15 August 2013 - Port Lincoln Tourist Park, Port Lincoln, South Australia

The wind had dropped to a pleasant breeze by the time we woke, a relief after yesterday’s blustery blasts we battled as we travelled south to Port Lincoln. The sun was out in a clear sky, which suited our plans, whatever they were to be. Indeed, we had not really firmed anything up although all the ideas had been thrown up in the air last evening.

After a load of washing was double pegged to the line, lunch packed in the eski, we headed off out to the Lincoln National Park, which incorporates the total triangular Jussieu Peninsula, an area of 291 square kilometres, the entry of which lies a mere ten kilometres south west of the town.

The park boasts spectacular ocean views, sandy beaches and sheltered camping spots, and indeed it has all that. There were few enjoying the park today, about five camping parties in delightful coastal hideaways, and three parties including ourselves, driving about exploring all the treasures on offer.

We enjoyed the expansive views back over Proper and Boston Bays toward Port Lincoln, and views out to the many islands that shelter the wonderful anchorage and port that lies here at the southern end of the Eyre Peninsula. The largest of these islands, Boston Island, has a land mass of approximately 1,000 hectares and has been used principally for sheep grazing over the past 150 years. Apparently the current owner is looking to develop it for tourism; today it looked quite impressive in the sunshine, green cleared land inviting my later research. Many of the other small islands about are part of the National Park.

Much is made in the park of Matthew Flinders’ landing, in search for water, in 1802, and his climbing to the top of Stamford Hill for the same, and the excellent views. I was interested to read on one of the signs that his ship was described as “leaking and rotting”. I have much admiration for these early explorers, even more now understanding he made his way around the southern shores of the continent in a leaky boat.

Subsequent to his survey, the land was settled by a small number of Europeans, mainly along Cape Donington where the first grain crop was sewn in 1875. Other industries in the area included woodcutting, grazing and guano mining. The National Park was established in 1941, which means the two items of old grain cropping machinery we came upon, must have been used prior to then.

Random abandoned farm machinery

We drove up to the northern tip of the peninsula, Cape Donington, where the lighthouse of the same name is located. Nearby stands the Donington Cottage; this looks out over Spalding Cove and is available for seaside holiday rent. We parked up by the lighthouse, a fairly modern looking structure, despite the fact it was built way back in 1905, and looked out to sea where we could see a number of large cargo vessels, perhaps waiting to load with grain, and a number of smaller vessels which we decided later were probably part of the fishing industry. We also saw distant pontoon arrangements that we guessed to be something to do with marine farming, but more of that later. The road across the peninsula to Taylors Landing was gravel but well maintained; there was little here but a steep concrete boat launching pad and a beach meant for the wild things rather than human presence. There is a camp site here but it would only appeal to someone wanting isolation rather than charm.

Wanna on the western coast of the peninsula, high above the cliffs of Sleaford Bay, was however very appealing although signs warned of dangerous currents, unstable cliffs, submerged rocks, uneven surfaces, freak waves, slippery rocks and an altogether dangerous environment. We wandered along the cliff top, well back from the edge, stepping carefully around the exquisite rock plants, many in flower and all very beautiful. The rugged cliffs were spectacular, as promised, and the sea was wild and unpredictable. We were glad we had made the effort.

From this road, tracks veer off into the massive golden sand dunes, where boys can play with their toys, or rather, those who treat their expensive 4WD vehicles with disdain, can do their own thing away from the sight of more sensible people.

Outside the park, we continued south, just for a few kilometres, travelling beside the Sleaford Mere, a shallow slip of a lake covering about 520 hectares. When you look at a map of this area, you can well imagine that it would take very little for the Peninsula to become an island.

We saw evidence of the fire that burned in this area just last year in November, the skeletons standing bare above the regrowth., and later earned that at least twenty two dwellings were burnt to the ground. How awful!

This pale blue lake fascinated us so we did a little more research, in the absence of signage. We learned that the stromatolite cyanobacteria, that fascinating life form encountered at Hamlin Pool, can be found here too, in this land locked salt lake.

Just beyond the end of the lake, we arrived back at Sleaford Bay, but here on very low cliffs. There were several vehicles parked along the top of the cliff, all at risk of being wetted by the sea spray. We sat and watched the eight or so wetsuit-clad surfers waiting for the right wave, sometimes riding a promising one for just a few seconds. I guess that those nano-seconds of thrill seem a lot longer when you are there; like many crazy things we do.

The afternoon was getting on so we turned and headed back to town, wanting to find out about aquaculture tours. On the return we passed several fish factories, and support industries.

Curiously, when speaking to my parents on Skype last night, my father had asked about the fish farming he had seen a documentary on; was that somewhere near here? Yes, we answered, and immediately decided that we would find out first-hand about it. His memory served him well; his story tantalising to us who like to find out how things work.

At the Information Centre we learned there were three options available:

·         The Triple Bay Tour sounded the most appropriate, however he only goes out if he has four or more takers and then only if the conditions were appropriate. Today the wind was at 19 knots, the edge of acceptable. The forecast over the next four days is for worsening conditions, and we are not willing to hang about until Tuesday or beyond. This tour did seem to offer more of an educational aspect of aquaculture which would have best suited us.

·         Adventure Bay Charters offer the opportunity to swim with the tuna in a pseudo tuna farm tank, however the emphasis seems to be more on fun than education.

·         And The Fresh Fish Place offers demonstrations of fish processing which no doubt includes gutting and filleting, all operations we have seen or done ourselves in the past, although they do apparently serve wonderful fish and chips.

We were saved from having to make any decision by an excellent DVD playing in the Centre explaining aquaculture here in Port Lincoln and surrounds. Here we had confirmed much of what my father had told us last night, that tuna are captured off the Continental Shelf in the Great Australian Bight, using purse seine netting. The live fish are transferred into a tow cage and towed back at a maximum steed of one know to the holding farms within Port Lincoln.

Here they are fed, often with thawed mackerel or sardines, some caught locally and some brought in in massive frozen blocks, until the tuna are twice their arrival size. The whole process is monitored by the Japanese buyers’ representatives and by the appropriate government authorities. When an order is received from Japan, specific in size and number, divers catch each fish by hand within the tank, the fish is humanly killed by the ikejime method, then gutted, washed, packed, trucked to Adelaide then flown to Japan. The time from catching to buyer in Japan is about 48 hours.

Watching the DVD, I was impressed by the “exact science” of the whole operation but surprised to see how many people were involved in the process. It struck me as being very labour intensive. However, it does create a lot of employment for those here, although much of the labour is seasonal.

Yellow tailed kingfish, yabbies, marron and oysters are also a major part of the fish industry, and of course, major employers.

The Eyre Peninsula is home to the largest commercial fishing fleet in the Southern Hemisphere. With only 2.2% of the State’s population, the Eyre Peninsula produces over 60% of Southern Australia’s seafood, while the grain growers produce 30% of the State’s grain harvest.

And so we returned home this afternoon much better informed than we had left, and with resolve to extend our stay here in Port Lincoln at least one extra day. Alas the weather forecast is not good for the next three or so days; we shall just have to make the best we can.