We arrived in Albany in mid-afternoon and immediately set about trying to find accommodation.
It’s a big place. We were there at a time (we thought) that was not a high-demand season, but the place appeared to be booked out. The process of driving around trying to find somewhere actually gave us a general look-see around the city. Beautiful headlands, windswept scenery, the Southern Ocean at our feet with the only land beyond, Antarctica.
By the time we’d done one loop and stopped at a dozen places, we looked up local accommodation on the mobile phone. We found a likely-looking place and headed there. The room itself had no views, but it was a very short walk to the main street overlooking the harbour. Good enough for us.
To get to the main street we had to go through the pub. We had a quick explore on foot, found a few interesting shops before our stomach clocks went off.
On a Thursday night in Albany, you can get a feed without booking ahead. But it can be tricky. We’d had a tiring drive so opted for an early dinner.
Next morning the breeze from the Southern Ocean was brisk and chill. We wanted to check out the area (our usual MO) and plan our next two days in Albany.
The wind picked up as we drove higher above the town and drove towards the old whaling station. However, we were distracted by a sign to a wind farm. We’ve seen windmills in the distance, especially around Canberra. Through Europe we could also see wind farms and solar farms by the roadside (or by the railway line) but only catching glimpses in passing. In Europe, and even around Canberra, the ground beneath the giant wind turbines appeared almost manicured. Perhaps the cattle and sheep grazing nearby were responsible for that. Here, however, the windmills were set up in natural bushland, coastal native heath.
Albany Wind Farm has twelve turbines, each measuring 100 metres from base in the ground to tip of the blade reach. I knew I’d only be able to walk to the nearest ones, but the chance to get up close and personal to any wind turbine was not to be passed on.
Of course it was windy. And cold. My medieval hood once again was pressed into service to keep my ears from wind-triggered earache.
We’ve heard so much consternation about the disruptive sound of windmills and were prepared for the noise. But it was very peaceful there on the headland. It’s also a bird sanctuary of sorts, with a number of hides for photographers to enjoy. If the birds can accept the windmills, so can we. These twelve wind turbines alone supply around 75% of the energy for Albany. With the six more turbines from the wind farm next door, Albany is well supplied for energy.
We followed the sound to find the base of the nearest wind turbine. There was the crunch of our feet on the gravel path and bird song, and a wide range of native flowers as distraction. A seat nearby gave us a great view of the line of wind turbines marching to the tip of the headland. Turning back to watch the wind turbine, we watched the hypnotic, deceptively-slow revolutions of the turbine blades. The sound dopplered up and down which was the origin of the ‘thrum, thrum” we could hear. And for those concerned about the “damaging effects of the sound”, there’s an app for that. Using our mobile phones, we measured the dB level, the turbines generated 55 dB. Quiet conversation came in at 75 dB.
A notice board nearby gave us some useful statistics — the length of the blades, the height of the towers etc. I needed to rest my feet and it was warm in the sun, out of the worst of the wind. Another like-minded visitor nearby was musing about how fast the tip of the blades were moving, so we calculated it from the available data, and our observation of the revolution frequency. Taking all the available data, the speed of the tip of the fan blades, this particular day, was 270 kph.
We felt smug from the mental effort as we headed back to the car to continue our random exploration of the Albany area.
So that’s one more thing off my bucket list. I’ve been accused of being a tree-hugger (thank you, to me that’s not an insult) but I don’t recommend trying to hug a wind turbine. Your arms won’t reach.
Those things are a lot bigger than you’d think, but they do an amazing job.
Helen Armstrong - writing on the move 