Charms of Yorke Peninsula's Toes
Fairyland of Scenery ------o------ SOUTH AUSTRALIA'S LOST PROVINCE
(By Rev. A. C. Stevens, M.A.)
South Australia can boast of many beauty spots, of increasing value as the years go by, but how many people are aware of the wonderful facilities for sport and pleasure and scenery posssesed by the little-known wilderness, south of Corny Point, on the southern end of Yorke Peninsula? It is an enormous and practically untouched fairyland of scenic interest, ; crowded with interesting spots of bewildering variety — the State's unopened lucky stocking.
It is because the locality is so remote and ungetatable that so little has been heard of it. Yet already the locality has become something of a fascinating holiday resort to many of the inhabitants of Yorke Peninsula possessing motors, and when the rest of South Australia hears of it, there will be a general exodus in that direction. Last Christmas week over a hundred motor cars were down at Corny Point in search of pleasure, and all through the summer fishing season there are 10 and a dozen cars a day at the headquarters of the many interesting excursions to be made. Several of the crayfish grounds have been cleaned out already by eager piscatorial experts, while, schnapper and sweep and whiting are caught with ease in enviable quantities. "Fish every day" is the order of diet. It is possible to travel to Corny Point in a day by taking steamer to Edithburg, and motoring across good roads, or there are other facilities by motor mail for reaching this little known spot. There are several barns, cottages, huts, etc., in the locality, which make good camping centres. In the grounds of the genial Mr. Barclay, who is postmaster at Corny Point, there is a deserted school house, which has been the temporary residence of many leading doctors, lawyers, business men, and pastoralists from all over the State. It is backed by a formidable array of empty bottles, which visitors are ingenuously assured were largely gathered from the debris of camping parties on the beach! A good car and a good guide are needed for there are rough roads to cross and romantic spots to visit. Hundreds who visit the locality and are enchanted by the lovely environs miss much of the most fascinating spots for lack of the guidance.
BARQUE ETHEL ran ashore here on January 4, 1904, and the occurrence was first reported to Troubridge Lightkeeper by the Ferret, which found a watery grave in the same spot 16 years later. . .
BARQUE ETHEL ran ashore here on January 4, 1904, and the occurrence was first reported to Troubridge Lightkeeper by the Ferret, which found a watery grave in the same spot 16 years later. . .
STEAMER FERRET. Wrecked Sunday, November 16, 1920.
STEAMER FERRET. Wrecked Sunday, November 16, 1920.
TOES OF THE PENINSULA this little map shows the country and coastline referred to in the article.
TOES OF THE PENINSULA this little map shows the country and coastline referred to in the article.
The variety and profusion of interest are bewildering. Peninsula Diamonds Corny Point itself is much like the rest of Yorke Peninsula, only more so. The farms are strewn with "Peninsula diamonds," rough limestones, which have to be laboriously handpicked for agricultural operations. Mallee roots and limestone ridges, seem on first sight to be the chief products. Yet on this shallow soil splendid crops of barley are grown, and in some instances the only ploughing is a kind of
rake over with a combination cultivator. Good crops of wheat are grown with proper cultivation. There are no hot winds from the north, and there is a good rainfall. There are stretches of titree, sheaoak, and the universal mallee, which is alive with kangaroos, emus, mallee hens, and bronzewing pigeons. Rough work needs to be done to bring under the plough large tracts of country at present only running cattle and sheep. Coastal disease is a trouble, and even the rabbits and wallabies have been practically killed out by the combined ravages of foxes and some mysterious disease. The inpearance of the country is in parts like some of the southern English wolds. Windbeaten and weatherworn, indisputable evidence of rough winds and the ozone of the sea. About a couple of miles beyond the post office and settlement is a point of hill which spits itself out in granite tongues into the sea, whereon is the Corny Point lighthouse, an object of interest and a landmark for many miles. South of the point lies Daly Head, a big massive headland, jutting out in bold and deserted isolation. The beaches are covered with myriads of curious shells, strewn wreckage, and gulls in a world fit for Robinson Crusoe. 'Dew Drop' A couple of miles south of the light there is a coastal road on the high ridges to the little known Turners' Beach, or "Dew Drop," of the greatest interest to geologists. Here sometimes and on the the south coast in the season, come sailing in the rare and precious paper Nautilus shells, so much prized by the conchologist. It is well-known that the spray at Port Elliot is about the most wonderful on the southern coast, but here it is on a larger and more wonderful scale. Here is a bay curiously resembling Green Bay. Port Elliot, and here is another weird formation, possessed alike by Victor Harbor and Port Elliot, "Natures' Eye,'" composed of a contorted stone in an oval pool sharpened at one end. The great rock which is the centre of attraction is called 'Whale Rock,' and is for all the world like a great sleeping, lazy whale. There is a spouting rock, where at the right tide the fountains of the deep are
CORNY POINT LIGHTHOUSE. Corny Point is 44 miles from Yorketown. It is connected by telephone.
CORNY POINT LIGHTHOUSE. Corny Point Is 44 miles from Yorketown. It is connected by telephone.
hurled with great force into the air in white spume and rainbow glory. Nearby is an anthropological curiosity, a native cave in a cliff of friable stone. There are the ashes of the old camp fires and fish bones, while lying close by have been picked up native flints and round stones, grooved for the fingers for use in chipping and shaping their rude weapons and implements. For the trip southward down the coast an early start should be made, with the car in good running order, for a 70-mile trip through largely desert country is necessary, in order to come upon some of the places of greatest interest. The roads are for the most part bush tracks. There is little sand and very little danger of being bogged, the universal limestone subsoil ensuring a good soakaway for all surplus moisture.About About 13 miles south we came upon the ruins of Carrabie Station, a melancholy sight. Round it is a good deal of cleared country, but the homestead is deserted, surrounded only by the wreckage of farm implements, buggy, etc. Lack of prosperity or capital was the story writ large for the passer-by. Camper's Suicide North of this is another melancholy hut, where a camper is said to have accidentally set fire to an area of 13 miles by eight miles of country, and after vainly endeavoring to beat out the blaze ended his life by cutting his throat in a fit of remorse. From the desolate region we come suddenly upon Marion Bay, fronting the Southern Ocean. This place is the shipping port for gypsum, being the outlet for the works of Mr. Hasell. There is a neat little jetty, and a diminutive railway with its trucks of gypsum and its baby locomotives. The dimensions of the industry are very considerable. Last year it is estimated only 8,000 tons were shipped owing to labor difficulties, but this season 13,000 tons went out over the little pierhead. The market is as wide as the Commonwealth itself, and there are unlimited possibilities in the industry. There is good schnapper fishing and emu hunting. The samples of gypsum we saw were of very fine quality, a white crystalline looking substance, which is blasted out of a lake inland, and is well worth visiting. After some years of working, only a small corner of a lake covering five square miles has been touched. More Gypsum Running along the coast for a few miles the gem of the whole series of noble scenes is encountered — Stenhouse Bay. As a holiday resort for an artist or naturelover this spot is to be commended as one of the most picturesque. Here is the shipping port of the gypsum industry. It is stated that the Cape Spencer Company spent £20,000 in the first year alone, and upwards of £200,000 all told in developing their big enterprise. Prior to their com
ing, for the most part, the roads north and along the coast were unsued bush tracks, but with the advent of the companies now operating the traffic by car has resulted in clear tracks. This port is the outlet of the Permacite Company, which has extensive holdings of gypsum in valley lakes along the waste virgin mallee scrub. The immediate difficulty for shipping at Stenhouse Bay seems to have been the shipment of products over what is almost a sheer cliff: which at first was cut at an acute angle, but which has been replaced by an expensive tunnelled cutting at an easier gradient. In the deep waters of Stenhouse Bay, which is hedged about by high and striking headlands, the company has spent a lot of money in a well constructed jetty which is piled high with oil, petrol, gypsum, and plaster of Paris. On the cliff above are the offices and dwellings of the port staff. Turning from these evidences of the magnitude of the operations of the company, which employs up to 150 men, we climb the headland on the right looking back upon the deep waters, green and blue and purple against the black frowning cliffs. Stately Althorpes Away to the east stretches the glorious and impressive coastline, headland upon headland, dropping steeply away hundreds of feet to the tumbling seething seas around their bases, and stretching right away to Cape Spencer, the gateway of the Gulf. Away to the left rise up in the unforgettable blue of the southern skies, the elephantine forms of the Althorpes out to sea. The largest of these islands is crowned at the summit by the tall and stately Althorpes Lighthouse. This is the country proper of wrecks, where amid sharp drifting currents many vessels have drifted to destruction. Not far away lies the 'Willyama," a collier, lying close inshore, her only use being something to be visited, now and then, by the crew of a passing ketch, who come aboard and catch some excellent schnapper in the watery recesses of her hold. Further down the coast is an in teresting bay where within a few feet of each other lie the remains of the Ferret and the Ethel. Swerving inland for a mile or two we come to the Cape Spencer Plaster works, which are now lit up by electricity, and we have an opportunity to view the com
Coastline near Point Turton.
Coastline near Point Turton.
modious factory and its well-built houses and appointments. The lake itself is as if it were dropped down from the skies in the midst of the most useless country imaginable, but there is abundant evidence in its blasted out edges of its profit and usefulness. Old Wrecks In a bay of pure white sand lies the remainder of the Ethel, an iron barque, which twenty years ago was hauled back by tugs from coming ashore here. She was anchored well out and the tugs put into an adjoining bay for shelter. The second time she broke her moorings and made straight for the bay between the iron cliffs. This time she climbed on the back of the basest roller ever known, came sailing unharmed high and dry right over the reef and right up on the shore, where no wave has harmed her since. She has had a fire in her hold, as well as having been previously stripped, so that only the gridiron rusted construction within and the remnants of one mast remain in the boat, over which we climbed like eager and romantic explorers. Not so many feet away, out in the surf, the romantic Ferrat, for so many years a coastal trading boat, and at one time in the actual possession of pirates and mutineers, went ashore. The pounding waves have left nothing of that most interesting ship but the boilers, which lie there, a monument of wreckage and ruin. Our next interesting spot is to the easternmost side of the coast, Pondalowie Bay, a great harbor for small boats and yachting excursions. There is practically a complete circle of low rolling sandhills. The opening into the circle is marked at one point by a spit stretching out in the direction of a reef, relieved here and there by great islands, which enclose the bay on its seaward side. What with islands, reef, and spit it is not easy, especially from the level of the sea itself, to mark the deep passage into the bay. Inside the bay is a snug warm paradise of blue water. What pen can describe the other places of interest? There are plenty more of them, Donax Beach, named for its shells; Brown's Beach, which throws even the natives into rhapsodies of Homeric delight all the innumerable inlets, bays, aud enchanting beaches.