24 October 2012 - Bega Caravan Park, Sapphire Coast, NSW

Yesterday was spent in an unexceptional manner, starting with an incredibly late emergence from our mountain of blankets, added to during one of the coldest nights in a long while.

Over breakfast we decided to extend our stay by a couple of days, to allow us to spend the day about camp instead of rushing off to take in the geographical wonders of Bega and the surrounding region.

We made our way down to the Bega Valley Regional Art Gallery which boasts about a hundred and twenty worthy works by well-known artists. Yesterday however, these were all hidden away in the basement and instead there was an exhibition of paintings by Nicola Dickson based on the drawings of George Raper, midshipman on the First Fleet of 1787 – 88. The originals are stored in treasure houses around the globe including the familiar Alexander Turnbull Library in Wellington and they have all been published in a work titled Birds and Plants of Australia. The exhibition was very pleasant but not memorable.

We were back at the caravan park by midday and lunched while watching the third and final debate between Obama and Romney, live on television. We will be watching the election on 7 November with great interest. I, personally, am glad I don’t have to vote in the USA; the choice is a difficult one.

Having spent the day so far in a rather sedentary manner, we drove back down into town and wandered up and down the very pleasant street of Bega, purchasing a few hose fittings and generally appreciating the excellent services here.

The Princes Highway runs right through the middle of the town which adds to the hustle and bustle of the place, however I am sure all concerned can hardly wait for the bypass currently under construction, to be completed. We have met up with a couple of men staying here in park who are actively employed on this big local works; one is a New Zealander who fell on hard times during the GFC. He has NZMCA wings pasted across the back of his rather grand motorhome so we had to check him out.

The coastline at Tathra

This morning we stirred ourselves and set off for a wonderful tour up the coast along one of the several tourist drives on offer. We set off for Tathra, just eighteen kilometres up and over dale and flood plains, all lush and busy with the business of dairy farming. We arrived at this charming seaside settlement which sits high above the rocky shoreline in the bright sunshine and the Pacific Ocean stretching out forever beyond. We drove down to the old historic steamer wharf, now classified by the National Trust, the only open-sea timber wharf on Australia’s East Coast. It was built in 1860 and stayed in use until 1954. It subsequently started to disintegrate and was ordered to be demolished in 1973; however the Trust and locals decided otherwise. It was reopened in 1988 and was certainly in use today by quite a few fisher folk and tourists such as ourselves.

We walked up across the rugged headland adjacent to the wharf and marvelled at the views; all of it reminding us of the rocky shores around Warrnambool and the seaside settlements on the south east coast of South Australia.

It is here at Tathra that the Bega River arrives at the sea, or rather a little to the north, through the Mogareeka Inlet, a charming estuary inviting picnickers, kayakers, swimmers and just those who appreciate lovely scenes. The golden beach between here and the rocky outcrop near the wharf is a draw card for holiday makers and is very pretty indeed.

Tathra boasts a population of about 1,600 and was first settled by Europeans in the 1820s and 1830s, although it was outside the limits of legal settlement, the Nineteen Counties. The original jetty was built in the early 19^th century and served until the larger one which still standing today.

This was my first encounter with the concept of Nineteen Counties and “limits of legal settlement”. In 1826, the counties of New South Wales were defined by Darling, the Governor of New South Wales, and limited to just nineteen, having started with Cumberland County in 1788 and those around Sydney being added along the way. Settlors were only allowed to take up land within the defined area. From 1831 there was no more free land granted and the only land that was for sale was within those Nineteen Counties. The area covered the limit extended to Kempsey in the north, Batemans Bay in the south and Wellington to the west.

The counties were mapped by Major Thomas Mitchell in 1834. Despite uncertainty about the whole business of land tenure, squatters ran large numbers of sheep and cattle beyond the boundaries. From 1836 they could legally do so, paying ten pounds per year for the right. From 1847 leases in unsettled areas were allowed for up to 14 years. In 1861, the Robertson Land Act allowed free selection and the limits of location were made redundant.

Another piece of history to add to my expanding knowledge.

We pressed on up the coast, soon passing through great swathes of the Mimosa Rocks National Park. The park is named for the rocks that many ships were wrecked upon in bygone years, however exactly which rocks these are, we were unable to ascertain. It covers an area of 5,802 hectares and runs for twenty kilometres up the coast, taking in sandy beaches, headlands, cliffs, offshore rocks and coastal lagoons. We turned toward the coast and drove in through a forest of spotty gums and beautiful low palms, down to the Middle Lagoon which lays just metres from the sea, separated by the smallest of sand walls, surely breached during spring tides or wild storms. We saw black swans and swamp wallabies and heard the noisy carillon of a thousand bell miners. We took a short walk through to the lagoon and along its shore, much of it currently under water and delighted in the nature about us.

After lunch we wandered through to the camping ground, available only to those in tents. The camp sites are some distance from where one would need to park one’s car, there is no water (apart from the saline sea waters) and the long drop toilets, which were quite acceptable today, no doubt reek in the summer. For the privilege of camping here, a family of four during the school holidays could stay a fortnight here paying just $30 per day; $10 per day per person and $5 for each child between five and fifteen. Personally we find that exorbitant for such “accommodation” and poor facilities, however there are obviously those who would consider that good value. And it probably is when you compare it with say, a day in a serviced apartment at a seaside resort.

We stood on one of the lookout platforms and watched a couple of surfies venture out into the pristine surf and wait for The Big One. Our patience ran out before theirs and we agreed that it must be one of the most mind numbing sports.

Thirty kilometres further up the road we arrived at lovely Bermagui, even if it does have a rather unlovely sounding name. Bermagui together with nearby Wallaga Lake, has a population of about 1,800 and seems to have a reasonable assortment of shops and services you would expect a seaside settlement to have, including the ever necessary homeopathic clinic. How do these people survive?! Well actually I do know; not very well and in the same fashion that other new age activities manage, normally as a secondary income to real work or a government benefit.

Pelicans waiting for the return of the fishermen

We drove around the residential area and then parked down by the breakwater, beside which is a wonderful shark proof fenced seawater swimming pool. The water was so clear and inviting that I could have almost been tempted. There were some quite large yachts tied up in the marina and many more pelicans waiting patiently beside the fish cleaning benches for their daily rations.A little to the north, the horizon was filled with the outline of Mount Dromedary. Indeed a lovely spot.

Back in 1936, the famous American author Zane Grey came here to do a spot of game fishing. He was so impressed that he made a point to spread the word about Bermagui. He did return a few times, however it cannot have been too many; he died in 1939.

From here, one has the choice of heading back west to the Princes Highway or continuing north along the coast, past Wallaga Lake, a large lagoon of water not unlike Middle Lagoon visited earlier, but much more attractive for recreational use. And it was this way we went.

Soon we turned south again on the Princes Highway, joining the traffic, frequently pulling over to let the more determined through and on their way. It was just over sixty kilometres back to Bega, passing through the quaint town of Cobargo, still sporting many shops and other buildings dating back to the 19^th century. We didn’t stop, but might well do so when we travel back north. It certainly seems to have character.

Before we returned to camp, Chris popped into the local Toyota dealer to suss out cost and time availability for the next service of the landcruiser. Ten thousand kilometres seems to have come around very quickly, but then we should expect nothing less travelling as we are.

Back at camp we found ourselves surrounded with other caravans, very much busier than last night when we were the only caravan in this patch on the rise.