THAT LOW FEELING ON THE EAST COAST.
That Low feeling on the East Coast
The view from the window at the head of our caravan bed is of a place named after nothing more exotic than a common grocery vegetable. It is called Potato Point, hardly the sort of name normally bestowed on a place with a long sandy beach and extensive ocean views.
At night its few street lights make up for the stars which have been absent in the days since we uncoupled our car and screwed down the van’s support struts into the soggy earth of a place called Tuross Head, a few kilometres north of the other headland.
In the daytime, even in the occasional sunny breaks, Potato Point is obscured by the ocean spray whipped up by the reason we are staying more than a week here and spending a good deal of it in the van, cooking, reading, listening to music and doing none of the kayaking that brought us to Tuross, with its two lakes and some of the best paddling in Australia.
That reason is known as an East Coast Low, a kind of mid latitude cyclone (a typhoon or hurricane in some people’s dialects). It is not as intense as a tropical cyclone, but it has already done a lot of damage around Sydney further north, and to the coast further up from it. We are getting the bottom end of the weather- persistent rain and cold wild winds.
We have been on the road three weeks and ironically the last warm day we had was the day we left Melbourne. A phone call from a friend there described mild sunny autumn. Boastfully this coast has been promoting itself as a place for Victorians to retire, according to the marketing speil, because of its warmer, more benign climate. Ha!
Unlike our experience further south at Wonboyn Lake the local oysters and other seafoods were still on the menu, which is just as well because on our first two days here we were joined by Jill’s brother and sister in law, Pete and Jeanette. Then Annick, a friend we had not seen for some time who was also touring the coast, came to join us.The current storm is the second of these low atmospheric pressure weather systems we have encountered and apparently there is another one ready to take its place when this one blows out.
This one has twice blown down the side awning we have tried to attach to the caravan, once at 2am. Maybe we will be able to put our kayaks in the water on Friday, the predicted calm day between storms.
Meanwhile if we want to amuse ourselves, it is safest to do it by car. We drove up to Bateman’s Bay, the nearest large town, in the blinding rain for some supermarket supplies. Then we drove to Moruya, the nearest medium town to try the $10 special in the local Thai Restaurant for lunch.
Finally the pull of Potato Point became irresistible. It was quiet, so quiet it made Tuross Head with its small shopping centre, club and a handfull of restaurants seem like Las Vegas. There is not even a shop at Potato Point. Indeed the human population seemed easily outnumbered by the kangaroos which had made their homes in the town finding the suburban lawns particularly palatable- offering a free marsupial mowing and garden trimming service.
If they ever want to set themselves as a business, I suggests they call themselves ‘Kanga Management’.