Young Travel Writers: Zeke Okely's Pilbara
In early July, I had the good fortune to spend three days making connections with some very gifted and passionate people, in an ancient place that was brand new to me. Connections with people, and connections with nature. It's hard to choose a most special moment, place or person to write about, as it was all so memorable. At the end of the three days, I realised it was the characters as much as the places that I would remember most fondly.
Two weeks earlier I met the other Young Travel Writer finalists, hosted by The West Australian and Canon at Kings Park and Botanic Garden. I was thrilled to receive the brilliant, neat Canon SX50 camera and was amazed at the thoughtfulness of both the Canon and Travel teams in getting the cameras fully charged and ready to go. That was how I felt, too: energised and ready to learn.
MORE FROM OUR YOUNG TRAVEL WRITERS: Patrick Morrison at Karijini
We were introduced to Canon representative Maureen Boril, who generously gave her time and expertise to this group of teenage photographers, and we met some of _The West _'s Travel team members: the articulate travel writer Gemma Nisbet, the professional, warm and highly organised travel assistant Jan Bromilow, and the ever- enthusiastic and educational travel editor Stephen Scourfield. We were later joined by senior curator of Kings Park, Grady Brand. Three-and-a-half decades of dedication and experience make Grady the go-to guy for all things related to the WA Botanic Garden, and there was excitement and passion in his voice as he gave the group a tour, fixing little things here and there as we strolled along, as if it were his own home garden. Grady described how the botanic garden is a living, breathing museum of WA's ecosystem, with each local plant species having an important reason for being there.
The mastermind of the day, Stephen Scourfield, led us through the basic uses of aperture, shutter speed and using the amazing zoom lens that is the Canon SX50 camera's most impressive feature. Stephen summarised how to write a killer travel story, using the metaphor of a soccer goal. We were taught that a story should kick off fast, travel a smooth arc, sustaining the reader's interest, before landing smoothly on the final target. Something to aspire to.
As finalists, we were all feeling pretty lucky to have had such a great workshop - and then two of us got even luckier. I was delighted to learn I would be joining Stephen, Jan and fellow young writer Patrick Morrison on the trip of a lifetime to Karijini.
With my mind firmly fixed on the Pilbara adventures ahead, it was hard to focus on end-of-term exams and finishing all my school work in the intervening fortnight. A minor mishap at hockey training 36 hours before we were due to fly to Paraburdoo threatened my capacity to take part but, with some luck, the dislocated shoulder was swiftly relocated to its rightful home. With the help of a sling and a few painkillers, I was (one) armed, pumped and raring to go.
A pre-dawn meeting at the airport with Stephen, Jan and Patrick was the official start of the journey north. Two hours later in Paraburdoo (meaning "white cockatoo" in the local Aboriginal language), at the no-frills but highly functional airport, we were warmly greeted by Glen Chidlow, chief executive of Australia's North West tourism, an affable man with a laconic sense of humour and a deep love for this area. Over the next three days, Glen proved himself to be a generous host, both with his time and his willingness to share his knowledge about this ancient land and its rusty, rolling hills.
Arriving at Karijini Eco Retreat, with luxury tents dotted among the spinifex, I realised with a thrill that one of those tents was to be my home for the next couple of nights. Double bed, own ensuite, no sharing . . . this is the way to do camping.
We got straight into some photography, playing with shutter speed, different apertures and the colours of the bright blue sky, the deep red earth and the blazing yellow sun. Beyond these obvious colours, our eyes were drawn to the various deeper, softer shades of this incredible landscape. We were visited by a flock of ground- running topknot pigeons, warbling and wobbling across the uneven ground. Patrick's intense concentration on focusing his camera on one of these weird little birds was lost as he was ambushed from behind by at least 20 of them: the observer became the observed.
The first day ended brilliantly with a wander through the spiky spinifex to Joffre Gorge, where we continued to photograph the rocks that surrounded us, topped with a hearty dinner and a comfortable sleep. I was feeling happy. What a way to spend the final week of the school term.
A chilly morning followed, and Stephen and Patrick headed off with West Oz Active to explore the gorges, rock climbing, abseiling and tubing in wetsuits through the various streams that flow through the depths of the immense gorges. These activities were impossible for me with my temporarily next-to-useless right arm, so Jan and I joined a Lestok tour of the gorges from the upper level. I think Jan was secretly relieved not to have to wriggle into a wetsuit and abseil down steep cliffs.
We were accompanied by four older travellers, long retired from the workforce and enjoying a leisurely lap of the map as they drove around Australia. One of these couples was from Queensland and the other from New South Wales. One of these particularly thin mature ladies shared her story of keeping warm in her caravan on the chilly Pilbara nights, with socks, ugg boots, thermals, layered with flannel pyjamas, topped by her gown, a beanie and a woolly jumper, sitting by an electric heater, covered with a doona. More layers than a lasagne. She made me laugh as she described herself being unable to move, but at least she was warm.
Guiding our group through the Karijini was Lisa McGrath, a bright, joyful personality who clearly has a profound connection with the national park. We were driven to Hancock Gorge, where each 25mm layer of rock and sediment was equal to 100,000 years, putting things into perspective for me as a 15-year-old. As we continued through the second-largest national park in WA, I couldn't help my jaw dropping at the sheer beauty and scale of the land. I had no prior experience of this kind of vastness, despite this being my home State.
We had a break for lunch and met the enthusiastic Ranger Dan, who decided to join us for the remainder of the tour, making it truly an experience of a lifetime.
At Circular Pool, Ranger Dan showed us how the rock appeared to be still in its metamorphic state, looking as though it was bending and flowing like a fluid river down the gorge. He gave the group an insight into the life of a park ranger and all the responsibilities of keeping the park running at its optimal level for people, plants and animals. With a slightly dispirited tone, Dan told us tales of how a few visitors disrespected the park and attempted to deface it with vandalism, scrawling their names on the ancient rocks. It was sad to think of this, and I am grateful there are a lot more people trying to care for it than seeking to destroy it. As Ranger Dan said, "it's not a job, it's a lifestyle and we just have to love it". He reminded me a little of Grady and his feelings for Kings Park.
Rejoining Stephen and Patrick after the tour, I was given another pearl of wisdom. Being a good photographer, Stephen said, was all about being open to new opportunities and looking first with your eyes, then through the camera lens. He showed me how to take note of interesting details in a new place, and to reflect on these when home again, as it is only then that they take on their special novelty, being different to our normal lives at home.
I learnt a lot from Stephen, not just about being a better writer and photographer, but from his relaxed way with people, being consistently curious about both people and places, putting everyone he met at ease and encouraging them to tell their own stories.
Travel is as much about the people we meet as about the places we see, and for me it is the people that make places memorable and intriguing. Are we shaped by our experiences of places and interactions with others, or is it the personalities themselves that create the experiences? Like most of life's conundrums, I think it is a little of both.
