So if you can cast your mind back to my last blog that was not a rant on literature,or an apology, you may remember we were at OOOOOOOOOOdnadatta. This was on Friday at the end of our 4th week….
Awoke just outside Oooooodnadatta, convinced it was Saturday. It was to be an early start so we had even checked the night before, when the shops in town opened on a Saturday so we could buy provisions. Went to town and bought provisions. Friday is our ‘pay day’, so is eagerly awaited each week. O does have TWO food shops, which was a really big thing, so we had scoped out where the locals seemed to buying and went there. We only had a few things to buy, but with tomatoes at $1.50 each (75p), it was just as well we had got provisions in Marree. That has been one of the challenges, trying to work out where the cheapest food might be in the coming 7 days. Prices out here are huge! William Creek, a town of 2 (true), further down the Track was selling a loaf for $6 – that was the record. Anyway, we eventually got all we needed, I wrote a post card to parents, and we were off, at last, to the eagerly anticipated Dalhousie Springs.
Awoke just outside Oooooodnadatta, convinced it was Saturday. It was to be an early start so we had even checked the night before, when the shops in town opened on a Saturday so we could buy provisions. Went to town and bought provisions. Friday is our ‘pay day’, so is eagerly awaited each week. O does have TWO food shops, which was a really big thing, so we had scoped out where the locals seemed to buying and went there. We only had a few things to buy, but with tomatoes at $1.50 each (75p), it was just as well we had got provisions in Marree. That has been one of the challenges, trying to work out where the cheapest food might be in the coming 7 days. Prices out here are huge! William Creek, a town of 2 (true), further down the Track was selling a loaf for $6 – that was the record. Anyway, we eventually got all we needed, I wrote a post card to parents, and we were off, at last, to the eagerly anticipated Dalhousie Springs.
The Dalhousie Springs are part of the series of Mound Springs which bubble up from the artesian basin across this area of Australia. (see previous blog on Darren’s baths…). At Dalhousie the water bubbles up a perfect 37 degrees creating an enormous warm bath where one can swim. They are just West of the Simpson desert and only 183Kms (114 miles) from Oooooodie.
At first it was pretty easy driving on the Oodnadatta track, then we left it and took a smaller Northwards track. Still not too bad. First we went through ‘Fogarty’s Clay Pan’, an wide gray land with the track going straight across, either side there were marks where cars had thought they knew better and had clearly got bogged in the clayey ground. But we were cleverer than that. Next came the ‘Hamilton sand dunes’ which were red sand dunes running perpendicular to the road, so we were going up and down over them for miles, while masses of green foliage was (surprisingly) growing out of the dunes either side of the road. Quite beautiful. We met some people working on the road, which we thought was pretty tough on a Saturday - until After Hamilton Station (no, cattle, not train), we took another right turn off onto a smaller road.
It was approaching about 1 o’clock, and I wondered if Darren was getting hungry, so we started to look for a shady spot. We were on a sandy track with lots of trees either side, so we easily found a spot, and stopped under a tree. We were not quite in the shade so Darren tried to move forward a bit. No go. The car went n-o-w-h-e-r-e.
Darren got out. I got out. The back wheels of the car were rather deep in the sand. He looked. I looked.
I kept quiet. Very quiet. I didn’t suppose that suggestions or directions would be welcome at this point. Instead, I asked if we needed to uncouple the trailer. Darren hoped not and hoped that reducing the pressure in the tyres further would help.
After he had reduced the pressure in all the tyres, and used the shovel to dig away the sand from the back tyres of the car, he got back in the car and I stayed out.
Engine on, into gear… it looked hopeful for a moment until the back wheels started spinning. I was sure I had read somewhere that it was bad to let them spin as it made them go even deeper, so I shouted/screamed for Darren to stop.
The sound of the revs died away. He got out. We both looked.
We uncoupled the caravan, and used a dead bush nearby (think grocery box size tumbleweed), to put under the car wheels to give them grip when they moved forward.
Back in the car, engine on, into gear….very slowly the car moved off with the branches crunching and disappearing into the sand. The car was out!
We were both pretty pleased and allowed ourselves a little “ Yay!”, and then turned to look back at the stranded caravan.
Darren then said that he thought he might be able to reverse back at a different angle and recouple the caravan and pull it out. He started to reverse but it was clear that he was going into soft sand again and would get bogged so we cancelled that idea.
I then came up with the grand plan of trying to turn the caravan around, as the ground behind it was much firmer (eg: more terra firma), and the car probably wouldn’t get bogged. Darren amazingly thought this wasn’t a bad idea.
Move the caravan. Sounds good in theory eh?
Darren got one side of the trailer part of the caravan that links to the car. I got on the other side. The idea was to lift the jockey wheel and heave the caravan around. The jockey wheel is attached when the car is not attached to the caravan, to keep it standing straight.
So, according to the plan, we lifted and h-e-a-v-e-d.
And, LIFT and HE-EA-VV-E.
AND LIFT! and HEEeeAAaaVVve….
Two very puffed people and a small pile of moved sand.
Clearly my idea was not so brilliant after all.
Darren realised there was nothing for it but to bring out the big guns. (Why did he wait so long?).
One of the many ‘must have’ items, that had just sounded superfluous expensive parafanalia in the comfort of Fairlight, was dug out of the truck…
The ‘Snatch – Um – Strap’. Green, heavy duty, 10cm wide and 10 metres long. Describes itself as ‘Green and Mean’.
The box even has a picture of the Incredible Hulk on it (this amused me at the time, but I kept it to myself). Maybe that was Darren needed – to ‘get angry’.
“Don’t make me angry – you wouldn’t like me when I’m angry…”
Darren, of course, was still pretty ‘tra-la-la’ about things, as was I. I had no doubt he was going to get us out. Such blind faith in a wife – how sweet.
In order not to drive in the deeper sand, we needed about 15metres of strap (16 ½ yrds). He therefore tied the massive snatch strap to a thin piece of rope (I tried not to look doubtful), and this to a thinner strap from the roof of the car. He then attached one end to the car and the other to the trailer of the caravan.
He got in the car. I stood far out of the way of any potential flying missiles.
The car started, there was a pause, then the strap/rope/strap took the strain… Joy! The caravan started to move! Then – PING’somethinng’ gave, and the strap-rope-strap went flying into the air.
Amazingly, on inspection, it was not the small thin rope that could didn’t hold, but the smaller strap. Clearly only the green Snatch-Um-Srap was the monster for the job.
We were beginning to feel the heat by this stage – you will remember that the reason we had wanted to move the second time was because we had parked not quite in the shade. It was now past 2 o’clock, and this was hot work. We were also being incredibly polite to each other, I was even keeping very quiet and doing what I was told – things must’ve been bad!
We decidied that Darren was going to have to reverse again into the softer sand and reattach only the 10 metre green monster to the caravan and car. Despite it’s rigid appearance, Darren explained that the green strap has some ‘give’ in it, which helps take the strain. I once more put sticks in front of the wheels of the car and the trailer. Once again I retreated to a safe distance. Darren got back in the car and the green giant took the strain. The caravan moved. Then moved some more. The car was not going down into the sand and all looked good as they moved off….
Have you ever watched a water skier learning to ski?, or a water skier too heavy for the engine of the boat, trying to pull them out of the water? As the boat moves away, if there is not enough power to get the skier up, and if he continues to hold on, the skier slowly gets pulled under the water, like a submarine diving….
This was what came to mind as I watched the jockey wheel at the front of the caravan (which does not spin around easily), get pulled deeper and deeper into the sand which eventually stopped the caravan and the car.
Now things did not look good, and it was hot.
We were however heartened that there had been movement, and the ‘fix-it man’ (can he fix it? Yes he can!) was here. He wound the jockey wheel up to tip the caravan back slightly, so moving its centre of gravity further back. Then, just as a skier needs to lean back to get pulled out of the water, he put the car once more in gear and slowly pulled the caravan out of the sand to the road.
Success! I silently vowed not to suggest lunch when we are passing large sandy areas. We still hadn’t had lunch, but we were pretty jolly pleased with ourselves as we took off once more, after we had put the Incredible Hulk back in its box, both agreeing that we both never doubted for a moment that we would get out.
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