Lucky us for seeing so many pelicans, the largest waterbird, the morning before leaving the Walpole Rest Point Caravan Park, where Steven and I spent the night in a small cottage.
I wonder how many Danes make a point of visiting the small, seaside town of Denmark, Western Australia, located an hour east of Walpole! People like to linger and take advantage of coastal walks and great epicurean choices, but we had a long distance to travel that day.
Having needed a handicapped toilet for so long following multiple femur surgeries, I was more aware of them than most people. But I'd never come across a specifically ambulant handicapped toilet before.
Who wouldn't want to stop awhile at William Bay National Park, known for its "stunning beaches, sheltered coves, colorful wildflowers, and elusive wildlife?" Certainly not us. If we'd been more active, a hike along the evocatively named Bibbulmun Track or a bike ride on the Munda Biddi Trail would have sounded like a lark. As I've written before, the Noongar people have inhabited lands in Western Australia's southwest region since time immemorial. We learned that they continue to have a living, spiritual, and social relationship with the national park.
Protected by the Southern Ocean and framed by huge granite boulders, the park's Greens Pool was famous for its calm, turquoise water and pristine, white sandy beach. A large variety of fish and other sea creatures have created this natural aquarium.
Driving along the Madfish Bay Rd, we quickly reached the nearby Elephant Rocks, not realizing we could have viewed them from Greens Pool!
As we'd observed repeatedly in New Zealand's South Island, a major tree-planting program was also underway in the national park.
We'd hoped to hike along the Mokare Heritage Trail, twenty minutes further east, on the Southern Highway, aka National Route 1. However, we couldn't locate the trail, named for a Noongar guide who fostered relationships with European settlers and included significant Indigenous sites, so we plowed on to Albany, WA's oldest town.
As we entered Albany, we saw a full-scale replica of the Brig Amity, a historic 19th-century sailing vessel that brought settlers and convicts to King George Sound in 1826 to found Albany. Small world - it was built in 1816 in my father's hometown of Saint John, New Brunswick!
Albany, long known as Kinjarling to the Indigenous Menang Noongar people, was a port city that the British settled as a military outpost to thwart perceived French claims to the region. The city had recently officially reclaimed its original name.
To learn about Albany's fascinating history, we stopped at the Museum of the Great Southern, acclaimed as one of the best museums outside Perth.
Notice the ship in the background, visible behind the museum:
We were getting accustomed to seeing signs like the following as we traveled through Western Australia. I don't recall, though, seeing similar signs on my and our previous trips Down Under - was it a regional difference or a 'new' politically correct decision to acknowledge the country's forebears?
The 3.5-ton Mundrabilla iron meteorite in one of the museum buildings, found in 1988 on Western Australia's Nullarbor Plain, was part of a gigantic ancient meteorite shower from which more than 22 tons of fragments were recovered. The largest discovered to date in Australia weighed 12.4 tons! Most meteorites formed 550 million years ago at the same time as the Earth, but in a different region of the solar system. They are materials that remained after the planets formed and carry important clues about the birth of the solar system.
Hanging from the ceiling was an artifact from the Eclipse Island Lighthouse, which had been staffed by three keepers and their families. Their main task was to keep the light burning throughout the night, but they also collected and recorded meteorological
data and registered shipping information for Lloyd's of London Insurance. 
With no suitable harbor on the island, supplies had to be delivered using unconventional means. Baskets were used to load and unload stores and passengers into a small dinghy. The baskets were swung out from the hillside and lowered about 15 meters down a cliff to a waiting vessel. As you might imagine, this was a hazardous operation due to the ocean's swells, which caused the baskets to sway!
The large glass Fresnel lighthouse lens used curved glass rings to bend and shine a bright beam of light far across the ocean.
Another part of the museum included a 1920s one-teacher Schoolroom and Community Exchange Library that catered to the small farming community of Torbay, 25 km west of Albany. It was used until 1944, when students were transported by buses to schools in Albany.
In 1921, Albany was chosen over Perth, Bunbury, and Collie as the location for the W.A. Worsted & Woolen Mill. The mill had multiple contracts with major government agencies and private businesses, including hospitals and an airline. More than seven decades later, Jo Sharp developed her own collection of yarn colors at the Albany Woolen Mills for her internationally famous knitting business.
When the company struggled financially in 1996, the government agreed to allow an Asian textile firm, Nobel Investments, to develop a synthetic yarn spinning operation in Perth. A few years later, however, when Nobel relocated all equipment to Indonesia, the mill became derelict.
Though King George Sound was the first European settlement on the coast of Western Australia, Albany wasn't to become the capital in spite of confident predictions. Perth was ultimately chosen because of the initial governor's enthusiasm and his vision for the Swan River Colony.
New settlers in Albany included 30 Chinese laborers, recruited by Singaporean agents for authorities in WA in 1838, to work for local settlers. Over the next forty years, the mostly male immigrants worked in a variety of occupations - as kitchen staff, cooks, laborers, gardeners, and servants. Some succeeded and stayed to establish their own businesses, while others struggled to adjust and left. The federal government's 1901 Immigration Restriction Act limited Chinese entry to WA, resulting in an aging Chinese population in and around Albany.
What particularly appalled me in the museum was the impact of the spread of European settlement on the lives of the Minang Indigenous people. The 1885 Dog Act forbade Aboriginal people from keeping the animals they required for hunting food and generating income. More crippling legislation followed, including the Aborigines Act 1905, the Native Administration Act 1905-36, and the Native Welfare Act 1905-1934, which increasingly controlled Aboriginal lives until the 1970s. The state controlled where people lived, whom they could marry, and even their right to raise their own children and teach them about language and culture. Other regulations reinforced segregation between Aboriginal and non-Aboriginal people.
Albany, once a center for whale slaughtering, has become a hub for whale watching because these ocean giants travel from the food-rich southern ocean to warmer waters in the north. The city is a haven for humpback and southern right whales, which mate and calf off the south coast.
Scenes as we strolled along Albany's main street:
Albany War Memorial:
With the majority of Albany's first colonists coming from England, the picturesque garden setting of St. John's Church was typical of 19th-century English parish churches. Other English connections included the altar memorial window to King Edward VII and a stone in the chapel thought to have come from St. Paul's Cathedral in London after it was dislodged during a bombing in WW II.
I was amused to see an Op Shop in Albany, as I had shopped at several of the second-hand stores in Christchurch, New Zealand, when I needed more cold-weather clothes.
The historic Albany Town Hall:
On the grounds of the town hall was a statue honoring Mokare, the Noongar man who played a pivotal role in the peaceful coexistence between his people and the first European settlers. Reflect for a moment on the horrific conditions imposed on the Aboriginal people, and then contemplate that at the time of the British settlement in 1826, the land belonging to Mokare's family covered about 6,000 square kilometers!
It seemed odd to see Wild West Bowling on the outskirts of Albany, until I realized that the city was almost as far west as you could get in Australia!
On the almost deserted National Highway 1 that circles the country, there was a huge campaign to keep car lights on at all times. We saw signs saying, "Be Seen, Be Safe, Switch On." Again, as I mentioned previously, the road is about 14,500 kilometers long and is the longest national highway in the world. The signs were a critical reminder that we were really in the back of beyond, and that our next stop (and no, not the end of the day!) was Kukenarup Memorial, located 290 km further east!
With 200km to go, Steven said it was the most boring road we'd ever been on. A short while later, he exclaimed he was going to stop the car, get out, and scream, as the road kept going straight with no turns and only a few cars to break up the monotony.
We got downright giddy when we saw the sign for Wellstead a little further, especially since the outpost had gas, public toilets, an attractive mural, groceries, and food. Yay, we had hit the big time!
The public park was quite impressive, especially considering how minute the community was.
While I waited for my delicious beef pie to heat up, I took a few minutes to wander around the one-stop grocery, cafe, hardware store, post office, and gas station.
There was far more of a selection of food to choose from than I ever would have thought, given the size and remote location.
Evidently, I know nothing, nada, about sheep, as I didn't have a clue what this sign meant!
Admittedly, the selection of fresh veggies looked a little sparse.
The sole employee told me she thought Wellstead had about 50 people. Even so, it had its own school.
I was flabbergasted that the community even had its own Community Resource Center!
Hooray, more rollercoaster roads like the previous day's, unless you had a problem with carsickness! We were relieved not to be there during the rainy season and driving by ourselves, as the dips, or floodways as Australians called them, in the road would flood.
For the preceding 150 km, we had been following signs for Jerramungup - only 99 km more to go to Kukenmare!
Every 5km, a small sign indicated the remaining distance to Ravensthorpe, the next 'main' town. Likewise, the sign across the highway facing the opposite direction, J10, indicated the distance to Jerramungup.
The beautiful southern forests and wineries we had traveled through the day before were now long gone. In their place was more scrub bush, some farms, but no cattle.
It would be extremely scary to get caught in a floodway after seeing signs showing how deep the water can get.
There clearly had been recent devastating fires as we neared Ravensthorpe.
What a relief to finally reach the Kukenarup Memorial and Heritage Site, a site that commanded respect. The landmark, opened in May 2015, 15 km west of Ravensthorpe, honored the Noongar people killed in an 1880 frontier massacre following the retaliatory murder of settler John Dunn, who had raped an Aboriginal woman.
The memorial was a significant step in recognition of the long Aboriginal history of the area and the brutality with which First Nations people were treated by some early farmers. It overlooked a key spot in the Phillips River Valley, the old sheep station of Cocanarup, known as Kukenarup to the Noongar people. The valley and the freshwater springs at Cocanarup, the site of the first European farm in the region, have long been important to the Noongar people. After living here for thousands of years, they had developed a unique understanding of, and relationship with, this land, which provided everything they needed.
Major changes began with the arrival of early European explorers and settlers, who relied on Aboriginal people to find water and help with settlement. In the 1860s, when four Dunn brothers arrived as settlers, they, like many others, employed local Noongars. They established the sheep station in 1868, then built a house, blacksmith shop, large shearing shed, and two underground water tanks, all of stone. Given the region's isolation and their lack of local knowledge, the Dunns could not have accomplished what they wanted without Noongar assistance.
The memorial came after many years of discussion between the communities and was an important act of truth-telling. The reality of what happened in 1880, and the murders that continued for many years afterward, were recognized and put out in the open. As one Ravensthorpe resident said, ‘There will be no more whispering around here.’
The short Memorial Walk Trail wound its way through shrubland and across bare rocks. Along the trail were statements from families whose ancestors once lived and died near here. It was an opportunity to reflect on those who lived and perished in what seemed like a desolate spot.
I urge you to click on the picture to enlarge it, so you can read the moving message.
The Coleman family: "Whether John Dunn knew about this law or the penalty for breaking it is a matter of conjecture but ... John Dunn was working at the station when the Aboriginal execution squad of four arrived... The family of an Aboriginal so executed would have accepted the punishment, but John's brothers did not..."
Noongar elder Carol Petterson said it best, in my opinion:
The Nelly family: "I remember Dad whispering about the story of the massacre, almost like you were not allowed to talk about it. I remember hearing stories of people hiding in caves ... I heard of Noongar people running and trying to hide and again of being shot as they ran. I do not remember what it was all about but (I) imagined this is what happened to all the Noongar people."
The Woods family: "We were not allowed to talk about Ravensthorpe because it was too horrible what happened out there. Our old people were not allowed to talk about it."
New shoots were peeking out amid the disastrous fire. The fires and devastation seemed appropriate in the area where such tragedy had taken place.
The Coleman family: "Whether John Dunn knew about this law or the penalty for breaking it is a matter of conjecture but ... John Dunn was working at the station when the Aboriginal execution squad of four arrived... The family of an Aboriginal so executed would have accepted the punishment, but John's brothers did not..."
Noongar elder Carol Petterson said it best, in my opinion:
"In the ashes of the fires
Is the footsteps in the sand
In the flames of our tomorrow
Is the joining of our hands.
Black and White, one heart we share
For a land we love and care
Destined to beat, in unity and peace
Dancing shadows fly by my dreams.
Rest in peace our People of the past."
Our approach to the aforementioned Ravensthorpe, which Indigenous people avoided for many years after the massacre. But the memorial's open recognition of what happened to their ancestors, and the involvement of today’s Ravensthorpe community in the memorial's establishment, have started a process of recovery.
The town's silos were part of Australia's Public Silo Trail spanning 1,000 km of unique landscapes. It took one artist, Amok Island, 31 days to begin painting them in August 2016, using 450 liters of paint to cover 15,000 square meters of surface area!
For a sense of where we'd been the last few days: Perth, the state capital, was in the top left; we then drove to the southwest tip; Albany, where we'd started the long day's journey, was at dead center on the bottom; and the silos were in Ravensthorpe, the blue square on the right.
Because the landscape around Ravensthorpe comes alive every spring with thousands of species of wildflowers, Island focused on native Western Australian flora and fauna, with each silo side showing a different stage of the Banksia species. The animals in the artwork were the species' main pollinators.
After the gut-wrenching memorial, we needed to see something lighthearted, and the gigantic lollipop sure fit the bill!
The historic Palace Hotel was built in 1907.
Ravensthorpe's Genestreams Journey Sculpture was part of a larger trail network celebrating regional biodiversity and Indigenous heritage.
Another reason to smile!
The bas-relief sculpture celebrated the rural town's history.
Although it was almost sunset by 5pm, there were no signs advising drivers to slow down to avoid hitting wildlife. But because our car's insurance policy stipulated that we wouldn't be covered for that exact reason if we were outside city limits, we needed to skedaddle the remaining 45 minutes north to our night's stay in Lake King.
I know these aren't the conventional sunset shots, but I still think they were very special.
A slew of amusing signs caught our attention for the last hurrah en route to Lake King: "People have to wave to say hello." Another one in the same vein: "Wave safely." Both were because we were close to the famous Wave Rock!
Next post: The fun sights - no history or tragedy here - of Buckley's Breakaway, Wave Rock, and Mulka's Cave.
Posted on August 18th, 2026, from our home in Littleton, just hours before our daughter and her family arrive from Chicago to stay with us for a few precious days. To say we're excited is an understatement, since we don't get to see them nearly as often as we'd like! Please take care of yourself and your loved ones.
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