Jon experiences the beauty and the fury of this stunning region

The beauty of BREMER BAY

By Jon Love

A few hundred kilometres from home it was just another day in paradise, and as we crested the sand dunes on our way to camp, not even the grey clouds encroaching on the horizon could dampen our spirits, but perhaps the 20mm of rain forecast for the following day might!

Nestled into our paradise campsite with the tall dunes of vegetation towering over us.

Fishing from the granite rocks overlooking the bay.

Our entry into campsite number one guided us through a descending track surrounded by densely green bushland, and as you pull out onto the beach you’re presented with the unique landscape of the Bremer Bay region. With the glistening of the sun off the water to one side and the incredibly steep wall of bushland on the other, the area creates a truly picturesque sight to take in. As it was my first time in this region, on many occasions I would sit staring at the elegance of the surrounding environment. It wasn’t long before our convoy was cruising up the beach, exploring everything the small bay had to offer. As you head up along the waterline a small reef shelf stretches out across the water, displaying a beautiful contrast of rolling white foam mixed with the bright blue and dark yellow of the limestone. As you approach the tip of the beach you become hugged up against the granite rocks that sprawl out into the bay, but unequivocally the most unique feature was the sight of the small freshwater creek that flows down the steep wave of the hill, through the trees and onto the beach below. With the sound of the swell gently crashing against the shore and

the trickle from the stream running through, this made for the perfect campsite. It wasn’t long before we had the beds set up and the barbeque out ready for a few snags and chops to fill the grill. With the red ball in the sky making its way under the horizon and the last of the light disappearing for the day, the sizzle of chops on the grill filled the campsite as we sat back and looked forward to the adventure to come. Day two started off with an early coffee overlooking the bay from the rooftop tent, a cool breeze whipping off the surface of the water to make for a snug viewing of the landscape around us. Fortunately the clouds had backed off and the sun was once again making an appearance, underscoring the beauty of the bay. With rain expected and an overwhelming eagerness to explore what else lay around the corner, we took off exploring on foot, leaping between boulders and carefully edging down rock faces to peer into the clear blue water below. Naturally a few fishing rods tagged along for the ride, perching up on a granite rock that provided a neat spot to fish from, all the while showcasing the bay and its many gems. A few herring made for a good bit of competition between the group of us, seeing who could pull in the biggest catch, but in true fashion we were left with our hands in our pockets for the most part! Unfortunately time came to stop feeding the local sea dwelling population with poorly hooked bait and to pack up the gear, getting prepped for the day ahead. It’s always disappointing leaving such a unique campsite, but with a couple more days ahead of us and finding a gem on day one, future prospects were looking promising. It wasn’t long before we ascended our way over the hill that overlooked the bay, weaving through bushland and following the tracks that laid ahead of us, following the coastline and the cliffs that sat over it. We ended up perching on top of a hill to watch a pod of thirty or more dolphins swimming around a bay not too far away. As I was prepping to throw up the drone the unmistakable sound of liquid pooling under the Troopy echoed in my ear. Hoping

Looking off into the distance with the end of Reef Beach in sight. As you could imagine from its name, Reef Beach is littered with reef shelves like this one.

it was something minor I crouched down to see where it was coming from, and much to my dismay it turned out to be diesel streaming from one of the tanks. Not exactly the most reassuring sight to see. After some investigating and an attempt to stem the flow of fuel coming out, none of the attempts came to fruit as the leak was tucked too far behind other components of the body. With the leak fluctuating between a slow drip and a steady pour, we opted to head back into town to see if we could get it looked at. As it turned out the route to town was still an adventure in itself, coasting over beaches and navigating our way over rocky outcrops that lay scattered across the beaches. In no time we were back on the black top and rolling through town. Strangely enough, after multiple inspections of the underbody, the leak had completely stopped, and to this day has never reemerged. Feeling confident the issue was at bay, we opted to pay a visit to the local Bremer Bay Brewery, enjoy a pint and then hightail it again for the next destination. Back off the beaten track, the weather looked like it was finally about to turn the tide. The grey clouds began to roll back in and a cool breeze was kicking into action. In character with the region, we were once again cruising on top of a large hill with the ocean occasionally peeking through the tree line. The track that wound down the hill and allowed you to access the beach below proved to be a fun, slow drive, taking you through dense bush while throwing in steep, undulating drops that needed to be carefully negotiated. All the while glimpses of the coast would appear and

Taking a moment to appreciate the view on our dash back to town. Peaking the hill overlooking Reef Beach and getting a glimpse of things to come.

then disappear as you weaved and bobbed your way over the terrain. The end of the descent is marked as you drive out into the clearing with sand dunes surrounding you, guiding you to a clearing that’ll place you on the doorstep of the coast. However it wasn’t all sunshine and rainbows (quite literally). As we came up to the passage heading to the beach another car in the convoy radioed in with an issue. Having pulled up to assess the situation, it seemed that the steep descent and the uneven terrain caused the rear right-hand spring to pop off the axle. Whipping out the tools and wedging the Maxtrax under the car for support, we tinkered away to get the issue sorted, not the easiest task given the weight of the car and the softness of the sand. Misfortune was narrowly avoided as the bottle jack collapsed under the car, causing it to violently drop with heads working away underneath it. Fortunately a quick response saved those working below it, with the tyre wedged between the car and the sand prevented it from going any further, underscoring the importance of placing it between the chassis and the ground for additional protection. Before long the spring was back in place and the convoy made tracks into the first section of Reef Beach. Eager to pull up for the day and establish our second campsite, we scouted locations with the best protection from the oncoming storm. A crevasse cutting its way into the limestone ended up being our home for the night, with ample shelter from the wind and a first-class view of the storm rolling toward us. Some tucker was enjoyed briefly around the campfire, but the night was quickly retired as the first drops of rain began to fall. A clear morning and blue skies welcomed us into day three, and with plenty of exploring around Reef Beach on the cards, we didn’t hang around camp too long. A quick coffee was complemented with the

Some dune-side mechanics to get the rear spring back on the axle.

Night two in the shelter of the crevasse stretching back into the dunes.

view of the rolling swell breaking over the distant reefs, one of which drew particular interest to us. As the engines turned over, the convoy moved its way over to the eastern-most point of the beach, where a small oasis opens up, presenting a calm and cosy corner of the beach. Perhaps a hundred metre stretch of beach and shallow reef sat adjacent to each other, providing a sanctuary of peaceful crystalclear water shimmering in the sunlight. Pressed up against a steep granite rock ledge, this allowed you to walk out further into the bay, peering through the water with bommies scattered across the seabed. With high tide already set in and a number of sharp rocky outcrops between the beach and the cove, the cars were parked up against the dunes and we set off on foot to enjoy what the little oasis had to offer, and with no other soul in sight, it was our own slice of heaven. The opportunity to snorkel in the cove was swiftly taken up, and we ventured into the depths, exploring the reef shelf and the abundance of fish life that accompanied it. A rod was thrown out at one point but to no avail. Climbing the rock ledge that cosied up against the water provided an insight into the expanse of the dune systems that lay ahead of us, as well as the clarity of the water below and the occasional fish breaking the surface. Time came again to head back to the cars and press on with the journey, with a fair bit of distance to cover and an eagerness to venture into the dune systems ahead. Traversing Reef Beach made for an incredibly peaceful drive, with firm sand, ocean as far as the eye could see to one side and mountainous sand dunes to the other. There was certainly plenty to capture your eye, and capture our eye it did. A steep incline led us to a lookout that displayed the expanse of dune systems running against the coast, creating a jawdropping view. Behind the dune continued its steep ascent, and taking full advantage of this, the boogie board was tossed from the roof and I drew the short straw to be the test dummy. What seemed like an eternity of climbing and a punishment for a lack of exercise, I finally clambered to the peak, taking a seat to enjoy the view from the top, but more importantly sucking in air and letting the lactic acid in my calves settle down. With the board positioned on the steepest section of the dune, and hope as my strategy, I pushed off and, much to my surprise, sped off down the face. Narrowly avoiding being ragdolled down the slope,

Just enjoying the serenity on the open beach plains.

I managed to keep the nose forward and slipped my way back to the cars. Needless to say we spent a fair bit of time taking turns to rocket down the slope, but eventually we ran out of breath, so we pressed on. Our path now led us off the beach front and along some bright green vegetation, tracking along a cliff with the view of a thunderous swell crashing against the limestone walls. Once again the weather had turned sour on us, with the wind and rain beginning to make its appearance once again for the day. Eventually after negotiating a number of steep, rutted descents we pulled up with the next leg of the beach dash in sight. Sitting tall on a cliff overlooking Pallinup Beach, perched on its eastern-most edge, we peered out over the bay to assess if we could make it through. Conditions at this point were starting to deteriorate, with the storm well and truly in place, sending large swell rolling up the already limited room on the beach. Rubbing salt in the wound, the tide was coming back up to its second high of the day, which we estimated would give us an hour to make it to the other side. With no quick exits easily visible on the maps or as the eye could see, we figured that if something went south on the crossing, it would quickly chew away our time as the tide creeps slowly up the beach. Not only this, but the only entry onto the beach would be via a dodgy limestone and boulder hopping operation. Something that in the dry could be achievable, but with the rain not going anywhere and the occasional wave sweeping between the rocks, it would only cost precious and limited time. In the end we decided the risk didn’t outweigh the reward, and with no desire of adding a few submarines to the convoy, we opted to double back and seek refuge in the dunes for the final night of the trip. Less than an hour later and we were back on Reef Beach, wedged between two mini dunes that offered ample protection from the wind, at least for the time being. We got settled in easily enough, popping open the roof top tent, rolling out the awnings and setting up the barbeque. With a fair bit of driving behind us and an opportunity to relax, we cracked a couple of tins and broke out the bocce balls, enjoying the serenity; but in the end it was all short lived.

Spanner in the works. Perched up overlooking the Pallinup Beach run and the rising tide. Our camp for the final night, not long before the mayhem of the upcoming sandstorm.

With no warning the occasional gust turned into a gale force wind, whipping up sand and violently pelting it against anything that obstructed its path. Caught off guard we put our heads down and made for camp. Within seconds the pegged down awnings were flapping around, poles waving in the air like an inflated ‘tube man’ out the front of a store. One of the more unfortunate realisations I had was that some windows in my tent were open, and I soon found a layer of sand covering the doona, much like everything else. We ended up taking refuge behind one of the collapsed awnings, although not completely safe from the developing sandstorm on the other side. All up this lasted about half an hour, then it ended as quickly as it started. We emerged from car doors and stricken tarp to assess the damage done, and what a mess it was. Equipment laid buried under several inches of sand, awnings were left tangled, yet amazingly didn’t break, and even the insides of the cars were all covered in

Campsite carnage. Emerging from behind the awnings to a mess of buried gear and toppled equipment. sand. To this day, several months after the trip, sand continues to blow out of my fan vents when turned on. Despite the mess and despite the chaos, it didn’t dampen our spirits, and once things had calmed down we were back out throwing the bocce balls, with dinner pre-heating on the fire and a bright yellow and red glow casting across the horizon. There wasn’t much to be disheartened about. With the final pack-up complete the next day, we were about ready to set off for the journey home, but not before completing one more task. The previous day while transiting between Pallinup and The calm after the storm, with a cracker of a sunset over the horizon.

Reef Beach, we came across a dense pile of rubbish and waste that had been dumped and left to stain the ground around it, which in itself was something to be disheartened about. We’re incredibly lucky to have these beautifully pristine and unique locations just on our doorstep, so whenever we come across dump sites like this one, it’s always an upsetting and frustrating sensation to feel. Fortunately for us, and utilising some of the junk that was left behind, we managed to pull together a few bags and storage items to collect and remove as much as we could. We ended up clearing a fair bit of rubbish and glass from the area, but unfortunately with no more room remaining, we had to leave the rest. With the rubbish loaded up and the cars packed ready to go, we made our way back inland, back onto the black top and back home.