Punsand

 

Back on the Pajinka road, travelling south we came to the Punsand Beach turn off. At the intersection, the Crock Tent sits. This tent, literally a tent, is a souvenir shop, lots of cars were parked and every one was shopping for their cape nick knacks. Unfortunately, most were made in China. It didn’t stop them though, they bought up big, everything, with I’ve been to the cape plastered over it. Din did get some little things for the grand-kids.

Leaving them to it, we continued on to Punsand. The camp ground was also doing a roaring trade, booked out for weeks, not that we were interested in camping there.

As Din missed out on seeing the actual tip of Australia, we inquired about the helicopter flight operating from there. It would be a shame to come all this way and not be able to go the last 800m. We booked a flight, we don’t often spend up big on non essential things, but this was worth it. After being delayed for an hour or so because of rain squalls around the tip, we were told it was on. 

With the rotor of the helicopter rapidly gaining momentum, our pilot checked all was good with his machine, and us, then said, “OK we’re off”, as the skids left the sand and we gained height over the ocean the islands dotted around the coastline came more sharply into view. Skirting the coast, we travelled north. Din in the front, next to the pilot and me in the back, with the noise of the rotors and shuddering of the motor, as well as the wind blowing through the open doorways filling our senses. Then, banking to the right, we were rounding the very top of Australia. The rugged, rocky point jutting out into the ocean with Wamilug(York Island) only a stones throw away from the tip. Hovering for a few moments, then moving down the east coast for a bit we surveyed the craggy coastline, then retraced our flight path, a bit further out this time, over some small islands and eventually landing back on the beach.

Another experience that will stay with us forever. Thanking our young pilot, we headed for the bar and had a drink and recounted the experience.

Up the track a bit was a free camp by the beach, off we went up the somewhat rough, sandy track, with poor old Ned tipping at impossible angles at some parts due to one wheel track dropping down far below the other in some washouts, he kept his balance however and we made it through. Finding a level patch by the beach we set up camp. Next day it was back south for us, as more and more campers were turning up where we were. We called into Uncle Toms place, the man we met at Loyalty beach camp, and had lunch with him, of chicken and chips, which we had bought at Seisia on the way through.

He was slow cooking a huge fish on a grill, over a small fire, he had caught the fish in the creek that morning.

“Him a bone fish, going to be for the cat”, he said, “too many bones” although he said he would probably have some himself. He was very welcoming, but we didn’t camp as I think he had others coming to stay. After another good chat, we said a fond farewell, and continued on.