SleoAei BaihiiL' -7ho®i'
FOD COUNTBY WOMEN
DEAR CHRONICLE READERS. You will be thinking that my life is full of holiday jaunts when I tell you that I have been away again in the country, but I must defend myself against any criticism of a leisured course of living by telling you also that I am usually on business bent when 1 step down on the accelerator and leave the city behind.. Granted that even then pleasure walks hand in hand with work, as you know by my letters to you, yet in most of my country trips I cannot be timeless. I cannot linger where I would, as I so often know to my sorrow. I must move on to different places on different days and at different times of day in an ordered schedule. So tit is lost jaunt, although of necessity much too short for my liking, wos particularly enjoyable because days and times of day followed without organised plan of movement or action. Where this time, you wonder? Well, if was to the lower end of Yorke Peninsula again. You will remember that last year in June I told you of a trip to Corney Point, but this year we did not get quite sc far westward, ond instead saw more country on the eastern side. Again this year, there was the good bitumen road from the city through to Yorketown, passing the large inland Yorke Peninsula towns of Moitland and Minlaton, which almost burst with civic pride in their grand tree planting schemes. Yorketown had an added asset in the lagoon in which its interesting irregular building line was outlined in reflection on the approach from the north, and then the bi-nmen road continued to the seaside township of Edithburgh. Edithburgh, set on the cliffs cbove the gulf, with the mile long sand-girt Troubridge Island visible across the water by day, and its revolving guiding light visible by night, was our headquarters this year It was glorious in the strong ftesh air of the early morning to watch the sun touch the tops of the hills on the other side of the gulf, and sparkle on the intervening sea.
We wandered along the cliff tops with a grand sense of freedom to the little boat harbor with its neatly stacked nets and other fishing equipment, by which, incidentally, we found Sultana House. You may remember that I quoted some time . ago an advertisement ftom an old South Australian publication about the many amenities provided for holiday makers in this cne-time boarding house, and when I quoted 1 said I had not noticed so lorge a building as described when on a previous visit to Edithburgh Now it is three buildings, as a reader later told us. I wonder whence the i-'Ome 'Sultana' came. Nearby is Sultana Point, after which I presume the house was named, but my book of place names does not mention the origin of the naming of this landmark. It was probably v name given by Matthew Flinders, who napped out so much of this coastline and gave the landmarks particularly simple names according to his impressions of them, but I cannot imagine how a point of land
could be reminiscent of a sultana Maybe my line of thought is entirely -\yrong, and some reader will set me right. Instead of telling you now of our delightful trips out from Edithburgh, 1 -will leave those for a letter of their own next week, and finish this letter about our homeward route around the coast. Twice previously, in both cases many years ago, 1 had travelled along the sea coast — or gulf coast — from Port Vincent to Ardrossan, and around to Port Wakefield, and my memories were of an undulating track through scrub with almost constant delightful glimpses of the water. I was keen, therefore, to know if memory was serving me in good stead or whether time had lent it enchantment, but the whole drive was thoroughly enjoyable, and one which I would not hesitate to name among the State's loveliest. With the exception of a very few corrugations, the road was good, with the occasional switchbacks I had remembered, although I believe that
»♦♦♦ + »?»♦♦♦♦♦♦♦♦♦*?♦ + »* m after wet weather the motorist may rneet a few difficulties betwer* Ardrossan and Port Wakefield. We ; were fortunate in missing them, however. : The southern part of the road, which was new to me, took us : through peaceful little CoDbowie and busy Wool Bay to Stansbury. ; Yorke Peninsula has on unusually great and varied supply of mineral . resources for its area, and at Wool -Boy the tronsport problem is greatly lessened because the great cliffs of limestone sheer from the sea are quarried right beside the wharf '. fnDm which ships take away the product for cement for building ? purposes. Stansbury was a very pleasant surprise from the moment we first caught sight of the homes amid the trees on a small promontory jutting out into the gulf, until we wound down into the neat township with its attractive sea front planted with Norfolk Island pines. Straight across the gulf rose the Mount Lofty Ranges clearly defined, and 1 made a mental note to spare more time some day in the tuture for this comparatively little known resort. Then came Port Vincent, which had grown tremendously since I last passed through it, and has now almost a sophisticated air in comparison with its componiod townships atong the gulf side. U is definitely a lovely place for a holiday, and 1 noted the well situated camping reserve of which 'Old Hat' wrote to us some time ago. i noted also the sea level cemetery from which he quoted some interesting headstone inscriptions, and I even had a guess as to the site of the ravine, of which 'Cymra' wrote tc us at the time of a sudden overwarning flood. All alor-g the coast, south of Port Vincent, and north through Port Julia and Pine point, up to Ardrossan, I could not help comparing the charming seaside settlements with those of mud bank fome, if fame it con be called, on this side of the gulf north of Adelaide. The well laid out town of Ardrosson stood high above its red cliffs ond here, as in other ports with jetties along this coast, were large sheds to house ihe bags of barley to be taken away by boat, just as we find large sheds by the railway stations in the north for storing wheat to be taken away by train. I realised that, with barley and mineral products to be transported from the Peninsula, there must be more sea traffic from these ports than I hod imagined. Further north, at Port Price, for instance, were the fourishing salt works — in this case the salt being precipitated from sea water instead of from inland lakes and lagoons as in the south of the Peninsula — ond then, across, lowlying flors, came Port Clinton and 1he continuing road around the top of the gulf to join the bitumen road into Port Wckefieid. Next week, as I have said, I will tell you about the places visited at the lower end of the Peninsula. For this week, farewell, with best wishes from
Eleanor Barbour's Page
FOR COUNTRY WOMEN
DEAR CHRONICLE READERS — Last week I said I would tell you about some day trips out from Edithburgh, and I may as well warn you at the outset that we had some keen scientists in our party, and
that, therefore, our destinations were governed by the scientific in-terests of the various localities. Fortunately for us, these destina-tions were also most picturesque, and we spent some delightful hours admiring the glories of nature and at the same time keeping a wary eye open for a cherished find in the flora or fauna line. For one of these outings we were fortunate to have the guidance of "Ever Perky Comrade," otherwise I am sure we would never have dared to open seemingly private gates and cross seemingly private ploughed fields to find our goals, nor would we have known which way to go. This was the day we were seeking Troubridge Hill on the south coast, one of the sites of unusual fossils in southern Yorke Peninsula. We drove alongside miles of limestone fences, many of them two feet and more wide, some neat and tidy with their top layer of larger stones, and some without this protection falling into disrepair. We passed through the little settlement of Honiton, and I wondered if it had any connection with the noted English town of lace fame, but my book on place names gives me no guide on this point, so once again I shall have to rely on an explanation from any reader who can give it. We then turned towards the coast and our destination of Trou-bridge Hill, and with the informa-tion that somewhere along this coast there was a two foot layer of limestone imbedded with fossils called fibularia gregata, we were more or less turned loose to find it. We did, although it was not easy, but probably luck was with us, espe-cially as it was difficult to leave a clear rock pool with half a dozen types of live shellfish, or a colorful pile of varieties of seaweed, or a haven of perfect shell specimens of many sizes and shapes, or a clump ||
|| Glorious cloud effects are seen in this picture of the salt lagoon at Yorketown. ||
|| of vivid green growth which looked more as if it should be a butter-cup bed in an old world garden than an isolated mass among a variety of salt air-loving succulents. How-ever, suffice it to say that the geo-logy hammer did its job, and the car was the heavier by many lumps of fossil-laden rock. The land is cultivated very close to the seashore in this part of Yorke Peninsula, and as we turned away from the lovely view of the sea, with the outline of Kangaroo Island in the distance, we looked down on the peaceful farming scene of the tractor winding its circular way around a huge field. A flock of seagulls followed it, alternately hovering in the blue sky banked with fleecy clouds, and swooping down for any treasured morsel re-vealed by the turning furrow. I hoped they were not picking up the barley seed just sown, but was as-sured that this was covered.
Incidentally, since I so often say that my book of place names fails to give me information which I seek, I must tell you that it does give the origin of the name of Troubridge Hill — and Troubridge Island with the lighthouse, which I mentioned to you last week. Flinders christened St. Vincent Gulf "in honor of the noble admiral who presided at the Board of Admiralty when I left Eng-land," and Troubridge was a sea-man who fought in the "Culloden" under this Earl St. Vincent. My book adds, "The Lightning, with 406 emigrants, went aground on the Troubridge Shoals in the late seven-ties. The captain insisted on going the one way and the first officer the other, but the captain prevailed and the boat piled up." There is no mention as to whether or not there was loss of life, but "Ever Perky Comrade" told us of another wreck there — the Clanranald, if I remember rightly — and in this case
many Lascars lost their lives and were buried locally. Another day fossils drew us through Yorketown and Warooka to Turton Point, but this time there was no difficulty in finding them, for the rock face near the jetty was a mass of fossil embedded rock and there was not even the need for the hammer to get specimens, as much of the face was quarried and the stone piled in dumps. I think if Flinders had seen Hardwicke Bay as we saw it when we approached Tur-ton Point, he might have wondered if he had called the wrong bay "Streaky." It was a picture, with its harmoniously blending dark and light greens and blues and greys in long streaks across its extent. I can imagine Turton Point a haven for fishermen. While we sat on the shore, near the jetty, we heard a peculiar noise as if water were being poured from a ship's outlet into the sea. We heard it again
after on interval and yet again, and then we had to investigate. It was a shoal of fish, and that was only one of many we saw there that day. On one occasion they were fish striped like zebras and some schoolboys on holiday, who seemed to be having a glorious time with their lines, told us they were striped bream. A little later, to our in-terest and amazement, along came a couple of porpoises gracefully wav-ing themselves in and out of the water within a few yards of the shore, but they proved to be to the sorrow of the boys because they evidently frightened away the fish. Then there was the geological in-terest of the many salt and gyp-sum lakes and lagoons, too, especially of Lake Fowler with its high cliffs of almost pure gypsum. The wea-ther was calm, and the reflections of trees and cottages and clouds in these stretches of inland water were almost clearer than the originals, thus making the most charming pic-tures for the photographer or artist. Unfortunately, we had neither in our party. By the way, do my readers from down that way realise that the Hundred of Melville alone possesses 96 lagoons? It does in the geological map to which we made frequent re-ference, anyway. The southern end of Yorke Penin-sula is certainly a happy hunting ground for holidaymakers who like to find nature unspoiled by outside influence and action. During my two short holidays there — last year at Corney Point and Stenhouse Bay and Inneston, and this year as I havetold you in this letter, I feel I have touched only the fringe of what a glorious coastline must have to offer. If you want a delightful motoring and camping holiday, you could not do better than wend your way to these southern climes, I can assure you. Best wishes to all, from Eleanor Barbour