It is unusual for me to have two back to back weekend trips away, but that is how things landed. Last weekend a very overdue jaunt down south to catch up with Kym and his family, and this weekend was the one that suited Rongy best for a getaway. Although the idea for this destination came from Mario, who spotted a new mini-guide for the recently developed area. Two of the more dedicated climbers in WA got bored during the COVID lock downs of 2020 and 2021 and found this place, which kept them occupied:
The location being a headland called Point Irwin just south of Peaceful Bay. Based on what the mini-guide showed this place looked interesting, and I sent it on to Rongy who was keen to get down to check it out. Then the group ballooned out to Howsie, Sarah and Andreas keen to join in the fun. The six of us met up on Friday evening at the campsite, with Mario and Andreas having had an earlier start so they could stop in at Mount Frankland. Getting in some long 40 plus meter inland slab routes in before our coastal adventures:
An adventure that nearly didn’t happen. The guide recommends light winds and a one meter swell as being the best conditions for this spot. The forecast all week was strong winds up to 50km/hr with a moderate two to three meter swell, so the promise of rough waters and lots of salt spray was a very high probability. The group chat we set up was busy for a few days pondering our options, and enough of us were keen to give it a go. In part because it was a place that none of us had been to before, which is a rare opportunity for the group we had:
From the campsite the options are to walk 4km along the Bibbulmun Track, or drive a short 20 minutes along a sandy 4WD track. We came prepared for the latter, although maybe not as prepared as may have been sensible. There was an air of excitement as we got ready, bright an early, driving out at 6am. While most of the other campers, in a very full site, were still in slumber land. In fact the campsite was so full that we almost didn’t manage to get a spot. However luck was on our side, and we were being optimistic that the conditions would be too:
The winds were easterlies, Kym would tell you they are the worse winds for Albany. The only people happy to have them are the kite surfers who can then power about in Shoal Bay, flying high into the air as the wind buffets everyone else who is out and about. The forecast was for moderate winds in the morning and by lunchtime it was tipped to get to the real strong winds. The reason this was an important consideration was that the place had two cliffs one facing east and the other west, and it made sense to hit the east facing one first while the winds were not as strong:
The twenty meter slabby walls of King Penguin Cliffs looked stunning, and they were also in great condition. No greasy salt covering them, feeling like we were somehow sheltered from the easterly winds, and the sun was a nice temperature. I was super excited and quickly got ready to rap in, and being the first down I was squealing like an excited kid when it feels like all your dreams come true. On first inspection the spot looked very, very cool. But it is a sea cliff and with a moderate swell, so while I feeling like a kid I had to act as an adult:
Luck was again on our side and the low tide meant the water didn’t come too high up, and we were protected by a good length of platform between us and the choppy ocean. That said freak waves are not uncommon here, so we stayed tied in at the base. Above Howsie was second to come down and gives a bit of perspective on the size of the wall. And below Mario was the first off the deck to start a climb, on the steeper and more featured walls to the left hand end. Most of the routes here were in the 17 to 20 range, so there was plenty for most:
That said it was only Sarah’s third time on rock, and truth be told the first time she only went up one route. Added to that she is also not all that keen on the ocean, and it unnerves her a bit. But since that first taste of rock she has been to bouldering gyms and is hooked, so was keen to get away for a weekend of climbing even if it meant bottling up any discomfort the ocean might bring. There were fortunately two grade 15s. Although that is harder than any route she had previously climbed, with Rongy’s guidance she really enjoyed her first climb here:
Howsie and I were spoilt for choice, with a good number of lines to pick from. We didn’t go for the grades, more so interested in the names of the routes and also the features that the routes scaled. The grey granite was interwoven with bands of quartz, some fine lines with near invisible crystals and others comprised wide chunky bands with the hexagonal structured quartz that you would expect to see in a shop. The names all had a marine creature theme and I was particular taken with “Dancing with a Dugong”, also because it was a fully trad line:
The place has a mix of sport, trad and mixed routes and we were all absorbed in the delight of scaling up and then rapping back down the face. The wind couldn’t be further away from our minds, and the roar of the ocean became a tranquil and almost soothing background noise. It was most definitely smiles all round, and for Rongy and Sarah’s second climb they climbed a corner that has no recorded ascents. A little surprising as it was an obvious line and looked good, so in keeping with the theme they called it “The sea’s not your anemone”:
And as all good climbing names should, there is a play on words and rationale behind it that is not always obvious. I’ll leave you to ponder on that, based on what I have said so far, and see if you can work it out. While all this was going on Mario decided to test himself on a route that I was kind of keen to jump on, but I also didn’t want to wear myself out. So it was good to see how he fared on “Tusky Times” a layback crack at grade 22. He certainly enjoyed himself and took a few falls on it, until he finally worked out a sequence that worked for him:
It looked pretty powerful and as such I decided not to go for it myself. But I was happy to jump on “Cling-On Like a Crab” at a grade 22/23, and only because it was a slabby route so would be more about balance and technique, as opposed to energy draining power and endurance. My only mistake was to climb it, as I had been all morning, without chalk. While the conditions were great, a slab at that grade has marginal holds and several times I fell off the crux with a good five meter drop each time:
Being a new’ish crag, and not having had many visitors there were no chalk to mark the holds. This added to the enjoyment of climbing here, really needing to work out the routes with no hints or clues. Having so much fun the morning seemed to fly past, and soon we were on the last climbs of the session. It is hard to say if it felt time to head out because we were starting to get hungry, the wind was picking up, or that the tide was getting higher allowing the water to creep that bit closer:
And just because the names were so much fun I’ll mention that the last climbs we did were “Cranky Crab”, “Sea Possum”, and “Sir Henry the Seagull” being climbed by Howsie, Mario and Rongy in the above and below images. It still feels very strange that the conditions were as good as they were, and despite the continuing army of white crested waves and easterly winds we couldn’t feel any sea spray. So while it was sad to finish up on the King Penguin Cliffs, we were excited to see what was on offer on the other side of the headland:
Before we got there we hiked back to the car, dropping the bags part way to save lugging them back and forth. Both crags are within ten minutes of the carpark of what the signs called Castle Rock, although we never saw the feature that might give this headland that name. And interestingly I do not recall seeing any signs calling it Irwin Point, although I do know that name comes from the Irwin Inlet which is where the Bow and Kent Rivers discharge into Peaceful Bay. At the car we had lunch and filled our water bottles, before heading back down:
King Walrus Cliffs are a stark difference to the first crag. Way more broken and blocky in nature. Not so much slabby but littered with broken faces that provide cracks and features on what gave an appearance of steeper walls. Not as high with routes up to fifteen meters and while we expected the place to be sheltered and dry, it was the complete opposite. The easterly winds seemed to blow over the top and then circle back into the amphitheatre and with it came showers of sea spray. And surprisingly a number of faces were heavily seeping:
It took us a little by surprise and we spent some time wondering what we might bother trying, on what seemed initially to be more scrappy routes on less than ideal rock conditions. Sadly there wasn’t much for Sarah to jump on, all seeming that bit steeper and harder. But she was content to potter about checking the area out, and it also seemed that Mario had worn Andreas out too. After one line here he too was happy to not climb anymore. That left Rongy, Howsie, Mario and I to accustom ourselves to the changed environment:
The sun beating down on us with more intensity and the blustery conditions seemed to help dry a few of the lines just a little bit, or maybe we were imagining that. Soon we got back into the tickety tick mode of the morning, knocking one line off after another. We were warming to the place and the different charm of the King Walrus Cliffs was growing on us. Mario in his usual manner was keen to try a more testy looking line and wasn’t disappointed with this unusual and very intriguing route, and enjoyed in despite again finding some air time:
Howsie and I aimed for the more sedate lines, easing into the finale of the day. The routes names didn’t have the same consistent theme as in the morning, but the climbing was still interesting and engaging. The longest line on the back wall, as shown below, was graded 18. A slabby wall made it the best bet for Sarah to get a climb in. While it didn’t feel like an 18, that is what it is given so she can now claim to not only to have been involved in a first ascent but also having climbed an 18, which is pretty impressive:
We were thankful for the huge leaning boulder, giving us respite from the sun between routes. It was definitely hotting up and the pace and energy wasn’t being exuded by anyone at the same rate as it was when we first arrived. After two days of climbing Mario’s fingertips were looking worse for wear, with the skin almost broken on several fingers. Andreas and Sarah were looking ready to call it a day, and Rongy, Howsie and I were fast running out of reasonable options to choose from:
So while there seemed to be lots of daylight left we decided it was time to pack up and head out. But not before taking in the majestic location we were so lucky to have experienced. I even jested that we were leaving too early when we got back to the cars, it wasn’t even 4pm. A comment brought about by the thought of being back at a busy packed campsite rather than out here. And maybe I jinxed it, when as we drove back out and were just about to finish the last section of soft sand when Howsie’s car came to a halt:
Andreas behind also had to stop and so it was both cars became bogged. It was time to dig and let down the tires even more, but that didn’t seem to help Andreas. Fortunately someone else came along and they had sand plates. With these, snatch straps, and a bit of pushing we eventually got the cars off the soft sandy beach. Meanwhile the generous passer-by also got a bit bogged, it was all quite comical. We discovered later it is a common occurrence, even for the experienced, to come unstuck here:
During all the de-bogging I spotted the above native Red Legged Weevil (Catasarcus impressipennis). And like this weevil, once free from the sand, the cars continued on their journey with no more hiccups, and we still got back at what I would regard as an early finish. But we were all pretty toasted and had got plenty of climbing in. On the plus there was plenty of time to put our food order in, go to the beach for a very refreshing dunk in the protected Peaceful Bay, have a shower, and sink a beer before it was time to eat:
An advantage of being in a campsite such as this was that there was a fish and chips shop. Doing a roaring trade during the school holiday and it was a good job that we pre-ordered, and thankfully not being affected by the potato shortage with plenty of chips to go round. The shortage having come about due to the consistent wet weather and flooding affecting many parts of Australia, weather conditions that we are grateful to not be subjected too in the South West corner of Western Australia:
You may recall Sarah as being a bit of a reptile nerd, and on the first night her and Rongy had gone snake hunting. It was unsuccessful but they did find some frogs about, so tonight Howsie and I were going to join them in the hunt. As we cleared the site up reading to go, I somehow managed to be involved in my second rear window shattering experience. The canopy window literally exploding in my hand. It was then almost comical as six of us were on hands and knees using head troches to pick out the hundreds of glass shards from the grass:
It was a great team effort and I feel like just about all of the glass was picked up, at least everything we could find. Then we went frog hunting, and even before we got out of the camp site there were Quacking Froglets (Crinia georgiana), Slender Tree Frogs (Litoria adelaidensis), Motorbike Frogs (Litoria moorei), and Moaning Frogs (Heleioporus eyrei), the latter shown below. Howsie and Sarah confirming our finds on their frog identification apps. We didn’t see too much else on the hike, but did lots of lightening that got closer and closer:
The abundance of frogs should have been a sign. Sometime after we were all tucked up in our sleeping bags the drops started to fall. It rained, hard at times, for some two hours and then on and off for many more. The morning looked to be clearing up but east and south dark clouds and lightening was still apparent. Several factors came to mind including the rock could well be seeping, the risk of taking on the soft sand hung over the heads of the drivers, and the broken back window made the car more vulnerable to theft:
Added to that Mario would have been foolish to risk breaking skin on his fingertips. Once that happens the healing time is significantly extended. Andreas was also happy not to climb after their two solid days. So we broke the wet camp slowly, the decision was made and there was little point attempting to get a morning climb in with all the risks and uncertainties. We were not however despondent, it had been a great trip during which we had packed in a heap of routes and really enjoyed the whole getting away experience and all it offered:
Sandbagged 