Jetty Tour Day 13 - Port Rickaby to Edithburgh

We moved away from the rather windy Port Rickaby on the western side of the peninsular, down to
the heel of the boot-like Yorke, at Edithburgh.

Harry Butler

First stop for fuel and a coffee at Minlaton, home of the intrepid Harry Butler - not the scratch around in the outback, find snakes under rocks, sell out to the big corporations Harry Butler but rather Henry John "Harry" Butler, intrepid pilot of the first world war. Like most of the Australians who flew for the Royal Air Force (RAF) over the trenches in France and Belgium, Butler was a bit on the devil may care but not enough to stay there. He got himself back to England where he became a pilot trainer. When the war ended, Butler bought his training aircraft, the Red Devil, off the RAF, had it shipped home and returned to South Australia. He flew the Red Devil from Adelaide to Minlaton, the long way, by following the roads up either side of the Gulf of St Vincent, carrying mail from town to town as he went. He arrived to a heroes welcome and soon purchased a two seater biplane with which he did mail deliveries, gave air shows in the town he had delivered mail and flew passengers on five minute joy flight. For each of these things, he was well paid. His barnstorming tours made him famous in South Australia.

In 1922, flying a passenger on a joy flight, the plane crashed and he was badly injured. Newspaper reports didn't mention the passenger! He underwent many operations but was badly disfigured and then two years later, died in the early hours of the morning from a brain aneurysm.

We had a cup of tea at the specialty chocolate shop, where the treats were too expensive for us seniors and I once again got given #14 (back story too long to explain but I almost invariably get given the #14 when ever I am given a number).

On then to Yorketown, originally known as Weaning Flat. For some reason that name didn't stick. Checked out the supermarket for the special food I need which we live in fear of not getting. Thumbs up. Only one of the two pubs operating. The Melville is closed and the one across the road looked like the biggest dive in Australia.

Click on the camera for today's photos

Final leg to Edithburgh. Haven't met Edith yet but the caravan is excellent. We managed to talk ourselves into a foreshore site, yet again. This time, we are on a short cliff above the sea but our site is flat so we are hopeful of not sampling the journey down the cliff. A new gulf to look at and a slowing of the pace with four nights here, in part so I can finish re-writes and editing a play needed for a reading. Hopefully some bike riding for the first time on part of the Walk the Yorke route along the cliff tops and a visit to the big wind farm just out of town.

Next week we are off to Innes NP, shaping as the highlight of the trip.