Sunday morning came in a bit strange. Lisa drove in for her fitness class in soupy fog and it was still lingering when she got back mid-morning. So instead of going for a snorkel I was up for a beach walk with Lisa and the dogs. Blue sky crept in and it looked like it might lift, as we got to the beach but as we walked it became thicker with each step. All the way out and back the eerie fog hung there and hopes of a snorkel today faded, despite the water looking reasonably calm and seemingly clear along the shoreline:
It was mid-afternoon when the sun finally cut through the low clouds and the heat of the day dispelled any lingering patches fog. The sight of a blue sky and high sun raised my hopes of a dip, and my thoughts were on how lucky Nana has been with spotting several nudibranchs when she has had a dive off their local beach. So I drove across to their place with intentions of using their driveway to park the car. They too however seemed up for heading out to see what we might see:
The three of us trouped down to pathway to their spot. I’ve not dived off this part of the beach and as we got in the level of hopefulness was reduced. The water even off the shoreline looked murky and the swell was stirring up not just the sediments, but also the weed. Still there were patches were it improved and so the three of us perceived when others would bail. It was great looking ground, a mixed between the reef down Lisa and my end and the more distinct bommies directly out from the river mouth. Offering lots of nooks and crannies to explore:
Geoff told me later that when they first moved here the reef was teaming with life, but then a huge storm came in and the place was ravaged. He reckons that life is starting to creep back, so over the next year or two it will hopefully get back to its former glory. The mixed terrain certainly looked like it could house a varied and abundant forms of life, but today the swell was making it hard to see much. The fish, such as this Leatherjacket, were few and far between making use of protective holes the reef provided:
I went down heaps checking out what there was to see, shoals of Gobbleguts seemed to occupy many of the more protected nooks and other fish I saw disappeared as soon as I started my descent. We did have some Herring drift backwards and forwards as we scoured the area, and of course the ever present and dependable Banded Sweeps. Other than that it was hard to find much else, and I wondered how long we might stay out for. None of us had donned wetsuits and it felt a little on the chilly side:
In-between the crevices I found a heap of squirts and sponges that looked different to what I would normally find. These looked to be safely wedged and perfectly placed to catch any currents that drifted passed their chosen anchorage, full of food for them to filter out. A few sea stars were also about adding to the occasional sprinkling of colour. From what I saw the area was full of promise and I’m pretty keen to get back here on a calmer day to really explore it:
Despite the turbulent and turbid conditions, and I have no idea how she saw it but, Nana called me over. She had found a nudibranch, and I eagerly swam across to where she was. Sure enough two to three meters below us a small splash of orange could be seen intermittently, as the weed was obscuring it from sight half the time as it rhythmically moved with the swell. It looked to get dislodged for a moment, hanging on desperately by its tail and then reattached itself under in a small pocket out of sight:
Being Nana’s third time of seeing them she soon drifted off, but I stayed popping down to watch it and slowly but surely it started to merge giving me a better view. The feathery gills sticking out of its back were visible, but it never fully came out to give me a full body view. Instead turning round and going back into the hole. Maybe due to my presence or the possibly the swell, no matter I was very chuffed to see this Short-Tailed Ceratosoma for the first and hopefully not last time:
I then joined Nana and Geoff who had drifted of, the terrain didn’t seem to end and seemed far more expansive than the island of reef near our place. We continued to look round but there wasn’t a whole heap more that came out for us. Eventually making our way back and finally getting out. Nana came out last and was dragging a sizeable piece of driftwood out. It looked like it had been in the water for decades, and would now become a decorative piece for their garden:
After a fun session of climbing at Castle Rock, Tomski, Jaime and I walked back to the car and as we walked I pondered whether the water conditions made it worth jumping in for a snorkel. It was hard to say as there looked to be a bit of swell, but the only way to really know was to jump in. So back at the car the three of us swapped our climbing gear over with our swimming gear and trouped back along the track. Jaime didn’t have a mask but said she was content just having a dip, while Tomski and I were keen to put our heads under the surface. We were greeted by clear waters and an underwater landscape full of colours and textures:
Immediately I spotted an unusual looking Combe Jellyfish that looked tubular, above, and as I watched it anchovies darted in all directions. I’m not sure why but the water here seems to be so much clearer than it is at my local spots off Peppy Beach. Maybe it is because it located on the outer edge of Geographe Bay, so it doesn’t get the same swells and currents. Or maybe the coarser sand, on which a small Sand Flathead below was perfectly camouflaged, takes more turbulence to get stirred up? Whatever it is I was pleased about it today:
As I swam between the boulders and looked at the walls for interesting finds, I spotted these Blue Throat Ascidians. While they look like plants they are animals and are closely related to vertebrates like us. They have a circulatory system, digestive system, heart and other organs. And while they don’t have a backbone and ribs, though it looks like it through their transparent bodies, they do have a long nerve running the length of their body in the same way our spinal column does. Amazingly, despite being only a few centimetres long they can pump a hundred litres of water in a single day:
Rounding the headland of Castle Rock there are a pile of jumbled rocks forming slabby surfaces. I spotted an area with five or six of the following fish. My first thought was a Threefin, and while they are not that these Western Jumping Blennys are placed under the category of Threefins in my fish book. They can and do at times come out of the water and can hop across wet rocky surface keeping near the water’s edge. Being in shallow water I was able to sneak up on them and capture a few images, but as soon as I swam below the surface they hopped, skipped and jumped away:
There was an abundance of fish hugging the rocky coastline. We spotted Old Wives, Trumpeters, Buff Bream, Herring, Anchovies, Zebra Fish in big numbers and also many more in smaller numbers. The individual fish that seemed to stand out and caught my eye were these striking black and yellow stripped fish. They stayed in sheltered post and lurked under the rocky overhangs. This image of these Stripeys isn’t the best image of got of them, but I really like it due to the colouration of the rocks and the watchful eyes, of a Zebra Fish and unidentified fish, on me:
Out in the open water it was hard to know where to look, fish swam round us in all directions. Duck diving down made them move away a bit but they soon drifted back towards us. Below the image of these Tarwhine, with a sole Buff Bream , was the view that was all about us. I tried to capture the abundant numbers and variation of fish in video but while the water was clear it wasn’t good enough to allow the camera to pick the required detail up more than five metres away. Needless to say Tomski and I were very happy to have made the decision to jump in:
There were so many other fish to report, plenty that I have not as yet seen off our local beach. But there is only one more that I wanted to include. We both spotted it lurking under a boulder, with just a fraction of its tail visible. Duck diving down it didn’t seem perturbed by our curious gaze and interest, merely lounging about on the edge of the boulder in the shadows. We left it to its hidey hole and drifted off. Once we started to get cold we retraced our path, and on the return trip I stopped to see if this fish was still about:
It was and this time it lazily swam out from under the boulder and seemed to move in numerous directions allowing me a view from every angle I could ask for, before then lazily heading back under the cover of the boulder. I thought it was a puffer fish of some sort, and have narrowed it down to a Spotfin Porcupinefish. These fish can grow to 75cm and I’m guessing this one was just over 50cm. They can inflate their rotund body if they feel threatened but despite us swimming right next to it, so close my camera wouldn’t focus and I could touch it, it refrained from putting on a show:
During the week Tomski hinted that after this weekend he may be leaving the south west and heading up to Perth, soon after intending to fly home to Israel. For that reason, and seeing it was a long weekend, I suggested that we could head out this morning despite also heading out on Monday for a climb. Not surprisingly he was keen as mustard, and so for something different I suggested Castle Rock. My rationale being that the three day weekend would encourage the Perth crew to descend on us, resulting in the more popular spots being busy, but not here:
I let Jaime know of our plans, and she was also jumping for joy to hear of another rock excursion. We almost had to call it off when the Perth and Peel regions went into a snap three day lockdown. Many suggest that we should also have had the same, as all that happened was hordes of the city folk heading down to us before the lockdown came into effect on Friday night. As the days are getting shorter, with autumn building up momentum, we arranged to meet at 7am at the carpark. This allowed both of them a relaxed and lazy start today as they live just a few kilometres from this spot:
Even with what may seem like such a late start we still managed to watch the sunrise as we walked to Castle Rock. Above I continued to enjoy the spectacle after climbing the first route, as sitting on top of Castle Rock allowed me a magnificent 360 degree view. Meanwhile, below Tomski was following up Smear to Glory and I was torn as to whether to watch the light show or him. It was bit of a stiff first climb for the day with a tricky crux move that requires full trust in smooth vertical footholds. Your feet can slide off these at any time if you don’t pay careful attention, and both Tomski and Jaime’s feet did just that:
Despite the slippery start they both enjoyed the climb and we were soon back down ready for number two. Pursuits is Lou’s favourite climb and I had told her of our plans to be here. Sadly, she was to travel to Perth. Thinking about that now, as I type, I wonder if she ended up going what with the lockdown and if not whether she could have joined us? This time as I belayed from atop the sun was above the remaining clouds that were floating on the distant horizon, casting shadows across the landscape. The occasional runner using the coastal track came past but other than that where we were it was pretty quiet:
This is one of the original routes at this place, none of which have been claimed by anyone so it is unclear when they were established. It was graded 17, whereas when Craig and I established Smear to Glory in 2015 we graded it 15. This one presented both Tomski and Jaime with far less problems, so something is definitely amiss. After each route I asked them what grade they thought the climbs were, and the consensus was that the first two climbs should at least be on equal standing. I would hazard a guess that the first line is slightly harder:
As we enjoyed the relative peace of playing about on Castle Rock, the beach and nearby rocky coastline was teaming with people. Many had arrived before us, eagerly hoping to be lucky enough to be here as the great salmon run occurs. Rods were abound, off the rocks and beach and also from boats and jet skis. As we climbed a couple also came along and set themselves up near us. But in the whole time we were there we never heard or saw any signs of jubilation, which indicated that the salmon didn’t run past here today:
The next route on the agenda was Minty Freshness, which is how the air smelt when Howsie and I put this one up. The guide, or more correctly we gave it a grade of 16, so you might think it would have been a good route for Jaime and Tomski. It’s one I can safely say “always” makes me struggle. Steep, being off vertical, with rounded holds, nowhere to rest and a big move to get out of the flake system that protects the lower half. Jaime loved the initial start where she could wedge herself in, but after that it was a struggle and her arms were soon complaining:
Tomski then gave it a red hot go, getting all the way to the place where the big move is required. And it ended up being too big a move, despite him trying again, and again, and again. So began the great grade debate, by far it was the harder of the first three routes. Most people I send up it get a shock, and looking back through images I have similar ones like this one of numerous people flailing about including, Steve, Glen, Lou and Howsie at this stage. It is pretty hard to read the route and the holds are pretty average, so perhaps this one is a true sandbag:
Despite having arms calling out for a rest we marched onwards. Next was Stepping Up another original route of the crag and again graded 17. This one is a slab with small sharp holds ready to slice your fingers. Being a slab it was not a case of climbing with your arms, but balancing your way up on small fingertip and toe holds. While it is not a sustained route, with the crux definitely being the sequence to get up the bottom third, 17 may be reasonable based on the hardest move. While Tomski got very close to cracking the crux sequence it was his fingertips that finally told him to stop:
Castle Rock only has a handful of routes but they are really varied in style and also rock formations. Today Tomski and Jaime were getting a crash course of this on cracks, flakes and slabs and despite arms starting to pump and fingertips getting close to having broken skin we went for one more route. The easiest of the day, Cornflakes, coming in at grade 12. It was a nice way to finish off, with all three of us successfully getting up the route leaving a sense of satisfaction of another fun and enjoyable session:
So what should the grades of these five lines really be? I guess that would depend on who climbs them and even then each route requires a different approach and style. So it is hard to grade routes fairly when they are not climbed by lots of people or you have a preference for one style over another. For me slabs and technical climbing is easier than overhangs and rounded holds, for others it is the other way round. So while we did discuss the grades at the end of the day the tyranny of numbers, created by a grading system that comprises a single number, will no doubt never be truly and fairly be resolved at Castle Rock:
Friday night after work Lisa and I took the poodles for a walk down to the beach. The sunset was incredible, tendrils of the sole cloud bank stretched across the sky and turned yellow, orange and finally a fiery red as the sun dipped below the horizon. We stood watching the amazing show but I also had one eye on the water and noticed it looked reasonably clear, raising my hopes that I might get another dip in before the close of the shore based snorkelling season. I say that as no doubt the scuba diving conditions further out would remain for a while yet:
I had taken the quick detour over the hill to check the water, on my return from Wilyabrup yesterday. The colour distinction in the water was reasonable, which is a good sign that the water is clear enough to see the difference between the sandy bottom and reef. It was however a little choppy and I was feeling pretty beat from the climbing, so decided to postpone it till today. I went in mid-morning and as shown below the surface was glassy, but there were also a few tell-tale signs such as the beach starting to erode and eddies in the deceptively still looking water:
Added to that that the sun is not as high in the sky anymore, reducing its penetrative power. These combined factors all resulting in the visibility being on the decline. I had guessed this may be the case and as such headed out in my boardies, only expecting to be out for a short while. The water felt cold as I went in, was it changing, was the lower sun having less heating effect on my body, as I bobbed about on the surface, or maybe I was just tired. Despite immediately feeling cold and the low visibility I stayed out going up and down to see what might be lurking, which really wasn’t much:
It was pretty hard to spot anything from the surface. I did see a few fish, mostly wrasse and sweeps, and also some lovely sea stars. I then saw what looked like a black bin liner. I come across plastic bags out here more often than I would like. No doubt allowed to get washed in by some inattentive beach goer, thrown away by some careless fishing folk or possibly blown or discarded overboard from the many boats that cruise up and down the coastline. I felt like I couldn’t pass it by so decided to head down to pick it up, and then probably head back to shore:
Instead of a plastic bag I’d come across a sea hare, which are probably best known for being toxic to pets. Dogs have been known to die after ingesting the toxic slime that they exude. These creatures graze on algae and it seems they only live for one year, despite that this specimen measured from the tips of my fingers to my elbow, so about half a metre. There are nine genra of sea hares and I’m going to guess that this was Aplysia, which can grow to 60cm and is the largest species. I’m going to take a further stab and guess that the species is Gigantea, my reason being that this species at least 3 times the size of most other species of Aplysia:
Despite the glassy surface above, the water below was moving quite quickly. Being pushed back and forth by the swell, and if you look closely you can make out the sediment as it rushes past. This resulted in the weed getting in the way of a good image of the head. But with patience and lots of diving down I got a few in which the tentacles at the base of the head can be seen, these are located on either side of the mouth. The smaller antennae like appendages higher on the head are called rhinophores, which are scent or taste receptors. On the ridge along the back, it is hard to see but there is an opening visible by the flaps of flesh:
These flaps are called parapodial flaps of which there are two, which can open and close at will. They close up to help protect the gill and other organs, which previously would have been protected by a shell. Something that these creatures have discarded overtime. The flaps also protect two siphons, one to allow fresh sea water to be pumped over the gills and the other for removing deoxygenated water and waste products. As I watched this gentle giant grazing the second siphons released an excrement in the form of a pellet, something I’m guessing not many would I have seen:
I spent quite a long time observing the sea hare, before moving on and eventually the cold got the better of me and I headed to shore. On the way I came across this plant, which I have included in a previous post. I’ve managed to have it identified as the Clifton’s Garcilaria Alga. In shaded areas it is a pale pink but in open conditions, like this one, it is usually a pale green. The coating on each branch is a microscopic single-celled algae called diatoms. They are the only organism on the planet with cell walls composed of transparent opaline silica, so they actually live in a glass house:
After missing out on our recent trip to Bobs Hollow, Howsie was keen to get out this weekend to get back into it with thoughts on maybe hitting one or two grade 21s. With that in mind we headed to the Northern Blocks of Wilyabrup, which has four grade 21s. Two I’ve led, one I decided to abort while leading it resulting in a new route being established and the last I’ve never bothered with, as it leads you to a dead end and it’s a pain to then have to retrieve your gear. Already conscious that Howsie has not been out much I wondered how things would go:
There are a few lower grade routes here, but the real charm of the area are the longer routes that are graded 18 upwards. I was a little surprised to hear that Howsie had never led any of the longer lines here, and as such I offered him the rope on the first warm-up route. Corpus Delecti is a great fully trad line, but the final flake can be unnerving being a tad difficult to protect and also feeling super exposed. While I’ve led it numerous times before I have also been known to backed off it:
Howsie wandered up with great ease or so it looked from below, when I was actually watching. He indicated that he could feel his arms starting to pump out on the final flake, but just stayed calm and got on with it. That and the fact that he hadn’t led any of these routes resulted in me offering him the rope for a second lead. To the right of us the large roof, which Jug Abuse goes up, still didn’t look inviting to me. I was kinda pleased when Howsie didn’t seem to be drawn to this line either:
After scoping what was on offer he picked what I regard as one of the classics, which is saying something as nearly all of the routes here are gems. As Howsie went up again, and like before, I kept a watchful eye out for any signs of dolphins and of course held the rope. Use No SLCDs has a bit of everything on it, which is part why I like it so much. A steep start leads to a particular fun jamming crack followed by great steep face climbing that is hard to read. The only thing missing were the dolphins:
With two very fine routes under his belt it was time to decide whether he needed to get down to business, so once again I offered the rope. After leading all the routes last weekend I was more than happy to take a back seat and allow Howsie to enjoy the leads. We wandered round the corner to where two more 21s, of Green Stone and Power Your Mind are located. The first being super feisty and a bit run out and the second being the one I previously attempted and aborted half way up. Howsie looked at Green Stone and it stared back at him with an intimidating attitude, so he decided not today:
He did however like the look of Power Your Mind. Without the great ocean views I kept a watchful eye for anything unusual, of course while also diligently holding the rope. It may not seem all that exciting I did spot the above fly, one that I have ever seen before. It’s a Snail Parasitic Blowfly, and as the name suggests their larvae are known to be parasites to snails. As I observed the butterflies and flies, Howsie had already made his decision. Halfway up and after looking at the steep blank wall of Power Your Mind, like me 9 years before almost to the day, he decided that the natural line to the left was more appealing:
He was obviously tiring as he ascended this line, which I called Trust Your Instincts. It is steeper than the grade 21, but offers better holds and more gear so I gave it a grade that is a couple of notches lower. After making the decision to enjoy the natural line Howsie made his way to the start of the steep overhung blocks, where it took him a while to muster up the faith to go for it. As he was getting close to the end I saw him stutter, and his gear was some way below. Fortunately and with great relief he somehow kept his balance and made the final moves:
It was clear that he needed a break, which in his words meant dialling back the grades or me taking the lead so he could second a route. Having pre-empted this situation I was already prepared with my decision, which saw us heading back down the main wall to pick off the obvious route. The start is guarded by a slightly off vertical undercling flake, making for powerful moves before great technical and fingery climbing. Just my style and I was soon atop and as I was belaying Howsie up I was again looking out for dolphins:
Not a dolphin in sight, and I was now preparing myself to have one of those rare trips to the coast when I didn’t see them. Meanwhile Howsie was following up, very pleased to have a rope above him. Loving the line of Digital Delecti but looking super focused, the holds start to round off as you get higher. But he managed to find enough strength to hold on and work the final moves. Once standing next to me on top of the cliff, he claimed that it hadn’t quite been the break that he had been hoping for:
So to give him a break I pulled up the rap line and coiled it, suggesting we move across to the shorter lines on The Terrace. My intentions were immediately obvious, being to scope the fourth grade 21 in the area. To allow an inspection I even placed the rap rope right down line, giving Howsie the opportunity to check it out in detail and hopefully get sucked in. As he came down I could hear mumblings, and then as he came over the lower roof he let out a groan and something about that looking hard:
Despite these words, my cunning plan looked to have worked and he was soon giving it a go. This in my mind is the best 21 of the four here. It has more consistent and sustained climbing and being a fully sport route seems to be more reasonably protected. He got past the tricky start and the roof didn’t give him as much grief as he thought it might, but when he reached the second smaller overlap (below) his arms were really feeling it. As a result he took not one, but three decent whippers before he managed to figure out the moves and pull them off:
Despite feeling completed gassed and having battled for over half an hour on the route Howsie was sporting an ear to ear grin. Not surprising, while we hadn’t seen any dolphins he was rewarded with having got up Bearded Dolphin, which after all the climbing we had already done was a great achievement. We were not however quite done. It seemed rude to come here and not climb Banana Split, one of the original routes here that is nearing 50 years old and is a classic trad line. Howsie did however make it clear that it was my lead, which I was more than happy to take:
While we may not have bagged more 21s today, it didn’t stress Howsie and I get the feeling that his 2021 challenge will not be pursued with the same level of rigour as his 2020 challenge. I personally feel that is a good thing, and maybe just attempting one grade 21 on each trip out is enough. Today certainly had been great and every line was a winner. To top the morning off, as we trudged out with weary arms and legs, we came across a sand monitor. As we carefully took a wide berth round it, it just sat there allowing us to get a good look at it before we carried on back to the car:
By all accounts it had been a very sensible move on Lisa and my part to stay home over Easter. The roads had been insanely busy and there were tales of trips to local places taking twice the time or more to get too, if you were unlucky. To avoid the tourists I also hadn’t been down to the local beach, but on Monday morning it was sunny and the whirly gig on the roof of the shed was almost stationary indicating near to no wind. I stood outside and listened, not a sound of a wave to be heard. So the three ingredients of light, swell and wind all seemed promising encouraging me to head to the beach:
Despite being mid-morning it wasn’t as busy as I expected. No doubt the other end of the beach where we sometime drive would be packed, offering longer stretches for the city folk to drive their cars on the sand. There were however a few cars parked-up and there was even one crew getting ready to put a jet ski in the water, um. I decided to make a mental note of that as I went in the water. No wetsuit today just shorts, and the water felt good. Not the cold I was expecting. It was also calm and clear allowing a great view of the ground below:
Over the season the times of the hide tides having been creeping earlier and earlier in the day. At the start of the season the morning snorkel would have been at low tide, and while this may only make half to three-quarters of a meter difference it is definitely noticeable. So now when I go in, which is at hide tide, due to the extra depth to the water column having good light is important. There seemed to be lots of fish about, no large schools but plenty to see. Above is an elusive Spiny Tailed Leatherjacket. Today I didn’t dive down to check it out knowing it would just dart away, instead merely watched from above:
I did however go down every so often to see what was to be found, quietly still hoping to stumble across a few more nudibranchs. The bright orange shown above occasionally attracted my attention and each time on closer inspection was found not a nudibranch. So I am still unable to make use of Nana’s new book on them. The above I believe to be either a sponge or compound ascidian, and is still very beautiful to see. It was on one of these exploratory dives I saw a movement that intrigued me:
I had stumbled across a small octopus tetricus, which had slunk into a crevices as I had gone down. It tucked itself uptight against a purple sea urchin, and I wondered how comfortable it was feeling and also how it was avoiding the sharp spines. It did the usual dance with its eyes, bobbing them from side to side almost sizing me up to see if it was worth the risk. I came back to the surface and floated there keeping an eye on the octopus hoping it would emerge. I stayed put for a while just watching and it looked to be making moves to come out when the jet ski came uncomfortably close making me look up and also sadly lose sight of the octopus:
After looking round for ages trying to find it again I gave up, in the open ground it is hard to distinguish where you are, cursing the jet ski owner. Eventually I moved on in search of other new or exciting finds. Despite looking in many caves and under many ledges, while I saw heaps, there was nothing worth reporting on. Except that is when a cuttlefish, no doubt startled by my sudden appearance, looked to be attacking me. It’s skin went rough and its tentacles became contorted, as it made a couple of aggressive approaches at me (above). After which it went back into the protective recess away from me, and only then returning to the usual smooth skin (below):
I noted the bommie position that was very distinctive and left it alone to settle down. After pottering about a few other bommies nearby I headed back to see if it was still there. This time ready to try and video the experience. But it wasn’t, or it was hiding deeper in the matrix of holes under the large bommie, and the entrance was now being guarded by a Western Striped Cardinal Fish. These fish only grow to approx. 14cm or six inches long and this one looked fully grown. If you compare the images above it will give you an idea of just how small the cuttlefish I saw was, it really was just a baby:
I was really pleased to have had a dive over Easter and thought once more that that would be it for the snorkel season with windy weather due to come in. Then on the following Friday I got messages from Nana to say she and Geoff had been out that afternoon and saw heaps, including nudibranchs!! I had seen the conditions on Thursday and Friday and knew they were looking good, but work had got in the way. So being hopeful I headed out on Saturday and while it didn’t look great I decided to go in anyway, and was immediately greeted by a small short-tailed stingray:
I followed the ray about for a bit and even took a video, as it circled round me seemingly not wanting to head out to the deeper water. It is the first time I have seen one of these rays, and really clearly seen the distinct white dots on its pectoral fins (or wings). Eventually I did brave going out and left the ray in the near shoreline. While I could see the bottom it was not clear or calm, as the image of Lisa walking the poodles is evidence of. I carried on regardless for a while diving down and looking about but today I started to feel cold quickly, which may have had something to do with having been out climbing since the early morning and then heading straight down for a swim:
The body was definitely low on energy and added to that my calves were feeling like they may cramp up. No doubt from all the mornings climbing on slabs at Moses Rocks. So it was a short dive and I headed back to shore not finding anything as I swam over the sandy bay until I got right up against the beach, where schools of anchovies danced round me in the sand riddled waters. The cyclones in the north are pushing some weather down our way for the next few days but being ever hopefully I’ve checked the forecast and it looks like next weekend might be good for another dip, so fingers crossed:
Keen to get out after a two week break from climbing, Tomski was the only person to bite when I put the word out. The original plan was to go on Sunday but cyclone Seroja was nearing the northern coast of Western Australia, and despite being close to 800km south of where it will hit this would result in a low pressure system bringing rain to our parts. As such with the conditions on Sunday looking worse as the week progressed we changed to Saturday. This did mean I would need to be a bit more mindful of time, as Lisa and I were heading to Rongy’s engagement party later that afternoon:
As such it was a first light start, as if I need an excuse to suggest that! I gave Tomski a choice of places to go as he is only in the country for probably a month or two longer and I am keen to give him the opportunity to sample the full range of crags and rock types we are lucky enough to have here. I had in mind either some harder sport climbing at Welly Dam, so he could have a lead, or for Moses Rocks. Offering the complete opposite of (mostly) trad and generally lower grades (well that wasn’t quite true either). He plumped for the later and so it was that he drove down towards the carpark in the morning light, shortly after I had arrived:
I had a quick chat with Howsie, to see what lines he reckoned I should take Tomski up. If he only had one visit here I wanted to make sure he sampled the best stuff, and many of the lines that Howsie suggested aligned with my thinking. So it was that we headed to Hands-Up Wall to start the day. Not surprisingly with a 4m swell brewing the Zawn was out of action but that was OK as I really wanted to give Tomski a taste of slab climbing, Moses Rocks style. We started on Many Hands, a more featured part of the wall so in a way a gentle introduction of what was to come:
Despite the first route being a gentle introduction the rounded nature of the rock and lack of good edges and positive holds, both hands and feet, was immediately obvious to Tomski. He was really interested in how a place being so close to Wilyabrup could offer such a different rock, it’s true and geologically we are so lucky here to have a lot of variation. He also remarked on the flared nature of many of the features, resulting in much of my gear looking less than comforting. At a place like this you really need to know and trust the physics and capability of gear placements, not all the routes are that bad but some certainly are. It’s part of the reason others don’t climb here but also why I love this place so much, and each time I write a post about it I rave about it:
The other amazing aspect of Moses Rocks that, in my mind, makes it more striking than the main cliffs of Wilyabrup that most climbers head too is the situation. The closeness of the waves, as shown above, and view both north back to the carpark and beach and south across to Wilyabrup are stunning. You get to see right down the barrel of the waves as they roll into the bays on either side. As we walked in Tomski was immediately struck by the situation and was loving it, another person converted! Added to that with today’s crisp cool morning and light easterlies to keep the spray away we had picked the perfect day to be here:
Next up was Gothic Streak and then what I regard as probably one of the scariest routes here Hands Up. These two lines are graded the same, which is probably fair for difficulty, but the latter follows by far the most flared and shallow crack Moses Rocks has on offer. With no other opportunities for gear, Tricams are perfect for this but they really don’t look that secure. Tomski on second didn’t need to worry about that aspect, which was good as he was having to get used to trusting friction and really working on his footwork. The first three lines were up the slightly more generously angled slabs, but we were slowing moving rightwards:
This meant approaching the blunt arête of Hands-Up Wall where the next route went, Fat Slags. It was at this point that I had to explain a few things to Tomski, firstly the names. You may recall from earlier posts the names of quite a few routes here have been taken from Viz comics. A classic and at times viewed as an inappropriate British comic from the 1980s (http://viz.co.uk/). I doubt in this day and age you would get away with such a comic, and no doubt some of the names used for the routes here will be called out over time, as societal tolerances, views and perceptions change:
Fat Slags was the route that would really show Tomski what Moses offered, there are places on this route that there are no hand holds and it is all footwork. I’m not sure if he believed me when I said this, but when he reached the crux (above) he looked up and said something like “you really did mean there are no holds didn’t you”. He had to work the crux sequence, but it was a learning experience and one he was eager to make the most of. My intention had been to skip the next line, and come back to it. But when I showed him the line Tomski was keen to keep ticking the lines from right to left:
Now before we get to the next line the second thing I had to explain was the strange Australian bolt plate. This was a new concept to Tomski, and so I explained how they worked which is pretty straight forward. He also asked the obvious question of why they were used, so he got my view related to cost fully understanding that is not everyone’s view. But that said seeing the mix of carrots (whether glue or bashed in), hangers and ring bolts on so many crags I reckon my theory has merit. Either that or the climbing communities care or worry about other possible reasons of visual impact has changed. Above Tomski has finally reached the better high holds and last bolt plate on Johnny Fartpants:
As we moved from right to left the routes were getting harder starting at grade 14 and for route number five we were at 19. And it was on Johnny Fartpants, which is close to vertical that I had to explain that on the steeper sections some hand (or should I say fingertip, if you are lucky) holds are not for pulling on. They are just to balance on. On several sections on this route they are so small that unless you have built up experience on using them you wouldn’t give them a second glance. Tomski found this out the hard way and spent a long time figuring out how he was going to get up this route, but he eventually managed it and was still smiling when he did:
Fortunately the next route in line was Wheely Things, what I reckon to be the crag classic. Unlike all the slabs and shallow flared cracks of the previous routes, this deep crack offered great jamming and loads of gear. But beware it is guarded by an initial crack that seems to fox many people. And after the battle he had on the previous route it did perplex a weary Tomski for a while. After a false start or two he got past that and then got stuck into the rest of the crack line and loved it, as shown by a few picture above and then the smiling happy face in the above image after finishing the route:
I still had oodles of energy and was keen to keep going. It is not that I didn’t have to focus or work on the routes, I just have them dialled and can dance my way up them. Although I have to admit I can’t recall when I last climbed or led Johnny Fartpants (sorry just had to get that name in one more time ha ha), so was pleased with how I went on that one. I think having stepped down to a grade 15 had given Tomski renewed energy, and the next one called Twist Till You Lock I knew would bump things up. So I did suggest we could bypass this one but he was keen and he will only now hear that it was grade 21. Something I hope will give him some comfort in why he found it so challenging:
It is not a route I have often led and the final roof feels super tricky, but also super safe with a bolt right at the final moves. Too tricky for even wearier Tomski when he got to it and I thought he may have been done by then, but no… The next more prominent arête up which Victor and His Boa Constrictor ascends appealed to him. So off I went one more time, loving the delicate nature of the climbing here. The bottom moves are steep and make use of more holds not meant to be pulled on, and from the offset Tomski was waning. It looked like every move was punishing him right up until the final glory jug could be reached. And even then the following mantle was looking like it was hard work:
Cornish Nasty awaited round the corner, the last of the longer routes on Hands Up Wall. But Tomski was toast and deservedly so, having worked really hard on several of the stiffer lines here. I think it is also fair to say he fully enjoyed the morning, location and every route we did so I do hope I can bring him back here before he heads off. There are other sections of this long drawn out climbing area, with more varied and interesting routes that are so worth exploring. With a bit of luck we can snag equally great conditions next time. And if we do make it back, to avoid Tomski burning out mid-session, I might suggest not going at the routes in the such an orderly fashion:
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:
