Now this was a day…
the fact that so much happened makes me wonder if we were stuck in some kind of
weird space/time continuum loop. I wish it was for a heap of enjoyable reasons,
but really it wasn’t. This day will actually become an important part of our
trip and family bonding for many reasons. It’s not a particularly jovial post,
but I write it with the intention on looking back on it in the years to come
knowing that through optimism, preparation and common sense, something much
worse was avoided.
Awaking in paradise, we were met with a beautifully sunny,
if a little cool morning. The kids exhibited signs of actually being keen to do
some schoolwork, so B and I jumped on it. Returning to our ‘normal’ format, B
took the big kids whilst I packed James into the car and we decided to run back
into town to follow up with Holden. And find as many words with the letter ‘D’
in them…
I’m lead to believe that the schoolwork was a reasonable
success with the big kids because by the time James and I got back, the kids
were smiling, drying off from a trip to the beach where a “sandfight” was had.
James and I had a really good time in town, where we managed
to get quite a few things sorted:
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Rock Truck – The engine light represented a
fault code for the EGR valve. That’s Exhaust Gas Recirculation valve for anyone
mechanically inclined. Nothing too serious and the “local bloke” assured us
that it was fine to drive but get Holden in Albany to sort it out properly once
we get there.
- ·
Laundry – An entertaining trip to the laundromat
where lots of letter D’s were found on the notice board.
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Bunnings – Suffering withdrawal symptoms from
not visiting the Big Green Shed, I had deliberately arranged to meet the “local
bloke” in the carpark to look at the truck so it gave us an excuse to visit.
Ahh… it felt like home.
One of my favourite things to do. Take a picture of my ever changing backyard.
Skippy paying a visit. He's lucky he didn't end up on the menu....
Sigh...."Insert heart emoticon"
So we made it back to the LB Campground around lunchtime to
find the aforementioned smiles.
And so it was decided we’d go for bushwalk. Which was
essentially the decision that would provide the family and probably anyone
reading this blog, with quite the interesting tale to tell for quite some time.
Since that walk I’ve been trying to decide how to put down
an accurate retelling of events down because it’s not my proudest moment.
Looking back on it, we joke and hang it on Dad about it but quite frankly, it
was something that could have ended much worse than it actually did.
But I came to the realisation that nothing is better than
the truth, and that within the truth lies now an entertaining tale and a bucket
load of lessons that can be taken from the events. So here goes….
The five of us took off from the LB Campground with our
little backpacks to explore the rocks in and around LB and then also between
there and neighbouring Thistle Cove. As we ventured further along the coast on
the marked trail, the landscapes developed in front of us from the beach of LB
to steep and sloped granite escarpments crashing into the water. Lizards and
skinks darted around us, but thankfully none of their larger legless cousins
were spotted. At around 2.30pm, B and I had a quick chat about how far in we’d
walk, knowing we’d have to back track our steps. We decided that B and the big
kids would keep going on the full walk through to Hellfire Bay, 3hrs of ‘hard
walking’ from LB. Being 30min in, we figured 2.5hrs for our little mountain
goats should be fine. James and I would then head back along the benign track
to camp, get the car and icypoles and meet them in the carpark of Hellfire and
bring everyone back together. I’d expect them at 5pm and we joked we’d send out
search parties at 5.30pm. Prophetic words….
Granite literally running into the water...
A long cast... but an ever impressive lanscape...
Tooled up and ready to roll...
Nothing... absolutely nothing stops our Little Caboose. Don't tell him he can't do something. Red rag to a bull...
No problems.
So off we went, separate ways.
James and I cruised back to camp, where we got a few
comments from others about the missing 3, which we then told them of our plans.
We kicked around camp before getting bored and decided to jump in the car and
head to Hellfire and wait for the guys.
James and I pulled into the carpark and went exploring the
surrounds. Whistling Rock was awesome and we had a great time chatting and
discussing life. James is quite the entertaining little fella when you take
away the distractions of his older siblings. Highly inquisitive and
refreshingly youthful in his honesty, I always enjoy hanging out with him.
James and I kicking some rocks while we waited...
The tallest James has ever been... Shadow play...
James was a little bored waiting so he said "Dad, this rock looks like a bed!" So I challenged his to lie down on it and see it if was comfortable. "Yeah... could easily sleep here Dad" was the reply... Sure mate. Sure.
So we were sitting on a rock overlooking the beach. I was
constantly watching the range behind us as walkers came over it and down to the
carpark. No sign of the our three. Hmm…
Even at 4.30pm I was feeling that something wasn’t right. The sun was
also getting close to the ranges to the west behind us. I got a message from B
who manage to fluke reception that she wasn’t far, and was “at the top of the
hill and kids doing great”.
I said to James that perhaps the others were getting tired
and we’d go and meet them at the top of the range above the carpark with the
torches in case it got a little dark. So we grabbed out drink bottles and
headed up the track at around 5pm.
An Epic view...
Up the top of that mountain there was no sign of them. It
was now around 5.30pm and I realised I was about to be on top of a mountain
with a 5-year-old in the dark. So we headed down to the car, now getting
quietly concerned about where the others were.
Back down in the car park I fed a hungry James with 3
starburst lollies which “filled him up” and gave him “a heap more energy”
apparently. Still nothing… Now actually dark, I was getting really worried. At
6pm my phone pinged with “Can see Hellfire Bay” to which I replied “Torch?”.
Little did I know, that B actually sent that at 5pm with the other messages.
Another message came through with “Can you see us?” which I obviously couldn’t.
I mean, they had no lights other than B’s phone torch.
I had by now moved the Rock Truck so it’s high beam
spotlights were lighting up the hillside track down into the carpark. I was
really confused and worried. I decided that they must be there and somewhere
and just a little lost.
So I, somewhat foolishly decided that we’d head back up the
track to see if they were close. We trudged off with our torches, with James
providing many excellent moments of levity such as “it must be nearly midnight
now” and “it’s so late, and I haven’t even had dinner yet”. Not once did he
show signs of flagging or burden. I think, like most kids, he knew things were
getting serious and through tone in adult voices which were devoid of humour
and fun. He was nothing short of excellent. Upon returning to our spot up the
hill, and still no signs of the other three, I realised now was the time to
escalate things a little more and call in the cavalry. It was now 6.45pm.
So up on the hill, where I had reception, I rechecked the
message stream and got all info and timelines so I could relay them to
authorities accordingly.
I should point out that it wasn’t freezing or tipping with
rain, and should they be lost in the scrub or somewhere with a broken leg, I
never felt it was “life or death” thanks to B’s messages.
So rechecking the message trail I found another new message
with “We are in Hellfire Bay. Where are you????”. So now I was confused.
Thankfully due to the reception at the top of the hill, I could double check
the map.
Now the shrewd readers, or perhaps those lucky enough to
visit Cape Le Grande NP before, might have picked up a two very key facts in my
story-telling above
- I didn’t mention pulling into Hellfire Bay carpark specifically.
- Whistling Rock isn’t actually at Hellfire Bay
Yes, atop a random hill, in the darkness, with my five-year-old
nearly 2 hours after I said I’d be at the meeting point, I realised that I had
pulled into Thistle Cove carpark instead of Hellfire Bay carpark. It was then I was met with a huge
amount of guilt and relief all at once.
I felt so guilty that I was getting frustrated with B not
getting where we agreed, and that it was me that had completely ballsed it up.
I felt guilty that I now had my wife and two older kids stranded at a random
carpark wondering where in the hell I was. And I felt immensely guilty and
incredibly stupid for bringing James up the hill to look for them, putting him
a risk in the darkness.
But I also felt a wave of relief. It now all made sense. And
knowing B and her incredibly worldly common sense and rational state of mind
during moments like this, that the kids would be safe and reassured.
So James and I carefully descended down the mountain and
made our way back to the car safely. On the drive around to the right car park,
James commented that he “didn’t think the Rock Truck could go fast” and I
realised that I was in fact speeding. I thanked him and told him he was right
and I slowed down accordingly. Another beautifully timed piece of child
honesty.
Upon coming into Hellfire Bay carpark around 7.15pm I saw B
emerge from the steps down to the picnic and BBQ area with relief on her face
like I can’t recall seeing. I think she’d been doing some emotional heavy
lifting with the kids. The two then came up out of the darkness and we all
hugged and kissed with the relief that comes with knowledge that the worst of
which we were expecting was nothing more than a case of “wrong place, wrong
time”.
On the way back home and over a quick impromptu dinner of tomato
soup and bread, I learnt that the others did come into Hellfire Bay around
5.30pm, worried that we were going to send up the search parties! After an hour
of nothing B had them working out where they’d sleep in the picnic shelter and
using the BBQ’s for warmth if needed. However every time one of them spoke of
concern or fear it was a subconscious little slap to the pride and a feeling of
failing as Dad and husband.
But they all were here, all safe and all sound. And when
Evie joked that “this bed is way comfier than the picnic bench” I felt that at
least we could all take some very valuable lessons from this. Lessons that will
hopefully keep us safe, not just on our Big Trip, but also for the years to
come. And hopefully by putting these lessons down here in the blog, that it
might also help some others along the way:
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Know your
timelines and available daylight hours prior to setting off – Here in WA it
gets darker much earlier than we are used to in Victoria, particularly throwing
in the end of daylight savings in VIC/SA over the last few weeks. The decision
to go split up and taking on such a serious walk post 2pm was probably a
mistake in hindsight and probably put too much pressure on B and the kids to
‘finish’ rather than ‘enjoy’.
- ·
Water – One
thing we are never without on any walks is water. I’m a real PIA about it.
We’ve bought each of the kids a “camel-back” to save them carrying drink
bottles and B has a big 3L bladder in her bushwalking backpack. They are always
full. Non-negotiable. This gave me the reassurance than in the mild conditions,
the guys certainly had enough water on them should they be stuck somewhere.
- ·
Food – Due
to the impromptu nature of the walk, this is something we were a little light
on. Normally stocked with biscuits and fruit, B’s magic bag of food was running
low by the time we got to them. Muesli bars, snacks, nuts and fruit make good
energy foods that can stem the hunger pain
- ·
First Aid
– Another one we don’t leave home without out. One in the car and one in
the backpack. Thankfully not required, but once again, I felt much better
knowing B had it with her.
- ·
Light – Something
we didn’t have in the backpack, but now has been added has been a small cheap
torch/headlamp. Something. Anything. Even if you are expecting to be back at
midday, if you get stuck, light brings reassurance, safety, guidance and a
beacon all in one. Also, very handy in finding the walking posts with
reflectors on them in the dark. James and I might have been in strife had he
and I not have brought our torches and packs.
- ·
Tell
people – We had told the camp hosts we were off exploring the rocks and
walk, and I had mentioned to some random nomads of our plans for James and I to
pick the others up. I’m confident that should either/both of us got into
strife, at least the cavalry would have some starting points.
- ·
Communication
– One thing I think we did well, and always have to be honest, is to give
timelines on where and when we should be finishing. We knew reception would be
poor if non-existant. Don’t forget we too grew up in a generation without
mobile phones so still think about plans and back up plans. We agreed a
starting and end point, timelines and made sure we were both across them. I
simply screwed up going to the wrong spot.
- ·
Sensible
shoes – No thongs or sandals on our proper walks. Without good shoes, these
walks are like slicks on racing car in the wet. Dangerous and asking for
trouble.
- ·
Stay put
– Big lesson here. When B got to Hellfire to find an empty carpark, the
kids asked about where they’d go next. “Nowhere. We’re expected to be here” was
the response. They were where we’d agreed to be and were safe and sheltered.
Nowhere nearby was going to be better. And sure enough, when we were finally
where we were supposed to be, James and I found them safe and waiting. So when
in trouble, more times than not, it’s more sensible to stay put.
- ·
Keep calm
and keep a clear head – this is the big one for me, and the one that has
taken a few days to process and get through. Those who know me from work know
my past role of Chief Warden and current role as Incident Controller and would
hopefully say that in times of crisis I keep a reasonably clear and calm head
when things are turning to pot around me. It’s one of the things I pride myself
on. But this experience has taught me the impact and hindrance on emotional
investment in a crisis. My concern for the other 3 made me make a somewhat
dubious call by taking James back up the mountain in the dark. In hindsight, I
believe that to be a mistake, and one I still quite uncomfortable about. First
rule of any emergency is not to put yourself or anyone else in further danger. If
I had been a bit calmer, I would have realised sooner I was in the wrong spot
and most of the heartache and concern could have been avoided. Thankfully I’ve
learnt this lesson with little consequence and one I shall always consider more
strongly in the future.
And so it ended a very very interesting day. I’m learning
this adventure will bring far more than just amazing beaches, time with the
kids and a whole new part of the world. It will bring you a big dose of reality
if you take it all for granted and can be taken away just as quickly.
This became even more relevant in a couple of days on
Frenchmans Peak.
