7^th August: Port Samson

Today I saw a place that I have long wanted to see – Millstream National Park. It used to be a huge sheep property, carrying up to 55,000 sheep at times. After a number of others, it was owned by the Gordons from 1934 to 1965 before it became a tavern and was then bought out by the government to preserve the Millstream aquifer. This aquifer runs sweet fresh water constantly and provides by pipe the waterfor the coastal towns now. The homestead is an oasis in a barren country. A typical station homestead of the early 1900's, it is built of plastered stone walls, 4 bedrooms and a central dining room with a kitchen building unattached out the back, and of course a wide overhang all the way around. A grand old house. 

But it is the setting that is remarkable – beside Millstream River. (So called because the explorer Gregory wrote that it ran enough water to run a water mill.) A local palm grew prolifically but has been over taken by the introduced date palm which has altered the ecosystem because it doesn't let the sunlight shine through to allow the understorey plants to grow. Damage was done during the January cyclone and the rangers are clearing that and selectively removing more date palms in an effort to rehabilitate the area. But the waterway is lovely. Waterlillies have been planted in the 1930's and the water is so clear that it is possible to see the many tiered forest of plants growing in the long ponds. This was a children's paradise, with paths among the trees to explore, swimming and bomb diving as well as boating in the stream – all described by a twelve year son of the house who grew up to own and run the property. It is a lovely place and I am so glad I was able to see it.

Great infrastructure in this NP. But very few people which was nice for us but in many ways a pity. I think Millstream- Chichester NP is a well-kept secret and is overshadowed by near-by big brother Karijini. It is like Karijini used to be – a quiet, special place.

We checked out the Cliff Look-out over the Fortescue River: a very long and wide reach of the river with luxuriant vegetation close to the edge – a stark contrast to the surrounding dry, barren and rugged countryside. A lone pelican sat on a branch near an egret. (Small, Intermediate or Large?? Too far away to tell!)

 Then we had lunch at Deep Reach, another deep wide section of the river, on which, it is advertised, one can sailboard! Here there were dozens, even hundreds, of squabbling corellas. Another wonderful place with great infrastructure. Sailcloth shaded picnic tables, a free gas bbq, wide steps into the water for swimming and good toilet facilities. We enjoyed it – by ourselves.

What is amazing about the Fortescue River is that, while there are these magnificent, kilometres long waterholes, the bed is dry and sandy where the road crosses it. The river just disappears into the flood plain in p;laces. I will be interested to see what it is like when we encounter it closer to the coast as we go to Onslow on the weekend.

As the Crossing was closed, we returned to the junction of the Tom Price and the Roebourne-Wittenoon Roads where we had stopped earlier to let the tyres down. From here, the day was all dirt roads, corrrugated badly in places, rocky in others and smooth in yet others.. This is where the Tom Price Road crosses the Tom Price Railway line that we had followed all the way out. No trains while we were there then. We travelled on the Roebourne-Wittenoon Road for 9kms and then we hit 10 kms of sealed road. I had read this was there – because the road over Mt Herbert is steep, narrow and very windy. Glen is sure this is the way we came 37 years ago as he remembered Python Pool wwhich was our destination. I don't but when he saw it, he was certain. (I will have to read my account of that journey which I still have!) A great swimming hole against a very tall rock wall (probably the end of a lava flow) that had a deep V cut into it by a stream which became a waterfall at this point. It was a very peaceful, beautiful place too - that we had to ourselves.

We returned to the intersection of roads and train line to pump up the tyres again as the road home was all bitumen. Glen was behind the car while Gail and I wandered about. She put her ear to the line to sees if a train was coming. Then a ute with two Rio Tinto workers drove up to see if we were alright. They were obviously wondering what two women were doing out there with the bonnet up! They got a bit of a shock when Glen popped up from behind the car and explained our presence! Then a train came through – on the other line. Gail was listening on the wrong one! A blast of the horn and a wave!

We came home, passing the loneblack swan on a creek again. It wasa good day for all – especially given the circumstances: it was Gail's wedding anniversary.