Destination Unknown, Part 6: Monkey Mia, Ningaloo Reef & A Deep Sense Of Dread

by | Dec 17, 2025 | Uncategorized

I just opened my journal and found I’d made some notes in the days after I left Geraldton to head north.

It read:

  • Australia is big
  • Don’t drive at night
  • Didn’t measure distance between Denham and Exmouth
  • The colours!
  • Put swag up in kitchen – what’s a locator pin?

I based myself in Denham for a couple of days so I could go to Monkey Mia which is a short drive from there.

Monkey Mia is primarily known for bottlenose dolphins coming into shallow water and interacting with humans.

It’s all done under very strict supervision but what stood out was the rush of the people – mobile phones aloft – to the water’s edge just before feeding started with the Parks and Wildlife Service officers.

I soon walked away and returned a little later when the crowds had gone. The sea was beautiful, like turquoise glass but really cold – not North Sea cold – but there was a sharp intake of breath. I didn’t last all that long in there and went for a walk, passing some dolphins to my left who swam to a paddleboarder.

What had stood out to me most though was the drive to Denham along Shark Bay Road. It took my breath away. The orange earth of the long road perfectly dissecting the green of the trees and vegetation with a cobalt blue sky.

And it went on for miles and miles with seemingly no-one on that road except me, some kangaroos, goats and emus.

I did a test run with the swag in the kitchen and realised that all I could do was sleep in it. In fact, I’d have to do a commando roll to get into it! I didn’t think that one through, did I?

Upside Down Rivers, Ningaloo Reef & A Feeling Of Foreboding

I’d wanted to go to Ningaloo reef for years. I’ve done lots of scuba diving and what I’d seen and read about it made it a must visit.

I set off for Exmouth, the gateway to Ningaloo, via Shell Beach which was very salty and dry, a lunar landscape. North of Carnarvon I drove over the enormous Gascoyne River – except there was no water because it’s an “upside-down river” that flows underground for most of the year.

Driving further north, things suddenly began to feel more and more remote.

There was scrub as far as the eye can see and I began to question where the horizon was. Who lives on that land? Or does anyone live there? If so, what do they do?

There were miles of purple and white wildflowers. Then it was barren, almost apocalyptic with blackened trees hunched over and claw-like.

It brought to mind stories by Roald Dahl, like a spell had been cast on someone who’d been turned into a scorched tree to live out their days in the searing heat with no respite or comfort from the blazing sun.

The vastness took on its own quality and I began to feel very, very small both in terms of my time on earth being fleeting. I felt like the tiniest speck but I quite liked that, it was humbling and honest.

Then I came upon the termite mounds on both sides of the road and I felt really uneasy.

I felt as if I was being watched and I got a real sense that I was driving through someone else’s land but that I’d be okay as long as I showed respect.

I was tense and the solitude, which had been peaceful up to that point, became a heavy silence. I really wanted to get through this stage of the journey and once the termite mounds fell away, I relaxed.

I stopped for some water and shade where I was joined by a crow. Still the silence was heavy – almost loud – and the heat shimmered around me.

I headed off again and as soon as the termite mounds reappeared, I got a knot in my stomach once more.

Eventually I got to Exmouth but I was really tired and drained. Not only by what I’d experienced but also because it had been such a long drive, around 450 miles.

I couldn’t relax that first night and put it down to being tired from the drive. If I’d been hoping that a night’s sleep would relax me and I could start afresh the following morning, I was sorely disappointed.

I felt as though all my emotional nerve endings were on fire. I was twitchy and very frustrated.

I went for a nice breakfast and a walk during which I happened upon an outdoor shop where I decided to buy a tent so I had the choice of a swag or a tent. I handed over 100 Australian dollars for what would become a home from home although I didn’t know that at the time.

The following day I went diving. I loved my second dive – turtles, reef sharks, sea snakes among marine magic – and my highlight were the whales breaching and tail slapping.

I drove up to the lighthouse and looked out as heavy rain fell but I was done. There were no thoughts of extending my stay in Exmouth, I wanted out.

And so I did. I set out early the next morning, my stomach in knots once more and that bad feeling enveloping me. It lasted for a while until I took a left onto National Route 1 and I was greeted by a sign saying “Welcome to the Outback Coast.’

I breathed a huge sigh of relief and felt absolutely fine once more. I don’t know what had happened: maybe I’d tuned into something, maybe something really bad had happened on the land I was driving through.

Maybe I shall go back one day given everyone I know who has been loves it. All I know is that I felt as though I was intruding upon something and my presence wasn’t particularly welcome.

But now I’d left that behind and I pointed my car towards Nanutarra and the Pilbara.