22 Mar 10 - Beachport to Kingston

By Lou: Our intention was to find somewhere on the coast of South Australia to plonk for a week or so but we weren’t sure where to head. The park rangers at Naracoorte recommended Canunda National Park to camp so we headed there. Beautiful as it was, the campground was set a ways back from the water in the sand dunes and only had very small spaces so we kept driving. We spent one night at Beachport Conservation Park next to Lake George which was great as an overnighter but we were still searching for the ideal spot.

Lake George looked pretty low and unimpressive but an information board assured us that at the right time of year it is home to thousands of migratory birds and I can imagine transforms into quite a different landscape.

Not far from our camp Craig spotted a 4WD track and suggested we take it as an alternative to the highway to head to Kingston where he had been assured he could get his fishing rods repaired. “It’s just a couple of k’s and we’re there”, he assures me. So I jump in the back with Sam to start school and it quickly becomes too bumpy to do any schoolwork so we abandon that and enjoy the track. After about 20 minutes we are on an obvious track but Karen, our GPS, tells us we are in the water.
So we laugh at silly old Karen and continue on until we’re stopped in our tracks by a huge expanse of water, we deduce to be the joining of 2 lakes. I ask Craig to activate the hovercraft function, as surely that was one of the bells and whistles he brought in the months leading up to the trip. It quickly transpires that this did not happen (budget constraints he claims) and he will bear the weight of my disappointment forever. I, on the other hand rose to the occasion and swiftly produced some sandwiches, prepared earlier, and we munched and contemplated our next step.

After consulting a map we worked out where we may have missed a turn so backtracked. We continued on a peninsula for a few kilometres, with Lake St Clair on one side and the Southern Ocean on the other. Progressively the track became more and more narrow with lots of overhanging branches. Sam and I had to jump out on a few occasions and move boughs out of the way while Craig rocked the vehicle back and forth to tease the trailer through. We got through those snags and suddenly the track brought us to the foot of some sand dunes. I voted to turn around and find a bitumen road but if there’s one thing distasteful to Craig, it’s going back over old ground. So with a lump in my stomach we headed over a vast sand dune with just an inkling of which direction we should be headed.

We ended up on the beach and followed that north for a ways and then spotted an orange marker depicting a 4WD track so headed inland and followed the posts over hill and down dale. Craig was in his element. I was cranky because my school lesson was shot and we’d been bumping around in the back for 3 hours by now and we didn’t even know if there was an end to it all and even if there was, where would that be? I was kicking myself that I hadn’t dropped by the local information centre as I’m sure we could have picked up a map given there were track markers everywhere. Any way, after getting some directions from totally unexpected quarters (see Craig’s story below) we made it back to a main road to my relief and headed to Kingston Caravan Park.


By Craig: Beachport simply, as said by Lou, was an overnight stop. A drive into Beachport town centre found a nice cup of coffee but we really wanted to find “the spot” on the SA coastline so we had to move on. Looking for a little 4wd experience I encouraged Lou to head left not right and head off a track next to Lake George and we commenced winding our way along a scenic path until stopped by water. After lunch we backtracked and located where we had mistakenly turned off the track and we continued on to what I believed was a 4wd track to Kingston. The adventure of the day really started when Lou said "there’s a tree branch blocking the trailer going forward” and I said “well the car can’t go backwards because the tree branch is blocking that". So after moving the tree we looked ahead to what was a slow rise up to the top of a 10m sand dune At moments like this I think of Australia’s coat of arms symbolising the emu and kangaroo which can’t move backwards but not wanting to just bludgeon my way forward I decided to walk over the dune to see where the “track” went. As I got to the crest of what I thought was the only sand dune, I quickly realised that for as far as I could see, all there was WAS sand dunes and I thought to myself, “Bloody Lou would love this”. So I quickly returned back down the sand dune, chuffed “She’ll be right” and proceeded to deflate the tyres to approximately 20psi to aid in transversing over soft dunes.

As the day proceeded we ventured up and down over and around numerous sand dunes all over 10m plus and found ourselves following a 4wd track which eventually led to Nora Creina (but we didn't know that at this point). This was the beginning of a new problem, finding a place to get off the beach. So as we adventured on the beach, up into the dunes, back out of the dunes, along the beach some more, an exit off the beach appeared more elusive. By chance as we were reversing back from a sand dune which was way too high to attempt, Louise exclaimed “there’s people on the beach!” which to our surprise we had not seen on the way through. Although there were certainly people on the beach they were nudists which was confirmed as we got closer by Sam calling out “they’ve got no clothes on!”. Louise turned to provide Sam with a quick lesson in discretion as I wound down the window to converse with the couple emerging from the water.

Understanding that not only were they nudists but also foreigners they were unaware of a beach exit however I was directed to a camp 'just over the hill' to obtain more local information. So I quickly commenced tracking over the hill on foot and commenced a slow jog. Approximately 2km later I arrived at the camp. In my haste, what I hadn’t twigged to was that this would be a nudist camp and upon arriving I quickly sighted a gentleman standing in his caravan. Not sure of his name but let's just call him Long John and I asked for directions. In the back of my mind I was thinking 'please don’t stand up, just point the way off the beach. No! DON’T POINT!. Just tell me'. However, all was good, directions were given and I commenced my 2km jog back to the car. After arriving back to the car I advised Louise the way off the beach was just a little way ahead at Nora Creina. And we departed quickly as it was obvious the tide was on its return. Once off the beach, a quick inflation of the tyres and we were on our way to Kingston.