Week 22 (21st - 26th August)

High hopes that Kununurra would solve our problems with the fridge were soon dashed. With temperatures now commonly reaching 34°C by midday, phone calls to Getaway’s supplier in Perth, the fridge manufacturers in Queensland and both the local service agents were all to no avail. The bulk of Lea’s carefully selected specials and mark downs in our deep freeze were handed over to the caravan park office in the hopes that backpackers could have a cook up that night. Mind you, the situation did not stop us having a few major cook-ups ourselves!

Being blessed with an abundance of water Kununurra proved to be a lovely little town full of green lawns, parks, mountains and lake views. Zebra Rock Gallery was one of the first places we visited. There a wide variety of ornaments are created from a stratified siltstone (estimated to be 600 million years old) that is found nowhere else in the world. Some of the material, containing petrified algae, is said to be twice that age! A very striking material with iron rich red bands and spots contrasting with a white background and out in the backyard a large number of old timers cutting, shaping and polishing the material in a dusty old workshop. Great stuff! What is more the itinerant workforce all live in caravans parked in the backyard! George was most envious. Down on the jetty Lea found a huge shoal of catfish desperate for hand-outs! After fetching some bread for them, the feeding frenzy that resulted was an extraordinary sight.

We chanced on a particularly pertinent TV program shown on Four Corners about the people pressures that are becoming apparent on the coast of WA. It focused on the very places that we have been camping at over the past few months (14 Mile Beach, Ningaloo, Lefroy Bay, Red Bluff, Gnarloo, Shark Bay …) and the influence that grey nomads are having on the environment. As mentioned in previous weeks, we too have been amazed at the numbers of nomads living semi-permanently on the coast. George couldn’t help but express concern about all the attendant impacts related to access, waste disposal, sanitation, dune conservation, the launching of boats and other issues. While all these problems appear to be effectively managed by station owners and nomads alike, once the station leases expire in the year 2015 …. the ultimate fate of many a grey nomad’s current lifestyle, that of spending months at a time living on the coast free of regulations and overheads, probably hangs in the balance.

Faced with having no fridge until we get to Darwin (800km away) we found ourselves reappraising our travel plans! We decided to backtrack towards Wyndham and the eastern end of the Gibb River road, leaving Getaway safely stored in Kimberleyland Park for the bargain price of $2 per day.
Arriving to the desiccated surrounds of Wyndham from the well watered Kununurra was a bit of a shock to the system. As in the case of Derby’s King Sound – Wyndham is dominated by the muddy waters of the Cambridge Gulf, itself renowned for the massive 8m tides and being home to some of the largest saltwater crocodiles in the world. A 20m long crocodile met us at the entrance to the town, an impressive beast made from ferrous cement!

We chose to have our lunch up on the Five Rivers Lookout, perched high above Wyndham. There we were able to look out over the extensive tidal flats that surround the Gulf.

View from the Five Rivers Lookout above Wyndham, of the tidal flats adjacent to the Cambridge Gulf

In the heat haze we were able to just make out the course of the five major rivers – the Ord, King, Pentecost, Forrest and Durack - that enter the Gulf across the plains.
A reminder of the harsh conditions found in this remote town came from the graves in the Pioneer Cemetery of 12 men that died as a result of heat while constructing the Wyndham meat works in 1916/17. Having been avid readers of the book Crocodile Attack (by Hugh Edwards) we at once recalled that the meat works (now closed) used to discharge blood and offal into the Cambridge Gulf. The greatest concentration of saltwater crocodiles to be seen in Australia at the time could be found in the “red waters” of a drain at the mouth of the discharge pipe. We even visited the boat ramp where the inebriated truck driver, Paul Flanagan, claiming to the world that “the Wyndham crocodiles were all bullshit” was promptly killed by a croc in November 1980. A scary place is the muddy waters of the Cambridge Gulf and its population of silent, invisible “salties”!
As we left Wyndham we spotted the Afghan Cemetery – historically, the camel men of Australia and we couldn’t resist going to see it. These few simple graves had no names or dates and a notice informed us that the large size of a grave was due to the lead camel being buried with his master!

Without Getaway in tow we were able to do our sightseeing much faster and by early afternoon we had seen all there was to see in Wyndham. Taking the King River gravel road that by-passes a cattle station “Diggers Rest” where we’d heard we could camp. Only to find that, although set amidst boabs, it looked so desolate that we could not bear the thought of sitting out the rest of the afternoon in such a place. After asking about the condition of the roads that continue through to the Gibb River Road, we elected to take what is known as the Karunji Track.
This track, described in pamphlets as a “secluded stock route”, is a 50km 4WD track that skirts the Cockburn Range and follows the valley of the Pentecost River. Thanks to the varied terrain through which we passed the Karunji track made for a very interesting and challenging drive! The first section led us onto the flats that lie alongside the west arm of the Cambridge Gulf. Racing at 70kph over the plains with mirages shimmering in the distance and passing doleful cattle in what resembled a desert, we were reminded of Burt Munro, the Legend of Speed, on his Indian motorcycle!

Skiv on the tidal flats of Cambridge Gulf's west arm

In due course our mad dash was reduced to a crawl while traversing rocky foothills and eroded gullies. Later we faced a section lying feet deep in bull-dust - a clay surface reduced to a talcum-like powder by tyres is the most shocking stuff to negotiate. A number of diversions around the really bad spots helped a lot. At one point on the track we encountered a barbed wire fence with no less than 27 dead fruit bats hanging from the wires over a distance of 1km!

The mystery of the dead fruit bats (27) hanging on a 1 km fence

What accounted for this we don’t know! Perhaps the bats had been killed and hung there by some freaky fellow? Had the bats killed themselves by colliding with the fence? It was not an electrified fence. The mystery of the “flying fox fence” is intriguing!

Our track eventually came out at the point where the Gibb River Road crosses the Pentecost River. With nightfall fast approaching we were delighted to find a secluded spot above the river to stay in. Here we spent a very peaceful night in the company of some curious cows and, when darkness set in, fruit bats came to feed on the blossoms in the trees above us.

Our next port of call, 25km distant, was the much spoken about and advertised El Questro Wilderness Park (ELQ). We had expected ELQ to be up-market but we were “gob-smacked” (as the Aussies say) at the price of staying there! Knowing that we had just had a free night camping at the Pentecost River it was a little disconcerting to fork out $70 to camp a little further upstream! In time we realised that it wasn’t quite so prohibitive. $30 covered the permit required for all ELQ attractions (one of which was using the Karunji Track – which we didn’t realise at the time) The other $30 our night’s camping fee. We had the option of using the general site with ablutions or one of their many secluded sites established alongside the river, each out of sight and earshot of the other. Guess what we chose!

Just as one should be discerning over the choice of castles or cathedrals to visit in England much the same applies to the many gorges of the Kimberley. The ELQ property had its own list of gorges. After visiting three we became aware of how easy it is to overdose particularly after the magic of Windjana and Bungle Bungles. It is unfair to judge their qualities when seeing so many one after each other. In the heat of the day we happily retired to the shade of our campsite, with the cool sound of the river rapids and the chirruping of Rainbow Lorikeets and honey-eaters as they gorged themselves in the trees flowering overhead. At evening time our thoughts turned to young brother-in-law Bernd celebrating five decades. What time the partee start?

On leaving this portion of ELQ early the next day, we popped in to see Zebedee Springs described as a “private day spa open from 6a.m – 12 noon”. After a short walk through dense palm forest we discovered a crystal clear stream of warm water flowing from the base of a towering cliff into a series of small pools. Quite the most idyllic spot and too good to resist! Lea returned for swimming costumes while George took photos. Meanwhile, back in the car park, life was now abuzz with families making their way up to this piece of paradise. In no time at all, the place became invaded by people – excited kids and goggles. We wallowed in “our pool” for ten minutes but the people pressure soon got the better of George. Lea, most reluctantly had to leave her element!

Aquarian in her element at Zebedee Springs, El Questro

We may have blunted our pleasure in gorges. However, Emma Gorge on the Gibb River Road is one of those much publicised places that we did not want to overlook. With many loose stones on the pathway one had to be very careful not to slip. As the gorge narrowed the going got steadily rougher and steeper and required a great deal of boulder hopping. The trail eventually ended at a large pool fed by a high waterfall. A quick swim soon cooled George down but, compared to Zebedee Springs, the water was icy cold. We sat there until midday then slowly made our way back to the car park to find the temperature in the Skiv was 40°C. No ways did we want to sit around in such hot conditions, it was cooler to drive with our windows down and head back to Getaway in Kununurra.

The stifling heat didn’t let up. By the time we drew into Kimberleyland Park our hopes of sleeping in the storage area were thwarted. We decided that if we had to hitch up we’d keep going towards Lake Argyle, 70km away. This way we had the wind blowing through the cab keeping us cool for the rest of the afternoon. A beautiful drive through hills and valleys and, once again, we were reminded of Africa, the Makuti – Kariba road in particular!
Lake Argyle, the largest body of freshwater in Australia (980sq km) is the source of water for the Ord Irrigation Scheme and produces a small amount of hydro-electricity. It lies within a spectacular series of steep-sided basins, containing many islands and bays. It seemed to us that overly strict management of the catchment has resulted in under-utilisation of the resource. In a location with such potential it seemed a grave mistake to site the only motel and caravan resort without a view of the lake. Even a boating fraternity seemed to be missing. However, we enjoyed two nights resting up there and preparing our blog.

Week 21 (13th - 20th August)

Australia has some historic roads criss-crossing its vast open spaces that generate wonderful stories of the past and incredible hype amongst its travellers. The mere names hold a certain magic – Birdsville Track, Oodnadatta Track; Gun-barrel Highway, Tanami Track and of course, the Gibb River Road that has been haunting us over the last couple of weeks as we sound out the folk trekking south or north over this road.
Our day had arrived… We still couldn’t quite make up our minds. Instead, we decided to leave Derby letting our journey unfold as we progressed from the western end of Gibb River Road- as the first 60 kms is on tar. Warnings ringing in our ears of taking it slowly had us enter the gravel at a gentle speed of 20kph, steadily wending our way along an empty road that somewhat surprised us - as word had been it was a mighty busy road. When we stopped for a late lunch beside a boab tree, the first of many vehicles to come, hurtled by leaving us to taste red dust and curse the macho drivers.

Our proposed informal campsite alongside the Lennard River had more than enough people to our minds, forcing us on to Windjana Gorge. Weary from the excitement of an exhilarating weekend, enveloped in dust; shaken, rattled and rolled by corrugations despite taking it so slowly to ensure we arrived in one piece we took notice of every tree and blade of grass- so similar to Zimbabwe that we found ourselves watching out for a lion! Photogenic boabs, with their grotesquely beautiful shapes added to our conversations. Mercy! Was it good to crawl into the Windjana Gorge campsite at sundown with the last of the sun’s rays illuminating the Napier Range. From the moment we arrived we felt we were in the presence of something special. Not even the spectacle of opening Getaway’s door diminished the feeling! Our basket of bits and bobs usually stowed safe enough was strewn all over the floor. As we collected up we became aware of a sticky glutinous feel to everything and the floor itself looked pretty glazed! Sunday night supper is always eggs – that night it had to be scrambled from what we were able to rescue… some yolks had drizzled down the inner fridge door and we know where the whites had ended up!

We now knew we were not prepared to continue with the Gibb River Road. Instead we’d take our chances on the awful Windjana Road and cut across to the Great Northern Highway via Tunnel Creek.

We spent a very satisfying day in Windjana Gorge. Reputed to be Australia’s premier spot for freshwater crocodiles, it proved to be just that. There were hundreds of the sleepy reptiles basking on the sandbanks so unconcerned about people that we were able to walk within a metre of them without the flicker of an eyelid. One would not do that with a “saltie”! We took the most attractive 7km return trail that lies between the towering Devonian reef cliffs and the river bed. The strident rattle of a bowerbird attracted our attention and there, next the path, was its bower with a collection of white objects decorating it. The bird even allowed George to get a shot of him inside the entrance. Squabbling fruit bats drew us to the spot where they were hanging like black bags in a paper-bark tree; and the baobabs growing at the base of the cliffs were another treat. However, with the day growing steadily hotter we were only too glad to get back to a cold shower under the midday sun.
Late that afternoon, with the light starting to soften, we walked back into the gorge to photograph the classic reflections of cliffs in the pools.

Reflections in Windjana Gorge

We found the crocs on the hunt. Their technique is to float motionless in the water or submerged in the shallows while awaiting an unsuspecting fish or cherubin (prawn) to pass by. We heard what sounded like gunshots and were amazed to discover it had been the jaws of crocs snapping at fish.

In Derby the tale of Jandamarra, better known as Pigeon, the Aboriginal freedom fighter in the 1890s had captured our interest. Now here we were in his “country” and the very place where he had waged battle with cattlemen. His story was to take us past the ruins of the Lillimulura Police Station to Tunnel Creek where his life ended.

37km of slow pounding and jarring brought us to Tunnel Creek the next day. The limestone ridge looked like many others we had seen and yet, the jumble of boulders that we had to squeeze between and clamber over concealed a tunnel of astonishing darkness and size. Faced with the chilly creek water to wade through in the dark was not Lea’s idea of fun, particularly as pythons are known to frequent the interior in their pursuit of bats. Fortunately, at this time of the season and with the light of our torches we were able to pick our way over enough rocky pavements and sandbanks before stream crossings became necessary. By then, we were enraptured and there was no thought of turning back! In this darkness, our hearts raced at the exaggerated sounds and echoes of footsteps through sand and water and excited voices far away. What fear an ambush situation must have been created here for police and Jandamarra alike? A roof collapse at one point brought relief from the darkness adding another ethereal quality to our most worthwhile adventure.

Inside Tunnel Creek

Much as we had enjoyed this place we were anxious to have the remaining dirt road behind us. Another 70 kays stretched ahead of us! Add - a growing concern for our fridge that appeared to be losing its chill. We were not too sure whether corrugations were knocking the thermostat control. Off we crawled for the Great Northern Highway hoping to find a suitable bush camp en route. This section of the road was not as bad as we had expected. Nevertheless, we still felt ourselves cringing at the impact of each rock or corrugation. By the time we reached the blessed bitumen the long hours of being bumped around had made us feel as if we had been inside a cement mixer! An ice-cream check convinced us that we urgently needed a powered site at Fitzroy Crossing. On we went …..

In case one imagines that our life is all pleasure, just how easily we are periodically grounded can be illustrated here.
After carefully positioning Getaway on a cemented site George prepared to unhitch, Lea began to connect up the extension cord for power. Just as she was about to plug into the caravan George drove off taking Getaway with him! He expected the hitch to disengage but it hadn’t. Nor was he aware of this until Lea shrieked. Carefully he reversed back to the original position. Only this time the caravan disengaged and kept rolling, rolling and rolling – breaking and skinning the power cord and fortunately pulling out at the power point while on its journey into the next site! Appalled at this happening Lea was trying to stop the caravan without becoming a fatality herself. As she reached the handbrake the jockey wheel ploughed into the turf and brought the run away caravan to a halt. Cool, calm George climbs out of Skiv only to be met by a shaken wife, spitting mad! Another hour was spent with a high lift jack trying to reconnect the caravan and reposition it. It has since been agreed that the use of wheel chocks and handbrake are mandatory!

As Geikie Gorge lies just outside Fitzroy Crossing we spent the next morning recovering from “our episode” by taking a boat trip up the Fitzroy River with a CALM ranger. Our sense of humour returned on spotting a rock formation resembling President Richard Nixon on the west wall of Geikie Gorge.

President Nixon - Geikie Gorge

24 hours of 240v power had made little difference to our fridge. A study of the manuals and their trouble shooting check-lists revealed no easy fix. The next morning we quickly established that there was no refrigeration expert in town. The nearest technician 600km away in Kununarra! As we faced the prospect of losing our month’s supply of frozen food we had no option but to make the mad dash. What a day to celebrate 38 years of marriage!
Instead of railing at our bad luck we coped …. During the journey we decided we would phone Kununarra from Halls Creek and check whether our problem could be attended to on a Friday. If not, we would cut our losses and continue with our own timeless schedule. As it transpired the Kununarra technician was unavailable for the next 10 days. Left to our own resources we bought a bag of ice and headed for the bush. That evening we chose a rest area beside the upper reaches of the Ord River to eat our anniversary dinner of prawns before they went rotten.

We arose at dawn to make our way to a rest area close to the turn off to the Purnululu National Park. Here, we abandoned Getaway as the nature of the access road prohibits caravans. Easily said and done? NO. We were gripped by anxiety. No one in their right minds would dream of doing this elsewhere in the world … would they Gloria? We simply had to hope for the best.

So often roads are monotonously straight due to the Australian landscape - not this one! From the beginning it was a wonderfully interesting switchback ride – full of twists and turns, ups and downs, rocking from side to side through water hazard after water hazard. Entering this World Heritage Site we felt surprisingly little sense of wonder as we made our way towards the first of the tourist destinations, Cathedral Gorge. Only on rounding the mountain range was the full impact of the Bungle Bungles revealed. Hundreds of orange and black striated sandstone domes or beehives stretched out in tiers before us (Lea thought they looked like a massive choir of talking heads). The walk into the gorge with its huge amphitheatre at the end overlooking a quiet pool had a magical atmosphere. Its acoustic properties led us to believe that it would be a marvellous venue for a concert – especially with didgeridoos and click sticks. The “Domes Walk” provided us with close up views of the “beehives”. Geologists maintain that the range is the remains of a large sedimentary rock mass laid down about 360 million years ago and has since been uplifted and eroded into one of the world’s most spectacular sandstone formations. The banding is apparently the result of differences in the clay content – the dark bands being clay rich and protected by a covering by cyano-bacteria; the orange bands being clay poor. The question that puzzles George is what sort of climate regime was prevalent at the time for a series of clay rich / clay poor deposits to have been laid down in such symmetry.

Spinifex termite mounds are generally built on the rolling foothills of the range. We spotted termite mounds perched on the tops of domes and were fascinated at this strange positioning which seemed to grossly disadvantage them when they required food, let alone the mud for construction. By lunch time it was so hot we spent a quiet few hours reading / dozing in the shade of a tree in the Walardi campsite. In the late afternoon we drove to Walanginjdji Lookout, climbed to the top of a hill for the evening ceremony of watching the last rays of the sun behind us highlight the warm colours of the mountain range in front of us. From there, it was only a short way to the Kurrajong campsite where we spent a hot night in Skiv.

The heat was enough to have us up early the next morning and without much ado we were off to visit the Mini Palms Gorge and Echidna Chasm at this end of the range. Access to the Mini Palms Gorge involved driving along the thickly pebbled bed of a creek, followed by a 2.5km walk into this gorge which had masses of fan palms growing not only on the floor but also clinging to crevices on the sides. Within the gorge massive chunks of conglomerate had to be negotiated before opening into a bowl-like area with the sun beating down. It was a relief to escape into the narrower confines of the gorge higher up where we found staircases and viewing platforms had been built to restrict access within this culturally significant site for Aborigines.

Our last stop - Echidna Chasm proved to be the most enchanting of all. George had seen the aerial photography and knew what to expect. Lea took the word chasm at face value and expected to look down one! Reality was walking up the floor of a chasm little more than 1m wide in most places with walls towering anything around 150m sheer on either side.

Echidna Chasm, Purnululu National Park

Each time we thought we had come to the end it would duck off in another direction. As midday approached shafts of sunlight began illuminating sections of the chasm, creating a soft mystical orange light within. Such was the unusual beauty of it all we were made all the more aware of how much people miss by flying over the Bungle Bungles for the “big picture” and go away thinking they have seen it all.

Returning to Getaway we were pleased to find our home safe and sound. The ice had done its work keeping the fridge cool and our meat in the deep freeze in different stages of defrosting. Ice cream now hooligan juice! We transferred the meat into the mini-cooler in Skiv and pulled back onto the main road, hoping to find a cooler and more aesthetically pleasing roadside camp. It wasn’t to be. Instead we had to make do in a lay-by as driver fatigue set in.

As another week ends with us settled in Kununarra, on the edge of Lily Creek Lagoon - itself part of Lake Kununarra. It has been a most awesome week in its literal sense, not the commonly used slang word! And although we may have gone on and on and once again, felt the limitation of photos, we can only hope that we have managed to portray something of each special place.

STOP PRESS EDITION

*** STOP PRESS EDITION ***

Just to ensure that we do not get set in our ways and remain very adaptable in our travel plans … Saxon and Paul are recalling us to Perth in February '07 for the birth of their first baby!
We are thrilled to bits at the prospect of an Australian grandchild.

Congratulations Sacky and Paul.

First trimester scan of our little Gee-bean
taken on 17th August : our 38th Wedding Anniversary.

Weekend Special Edition (12 / 13 August) - The Horizontal Falls experience

So many exciting events came together in a 24 hour space that to do justice we feel a special edition is called for. As we can only use four photos in a session – it’s VERY hard to choose!

From the wharf, the tiny seaplane floating in midst of the rapidly filling Sound looked for the world like a mosquito in muddied surrounds. Once us four passengers were squeezed aboard in our first ever seaplane ride, the take off was slow and noisy, each wave shaking the fuselage hard. Slowly climbing to 2 500ft we had the most fascinating view of the extensive mudflats, the mangroves, channels and sand-bars below, which in time becoming broken and rugged ranges. This intricate tapestry of landforms is something that one can only see and appreciate from the air. Forty five minutes later we spiralled our way down into the tranquil waters of Talbot Bay, somewhat disconcerted to see that the two gorges, supposedly the Horizontal Falls, showed no sign of any outpouring of water!

Approaching Talbot Bay and the horizontal falls

A small boat from Discovery One sped out to collect us. This handsome ship, formerly used by Australian model Elle’s sister for whale watching, seemed a floating palace to us. The four of us thought we had the place to ourselves… until the next plane landed bringing 8 folk from Broome. Once the hubbub of settling in was over our Captain explained that a 10.5 metre tide was running and we would only go to the Falls once the tide turned. Now it became clear why we hadn’t seen any trace of the Horizontal Falls on flying in.

Called Horizontal Falls purely for marketing purposes, two enclosed basins are each separated by a narrow gap, or gorge, just behind Talbot Bay. With the incoming tide seawater passes through the first gorge (22m wide) and then through the next (8.5m wide).

Approaching the first of the horizontal falls, with the second one in the background

As the tide recedes, the huge volume of water stored in the basins is sucked out at a rate which is said to approach 200 000 litres per second. This potential for harnessing incredible tidal power goes to waste by the very nature of its isolation. When the tidal cycle is at its lowest the vertical drop is in the order of 4m (14 feet). At another stage the Falls become a giant rapid, until finally, with the high tide they disappear all together.

At the turning of the tide a sleek, deep-V inflatable (cost – a mere $180 000) with two 225 HP Yamaha outboard engines on the back arrived to take us out. Twelve excited seniors donned life jackets, straddled the specially designed biker-type seats and prepared to face whatever rigours the Horizontal Falls had in store!

To enable us to safely photograph and view the first of the falls our pilot executed some tight turns in the outskirts of the current. Then with cameras stored away the pilot built up the momentum required to shoot through the gap. Amidst the velocity generated by the current, whirlpools and eddies surrounding us, the boat slewed, seemingly out of control, in a hair-raising manner - through to the other side. Just as we began recovering from this “rush” we felt the boat slip scarily backwards into the out-flowing current! Thankfully all was under the control of the powerful engines and the pilot used this moment to calmly provide us with statistics on the amount of water pressure within that constriction!
Due to the safety issues (on average there are four accidents a year) the second, far narrower gorge is not regularly ascended. The turbulence in its vicinity is scary enough just to observe! Our pilot took us through both sets of falls twice and on several occasions did some 360 degree donuts in the midst of the current to the gasps and cheers of the group. At times George thought he was mad and Lea, a fun fair roller coaster addict, loved every second!

Such shared exhilaration instantly bonded the twelve and was the prelude to a wonderful night aboard Discovery One. Sun-downers on the top deck – we may well have been at Kariba. The sun setting over the water and the steeply sided mountains, marked by landslides, was reminiscent of the Matusadona! Another unforgettable sight was the sharks. Two metre long Tawny Nurse Sharks were encircling the dinghies and jetty behind the boat, enjoying what George can only think was the steady stream of warm water emerging from the engine room? By nightfall there were seven sharks roaming around and the sight of them was one of the real joys of having dinner on the back deck. With all of us travelling around in caravans exploring Australia we found we had lots in common and exchanged stories and information well into the night.

We awoke feeling as if we had been there a week, not a night! Over breakfast the first flight of day trippers came in. They were immediately dispatched to the falls. Shortly after, the Broome seaplane landed and our eight friends departed leaving the four of us to enjoy a couple more hours on top deck watching the seaplanes coming and going rather like a bus station. In agreement with Syd and Alida we realised that paying a bit more for a night had actually made for an incredibly relaxed all round experience compared to the groups now coming in for a quick four hour turn-around outing. The new group from our boat were about to leave on their adventure trip when Alida had the presence of mind to dash down and ask if we could take up the four empty seats. Hey! Hey! We could ….

A bonus action replay followed. This was quite a different experience due to the state of the tide. The first gorge was relatively calm and the pilot very circumspect! The second gorge was a different matter. With the tide now being exceptionally low the height and turbulence was such that there was no chance of taking the gap on this one. Nor were any of us keen to even venture too close. Much as we enjoyed the buzz second time round we knew that we had it all the night before.

Turbulence in the outflow of the narrower of the two horizontal falls

Flying back to Derby our pilot took us the coastal route over the Buccaneer Archipelago.
Extremely windy as we came in to land in the harbour that appeared to be more mud than water we all found ourselves clutching the little plane as if to keep it together!

The Buccaneer Archipelago

When the pilot attempted to grab the mooring rope while coping with gusty conditions and taxiing at the same time - we held our breath! Even when the little dinghy arrived the plane’s wings threatened to crack down on the boat’s canopy. When all was finally under control we climbed down only to be advised that the boat wouldn’t get us far. At the base of the wharf we sloshed through the mud to climb the never-ending stairway to the top. On departing for this trip we had stepped down just four!

As Syd and Alida were in the same caravan park, we gave them a lift back in Skiv. Such was our joint elation that a couple overhearing us immediately went out and booked an overnight trip to the Horizontal Falls. When you shell out on a trip such as this it is most gratifying when it surpasses all expectations.

Week 20 (7th - 11th August)

Do we, don’t we, will we, won’t we DO the Gibb River Road? This question has circulated through our brains and conversations with other travellers over and over again. Pamphlets gathered, maps surveyed, road reports obtained in an effort to decide while waiting out 10 days in Broome and, in spite of that, the final decision has yet to be made!

Monday came, although not without frustration. “Broome time” had us wait the repair man until well into the afternoon plus the bus arrived late for Paula taking her to Derby. After 7 weeks it is odd getting accustomed to her absence. We take our hats off to Paula as a major traveller, able to do without water for a good few days using wet wipes! Thankfully the warranty repairs were all completed to our satisfaction. To celebrate, we went to see this year’s Australian entry to the Cannes Film Festival, Ten Canoes, at the oldest garden cinema (dated 1916) in the world. The no-see-ums that lurked beneath the low deck chairs and slatted benches and chomped us throughout the film certainly did not add to the pleasure!

To be part of the 2006 Census Night we added another day in Broome giving us plenty of time to check out the weekly specials in the two big super-markets and stock up for our Kimberley experience.

Back on the road again, leaving Broome for Australia’s unique north-west, we are reminded of Ken Tinley’s inscription in a book that he gave us in 1997 as new immigrants …. “the vast wildness of this land is the space for the soul to grow into ….. revel in its unique wonders”, finally takes life as we enter the Kimberley. George is filled with anticipation at using his new digital camera which, thanks to the bargaining skills of son-in-law Paul, arrived safely in Broome ready for this journey.

With Derby 221km away we put half behind us before settling down in a roadside rest area mid-morning. Despite the relatively early hour, folk were already gathering and by nightfall there were 15 vans gathered in a loose laager. Held captive in Broome we have missed bush camping. When the full moon rose that night bathing our campsite in its light, we felt especially privileged.

The approach to Derby brought a landscape characterised by numerous, various shaped boabs (common Australian usage for baobabs) set amongst masses of termite mounds, was a special delight thanks to our African heritage.

The Prison Tree

Again, accommodation is at a premium in Derby. Luck had us gain another overflow site (adjacent to the washing lines!) in a small, but spotlessly clean park - West Kimberley Lodge. Derby, surrounded by extensive mudflats at the bottom of King Sound, is a hot sleepy little town. Its facilities spread out all over the place even include a rodeo ring. The middle of the main street lined is by boabs. Jutting out into the sea is a semi-circular wharf used for the export of zinc and lead concentrates. The wharf is set on the tallest piers imaginable because Derby experiences the highest tides in the country amounting at times to 11.8m in height! It is yet another great place to watch the sun fall into the sea at sun-downer time.

Sunset at Derby's semi-circular wharf

In haste to log in this week’s blog we find ourselves split between what we have covered and are about to embark on! In celebration of our 38th wedding anniversary we have chosen to experience the excitement of a flight on this seaplane.

Kimberley Seaplane - courtesy of Kimberley Extreme

It will take us over the Buccaneer Archipelago and the famous Horizontal Falls to land at Talbot Bay for a night. We will partake in a jet-boat ride through the Falls, graded extreme due to the state of the tide. An update will be put in the next blog, sometime down the track, on the outcome of our potential adrenalin rush.

Week 19 (31st July - 6th August)

Well - for the last week we have been living with dozens of other nomads, cooped up like refugees in what is called an “overflow park” and we now know what our guide book meant when it advised that “when visiting Broome over the period June to August pre-booking is essential”.

Until now we have always managed to find somewhere to camp but even the locals are saying that in all the years they have lived in Broome, they have never seen it so busy. All five caravan parks are full; the earliest we can expect to get a vehicle serviced is in ten days time; the caravan repairer is so busy he is playing extremely hard to get and, if had not been for the Police and Citizens Youth Club acting as an overflow park, where we are presently parked on the skate boarding rink, our next best option was to camp in the grounds of the Seventh Day Adventist’s Church or the Pistol Club! Many travellers are in the same predicament. We are closely packed in with a time limit on how long we can spend here and, as fast as one leaves, another takes his place.

With little to attract us in the shade-less, hot caravan park (the daily temperatures hovering around 33°C) we have become professional beach bums, spending the best part of each day overlooking Cable Beach – reputably one of the finest in the world and, as far as we are concerned, justifiably so.

Sundowner time at Cable Beach - the 4WD brigade

We have found certain characteristics of Broome to be reminiscent of Darwin and that of the Florida Keys. Each evening, everyone gathers to watch the sun fall into the sea. A scene enhanced by palm trees, the outline of a pearl lugger silhouetted against the horizon or the sight of the camels and their riders suffused against the glow of the setting sun, each being scenes depicting the iconic images of Broome that we have been able to experience first hand.

Camel train on Cable beach

Another memory of this beach for us, are the masses of 4WDs that weave over the rocks onto the north side to share the beach with the camel riders and nudists. As evening draws in they sit in front of their vehicles with stubbies in hand and preparing their barbeques as the sun goes down. On Sunday, we too, are going to take Skiv down onto the beach for our last supper with Paula. She is booked to depart on the Greyhound come Monday morning.

Although we have been in limbo all week waiting for repairs to Getaway we couldn’t have done it in a more pleasant town. Our blog may read as if we only remained on Cable beach – not so! We have walked Town beach and the Port’s deep water jetty; been out to the Broome Bird Observatory in Roebuck Bay ;

Last light at Cable beach

visited the History Museum as well as the weekend markets outside the old courthouse and in Chinatown. Not to mention Gantheaume Point with its lighthouse, the replicas of the dinosaur footprints (the real ones can only be seen on extremely low tides) and most striking of all, the brilliantly warm colours of the rocks and soil.

Rocks on shore of Roebuck Bay

STOP PRESS: Sunday - We have struck lucky in a small way by relocating to a parking bay in the Broome Vacation Village. As soon as a proper camp site becomes available in the next day or two we can have it. Who cares! This suits us and has allowed us to get all our washing done quickly and easily within minutes of pulling in. Hopefully the repairman will arrive early tomorrow? With Broome time reigning we dare not hold our breath...