Payment for another day in
Coolalinga Caravan Park had George find the parking lot outside teeming with
people queuing to buy fireworks. It was Northern Territory Day when by law, Territorians
may buy fireworks and set them off between 6-11pm. Sure enough, all hell broke
loose around sunset. Fireworks forbidden
within the park yet ‘Sensurround’ engulfed us with sight, sound and the smell
of explosive powders. A steady noise of crackling, banging or booming like
dynamite into the night until blessed silence fell almost on the stroke of
eleven o’clock. How disciplined! Random
fireworks in the height of the Dry seemed unbelievable. Days later, according
to NT News the fireworks accounted
for 679 grass/scrub fires, 98 fireworks-related disturbances, at least three
homes were damaged (one destroyed), a shed where someone was living was
wrecked, numerous livestock killed, and a bird aviary was burnt down. The day
after, we came across cardboard debris
of fireworks scattered across the lawns of the Esplanade along with deeply
etched burn scars in the green grass.
During evening constitutionals around
the park, we came across pod mahogany trees felled by the March cyclone that
swept through this Coolalinga Park smashing cabins, caravans, a bus and shelters
belonging to permanent residents. A
friendly dog greeted us as we stared at two huge uprooted trees enveloping a
bus. No damage to the bus as the branches had fallen in the direction of Banjo,
the dog. His owner Ian, one of the effected residents, described the chaos that
resulted (having to crawl out beneath the branches on his hands and knees to
get to his damaged car). Insurance companies declared this an “act of god”! A
very lonely old fellow who lost his wife - his indispensable “navigator”, from breast
cancer last year. More recently, he’d adopted Banjo, who was thought to have
escaped from a local puppy farm. Good company, particularly when Banjo
encouraged interaction with folk passing by.
Our last day in Coolalinga enabled us to stock
up for the next two weeks at the most convenient Woolworths and bring our
laundry up to date before driving into Darwin for the evening. We took a walk
along the esplanade, place of so many memories overlooked by our apartment The
Sentinel. Wonderful visits shared in our Sentinel home with Lea’s parents,
George’s brother Peter, our children, our grandson Otto at seven months and
many friends. We were returning to the west side of The Sentinel to enjoy the
sunset and dinner with Jo van der Mark. What
goes around comes around… Always such a pleasure to meet up with Jo, who, like us,
fell in love with the ‘The Sentinel’, its Esplanade ambiance and view across
the harbour while visiting us from Jabiru.
D-Day had arrived … in mounting excitement
we moved to Happy Valley Tourist Park for its ‘proximity’ relatively speaking.
to The Argus Hotel. Not only was our site difficult to access. we were backed
onto very noisy earthworks associated with the construction of another caravan
park. Consequently, we had to endure the clatter of digging machines, the sound
of reversing excavators and trucks, and put up with all the dust generated in
the process. Add, the deafening sound of air force jets flying past at
super-sonic speeds and commercial aircraft landing at the airport; surprising “joys”
for an inner-city location counteracted by the fact we wouldn’t be in residence
much thanks to the Top End Howman Indaba about to commence.
Top End Howman Indaba / Corroboree - 3-13 July
Cousin Alison Howman first mooted
a Family Indaba in celebration of her eldest sister’s arrival at the three
score years and ten door to George and Lea four years ago. We considered
possible destinations. The time of year
having enormous bearing on the choices. Alison began the slow process of
ascertaining family interest and ideal dates arising. By January 2017, Alison
was able to pinpoint June/July 2018 as the optimal period with sixteen keen
people. Weather and logistics considered, Northern Territory was chosen.
Gillian Woodley, Alison’s wonderful Travel Agent was handed the unenviable task
of pulling together an itinerary for cousins scattered across Australia and South
Africa.
Central Australia was first on
the agenda with family flying into Alice Springs from different parts of
Australia and South Africa. At the starting line were Alison and Amanda,
Bev and Tom, Chris Jones, Rob and Pene ( who flew in from Istanbul after she
had attended a conference and delivered a paper to 800 delegates). Sadly
missing was Leecy. While Sherry and Keith had to withdraw due to their
difficult circumstances. Warm by day,
cold by night; Uluru, Kings Canyon and Kata Tjuta were all visited before returning
to Alice Springs. Here, Chris flew back
to Sydney and long-time family
friend Verena Olivier joined the group
boarding the famous train, The Ghan. for the next leg to Darwin.
Tom on the Ghan
I cannot do justice to this little
tale as I wasn’t there. The story goes -
the very dapper man above, politely
attempted to make conversation with a table companion placed
beside him at dinner in the
dining carriage. Tom was so rudely rebuffed that eventually he sent a desperate non-verbal look of ‘save me’ to his wife. He was saved!
Robin swapped places, only to be met with gentle conversation. Different
horses for difficult courses or a book being judged by its cover, who knows…
Up in Darwin, Patriarch, Tim
Howman and his wife Les arrived by air. Another set of old friends of the
family, Mike and Alison Bryan; new grey
nomads had purposefully driven to Darwin to
mix in with the Indaba when they could.
Tuesday 3 July
Mike and Alison drove Tim and Les
out to the Palmerston railhead / passenger terminal to join up with Lea and
George in a surprise welcome for the Clan on the Ghan. George had created a
banner with very errant balloons … In the hullaballoo of joyous excitement – we
marked the arrival with photographs.
Tim and Les had discovered the
hotel did not do dinner; we suggested Fish and Chips on the Wharf which was not
only perfect for our numbers; it was a very worthy, classic Darwinian venue. We
were happy to head that way and set up tables overlooking the harbour while the
long-winded process of transferring passenger from the train to hotels took
place. Tim, Les, Mike and Alison joined us. There on a beautiful balmy night on
the waterfront of Stokes Wharf we awaited the gang.
Everything came together
beautifully down on the wharf … no one wanted the night to end but age dictates
sleep and when a taxi was not available for at least forty minutes to an hour.
Mike and George began a shuttle service.
A ‘megalosaurus’ problem arises when you have a number of people! Those
left behind decided a walk towards the hotel would go down well. Too late to advise George (who’d actually missed a turn on his way to the hotel and been delayed). Lea preferred to walk with the group rather
than hang around by herself. Only one route into the Harbour precinct and SKV
easily identified; What could go wrong! Mike
returned in double quick time and took the last willing passengers and
Lea hopped in. However, at the traffic lights SKV had stopped in the opposite
direction and Lea scrambled out and crossed to the other side of the road to
wave George down. Her husband would
hardly miss her bright colours running across the road with no traffic at that time of night… On the change of light, he drove straight past her totally oblivious to
flailing arms and yells, let alone Mike’s flashing headlights. Lea crossed back
to the other side as the determined walkers, Amanda, Verena and her husband
Andrew took the cliffside pathway above her.
Due to the poor lighting, they felt the island in the middle of the road
would be safer for catching George’s eye on his return… So Lea waited, as the others disappeared out
of sight. Fortunately Mike had seen George pass his wife without sighting her and he returned a third
time to ensure her safety. Just as well, as George again careered past,
straight through the traffic lights. This time, his open window allowed her
anguished yell to penetrate… A backward glance gave him realisation to his
wife’s whereabouts. Meanwhile, Mike had come through in the opposite direction
and drew up beside Lea. A heart stopping moment until she recognised him! All’s well that ends well although, George’s
comment next day entered the annals – “ I don’t pick up whores”!
Wednesday 4th
We all met up at the Argus
Hotel ready for a Darwin day…
Team photo in the Argus lobby
Half the party went to the War
Museum at Eastpoint, the other half chose to wander around the city and along the esplanade – George and Lea were
happy to join this group and be their guides.
Paspaley Pearl Building- in front
of the Alannah and Madeleine Memorial. The two little girls gunned down in the
Tasmanian Port Arthur Massacre, along with their mother in 1999.
That evening we gathered together on Stokes
Wharf and boarded the 25m long, tri-level catamaran - the Charles Darwin for a Sunset Dinner Cruise on the harbour – a
seafood buffet.
Kakadu was today’s destination.
Three comfortable Land Cruisers
hired for the duration of the Top End adventures took the family out
to Humpty Doo to do some bird watching on Fogg Dam. Visit the Windows
on the Wetland display centre and by 11a.m join a Jumping Crocodile cruise
on the Adelaide River.
Meanwhile, we made our slow way
to Kakadu - 240km was an unusually long haul for us and we’d suggested meeting at Bark Hut Inn for
lunch, a very popular roadhouse during our years of living in the Territory. We
were dismayed to find it had recently closed as had Annaburroo lagoon camping
area opposite. We were able to send a text advising the group to do their own
thing and we’d meet up in Jabiru.
Mamukala billabong, Kakadu NP … We were delighted to chance on Guy and Dimity Boggs and his family at the Mamukala bird
hide when we stopped for lunch.
Later the family stopped at the hide on Mamukala.
Anbinik Kakadu Resort’s caravan
park was new to our time of living in Jabiru. On arrival, we discovered the old
and shabby residential caravan park
known as Lakeview had been turned into very attractive and well-priced holiday
accommodation. The en-site shower / toilet provided with each powered caravan site
a very pleasant surprise for us. Further
along Alison and Amanda shared a well-appointed wooden cabin with Verena and
Andrew. However, a poor design was the toilet/ shower outside via steps down and along a short path. Even
further along were the bush huts for the Mill’s, Howman’s and Fair’s. The steps
up were impossibly steep and lethal. Lea
was horrified when she attempted the
entrance /exit to the room. Once inside, she realised there were no windows …
until Pene pointed out that the walls were perforated holes to allow air flow.
Totally new idea and it certainly
didn’t appeal to Lea with her light phobia. Under moonlight those holes would
be a mass pin prick of lights. By night
with a light on inside, anyone could be forgiven for believing a shadow dance
was taking place! Jabiru Sports Club had loud music on the Friday night booming
through those walls. Lots of drawbacks to those huts…
Thankfully Anbinik had a fine Thai restaurant on site. They
advised us to come early to enable their kitchen to cope as this was a very popular eating place.
Other than missing out Bev’s order they
provided a very good meal.
Friday 6th
Tim and Les try out the stunning wood bench at Bowali
Bowali Park Visitor Centre was a perfect place for breakfast and
introduction to Kakadu (a phonetic rending of Gagadju; the name of one of the
Traditional owners of the land). A wealth of informative displays and videos to
be seen. George was leading the day trip to the Ubirr Region riding up with
Alison’s vehicle. Talk about a stop/start journey for those behind the lead car
and it’s erstwhile birders! However, we all saw dingoes seen en route to East
Alligator – Pene spotted two Sea Eagles
and Tom was able to capture a fine shot of them with his camera. The
leaders missed that! We were headed for the East Alligator River’s Manngarre
Walk.
Unfortunately storm damage had closed much of
it off. There was a total absence of fruit bats and, we spotted a salt water crocodile on the
far bank of the Alligator. A confusing name for a river until you understand
that British explorer and navigator
Phillip King while charting Van Diemen Gulf in 1818, noted the large river estuaries south, west and
east and named the three rivers Alligator
after one of their ships! Mosquitoes laid into many of us that we were very
glad to escape the monsoon forest. We moved on to Bardedjilidji taking a walk
through sandstone outliers in search of chestnut quilled rock pigeon. That was very
successfully accomplished.
We returned to have our picnic lunch
at Cahill Crossing named for pastoralist/drover, Paddy Cahill who held the original leases here and at Oenpelli
(Gunbalanya) on the other side of the river. Cahill also hunted buffalo in the 1890s. Only a few hundred
remain in Kakadu (said to be on the increase) after they were removed
under the Brucellosis and Tuberculosis eradication program around 20-30 years
ago. In the book “Croc Attack” this Crossing is a place of nightmares – not
only for crocodile attacks; the strength and height of waters easily sweeping
vehicles away.
To serve the point, two unclaimed
land cruiser lay belly up below the causeway. Every season up to ten are washed away – we were seeing
two of four most recent losses.
Today, the East Alligator appeared innocuous as the tidal range was at
its lowest and families all fished off the shallow causeway. Bev came back from the Border toilet wondering
if she had seen a Rainbow Pitta. It turned out to be a Mistletoe bird – a
little black bird with a striking red breast that spreads mistletoe seed
through droppings that adhere to the branches of eucalypts. Not much later,
George spotted a Rainbow Pitta close to our picnic table and beckoned the
Twitchers … no sighting but knowing it was a territorial bird, Amanda ‘called-up’
on tape and the pitta was immediately induced to show itself.
The day had marched on and our
last stop for this region was Ubirr, an outlier (rock outcrop) separated from
the Arnhem Land Escarpment – Kakadu’s
most outstanding geological feature. Aeons of weathering and water have dissected the plateau and the setting
sun highlights this beautiful Park
feature. Ubirr ( Obiri Rock) is
surrounded by enormous flood plains and
a walk to the top gives sweeping views
across the vast swamp land with outlier shapes adding interest to the
landscape. We were all mindful of
Leecy’s birthday today- three months
gone from our world thus when a jabiru was spotted standing sentinel-like on
the top of a cliff edged outlier; a most unusual setting for a jabiru. We
couldn’t help but feel the presence of Leecy’s spirit amongst us, today of all
days, particularly as Ubirr is a Rock
Art Site and Aboriginal art reflects deep spiritual and cultural relationships
with the natural environment. The jabiru was incredibly meaningful in many
respects.
Once again, it was good to arrive back in camp and walk into
dinner at our large outdoor table and relax
and chatter together. This time, we knew to share our meal as the
helpings were large.
Saturday 7th
A third night of Thai food was
considered pushing the boundaries so while everyone returned to Bowali for breakfast Alison,
Amanda and Lea returned to the IGA supermarket in Jabiru with a shopping
list for a BBQ that night. With the Uranium Mine close to shutting down
much of Jabiru has a run-down feel… The Butcher and the Bakery have recently
closed. Thankfully, the IGA provided us with everything required for making our
own dinner. A quick stop back to camp to refrigerate everything we returned to
Bowali to begin our day in the Nourlangie Region. This massive sandstone
outlier rising out of the lowlands we
had travelled through, is immediately impressive.
Concealed within are the Anabangbang and Nanguluwur galleries with their intricate
X-ray representations of barramundi, crocodile and ‘lightening man’ in
Aboriginal art work. The
Anabangbang shelter/ cave home for Aborigines for at least 20,000
years with archaeological evidence more frequent in the past 6,000 years.
It’s a beautiful walk around this Rock Art
site and up to the look-out point from which one is able to appreciate the
extent of the Escarpment and the
inundation of the lowlands 8,000 years previously when the sea level was
higher.
George had intended taking the
‘fittest and strongest’ on a 6km return walk to a pool on Gubara Creek to
experience a favourite place of ours in the past. Here, in the crystal clear
waters one can swim and snorkel with the fresh water fishes of Kakadu. Thankfully,
while waiting at Bowali Park HQ George was advised of the croc danger at Gubara.
Instead, we all retired to the Anabangbang billabong a short distance away for
our picnic lunch. Pink eared ducks, magpie geese, Ibis, egrets and a spoon bill
kept binoculars trained.
Siesta time summoned… and
two vehicles left for home. Andrew stayed to sketch the scene in quiet time while George, Alison and Amanda
walked the shoreline watching for birds.
That evening we all gathered down
at the bush bungalows with see-through walls, in a lovely central area with gas
BBQ, kitchen area and tables for a wonderful evening together. Andrew cooked the lamb chops and
chicken. Verena made giant salads and Lea cooked up a potato salad and then
decided that her pudding in the deep freeze befitted the occasion.
Pene’s
illustrated boomerang “talking stick” was most timely introduced as Tom was
vying with Lea for interjecting and holding court all too often!
Totem names – some poetic licence
taken!
Beverley the Butterfly, Thomas
the Tortoise, Penelope Python, Leslie
the Lizard, Koala Alison, Andrew the
Platypus, Robin the Kangaroo, Amanda the Paddy-melon, Goanna George and blue
toed Lea the Lizard.
Leecy Jabiru, Timothy Toad (comes
from Queensland and he was an immigrant!), Possum Mike Bryan, Alison Bryan the Fairy Wren, Verena the
Echidna and in a while Crocodile – Chris Jones.
US? No not me … him!
Sunday 8th
A quick drive to take photos of the
Bouckaert’s McGorrey Road house and see Lea’s old school before leaving Jabiru.
We were delighted to find Flying Foxes irritably settling in for the day and wanted the gang to come down and see
them. Too late, they had departed on the road trip to Cooinda.
Fruit bats still roosting in the trees alongside our
old ERISS unit.
We took the road to Cooinda and there, we were not only horrified by the people
pressure in the campground; we were most disappointed to be delegated a
dreadful site in a far corner despite having pre-booked and paid many months
back. Our site was not only small and difficult to get into; any thought of hosting a meal for the family would
be an impossibility. After a time
consuming struggle to settle in, George decided the empty chairs and long tables
backing the length of three sites immediately behind us should the inmates
return, did not bear any further contemplation. A tent world bordered another
side giving little privacy and quiet as
well. He set off to request a possible relocation – unpowered if need be. The campground manager helped us to a more
peaceful and spacious setting without power but still well away from the
ablution block.
The gang rolled in later in the
day and gathered for a picnic lunch in the shade of trees not far from the
swimming pool. Planning the next meal was an essential as a group of 12 is not
easy and always required a table booked early to accommodate the kitchen.
Further, Cooinda’s loud, canned music
was off putting and their pricy menu had little appeal. Eventually we decided
to make our own ‘pot-luck’ outside Pene and Rob’s more central cabin before
many eagerly retired to the cool of their
cabins for an afternoon siesta.
Not
prepared to let grass grow under their feet, Ali and Amanda popped down to Yellow Waters
jetty/boardwalks to look for birds while Lea began preparing ingredients for
the evening meal in the caravan. A
delightful evening followed with a ‘take-away’ pizza starter followed by salmon
pasta cooked over our gas cylinder in a joint effort by the ladies. The evening topped by the arrival of a Barking
Owl in the trees above us. The
delightful “woof woofs” answered at intervals by another, some distance
off.
The morning began early for the majority
who took off for the dawning Cooinda Yellow Waters cruise. A ‘must see’ trip of
this large billabong fringed by paperbark and mangroves that gets its name from the concentrated nutrients producing an
algae giving the water a distinct yellow
tinge as the billabong contracts during
the dry season. George and Lea were content to sleep in and clean up after the
previous evening.
After a late breakfast included
after the 2 hour cruise, some were content to walk off their meal taking the
road to the Warradjan Aboriginal
Cultural Centre while the rest were chauffeured by Alison. The interesting
circular design of the centre represents a Warradjan (pig nosed turtle) an
important totemic being to the Aboriginals. Like Bowali Visitors Centre, there
was a theatre showing beautiful videos of the region
In the late afternoon we all returned to the
wetland boardwalk to enjoy the bird life and even spied a salt water croc resting up nonchalantly on a
sand bank. An unexpected spill of emotion engulfed a small group of us. Unwittingly, Tom, with his 83X
zoom lens delightedly captured Lea’s hand gesticulating during the impassioned interlude. Paparazzi
easily misread situations!
The caring and sharing spread further into the
evening as we once again gathered outside the Mills cabin over sundowners,
bringing healing solace. Blue winged kookaburras added their commiserations this
night, before heading off to their roosts. Take away pizza and fish and chips
from a visiting mobile van fed the troops.
To complete the night - Woof! Woof!
Tuesday 10th
The thought of many hours on the
road travelling west to Pine Creek and then north up to Batchelor was a
distance hard to stomach. Everyone was happy to fall in with the George’s short
cut to Batchelor via Old Jim Jim road.
On the service road of the now defunct Bark
Hut Inn ’Getaway’ provided a coffee/tea
break for everyone before the next half of the adventure.
The intrepid sisters arriving at
Bark Hut … they were taking time out together on this route.
Next section took us on the Marrakai Road, crossing the Adelaide River. Reports of a rough, rocky river
crossing of the Adelaide, had many
scenarios and anxieties build up in the approach to this big river. George
assured Lea that a viewing would determine the crossing and so we took the Marrakai road hoping for
the best. When you expect the worst you are pleasantly surprised by a picturesque crossing with no nightmarish
qualities and no resemblance to the bridges
over the waters of the Adelaide River (named in honour of the Dowager
Queen Adelaide) on either the Stuart Highway or Arnhem Highway – gateway to Kakadu where the crocodiles jump for tourists.
Entering Batchelor we soon came
across the Litchfield Motel where everyone was booked in. We had booked a site
at the Litchfield Tourist Park – thinking we would be close by as we’d been in
Jabiru and Cooinda. Instead, we drove and drove…to find ourselves twelve kms
away from the family and phone signal virtually non-existent. Fortunately, it was the tourist Park closest
to the Litchfield National Park entrance.
Lea was able to send a message advising of the difficult communications
and our location at a small spot on the main road that enabled messages to come
and go. Soon after 4pm the tribe turned
up at the entrance and we all took off in 3 vehicles to explore Litchfield
National Park
A visit to the intriguing magnetic
termite mounds lying across the black soil plains (vleis) looked like tomb
stones …
Behind the parking lot, two
Cathedral termite mounds over fifty years old.
The best time to visit Buley Rockhole’s
is before or after the crowds. That is, early morning or in the evening such is
the popularity of these swimming holes. We were timing it well as many cars
were departing the parking area and we walked down to take a look. A few quickly succumbed to the inviting water
and took cooling dips.
Aware that dinner was booked for
7pm there was soon a mad dash to meet our appointed time. Lea and George were
dropped off on the roadside to change and collect SKV in time to enjoy a good
dinner at Litchfield Motel. It is rare
to find a tourist venue go the extra mile. Our table for 12 had been notably
decorated with cacti and leaves. Service could not have been more obliging as
was the Chef when he came out to say goodnight.
No mosquitoes, comfortable chairs and relaxed atmosphere had us all chatting
for longer than any previous night.
Wednesday 11th
As prearranged, the 3 land Cruisers rolled up the highway to
Litchfield National Park shortly before 9.am and the tribe were quickly on
their way to Florence Falls …
A team photo at the Look-out before taking the 135 steps
down to the base of the Florence Falls and it’s pool.
Andrew had the urge to sketch the
scene while others were keen to take the shady forest walk out and around the back
of the falls. Since Lea recalled it as a rough climb out she took the stairs
and joined Tom waiting at the out-look, chatting to everyone, as was his
way. The trail had been upgraded and
easily covered by the walkers… three immediately cooled down in the creek close
to the car park. Just as Verena faced
climbing down the stairs again to fetch her husband, Andrew appeared from the
end of the walking track and we were all present and correct, ready to move on.
A rough and bumpy road along the narrow track to the ‘Lost
City’ took time. Litchfield’s natural
landmark of weathered sandstone
pillars giving rise to its name provided
more photographic opportunities.
Tummies were rumbling and rather
than lunch there we pushed on to Tolmer Falls where a most suitable shelter
with table and benches awaited us and we soon tucked into our picnic. Followed by a gentle walk along to the
look-out platforms
Spectacular views of the gorge
and surrounding sandstone formations. No swimming here as the gorge with its pools are a
protection zone for vulnerable ghost bats and orange nosed bats.
Wangi Falls, with its large
permanent and natural pool at its base
is the most popular and easily
accessible falls in the Park for all ages. As a result the facilities there include a kiosk,
grassed picnic areas and board walks. Amazingly, our tribe were very taken by this
busy area, thoroughly enjoying the easy access and swims out to the base of
the falls. Any thought of returning to Buley Rock Holes for the last swim were
shoved aside. Unfortunately a coffee break between swims proved bad timing as
the café was not only closing down for the day, they had run out of
everything other than ice-creams and
cool drinks. Down on the boardwalk
leading into the monsoon forest, the intermittent sounds of bickering bats were soon picked up over the sounds of people
and falling water. Everyone was happy to
chill out the last hours there before making tracks for home.
Dinner had been brought forward
half an hour and there was still a dash to be ready on time. The penultimate
night of our Indaba. Knowing the plan to spend the last night at the Mindil
Market in Darwin, George and Lea decided that although their planned ‘dinner’
had gone awry this night was their best
opportunity to mark their “Golden anniversary” with the family. Presenting couples with a keepsake – stones chosen along
our route that George had decorated with gold coloured brass shim in a form of
metal work known as repousse art. We were horrified to discover that the
vibrations of the ‘short cut’ from
Kakadu to Litchfield had rubbed many and
caused damage to others. A frantic few moments followed cleaning up the stone
dust to ascertain ‘the choice’ we’d have available for everyone before haring
down the road to the Litchfield Motel. Again, the motel had done themselves proud
providing a table setting most unwittingly, to suit occasion. We set out the
stones amongst the centre piece of green leaves with creamy gold frangipani
blossoms.
The Anniversary Dinner it
became, with the family treating Lea and
George to their meal. Thank you! Another
relaxed and happy night ensued with unanimous decision and the presentation of
the ‘boomerang talking stick’ by Tom to Alison for all her hard work and
absolute caring to ensure everyone had a most wonderful and memorable Indaba.
That she pulled it off was no mean feat.
Lea had left her phone in a vehicle
pocket for over 24 hours. Thankfully being in Batchelor a host of messages had
come in- amongst them a reminder for her long awaited scan on Thursday 12th. Horrors! She had
it on her calendar for the Friday after everyone was at airport departure gate…
The
night ended with the family being given possible routes back to Darwin with a swim-stop at Berry
Springs. We’d all meet up as they booked into their hotel at 2 pm. for a
last night.
Thursday 12th
Lea and George were away early to
hopefully book into Oasis Caravan Park early enough to unhitch before
Lea’s 13.20 – ultra sound and x-ray to
her right arm to ascertain whether she had a frozen shoulder. The journey from
Litchfield was covered in good time with an hour wait at the gate. The folk on our booked site had delayed their departure at the regulatory 10
a.m. Never-the-less, despite all the
hiccoughs we were soon settled. A message from Cousin Alison advised the clan were
now at Oasis visiting Mike and Alison Bryan. With half an hour to spare we joined the mob
in the far corner of the caravan park.
All had enjoyed a delightful
morning at Berry Springs in the ‘hot’
springs which threw us… we have never been in warm water there!
Andrew had withdrawn from the chatter and was quietly sketching the Bryan rig…
Time on our side yet again, we were outside Darwin
Radiography early and Lea processed quickly. The thought of waiting almost an
hour outside the hotel in the heat had us decide to jump the gun and relax down
in the Museum/Art gallery garden and enjoy the shady trees and Timor sea
views. We took a long favoured walk
along the Fairweather pathway in the direction of the Darwin Ski Club overlooking
the sea. We couldn’t resist going in for
lunch there. Utterly perfect – as gentle
sea breezes kept us cool and white Ibis with a marauding tendency to jump on tables rattling crockery
as they checked for lunch remnants, entertained us. All would fly after the
lucky individual and try and grab the prize.
Once done, they would fly over the security fence to the swimming pool
and have a drink. This little routine
was eventually curtailed when children insisted on chasing them at any
opportunity which eventually drove them.
Plans had changed back at headquarters. The Museum / Art Gallery was no
longer on the agenda in preference to a siesta. Instead we would all meet at
Mindil Market.
With time to spare we walked Fairweather path
towards Mindil Beach. Seeing it was already busy we returned to SKV and drove to the beach to ensure we’d have a park
as free of congestion as possible. This is a vibrant Sunset Market held Thursday and Sunday
evenings throughout the Dry. An iconic Darwin
activity with numerous food stalls , particularly Asian
styles thanks to the cosmopolitan mixture of people living in the Top End. It can become very busy with barely room to
move as folk queue for their food and
descend onto the beach for the setting of the sun. We had commandeered a wall to sit on as a
good land mark for finding each other amongst the growing bottlenecks occurring.
The sun beating down – didn’t help and
our clan had missed lunch, The smell of
food was a lure to many taste buds. At the Mindil markets George and Rob came
across a stall selling Zebra Rock; run by Jim Yuncken who creates jewellery in
a small workshop in Batchelor. He threw new light on our Zebra Rock story by
referring to the Ranford Formation of the East Kimberley; the faults of
welded displaced fractures and fossilized plant material evident in its primordial
forms; and offered the idea that the banding is formed by the rhythmic
precipitation of iron oxide rich bands during the alteration of the rock by percolating
fluids (migrating through the rock) … and that Zebra rock, typifying the colour
and spirit of Australia as it does, brings ”good luck”!
Two hours later, the discomfort
and crowds were enough to consider a
change. George suggested the nearby Ski
Club.
Tim and Les bumped into friends
and they were happy to have the full Mindil Market Sunset experience.
George, Lea and Rob departed
immediately to ensure a table for everyone at the Ski Club. While Alison began the slow process of
gathering up the numbers, helped by her friend
and work colleague from South African, living in Darwin, Shanta
Vadeveer. Some took the glorious walk
along the beach front to meet us at the
Ski Club.
Chattering on,
many were reluctant to have those last
goodbyes while others were aware of the awful long-haul flights ahead of them.
Eventually all the hugs and tears of this very special Indaba were about done.
Pene penned the final
word beautifully although Lea has taken the liberty of changing the last line
to make it all encompassing …
“Great memories and such a joy to have a taste of our
youthful pleasures! Feeling nostalgic already. Thanks All for making it so
precious. Our salute to the most
inexhaustible Alison for convening a dream.”
In the words of songwriters Leo Robin and Ralph Rainger – a signature tune so part of growing up with RBC
in Rhodesia… makes it all the more fitting to finish with
“THANKS FOR THE MEMORIES..
Awfully glad I met you
Cheerio
and toodle do
Thank you Thank you so much "
Until the next time….
Friday 13th July
A “bad omen” day for George! Always wary of travelling even 51 years after his shooting accident –
we left the Family members to depart from Darwin by air in a gentle rhythm of
their own. We saw to our laundry and
prepared for our next leg towards Cairns
until evening, We had a dinner date at YOTS (a Greek restaurant down in Cullen
Bay with Barbara Tapsell (ex-Jabiru School, Aboriginal / Torres Islanders
liaison officer who worked closely with Lea ) and husband Tony (CEO, Local
Govt. Association, ex-Jabiru council).
A beautiful night on the edge of
the bay catching up…
Next day, Lea had her appointment
with the Coolalinga doctor for the results of her scan/x-ray which turned out to be tears in her arm muscle
and not a frozen shoulder. Thankfully no surgery required just time required to
heal. An on-site caravan repairer was able to replace a broken catch on our awning
slide and we joined Mike Bryan, animal sitting Dr Ben the dog, and Indi the
ginger cat, for sundowners at their caravan site. George
with the aid of Mike’s Camps Australia gave him info on their impending
trip southwards into WA. His wife Alison had gone into the city for a John
Farnham concert.
We left Oasis after our three
nights booked there and returned to Coomalie RV Park, 80km east of Darwin. Things got off to a bad start soon after
departure - when George decided the
solar panels on the truck were not charging, as he could see no light. Being a
Sunday, with no chance of an auto electrician he pulled into the Coolalinga Caravan
Park, a mere few kilometres on to ensure
the truck could visit an auto-electrician first up, next morning. No sooner had we arrived on our new caravan
site than he noticed the charging light was
on again. All was well; he returned to the office to request a refund and
depart. Days later he was to discover that he’d left his credit card behind in
the office!
Back on the road again. We took a
powered site at Coomalie RV Park. Lea had intended to do some baking for the
road ahead. Instead we discovered our ‘newly
treasured’ convection oven had given up the ghost. Power light on but no heat indicator.
First hint of trouble came the previous evening while making a casserole.
George could find no problem to solve. No more baking was a sorry thought! Towards evening we took a walk around the
park and came across large numbers of forlorn looking cattle in holding pens
(awaiting export to Indonesia?) The long curious stares left us feeling very
sorry for them. No TV, we watched Jack
Absalom’s films about King Island and West Tasmania.
On our way to Pine Creek we took
a tea break at Bridge Creek and decided to take a short detour (on gravel) to
visit the historic, heritage listed Grove Hill Hotel (built in 1934) we’d read
about but not seen. “Home of the biggest
gold nugget” it is one of the true blue outback pubs built from recycled
materials and a tribute to bush ingenuity. It was little more than a steel
frame, corrugated iron clad shed surrounded by the most intriguing, rusty
assemblage of old vehicles (one, an old Holden, with a tree growing through the
shattered windscreen), a pub reported to have the coldest beer in Australia and
a dark, dinghy museum filled with relics of a mining era long gone by.
We considered camping at Grove
Hill only for George to be put off by
the rather grumpy, unwelcoming owner, as well as the unattractive, un-kempt
“campground” available at $30 for a powered site and $20 for an unpowered site.
It simply wasn’t worth it and we pushed
on to Pine Creek as planned and stopped at Lazy Lizard with all amenities for
less. Although we recall spending a
night camped in a Bird Park on the edge of Pine Creek back in 2000, this is a town we generally pass through without so much
as a backward glance. Pine Creek excelled itself this time, as our evening walk
took us through a well-watered park with sets of illustrated tiles along the
pathway providing a history of the town
by school children. Spoilt only by a ‘Sophie’ and her need to graffiti her name
and love life across some art works. In other instances, recorded Aboriginal
history had angered someone into very roughly and deliberately chipping it away plus
destroying the heads of some totem
animals. The path led into the railway museum precinct followed by a Miners Park with an impressive
outdoor collection of mining equipment from stamp batteries to horse powered
milling machines; posters concerning the history of gold, galena (tin) and
copper mining in the area; information on the whereabouts of uranium mines in
the South Alligator region; stories of the rise and fall of many mining ventures
in the area and the role of Chinese
people so part and parcel of life there.
From Pine Creek we moved Manbulloo
Homestead CP outside Katherine for a night and relaxed for the rest of our day.
That evening, the songs of a young folk / blues singer- Jessey Jackson entertained an appreciative
throng of travellers for a couple of
hours, not far from where we were parked.
Rather than continue to take the Stuart
Highway we were bent on taking new roads, particularly drawn to those of
historical significance. We retraced our steps from Manbulloo Station onto the
Victoria highway as far as the small 24-hour Rest facility on a border of Mathison
cattle station which placed us within easy reach of the Buntine highway. Next
day we pulled into the memorial to Noel Buntine. The monstrous rock at the
Buntine/ Victoria Highways junction had a small plaque embedded in the rock giving
the official opening details - nothing on Noel Buntine.
We had to wait until we reached
Top Springs to learn more. The Buntine highway proved to be a marvellous road –
much of it a single lane highway, badly worn in places with sharp drop offs,
but a joy to travel nevertheless; lightly trafficked and, best of all, not
another caravan to be seen! Originally known as the Delaware Road, it passed through
large cattle stations- Delaware and Killarney. Both impressed George for their well-managed grazing
land. Quite unlike the charred condition of the woodlands in Kakadu, here the
grasses and saplings in the understorey had been allowed to flourish instead of
being constantly suppressed by fire. Elsewhere, the masses of pinnacle shaped
termite mounds served as a reminder of the important role termites
inconspicuously play in the recycling of nutrients in such a landscape. They
are indeed the silent, miniature mega-herbivores of the Australian outback that
so many people tend to overlook or regard as “pests”.
30 km from Top Springs the
vegetation and colour of the soils alongside the road begin to change. The
eucalypt woodlands came to an end, replaced by open grasslands in which what
woody vegetation occurred was not only more stunted but also sparsely
distributed. It was to be expected as we
entered the northernmost limits of the Tanami desert. At the crossroads of the Buntine and Buchanan
Highway was Top Springs. An Inn
fittingly named Wanda Inn with outbuildings set in an invitingly green oasis in
the middle of the outback; contained a service station with large forecourt for
the cattle trucks, the inevitable very large
pub and a small campground at the back. All very pleasing. The original Top
Springs Hotel, established alongside Armstrong Creek in 1950, was developed by Sid and Thelma Hawks as a
store and pub on the Buchanan stock route. It moved to its present site at the
junction of the Buntine and Buchanan highways in 1963 to serve surrounding
cattle stations and is an important land mark for travellers in this part of
the Territory.
Top Springs hotel
A framed newspaper article in the
pub filled us in on Noel Buntine; a Stockman’s Hall of Fame character, born
1927 and died in 1994. In the course of his life he built one of the world’s
biggest livestock transport empires, opening up so-called “beef roads” across
the Territory’s major stations to revolutionise the cattle transport industry.
Noel’s company, known as Buntine Roadways, was based in Katherine. He started
the company after the owner of a Longreach cattle station gave him a contract
to cart cattle to Wyndham. In the off-season he’d cart various forms of freight
from Alice Springs to virtually any destination in the Northern Territory. He took
an active interest in everything from horse racing to serving on the Pastoral
Land Board. Apparently the only people Noel didn’t trust were fishermen … why,
because he’d learnt that they wouldn’t turn up for work if the fish were
biting!
We thought we’d be the only
campground occupants yet as the sun set in an array of gradually improving and
magnificent images that had us both bouncing up and down with our cameras -
three other caravans and two roof top vehicles drew in and joined the photographic frenzy!
An old couple from Queensland parked
beside us. That day they had come down the Buchanan and driven a further 170km
south on the Buntine road to the Aboriginal settlement of Kalkarindji (formerly
Wave Hill) in the hopes of seeing Wave Rock! Much
to George’s amusement, they had mistaken the name for the ‘Wave Rock’ they had
heard so much about, in Western Australia! The 340 km return journey incurring a punctured tyre, was not one they wished
to repeat! Wave Hill has its place in history. In 1966 Aboriginal stockmen and
their families protested on the poor conditions meted out to them on Wave Hill
Station; in turn, demanding ownership of their traditional land. Thus, Wave
Hill became the site of the first land rights claim. By 1986 Land Rights pioneer, Vincent Lingiari, successfully saw the formal
ownership of land being granted to his Aboriginal group of people for the first
time.
From the historic Trucker’s road we
took to the legendary Drover’s road - the unsealed Buchanan highway. This
remarkably good road of compacted gravel was once a stock route named after
drover Nathaniel (Bluey) Buchanan, as part of the Murranji Track running
eastwards from the Victoria River basin. We were on a 180 km easterly run from
Top Springs to the Stuart highway. This
route also forms part of what is known as Binns
Track. Bill Binns having been a long serving ranger with the Parks and
Wildlife Commission responsible for the development of many tracks in Central
Australia and Northern Territory, most notably those in nearby Gregory National
Park. May 2014, we had followed another part
of Binns Track travelling east of Alice
Springs (in the Arltunga region) so we were only too pleased to be following
more of his track.
The Buchanan highway passes
through some of the best pastoral regions of Australia in the upper reaches of
the Victoria River Basin. The Sturt Plateau over which much of the road passes
is harsh country covered by a mixed eucalyptus / acacia woodland in which dense
stands of tall lancewood trees (Acacia
sherleyi) are the most conspicuous. In places even thorn-bushes (A. nilotica, from South Africa!) were
evident and occasionally the grass Spinifex
also put in an appearance. As we drove we tried to imagine what it was like
to be a drover slowly shifting thousands of head of cattle through the
waterless bush. In several places, signs indicated the whereabouts of bores
which we assumed had been their saving grace. In high heat and humidity, having
to contend with aridity, floods and stampedes - left us full of admiration for the
sheer determination and endurance of hardy teams of men involved in the
movement of cattle to northern Australia’s far flung railheads and markets from
pioneer days through to the late 1960’s when, according to Malcolm Gordon, in
his marvellous book Surviving the Outback
(published in 1989) between 50 – 70 000 cattle were brought down this
particular stock route, each year by Drovers!
120km from Top Springs, we crossed
the Ghan railway. Having driven for over three hours, we decided to call a halt
for the day by pulling into the bush on the far edge of a truck stop, within
sight of the Stuart Highway. The only casualty of the day – the outside vent
panel behind the fridge had fallen off. Its replacement, an old bit old
cardboard lying in the back of Skiv, taped on, bush mechanic style.
Over the past 12 years of
travelling Australia one particular section of the Stuart Highway, 340km in
length, between Daly Waters and Tennant Creek has managed to elude us thus far!
Knowing this, we deliberately travelled to Top Springs to come out at this
particular section of the Stuart Highway and finally see what it had to offer.
It fitted beautifully into our “cattle drover’s mode”, as the historic droving
township of Newcastle Waters at the intersection of the Barkly and Murranji
stock routes, lay 80 km south of where we had camped. The early 1960s began to toll the bell for
this town and when it died, itinerant
Aboriginal families used the buildings. In 1983, Newcastle Waters Station (established
in mid 1880s) restored the group of houses, for their married staff, as the
homestead was close by.
When we arrived, after crossing
Newcastle Creek on the long raised embankment known as the George Redmond
Crossing, we could hardly believe our eyes – there was one of the most
beautiful, bird filled stretches of water we have seen for a long time. Full of
ducks, pelicans, black swans, egrets, ibis and more. Discovered in 1861 by
Stuart and his companions it had been named the Glandfield Lagoon. Later changed
to Newcastle Water to honour the Duke of Newcastle. The remnants of the little old town
backed onto the Drovers Memorial Park;
the skeletal remains of the church, Junction Hotel (built in 1932) as well as
Arnold Jones’s general store with all its memorabilia. Including information on
the pilgrimage that took place at Newcastle Waters, attended by 3000 people
after the Last Great Cattle Drive from Newcastle Waters to Longreach. A 2000 km
journey with 1700 cattle under the control of the “boss drover” Pic Willets,
was too good to be true. Outside the
general store, the old hand operated, glass topped petrol pumps were another
great find. The breeze blew an atmospheric tune of decay rattling loose
corrugated iron and seed pods in the trees lining the single road. A mere handful of
houses and a little school showed the only signs of being going concerns.
The following extract from And Yet Sometimes by Bruce Forbes Simpson (age 21) ex Murranji Track drover, said it all:
“There is bitumen now where the big diesels roll and dead men grow
lonely by Murranji Hole. Now the shy curlews wail and their sad chorus swells
as though missing the music of the Condamine Bells...”
In addition, a memoir (dd
1940-1967) hand written by an old boss drover called C Pankhurst read:
“Between 1944 and 1959 record details are unavailable. However, 1500
head were shifted each year with the
exception of 1956 when 10 000 head were shifted between four plants I had
operating at the time. Those years totalling 31 000 head. The list following is
figures backed up by actual contracts and diaries in my possession. During this
period 2 years of which I had off droving, was contract mustering for King
Ranch Brunette Downs. Total movement of a life time droving in the Northern Territory
covering an untold number of miles was 53 480 head. In 1968 I gave up my
droving career and entered a new life style forced on me by the advent of
modern transport and hung up my riding boots”.
So ended the life style of many
others … the closing of one door leading to the opening of another. Enter Mr
Noel Buntine and his livestock transport empire!
Our next objective was to visit
the Lake Woods Conservation Covenant (Lake Woods being another watering hole
along the stock route) Eggy Boggs had mentioned it years ago as a place to
visit. Much to our disappointment, we were unable to locate any unmarked track off
the Stuart Highway. Instead we pushed on … and on… and on … took a lunch break
in Renner Springs and decided the price and conditions there had no appeal. Wearily,
headed set off for Banka Banka Station and its recommended campground. It was
another disappointment – not only very close to the road being steadily parked into place by a man on
a quad – no choice not to mention a far from welcoming woman taking the $20
notes at the entrance. We took one look at it all and left… Heading further
down the highway with no laybys to be seen until a brown site of interest sign came on
the horizon. We slowed and turned onto the old Stuart Highway, to see what Churchill’s
Head was about. We were near the end of our tethers after covering 290 km. The very quiet road brought
perfect relief presenting a campsite going for free within a narrow valley. A mast on top of the hill to
the east of us gave us a good walk at evening time and on the crest of the next
set of hills beyond, the Stuart Highway bringing
road train noise to penetrate our quiet spot during the night.
No reason to move on we decided to rest up for another day. Tidy
up the van, do a bit of brass shim artwork, some writing and generally “chill
out” as they say. In reality it was more
of a “chill in” because the hordes of tiny bush flies outside.
Towards evening a Land Cruiser
towing a camper-trailer pulled in, not far from us. Shortly after Sue arrived
to inspect her neighbours before settling in for the night. There was an
instant rapport and George promptly asked how she had found this
bush camp? So much for Camps Australia being the authoritative camp book in our minds… Sue had been directed
by Wikicamps! She invited us over for a drink once she had set up camp. Many
similarities and interests arose through our non-stop conversations beside the glow of a fire. Sue Phillips and her husband took to the road
18 months ago after he was retrenched.
However, he was soon recalled for short duration consulting work – which is
where he was as we chatted. Time fled
and the cold night air and the dying fire sent us packing very
reluctantly . A kindred spirit unexpectedly found at Churchill’s Head beside
the semi-abandoned remains of old Stuart highway! We felt enriched by the find
and trust we meet again along the road.
Back to the new Stuart Highway, with
a brief stop at Attack Creek (our original destination before the unfathomably
named Churchill’s Head, thankfully
intervened) to see reason for its name. 1860 – Explorer Stuart and his companions were
attacked by natives here and, illness
had forced the party to turn back. A lasting memory of the Stuart Highway, just
travelled, will be the hundreds of termite mounds - travellers have seen fit to
dress in all sorts of clothes. At odd times causing a fleeting lurch of heart
seeing ‘a child’ abandoned below a bush in tee-shirt and cap!
At the Three-ways roadhouse, very
active with caravans, road trains and people filling up with fuel, we finally
turned eastwards onto the Tablelands Highway and began heading towards Mt Isa,
which at our rate of travel we estimated lay 4 days away. Apart from the lone
Australian Bustard seen, the Barkly Tablelands has always been an uninteresting
bit of countryside to pass through, the highway dead straight with each
kilometre and the bordering acacia scrub unchanging. so seemingly endless that,
with the drone of the engine, it is all too easy to fall asleep! There were
road signs advising one to “pull over if sleepy” hence we stopped twice, before
finally dropping anchors at Frewina where, behind the rest area a large, flat
treeless plain with several nomads already camped there gave us a place for the
night. No sign of animal tracks nor any road
kill on the highway and, other than a few galahs and ever present black ravens
beyond our caravan, a faunal desert to be sure!
Another two and a half hours of
monotony, apart from crossing the divide of the Lake Eyre basin, we pulled into
the Soudan Bore rest area c. 120km from the Queensland border, followed a small
track that led into in the bush behind the rest area and “pitched camp” for the
day. The only excitement of the day
being a tabby feral cat sneaking past our front door, having one look at us
before silently disappearing into the scrub. From the Soudan bore came a marked
transition in vegetation and scenery from scrublands to short, open grasslands
– vast plains which apart from the occasional tree lined creek, extended
seamlessly into Queensland. By morning
tea we were happily parked in a free-campground overlooking a large, shallow
billabong on the Georgina river outside Camooweal. Its muddy margins severely
ploughed up by feral pigs in their search for waterlily corms and the roots of
aquatic plants. Without delay, a pair of
mud larks took immediate exception to the sight of themselves in the wing
mirrors of the truck and aggressively fought off these usurpers. Outside our
front door, white necked / faced herons
stealthily high stepped through the water moving up and down the edges of the
billabong, in search of fish.
Georgina Billabong …
Evening exercise took us further
up the Georgina River and found caravans lining the bank cheek by jowl and most
amazingly, brolga daintily lifting their feet out in the water as they searched
for easy pickings- totally unconcerned about the camping fraternity a few metres away. As night fell we heard their hoarse staccato croaks as they took off for the adjoining grasslands.
We last refilled water tanks at
Coomalie Creek, after leaving Darwin. After eight days in bush camps, our tanks
are finally dry making us reliant upon our emergency supply containers for tonight. Mt Isa, as our next stop will be timely for replenishment
of fresh food and water. We were in Mt Isa by midday and were lucky enough to
be given a 5000km oil change on SKV two hours later. Killing time, George spent an interesting hour at the visitor’s
centre looking around the display provided by MIM (Mt Isa Mines) the largest
mine in Australia (Fraser Mine - 3km in length, 2km wide, 1.5km deep), the
largest producer of copper, lead, zinc and silver. A 3D model showed the
incredible labyrinth of underground workings in relation to the ore deposits
was perhaps, the most interesting of all. While stocking up on groceries husband
found a new convection oven!
Although we were done in Mt Isa –
George had his mind on the convection oven so we stayed another day for Lea to
bake. Once the containers were full we drove out to Lake Moondarra, Mt Isa’s
water supply, and came away very impressed by a magnificent cycle path that led
there! It was an attractive dam set into
rocky hills with good bird life, and picnic grounds.
Built in 1958, originally known
as Leichhardt Dam, surface area 2600 ha; catchment area 111 000ha; depth 11m;
capacity 107 gigalitres)
We’d planned on spending a few
days at Lake Corella, half way between Mt Isa and Cloncurry, only to find the
place jammed packed with caravans, possibly 100 or more, we left in disgust. It
was a ticked site in our Camps Australia and, in the Wanderer magazine it had
been singled out as one of the best. Sometimes, by deliberately drawing
attention to such sites, bestows a kiss of death upon it! Finding nothing in Cloncurry apart from a spot
under the bridge over the Cloncurry River we had an early lunch and decided to
head north towards Normanton along the Burke Development road …The road seemed
unusually busy with Utes heading somewhere… Passing the historic Quamby Hotel
we were soon to find out… The Quamby Rodeo
was in full swing! Thousands of people camping all over the place with swags on
the ground, cattle trucks, horse floats, police cars, ambulances, everyone in
cowboy dress (jeans and ten gallon hats), loud-speakers and music blaring, and
judging from the amount of litter - the beer was flowing.
Needless to say it did not take
us long to decide to attend our third Rodeo – this time a Queensland Rodeo.
Took an about turn at the next possible place and entered the rodeo grounds. Found
a camp spot well away from central noise and activity and spent the rest of the
afternoon watching the prowess of cowboys as they tried to stay the time on the
backs of bulls, bucking broncos or chasing down steers – George’s camera working
overtime up at the fence. His nerve of steel coming to the fore on odd
occasions as out of control horses careered his way, threatening to crush
him or sending dust and dirt flying in
his face. Thanks to impulsive - a
wonderfully enjoyable night.
Light rain fell during the night
bringing overcast weather for a change. We departed Quamby amidst slumbering cowboys in swags beside their
trucks or out for the count on the top of their Ute-trays; a few bleary eyed blokes
staggered around while women made breakfast. We made for the Terry Smith
Lookout, barely 30km on. On discovering we had signal here we decided to stay
and complete our July blog - a mammoth task this month! We had the place to ourselves
until late afternoon.
Bang Bang Rest Area was our next
destination. Somehow George’s recall didn’t match up and we didn’t pull up in
time for the turn off due to the sight
that met our eyes. A busy conglomeration of travellers with a bull dozer to the northside working noisily…. Definitely
not for us. Yet on our side of the road - tracks led into the bush. George went
to inspect. Perfect, despite the carrying sound of the bulldozer alarm peeps! We parked and enjoyed…
We needed fuel before heading
east and popped into Normanton, at the base of the Gulf of Carpentaria. We had signal too. As we pulled out of town “a will we – won’t we?” moment had us
wonder about staying to post the blog. A caravan park appeared and settled the
question.
