Six tents, and a long way between them.
On a working sheep property in the southern Flinders Ranges, each one pitched out of sight of the others.
Move the pointer to look round the tent. The arrow keys work too.
Each tent is pitched in its own fold of the hill, well away from the others.
Pitched out of sight of each other.
- The kitchen
Each tent is a cotton-canvas bell tent on its own timber deck, with a proper bed under wool blankets, a fire pit at the edge of the deck and a bathroom tent a few steps behind with a hot shower and a flushing toilet. They’re pitched in folds of the hill, so at night it’s mostly your own light you see.
The kitchen tent sits in the middle. Walk over for breakfast, or we’ll leave it in the chest in your tent the night before. Up to two in a tent.
Nothing between you and it.
Hold to open the shutter. Let go to develop.
There’s no bright star at the south pole of the sky, only an empty point that everything turns around. The faint star nearest it is in the constellation Octans, which is where we got the name.
The tent doors face south. We turn the camp lamps down at ten, and your fire pit is lit on the deck before dark.
Carry water, even in June.
The walks start at your door.
- The fence line about 2 km, a flat loop, before breakfast.
- The creek to the waterhole about 3 km return, flat, an hour and a bit.
- Up the gorge under the red gums about 7 km return, rocky underfoot, half a day.
- The long ridge to the trig about 11 km return, a steady climb, a full day with lunch in your pack.
That’s the map in every tent, drawn by hand, with a whistle on the hook by the door. Tell the kitchen which way you’re going and be back before dark. Wear boots that are already worn in.
The fire goes on at five.
- A pot of tea
- Quandongs
- Greens from the garden
- Flatbread from the fire
- Lamb off the coals
- our paddocks
- flour milled down the valley
- the kitchen garden
- the creek flat
- the kettle on the grate
We light the kitchen fire at five, and the lamb goes on when the coals go white, so dinner is usually about seven, at the long table. The bread is pressed out and slapped onto the steel plate over the firebox as you sit down. If you’d rather eat by your own fire, we’ll carry it over to your deck. The lamb is our own, slaughtered halal. Bread, eggs and vegetables come from growers around the ranges. Tell us what you don’t eat when you ask about dates, and the kitchen will cook around it. On a total fire ban day the pits stay cold and we cook everything inside the kitchen tent.
How cold it gets.
Autumn and spring: warm days, cool nights, a jumper by the fire.
Winter: bright, still days, and a clear July night can go to zero. The frost sits on the deck boards until about nine.
- Boots already worn in
- A warm layer for after the fire
- A beanie
- A torch you can hold in your teeth
- Something to read
What’s already in the tent: wool blankets and a spare in the chest, a hot-water bottle we fill at the kitchen, towels, a torch, and a gas heater in the bathroom tent.
Getting here
About three hours north of Adelaide, the last half hour on a gravel track across the property — take it slow, and shut the gates behind you — then the ute takes your bags, you walk the last bit to your tent, and we’ll be at the gate.
Any car is fine in the dry. After heavy rain we’ll meet you on the sealed road and bring you in. Arrive after two; leave by ten. Mobile reception comes and goes, so we’ll send the directions before you set off.
The sheep were here first.
Octans is on a working sheep property, and the work goes on while you’re here: lambing in late autumn, crutching in spring, moving mobs and fixing fences all year. If you’d like to come along on the morning jobs, jump in the ute at seven.
We’re open from March to the end of November and close over summer for the heat and the fire danger. Two nights at least; most people stay three.
Octans is on Aboriginal Country in the southern Flinders Ranges. We pay our respects to its Traditional Owners, past and present.
Tell us when, and how many of you.