department, she was sold back to the Whyalla council for $5000. Eventually it was pulled from the sea up the same slipway that’d given birth to it and settled where it stands now. It’s an awesome sight and a tour of the mostly restored to original ship is an absolute must.

Mind you, all Gil had to say was that they must have some mighty big fish out in that gulf to need fishin’ boats this big…

Whyalla itself is a beautiful place combining the best of the outback with a coastal outlook. It’s sunny nearly all year round but sea breezes and the low humidity give it one of the world’s best climates. Most people think ‘Whyalla, steel, industry’ and yes, it’s got the only steel works tour available in Australia. But as a holiday destination, it’s a place to relax with a no hassles atmosphere, no traffic jams and plenty of outdoor pursuits and facilities from bush walking to golf, Whyalla has ‘got the space to do your own thing’.

But our thing was leaving so after a spectacular sunrise over the Spencer Gulf we hitched up and drove south down the Lincoln Highway. Gil then had to fly back to Sydney for a couple of days, so unfortunately, he missed out on our next bit of fun.

After a short turn off the highway, we had lunch at Tumby Bay. What a beautiful little place this is with its long esplanade and park fronting an emerald green sea. There was a caravan park at one end too, but on a schedule like ours there wasn’t time to stay the night. Like so many other great places passed through I’m going to book that one up for my retirement – for a month!

Before long we were cruising on the edge of the mountains with the coast on our left and Port Lincoln coming up fast. A caravan park before town looked ok but we were looking for something special to get some more footage for the DVD. After passing Axel Stenross’s Maritime Museum – where I would have loved a day or two playing timber boats – we fueled up at a garage in town and asked about places to stay.

We were told to try the Kirton Point Caravan Park, east over the hill from the centre of town on the edge of Porter Bay. It was a beauty too, grassy sites terraced up the hillside and a superb view across the Gulf.

Next morning, waking as the sun blew up the horizon in a shower of gold, I got in an early walk from the park around the headland to the centre of town. The track hugs the coast from the south of Porters Bay to several kilometres north of town and is one of the many things that make Port Lincoln a very special place to visit. But gee, even after an hour’s pounding the pavement I still hadn’t lost any weight at all…

After the colour and heritage of Port Lincoln the trek north-west up the peninsula on the Lincoln Highway seemed almost barren and flat by comparison. About 30km out of town, noting the figures on the fuel consumption/distance computer in the Subaru as we passed the turn off to Coffin Bay, I hopped on the handheld and dialled up channel 18 as a couple of big touring vans passed the other way.

“G’day, any fuel stops before Elliston going this way?”

“Hello yourself – not a one. Nothing but road, you didn’t want to hear that did you?”

Not really. Reading 160km of range and with at least 130km to Elliston I asked Adam over the radio how accurate these computers were.

“Spot on,” he said, “but they’re computing based on averages which includes those hills and the shooting we did around town. Here on the flats the average should climb. I reckon we’ll be right but it’s your call.”

He was right. The average climbed, the range extended and we made it into the road house at Elliston with fuel to spare.

Over breakfast and maps that morning we’d planned to drive hard up the west coast of the Eyre to get to Streaky Bay which someone had said was the prettiest place on the Peninsula. No detours, no mucking around, just a bit of road footage to show how this piece of highway as it is – which is damned good by the way. North of Elliston the map showed some big blue lakes alongside the road too, so no doubt that’d be the place to spend some time.

But Elliston was beautiful. Wild, wind blown and with the freshest blue green sea in the world, it turned out to be the biggest surprise so far. At the roadhouse, still following the no detours plan, a couple of locals told me about the cliff top drive to the north of town.

“Guys, you know how we’re not stopping until Streaky Bay? Well, err, there’s a little road we have to try first.”

Brilliant, absolutely brilliant. The ‘tourist drive’, a dirt track along the cliff faces dotted with huge sculptures and the most magnificent views, rates with my top three highlights of the whole trip. Here we saw ‘clogs’, the fossilised limestone cocoons of 100,000 year old weevils, and caught glimpses of the brilliant surf beaches of Anxious Bay. The inlets to the south are a haven for swimming and sailing and the fishing – judging by the boats we saw plying a living off the coast – is extraordinary.

Having dallied longer than the schedule permitted we left the cliffs of Elliston and drove north. The big blue lakes on the map turned out to be salt pans and the old stone ruins along the way suggested the hardships of good farming land prone to drought. We stopped at the little white stone cottage that used to be ‘The Lake Hamilton Eating House’ for a photo op that couldn’t be missed.

Built in the 1850s it was used as a stopping place for coaches and travellers passing through this sparse region until the 1880s. The Caledonian Society restored the building – twice, first in 1972 and again in 1995 – so it can stand as ‘a reminder of a forgotten age’ as the sign outside says. With the thick stone walls and chunky paved floor it proved to be amazingly cool and quiet inside despite the low roof and tiny rooms.

Pressing on because we were running well behind schedule now we couldn’t resist having lunch in a paddock behind yet another little bush cemetery. ‘Loving Memories’ of a child aged one day, families buried close both in time and place, the harshness of life in the Aussie bush was revealed once again. But as remote as this area once was, it’s impossible not to feel the camaraderie of small communities battling the isolation together. And, no matter how dry the country is, the crystal clear sea continually pounded the coast.

Having managed to dilly dally all day it was late in the afternoon as we passed the turn to Streaky Bay. A decision had to be made, and although there could’ve been some lovely country close by, the places we’d filmed during the day dictated we had more than enough to fulfil our needs. I doubt it’s ever possible to get enough of such a wonderful place but film wise we knew we had the goods – Elliston alone would’ve given us that. I made the decision to push on to Ceduna for the night.

Coming in to town we saw the Airport Caravan Park on our left and noted it was almost empty. Big grassy sites, a huge new amenities block and no customers. Something must be wrong, every second vehicle we’d seen all day had been towing a van. The lads pulled over and Vic and I took the Ducato to town. There were a couple of parks along the water but they were packed and busy. By the time we got back to the Airport, we’d decided to give it a go. It was great as it turned out!

Next morning, over an early breakfast, we got another surprise when my mobile rang. It was Gil, he was at the Ceduna airport, he’d flown back from Sydney.

“So where are you? Did you make it to Ceduna? Where’d you camp the night?”

“Just walk around the building Gil. See those vans?” I waved across the paddock. “That’s us mate. You had breakky yet?”

Things were looking good! Next month we’ll look at what’s supposed to be one of the most boring trips on earth – crossing the Nullarbor Plains.

Guess what? It wasn’t, it was bloody marvellous!

Same time, same place. See you here.

Page 1 - 2 - 3