In late 2017 I started to build my boulder wall with the help of Craig, and it was Craig and Geoff that then helped me set the 150 odd holds I had bought. Looking back at the post (https://sandbagged.blog/2019/01/06/finally-my-boulder-wall/) the wall looked shiny and new but also the spread of holds looked very sparse. I was lucky in to get back in touch with Eric in late 2018, just about when he decided to sell all the holds from his boulder wall and so I could remedy my concerns with an additional 150 plus holds which Geoff, Nana and Craig helped to place:
With the arrival of Easter 2021 and the promise of the “busiest tourist season ever”, I’d already decided that there was no point in using the car even with would four days off. Instead the idea came to mind that it was time to spring clean the wall. As such the Wednesday before I opened up the shed for a boulder it was to be the last session on the old look wall. Friday morning arrived and the task began. I started early and was later joined by Tomski and Alan, and using tools to avoid manually removing all the holds it was quick work:
I’d already spent several hours at it before the boys had arrived so was more than happy for them to take the tools. This allowed me to sort the holds they took off for easier use later on. The three of us operated like a well-oiled machine and we had sped along with the job, and were getting more done than I had expected. By mid-morning the wall was stripped and 300 plus holds were laid out in neat piles ready to be put back up:
It wasn’t all work, work, work although when we were in the shed I was a pretty ruthless task master. I’m not one to dilly-dally on a job that needs completing, so can become a little driven. However, today we did have a morning tea break. Lisa had kindly stopped at the shops the day before and brought Easter goodies to feed the crew that had offered to help me out. Today however we indulged in Jaime’s amazing sticky date pudding. The poodles tried but failed in getting a taste, which is probably a good thing:
Then it was back at it, time to reset the wall. Lisa and I were due to head round to the neighbours for the afternoon so we still had a few hours left to crack on. The plan was to get all the holds on the roof and then to start setting all the footer holds. There were previously a few holds on the roof that rarely, if ever, got used and we consciously only put the jugs back up. We never go too hard on this wall so there was no need to make the roof stupidly hard. I’ve also got about four sets of holds that are great for footers and we soon had them evenly spread:
We had noticed before how a few of the early routes had become a little trickier after bigger holds had got in the way. This had resulted in recurring bash elbows and knees, but we never moved them. So with the advantage of resetting all the holds in one hit we then put back the bigger holds, which allowed us to also set a few routes. When I posted an image or two of progress Rongy, Craig and Jake were probably getting nervous that there wasn’t much left for them to do the next day. But their needn’t have worried:
With Alan and Tomski’s help we had done a great job in having the wall ready for the serious route setters to come in and do their thing. Saturday morning arrived and it was time for the larger sets of holds were to be placed, and this meant that the boys spent a lot more time thinking about which set of foot holds they wanted to use and how they would place the holds. The sticky boots came out straight away so they could test each move. It was a much slower process but it’s not the sort of thing that can be rushed:
With four of us setting routes it got quiet congested but we managed to work round each other well, the idea was to ensure that there was a range of difficulties. But every so often a remark would come out that “oh that’s a great move but it’ll be tricky”. I have to admit that it felt like we wouldn’t get the job done, despite the boys being available to help till mid-afternoon. The more thoughtful approach required, plus all the chit chat, was slowing things down. So I applied a little pressure when relevant and kept the tea and snacks flowing to keep them going:
By lunchtime it was done. The setting of the last few sets of holds became quicker, not due to lack of thinking of how to do it but due to the lack of places to put the holds! Nearly every t-nut was used up and we even had to drill a few extra holes to put some more up. There was also some time to try a few of the routes. It was surprising just how tiring the task had been and I didn’t get back on the wall on Sunday or Monday. Wednesday evening came and opening up the shed we tried the routes and most of them felt on the hard side. No stress it is good to have finally reset the wall after three plus years, and we now have some problems to work at:
With light breezes and a low swell continuing into Sunday, and after seeing the awesome conditions down the coast at Bob’s Hollow, it would have been crazy not to have jumped in the water today. Geoff had said he had a late night and was not up for a dip, despite me trying to convince him that the cool water would be like a refreshing tonic. So a little later in the morning than usual it was just Lisa and I parked up at the beach access letting the tyres down. Gotta love the brass valves to get them down without the fuss of having to check the pressure every time:
Being about ten there was the expected traffic already out, but it didn’t take long for us to find a quiet spot to park up. There is approx. 7km of beach to drive along and most of it has reef just off the shoreline, so you can always find somewhere quiet. We’d been to this spot a few times before and the reason for picking it this time was that I liked the idea the shallow ground to look for more nudibranchs, slugs or flatworms. The one I had found off the river mouth recently (Barren ground) was an Orange Flatworm, and I was keen to find more:
The water felt great and looked pretty clear as I went in. The lush green Sea Lettuce on the shallow part of the reef swayed about. Being close to high tide I thought it may be calm, but the shallow depth here compressed the water making it move quicker. Above me the cormorants didn’t mind me swimming directly under their perch. Lisa told me later they had stayed put the whole time. After a quick look round the rocks without success of finding anything fun I moved on. The ground got deeper and my hopes of finding what I was after started to fade:
I looked for bommies with exposed rocky parts and dived down staring intensely for a flash of colour or that slow graceful movement. Nothing… until I excitedly saw what looked to be a flatwork and I stayed down as long as my lungs would allow me. Waiting for any movement but it stayed completed stationary, and is more likely to be some form of sponge. The detail wasn’t obvious to me in the water, but looking at the image back home, I could make out the small holes through which a sponge would draw and expel water to filter out food:
I scoured the reef and soon decided to end the hunt. A started to just look about for anything else, and while the visibility was great and swell was indeed low it was eerily quiet. The occasional usual fish would poke it’s head out from the weed and watch me carefully as I swam about and only the ever present Banded Sweep seemed to be out in the open. The only shoals I saw compromised a small group of young Buff Bream and smaller fish such as Gobbleguts, Western Pomfret and Anchovy:
I went down to check selves and caves, and went through a few swim throughs but they too mostly seemed devoid of any visible life. I did come across quite a few rock lobsters, and thought Geoff would have had fun trying to catch them only to then find out they were undersized and have to release them. Not a single sea star, ray, squid, cuttlefish or octopus was about. I started to feel I was taking all that I had previously seen before a little for granted, after all I have to date been incredibly lucky with what I have discovered and there won’t always be something new to see:
I came across a group of three beautiful Spiny-tail Leatherjacket and followed them about for a bit, each time diving down at a distance attempting to sneak up and get a good image. Before I got too close they would casually turn their tail on me and head off to the next hiding hole. I would wait for them to remerge and so the pattern repeated, until I gave up. As I flowed the leatherjackets a few Old Wife seemed to hang about, not too concerned about being paid some attention. So I managed to get a lovely consolation prize image:
Heading back I decided to look round the shallow rocks one more time. Again I didn’t find what I was after but did come across a few Threefin, too fast for me, and a small group of Cleaner Shrimps. It was good fun watching them and at times let go of the rock and swam to another part, having such control despite the moving water. Rongy has suggested they may be Boxer Shrimps, so called due to what looks like red gloves just below their pincers. I’ve not however managed to identify them using google, so will have to resort to QuestaGame once more to see if they agree:
It was finally time to head back to shore, Lisa hadn’t felt like coming in and I found her reading her kindle chilling out. I hung all the gear up on the car and supped on a hot cuppa, feeling it warm me from the inside. Looking out at the amazing aqua blue colour of the water I spotted the familiar dark shape of a ray, which turned out to be a Short-tailed Stingray. I pulled my mask on and walked out towards the shape before putting my head under the water, as expected it started to move away. I didn’t chase it and it started to come back directly towards me, and I’ll leave you to watch the video as it then started to scour the rocks for food:
It was an amazing sight, the ray was quite literally inches away from me, as it went about looking for food. Eventually turning round and heading back out, there was no need to follow it after such a close encounter I was more than happy. This time when I got out I stayed out, and after warming myself back up we packed the car. On the drive back we kept looking, in awe, at the colour of the water. Next weekend, like my thoughts about hitting the crags for a climb we may stay away or just have early morning stints at the beach we can walk too, as this part of the beach will no doubt be overrun with tourists in their shiny 4WDs:
Dan finally made it over from Melbourne to visit his family, and as is the usual custom we took the opportunity to organise a day out on rock. This time Jo stayed in Melbourne busy with work. His trip to the west has been an on again, off again situation for the obvious reasons and as such it was not until we knew he was able to travel that we discussed our plans. In view of his only annual opportunity to climb here I allowed him the choice of crags. I was a little was surprised to find out that he had never climbed at Bobs Hollow, which was where we decided on:
Not catching up to climb with Dan too often, we are lucky if it is once a year, I decided not to put the trip out there on the wider group. Although I was conscious that Howsie would be keen for a trip here, to continue on his 2021 challenge. So he and Mikey were set to join us, but after a rough week at work Howsie had to bail. Mikey was still keen so we were going to head out with three, which isn’t a bad thing at this steep pumpy crag. With three it allows a bit more of a rest between climbs. As it was Tomski was also seeking a trip out and at the nth hour he became part of the crew making it four again:
Mikey, Dan and I met in Capel at 4, an early start for a few reasons. This place is a bit further away and has a 40min walk in; when the sun hits it at around 11 the climbing becomes uncomfortable for most; and lastly and probably the key driving factor being to avoid the crowds. With no international travel, the folk that would normally head to Thailand have been using this place. The popularity of the steep sport climbing cliff has shot up and I’ve seen as many as 40 plus people here, and for a crag with less than that many climbs it can feel too busy:
On the drive down Mikey and Dan made their introductions, the last time they had met was probably at the PCYC a decade or more back. Both are mentioned in my write ups about the main people I have climbed with in the South West, and now seems a good opportunity to share a link to my post about those people: https://sandbagged.blog/2020/04/21/south-west-climbers/. Tomski was parked up at the head of the walk track when we arrived and in the cool morning, with just enough light to see the track, we hiked in. The sky was cloudy and a very slight drizzle fell on us for a brief moment as we approached, but was soon over never to return:
We arrived to an empty crag, but the signs of people to come were there, a few routes were equipped. Draws hung from the bolts of two lines, but at 22 and 25 these were not lines we aimed to start on or possible even consider. During our discussion Dan had hinted 22 was the top grade for the day and based on this I had given him a list of routes I felt were worthy, eight all up. He wandered along the crag taking it all in, after all Bob’s is a mighty and impressive place. Meanwhile Mikey got straight down to business and jumped on Thyeses Feast. He had been keen to try it, driven by brotherly competitiveness as Howsie (yes his brother) had mentally struggled on the finishing moves during his 2020 challenge. And never got a clean ascent:
Dan was a bit slower starting, and didn’t leave the deck until Mikey was on the way back down after a successful ascent, and of course I simply had to take a video of this for Howsie (see below). After checking out the crag Dan hadn’t picked any lines to have a go at so I directed him towards Right Fin, the first route on the replanned list I had made. He took a steady pace up the initial easy corner getting used to the rock and after the first steep bugle he sat in a big cave. Taking in the view and allowing his arms to recover before the final push, which didn’t present him any trouble:
Tomski followed Mikey and a bit like last week at Wilyabrup, while not a completely new rock for him it would be a new experience. He had been here before but we were hitting some harder and steeper lines than he had previously attempted. As we are coming to know, he is not one to give up and so he again proved in bucketful’s today. The intention was for him to second up the first route, but Mikey accidently pulled the rope. So it was Tomski headed up on lead. My intention was not to lead anything today allowing Dan all the glory and being happy to relax with a rope above me, but the temptation got the better of me:
So after I also lead and then cleaned Right Fin, Dan and I hit Constructive Vandalism. While Tomski battled onwards. He made it to the final steep wall in good style, but the overhung, powerful and pumpy final section wore him down after repeated attempts. Before Dan or I could offer to clean the line Mikey was heading back up, and got a clean lead again. It could have been to rub Howsie’s nose in it even more, but Mikey claims he wanted to try the left hand finish. It’s the way I climb it, and he too found it a more secure way to finish the route:
The place was still empty but as Mikey headed up Right Fin the first person arrived. He said he was with a crew of six, and it took a while before they all arrived. Stuart the first guy to arrive obviously speed marched the walk track, leaving his mates for dust. Mikey polished off his route and Dan climbed Dependence Day, again making use of a big cave to kick back and take in the view of the ocean. And only then did the second person from that party arrived. Julian recognised me and had to enlighten me as to where we had met. He had once come along to my wall with Ash and smashed every problem I pointed him towards:
My memory of Dependence Day was that it was hard, sustained and had a powerful finish. I pondered my options and this time I accepted a top rope, and only afterward questioned if I should have led it. It, or was it me, climbed really well and the route wasn’t half as hard as my memory had led me to believe. I too took refuge in the big cave, and man that view is good. The holds today felt good. Some are starting to get slippy not from moisture but wear and all the chalk that people use. Too many people climb with way too much chalk and coat the rock, filling in any pores resulting in any friction being lost:
Today both Dan and I rarely used chalk, and there were only a handful of times did we dip into the bag and even then sparingly. The conditions were that good today, dry but also cool. As I was preparing to rap back down Tomski was this time climbing with the rope above him, so I hung on the rope for a while and watched. Also Stuart was being belayed by Julian up Magnus the Robot Fighter. This route was on the list I had put together for Dan and is the same grade as Dependence Day, jumping on it cold is a tall order. One Kym had set me many years back when I had failed at the anchors, and today Stuart failed to get to the anchors despite being tantalisingly close:
This did make me wonder about the route and whether I was up for it. I’ve climbed it once since with Rongy and again it had me beat, the sustained pumpy nature wore me down even quicker that time. Before heading back down I watched Tomski battling the bulge offering some advice and encouragement. He had again managed the lower wall, but was really struggling with this steeper more overhung stuff. It comes down to technique and confidence, but when your arms are beat both are hard to muster up. And try, try and try as he did the battle against the bulge was over:
As more people turned up we got into tickety tick mode, as Kym would say. I cleaned Right Fin to allow Mikey to save some strength for other routes. That wasn’t however until after Dan, after watching Julian attempting Hollow Promises, decided to have a go. At a lofty grade 25 it was ambitious. He set off confidently, making it to the crux sequence and looked calm and relaxed. From there it looked like a series of sharp fingery holds came next, and they all had to be gained dynamically. After one attempt he declared he would come down, but I rallied the crowd and they all agreed he should try again. It looked promising but it was too tough and this time I lowered him back down, and he was rightfully happy with where he got to:
They then attempted to encourage me to have a bash. I was however contemplating my nemesis and decided to go for it Carmen, one of the crew of six and had just climbed it. And watching her more focused and fluid approach to the climb made me think that I would be OK on it. She almost faltered at the crux but we all encouraged her to keep going, which she did. Coming back down after the successful ascent Carmen questioned whether it was a real clean lead, as she had sat in a big cave that is on route. We all agreed that it still counted, after all Dan had used the same approach twice today and there was no hint from any of us that he had “cheated”:
I’m pleased to say that I managed Magnus the Robot Fighter without too much worry, even the final holds felt good. But I did take a moment in that cave too, to look out and enjoy a view that I will never tire of seeing and prepare for the next stage. Sadly I forgot to carry my camera up so there is no image of what I was lucky to see from there. After that Mikey hit Constructive Vandalism and was super happy when he got that one clean too, he was on a roll and climbing well. Tomski also got up this route… eventually. This one is steep most of the way but he was determined not to give up and must have been shattered when he finally got there:
Dan and I successfully attacked Black Lung, and as we continued to hit routes more and more groups were turning up. Nearly all were walking past us to the southern end, which was now being hit by the sun. Dan munched on some food but I had ants in my pants and felt like I had to keep moving or throw in the towel for the day, so I ran up and self-cleaned Puk Puk Sen. Meanwhile Julian successfully got up Hollow Promise, on his second attempt of the day. While it was a clean lead he still had a bit of a hissy fit, because he hadn’t been able to clip both anchors. This became the next topic for debate and we agreed it still counted and told him to stop whinging. Mikey was pleased with that as he did the same thing just minutes later, as he got up Black Lung:
Sport climbing and the ethics therein are a fickle topic, and it was fun having those debates. Before Mikey had climbed Constructive Vandalism, I had badgered him about pink pointing the route when there was a hint the guys already on it would leave the draws in for him. I didn’t mentioned, and no one noticed that this was how I led Magnus the Robot Fighter. It’s all about fun at the end of the day, and a bit of heckling is a good thing. Tomski decided not to climb Black Lung, so I cleaned that one before we trouped down to the southern end, hoping that the twenty odd people down there were not occupying all of the lines. We were lucky and they were mostly split into two groups, each huddled round one line each:
Dan was drawn towards one of the crag classics, Shaved Cat, while Mikey plumped for the fun Juggernaut. We had to wait for a couple to finish on our route before we started, and it was in full sun as we approached midday. It certainly felt warm and there was a sting to the sun, but that didn’t stop Dan. He was however happy to call it the last climb, as his forearms started to cramp on this route. I was more than happy to have a rope above me on this one, and even more so when a line of Processionary Caterpillars (like the ones I included in my post Battling the Elements: https://sandbagged.blog/2021/03/10/battling-the-elements/) were marching up the side of the flake where all of the holds were. It’s best not to touch these as their hairs will penetrate your skin and it can be very irritating:
Mikey was going fine making good use of all the caves on his route, then as he had to exit the relative comfort of them and climb the open face three things happened. The sun hit him, he kinda went off route and then his arms flaked. Taking his first fall of the day, just as he reached the next bolt. He’d runout of draws on the side he wanted to get one from, struggling to reach the ones on the other side he didn’t managing too before his arms gave way. He got it on the next attempt and polished off the route, I feel like he too was toast and ready to call it a day. While Tomski was heading up for the last lap of the day, Dan had scooted to what we had seen from all those caves we had sat in today:
I joined him and it felt wonderful to fully immerse into the cool, crystal clear waters. The ocean was flat today, Mikey and I both felt it would have been the perfect day to have brought the snorkel gear. But time was not on our side and after this route we knew we had to make tracks. As Tomski battled his way up, Dan and I kicked back in the cool waters watching. Waiting until he neared to end before we got out and made our way back up, all refreshed and feeling cool. We packed the gear and said our goodbyes leaving some 30 plus people to carry on climbing, as the sun started to creep round soon to dispel any lingering shade:
It was a hot walk out. There was hardly a breeze in the air and the heat seemed to get trapped on the track especially when it was carved through the higher vegetation. To the west that view we had seen from the caves was constantly there, only disappearing when the vegetation went above head height. Before the last stretch we stood there for a while taking in the stunning colours. Below a long perfectly white sandy beach stretched out with maybe ten people on it. It was amazing that the place wasn’t overrun, and my guess is that many people are waiting for next weekend and then they will be down in droves:
Not only will it be the long Easter weekend but also the start of the school holidays. About ten cars were at the head of the walk track from where the climber walk in and I dread to think how many may be parked here next weekend. So much so that I am unlikely to head out and instead have other plans. Today had however been a storming trip, everyone had worked hard and really enjoyed themselves. In perfect conditions we clocked up seventeen leads between us, which is pretty impressive for Bobs. Dan and I made plans as we drove back, and hopefully this time next year I’ll be able to pop over and visit Dan and Jo so they can take me round some east coast crags:
It felt like it had been forever since I had climbed at Wilyabrup, but looking back it has only been a mere two months. On that trip we climbed with three. Ash, having his first bash at trad leading, and Jaime happy to second up nearly anything. Today I headed back with Tomski and Jaime, and as we approached the morning was looking glorious. Ash was considering tagging along, but after a few days of outdoor adventure he said he had housework to do, while his mates who we met down there indicated he was a little cooked from all the other adventures. Despite only arriving half an hour after light had crept in, it was already bright and after just leading up one climb also hot and sticky:
I had already mapped out a bit of a plan of attack for today, and we started as I had planned. The Unbolted and the Beautiful, which I originally graded 15, once again proved to be a tough opposition. Jaime came second and the crux, which some say is worthy of 17, had her beat. There is fortunately an escape past this up the route to the right, but after that there is no getting away from the relentless headwall. Great holds but no rests. Tomski also struggled, probably rushing in a bit, like a kid in a candy store. Chomping at the bit he came up, and a couple of times he just did not seem to stop and think things through:
I had thought Tomski would cruise it, as he’d just spent two week climbing in Tasmania. But where he was climbing for those two weeks the rock had superb friction and it was cold, relatively speaking. Here the hard Gneiss does not soak up any moisture and today was humid, making the many smeary holds feel like soap. Layered on top of that Tomski really hasn’t climbed a huge amount, so jumping on a rock that demanded a different approach and style had thrown him. Climbing is so hugely variable depending on the rock, conditions and your state of mind, which to me is a big part of the appeal of trying different places when I can:
My original intention was to bump it up for the second route and hit One for the Road. While they both enjoyed the challenge of the first route, based on how they had gone there seemed to be some sense in dialling it back. So we ambled up Glory at a relaxed grade 13. As I belayed up top in full sun sweat was dripping off me and the mossies buzzed all around. It was weird to have not even completed two routes before it felt hot. So much so I wouldn’t have been surprised if we wrapped up early today. Jaime was stoked as she followed up, getting over the small rooflet clean first attempt. Previously when we climbed it, that section had given her grief:
Tomski was still adjusting the more open hand rounded holds, the routes he’d been on in Tasmania were sport routes with more in cut positive holds. The use of open hand holds makes use of a different set of muscles and that was not only foxing him but also making his arms pump out quickly. After veering off my planned itinerary for the second route we came back on track for number three. There are two fabulous 18s on the upper part of Steel Wall, with a great ledge to set up camp on. So we rapped down and it felt like bliss, both the shade and a slight cooling breeze made it so much more comfortable:
I took the first lead up the trad 18, a great route that is technically never very hard but requires focus, as you run it out between gear placements. Not all of which inspire confidence, and the hot sweaty conditions made the lead a bit more nervous than usual. I took my time and carefully made my way up. In the background I could hear Jaime and Tomski questioning whether they would be able to follow me, and I feel that my much slower and cautious pace was making them think it looked too hard. Both however managed a clean second, and while they may have had a few tentative moments on the smaller holds they both came up with big smiles:
The other 18 is fully bolted, and I had in mind for Tomski to have a bash at leading it. So we rapped back down to our lofty perch and he got himself psyched up for the lead. I wasn’t too sure how he would go, but the way he climbed the last 18 gave me more confidence. He was slowing down and being more thoughtful, and also using his feet better. Also on this wall the holds tend to be more in cut and crimpy holds. A style that he was more used to. Before we rapped down he was hinting that he was happy to try because of the clean falls, and that he probably wouldn’t get it clean:
We needn’t have worried, as is usually the case when you lead your mind kicks into gear. The consequences of making a mistake are far more real and you become more focused on the task that lays ahead. This showed, Tomski made more deliberate but not rushed movements. Checking holds and making sure he worked his feet well, not over extending and never slapping for any holds. It was great to watch, and he looked like a completely different climber to the Tomski we had seen on the first climb of the day. Not only was it a great lead but it was also his first time at belaying from the top of a route:
While whether you belay from the bottom or top may seem like a small thing, it does change how you go about it. The way you catch a fall changes and to make it comfortable your belay setup also changes. Both Jaime and Tomski throughout the day were eager to observe, ask and discuss all the elements of climbing, looking at what they could do to improve their climbing. It is as simple as how you place your feet to allow rotation in your knees and hips, not over extending yourself to avoid getting stuck in a position that is near impossible to get out of and as the day had worn on the climbing styles had improved:
It had felt like we had been moving well on rock today despite climbing with three, and we were now four routes in. But when we checked the time five hours had slipped past, midday was closing in on us and the sun was creeping round. Soon to bathe every wall. We were back on the deck, and without the elevated position to maximise the slight breeze you could feel the heat again. While time had caught up with us, the heat was rising and the sun was soon to be on us we all felt good after the last couple of routes and so decided on just one more. My plan was only to hit the four routes, so we walked along to pick a line and decided on the wall with the most shade:
This also happened to be occupied by several other groups and as I set off up Inner Space, without warning, a rope came down from above. We made a few terse comments about the stupidity of not checking below before throwing the rope down and the guilty party eventually and sheepishly came over and apologised. I carried on up regardless, the holds felt slippy and I wondered how the other two might go. Jaime managed to get most of the way up before she was toast and Tomski not quite as far before he was slipping off the slimy holds. The decision was made pretty quickly after that, time to pack up and sweat our way back to the car. We agreed that next time we would hit Innerspace first up, with fresh arms and hopefully cooler conditions:
Driving home from work on Tuesday it felt warm and the leaves on the trees weren’t showing any signs of movement. So before pulling into our driveway I did a quick loop up over the hill to see what the water was looking like. Flat and clear, so it seemed, so I got home kitted up and walked back down for a swim. It wasn’t the best visibility but I was pleased to head in, it was a great way to wash the hectic day away. It was also good timing as I came across heaps of chains of what appeared to be small jellyfish, ones I have not seen before:
They were everywhere, some were single, while some were in long chains. For some they seemed fully formed with distinct bodies but others were clear, and this variability even existed within the same chains. Each had a small dark spot, and I have just discovered that these are not jellyfish but salp or salpa. The dark spot is their digestive system and they swim by pumping water through their main body, something I could see happening. I’ve read that they come out when there is a phytoplankton bloom, which is what they feed on:
These creatures are part of the tunicates group, and if my research can be believed they are considered one of the most evolved marine invertebrates. I didn’t see anything else worth reporting on but was none-the-less pleased to have gone out. It certainly helped break up the working week. I didn’t go in again during the week although it was temping on Friday when it was even hotter and there was very little breeze. However, Friday is our traditional crash night with fish and chips, so I left the dive for the morning:
The conditions looked favourable, not a huge swell and light winds. The surface looked reasonable and the near shore water wasn’t too bad but as I went in it turned into a bit of a pea-soup. I’d enjoyed the bommies near the river mouth so much that I had gone back to the same spot, hoping to find more sea slugs. Just finding the bommies in-between the sand patches proved challenging but I found them and went down trying hunting for sea slugs. I had no chance, the swell was pushing the weed and me about and I reckon these little creatures would be tucked away somewhere safe:
I came across various fish as I pottered about, nothing new or exciting but it was again good just to have my head under water. I was a little surprised to also come across a patch of squid eggs, I seem to have found them throughout the snorkelling season this time. I wonder if they have a set season or month in which they normally lay their eggs, or whether like many have found the weird changing conditions this year are throwing the sea life out of whack. As I watched these eggs I could see the baby squid inside, but the light and swell wouldn’t allow me to get an image to captured that:
Despite the conditions I stayed out, the water was warm and occasionally I’d find something fun. Schools of anchovies and herring swam past and were quickly lost in the murkiness, there was no point is chasing any of the fish today. I didn’t give up on finding a sea slug and while I never did, I came across this small feather worm filter feeder. The span of the filters is probably only a couple of centimetres. I took a couple of quick snaps but then the weed covered it and when I went back down I sadly couldn’t find it again:
Heading back toward the carpark, which involved a couple of hundred meter swim along the coast, I continued to spot fish before they darted out of sight. I simply had to include this image of a male Shaw Cowfish. Unlike the one I saw during a recent dive, which was on its last legs, this one was healthy and full of colour. It was also not too keen on me being about and headed off at speed. As I drove home I popped in to see Geoff, and discovered that Nana had bought a few books to help identify her finds. So I can now say that the lattice looking plant I had in my last post is a Hydroclathrus which is an algae, I might need to borrow these books again:
Midweek, on arrival home from the climbing trip down south it was unusually humid. Cloud hung in the sky each day and it felt sticky. It seems that our summer and now autumn will continue to be a bit out of character. Humidity is the type of weather that I struggle with, making me feel weary but on the plus side there wasn’t a lot of wind and the ocean was reasonably calm. I was relieved and happy when Saturday arrived with a clear blue sky, the air was once more crisp and felt dry and it was time to don the wetsuit and head out:
In contrast to a couple of weeks back when autumn arrived, today was picture perfect. Not a ripple on the crystal clear water. There were hardly any people about despite the fact that I had headed out for a slightly later dip at nine o’clock, and also not one stinger in sight. A positive of the weird weather being that it has kept these pesky creatures mostly at bay. Today was election day in Western Australia, which may have accounted for the absence of people but due to the changing way of life over a third of Western Australians had already voted before the big day:
The conditions were amazing, so calm and clear. I had been offered to join a trip to Wilyabrup for a climb both Saturday and then again Sunday, but seeing I had the week off I had hit Welly Dam pretty hard on Friday and so opted to have a more relaxing swim with the fish. You may wonder why a climbing session had passed and I hadn’t written it up. Well I’d gone solo with my top-rope gear and so I decided for the first time since I started this blog not to write a session up:
It was probably the right choice to not climb again and the water felt lush, as I slowly bobbed about looking down. It seemed reasonably quiet underneath but I felt content with just lying there not expecting to see too much today. The little green fish in the second image is one that I’ll one day hopefully get a good image of and identify, I’ve only seen it a few times and again today it was in a hurry to get away. While the stinging jelly fish were not about, there were a bunch of Comb Jelly Fish and the best way to get an image of them is with the light behind them as above:
Being so calm the weed was almost stationary, creating a feeling of stillness in the water. Something I haven’t felt much of this season. I also came across a few other coverings on the sea bed today that I hadn’t to date paid any attention too. The above looks like a lattice and I’m not sure if it is a type of soft coral or it may even be an algae, something I’m having checked out. Small huddles of fish were about, but I left them alone most of the time unless there was something a little different that I noticed:
The Comb Jelly Fish come in a variety of shapes and today I found three or four variations. It is also possible some were the same but just at different stages of life, as they were sized from one to twenty centimetres. This was a small one at just over a couple of centimetres, and it looked to have brown coloured combs. These small filaments are called cilia and they run along the more defined lines or edges of the creature. The scientific name for these creatures is ctenophore and they can grow up to one and half meters making them the largest animal to make use of cilia to swim:
While I didn’t actively chase a lot of fish today I did head down to check out the caves, I’m pretty familiar with the ground off my local beach now and a few of these areas are inhabited by the same creatures so I know beforehand what I will see. That is not to say I might come across an unexpected find, I came across an amazing and large Triggerfish under one ledge but that was in no mood to be seen and disappeared deeper into the maze that the limestone bommies create:
Above however the McCulloch’s Scalyfin that I regularly find in this tunnel was more than happy for me to say hello. It didn’t make any move to get away and even did a few pirouettes for me allowing for some lovely images. I particularly liked the one above, as I don’t often get images in which the scales are so clearly defined. Even the patterning on the fins and tail stand out really well. Moving on and in a recent post I included an image of three hard corals, all the same species but each one a different colour (https://sandbagged.blog/2021/02/14/deja-vu/):
I should have already known this coral, as I have in the past identified it. While the name escaped me as I typed, Nana and Rongy were quick to get back to me and tell me what it was. It was a hard encrusting coral called plesiastrea versipora, and today I came across a green variety so took a close up of the little polyps, as I had said I would in that previous post. These polyps are related to sea anemone and jellyfish and can live individually, using the hard base that created the coral as a protective home:
Polyps create energy by using the sunlight to make sugar, creating most of the nourishment they need. The tentacles can however be stinging and as such can also be used to catch zooplankton as an additional food source. Sea anemone like the one above are very much individual creatures, they find a home attached to anything from a rock, the sand or even on a shell. It is not uncommon for them to have symbiotic relationships with other creatures. I also came across another colony of zoantharia, which may be the same type as I found a few weeks back (https://sandbagged.blog/2021/03/01/autumn-arrives/):
The colouration and patterning certainly make it look that way, but these had much longer bodies and they seemed to have more structure to them. Standing more upright, instead of flopping over each other. Looking into these a bit more it is possible that these are Finger zoanthid (zoanthus praelongus). The opening on these seemed wider but that may also be due to the conditions, the last ones only had a few open when I found them, whereas for this colony they were all open. They also looked to be tubular in nature, making me wonder if they draw water through them, sadly again I have struggled to find any information out about them:
As I headed back in I did my usual detour over the sand but there wasn’t a lot to see. I had bumped into the neighbours, Esky and Cath, on the way down and they had been fishing. Schools of herring were abundant, dolphins had been cruising past and rays were swimming in the shallows, all no doubt in part attracted by the burley that is thrown in the water to bring the fish in closer. I didn’t see any of these animals on my dive, but did stop to check out another coral or maybe algae that looked particular pretty in the light. One more to have checked out:
On the final leg to shore I came across a battle weary or simply aging male Shaw Cowfish. It was in the shallows right off the beach and didn’t have the will or energy to get away from me. It was also not fussed about being on the sea bed where I would normally find these usually majestic looking fish as they search for food. This one was near the surface looking disorientated and ready to throw the towel in on life. I was still warm inside but my fingers were tingling telling me it was time to get out, so I left this sad looking fish in peace and headed home:
The conditions held out all day so a bit later in I went back in this time with Esky, who came armed with all his catch gear… just in case. Normally I would walk down the beach a way and head in from a set point, there is some really good ground and I’ve seen heaps here over the years. It is because I head in at the same location, most times, that I am so familiar with the ground round there. On this trip Esky was up for swimming straight out as soon as we got on the beach, it was flat and for the most part and barren with the floor littered with broken limestone:
We went in much deeper water than I would normally go, maybe six meters or a bit more. The deeper depths make it more tiring to duck dive down, not that I saw much that was worth investigating. I have made a mental note to myself to start training to be able to hold my breath for longer, in preparedness for next season. I hear a lot of it revolves around training the brain, and I’ll see how I go. The only find of note from all the barren ground we covered, and we covered a lot, was this leatherjacket. From QuestaGame the first suggestion that has come through is a Sixspine Leatherjacket and second is a Rough Leatherjacket, and the latter looks more likely:
As we had first gone out we did come across a large fish, maybe 80cm long or possibly a bit longer. Large scales across it’s long heavy body, mostly dark grey with lighter bands visible when the light was right. The head, tail and fins, especially the fanned out pectoral fin, were all quite distinct which is why I am surprised at how my I have struggle to figure it out. I plumped for a juvenile Samson Fish but Geoff and Nana have suggested it’s more likely to be a Dusky Morwong. While in the deeper water the image I got of this fish wasn’t great I was lucky to come across it a second time:
After we had swum out some 100m we tracked along the coast well beyond my normal spot and then come back in to shore further down the beach. The whole time it was barren and pretty well lifeless. So instead of coming out of the water like Esky did I headed for my usually spot which is where I found the Samson Fish was lurking in shallower water. I also found a few rays and other fish, including this very pretty Silver Yellowbelly. I was a bit slow on the camera with this one. Intent on watching a fish I haven’t seen very often, until it started to swim away:
Sunday came and I couldn’t resist a quick dip. And after being a little disappointed of the barren ground I headed somewhere different. Going straight out from the river mouth there are a load of bommies with sandy patches in-between. Some of the bommies are small and quite bare of weed but others are huge with lots of weed and little caverns. To get there I walked along the beach from the cark park at the far eastern end of Peppy Beach. I was hoping to find some nudibranchs or sea slugs here and almost immediately found one. It was only a few centimetres long but moved surprisingly quickly, so I only managed a couple of average images:
I believe this was a sea slug, as oppose to a nudibranch as it didn’t have any visible external gills. Two black antenna can just be made out on the right hand end, and you would think with obvious white patches and orange lining round the outer edge I could figure out what sort it is, but alas not. Soon this fella was out of sight and I moved on from bommie to bommie but didn’t find anymore. There were however lots of Western Pomfret, I recall previous dives here when I was surrounded by them and it felt like that today. There were also lots of good sized shoals of Gobbleguts, Sweeps and numerous other fish:
While there were several nooks and crannies to check out, this tunnel was by far the most interesting with lots of small orange bullseye floating about. I tried my best to stay down and get some improved images of some of the larger fish but struggled. The two that stuck in my mind were a solitary big twenty centimetre long bullseye and a beautiful green wrasse, and the latter can be seen in towards the back of the tunnel in the image below. After repeated attempts I gave up, unlike yesterday there was a bit more of a swell pushing me about despite the forecast indicating it should have been the same as yesterday:
Maybe it was because of the more open bay or the stronger easterlies cutting across the bay, but regardless of it feeling that way the visibility was still amazing. I was however starting to get cold and tired, so began the long swim back towards the access track onto the beach spotting heaps along the way. Of all my other finds the last image I’ll include is of this Black Throated Threefin, I saw several of these but this one unlike the others seemed happy for me to intrude on its personal space. Being only five centimetres long I had to get pretty close and was surprised that it didn’t dart away. I might have to come back here again soon:
Almost a year in the making and Rongy and I were ready to hit the road, the reason for such a long period of planning being that this five day trip was to celebrate a soon to arrive major birthday of his. But also it had started off with grand plans to head to Arapiles with a bit of a group. Then for one reason or another just Rongy and I heading to Tasmania for a road trip, which would of course have had to include a stop over to visit, and hopefully climb with, Chris and Sirja who had very kindly put us up and looked after us during our trip to the Blue Mountains in 2016. And then the reasons for the more recent indecisions is pretty obvious and so it was that finally we were on our way:
As we prepared to leave Alana, Katie and Ben were out waving us off, and it seemed that Ben was hoping to smuggle himself into the car. The car journey south was however way to quiet for him to have managed to sneak in, and so we started the near 5 hour drive to Cheyenne’s Beach. You may recall the name from our recent South Coast Revisited trip, when the two of us along with Andrew and Howsie stayed here. And it was some of those crags that had drawn Rongy’s interest in coming back down this way, seeing any interstate travel could not be relied on with any certainty. This time we did not go glamping in cabins, but stayed under canvas and were the only ones in the whole park to do so:
The week before had been pretty average down this way and as we drove south we checked the conditions. As we expected it was average on our arrival, it was however predicted to clear up the next day. The clouds hung heavy in the sky the next morning but we were confident it would be OK and had already packed our gear the night before. So after a quick but tasty breakfast we drove up the sandy 4WD track out to Lost World. The track was a bit more cut up than last time and there was also a third washout forming. Taking it easy we got through ok and parked up at the slabs, only for it to start drizzling:
Instead of heading back down we decided to walk the rest of the track to scope out Mermaid Point. A place we were aiming to get too during the trip, but didn’t manage. Before our South Coast trip last year I had asked Kym if he knew what the track was like out that way, and he said it was supposed to be pretty bad. Sure enough as we walked out we came across some pretty big washouts, much more severe than what we had already negotiated so I was pleased to be on foot this time. When we hit the coast we finally realised that we had taken a wrong turn wrong, which was my bad:
The good news was that we hadn’t taken our packs, as being ever hopeful we assumed the clouds would lift and allow us to climb the slabs at Lost World. Only the top of the sand was wet and underneath it was dry, sadly however as we neared the car it was very clear that we wouldn’t have a hope on the slabs. The drizzle and mist was a sure sign they would be wet if not running with water making them impossible. So we had a decision to make… head back or shoulder our packs and walk out to Mermaid Point. The latter was what we chose, again walking in case the right track was equally washed out. It was a long walk, which we didn’t mind but we could have avoided it as the track was in great condition all the way:
On arrival we stood in awe and fright as we looked at the cliff. The rain, wind and waves were not helping with our nerves. It was time to sit down for a while and just take the location, situation and atmosphere in, while having a snack and drink. We then decided to scramble up the cliffs and have a closer inspection. The hard granite was clean but soaking wet, and even the scramble to get up the cliffs was a little unnerving. The scramble was necessary as to access this cliff you need to abseil in from above:
The sheer cliffs dropped straight into the ocean. It’s the sort of place that would normally fill us with excitement, finding it hard to decide who gets first lead as we would both be chomping at the bit. Today however weary from the walk, being cautious due to the conditions and taking into account the extreme remoteness of our location we were apprehensive. The forint face was also very steep and the occasional wave ran up the wall as if reaching out and saying do you dare. We had however made all this effort so decided to see how the rock climbed by starting on a couple of easy looking cracks up the slab:
Back down we scrambled to rack up and settle our nerves, before going back up to rig up an abseil and drop down. Rongy went first lead, picking the left hand route called Lauries coming in at an impressive grade 8. Like I said we were treating this place with the respect it demanded, and even at this lowly grade the route still felt like it had exposure and a sense of seriousness. We checked and double checked everything as we got ready on the belay ledge and finally he was off, taking his time and checking every hold once, twice and then a third time:
This is not a place that gets lots of attention and I dare say it is rarely visited by climbers, as it is an effort to get to. As such we were very prepared to come across loose rock and slowed our progress to take account of this, but we never did pull anything off. As Rongy worked his way up the route I sat there taking in the view, while the swell wasn’t crazy today it was still enough to make you pay attention. Each set that came in had one or two waves that would send a thundering crash of water that raged below my lofty perch. Needless to say I was securely tied in:
I followed up the first route of the trip, the rounded granite and flared cracks took a little getting used to and while the route was never too hard it was good fun and in a great position. We had already planned to rap back down to the same ledge from where I would tackle the line to the right up the middle of the slab. This one was called Ariel and was supposed to be harder at grade 10, but we both felt that the first route had more meat to it. We sat atop the slab and looked at the corners across from us, Rongy was showing signs of interest:
Those corners would have required double or triple sets of large cams due to the wide cracks, something we hadn’t brought. So his eye was instead drawn to Schämi Egge, a grade 18 open book corner. Yes it looked clean and impressive but it also look wet and the side walls were devoid of edges or features or worth. Indeed it proved to be a mighty challenge, and while we both got up it the style we sued was questionable at times. We were not put out by this and happy to have got up seeing it started to rain again, which made smearing on the wet smooth walls impossible. Sat above we pondered how it would climb in the dry, we both thought it would still be hard at the grade:
Being shattered from the physical nature of the last route we went back for more sustenance, and sat at our bags looking at the mighty wall. While we had both enjoyed the last climb in a masochistic kind of way, it didn’t feel like we should end on a route that had made us resort to methods neither of us would normally stoop. So it was my turn and I had the choice of a squeeze chimney or a route up the front face. Neither of us fancied a thrutch up some tight spots in these conditions, decision made and I went with the face. Rongy went down first to set up the belay and man was it exposed:
The wall loomed ominously above, slightly overhung making it hard to see what was coming our way. The ledge Rongy had found was in fact slightly offline but with the ocean and rock conditions it seemed the sensible place to start. The first steep wall was super exciting and adrenaline kicked in. The use of each hold, move and piece of gear was very deliberate and focused. Halfway up I reached a huge ledge that gave my arms a rest, while I pondered the original line. Again we didn’t have the gear required so I took an alternate crack, one seemingly unclimbed until today:
It was epic and we both got up it clean, making for a much better ending to the session. I had intended to climb Rat Tomago at grade 17 but due to the belay ledge chosen we climbed a line more to the left, or so the topo in the guide indicates. Reflecting on the route I would give it a grade of 15 or 16, in calm dry conditions and as for a name maybe Electric Avenue. You’ll have to read on to find out why. We both agreed that it was time to haul the packs again, but not before sitting on the perfect spectators ledge to take in this impressive place one last time:
There are a heap of lines that really looked so good and are very worthy a return trip. Quite a few are in the twenties, so we would need to come armed with appropriate gear, more stamina and strength, improved jamming techniques and/or practice, and hopefully better conditions. As we started to walk out we looked across the bay, and I wonder if anyone is game to guess where we had walked too when we had taken the wrong turning in the morning. The third image in this post may help in working it out, and needless to say we went a considerable way off track:
On the walk out we came across a few groups of what I believe are the caterpillars that will eventually become Bag-Shelter Moths. They are called Processionary Caterpillars and are often found walking in a long straight line nose to tail, but can also be found in these seemingly disorganised masses of squirming bodies. However, as you watch them they do move in a deliberate direction leaving any stragglers or wounded behind to the mercy of any prey daring enough to attempt to eat the very hairy things:
Well our first day had certainly not turned out as we had expected, and back at camp our legs were weary. Not surprising as we had walked at least 12km and quite possibly more, and while we hadn’t climbed a heap of routes it involved a lot of scrambling and mucking about. We were however hopeful tomorrow would turn out better, and the forecast was indicating a mostly sunny day. We had a choice of Lost World or Tombstones, and seeing the forecast hinted that Wednesday afternoon may become wet we decided on the latter. Packing the bags in readiness we were under the watchful eye of a friendly Bronze Wing Pigeon, who came across every time we sorted our gear:
Our rationale for using the better day for Tombstone was that this place also had a reasonable hike and on the last trip we walked out in the rain and got soaked to the skin. Literally everything was wet, and this time being under canvas we aimed to avoid that. Rongy had organised the meals on this trip and we ate well. A hearty meal was required after the long days out and we got into a routine when we got back to camp: a tea and Anzac biscuit, unpack, repack, shower, food and then hit the sack. Each evening it seemed to pass quickly and then up at 5:30 to make a cuppa, have a feed and hit the road:
Tombstone is amazing, which in part is why we came back here. It also offered some routes that could be sensibly climbed when wet, and these were the trad lines on the front or south facing slabs. When we arrived it was windy and cold so we headed for Heuco Gully, a steep overhanging west facing wall. Our thinking being that we would be protected from the easterly winds, sheltered from any rain that might come and more importantly to try the new routes Kym had established here. I started on Boomshakalaka a fun grade 17, and as I topped out and looked south my heart sank:
I got down and we pulled the rope so Rongy could lead the route, when the first drops fell. Getting heavier and heavier, so much so that water started to flow down the massive granite dome above us and cascade over the edge of the crag right down onto us. There was no escaping it and it felt like we were trapped in a waterfall. There was only one thing to do and that was to wait until it abated enough to make climbing a reasonable proposition, which eventually it did. Rongy headed up the route before cleaning it and then leading the next line:
Rip-it-up Ronnie was graded 18 and while never any harder technically, it was steeper and had some great flaky holds that you could sink your hands behind. Then as you bear down and out on them you hope that they stay put, and they do. Two lines in and we were keen for more, these routes were more like the climbing style we are used to making them more achievable in these conditions. Unlike the rounded flared cracks from yesterday. However the grades then take a sharp turn upwards, and the line that drew my attention was High n’Mighty at grade 23:
The line just looked like it wanted to be climbed, but with wet rock it may have been a little overoptimistic. While there were small, sharp and positive holds for your hands, which is something I really enjoy, the feet below at the start were smeary, which again I don’t mind. Granite sadly doesn’t soak up water and with the wet stuff being plentiful these small smears became slippery. I tried several times but the crux had me stumped, so I pulled past to a better hold, again like yesterday on the 18 stooping to tactics that I would normally frown upon. I was however pleased to manage the rest of route clean on lead, a solid line and very cool:
Rongy had watched me and decided he would rather have the rope above him, and equally found the crux in these conditions impossible but then also thoroughly rating the route. Nice work Kym! What next, well before coming back down Rongy had moved the rope to above Crash Bandicoot at grade 22. This allowed him to inspect the line and while he was tempted to lead it he decided on a top rope, only to find the crux on this line also had him stumped. Sharp, painful finger ripping holds needed to be fully weighed and hauled on, it was stinging but brilliant:
I decided to be sensible after watching and also top roped it, managing a clean ascent straight off the bat leaving me wondering… should I have led it? There was one route left but I had looked at the improbable crux sequence, and at a lofty grade 24 we left that for another day and headed back to the main west face where all the original routes are located. The lower wall here is shrouded in trees and gets no sun, and after the rain of the last few days and hours it was wet and slippery. But there was a route that I had talked up so much that Rongy felt he needed to give it a go:
Rodeos and Roughnecks, grade 21, was the last line Kym steered me toward after two days or hard climbing here some time back. The first traverse is pumpy and worse in these conditions as the smearing foot holds are all but useless to start with. Rongy was however not put off and while those smears temporarily halted him managed a great ascent, getting through the upper water runnel above the trees clean, while bathed in sunlight. I followed in similar style, but faltered on the runnel when one of the millimetre thin edges I was using popped resulting in me falling off and onto the safety of the rope above me:
I had a bash at starting a grade 20 called El Gringos burro, but the first bolt at 4-5m demanded the use of small soaking wet hand and foot holds that made it simply too dangerous. The good news was that the sky was now looking like the forecast had promised, mostly sunny. Time for a feed and relax before I sent Rongy up lead after lead on the south face. Having lead all of these routes before I was sure he would appreciate the opportunity to witness them with the rope below him. The first two pitches were also full trad so it was time to pull out the gear and decide what would be taken:
The first two pitches of Salvation are really good a solid grade 15 followed by a another fine grade 18 pitch. The day felt so much different now the rock was dry and the sun was not just warm but felt hot, so as Rongy worked his way up I hid under the shade of the trees. The initial flakes led to the rounded crack up and to the right of where he is. Getting into this is a little nervous and then you simply wedge yourself into it. Hands buried deep jamming and feet are awkwardly walked up behind also jammed into the crack. It’s quite a sight but the images just don’t do it justice:
Rongy loves jamming so ate the first pitch up and was beaming when I got to him, graciously offering me the next lead. Whether he was quietly hoping I’d say no I don’t know, but I also knew what was to come and so was happy for him to go first. A lovely finger crack leads right across the open slabs in a beautifully exposed position, but with all that friction is feels super secure. Then it heads up over weird jumbled flakes until the final corner soars above, I scared myself up it on lead but I never heard Rongy wince once:
He did at one point look over saying that he wished he had jamming gloves for the last part, something I had used when I led it. He then however romped up it, and as I followed he suggested laybacking the final section of the crack. More strenuous and harder to place gear but it did feel better than the sharp and awkward jams I had previously used. We sat atop for a while soaking up the glorious views, this crag has one of the most spectacular backdrops of all the crags I have climbed in Australia and I won’t ever tire of seeing it:
The last line for the day was a mixed route so required a bit of trad but most of it was bolted. Rongy had led the first half on our trip last year, and on that ascent was when the rain had started to come in. So he was keen to try it in better conditions today, that plus there is an equally impressive second half to the long 40m first pitch of Trident at grade 19. Our finger tips were starting to feel that tingling that indicated the skin could be pierced at any moment, while super grippy the granite crystals, flakes and edges from today had all been sharp:
This didn’t stop Rongy has he worked his way up all 40m, as I watched the clouds that blew over the top of this massive granite monolith, become increasingly darker. The air temperature also dropped and as Rongy battled against the weight of the twin ropes stretched below him, it wasn’t until he got to the belay that he noticed it. Regardless of what may come I was keen to follow up this line, it’s a pearler! This time with a rope above me it felt more sane and easier, but that is also why leading it more fun and it had been a top lead today:
Rapping back down it was time for more food before the walk out, and while the clouds came and went we were fortunate to get back without any rain. Better still since the mornings torrential downpour the vegetation was also dry, so we remained dry except for sweat as we trudged back up and down the gently undulated landscape. Back at camp and after checking the forecast we clicked into the routine and the evening was soon a distance memory, as our legs feeling the two days of hiking and climbing were grateful for being in a prone position:
Wednesday morning arrived and the sky was mostly clear, a welcome first. The kangaroos were grazing on the lush green grass of the new powered sites at the campground. This place like so many others has done well out of the hard boarders over the last year. With a steady stream of people “wandering out yonder” just as the state government had encouraged, while interstate or overseas travel was not an option. It has resulted in the place growing which can be good and bad in such a fragile environment, but I guess that is what they call progress:
Now while clear skies abound to the south, in the north dark clouds were looming much earlier in the day than we had anticipated. We had already discussed that this morning would be decision time, we had another night booked here and also a planned bush camp at a yet to be decided location. But Thursday and Friday didn’t look any better and in fact Thursday looked worse. A quick check of the weather radar showed big storms heading our way, so it was an easy decision and we packed the tent away while it was dry. We then loaded the car and decided we would still chance a climb or two at Lost World:
After negotiating the track again we watched the radar and monitored the clouds for a while, it seemed that the rain would head both east and west of us as they tracked on their southerly journey. On both sides of us bolts of lightning could be seen, but we never heard the clap of thunder indicating any thunderstorms were sufficiently far away. So we shoulders the prepacked rucksacks and walked in hopeful we might get four pitches in, and already had a game plan of lines in mind. We negotiated the maze of slabs and vegetated gullies to find the top of Whaling Wall:
Our intention was to start gently and then hit two harder pitches to round the trip off, two days earlier than expected. It took us a while to work out the right bolts to abseil off to get to the base of Could Street, the first time establishing off and starting to go down the wrong line. It’s all part of being out here, the climbing is just a small part of the journey and experience. So we had to pull the rope and set up on the right anchors, I went down first and found the bolts at the top of the first pitch uncertain whether a 50m rope would get me down to the next belay station:
Rongy joined me and went down a short way for a quick inspection, when the sky seemed to suddenly darken above us and rain started to fall. He came back up and I quickly got ready to climb out, the rain got heavier and heavier as I made my way up. I made use of the areas where larger crystals allowed some purchase. The friction on the finer grained areas was a hopeless cause, it was soaking wet. In the last half of the climb water started to run down the slabs and all friction seemed lost. The only way I would make it was to pull on a bolt to get a fingertip hold and from then on there were enough edges to allow me to get up:
Two thirds of the way up the rain was belting down so hard I couldn’t look upwards. A blinding flash came down instantly followed by a booming crack… the air sizzled. I quickly ran up the last section and set up the top belay. Rongy followed up as water streamed over the slabs and in the water runnel where the moss grew, a mini waterfall was in full flow. He too had to use just that one point of aid, it just seemed to be the way that this trip was going to be. So it was that we got to climb The Silver Lining, a fun grade 16 slab in probably some of the most electrifying conditions ever:
Everything was soaked to the point it was dripping. We stuffed it, along with all that dripping water, into our sacs. As we weaved back along the slabs to avoid the vegetation as much as possible the rain abated, and while the sky still looked dark and threatening we didn’t see or hear any more lightening or thunder. The sky was an amazing palette of greys with the distinct streaks of rain falling in the distance. The slabs were running with water and all hope of any more climbing was washed away:
At the car the rain had stopped overhead allowing us to get into some dry clothes. We took our time while the rain held off, taking in the dramatic, wild landscape and all water around us. Then it was time to negotiate the track one last time to descend back to the campsite, as we did so the rain came back and the track started to flow with water. Despite the damp conditions, wet gear and lack of climbing achieved we were both still buzzing from our experience that morning. We also reflected on the fact that this is the only trip the two of us have been on together, which we have had to bail early on due to the weather. Not a bad record really:
Back at the camp we parked near the kitchen, time to pump the tyres back up during another well timed break in the rain. We also made a brew and got a bunch of snacks out to keep us going for the first leg out our journey home. Loaded up we hit the road and felt reassured we had made the right decision in leaving. Especially when we drove for over an hour through belts of heavy rain with the occasional bolt of lightning, making its brief and dramatic appearance in the distance. In terms of climbing we may not have achieved much but in terms of taking on the elements we certainly gave it a good crack:
Just in case you were wondering why there was no post of my underwater adventures last weekend. I did head out but despite the water looking calm, underneath it was a whole other story. There had been some strong winds and swells, up to 4m, in Geographe Bay and the outcome being there was very poor visibility. Weed was floating everywhere. I wasn’t sure if it was worth staying out, but I preserved consciously keeping a bit closer to shore than I would normally. I knew I wouldn’t see anything it did however feel nice to have had a dip:
Yesterday, having been two weeks since I have had any new underwater discoveries I was keen to get out. The weekend also happened to be a three day one with Monday being a public holiday. The swell had been lower all week so I was hopeful and even better it was looking flat when I wandered down in the morning. I noticed a dark shape bobbing about just off shore, which was a dead Sea Hare. I’ve only once come across one of these alive, unfortunately I don’t have the images from that dive in a post to show you but they are very graceful creatures:
The problem with Sea Hares is that they are poisonous to dogs, and this one was heading to shore on a public holiday when the caravan park was full and lots of people were already out and about with their dogs. I left the Sea Hare bobbing about in the shallows, and went in. Above the sky had a covering of clouds that kept hiding the sun for periods of time, so the visibility while reasonable flipped and flopped between great and ok’ish. Regardless of this it felt good being back in the water and feeling like it was worth staying out. I spied numerous fish, mostly the usual suspects:
I also found the above shoal, which was swimming with a shoal of small Western Pomfred. As I approached all the Western Pomfred peeled off and put distance between me and them. These fish did not however seem as fussed. They are all juvenile bullseye, mostly Rough Bullseye but there is one that stood out with its black and yellow pelvic fins. This one is a juvenile Bigscale Bullseye. What is interesting is that bullseye when fully grown hide in dark caves and are quick to run, but these juveniles seemed more at ease in the relative open water and with me poking my camera at them:
I stayed out for a long time just enjoying watching the fish and not bothering to chase them for a snap. I was however curious with what looked like a clump of Slimy Bags, but the shorter length and speckled colouration made it obvious it was something different. Diving down I noticed the opening at each tip and some had small yellow tentacles protruding. It is called Zoanthus Robustus although I have not been able to find out any more information about it, so I am not sure if it is like a filter feeder or an anemone:
As I came out from my morning dive, unbeknown to me, I was followed by a couple of reasonable sized rays. I didn’t spot them until I had taken my mask and flippers off, and while I managed to get my mask on to take a quick look at them they didn’t hang about. So knowing that the rays are about, as a heap of people on the beach told me they had seen lots of them, I decided on a second dip in the afternoon. The water was again flat and calm, allowing a couple of Oystercatchers to probe into the sand for a feed:
The water seemed to have stirred up a bit since the morning and there wasn’t as much to see. So in view of having provided you with a few of the more unusually sea urchins I’ve come across this season, below is the most common. The Purple Sea Urchin will often not be purple and can be white to grey in colour. This one did however have spines with a beautiful purple tip. Like the Western Slate Pencil Urchin I usually find these in little hollows, but somehow these ones manage to maintain sharp points at the end of the their spines. While there wasn’t anything else to report it was a nice dive:
Monday arrived. A public holiday and one of the few that isn’t merged in with a school holiday, so Lisa was able to enjoy it without feeling a little aggrieved. The painter has returned to our place to finish off the last of the work from our plumbing leak in October last year. So we once more have numerous rooms packed in boxes and furniture again randomly scattered round the house. Why is this relevant, well the painter had decided that they wanted to work today and we were after all keen to get the job done. So regardless of the weather we were keen to get out of the house:
The clouds from yesterday were intensifying and a threat of rain was on the way for later in the day. A stiff seaward breeze was also present and it felt chilly but Geoff, Nana and Ben were keen to get out so we all drove along the beach past the river mouth. The beach was starting to change, the sand didn’t look that flat, gently sloping, clean white that we come to expect in summer. It was more rutted and weed was springing up here and there, mounds of sea weed were forming along the water’s edge and where it wasn’t present the beach had a steeper angle into the water:
All a sign of the changing seasons, and indeed today was the first day of Autumn. The water also felt chilly when we went in, at least Geoff and I felt so. The others may not have through so as Nana trying out her new wetsuit, covered head to toe, while Ben looked like a pro all decked out. As the images above show the visibility, despite the clouds wasn’t too bad. Close to shore it was murky and grim, but further out it cleared up and there was lots to see. Again mostly the usual suspects of rays, sea stars, sand gobblers, fish and a stunning array of weeds that looked like a floral garden:
While there wasn’t much new that I saw, I was chuffed to come across my second Estuary Catfish. Unlike the first one I had seen, this one really didn’t want me looking at it. As soon as I saw it, it frantically swam round looking for a place to fully conceal itself. It was so fast that I’m a little surprised I managed to get a reasonable snap of it. It really didn’t take long for it to be hidden from sight. That seemed to the way of this dive, everything was in a hurry to get away and hide. Despite being out for over an hour I took the least number of images I can recall in a single, good visibility, dive:
I did however come across the above fish, one that I have seen previously as it quickly hops about clinging on to the more exposed rocky reef. It is no more than 80mm long and extremely well camouflaged. I thought it may be a goby, but now feel that it is probably a Common Threefin. These are often mistaken for gobies but what distinguishes them is a more pointed snout and also the pectoral fins are divided into two fins. Soon after snapping the above image I headed back through the near shore murky waters, keen to get a hot tea down me:
I was the first back and usually I am the last to come back in. Lisa hadn’t gone out for a dive, in part as it would have been way too cold for her plus we had taken to poodles. Nana came in next and said she was still toasty warm, so the new wetsuit was a hit. Then Geoff came in with quite literally blue hands, shortly followed by Ben who like Nana looked like he hadn’t noticed the cold. We had found some good ground today and we all hoped Autumn would ease in slowly, allowing us the opportunity to come back out and explore again maybe with the sun above us if we are lucky:
The mural on Wellington Dam was officially unveiled a week back, and today being the start of a long weekend there would no doubt be an onslaught of tourist driving by to take a look. Being still early as I rolled past, I had the place to myself so I took a couple of quick snaps. I have to say it looks pretty good, and I like the way the images have been made to look like they are on canvases. This may be a detail that you struggle to see in the low resolution copy of my image below, in which case you will just have to make a trip here yourself. If you are reading this from interstate or overseas and keen let me know and can send some full resolution images:
My reason for heading back to Welly Dam was that I had tried to organise a bit of a social catch-up. This was on the basis that there has been an influx of new people joining the local South West WhatsApp chat group and I thought it would be good way to get to know them all. The call out hadn’t resulted in the response that I thought it may have, and as such only a few familiar people ended up coming along, being Mikey, Howsie and Andrew. Despite Welly Dam having proven to be pretty tough for Andrew, just a few weeks back, he was keen to come along and had arranged for a mate to also join in. So until his mate, who had climbing experience, arrived he pottered about taking images:
Howsie was on a timeline, the aim was to be on the road by 10:30. It didn’t give us lots of time, and does to some extent result in a changed head space needing to check the clock to ensure our enthusiasm didn’t take over and make him late. We started sensibly on Welcome to Edges to warm up, but even this would have been too tough for Andrew with its bouldery start. As I hung at the anchors getting ready to clean the route Mikey was looking up at the climb to the right, Attack of the March Flies. He had been looking at it during our last trip here and liked the aesthetics of the line. Howsie and I encouraged him to give it a go, and I’m sure from our overly exuberant support that Mikey had an inkling of what to expect:
He was attempting this route ground-up, and with no prior knowledge was going to be great to watch. In the lower potion he moved well but the crux at mid height blocked his path. It took a bit of figuring out but he eventually working his way through that, before having a rest at a stance below the steep flake feature where it gets pretty pumpy. As you’ll see from the image above and below he got a bit warm on this route and so discarded his jumper. Each time the same spot was reached, as shown above. Sometimes he down-climbed from here but most times he fell. It was a solid effort with some decent falls as the video will show, but eventually he became complete gassed and conceded defeat:
The last clip before the anchors is the scariest part of the route, and he hadn’t managed to get the draw on it. So Howsie and I looked at each other, not quite staring each other down but there was definitely a mind game going on. We had both been so keen to lead it, with the draws in but now it was a whole new ball game. I gave in and went up next next, stuffing up the mid-section but cruising the pumpy upper part. Howsie then pulled the rope, and with the security of all the draws in may a methodical and steady clean ascent. All thought of the clock had seeped away during all the excitement but our second route had eaten away a hour of our time:
It was my choice next and I already knew what it would be, and I knew full well it may end up being another route that would gobble up time. Flight Simulator had only just beaten me the last time I took it on, but today I managed to get it clean. This time I was more clinical and not anywhere near as vocal as previously, there was however some heavy breathing to get me through. Howsie went next, and like his ascent of Attack of the March Flies he was looking methodical and steady… until he got to where I am in the above image. Each time he attempted to reach the next clipping stance something in his head held him back. Resulting in him going up and down like a yo-yo but still in control as he down climbed:
Each time it sapped a bit more strength and energy, and each time his head did the same thing and he seemed to freeze in time and stay there motionless unable to attempt to make the next clip. We eventually encouraged him to really go for it, with the not surprising result. The ropes were certainly getting a big workout today. Like on Attack of the March Flies this sequence will give you plenty of air time if you slip off before getting the next clip. This process was repeated several times before it was Howsie’s turn to concede defeat, that said he had been battling this route for half an hour. Andrew seemed quite happy to be taking images and kicking back, his mate was so far a no show and there was little point in trying out routes:
Andrew also didn’t seem too interested in having a boulder along the base, which is a great way to get used to the rock and climbing style here. So he chilled out on the well placed boulder and watched Mikey have a bash. With having had plenty of time to recovered from his previous route, he set up looking confident. He will however be the first to admit that he is lacking stamina. Due to having not climbed outdoors for a long time, and only having done a bit of bouldering. While stamina may be his weak point the bouldering has given him strength, technique and a go for it attitude, which was certainly on display today:
He made short work of the first half getting to the same place as Howsie. From this point the main difference being that he only reversed the moves once before launching into it. In the image below he is at the clipping stance, holding onto a flat sloper with just enough texture to gain a friction hold. After working all the moves below your arms are pretty tried at this point, making what seems like a big hold feel insecure. This is where Mikey popped off once, twice and then I lost count. He did eventually crack it and managed to get to the anchors, avoiding the need for me to repeat the line. And another hour had been eaten away:
We were certainly not moving at the usual pace of our before work climb sessions, and we now had less than an hour left before it was time to pack up. This helped us decide on a couple of more gentle climbs, both to avoid a late departure but also to allow the boys to get a clean lead in. I pointed Howsie to BBQ, a route that has perplexed him in the past but one he should be capable of climbing. He managed a clean ascent and never looked to be struggling with his head, so it was a great way to sort himself out after the last route. Mikey was however all over the place, moving erratically and slapping for holds so not even getting to the first bolt before deciding to give it a miss:
He did however give the final route a crack, Savage Sausage Sniffer. Another one that we know well enough and is at a grade that it really shouldn’t chew up too much time. I led it so the draws were in to make it a little easier for the boys, as they were both keen to pull the rope and led it. Mikey managed to get all the way to below the final anchors, and only had to unlock the locally famous Mikey Pinch hold. A hold that he had discovered when he on-sighted this route and since then has made it so much more sane for the rest of us. Today’s workout was taking its toll and the result was his mind becoming addled and his body exhausted. Although so close to the end he just couldn’t finish it off:
That just left Howsie to wrap the morning off, and looking at the clock we knew he would have to make an efficient accent. So I suggested that I would only keep him on belay for 3min and 45 seconds, which was a randomly selected length of time that just happened to pop into my head. It is strange how I occasionally suggest dumb ideas like this and yet people just seem to roll with them. I was instructed to put him on belay only once he had clipped the first bolt, settled his mind and then started to move. Andrew was the timekeeper and we all watched the clock for one last time, counting down the seconds and being mightily impressed when Howsie made it up and secured himself to the anchors with 13 seconds to spare:
After a few weeks of hitting the bolted walls at Welly Dam it was time to get back onto the coastal crags for a bit of trad. There was a bit of committing and bailing to heading out by a certain party, and in the end Craig did join Jamie and I on a trip to Moses Rocks. I’d checked the conditions and knew it may be a wee bit damp due to the swell and wind direction. And as we arrived the forecast proved correct, the rock was wet but that has never dampened our mood at Moses where due to the friction you can climb in all conditions:
I’d already decided to head towards Rumpole’s Rocks, but as we wandered down that way Craig and I agreed it was finally time for us to repeat our two routes called Tweedle Dumb and Tweedle Dee. I doubt anyone else has ever been on them, and on the first ascent Craig was having an off day, backing off Tweedle Dumb until he had reset his focus and then finishing it off. They are both short, not too hard and hidden in a mass of rock, which is why I doubt anyone has ever done them:
While not hard they are both steep towards the top, some would say they have an overlap or bulge. But to Jamie they were overhangs, something she is not particularly keen on and quick to believe in her mind that she can’t get up. Craig is however a patient and encouraging person and while she looked a little concerned, Jamie managed to get up the first route after Craig who also managed to get it first hit. Then after I led Tweedle Dee she got up that one too, looking a little less concerned but still not 100% believing that she could do it:
After the warm up routes it was time to get to the higher walls at Rumpole’s Rocks. With no agenda for today Craig wandered along and looked up to see what tickled his fancy, and deciding on Chillies and Garlic. This route is more vertical in nature and never feels like an overhang, and it was interesting to watch Jamie cruise up it with relative ease despite being four grades harder than either of the first two routes. It really goes to show how much climbing is a mind game:
For difficulty of climbs we normally attempt I’ve always considered that, as long as you are reasonably fit and have a bit of climbing experience, a good mental attitude will result in someone giving most climbs a good crack. While physical strength does come into it, but good technique can get you a long way without needing to be able to do a pullup. Everyone who has climbed with me will have heard me to tell them to use their feet, but the second most important part is using your core. Body position is so important to keep the weight on your legs, they are after all the biggest and strongest muscles we have:
Jaime did well following me up Yogurt, other than her and Craig ganging up on me about pronunciation and how yogurt “should” be said. This route did however have a bit more of a sustained overlapping section and it was good to see this it didn’t faze Jaimie. The next route that Craig chose was however a different story. Olive Oil starts steep but then requires you to us your arms to get established over the small rooflet. Great handholds are on offer but you have to get your left foot high and then rock over onto it. Her head started to get rattled from the start, it does after all look ominous even though Craig made it look easy:
While Jamie managed to get the bomber handholds, and also established her left foot up high, she really struggled with the rockover. Instead each time she got her foot up she slunk down on her arms losing any height advantage. Despite her repeated attempts obviously sapping her strength, Craig nor I were going to give up no her. I felt we may have been close to crossing the line the last time we encouraged her to give it one more crack. But with a bit of advice on keeping the momentum going and not relaxing when her left foot was up, she pulled it off:
She then continued in a determined nature up the headwall above and after that it was time for a well-deserved break, and to help with the recuperation a welcome cuppa. While there was a bit of a swell and the salt spray was intense, the tide was reasonably low and the base of the crag at least was not being lapped by the ocean. The wind was however now starting to turn, blowing the salt spray like a mist from the south across the face of the crag. It also resulted in the wind hitting the base of the crag dropping to nothing allowing the mossies to attack in full force:
I headed up Jugs Galore. The steep start was putting Jamie off from giving it a bash, but we somehow got her tied in. She was soon reaching up and looked to relax that bit and just go for it, managing all the moves between the route’s namesake jugs. Craig picked the most southerly route called Finger Licking. I belayed him pointing out the moves he was making to Jamie, and there were no signs of her flinching and saying she would pass this one by. After she had got past the bottom hard moves, I then turned my attention to a rock pool in which some fish had been trapped:
I’d spotted these fish earlier, but the pool was in the shade cast by the crag. With the sun well and truly high in the sky now I couldn’t resist sitting there for a while to watch them again. When I turned my attention back to the crag, Jamie was making her way up the headwall. I’d like to think that our little chats about having a relaxed and chilled attitude to climbs that might feel hard and focusing on some basics such as footwork, engaging core muscle groups, conserving your arms till you really need them, and going for it when you decide to start a difficult looking section was paying off:
For my last climb I had a bash at a way through the rooflet that Craig had spied. A thin rounded crack with no obvious horizontal breaks. I couldn’t recall having climbed it before, but looking up felt I could see a way to get up it. Jamie took the camera and took heaps of images, while I attempted varying approaches to use the shallow finger locks to pull towards the wall above. I had no idea of how I would get my feet established if I did make it. Up and down I went, too many times to count, and my fingers were getting sore from the jams. So I offered the rope to Craig and he too came across the same difficulties:
I almost managed to work a sequence when Craig handed the rope back to me but it was not to be and we decided that it was just a bit too hard. I‘ve checked the guide and there are no recorded routes up this crack, and so we will have to return to bag it another day. Preferable a dry day. Needless to say Jamie declined our offer to have a go on lead, I mean it was the gentlemanly thing to do before we pulled the rope on it. She was quite happy to be behind the lens, and as we pondered what I would lead instead she wandered off to watch the waves:
Burning Both Ends was my pick and that is a bit how I felt as I worked my way up this route. A fitting end to the day, climbing yet another fine traditional line up the tallest part of the crag. Craig will be interested to hear this route was graded 17, and was set before we started to visit this area. While it felt nervous today, we both agreed 15 was more appropriate relative to the other routes here. But at the end of the day it is more about where your mind is at as opposed to a grade or two difference, and after our morning’s outing we were all definitely feeling good:
Sandbagged 