Over the years I’ve taken hundreds of photos at Warroora Station and each time I try to capture it differently. This year I photographed circus performers at sunset - that was unexpected and definitely gave me the opportunity to photograph Warroora in a different way! Gascoyne in May is a coordinated circuit of festivals held annually across the region, and the performers were staying at Warroora Station’s Dudley House for a week of rehearsals before the Ningaloo Whale Shark Festival in Exmouth…

There’s no grey nomads, individual TV satellite dishes or nighties hanging on the communal washing line here…Gnaraloo is not for the faint-hearted…

It turns out you don’t need to be old to be an Old Bastard. We’d been told that John Wheelock has been the president of Carnarvon’s Old Bastards since its inception in 1982. A quick google revealed that the Australasian Order of the Old Bastards is an Australia-wide organisation, far less organised than the Rotary Club or the Lions, but just as effective where fund-raising is concerned…

Penelope’s story, sadly, is one told far too often in Australia. She is part of the Stolen Generations. Her very early years were spent at the Moore River Native Settlement before she was shifted to New Norcia Mission. As with many in similar circumstances, Penny’s life descended into one of alcohol abuse with her own six children also being taken away from their family. In between photographs, Penny shared tales of ill-treatment as a child, including sexual abuse, and alcohol-induced floggings and sleeping in public toilets as an adult. But Penny’s tale is also one of resilience…

I met up with Ray and Macca at the Yacht Club for the Sunday Session, and they decided I need to meet Irish too. “He looks like a leprechaun” they told me.

“Karl Brandenberg, Carnarvon’s Shire President, dobbed his mate Peter in as a local, colourful character I ought to photograph. Karl told me that Peter was the roo shooter for the district for years. “He’s a laugh a minute…and tough. Cheeky as they bloody come”…

A morning spent with the senior citizens in Carnarvon, WA

Before any photographs were taken I sat down to enjoy a home-grown mango smoothie and a chat at the kitchen table with Carnarvon grower Rick Skender and his mum, Zarka…

Now in his 80s, Mick has spent a huge part of his life living in the beach shack his father built back in 1959, just north of Carnarvon. In fact he still spends a large part of each year there - having arrived in January he has no plans of heading back south until August. When I visit Mick, his mate Faye is there for a few weeks too.

I first met Ray and Merle when I was photographing their granddaughter Jamee-Lee’s wedding about five years ago, and remember thinking that I’d love to do a portrait shoot . I discovered that they lived in Carnarvon and filed that thought away for another day. This week I caught up with them at their home…

It seems the whole of Carnarvon knows Dr Harry Sneddon. For many years he was the town’s vet treating creatures great and small. A quietly spoken, gentle man - a gentleman in its truest sense - it’s not hard to imagine him tenderly handling someone’s fur child at his practice in town, or horse whispering out on a cattle station. More recently he’s owned and operated the general store just out of the town centre to keep himself busy in his retirement.

While we were hanging out with Spags, we also met Bryan. Spags seems not to have a care in the world. His mate Bryan though has the weight of the world on his shoulders right now after losing everything in a fire a month ago. Bryan had been living in his caravan inside a big shed at Spags’ place. He was working out bush when he got a call from a mate to say the shed had burnt to the ground. “It was April Fool’s Day”, Bryan said “I thought they were pulling my leg.”

A few days ago we were photographing up at Carey Downs Station. As I was getting out of the car to open a gate, a small movement caught my eye. It took a moment to see what had moved as it was so well camouflaged. It moved like a lizard - close to the ground and fast scuttling, but had legs like a frog although not the webbed feet, and it had a long skinny tail. We’d never seen anything like it before! Alys from the Station sent the photo to Don Bradshaw at UWA…

We called into the CRC as soon as we reached The Junction, to see if they could suggest a great local character to perhaps photograph. “Spags! Go over the bridge, you can’t miss his house…it’s got a boat on the roof”…

For the last nine years Carey Downs Station has been home to the McKeough family. They are in the process of setting up so they can offer station stays and were keen to get their own stock library of images ready for their website and social media. Steve and I spent a long day following a map that showed tracks and landmarks such as soaks and bores, to the spots that had been marked on for us to photograph. Over the course of the day I tried to capture the remoteness, the harshness, the beauty, the colours, the scenery, the 4wd tracks, and the history...

After a fun few days with Frances and David at Wooleen Station we headed north to Carey Downs Station. The recent rains that had allowed swimming and canoeing on the Murchison River, also meant there were plenty of wash-outs and road closures. We fuelled up at Murchison Settlement, checked out the road report, asked Wink and the roadhouse for his local knowledge, and opted to take the most direct route via the back tracks…but kept our fingers crossed.

We set off on our meander through WA with no set time frame and no planned route. There was however a couple of places we knew we wanted to go which gave us a rough skeleton of a plan when we left home on the south coast of WA. Wooleen Station was one of those places. We’ve visited Wooleen a few times before, in fact we photographed Frances and David’s wedding a couple of years ago…

We first met the Foulkes-Taylors, owners of Yuin Station, when we photographed Frances and David’s wedding at Wooleen Station two years ago. Since then I’ve been following Emma on Instagram - @outbacklarder - in awe of the fresh produce she manages to grow in this dry and dusty land. On our way through to Murchison Settlement for the Anzac Day ceremony we spent a night at Yuin where three generations now call home…

The pub at Yalgoo is quite spectacular when seen for the first time hot pink and glowing in the late afternoon sun. However, it’s the paint job inside that’s the show stealer - the liberal use of a garish green the likes of which I’ve never seen before, certainly not in nature, but somehow, in this setting, it actually works. The walls are largely bare except for a couple of jokey 80s-style alcohol-related posters, a collection of old Yalgoo number plates, and an upside-down Exit sign.

Their father was a stockman and their mother also “worked the cattle from the back of a horse” - it was only natural for Patrick to follow in their footsteps. He spoke fondly of his memories, mustering by day and gathering around campfires in the middle of nowhere at night before falling asleep under the stars…