Another Westport Day With Our Very Own Guide
Our very own guide ex-Navy friend Jet took us in a different direction today. With the sun shining yet again, against the predictions of the weather department, we headed south from Westport. Again, his knowledge and extreme commitment to the area we travelled through amazed me. As we drove, his varied stories included historical details as well as a running commentary on life as a Coastie. We saw the best fishing spots particularly for crayfish. Sharing his own family history, we also visited places where he and his extended family have picnicked over the years. His choice of some overgrown tracks had us wondering where he was taking us. But he always had a story to share when we reached a destination. He’s a true West Coaster and very proud of this fact.
A Writer’s Retreat To Die For
Since we met again Jet had been waxing lyrical about a property near the Fox River outlet which he felt a romance writer just had to see. He told me I would be enthralled and so I was. Hidden from the road behind mature flax and native bush, Jet easily found the spot. We hesitantly had a look around at the small bach which was perched precariously on a rocky outcrop. It looked amazing and I could easily imagine spending writing time there. Windows appeared to draw the natural beauty inside. Feet below, the calm sea still pounded against the rocks. I had to wonder what it would be like to stay there during a storm. It must be spectacular. A major Lotto win would have me considering finding the owner to make an offer.
Jet told stories of both the Fox and Nile rivers and how they had contributed to the economy over the years. Of course he also switched into four wheel drive and took us along their estuaries.
From south of Westport we then headed north to Denniston, the old coal mining community. All I can say is I am pleased I wasn’t driving. Although the road was excellent it is steep and very windy. Once upon a time this was the largest coal mining operation in the country. It was hard to believe Jet’s stories of how populated the area on top of that ridge had been. There is little left now. The Denniston Incline is unbelievable. It isn’t hard to imagine trucks of coal heading down that steep incline, but to hear people, including children, often also travelled in the coal trucks sent shivers through me.