Life is breathtaking experiences! Rounding a corner on the crest of the Mossman Bluff we came upon an unexpectedly beautiful window in the forest giving us our first view of the translucent Coral Sea, its steep, forested coastline, off shore islands and the Great Barrier Reef. In low gear we wound our way down to the lowlands where fields of sugar cane, the smell of molasses and humidity reminded us of our lives in Natal. Entering Mossman, we stopped to admire a magnificent avenue of rain trees be-whiskered in epiphytes. In crossing the Mossman River we saw a family swimming in the clear shallow waters and, with our tummies rumbling, we couldn’t resist turning into the well timed, adjacent grassy picnic park. Warnings of crocodiles took us aback as this place looked so sublime! Tempting as Mossman was, we still had time on our side and being so close to Daintree National Park we preferred the idea of crossing the river on the ferry and spending our next week exploring the far side.
In short order we were aboard one of the last remaining car ferries in Australia. Its slick procedure soon had us deposited on the other side with a narrow road that coiled away up the Alexandra range. The steepest road we have had to contend with in our rig that had Skiv grinding slowly upwards dragging the 3 ton weight of Getaway behind, with unknown metallic rattlings and shaking giving Lea nervous disorders.
The structure and composition of this rain forest with its mass of tree ferns, cycads and palms was quite different to the Tablelands. The thick canopy created tunnels of green gloom requiring headlights, alternated with glary bouts of sunlight filtering in on outer bends. The name Rainforest Village sounded a busy peopled place but we were its only guests. Once the afternoon had cooled down we popped down to Thornton Beach to experience the catch phrase “where the rain forest meets the sea”.
“Where the forest meets the sea …..”
The last time we walked the length of a beautiful beach was in Broome on the west coast. Many moons and kilometres later here we were on the east coast. Not too willing to dabble our toes in the water having sighted the bottle of vinegar and the warning about stingers (box jelly fish) at the entrance to the beach! Well concealed parking spots and restaurant on the edge of the forest had not been allowed to detract from the wilderness quality of the beach. With coconuts on trees for the taking we picked up two coconuts on the high water mark visualising a feast. Unfortunately, in cracking them open we were covered in foul smelling milk well contaminated by seawater.
Enveloped in rain forest we felt no need to venture out in Skiv the next day. Content to be an observer as life in the forest unfolded around us and more so to watch a perfect example of “cloud stripping” occur on our first full day there. Cloud stripping is a term used by researchers to describe the process of rain forest plants harvesting the moisture in clouds as they become draped over the mountain tops. We generally think of it as mist and drizzle passing through on a sunny day. Our only visitors turned out to be big black march flies trying to nip us! Anxious to know about Holly and being out of contact again we planned a trip, without Getaway, to Cooktown the next day.
When you hear the word “track” in Australia you know you are in for a road with a difference. Bloomfield Track is one of those roads and tour operators charge big bucks to do this adventure route along the coast from Cape Tribulation to Cooktown. Our inner excitement and reservations generated by doing this track had us up unusually early and away through the rain forest with its ceiling of thick cloud. Reaching Cape Tribulation at an hour too early to find anyone around to ask for a current report on the road ahead, we “fearlessly” pushed on. The 76km of gravel road we faced, didn’t sound much, yet this stretch was characterised by excessively steep ascents and descents, hair-pin bends, un-bridged creek and river crossings until we join the Mulligan Highway taking us through to Cooktown. One particular mountain was much like a roller-coaster. The same s-l-o-w upward creep, teetering at the top to anticipate in horror the perilous descent below, triggered a recall of the description given to Bill Bryson in his book “Down Under” of this road being “dangerously and unnervingly tippy even in good weather”. Never truer words for this moment as we could so easily somersault or slither out of control on the loose gravel which reminded us of how walking on it was like having ball bearings underfoot. Fortunately Skiv’s traction in 4WD overcame it all.
Going, the scenery was dulled by the cloud cover but on our return the western sun highlighted seascape and forest views that made us fully appreciate that it’s not always the destination that counts, but the journey. Adding further interest, once across the Bloomfield River causeway, were the small settlements – the flowering red flame trees in Wujal Wujal (an Aboriginal community); the huge sign “Welcome to the historic town of Bloomfield” outside the one and only building we could see seemed ridiculous. A town? - The village of Tetney is far bigger. We could find nothing to explain its historic value and it doesn’t even feature on our map. Road works in progress along different sections brought us in contact with hardy looking characters shouting “Buffalo Man!” at the sight of the horns decorating Skiv.
Nearing the northern end of the Wet Tropics World Heritage Area a black mountain loomed in front of us, creating curiosity and rightly so, for, when we reached the lookout we learnt about a unique bit of real estate – massive piles of large granite boulders aptly named the Black Mountain National Park.
Black Mountain - jumble of granite boulders
Aboriginal dreaming, their culture (men’s business) and superstition abound here. Bumps - pilots report aircraft turbulence over the mountain, bangs – from rocks cracking in the heat and mournful moans - as a result of wind and water moving deep inside create further mystique. Endemic to this desolate and eerie looking mountain is the Rock Haunting Frog, the Black Mountain Skink and gecko. People entering the caverns and tunnels beneath the rocks are said to never return and a further deterrent is the unusual occurrence of painful stinging bushes around the base of the mountain. Fig tree seedlings have established themselves in rock crevices by extending long roots to draw water to form green patches on the otherwise bare mountain sides. The similarity to the piles of red dolerite that we saw on the Burrup Peninsula in Western Australia struck us as remarkable, except this time it’s granite that has been blackened by blue-green algae.
Cooktown’s place in history is a known. Our Australian psyche felt the sense of importance looking out over the sheltered harbour setting within the Endeavour River, more so when we stood on the very spot where Capt. James Cook and crew stepped ashore. They inadvertently established the first European settlement on Australian soil, June 1770, to repair their ship the Endeavour. Cooktown residents have turned this river frontage into a Centennial Park with due cognisance given to its Aboriginal and European forefathers. Within this park we felt utter relief receiving the “all clear” news from Holly and left with a song in our hearts. As we drove the main street we were overtaken by a truck with a hillbilly type leaning out of the window yelling “Like your horns!” and locals walking the pavements all stared hard. The enormous pleasure George gains from the comments and looks his horns draw are tantamount in Lea’s mind to George’s early days with his mayoral Armstrong Siddely. Who says he isn’t a show off? With not a great deal for us to see in the town we tossed up between a visit to the Museum or the Botanic Gardens. The latter’s appeal with its walking trail won and just as well, because we gained richly. On arrival we found Nature’s Powerhouse built in an architectural ‘troppo’ design incorporating the use of corrugated iron. It originated from the bequests of two former Cooktown residents. Both were naturalists and their original paintings and collections based on local fauna and flora are housed there, along with a well stocked book shop and veranda café. We didn’t do much of the trail as time raced by while in the absorbing galleries. The gardens, proposed three years after the first settlers arrived, were established in 1878 as the “Queen’s Gardens” in true Victorian style with fountains, cricket oval et al. Over ensuing years cyclones and neglect all but obliterated the garden. When cleared a few years ago the remnants generated a whole new interest and a Botanic Garden re-emerged providing wonderful surrounds for the Powerhouse. The oddity is that a place so deserving merits almost nothing in the brochures.
A shocking account caught our attention in the Powerhouse of a Mr Pootchemunka taking his daughter-in-law, Muriel, and her baby across the Archer estuary in an outrigger canoe with a freshly speared wallaby. When a big croc attacked the canoe Pootchemunka threw the wallaby to it and paddled furiously for shore. Not satisfied, the crocodile reared up and grabbed Muriel, pulling her with babe, into the water. Pootchemunka leapt onto the croc, beating it with his paddle, until it let go. When Pootcemunka & Muriel reached the shallows they saw the baby’s nappy bobbing 100m away! Pootchemunka swam back to retrieve the baby. Mother and child survived the ordeal and Pootchemunka was awarded a medal of bravery for his heroism. Actually Archer’s river had motivated our interest as we had planned to have our picnic lunch at Archer’s Point on our homeward journey as a result of having read Ian Hamilton’s Beaches, Bush Roads and Bull Ants which George had bought from the author in Darwin’s Parap market. In Ian’s story of circumnavigating Australia he had mentioned bush camping at Archer’s Point, a short detour off the Mulligan Highway, which made us keen to check it out over lunch. Overlooking the estuary Pootchemunka’s tale took on a vividness of its own.
Croc warning at Archer Point
Using low range 4WD to climb the steepest of the mountain slopes on our return to the Daintree National Park along with experience gained earlier that morning, helped us cover the distance in a better time. This enabled us to stop often and enjoy lookouts and beaches along the way. Once back at Cape Tribulation we made good use of the late afternoon light to explore the area. If only we hadn’t stopped to read a caution about a bold cassowary in the vicinity and how to “step back slowly clapping and yelling” should he approach, we wouldn’t have missed seeing this bold fellow walking on the beach by a minute, if that! All we had was his fresh foot prints in the sand. Last, but certainly not least, the Marrdja Botanical Walk is something Queensland Parks & Wildlife Service deserves many accolades for. Despite the lateness of the hour we don’t think we could have chosen a better time to wander along this fine board walk through the forest and mangrove swamp without a soul in sight and the sounds of the forest evensong resonating from every quarter. The self guided information on the evolution and speciation of the habitats was excellent. The examples of looking glass and cannonball mangroves, basket ferns and fan palms were the finest we’ve seen.
We made our way out of the Daintree on Thursday planning to stop at the Discovery Centre en route until the name Cow Bay caught our eye and took us in that direction. We found a most beautiful beach that beckoned us to take a walk along it. A creek running out on the northern side had deposited a fan of pebbles at the high water mark and at the end of the beach was a headland of jagged rocks. We found ourselves reluctant to leave such an idyllic beach for what could well be a tourist trap - That we stayed and spent a most peaceful morning reading in the shade of some large overhanging trees and gazing out on the tranquil Cow Bay scene.
After a late lunch we made the haul up the Alexandra Range, crossed the Daintree River and wound our way through the sugar cane fields to the little village of Daintree. Their lifeblood appears to come from the many tour boat operators cruising the river wildlife spotting. Daintree waters were once home to many large “salties”. That changed in Dec. 1985, when the co-owner of the General Store in the village was killed. In the aftermath of horror a government culling programme was approved and the crocodile population was all but wiped out. All this came to mind when we found ourselves camped in a tiny caravan park right opposite the General Store and re-read the story (Hugh Edward’s Crocodile Attack) of the circumstances surrounding this tragedy.
We’ve become addicted to northern Queensland’s intoxicating mixture of sea, sand, mountains, rivers and forest … so we didn’t roll far from Daintree Village on Friday morning as we happened upon a council run caravan park at Wonga Beach. Offering such close proximity to the lapping waves in the shade of huge trees we couldn’t resist settling in for a long week end. It’s easy to spend mornings on this beach with its coconut palm fringe and sweeping views across the bay. When the tide receded giving us a much wider beach we noticed black lumps and on close inspection discovered coils of dark sand being extruded before our very eyes. We’ve never seen this before. George assumes it’s a type of worm feeding on the muddy sand and excreting it as fast as it is being ingested. We will have to find out.
“Woollies” in Mossman gave us a good excuse to revisit this pretty town, pick up fresh supplies and spend the afternoon in Mossman Gorge. Glad we didn’t miss this one with its boulder strewn river creating very popular spa pools. The loop circuit through towering rain forest took us on a rugged route between two noisy creeks feeding into the Mossman River. The sound of rushing water became a new addition to our normally quiet walks in the cathedral-like atmosphere of the forest suppressing many of the bird calls and leaf rustlings of brush turkeys perpetually scratching through the leaf litter.
The majority of the week has been spent chilling out enjoying our surrounds…
Chilling out in Daintree National Park
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