Weighing up the risk

With a cyclone bearing down on the northern parts of Western Australia a weather change was on the cards for us too.  Clouds were forming in the sky, the temperature was dropping by double digits, the winds however were not changing and if anything seemed to be less intense that previous weeks.  I chanced a dip in at Wave Walk yesterday but due to the cloud and a bit of a swell visibility was horrendous.  I stayed in hoping to chance across something worth reporting about but came out without having snapped a single image, which is a first:

Today it was a much clearer sky and there was but a whisper of wind, so I went down to our local beach.  The beach sported two new and very visible signs warning people where they could and couldn’t take their vehicles.  I’m guessing, as I type this, that the beach will be overrun with 4WDs and big family setups.  No doubt everyone will be doing the traditional trip to the water on Australia Day.  While it would have been good to wait probably an hour for the sun to get a bit higher in the sky, the high probability of crowds was a good reason to head down early:

The beach was already starting to fill up with cars coming down, and it looked like at least one party had spent the previous night camped here.  Underwater the visibility was way better than the previous day, but with a relatively low sun the light was struggling to penetrate the water.  As I crossed the initial sandy patch I spotted the shape of a Western Shovel Nose Ray, blending is beautifully with the sand.  I dove down a couple of times to have a closer look but tried not to disturb him too much:

When the visibility isn’t so great the water feels so much deeper.  Admittedly it was three hours past high tide, and the encroachment of a full moon was making the tidal variation more pronounced.  But even with the greater tidal range is only a matter of a metre. The low sun was sending its rays down and they were reflecting of the sediment that was floating about in the water.  A swell was still about but it had eased off from yesterday.  So with little chance of seeing much from above it was time to start going down for a closer inspection:

There wasn’t too much to see, the nooks and crannies all looked quiet and while I saw a few fish there was nothing particular exciting.  Also when the light is low trying to get any decent images under the ledges is pretty well impossible.  It is about time however that I included a picture of the one fish that without doubt I am guaranteed to see on every dive.  The Banded Sweep is quite a large heavy set fish.  They will follow me round no doubt hoping that I will dislodge some food, as I unintentionally but at times unavoidably disturb the sediment:

Yesterday due to the water not looking great and thinking I might not be in for long I didn’t bother with a wetsuit.  Entering the water it normally best to just dive in rather than slowly creep out as the water inches up your body.  But the water had felt so much warmer, almost bath like.  So today I didn’t bother with a wetsuit and again it felt warm.  I have mentioned that I am starting to see more shoals of baby fish, which I should technically call juvenile fish.  And I wonder if the water warming up might be partially responsible:

I find the above variety bobbing about near the top of the weed.  Allowing me to dive down and come up from underneath to get much clearer images.  With a small round silvery abdomen and transparent tail, they seem so different from the juvenile Western Gobbleguts that I find hiding under rock shelves (below).  The body of the fish below being silvery with black dots starting to form along their sides, making them easy to identify.  That said in the image above the distinct black spot at the tail and similar eyes makes me think they too are Western Gobbleguts just younger:

Maybe I haven’t been l noticing it in previous years, but the weed this year has got lots of nodule like growths on it. The 3-5cm, light brown, knobbly growths almost looks like an infection.  A bit like when a fungus is growing out of a tree trunk.  As yet I have not got a clue as to what it may be and whether it is or is not a sign of poor health.  I’m hoping not as if the weed starts to suffer most of the life I get to see would likely move to other areas.  Something for me to check on QuestaGame and report back on:

As I scoured the weed I came across two collections of eggs.  Initially passing them off as Southern Calamari Squid eggs, the same as those I recently found off Higgins Cut.  Those were confirmed as Southern Calamari Squid eggs using QuestaGame. These however where not straight cylindrical shaped, but instead looking like one of those oddly shaped long balloons that narrow and then widen out multiple times.  I think these may be Bigfin Reef Squid Eggs, and will test my theory using QuestaGame to see if I am right:

Despite only being in my boardies I wasn’t feeling cold, but I was approaching the 45min mark and we were due to head to the neighbours for breakfast.  Time to head in, and as I usually do I took a leisurely pace scouring the sand.  I was again rewarded finding a Sparsely Spotted Stingaree, and this time I did duck dive down several times and get close.  The thing that fascinates me most about rays being their eyes, and I wonder how well they can see and what I look like to them:

I was obviously not completely terrifying as I headed down several times and got really close.  I persisted and kept going down I must have become sufficiently annoying, as it finally decided to swim off.  Based on its rate of departure, which was not fast, I would say I was more of a nuisance than a threat.  I was however warry as I headed back to shore, yesterday a stinger got me across my chest and I didn’t fancy a repeat performance.  While not around in great numbers they are starting to become more abundant:

Join the queue

The group of climbers on our South West WhatsApp group has had a bit of a growth spurt recently, and this includes a few new to climbing and a number of non-trad climbers.  A few of these people have expressed an interest in trying trad climbing, and I’ve put it out there that I’m happy to show them the ropes so to speak.  Ash is one of those people.  Previously a sport climber, currently a boulderer and with his sights on adding trad climbing to round off his climbing skills.  And this morning we found ourselves at Wilyabrup to get the ball rolling:

When I picked him up I wasn’t so sure how we would go, a stomach bug had plagued him over the last three days resulting in him lacking energy.  During the walk in he trailed behind Jaime and I and was not looking the best.  Still when we got to the base of the crag and I pointed him to the first lead I had in mind, he willingly pulled on the harness and racked up.  Now I mentioned he was a previous sport climber and now a boulderer, so I picked Setting Sun as the first route.  Because it starts as a bit of a boulder problem, and Mario please note I am actually spotting him:

There is then a line of three bolts that leads up the steep wall, and only after then there is a need to use some trad gear in a horizontal break before ascending the top slabby wall.  This allowed him to feel comfortable with leading and only need to use trad for a small section.  Before he set off there was a quick lesson in placing cams, and he placed two in the break for me to inspect.  The key things I had mention was not to over-cam them so they would be hard to get out, consider direction of fall and make sure they don’t walk in by extending them:

I’m happy to report both of his cams were well placed and I was confident they would hold a fall, so much so that I fell on them myself to prove to him they were good.  While they would always hold my fall there are two faults in both placements and I wonder who will spot them.  Once on top it was time to show Ash what to consider in setting up a belay.  First and foremost in case the second falls have bomber gear, keep the system tensioned and make sure it is directional.  Secondly but for me equally important are to make sure it is a comfortable belay stance and that whenever possible you can see the person following you up:

As part of all these instructions and tips, there was the rope work to talk about.  I love the double figure of eight or bunny ears and that was the first knot I showed him, next being a clove hitch.  With these two knots you can set up a system that is easy to adjust from your harness without needing to walk back and forth to your anchors.  All this takes time and it is hard not to overload and confuse people, but Ash seemed to have a good grasp of the concepts and was taking it all in.  But we were here to learn trad, so next up was a full trad lead:

Not only was Ash being a great sponge, soaking up all my advice, but he was starting to perk up.  Energy levels may still be lacking from the last three days but he was relaxed and mentally happy to be leading, which in some ways is more important than having the energy.  Twenty Questions was a good next route, easier than the first bolted line and plenty of opportunity for gear placements, whether wires, hexes or cams.  Being Ash’s first full trad lead it was time to talk about the carcass catcher, the first piece needing to be directional not only for a fall but also the position of the belayer, so both downwards and outwards:

This is so important to avoid the zipper effect should the leader take a fall.  The rope tensions all the way down and if the belayer is stood back a bit, as they most often do, this can result in the first piece popping out.  I’ve seen this happen when every piece bar the very top one has popped, which is very scary and highly undesirable.  Ash of course had no trouble with the climbing and also managed to mostly place appropriately spaced gear, he also set up his own belay system perfectly.  My only criticism when I topped out was that he had run out the top a little, due in part to it being so easy:

I was presently surprised by his carcass catcher, a solid cam in a horizontal (above).   This time the errors of the first cams he placed had been rectified, the outer lobs pointing downwards making it a more stable placement and the extender connected to the sling and not the plastic loop.  Indeed all of his cams were great, none were over-camed and all bar one was directional.  He hadn’t however used any passive gear, so the next choice of climb needed to be carefully thought about to make sure he had lots of opportunities to use wires:

My initial thought was Hope, a steady grade with heaps of wires opportunities.  However, this would be the third lead on the trot and taking into account Ash was not 100% I felt a shorter line was required.  The obvious one being Left Hand Crack, no end of gear opportunities but also bumping up the grade a bit.  Before he set off there were more instructions on wire placements.  Looking to make sure there is good contact on both sides, the rock is solid, the wires are preferably deep, the chance that the wires popping out is reduced by making sure they are well seated, and of course making sure they are directional:

One more instruction was given before he set off, and that was to make he used wires or hexes first and only resorted to the use of cams when he was really stumped.  The first five pieces were wires, and then he reached the meat of the climb.  The crack steepens as the footholds become smaller and the moves become trickier and more sustained.  It was time for a bit of yo-yoing, a common sight for leaders getting nervous.  He went up and down numerous times, eventually deciding to place a cam to give him the confidence to move up:

He also placed a wire above that.  Then with a good three meters of climbing ahead of him he didn’t look to be checking for anymore gear opportunities.  By his movements I could tell he was considering to continue to the top.  I knew that there was an awkward top out, so started to become nervous as he surged upwards.  I moved closer to the wall to reduce how much rope was paid out and preparing myself to catch a fall.  It thankfully never came, even when near the top his foot slipped, but fortunately he held on and composed himself before topping out:

If he had slipped off it would have been 5-6m fall, and I had a bit of a word with him about it afterwards.  Ash replied saying that as he was going up, he could hear a voice in his head and it was me telling him to look for a gear placements.  I had to laugh as I was actually thinking it, but didn’t want to shout up to him, and distract him while he was so focused on the moves.  That aside every wire placement was bomber being well seated and directional and having good contact.  A top lead and I do hope he is pleased with it:

The only reason I considered putting him up it is that I know he is capable of far harder moves.  That said when you climb trad even the strongest of boulderers or sport climbers can crumble under the mental strain of having to place and more importantly trust own gear.  Even when the moves are ten grades lower than what they can climb.  Ash was now, and not really surprisingly, looking exhausted.  So I offered to lead one last route to allow him to check my gear.  Jaime was also done.  She handed the camera back to me before heading out and leaving us to the obvious choice of Hope:

I was a little surprised when Ash had suggested climbing out with packs, I’m of course well accustomed to this so was more than happy to.  So off I set saying that in view of this being a chance for him to inspect my gear I would lace the route with 15 bits of gear, all wires.  As it was I only managed 12 bits on route, any more would have been plain ridiculous.  He was slow following me up.  Maybe because he was tiring, the sun was on us, or due to all the gear he had to get out.  As he topped out he said never again, and my heart dropped as I thought I had put him off trad climbing:

Thankfully not and he is keen for more, but he hated climbing with a pack on and swore never to suggest it again.  Now while due to clever photography the images do not show many other people around it was certainly busy here.  We started with an empty crag but by the time we were ready to leave all the usual classic lines were being attempted.  It was the first time ever that I have had to wait for a couple to finish top roping Hope before we could climb it and then, as Ash prepared to second up, for another party to start setting up below us to lead it.  It was definitely time to depart:

The brass band

The easterlies looked to be easing after another bout of strong winds so Lisa, Geoff, Esky and myself decided on a local snorkel off Wave Walk.  Yesterday, as I returned home from climbing, I had taken a quick detour to check what was happening with the water and from my vantage point while it was a little choppy it looked crystal clear.  This morning it didn’t look the same but we put that down to the morning sun not being high in the sky.  When it is higher is penetrates the water and rebounds of the white sand to provide an amazing aqua-blue:

The forecast suggested today would start with a southerly, so off shore wind, which made us think it may have been nice and flat.  The wind wasn’t due to turn till mid-morning, but the signs were already there for a change to occur and the ripples were beginning to form.  However, we were there and it looked invite, so with a positive attitude we suited up to go in.  This was to be Lisa’s first snorkel of the season, and as such it took a little more work to wash the toothpaste out of her mask.  It was put on last season and since then had hardened up, being now a bit on the stubborn side to rinse off:

The water was clear and I set off on my usual tour of the reef, which is just a short distance off the shoreline.  Scouring the weed as the gentle, but ever present, swell was pushing it back and forth.  It was just enough to stir up a bit of the sediment.  As I looked around small shoals of baby fish started to appear, Elongated hardyheads, Bullseye and Western Pomfrey.  These are signs of what I would normally expect to see in December, as the snorkelling season kicks off.  Banded Sweeps, Goatfish, Green Wrasse, Herring Cale and other usual suspect popped up here and there, but not in great numbers:

There was also a small school of Herring and then Western Striped Trumpeter fish swam past, they were heading towards the others and I hoped Lisa would see them.  The reef felt more asleep compared to my previous trips here, so I ventured further out.  Across another deeper patch of sand and towards the next bank of weed.  The water was deeper and it was harder to see the tell-tale signs of something unusual.  The reef came up a bit in places and I duck dived down to check under shelves and in caves but nothing unusual showed up:

I did however notice that there seemed to be a lot more excrement floating about in the water.  I do occasionally see this, but today it looked to be abundant so I kept a keen eye out for what may be about.  A larger school of Herring drifted past, but not in the numbers required to generate all the waste floating around me.  Then I noticed what looked like a storm cloud (above).  This was a massive school of Western Striped Trumpeters, thousands and thousands of them:

They were all tightly knit together with those in the middle heading down to the bottom to scour the weed for a feed, making it look like a mushroom cloud.  Unafraid of my presence I got closer and they were happy for me to swim through them and if I stopped they would circle round me blocking out the light.  As I did so they lost the cloud formation and spread out and it wasn’t until then that I realised just how many there were.  It’s a shame they were not making the sound from which they get their name isn’t louder, as it would have sounded amazing:

It felt like I spent ages diving in, under, over and round these fish and took a few videos, two are linked below. Eventually popped my head up and I could see the other three were either heading in or back at the beach.  I started to make my way in but before I got to far I looked back, the big shoal looked to be regrouping into a cloud formation.  Leaving them behind the wind had well and truly turned and the water was getting choppy.  I kept a watchful eye out but nothing else was to be seen, again the reef seemed to be asleep.  No matter, it was lovely to get my head under water and the conditions over the next few days are looking promising:

“C’mon arms, do your stuff”

It’s the last Friday that I will be taking off during my work a four day week January, and Rongy and Jaime joined me for a climb and hopefully snorkel down at Cosy Corner.  As we were driving down, at what Jaime suggested was something akin to “stupid o’clock”, I was trying to tally up how many times I had climbed here.  This would be my ninth trip, and it is probably fair to say it is the place I have climbed least in the South West.  No real reason other than it is a bit further to drive and there aren’t stacks of routes, but every time I come here I love it:

My initial intention for today had been to head to Moses Rocks, but Rongy piped up that he was in Karridale so couldn’t join us but might be able to sneak an early morning climb at Cosy Corner.   We picked Rongy up as we passed through Karridale and pulled up at our destination at 5:30.  It was evident from climbing in the Zawn at Moses Rocks and then Smiths Beach that Jaime really enjoyed being close the ocean, so I naively thought this place would be right up her alley.  However, without really thinking about it we rapped down to climb the Escape Hatch:

The rap down was fine, but maybe a bit more warning that we would be belaying off a narrow ledge with nothing but a 15m drop straight into the ocean below would have been nice.  But as with most of the situations we have thrown at her, she took it in her stride.  It was evident as we rapped down that despite all the hot 30 plus degree days we have been having the rock was damp.  I thought at the time it may have been the rain that came through a few days back, but the observation history indicates this area only got a few millimetres:

What with the wet rock Rongy led back out up the Escape Hatch at a very cautious pace, and looked to be shaking out a bit more than I would expect on a grade 16 route.  Without mentioning it I was getting a bit nervous as to how Jaime would go.  The whole situation of the exposed belay ledge, wet rock and having watched Rongy not struggle but having to be so careful must have been a bit an unsettling.  While the crux move proved a challenge she did really well and worked her way higher and higher, even managing the steep moves up the final wall:

Due to the wet rock we pondered what would be the best next route, some of the lines here are fairly steep and the conditions added a bit of spice.  The easier lines here were probably a bit too easy so we stuck with our plan to hit the routes in the middle of the gade range.  The rap rap line was moved across and we went back down, with my sights set on Loose Lip.  This also meant that the next belay ledge was palatial in comparison and we could spread ourselves out, enjoying the view in a far more relaxed and comformtable position:

The water below was looking reasonably clear but the swell and choppiness, created by a stiff onshore wind, was making us have doubts about getting in.  While sections of the route certainly still had a nice sheen to it, at least the rock didn’t seem as bad this time.  I got the impression that I was lacing the route up, but looking back at the images the gear seems evenly spaced.  Thin flakes and edges were the style for the first half to two thirds of this and the last climb, before then launching up on bigger holds up the final headwall:

Despite the tiring arms that we got to hear about several times, being blamed in part to the Wednesday evening boulder sessions that had only just started back up this week, Jaime was looking comfortable and making good progress.  This was hampered at the crux, by the long reach and wet rock but all was forgiven as the holds got bigger as she topped out.  With a rope above Rongy, like myself on the first route, glided up without any great difficulties.  We were however unsure whether to go back down and whether someone’s arms would be up for it:

Seeing the rap rope was set up and rock had felt a little better we decided to go back down.  Jaime hinting that she could just watch and take images, and she did both as Rongy worked his way back up.  For a broken and fractured looking crag every line here really is a lot of fun and has a unique character.  This one is no different, but with someone’s arms in mind I was thinking that it is also is a little easier and not quite as steep.  That was until Rongy decided to take a slightly different approach and layback up a huge flake:

Indecision, was probably a good name for this route when I established it, as it does allow for a few varied approaches before headwall.  Rongy’s choice was less technical than stepping left and climbing up the face but it was equally good fun.  While it looked powerful, by using good layback techniques it yielded reasonably easy.  And despite Jaime’s concerns she romped through it, yes we did manage to convince her to have a go.  This flake was also a great prelude to the final layback crack up the headwall, which we were advised had sapped most of the last enthusiasm her arms could muster for steep routes:

Rongy has only been here once before and there was a line that we didn’t hit on that trip, which I was really keen to get his opinion about.  Had Dan and I misinformed Steve in more ways than one when he had established Bad Directions?  The first reason was entirely Steve’s fault, I mean who mistakes an arête for a corner?!  But this did error had yielded a new route, which Dan and I immediately did the second ascent of claiming it only to be a grade 9.  When Glen climbed it and managed to break his foot on a lead fall (https://sandbagged.blog/2019/01/27/not-one-to-be-left-out/) I really started to doubt the grade:

By now Jaime was quite used to rapping down into the abyss, and with the promise of a much easier route that wouldn’t be as steep she was sold.  Both Jaime and I liked the look of belaying off a huge fallen boulder, meaning that Rongy would need to initially lead out up the wet and greasy black basalt.  He contested just a little bit.  But the stance we had was a little cramped with three of us, that along with and the potential risk of a large wobbly flake crashing down on us was enough to change his mind.  This flake gets a mention in the report when Howsie led this route but I can’t recall now what grade he thought the line was https://sandbagged.blog/2019/12/16/taking-the-backseat/:

Rongy was on a time schedule and we were still considering a dip in the ocean, so this would be the last route.  I was however not keen to start my dip prematurely, and while Jaime and I had instigated a belay off the boulder we were both tied in just in case a freak wave happened to hit us.  The boulder was wet with puddles all over it, so a bit of neat rope work was also in order to avoid my new rope getting soaked in the salt water.  It’s these position that makes this place so magical, and I feel that you may hear about a few return trips in the coming months:

Rongy ambled up the route, hardly stopping except to place a few wisely positioned bits of gear.  Even the wobbly flake didn’t seem to slow him down.  Jaime too managed a quick ascent and was probably relieved that I had not mislead here when I said it was a less steep route and much easier.  However, when she reached the flake she made a rookie mistake of pulling outwards and not downwards, despite having had prior warning it was wobbly.  It stayed put but the amount of movement did concern her.  The good news being that Jaime’s arms did do their stuff, but not on quite the same difficulty of climb as Ron Fawcett when he did Lord of the Flies and when the catch phrase “C’mon arms, do your stuff” was coined (at 25min in the linked video if you want to hear it):

I was up next and it felt cruisy, I looked up and asked Rongy what he felt and he replied with no more than a 12 and maybe less. Feeling a little better about not sandbagging people too much on this route, and also taking into account the guide makes mention of the loose flake as a warning, we packed up.  Back at the car we looked out over the bay, and as we had kinda guessed the swell and chop was too much and would have made snorkelling round the limestone bommies a little treacherous.  With luck we can score better conditions on the next trip here.  On that trip Rongy might also have more luck with jumping on Petropunster, which he had considered for today but with the rock condition being as it was it would not have been much fun:

Avoiding the crowds

Day two of getting out, it’s shaping up to be a fun long weekend!  Today would be a little different.  For starters we were driving towards Busselton for a 7am meet which is late in my books, and secondly Lisa was joining us.  As we drove the back way we passed the floodgates and here we found the biggest flock of pelicans I have seen.  Not only pelicans but there were egrets lining the bank, and grebes and darters out in the water.  We simply had to stop and take a picture, but sadly as soon as they saw us they started to move on, and then when I crashed in the undergrowth to get closer they dispersed even quicker:

We couldn’t hang about for too long as we were due to meet Lou and Glen, and as we carried on I made a mental note that I should one morning come out this way to do a spot of bird watching.  We were heading out to a spot Glen had stumbled across while exploring the 4WD tracks and coastline, another reason today would be a little different.  Glen, Lou and I had been talking about this place for a few weeks now, and today it so happened we were all three available.  He drove in and got us to a parking spot with a view.  From here it was a ten minute walk down the dune, through amazing limestone formations and over granite boulders:

I’d already seen images, and the boulders looked fun.  I wasn’t expecting anything too hard, and indeed today was about very chilled climbing.  Both Lou and Glen hadn’t been on rock in ages and needed something cruisy and laid back to gentle reintroduce them into the art of leading.  This place was perfect, 6-10m high boulders with a few features but nothing looking too steep.  How it would be for gear was yet to be seen, and there was a second gully that had slightly higher and steeper looking lines if these proved too easy:

Lisa was along for the ride, just to get out and watch the waves.  So while she found a good spot to soak in the location and kick back, Lou and Glen prepared themselves for the first lead.  I could hear the clinking of the gear as it was being pulled out of the packs, but my sights were set on the clear looking bay right in front of the boulders.  The water looked calm.  You could see there was a swell pushing in and based on my observations from yesterday I assumed this would only increase as the morning wore on:

With a leader and belayer sorted I was happy to leave them to it and put my head under the water.  The bottom of the bay was covered in a weed that looked unfamiliar to me, I scoured it for some time waiting to see the flick of movement, slight change of colour or a shape that differed from the weed to indicate a fish was darting away.  But nothing came to sight.  The thick blanket of weed swayed this way and that devoid of any other life, as the swell pushed the water in and then out again.  It deepened as I made my way to the reef that fringed the edge of the bay and I started to work my way along this:

A few familiar fish came to view including drummers, morwongs and sweeps, but were quick to dash under the cover of the ledges.  I went down looking for them but they went in too deep for me to see them.  The edge of the reef had narrow crevices cutting into it that looked to open up at the bases into caves, but with the swell it felt too dodgy to swim into them and duck dive down.  After hunting the edge of the reef and ledges for some time, with no new or exciting finds I took a couple of images of the colourful array of sponges, bryozoa, and weed hanging onto the underside of the ledges:

The only other place I could think to try and find where all the fish were hiding was along the boulders.  The water was certainly deeper here and it looked a great place for them to be shoaling, but it was also where the swell had the greatest impact and after narrowly missing being thrown against the granite walls several times I decided it was time to get out.  Back on the beach Glen was atop the first climb, and Lou was following up.  It seemed that it had taken a while to sus out a line , get ready and climb it.  It was his first lead in a while so it was great to see, and chatting to them he reckoned no more than a grade 8 while Lou scoffed and said a 4:

The grades really were not a worry today, it was about rope work, placing gear and setting up belays.  Lou was up next and fancied a wide crack.  There was an off-width that Glen was keen to get her on, but she solo’d most of it before declaring it to be too much of a cake walk and plumping instead for this line.  Again nothing too serious and similar to Glen’s lead in grade, but it did give a few more gear placements than the off-width had offered especially in view that we hadn’t brought a rack of size 5 and 6 cams along.  Atop the boulder once more the belay was set up efficiently and it seemed that both of them still had the rope work and gear skills needed:

With a lead under each belt eyes diverted to a pocketed wall, it looked fun but would there be any gear?  I played on it to check out what it was like, the big round pockets offered no jugs and all the holds were mostly slopers.  Also the break at just over half height didn’t seem to provide anything that looked bomber, and there was no gear above or below.  During the solo inspection I piked out left to a ledge, as the fall onto uninviting boulders started to get too big.  Glen however kept looking up and was convinced there may be a bit of gear in the break, encouraging me to take a more direct line just a little to the right:

Sure enough he was right, a black tricam slotted in but it was right on the edge. I also managed to wriggle a 0.4 Camelot in with the lobes only just catching the rock, resulting in the lobes sticking out of the shallow slot. The move to get above the gear was the crux and smeary. With placements that were not the most inspiring, it took a few attempts to work out the moves and build up enough courage to go for it. Glen and then Lou followed up and the great grade debate began, we plumped for 16 but they both felt it was a very sketchy lead and not one they would take on:

Glen was then eyeing up what looked to be the crag, or should I say boulder, classic.  A steep crack and flake line that looked to provide enough gear and holds to make it something he would consider.  Racking up he used stepping stones in the pool below to gain access to the route, the low tide today was in our favour.  The gear and holds to start were bomber and he seemed to be going not too bad.  But I often say footwork is key and for this line it really was, a layback flake and the need to smear your feet:

He managed to get a couple of bits of gear in, but then had to fully commit to laying back with not much for his feet.  He was visualising the sequence but couldn’t pull the moves, slipping off and proving that his gear placements were good.  The line looked too good to leave, so as he sat below it looking up he offered it to Lou and the response was not surprisingly no way.  So he offered it to me and I jumped at the chance.  It was stellar line with good gear, but the steepness demanded commitment that was rewarded with improving holds.  That said probably a 15.  Both Lou and Glen followed up and they both made it hard work due to not committing to the footwork:

As a result the route had taken it out of them, and their arms were tried.  So while we checked another line there wasn’t a lot of enthusiasm from either camp.  While it may seem we didn’t do a heap of climbing, time was ticking along.  This was a result of in-between the climbing there being a fair bit of chat, mucking about and exploring the area to look for possible lines worth attention.  The sun was moving round and very little shade remained for Lisa to hide in, so we all agreed it was time to head out.  The ten minute walk out was interrupted as we looked at possible lines and took in the views one last time:

The gear was in the back of the tray including Glen’s snorkelling gear and catch-bag which never got used, maybe next time.  From the vantage point the cars that had been at Whaleback were still there.  Possibly boulderers or maybe people just out for a fish.  I’ve heard there may be some trad lines out that way too, and while the spot we had been today was worth another trip Glen and I talked about possibly checking out what may be at Whaleback next time.  On the drive back food options were discussed and it was agreed most touristy places would be chockers and the wait would be horrendous.  So we had a well-deserved the feed at the relatively quiet Shed Markets in Busselton instead:

The perfect playground

I am still in “work a four day week” January, so decided once more to bail on the boys and not join them in the early morning Welly Dam session.  I’ll probably do the same again next Friday.  With a bit more time on my hand I returned to Smith’s Beach, this time with Jaime.  There were two main reasons for coming back here so soon.  First I really enjoyed the trip on New Year’s Day with Craig, Rongy and Alana, and second during that trip I remember how scary the climbing can feel here and that makes it a great place to push your mental limits:

Jaime was the only one to bite when I put my intentions out on WhatsApp, and that added a third good reason to come to Smiths Beach.  It has a couple of chimneys that I felt she would love.  We began proceedings on the easier of the two chimneys Seafood Extender (13), which I debated the grade of in the last post.  When we visited Moses Rocks Jaime seemed to enjoy the rock style and climbing techniques it demanded, but added to that she loved being so close to the ocean.  It was evident that she felt the same about the proximity to the waves here, but I wasn’t initially sure about the climbing (and descents):

I say that as I have often described Smith’s Beach as Moses Rock’s big brother, some might say the big brother is a bit of a bully.  Most will come away from here with a few scars, not necessarily from falling but from the sheer roughness of the rock and need to hug it so closely.  In addition many fear leading here, which keeps them away.  Rather than enjoy the chimneys back to back, I threw in a harder line in-between to give Jaime a real flavour of the place.  The obvious line being Cape to Crack (17), and it certainly tested her.  Like slab climbing, total and utmost trust in smearing with your feet is required:

While it was a challenge, she wasn’t put off and to boot there didn’t seem to be any scars to speak of.  So we then jumped on, or should I say into, The Drunken Sailor (14).  One of the most fun chimneys in the south west, in my opinion.  Kym put up this true classic that is so much fun, before I came along and sieged the area stealing nearly every other line.  I wormed my way up this crevice, and was happy to see Jaime adopt a similar full body wedging approach.  Giggling and laughing her way up it, and still managing to come out at the top relatively unscathed:

The sun was now hitting Harbour Wall, so we left the other routes there for another time and headed to Camelot Castle.  Here bolder and more vertical routes awaited.  Jaime blindly follows me, having faith that I don’t do anything too silly myself and that whatever it is she will have a good chance of getting up.  This next line may have been a bit cheeky of me, even before I set off she looked up and indicated she didn’t like the idea of it.  Sir Lancelot (19) is one of those lines I put up that took a few false starts, due to me insisting on ground up first ascents:

It isn’t too hard really, but the gear for the crux in the lower section is marginal and the landing isn’t pretty.  Even today I had to down climb this section, recompose myself and then got for it.  Before heading back up I popped a pink tricam in.  On the first ascent I didn’t have these nifty bits of gear and that made it so much more spicy.  My obvious nervousness put Jaime on edge even more, but I’m pleased to say I managed a clean lead and then Jaime learnt the art of getting super up-close and personal with the rock.  She admitted to enjoying the route, and I could then sigh with relief.  Truth be told I climbed this one for me, as it scares the be gibers out of me:

With that line under our belt and shade still on this magnificent wall we headed for Excalibur (19), which goes right up the guts of the wall and is the route that probably links the most number of technical moves.  It’s probably also the most climbed route on the wall, with plenty of gear but again rounded holds making good footwork essential.  For most of the route you trust smeary footholds and use rounded hand, well mostly finger, holds for balance.  On this line, and with a slight height disadvantage, there was the need  Jaime to really work those feet.  That she did and it paid off, it was great to watch:

There was one more line I had in my head that we should climb.  Billowing Sails (17) is not as much of a mental challenge for me, but I feel it is the most out there climb here.  The belay is on a pedestal and with a 2-3m swell today the water gushed up on both sides and the spray occasionally hit Jaime.  The stance is exciting and exposed, so much so we anchored in.  I was setting off up the many varied features of the arête and, as with The Drunken Sailor, all I could hear was the fits of laughter and pleasure as Jaime thrived on one of the best belay stances you’ll get in the South West:

That all stopped after I had set up my belay and pulled in the rope.  Jaime will openly admit she does not have a lot of upper body strength, which I think is debatable.  However, this was route number six and with the limited climbing she has done her arms would be feeling it. As such my focus was more on her than the images this time.  On occasion I could her calls, not of distress but certainly indicating it was testing her.   This route is steep and overhung in places so I couldn’t watch her progress or offer any advice, but eventually she joined me.  This time the bully had come out and she was sporting some impressive battle scars, ones she hadn’t noticed till she got up:

With scars on her shins and some bark taken off her hand what could be better than a dip in the ocean.  But before talking more about that I’m pleased to say Jaime wasn’t put off Smiths Beach and is eager to head back. We had been watching the ocean during the climbing, the 2-3m swell wasn’t ideal but the winds were easterlies so seaward and that was in our favour.  It was too rough to consider going in straight off the rocks so we drove towards Canal Rocks.  The carpark to The Aquarium was again overflowing and people were parking dangerously on the relatively narrow road as we passed by:

Jaime has great memories of The Aquarium from when she was a kid, it was quiet and full of fish.  These days its insta-famous and I wonder if I will ever find a day when I can get it to myself.  As we stood at Canal Rocks we looked out, the water looked clear but the surface was a little choppy.  It was always a possibility that the swell would have churned up the sediments, but we decided to risk it and got ready.  Jaime winced as her wounds were submersed, but once the head was underwater all was forgiven.  It was clear and there was great visibility:

We saw a good variety of fish, although they were mostly individuals or in small shoals.  Above the weed you needed to keep a sharp eye out, as they would appear and disappear from sight way too quickly.  Check out the small green and black fish above.  I saw lots of varied fish along here but there was no hope of getting down in time to snap a close-up.  So I just enjoyed watching them from above.  As the water deepened I started to go down to check out the caves and ledges, and to start with it felt like I would be out of luck:

As we carried out more and more fish came to sight, and it is the first time I have come across a female Herring Cale.  It was about a foot long and as it swam this way and that, it was either confused or curious.  Coming in closer and then deciding that wasn’t a very clever idea and swimming away, before changing its mind.  All the time on the move making it hard to get any super clear images.  I popped my head up and found Jaime stood on a submerged rock looking cold, like Rongy she doesn’t function well when cold and in the water gets cold quite quickly:

She headed in to allow the sun to warm her up on land, and told me to stay in as long as I liked.  So I continued to explore for a little longer, continually checking under ledges and caves and it started to pay off.  Below is a Moonlighter and a couple of Old Wives.  The Moonlighter looks to be a juvenile that is getting close to adulthood, the young have a clear black spot in the top of the upper rear dorsal fin.  On this one the spot is visible but starting to fade, they usually grow to 35cm but can be a bit bigger.  This one was probably only 20cm long:

On my return swim I was going up and down like a yoyo, and came across a large cave that was thriving with life.  One area was full of fully grown Common Bullseye and a few juvenile Southern Silver Drummer, each time I went down they would swim to the furthest recess. This and the swell pushing the water back and forth made it impossible to get a good image.  I also saw what I believe was a very striking and beautifully patterned male Rainbow Cale.  It was stunning but like so many other fish just too fast to get away.  There was however one fish that just sat there:

Despite me going down several times it almost seemed reluctant to move.  I’ve been searching high and low and can only assume that the above is another female Herring Cale.  The body shape, fins, size and distinct yellow eye makes me think I’m right, but it looks so different from the first one I saw.  My next find was by far my favourite of the dive, this colourful Puffer sat there content with me invading it’s privacy and even did a very slow twirl for me.  The shape and fin configuration makes me convinced it is a Puffer, but as yet I have not been able to narrow it down to which sort:

It was then time to head back and as I snorkelled over the shallow weed I spotted a Southern Calamari Squid.  I made the mistake of swimming towards it, and it took on that familiar torpedo shape as if to say I’m about to go into warp speed.  It never did and when I stopped swimming it visibly relaxed, the tentacles moved into a downward position and it started to move towards and past me.  The colours of the body also changed and it no longer moulded into the background with this lined pattern, almost as if knowing I wanted to see it more clearly.  As it moved slowly past me and then away I didn’t follow it:

The final stretch was very shallow and there was no diving down, little fish scooted this way and that including this one.  I believe it is a Pretty Polly, the size, body and head shape, eye and fins seem to match and these are “strongly associated with weeds and seagrass in coastal bays”.  Looking back I wonder if that little green fish in the first image may be a juvenile of this fish.  As I came out of the water I found Jaime absorbing the heat from the sun and rock she lay on, periodically moving to a new part of the rock to suck out the heat.  When we wandered back to the cars, we both agreed that we are very lucky to have such a playground on our doorstep:

On closer inspection

Last night we were invited for a drink and catch up at friends round the corner.  It was during the evening, and after staying at this social event far longer than I would normally, that a discussion kicked off about going for a snorkel.  Esky and I were keen and we talked Dan into coming in the water with us.  Dan has snorkelled with Esky before but it was a long time ago and he seemed somewhat nervous about the concept.  However, despite the alcohol that some consumed, and for some lack of sleep due to the heat and teenagers memories of the agreement surfaced to our minds the next day:

We had decided on a bit of a walk along our local beach to try and find a couple of good bommies just past a place called Higgins Cut.  I had yet to visit this area so was eager to explore some new ground, especially after two successful dives at new spots of Canal Rocks and then Stratham Beach (local known as The Huts).  It was a different morning compared to the last few weeks, cloud was in the sky and there was no wind.  As a result of the reduced sun the water looked a little dark, but there was no swell or waves to speak off.  We left Lisa, Kath and Bonnie on the beach with the four dogs and headed out:

We were in about 4m of water most of the time, varying between 5 and 3m and the bottom was on the whole flat and featureless.  Still I kept my hopes high and as we went out the bottom was sandy to start with, where I spotted a small Southern Fiddler Ray.  Pointing this out to Dan we then went on and started to spot a few fish here and there on the more rocky floor.  Nothing particularly different, but I would duck dive down to check out what might be below, above is a bivalve and inside you can see the filters collecting the particles out of the water:

Above are some Sea Squirts.  What caught my attention about this image, when I looked at it at home, was not the bright red and knobbly Sea Squirts, but the small red and white filters to the left and underneath the rock.  They look to be Feather Duster Worms. I have tried to take images of these before, but they are very sensitive to unusually water movements and quick to retract into their protective body.  To get a good image you need to stay still and also be able to stay down for long enough to get the angle and focus, without any sudden movements:

Duck diving seems easy, Dan had a bash but he struggled to get very deep.  This was in part due to being in a full length wetsuits, which may keep you warm but also provide us with more buoyancy.  Working against the intention of going down.  I’d recently bought one for myself and had it on today, but also two weights on my belt to compensate.  I used these weights to help with my three quarter wetsuit, but with the full length one on today I struggled to compete against the extra buoyancy.  I might need to invest in another weight.  Despite that I managed to get down and under one of the few limestone features I spotted some Gobbleguts:

There was also what I believe to be a Bullseye towards the back on the right and at the back in the centre a Western Stripped Cardinal Fish.  I found another one of the latter later on and got some great close up images.  It’s a shame I couldn’t stay down longer to check out these nooks and crannies, and see what might be hiding in them.  We did come across this great coral, I’ve chucked it on QuestaGame to figure out if I am right in assuming it is a type of stony coral of the genus Favites.  I first thought it may have been a Brain Coral , but a close-up inspection of the structure and patterning is making me think not:

You may recall in a recent post (https://sandbagged.blog/2020/12/29/the-freezer/) I found something that I at first thought was a brittle star.  Well with the help of QuestaGame I’ve managed to identify it as a Bushy Sea Cucumber.  I’ve often included images of Sea Cucumbers or Sand Gobblers, and we saw a number of them today.  However, the one I found in that previous dive was different to the ones I have commonly seen. This one buries its much shorter 10cm body in the sand with only tree like tentacles poking out.  These collect particles from the water, and one arm at a time swipes across the mouth in the middle to collect the particles:

Dan was starting to get cold so headed in, as Esky and I continued to scour the mostly flat base.  It was at times rocky, then sandy and at other times covered in sea grass.  Soon after in a sandy patch I spotted what I think is a Slimy Bag, we get them washed on the shore and if broken they have a clear gooey slim in them.  Again like the squirt above, the main subject of the image is not what caught my attention as I inspected it in more detail back home.  It was the small crab behind it.  Probably no more than 2cm across, so not surprising I didn’t see it while in the water.  Based on the shape, colour, size and long heavy set pincher arms I’m guessing it to be a Smooth Pebble Crab, which only grow up to 3cm:

Earlier on you may have noticed Dan had a long cable attached to his leg, and when he went in to shore Esky popped it on his leg.  This is a shark shield, and lets out an electrical pulse that is supposed to put sharks off from getting too close.  One of the reasons Dan was a little nervous, was that last week there were some beached whales and one didn’t survive.  This resulted in a shark warning being issued and beach being closed, as a precaution.  Needless to say we didn’t get to see any sharks on this dive:

Above Esky had an attempt to catch a Blue Swimmer Crab, but it managed to get away.  Chatting to him he said that like me he too has noticed more crabs about than previous years, but on this dive we only spied a couple.  Another one we found was munching away on some weed, but when I went down for a closer look I was more taken by the below Shaw Cowfish.  It didn’t realise I was there until it poked its head out of the weed and came face to face with me, after a few moments of being startled it swam off at a pace.  Esky was the next to feel the cold and headed in:

With my full length wetsuit on I wasn’t feeling cold at all, but decided I should probably wander in at a slow relaxed pace.  Heading downwards whenever there was something that caught my eye.  As I was chasing a fish, I can’t recall which sort, I spotted these white tubes.  Something I have seen before, but only once.  I thought at the time they were octopus eggs, but I now think based on the size, number and shape they might be squid eggs. With that find under my belt and after an hour in the water, it was finally time to head back to the others on the beach:

Packing up, we walked the 45min back.  Mostly in the shade as the cloud concealed the sun.  We even felt a spot of rain and heard a low boom of thunder.  Then as we got close to home the clouds started to break up and the dark looking waters began to turn to a beautiful turquoise colour.  A pod of dolphins cruised past heading towards where we had come from, and Lisa reckoned they were the ones that had swum within 20m past us as we were snorkelling, not that Dan, Esky or myself had been aware or seen them:

The sensible choice

With 2021 rolling in, Howsie must have been feeling the need to get a bit fitter to prepare him as best possible for the challenge of attempting all of the grade 21s in the South West.  I say this as he suggested that we rekindle the early morning before work climb, up at Welly Dam.  A few were interested and as such another WhatsApp group has been set up, with the first session starting at 5am this morning.  Attending on Howsie’s quest for more stamina, were Rongy and Jake.  Together they enjoyed the call of the Red Tailed Cockatoos, as they knocked off six climbs before needing to get to work:

So why did I not join them, there are several reasons.  First and foremost during my two week break I had probably indulged in both bouldering on my wall and climbing outdoors a little too much.  I knew this as my shoulder was telling me to ease off or risk needing to take a forced break from climbing.  Also Ash had put out a call and was keen to head to Wilyabrup on the same day to have a first bash at trad lead climbing.  This would mean lower grade routes and a far more relaxed pace.  Finally seeing it is the summer school holiday and Lisa is off, I had already taken the day off and had the time for a longer morning out:

So it was that I drove out at 5am to head south, thinking of the boys as they just about to start cranking hard at Welly Dam.  As I approached Ash’s place I needed to check my phone to see where he lives and only then noticed a message.  Ash had awoken with a blazing headache and was also dealing with the aftermath of a pooch who had had an accident of both the number one and two variety.  So after a brief chat it was decided that I would head down without him, which was OK due to both Tomski and then Dean having indicated they wanted to join us for the morning out.  So I was sure I would have someone to climb with:

Arriving at the carpark there was no sign of Tomski.  I later found out he had been out climbing for the last two days at Wilyabrup and Bobs Hollow, and having been in the mid to high thirties these two sessions had taken their toll on his body.  Resulting in him not making it out today.  Dean however rocked up bang on time, and saved the day.  It has been a while since Dean has climbed, the last time was when he I came to Wilyabrup in November 2018: https://sandbagged.blog/2018/11/12/the-guns-of-navarone/.  Neither of us could recall what we climbed back then, so seeing he hadn’t climbed for so long I decided to stick to the original plan that I had laid out for Ash of a few low grade routes:

We started on Tom Thumb, and as you will see from the images today I was breaking in a new rope.  Ash has started to make mats using old retired ropes, and I decided to hand over all my old ropes that have seen rather a lot of action.  It was good timing that the supplier I usually use was having a sale recently, and I picked up a 60m single for a mere $140.  In fact the deal was so good I bought two, and today was the day to break at least one of them in.  You may also notice that I am missing a belay device, as Dean followed me up.  He hasn’t got one so while he used mine I made use of an old school Italian (or Munter or Crossing) Hitch:

Tom Thumb was followed by Thunder Thighs (above) and then Orryjohn (below).  Despite the long duration between putting on the sticky boots Dean seemed to be following me up each route without any noticeable concerns or issues.  Each route has a tricky section and even on these he looked to pull it off, although he did confess afterwards there was a moment or two when he thought he might have fallen off.  One of the issue with an Italian Hitch is it tends to twist the rope, that added to the fact that it is new rope might have resulted in the rope work being a bit messy:

However, I was pleased to report that the rope behaved and hardly knotted.  I had flaked it out several times the night before and after each route we coiled it and laid it out carefully, as can be seen above.  On one occasion Dean coiled it from the centre and that did result in a few knots, but nothing that couldn’t be managed.  Each route I picked, while low grade, had something a little different and it was fun watching Dean figure the varying techniques out.  The move that seemed to make him breathe the heaviest was strangely enough on the easiest line of the day, as he was working his way up and out of the chimney on Orryjohn:

I guess just like Seafood Extender last weekend down at Smith Beach, it again shows how truly traditional style climbs can be, and often are, over graded because most climbers these days are not used to the techniques.  We almost had the place to ourselves.  The only other people we saw was a party of two, who rocked up while we were on our second route, and were top roping on the Inner Space Wall.  It felt good to have a quiet crag again after all the busy periods since the pandemic started and places like this became instafamous.  Maybe it was the heat and flies that was keeping them all away today:

Our fourth route was Hope and at the crux Dean looked to be stumped.  Without weighting the rope he then down climbed, had a think and worked his way up with relative ease.  It certainly felt hot at the top of Hope and we were dreading the walk out, the other party were already packing up but we were both keen for one more route.  I offered Dean a lead on a bolted route, as he has led sport routes in the past.  I could tell he was seriously considered it, but finally said he would be happy to follow me up one last route.  With that we set our sights on First Climb because it is long, fun and more importantly a slab.  This meant we could climb out with packs, taking away the sting of walking back up the crag with packs and not Dean not having to worry about his arms giving up on him:

While we didn’t find a python on the flake of Hope, as I was really hoping to, we did get to watch a pod of dolphins frolicking in the waves.  There were also no King Skinks, again which I had hoped to see, but we did find an emaciated Bobtail that I found probably a little too fascinating.  All is all it was a cracking morning out and like the last time we climbed together we managed five great lines, three of which we repeated from the last trip not that either of us were aware of it.  It was however now time to head out and when we reached the cars it was a cool 33 degrees.  Walking out we agreed that Dean needs to get out a bit more regularly, and next time he hinted that he would have a crack at leading Setting Sun:

Something old and something new

Happy New Year and here’s hoping 2021 is a little more smooth sailing than 2020.  While Lisa and I stayed up till midnight, and beyond, it was not really to see the old year out and new one in.  Elseya was off to a party and we had offered to be a taxi service for her and her friends.  As such I was first up with a two hour round trip, which saw me get home shortly after nine with a Chinese takeaway.  After a feed and film Lisa got the late shift and left before the bells tolled to celebrate the ending of the 2020 and arriving home at 1:30am.  Needless to say that due to having organised to head out for a New Year’s Day climb I didn’t get much sleep:

I left Lisa to catch up on some snooze time, as I headed down to pick Craig up from Busselton.  Light was creeping into the sky as I left home, and while heading further west after picking Craig up and the sun crept over the horizon behind us.  Our destination for the first climb of 2021 was Smiths Beach, where we were due to meet Rongy and Alana.  It was Alana’s first time here and she gingerly made her way down into the zawn, taking in the unusually but exciting atmosphere it provides.  Even with a moderate 2.5m swell the occasional wave crashed in from the end of the zawn:

Rongy had chosen the location, and the choice had been here or Castle Rock.  They are quite different climbing locations, but both had quick and easy access to some good snorkelling spots.  Both he and I have discussed taking the fins along when we climb, cutting back on the time we spend on rock to make time for a dip in the ocean while the conditions are good.  To start with we were climbing and he got proceedings underway with the crag classic Cape to Crack.  It was still shady in the zawn but the rays of sun were already hitting canal rocks on the southern side of the bay:

Alana quickly accustomed herself to the setting, kicking back with a comfy rock armchair observing the carrying on that was occurring on the more vertical rock.  The intention was for her to have a climb, but not on this one.  Grade 17 was probably a little stiff, not only does she not climb very often but I can’t recall when I last saw her have a climb.  Craig and then I followed Rongy enjoying the route, with all of us feeling that it was about right at grade 17.  Why is this relevant, well just yesterday I was pursuing The Crag:

The Crag is an online climbing database populated by everyday climbers, and while only a few ascents had been entered for this location I was interested in their comment on one particular route.  But before we get to that route, Craig was encouraging me to have a lead.  I really wasn’t sure what to go for so went up Bulging Pockets.  A route that Craig and I established eleven years back, and one I don’t ever recall repeating.  With very little memory of the climb I took my time, but it was never too hard.  Afterwards Craig and then Rongy came up and we pondered the grade:

We plumped with 14 but even then were a little undecided, and checking the guide we had given it 13 back in 2010.  This happened to be the same grade as the next climb, Seafood Extender.  It was also the route that I had shown Alan and she seemed keen to give a go.  Grade 13 would be fine, but on The Crag the few climbers who had posted about it were inclined to grade it 16/7.  Like the first route of the day that would have been unreasonable to throw Alana on.  As I ran all over the place to get a few different angles Craig led the route, with the sun started to creep down the wall:

By the time he was up, anchored in and ready to belay Alana, the sun had almost made it to the base of the wall.  I watched with interest pondering: that the sun hits this wall early, and the place  heats up like an oven and can make climbing uncomfortable; the rock here and especially on this route is rounded and doesn’t always offer positive hand or footholds, and as such it is not a technique that novices usually take kindly too; whether this route was as much of a sandbag, as suggested by the climbers on The Crag.  With direction and encouragement being offered from below by Rongy and above by Craig she started her journey:

As she reached halfway, she took on the same crouched position that Craig had, and seemed to stall there.  Rongy didn’t as he followed but when I went up I did.  Not due to any difficulties but as a result of what we found in the cracks.  Why a crab would crawl up approx. 7m of a rock face to find a place to rest was beyond any comprehension.  That said some may ask why we climb up and down these faces with such glee, and so did Alana.  Vanquishing any doubters on The Crag about the grade, and in truth the boys all reckoned that it was more of a true traditional grade 10.  No matter the grade it is a great consistent and interesting line and Alana did a great job:

With Harbour Wall now fully bathed in sunlight, it was time to escape the heat and move to the northern face of Camelot Castle.   Rongy was undecided about which line to hit.  So I gently encouraged him to another one of my creations from eleven years back, which again I have not repeated and I am not aware of anyone else climbing it.  I’ve got images of Craig following me up the first ascent with an intensely focused look.  My memory being that Lady of the Lake being every bit the grade 19 we gave it, with spaced and tricky to find gear to boot:

The mid-section where Craig had looked so focused certainly made Rongy stop and think.  The rounded holds for both hands and feet don’t inspire you to move upwards, especially with the lack of gear of worth in that section.  It was the perfect climb for Rongy to have a crack at, just his style in fact.  Craig went second and I could feel his focus being just as intense as during that first ascent, so when I followed up I was a little apprehensive.  Despite one nervous move it yielded with surprising ease, but I feel the grade is worthy.  A solid on-sight lead by Rongy:

The sun was now starting to tip over the edge of Camelot Castle.  Meaning that any more climbing would soon be in full sunlight, and the position of the sun would result in making it very hard for the climber to see what lay ahead.  In view that there was a second part to today, I wasn’t overly worried about having another lead and was happy to call it a day.  Alana however had spied a short but fun looking wall in the zawn that she was keen to climb before we headed out, which Craig was equally happy to scoot up to set up belay for her:

After that the sun was in the zawn, the heat was rising and it was time to escape.  We had thought to snorkel straight out from the zawn.  It looks to have a rocky base full of weed and hopefully also fish.  The water had looked flat and inviting most of the time but every so often the steady swell sent in a set that churned up the water.  The thought of being caught out in one of those sets made us change our sights.  Between the zawn and Canal Rocks is a place called The Aquarium, which is supposed to be worth a visit and snorkel:

We could see it from the top of the crag, as well as all the people already there.  As we drove towards Canal Rocks we passed the carpark at Smiths Beach proper and carpark was full with cars lined up along the roads.  We then passed the parking bay to The Aquarium, and that too was starting to overflow.  At Canal Rocks there were heaps of spaces and very few people, so the decision was made we would simply jump in at the boat ramp and snorkel along the bay back towards The Aquarium:

I’d previously snorkelled in the main channel of Canal Rocks before exiting at the boat ramp with Rongy.  But today we would head north along the open bay, the territory was a mix of small bommies, open sandy areas and larger rock reefs covered in weed.  Being relatively shallow the visibility was reasonable despite the moderate swell.  I immediately spied a shoal of wrasse that I hadn’t seen before, with a distinct brown line from the eye arcing upwards and then traversing along the side to the tail:

These were female Western King Wrasse, and soon I was spying lots of other wrasse.  Most were way too fast for me to take an image and as such identifying them is pretty well impossible.  Other fish that were not quick enough to escape the lens, or indeed were not worried about me intruding on their privacy included Scalyfins, Sweeps, Cale, Zebra fish and the above Old Wife.  These Old Wife’s floated about under protected rock shelves and caves, and were more than happy to pose for the camera:

As we moved along the bay more and more shelves and caves appeared.  We ducked dived down glimpsing many fish including coralfish and boxfish.   They were all highly evasive and keen to get away, in addition the swell seemed to be picking up.  This resulted in the sediment being stirred up and also making it less comfortable to duck dive down.  In the back of my mind was the thought of being uncontrollably pushed against the reef, with no easy escape route to avoid a possible hard impact.  We decided to start the journey back but not before finding a pair of striking Blue Lined Leatherjacket (above) and also a couple of stunning Male Western King Wrasse:

As we made our way back to the boat ramp the effects of the swell was reduced, maybe due to the shallower waters or maybe because there is less reef to provide pockets in which the swell could create turbulence.  Again I started to spy heaps of fish. Most of which popped out of the weed only to dive back down quickly.  One that didn’t was this beautiful Male Maori Wrasse, of which I was able to get a great shot due to the clearer water.  I also managed to get a decent snap of a small Red-lip Morwong (second image below), and while we had spied some much bigger ones they had evaded us in the caves:

It was a great snorkel, and I’m very keen to get back here in hopefully slightly calmer conditions.  I’ll also bring my wetsuit and weights to allow me to get down more easily to explore the caves, in which there were so many fish to be found.  Back at the boat ramp the carpark was now overflowing and as we drove out The Aquarium parking bay had some 30 plus cars parked up and down the road.  Very satisfied it was time for us  to escape the growing crowds.  We all agreed it had been a great climb and snorkel, trying out some old routes and finding some new fish:

Heavy traffic

I’d previously been told about some good territory located off the beach at Stratham, which is about halfway to Bunbury as the crow flies.  So today I ventured there, and while I could have driven on the beach to get to the spot I opted for a walk.  After all being on holiday I’ve got heaps of free time so there was certainly no need to rush to get there.  In a way I’m happy that I did, as the beach seemed to be like a highway.  Cars heading in both directions some with families, some out fishing, and others towing boats.  Some even driving just to take their dog for a walk driving down then kicking the dog out and then driving back, so as they sat in the comfort of their car their dogs ran alongside:

Over the last few days it feel like the wind has been picking up so in a way I was risking it by coming here.  It felt a more exposed beach with longer bays and less headlands, but also a much lower dune protecting it from the wind off the land.  The water wasn’t looking great  Also while it didn’t seem to impact the water colour, as I walked the colour of the beach shifted from brilliant white to black. There was also more weed floating about here, and as I approached the point there were piles of sea wrack as well as cars.  Still after driving 20km and walking in for 1km I was committed regardless of the conditions.  As I kitted up and went in, it certainly didn’t start well and was pretty murky:

Early on, and as soon as I hit the reef proper, I came across a school of small silvery fish darting quickly this way and that.  I’m guessing they were Elongated Hardyhead.  There seemed to be a bit of a swell.  No more than what I had experienced at my local beach according to the swell forecasts and records, but for some reason it seemed to have a bit more oomph to it here.   One reason may be due to the shallow nature of the reef forcing all that energy to be channelled through a narrow column of water.  In places it was too shallow to even snorkel across and I had to be careful not to get grounded, as the water surface went up and down with the swell:

As I had walked to the area and as the reef was so shallow it was obvious where I needed to go.  Beyond the reef there were a heap of buoys bobbing about on the water. I guessed cray pots, like the one above that I assume had been lost in a storm and now seemed wedged in a cave, and that was my initial destination.  My guess being that the reef dropped away there into deeper water and with luck I might come across an abundance of fish life out there.  The theory of the reef was correct but not the fish life, as I approached the edge the impact of the swell intensified making the last stretch that bit more dodgy.  I had to at times cling onto the reef to stop being pushed this way and that.  And on arrival the visibility in the deeper water did not look inviting.  So instead I headed back staying in the relative shallows, here at least the water seemed clearer and I was spotting more fish life:

The very occasional shoal of Western Pomfred, Southern Silver Drummers, and I assume Elongated Hardyhead came and went.  But my interest was in watching the weed, I would briefly spy the flash of colour as something different would dart for cover.  Too fast for me to capture, but I did have a bit more luck with the above Herring Cale.  A bit like a Willy Wagtail that will fly ahead and wait for us as we are out walking, this fish did the same going ahead and hiding then coming out again and repeating the pattern.  While the reef was shallow there were caves and holes in it.  I’ve said before and not ashamed to say again that I’m pretty useless at holding my breath, so normally wouldn’t venture into these:

But today armed with my wetsuit and weights I did have a bash at a couple.  The weights meaning I good get down without using so much energy, but despite that it was certainly pretty eerie going through them.  You can see the light at the end of the tunnel but never quite know where the opening will be big enough to resurface, or indeed if the walls will close in just that bit too much to squeeze through.  One thing is for sure it forces you to control yourself and keep calm, especially when you would normally be wanting to escape upwards due to your brain telling you that you are running out of air but you really aren’t:

These caves didn’t offer up many more fish, the expected Brown or Orange Wrasse and Banded Sweeps, but the sides did provide protection for some cool looking sponges like the one above.  There were a few others, some of which I have shown you before but I still went down several times to get some good images to provide a bit more variety, and add to my collection, on QuestaGame!  Not put off by the swell and generally murky conditions I pottered about and was rewarded, as this cuttlefish appeared below me.  Not wanting to disturb it or frighten it way I didn’t go down to check it out straight away, and as such I only saw it briefly before it went under a rock shelf:

That is when I duck dived down to see it disappear into a dark recess.  I thought well at least I saw it, and then it popped back out.  So too followed it, staying at the surface observing from above.  It continued to check out caves and rock shelves popping back out each time.  As we came to a place where the reef shallowed it came up towards me and within half an arm’s length.  After that and as the water became deeper I started to dive down to swim alongside it, and on occasion go down ahead of it so it would swim towards and past me.  It never darted off but seemed to have a set direction it was heading, allowing me to get a heap of images and of course some cool videos that are linked below:

I followed it out through a deeper gap in the reef and into the deeper water, where I found myself right by the buoys that I had originally intended to get too.  The cuttlefish drifted from sight and after checking out what the buoys were attached too, which seemed to be just a mooring stations for boats.  I slowly headed back drifting this way, feeling pretty stoked.  Back on the beach the number of cars parked at the point had doubled, so I was quick to pack up and walk back down the beach as yet more cars passed me in both direction: