Great gusty northerlies have been buffeting us and everything about all day, however the temperatures have been over 36 degrees. The same winds and temperature are affecting performance on the tennis courts across at Melbourne; however there is apparently a change expected later today. This I am sure will be welcome to all.
We spent the earlier part of the morning washing the rig and the solar panel, doing laundry and our everyday chores, rescuing fellow camper’s towels and awnings from flying skyward, and it was not until nearly 11 am that we left the park for our day’s expedition, this time westwards to Port Fairy. This little seaside town is a stopover destination for most travellers such as ourselves, as they travel across the border in to Victoria and head for the Great Ocean Road. We had detoured north to take in the Grampians and the towns to the north east, and so would have missed this charming spot had we not made the effort to do a side trip today.
This historic village is set on the Moyne River as it enters Port Fairy Bay, within sight of Warrnambool and Tower Hill. The first European visitors were the Bass Strait sealers on hunting expeditions from Tasmania, who were not particularly good at keeping written records. It is known however that Captain Wishart in his cutter, the Fairy, became caught in a storm and found shelter here. He named the bay in honour of his ship.
News of this safe anchorage and fresh water source soon spread and a whaling station was established here. In 1835 one John Griffiths purchased the whaling station and the island at the river mouth now bears his name. Those that followed soon found the rich volcanic soil and brought sheep and cattle across from Tasmania, and thus began the agricultural industry of the region. The town itself was first named Belfast, after the birth place of one of those first settlers; however in 1887 the name was changed to Port Fairy.
It is interesting to consider this as a safe harbour; the southerly Antarctic winds blow straight into the bay and long seawalls have had to be constructed far out from the mouth to give a safe run in for sea craft. We witnessed some today, fighting the surf and winds and were glad we were not on board. But then, a little to the west, the shore directly facing the Southern Ocean is far more exposed and unfriendly as a launching place.
When we arrived in Port Fairy, we called into the Visitor Centre to establish where the public dump was, having brought our waste cassette with us (as one does!), dealt with that, and then returned to the centre of the village busy with holiday crowds. The streets were congested with tourists, families of four or five, with pushchairs and dogs, and it was quite an effort to make one’s way through. As well as this, the little cafes had outdoor tables and chairs jammed on the outer edge of the pavement; there was an atmosphere of holiday bedlam, and yet it also gave a wonderful vibrancy to the place. There are quite a few very lovely old buildings in the town (the old ANZ bank built in 1853 comes to mind) but the rest are a bit run down and shabby, and yet today with the milling colourful happy people, it did not matter.
Like Warrnambool, Port Fairy is a wonderful holiday destination and is a down to earth place, without pretentious glitz and glamour. It is not as smart as its neighbour; however it does not claim to be a rural and regional centre. What it does have to its credit however, is a very proactive business community set on making the most of the summer crowds. There is an endless (or rather month long) festival in town to keep the tourists entertained, happy and willing to dispense with their pennies. We spent half an hour or so watching a show put on by a couple of girls under the banner of Wild Action. When I later googled this I found it to be the brain child of Chris Humphry whose animal antics have been the subject of a series of television documentaries. The girl who did the presentation was just marvellous, an absolute natural with the kids, to whom the show was directed. While we watched she introduced to the spellbound children and us, a tawny frog-mouth, a very strange lumpy stubby tailed lizard, a crocodile of about 1.2 metres and a black headed python which reached her knees on both sides when she wrapped it scarf-like around her neck. This was all part for the free entertainment for the tourists; the children (and adults) enjoyed it greatly.
We drove to a park the sea side of the river and sat in shade still in the wind; even the thermos was at risk standing on the table. After lunch we walked across a footbridge and down the river, past the launching ramps and the wharf, across on to Griffiths Island and along the seawall to the mouth of the river. There were times I thought I would take off in the wind, or at least be lifted and dumped into the scrubby reserve. Apart from modesty factors, a skirt is not the most practical garment to wear in such windy conditions! Returning to the landcruiser, we then drove along the exposed southern coastline, past smart modern holiday homes, exposed to the elements and with views of a bare horizon. Below the low cliffs, lagoons sheltered by rocky reefs were full of families enjoying the sun and cooler water.
From here we drove back to camp, to watch more of the tennis and to catch up with emails. We will not bother with the awning again today, having put it away this morning. I am glad we did not head back on the road today as our immediate neighbour did. The wind would have made the towing quite hideous.
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