We have now been resident in Cue for two full days. As we pulled into the excellent caravan park and set up on our most ideal site opposite the loos, we were full of plans as to how we were going to spend our time in this tiny and very historic town. As we had visited Far Cue previously on multiple occasions, our itinerary was fairly succinct.
We wanted to visit Nallan Lake to view the wildlife, check that Michael's sculpture was still intact at Nallan Station and then partake in a spot of fossicking on the edges of town. Nothing too complicated, one would think.
Oh, the great plans of mice and men. With the possibility of adding to our rusty metal collection, we decided that we had to rationalise the back of the Ute. This task of sorting took Michael most of our first day. Whilst he tackled and improved Lily's capacity to hold more objects, I was on my own mission from God and rearranged the entirety of Will's interior to become more user friendly for us. We were both mightily impressed by our efforts and, I am sad to say, wallowed in gleeful smugness that led to our inevitable downfall. More of that shortly.
Will is our second caravan. We started our Grey Nomad journey with the much bigger and grander Digger, whom we travelled in for three or four trips. But there were always difficulties with Digger. He was tricky to manoeuvre in high winds or wet conditions. He caused our fuel economy to plummet. The internal loo was useful but the shower was always unsatisfactory, with low delivery of water accompanied by a guttural high screaming sound effect. The washing machine was luxurious and convenient but emptied the water tanks with two loads. We always had to check for low branches and other obstacles that might wipe out a side storage door (done) and the caravan's awning (also done). And Digger removed us from the closeness of the outback settings we adored.
On our maiden voyage in Digger, a major incident forced Michael to channel his inner MacGyver with no notice whatsoever and few tools. A hole in the connection between our water tanks resulted in the loss of all our water. Whilst in Gascoyne Junction, Michael was able to plug the hole armed with only ingenuity, a tube of silicone and his fingers, all while on his back below Digger's undercarriage. Needless to say, Michael triumphed in this MacGyver moment.
For those readers unfamiliar with MacGyver, he was a fictional character from the 1980's TV series of the same name, a scientist and a government secret agent, tasked with missions that always required re-fashioning the contents of his backpack in order to thwart some nasty character.. He carried a Swiss Army knife (of course), paper clips, chewing gum, an ID card (was that his own, does anybody remember?), a watch, torch and matches. Also armed with his trusty toolbox, MacGyver saved the day in every episode, always by building some sort of outlandish device to outfox the latest villain. Naturally, he drove a Jeep and wore an extremely fetching mullet.
On one occasion involving Digger, not even summoning MacGyver could fix a tricky problem. Whilst on a corrugated gravel road west of Tom Price, the hot water unit sheared off its mountings, rendering this entity completely inoperative. Whilst resident in Onslow, Michael spent a couple of days sitting adjacent to the ablutions, using scant instructions and uttering a variety of colourful expressions as he attempted to remove the hot water unit from Digger, photograph the damage and liaise with the manufacturer in Melbourne (!) about a possible solution. Alas, the fault lay squarely with the installers (who had gone bust). That was the end of that. The unit was stuffed back in its place, secured as well as possible and became another White Elephant within Digger's frame.
Anyway, Digger was duly sold to a lovely couple, who swiftly fixed all his issues and even sent us a photo after he had been uber cleaned. We were then without any sort of travelling residence for about six months. What to do. Going back to swags and the gazebo was not an option. We were too old and crotchety for that setup. Whilst we were debating this dilemma, good friends Val and Shane offered to sell us their used A-Van. Falling in love, we promptly took him home. I named him Will (after William Shakespeare and because he is also willing and able) and gradually packed his limited cupboards, working our how we were going to place our items in a much more confined area. The added bonus was that Will was also a trifle tatty and battered, rather like us, and allowed us to stop worrying about any potential scrapes and dings.
After a few trial runs to Perth to camp on the kids' driveway, we triumphantly set off on our Slow Boat to China adventure twelve days ago. Yesterday morning, just as we were preparing to drive to Nallan, Michael noticed water spreading across Will's floor. Initially, I assumed that the puddle had been caused by my enthusiastic cleaning of the tiny sink. Except, the water kept coming and began to invade other compartments and under our bed.
Disaster! We began moving containers and bags, the contents of one external compartment and dismantling the bed, so Michael could explore the cause of the substantial leak. This was not a straightforward or easy process. However, we eventually were able to open the hatch under our mattress and discover the cause of the leak. Once again, a pesky water heater was the culprit.
This situation demanded Deep Thought. We wanted to -
- determine the leak's exact location(s)
- isolate the gas line so we could continue to use the stove, and
- plug the various points that were leaking and still access cold water via the sink.
This involved much contemplation, so I left Michael to head for the servo and purchase us a late and calorie loaded lunch to fuel our little grey cells. We ate and reviewed the options. Michael was convinced he may be able to plug the leaks if he could obtain some dowel.
Using a large strip of cardboard to cushion his back under Will, he successfully isolated the gas line without blowing himself up. Thus, we still had a functional stove. After painstakingly removing the outside cover of the hot water unit's entry, Michael concluded that there was no way to remove it and fix the leaks outside. Michael, along with his inner MacGyver, surveyed the wet and rather dirty compartment, crouched in a most uncomfortable position. Once he had identified the three leaking hoses, he once more lamented the absence of some dowel to seal their ends.
Somehow, MacGyver entered my head through some weird sort of osmosis. I was gifted the most scathingly brilliant idea. Thinking about how to create three sections of dowel, I remembered my three wooden spoons in the utensils cupboard. I considered this light bulb moment an indication that I might have become MacGyver's apprentice! And one of the three spoons had a handle that was the perfect diameter to act as the required plugs. In the late afternoon light, using his reliable grinder, Michael cut off and shaped the three dowel pieces. A smear of KY jelly (!) and the dowels were successfully inserted into the hoses ends. Problem solved!
In a final flourish, I mopped up all the remaining water and removed the detritus of old screws, electrical wire, dirt and insects' bodies. When I was finished, I declared the enterprise a huge success. Photographing the before and after was the icing on the cake.
The repacking took until well after dark. We enjoyed vino around the fire pit with Peter, a long term camper and prospector in Cue and a former radiologist. Returning to Will, I completed the last of the organisation and sank gratefully into bed.
As and soon as I finish this post, we are off to Nallan!
Digger in Cue - front view...
Back view...
With missile?
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