The beautiful blue waters of the Southern Ocean crash into the cliffs where the scrub and bush of the Nullarbor come to a very sudden end. With the road a diminishing grey ribbon disappearing of the edge off a shimmering horizon, one could easily conclude that the world was indeed flat, and that at some point we would drive off and into those cold waters.
As we left Ceduna, we went to church, this time finding a Pentecostal church (AOG) of the type Anne and John attend in Canberra. For a while it looked like we would double the congregation’s size, as the pastor and a small group of musicians were the only attenders. The numbers swelled to about 30, so the pastor, Stewart, had a decent crowd to hear his enthusiastic delivery. He and John knew a lot of people in common, so they chatted earnestly after the service while Anne, Jenny and I enjoyed the coffee and biscuits.
From Ceduna, it is obvious that agriculture begins to peter out, though there must be some pastoral activity. But the swaying green wheat fields are left behind with just saltbush and bluebush to the horizon.
Flawless Bay, commonly known as Fowlers Bay is at the end of a sometimes corrugated dirt road. The caravan park seems to be full of very much off-road types who have travelled some remote and rugged tracks to get here, and now keen for a place to rest, and have a shower. The Bay is a large, open bay with large white dunes and rock-strewn cliffs. The main attraction is the whale watching, with whales arriving for mating and birthing during the cooler months. A youngish couple operate a boat that goes out into the bay, and Anne and I took the opportunity for some whale watching. We were barely a few hundred metres from the jetty when the whales came into view – at first just dark shadows in the water, then, as they became more comfortable with the presence of a vessel, surfacing and seeming to take an interest in us. At one stage we seemed to be surrounded by Southern Right whales and they came to within a few metres. The calves entertained us with their newly-acquired skills of rolling, leaping, flapping and splashing. It was quite a show they put on, and we were enthralled. The boat was a quite sturdy craft and made for whale watching, but maybe designed for very short people as the railings were very low and with the boat bobbing vigorously in the water or surging into waves, it took a degree of skill to keep from toppling over the rail. There was plenty of other wildlife – sea lions, fur seals, penguins and cormorants.
Fowlers Bay has a little shop and happily for us they made pretty decent coffee and a more than tolerable serving of fish and chips that we had to assess.  We gave it an 8.
It is only a couple of hundred kilometres to our destination for the day, the Nullarbor Roadhouse. It is one of those days where the destination is more of a focus than the journey, as while the relentless rolling plains of saltbush and other scrubby desert vegetation no doubt support a diverse wildlife, they are not visible – at least from the road.  An unhappy sight along the highway were the wombats whose carcasses littered the highway for many kilometres. It was very sad to see these poor creatures now merely a bloody feast for the birds.

On the occasions we stopped by the roadside, we were lucky enough to see some signs of life, though the creatures had departed the area, just leaving a few signs of life and activity.
Along the way, though, we are keen to stop off at the Head of Bight, with its large whale population and dramatic views of the ocean and steep-cliffed shoreline. Whales were in abundance with several mothers and their calves. For a while the whales seemed to be all lining up facing the shore, looking up at the humans. Through the mist and froth at the base of the cliff I thought I saw a sign (in whaleish, the language of whales) saying “Human Watching – Please Keep a Safe Distance From The Humans”, and another “DANGER-Beware Of The Humans”. The young whales put on a spectacular show, especially a white calf who was rolling around, splashing, flapping and smashing his tail into the water. It was a stunning display, and well worth the small fee we had to for access to the cliffs.

We arrived at the Nullarbor Roadhouse to refuel, and find a place to camp inside a dusty compound. By late afternoon the compound fills with other travellers ready to find a good place to rest, with electricity, but no water. I discovered that my planning has not been as good as I hoped, and we will have barely enough water for the long journey across to Norseman in Western Australia. We had plenty of water for drinking, but not for washing etc.

Across the Nullarbor is a series of roadhouses where we get fuel and food. By the time we got to the WA border we had consumed all the food, as the quarantine police are very fussy about what is allowed across their border. So we are “forced” to eat roadhouse food where the servings are intended for hungry truckies with wide-load appetites.
One attractive feature along the way is the Nullarbor Links Golf Course – over 1800 kilometres and eighteen holes at the various roadhouses and towns along the way. We (John, Jenny and I) will attempt them all, though we will have to finish them off on the return journey. Our golfing skills are tested, and the hard dirt and gravel are not the most conducive to good golf. We have decided that par is self-assessed, so my 12, is equivalent to Jenny’s 9. In the end we all are winners.
From Eucla, there are a few viewing points to see the cliffs and dunes of the Great Australian Bight. The first one was the best, with extensive views of cliffs to the East and West as the Australian land mass ends abruptly at the foaming, misty confrontation at the foot of the cliffs.
It takes a few days to make the trip across. Sunday and Monday at Fowlers Bay, Tuesday at Nullarbor Roadhouse, Wednesday at Eucla, Thursday at Cocklebiddy and arriving at Norseman on Friday for a two-day rest up. The road is relentless, with long, long straights and only a gently undulating terrain to relieve the boredom of long days behind the wheel. The traffic is mostly caravans coming from the west with road trains and the odd (very) wide load. Our convoy floats along at an easy pace, but in the end we are so very glad to roll in to Norseman, smaller than I imagined, but a welcome oasis in the desert.