A bucket list destination that Covid surprisingly provided us the opportunity to GO, when our daughter forwarded a Newsletter to us in Broome, where we’d been waiting for the border to open between Western Australia and the Northern Territory. Immediately, we tried to find Broome flights and ended up changing our plans, setting the ball rolling in a new direction!
Tuesday, 8th Dec. found us winging our way across
the Indian Ocean towards a tiny speck of an island known as Christmas Island, 2
500km from Perth. The island is all that remains of a dormant volcano, a
seamount, that rose from the bed of the ocean 60 million years ago. Lying in
the pathway of ocean currents that flow from the west Pacific, until people
arrived in 1890, it was gradually colonised by all sorts of plants and animals
that drifted there. One of the most impressive of these is the endemic Red
Crab, millions of which emerge from the rainforests once a year to release
their eggs into the sea. Described by
David Attenborough as ‘’one of the world’s greatest wonders’’ it was the
spectacle of the red crab migration that drew us there.
A flight delay of 2 hours had occurred in Perth due to
cyclonic weather crossing Christmas Islands. We knew we were back in the
tropics where warm, humid monsoonal weather was making itself felt. The plane
began bouncing around in the thick mass of clouds that enveloped us and
remained so low, we only caught our first glimpse of an ocean surface covered
in ‘’white horses’’ through rain, as we came in to land. Our sense of arrival rather gloomy and not
made any easier by the ‘chaos’ outside the little airport with a plane full of
passengers all milling around waiting to be picked up or queuing for their hire
cars. We had booked a two-week package
tour of Christmas and Cocos Keeling Islands that included flights, accommodation,
and car hire on both islands. Only to hear in early September, no car was available
for us on Christmas Island and advised we were on a wait list with the hopes
more cars would arrive by November. Two
days before departure – with no confirmation of a car; Lea wrote to check how
we’d get from airport to accommodation with no taxi service! We were advised
we’d be collected. Begg nowhere to be
seen on any of the many signs being held up. We were left confused and more
than a little anxious. A young girl from
Dampier overheard our conversation and kindly offered us a lift in her hire
car. With no idea where destinations were, Lea approached Visitor
Information for a map. There, a most helpful Malay girl from the Visitors
Centre took us in hand, showed us to a seat and began to solve our
problem. We ended up being taken to a Toyota
Hilux, with map. Signed no papers just requested to call in at the Visitors
Centre any time next day to sort out paperwork.
Finding our way in the rain to our accommodation, the VQ3
Lodge, with darkness falling, was a rather nerve-racking experience. The roads lined
by thick forest, steep declines down to the Settlement and poor signage.
Unable to see reception, a kindly bloke told us where a list gave a room number, open and waiting for us – thankfully right in front of where we’d parked! Outside our room a Christmas Island Crab was waiting to greet us. We were delighted with our ensuite room and charmed by crabs scrabbling past our door!
The timing of this event is absolutely critical! The crabs only release their eggs before dawn on a receding high tide at a particular phase of the moon. Together with a lot of other people carrying torches, we walked down the beach road towards Flying Fish Cove jetty, as instructed. Watching our footfall as these red creatures appeared to tiptoe on their claws across the road and down the walls onto the beach with little regard to people.
It was difficult trying to maintain balance on the coral
fragmented beach, teeming with crabs seen in brief moments of light thrown from
torches. As soon as Lea found a wall she could perch upon, she warily watched
crabs descend from above her – follow her section of seating before the final
descent to the beach. No aggression and
certainly unconcerned by anything that lay in their pathway.
Crabs, all of them gravid females, congregated everywhere – each carrying a conspicuous black mass of eggs beneath their abdomen, crawling across the road, crawling down the walls of the foreshore, crawling across the beach, making their way into the swash zone.
Once in the swash zone, crabs raised their pincers into the air, resembling a Scotsman doing a highland fling before shimmying in spectacular fashion. The shudder and shake of bodies released their eggs into the water. We subsequently learnt that on contact with seawater the eggs hatch almost immediately, turn into larvae which grow for over a month, then wash ashore; moult; and become small air-breathing crabs.
In the full light of day, still dodging crabs moving in all directions,
we found we were beautifully central in The Settlement. The Visitor Centre
close by and despite being weak with hunger we stopped in to nervously explain
our package had included a hired car and therefore our Tour Director in Perth
was responsible for the payment. Their kindness and trust were a relief and
they directed us up the mountainside to Poon Saan for much needed brunch at Smash
Expresso Bar.
The tenement blocks caught us by surprise until we learned the Poon Saan was a Chinese dominated residential area on the crest of the island.
The main arterial road from the airport through to the little townships remained open and crab dodging was involved whether driving or walking. While in Harare, last year, the high incidence of potholes resulted in an erratic way of driving, swerving from one side of the road to the other. Humour had it that only the drunk drove straight. Here on Christmas Island, with far fewer cars out on the road it seemed drivers were drunk! Over the duration of the mass migration on Christmas Island, crab avoidance was serious business. Advice given to drive with a rake in the back of the car to assist passage without crushing crabs. We didn’t see any rakes! Feeling human again after food in our belly, we made for Dolly Beach. The Tourist Centre had told us that we could drive as far as the roadblocks, leave our vehicle on the side of the road, and walk in… We arrived at the access road to Dolly Beach and found the track barely looked used as forest encroached. As we slowly travelled it, we found it in an eroded condition as it descended down the mountainside. We felt distinctly nervous and certainly didn’t want to get lost or have a problem out here with no phone contact and nobody aware of where we were. On a positive note, perhaps, that was why four-wheel drive vehicles were provided as hire vehicles! However, with no information on distance and the road becoming worse we decided we must be on the wrong access for a top recommended site and managed to turn back…
Further along we found the Blow Holes turn off and followed
the road until we reached our first road closure barrier. Parked and set off under cloudy skies.
A brief description about the structure of Christmas Island may be appropriate here because when it comes to walking it is important to realise that rather like a wedding cake the 360m high island assumes a tiered form, with each tier (or terrace) reflecting past periods of subsidence and uplifts, the most recent of these having occurred about 10 million years ago. Between each so-called ‘’stand still’’ period coral reefs had grown around the basalt core of the island and over time, a thick layer of limestone developed over its surface as a result. The near vertical, cliff-like, jagged nature of coastline is yet another consequence of the island’s geological structure.
The track that led to the Blowholes was the first of the unforgettable 3km long walk we undertook down to the coast. Unforgettable, not only because of the density and composition of the forests on either side of the track containing masses of tall screw palms and lantern fruit trees, with their fascinating waxy lantern like fruits lying like small pumpkins on the forest floor.
The deep booming sound of the Imperial Pigeons (another endemic species) could be heard in the canopy of the trees above. And, needless to say, the absolute masses of red crabs, we gingerly picked our way through. Quite the most amazing experience, almost more extraordinary, than the ‘’ spawning’’ event we’d just witnessed that morning.
With the walking track steadily descending, steeply in places
where the edge of each terrace was encountered, we eventually reached the
ocean, the sound of the wave driven blowholes we’d come to see, apparent from
afar. Each blowing and blasting water into the air like a host of demented blue
whales.
Sitting on the boardwalk out to the blowholes, looking like a carving - a brown booby preening and stretching its wings. Completely unperturbed by our presence. We were able to sit on a bench and slide ever closer it even allowed George to touch its bill!
Our first encounter with the dense thickets of cabbage trees (Scaevola sp.) growing among the jagged pinnacles of limestone that characterise the cliffs along the shore. All covered in red crabs.
Monster like noises erupted without anticipation!
Not unexpectedly, it was a long, hot arduous climb back up
the track we’d walked down earlier. Pouring with sweat we were only too glad to
get back to the truck and have a drink of water. We’d had gained an
understanding of Christmas Island terrain! A wrong turning back on the main road had us meet
a huge Robber Crab (aka Coconut Crab) in the middle of the dirt road.
The size of a football, it is the largest land crab in the world.
We both leapt out of the car, but it was not as accommodating
as the red crabs and shot under the truck, waving its long antennae in alarm.
Just before it disappeared into the jungle, George was able to get a close up of its colours. Believe it or not, the Robber is a member of the hermit crab family!
We turned back as the Murray round route back to Settlement via
Drumsite was closed. we called in at Settlement supermarket to buy milk and
check out food sources there. Everything
has to be brought in from the mainland and prices were understandably high for
fresh food in particular; fresh milk was unobtainable and fruit prohibitively
expensive. The net result, we settled on having cheese and biscuits, and cereal
we had brought from Perth for dinner, washed down with a can of cold beer – chilled
and well priced at $2.50.
CRABS on the corridor outside rooms!
Settled in for an early night aware we wanted to be on the move early the next morning – no later than 4.30am hoping to see more red crabs congregating on Ethel beach (a small pocket beach on the eastern side of the island).
Hitchcock’s fearful ‘Birds’ had nothing on this crab noisily trying to get in ….
We were awake and away around 4a.m and headed down on down
our road towards the Golf Club dodging crabs in the headlights. Soon after the
Golf Club driveway we came to a barrier - no vehicles parked on the side of the
road we sat and wondered how far we’d need to walk in the dark. With no other people we decided to turn back
and go to Flying Fish Cove backed by Kampong residential flats and a mosque
Kampong’s free ranging domestic chickens reaped the benefits of mutilated remains of crushed crabs.
The care and detail that went into providing a freshly cooked Champagne Breakfast in a beautiful left us all very appreciative.
We met up with Leanne from Dampier, the kind-hearted girl
who’d offered us a lift out at the airport and chatted to her. During breakfast
George noticed the logo on the sleeve of a Guide with a tropicbird and enquired
about finding them (also known as bosun birds). He could scarcely believe, when she took George over to the hollow of a well battered, old box tree, not
5m away from the table.
And sure enough, there it was – a tiny ball of fluff. The
chick of a red-tailed tropicbird, patiently waiting to be fed by one of its
parents.
We’d noticed the flowers of the box trees (Barringtonia
asiatica) that grow on the edge of Flying Fish Cove, lying on the ground and
subsequently learnt that like the sausage trees of Africa, this coastal tree
also has nocturnal flowers. The flower buds swell in the afternoon and open in
the evening to expose a mass of stamens that are pollinated by moths.
By dawn the ring of stamens and petals fall to the ground, serving as food for the ever-present land crabs.
With breakfast over George was keen to get
going to the registered Ramsar wetland site on the west coast, about 20 km
away- The Dales. By now
we’d discovered that Christmas Island, is only 135 km² in size, in the shape of a Scotty Dog – so with reference to
the map below we were, in effect, going to be travelling from Settlement (on
the top of its head) down towards its back leg! It is in this region that the
Christmas Island detention Centre for the housing of asylum seekers was
established by the Australian government in 2004.
At the Road Barrier we prepared for a hot day and another long descent through rainforest down to the coast, carefully stepping around, or over, the myriads of red crabs on the way.
Tiptoeing through the tulips…
Amongst all the red crabs we encountered a lot more robber crabs and upon nearing the wetland proper came across the first of the endemic blue crabs. They were much larger than the red crabs and had far more robust claws.
Once we’d reached the
lowermost of the limestone terraces in this region of the island, we came
across a lot more of the blue crabs whilst we followed a boardwalk that led to the
first of the waterfalls - Hugh’s Dale waterfall. Although not carrying a large
amount of water the waterfall is regarded as very unusual because it has been
formed by the deposition of calcium carbonate (or tufa).
The Chinese population on
the island regard the waterfall as the ‘’centre of the Earth’s water
universe’’.
We were reminded of the ‘’cotton castles’’ formed by the calcium carbonate rich springs we’d seen in Turkey.
Surrounded by trees draped in strangler figs and tall Tahitian chestnuts with fluted trunks, the masters of Feng Shui consider the waterfall to be one of the most spiritual places anywhere in the world!
In hot and very humid
conditions, we were faced with the long climb back to where we had parked the
truck, stopping periodically to catch our breath, and carefully stepping over
zillions of crabs, sometimes, George would be easily distracted and inadvertently
step on one or, while stepping carefully with one foot the other would drag a
crab with him. Lea was glad of her stick on this trip and used it to warn off
crabs anywhere near her feet. It was a nightmare trip back to the truck.
George’s shirt dripping wet and Lea feeling ready to die from the climb upwards
on slippery gravel stones in places.
After a well-deserved rest back in our room, and once the day
had cooled down, we took a drive along Golf Course Road to see if we could gain
access to Ethel Beach.
These life buoys made us very curious as they stood by the roadside. The chances of getting help to those in peril - through impenetrable dense thickets between road and coast was beyond us.
Thwarted a second time
we returned and suddenly noticed the leaf covered sign to ‘’the Grotto’’. A
short pathway from the road. An
unexpected and remarkable feature of the island consisting of a tidal pool on
the floor of a limestone cave. Crystal clear water, floored by white sand,
clusters of red crabs around the edge and large fish, black in colour, swimming
around. The sound of the waves surging outside the entrance to the grotto was
similar to that of a blowhole and sufficiently un-nerving to us off any attempt
at swimming! We went back the next morning to see if I’d dropped my hat there.
Without the evening sunlight streaming in, the grotto just didn’t hold the same
magic as the previous day. It just looked dark and dingy!
Local legend has it that the Grotto is home to an ancient sea dragon that swam out from China at the end of the 19th century. When it reached Christmas Island it heard Chinese being spoken and attempted to come ashore but was prevented by the pounding swell and encircling cliffs. After swimming around the island several times, the dragon was exhausted and in desperation swam into the Grotto. It has remained there ever since. The thunderous roars of the dragon we could hear, confirmed it was still there!
On our way back to our Quarters we pulled into a parking lot
opposite the Chinese cemetery. Within seconds of turning in, we were most startled
to see chickens converging on. Running out of the forest from every
direction. In next to no time the truck
was surrounded by “hundreds” of Jungle
Fowls. We soon realised they expected us to have brought food and looking
around noticed plastic takeaway containers on the edge of the car park.
Locals must bring scraps of food here.
That night, we heated up a bag of precooked rice and opened a
tin of sardines a la Nakatopi. A much-enjoyed meal we regularly had with our
family in Mozambique. We now had the hang of feeding ourselves and were to eat
many meals with a variety of tinned fish.
The following day we drove up to the Territory Day Park overlooking Flying
Fish Cove up at Drumsite.
Red-footed boobies and
brown boobies all wheeling about on the updrafts of air.
The graceful flight of both types of tropicbirds – the silver and the golden varieties, each with their beautiful tail streamers wiggling behind them.
It was a place we could easily spend hours watching the
spectacular aerial bird displays
Looking down on the coral reefs that lie on the edge of
Flying Fish Cove (an area locally known as the Garden of Eden) with dark
coloured fish swimming around had George decided that was the place to do some snorkelling.
After lunch he popped down to the cove only to find the swell too great and the
backwash too strong for a person with his limited abilities.
The next lookout we set off to find was Phosphate Hill’s Golf Course Lookout, on the top of the island. We failed, after searching a number of muddy tracks. However, in the process, we obtained an insight into the Island’s phosphate mining operation. The primary reason for settlement of the island.
Phosphate mining has been going on ever since 1897 and,
although much curtailed, it has left a trail of destruction which will remain
for years to come.
From the very beginning, phosphate mining was all done by
hand using labourers brought in from South China and the Malay Straits but by
1948, the demand for phosphate was such that a massive expansion programme took
place with people brought in from Cocos, Malaysia, and Singapore. The museum had
a mass of information concerning the phosphate mining industry with photos and
accounts of the labourers brought onto the island in the early days; the
shocking conditions under which they worked and, in due course, the establishment
of the Union of Christmas Island Workers and their fight for worker’s rights.
We’d been told there was an upper road from Phosphate Hill
down to Ethel Beach – perhaps our third attempt would be lucky. At the road Barrier there appeared to be two ways to go. A
warning of the steep gradient immediately to the left was most disconcerting.
Lily Beach 3km straight ahead seemed the best option. We parked behind a row of
cars and set off. Lea’s legs were soon feeling
the strain of walking downhill. On reaching another sign with three more
kilometres to go. The thought of a return had George’s wife refuse to walk
further. Back we went and just as we
reached the truck the black cloud that had been hovering overhead dropped its
load and we drove back to Poon Saan in heavy rain. All over as we took the
steep road down to Settlement. That
afternoon, with very few crabs evident anywhere, we tried the Golf Course Road
yet again. Eureka – we continued on to Ethel
Beach – the entire journey had us realise how lucky we’d been not to attempted
to walk from either the coastal barrier or the Phosphate Hill barrier. In our
closing days of Christmas Island, we’d finally reached Ethel Beach. With a high
tide running there was very little of the beach to see There are only two boat
ramps giving access out to sea on Christmas Island, Ethel Beach and Flying Fish
Cove. In bad weather and marine emergencies
either place becomes critical. Down on the boat ramp we coincided with a
beautiful moment as a young lad pulled out a beautiful parrot fish.
He was thrilled when Lea asked to take a photo of his catch - a parrot fish!
The eldest son in a delightful family of 4th generation Christmas
Islanders.
His mother Nora, born and bred islander, worked with Parks Australia - told us about the reptiles to be seen at The Pink House and a bird show at Park HQ on a Monday. Equally charming was her husband who’d been playing with his baby daughter in the waves washing up on a minute cove just beyond the ramp.
Nora and her two young sons had landed a good catch of Leatherjackets.
We continued on to Lily Beach. Another very much smaller cove with a picnic shelter toilet and a board walk up and along the coastal margin. There are incredibly few places to get through the fringing jungle and dense thickets of cabbage trees and screw palms on Christmas Island. We delightedly took the steps up to the boardwalk at the side of the cove that led to a lookout toward Ethel Beach. As we walked, George spotted another couple of youngsters fishing off the cliffs and he walked out onto the lethal looking limestone terrace that borders the island. Lea wasn’t prepared to struggle out on the rocks and continued on with alone.
A Highway Robber Crab stopped Lea in her tracks!
While George found the young lads had caught some beautiful
big trevally.
And he came across a brown booby.
Of the 5 to 6000 pairs of Brown Boobies on
Christmas Island there are a colony that nest on the limestone terrace near Lily
Beach amongst the succulents (Sesuvium sp) growing between the rocks.
On our return home, with the sun about to set, we stopped at
the Ma Chor Nui Nui Temple as Lea had spotted a huge spray of water pump into
the air just beyond the Temple on our way to Ethel Beach.
Trying to capture the blowhole spraying water into the air, we had to take care not to get saturated in the process!
By now we’d learnt from Leanne where a poorly marked path would
take us to the Golf Course lookout and suggested we visit the deserted
(privately owned) Christmas Island Resort and Casino which opened with much
fanfare in 1993. It was forced to close down five years later when it fell
victim to the Asian Economic Crisis in 1998 along with anti-casino sentiment in
Indonesia. This picturesque resort with 156 guest rooms and suites, three
casino gaming areas, a bar, two restaurants, a nightclub and duty-free shop had
a 24-hour bus service meeting flights coming in from Jakarta, Singapore, Kuala
Lumpur, Broome, and Perth. At one stage, its takings were larger than all the
casinos in Australia. To see some of the buildings suffering the brunt of
weather and slowly disintegrating while landscaped gardens strangled by vines
and overgrown grass and weeds, was quite extraordinary and very sad. We
collected petals in the gardens.
With Ethel and Lily Beach open we could now do complete the
round trip up Phosphate Hill to the Look out. Expecting to walk upwards to the Golf Course
Lookout – the highest accessible point on Christmas Island it was very
disconcerting to take a steeply descending path through an old Chinese cemetery
before we eventually opened out to the lookout, on the cliffs above the golf
course. Sunday 13 December – our niece - Lil Holly Rutter’s Heavenly Birthday.
Lea climbed up onto rocks above the balustrade to toss the petals to the sky in
her memory. The wind whisked them
backwards. We knew she’d have loved this beautiful vista where we spent the
best part of an hour enjoying the breeze and the sight of birds gliding and
swooping past us. Marvellous! We tried in vain to photograph them in flight,
with little success.
As usual, it was an
exhaustingly steep climb. Lastly, we set off for South Point (at the tip of the
Scotty Dog’s front leg) to see where a village for mine workers had been
established in the 1960’s with railway to convey workers to the mine site. Very little remained other than some stone
walls, tiny temples on the outskirts. In what could have been a central area
with a sweeping stone stairway to the remnants of the station or passenger
terminal. Stuck to the wall we found a small hand drawn sketch map detailing
the layout of the village, it even provided the names of occupants to each
house; the whereabouts of the hospital, temples, police, shops, and brothels
provided.
No matter how hard we tried to avoid killing red crabs on the
road, it became nigh impossible in high density areas. Consequently, the
crunch-like or snap, crackle pop sound of a red crab being inadvertently killed
under the tyres was sickening and we’d visibly cringe. Christmas Island
Authorities and the community do their utmost to relieve crab deaths.
Small barricades placed prior to annual migration help alleviate the crab pressure on sections of the main island arterial road to guide the crabs away from busy intersections and in one place a 5m high bridge built over the road where a lot of mining activity and road trains travel allowing crabs to pass safely on their way to the coast.
As noted, many roads during the high-density mass migration
are closed off. The main arterial road has barricades in places where crabs are
known to move in big numbers yet with vehicles moving on the island at this time,
we came to realise the mortality caused, must be one of the greatest single
threats to the crabs’ existence. With
the early arrival of the crabs this year the early morning traffic to the High
School in Drumsite found itself in a ‘killing field’. Apparently, the crabs had
taken an unexpected detour through the school due to construction taking place
further along. The heavy traffic on the road had resulted in carnage. After seeing
the crab’s safety bridge with only one crab nearby by – and with the big
section of Murray Road reopened we returned through Drumsite and stopped at the
school crossing.
Children Crossing
Collage of the children’s signs along the road
Conscious our time on Christmas island was running out - we spent much of our last full day on Smith Point at the residence of the former British Administrator.
Tai Jin (Big Boss) or aka Buck House is now the Island’s museum.
History here dated back to 1643 when it was first discovered, and taken possession in the name of Queen Victoria, by Captain William May in June 1888. In the grounds of the museum stood the gun emplacement the British had established in World War 2, a single six-inch gun with which they hoped to defend the island against the Japanese. As it turned out, when the Japanese warship passed on its way to the Cocos, the small garrison of men on the island promptly raised the white flag and when he Japanese returned with nine ships and 1000 troops, they took occupation of the island for the next three years.
In the front garden overlooking Flying Fish Cove are two memorials to the asylum seekers drowned off Christmas Island in search of freedom and a better life in 2001 when 146 children, 142 women and 85 men lost their lives (on 19 October 2001) and another on 15th Dec. 2010.
In this Covid year, friends were amazed that we had been
allowed to travel “overseas” as the history of Christmas Island is not well
known. It originated as a British Colony
until the Island surrendered to the Japanese in 1942. Unable to maintain food
supplies after the sinking of their cargo ship in 1943, the Japanese sent half
the population over to prison camps in Indonesia. All Japanese troops left the
island in August 1945 and the British returned to reclaim the island. It remained
a British Colony until it was placed under the jurisdiction of Singapore in
1946. Come 1955, the Cocos Keeling Islands were transferred away from the
Colony of Singapore to becomes an Australian Territory. Two years later the Australian
Government paid Singapore £2.9 million to acquire Christmas
Island. It wasn’t until 1958, when the
United Kingdom transferred sovereignty to Australia with the full consent of
the people, 60 % of which are Chinese and 25% Malay. By 1968 Christmas and Cocos were named
Australian Indian Ocean Territories. Both Islands were incorporated into the
Northern Territory for voting in Federal elections and Islanders granted
citizenship, rights, and responsibilities in 1984.
In the museum, our attention was drawn to the changes occurring on the island as a result of introduced plants and animals. Among the 180 of the plants species on the island introduced -
This lead tree or coffee bush – Luecaena, is probably the worst according to the International Union for Conservation of Nature (Invasive Species Specialist group) who drew up a list of The World’s Worst 100 invasive species.
The African Land Snail, George found down at Rocky point, is listed among the world’s worst, as it is a voracious feeder on many plant
species.
And then there is the Yellow Crazy Ant. We inspected any ant we saw yet never came across the Crazy Ant, considered the ‘’greatest threat to the island’s ecosystem’’ for its drastic effect on the island’s red crabs, several reptiles, and birds.
The island has a history of colonisation, racism, war and occupation, worker’s rights, introduced pests, asylum seekers and detention centres. All seem to have only made the population stronger and more determined. With ten different languages and religious beliefs, Christmas Island struck us as an extraordinarily good example of a multi-cultural society, a veritable melting pot of races, living happily together.
The
island’s informality, its most friendly, helpful people left a deep impression
on us, as did their words … ‘’we cling to Christmas Island like red crabs to
a rock, but our quality of life is worth it. We live far from the harsher
realities of the world and our children are growing up better for that.
Sometimes our dreams have borne bitter fruit, or no fruit at all, and sometimes
we leave, but Christmas island will always be our home’’.
Cocos Keeling Islands
15 December we flew on to the Cocos Keeling Islands. Our flight was scheduled to depart at 4pm but again the plane was delayed an hour in Perth, making for a late arrival on Cocos at sunset. We recall glimpses of dramatic looking cloud formations but no time to truly appreciate much else.
The Cocos Keeling Islands are an isolated, low lying, horseshoe shaped group of 27 coral atolls that lie 900km ENE of Christmas Island. Total land area – 14 square kilometres. Lying 25km to the north of the main cluster is another atoll, North Keeling island, one of Australia’s most remote National Parks. On the western edge of the lagoon is West Island with a population around 150; while on the eastern edge is Home Island – a Malay population of about 450. We landed on West Island with its runway occupying the central portion of this long narrow island.
Atolls have developed on the edge of an old volcano crater or seamount, the islands are separated by a 25km wide shallow lagoon.
The contrast to Christmas Island was immediately evident even as we came into land and, re-emphasised by a sign in the airport-saying we were at 10 feet above sea level. Christmas Island had always been in our heads for the red crab migration – Cocos had another reason for visiting. With the threat of climate change induced sea level rise beginning to make itself felt in many parts of the world, George wanted to see the implications that may affect a community living in an area no higher than 4m above sea level, for himself.
Airport processing may have seemed rudimentary to many but having travelled in Africa we found it familiar, informal, and delightful. Outside, we were told to follow the little group leaving the airport. We quickly caught up and within 2-3 minutes we were at Cocos Village Bungalows, our accommodation.
Our bungalow
Set in well kept gardens, we truly felt we had arrived on a tropical island from the moment we stepped up to our bungalow - thanks to the many touches added by Gael and Graeme, the warm and welcoming owners who’d met the flight and escorted the group to our ‘island home’ of ten bungalows. Fortunately for us, the folk destined to be in our double bungalow with shared verandah cancelled at the last moment.
We had been warned that food was a ‘problem’ on Cocos and having found it difficult on Christmas we came prepared. A ready pack of rice in the microwave and a tin of spicy tuna whipped up in five seconds in our very well equipped kitchen. A good night’s sleep and we were ready to explore next day only to find when we woke to find low clouds streaming overhead, a strong wind blowing and rain falling.
Gail told us
our hire vehicle was parked opposite the airport with key in ignition and a sign on the dashboard with our name. George popped along to collect it so that we
could remain dry and comfortable as we drove around West Island
orientating ourselves. As we headed towards the south end we found
Leanne from Dampier looking for
House 20 in the road where we were scheduled to meet at 2pm for our Motorised Canoe Safari. In view of
the weather, she was wondering if it would be postponed! We reckoned weather in the tropics could
alter so fast that we’d wait until they advised us. She hopped into our 4X4
twin-cab truck and came viewing with us! At the end of the runway we found a
bulldozer clearing the muddy road south.
We soon realized this was the lowest
side on the island and at high tide the water regularly inundated the
area. Last night’s rain had exacerbated the situation and there was
plenty of clearing up to make the road passable.
The unsealed road took us through dense forests of coconut palms. Along the route, we were to see dozens
of bedraggled feral chickens running around, together with the occasional
purple crab, the Cocos equivalent of the red crab on Christmas island. It was
far more wary and fast moving than the red crab, so very difficult to
photograph. The only other form of wildlife was a small jacana-like bird which
we later discovered was a white-breasted water hen.
At the southern tip we found a yacht club in a beautiful setting. First impression was a lawn stretching down to white sands and then sea…all on the same level. Colours not quite according to the brochures due to the stormy skies and drizzle about us but certainly much truth - ‘’The Cocos Islands offered clear blue skies, fine white sandy beaches, and a tropical climate; a refuge where all the cares of the world can be left far behind. In short, this island paradise is an idyllic setting for the holiday experience of a lifetime’’.
Thereafter, we drove north (the length of West Island being 15km!)
briefly stopping to see beaches, the original jetty and fuel depot, and the
ferry terminal.
These gravity based structures made from sandbags began around the main
settlement and protected much of the foreshore exposed to the open ocean.
OOH! The Big Barge Art Gallery was open. We’d read about this inspiring art space housed inside the hull of an historic timber barge rescued from obscurity. We took the walk up the drive enjoying installations on the way up and spent a good hour there. We were to return more than once.
The barge, Biar Selamat, was built on Home Island in 1970 using hardwood imported from Singapore. It was used to collect coconuts for the copra industry and collect supplies off visiting ships as well as ferrying people across the lagoon. In 1995 it was pulled out of the water and discarded on Trannies Beach for six years before someone had the idea of turning it into an art gallery. This project took ten years to complete with the aid of many people.
The gallery officially opened on 15th August 2009. Within the barge is the work of local artist Emma Washer, the ‘’flotsam specialist’’, who used the abundance of flotsam and jetsam that washes up on the beaches of the Cocos islands. Her work is designed to celebrate a connection with the sea and her determination to protect the islands from the ‘’waves of waste’’. We loved the placemats – utilitarian mementos and chose four. George DID NOT want the mat with ‘the rubbish man’ but Lea loved the man! Leanne also found Christmas presents for family.
By lunchtime, the weather still blustery and grey and not
good for the Safari in less than an hour.
The three of us visited the West Island general store immediately behind
our Bungalow. We were to delighted to smell and see fresh rolls coming out of
the oven. It was Wednesday, the only day
in the week for the bakery. We bought a
dozen, to ensure we had picnic food over the course of our week! By 1.30pm –
with no indication of the canoe tour being cancelled, like lambs to the slaughter,
we walked to the pickup site, signed the indemnity documents. Kylie (Adventure Tours) took the wheel of her
Rav4, with the three of us to the departure point towards the southern end of West
Island. There we found the motorised canoes equipped with outriggers to seat
two to three people, for a safari tour of southern islands (route shown in yellow below).
First, the vehicles had to be moved to Scout Park as the incoming tide would swamp their base camp and we would return that higher ground! Dry bags and life jackets were made available before a brief run down on operating anchors and motors! Plenty of jumping in and out of canoe with the added complication of the outriggers wisely had Lea call Leanne over to join us and be the active anchor man while George manned the motor.
The flotilla of colourful canoes set off in the driving rain
to our first stop, a small atoll locally known as Pulu Maraya – a fine
snorkelling site.
Glad to be sitting in the middle with her life jacket as wind
and water protection, Lea was not to be immune after all. A particularly fierce splash blinded her
despite double protection glasses, and she sported a blood shot eye for a few
days after.
At the back of the flotilla, we had to catch up and, not lose
sight of Kylie in the lead canoe as she took canoes through a narrow rocky
break. Choppy sea sent sheets of water over the bows, drenching us all and, noise
of the prop scraping on coral boulders beneath the canoe was alarming. We tried
to find deeper water and alter our weight within the canoe. George had noticed
the prop surrounded by specially constructed guards and relaxed as it was
obviously bound to happen in these shallow waters.
On reaching Pulu Maraya, we pulled up in the shelter of a lagoon that lay behind the fringing reef and George speedily began snorkelling ahead of the mob. Swimming along the inside of the reef, with the tide rapidly rising. The resultant current was so strong he scarcely needed to swim, was simply carried along by the current watching the most fascinating array of marine life flashing past. Masses of clams, sea cucumbers, clusters of nudibranchs (some red in colour reminding him of flamenco dancers) and shoals of fish of all sizes and colours. So intriguing that the only way of stopping to admire a particular congregation was to hang onto a bit of coral! The current carried the snorkelers around to the back of the atoll into a quiet zone. No longer any coral, only sand and light growths of sea grass so snorkelers walked across the island back to the canoes. Lea among a few, had happily chatted and soaked with one hilarious moment when a delightful ex South Africa we had sat behind at the airport, began floundering about. We blamed her gin lunch tipple when it was the tide knocking her about as her bare feet battled with the rough stones and coral fragments. A fellow South African went to find her shoes while we cast nasty aspersions in Joan’s direction. A kind, young Adventure Crewman took shoes out to her and guided her back to her group of cackling old ladies.
The sun had briefly come out and we were sweltering in the
humidity, glad to set off again into the windy waves. George steered and baled
water as we moved on to Pulu Belan Madar atoll, in the shelter of which we
beached the canoes and, looking like wet rats, took a break on terra firma.
As the Adventure crew set out a table laden with delicious snacks and chilled champagne or Mimosa’s; our attention swiftly turned to a bag of vegetable scraps being emptied onto the sand with a Jungle rooster waiting expectantly. Far more fascinating were the droves of red hermit pouring out of the cabbage trees and across the beach, post haste to feast on the scraps of vegetables, specially brought for them. It seemed unreal to think crabs, like crocs, heard the boats coming and made a rush from every direction possible to partake in free food! The young crewmember explained crabs have an acute sense of smell covering huge distances.
There were literally hundreds of them making for an
incredible sight – especially thinking back to our excitement at Barn Hill,
finding one, let alone a dozen hermit crabs on the beach! The very few photos
taken of this incredible spectacle does no justice to the phenomenal scene we
witnessed. Drizzle and lighting a problem, George’s little digital camera
(bought under emergency in Ecuador, six years ago) faltered in the unequal
battle against the elements and reliant on an anxious Lea using her new phone,
safely tucked up in a dry bag amidst all this water!
The next section of our canoe safari took us to another small
island where endangered blue-tailed skinks had been released. Endemic to Christmas Island, this skink had
been thought to have gone extinct. Short years ago, a group were suddenly
discovered and split between Taronga Zoo, Sydney, and The Pink Reptile House of
safety on Christmas Island for breeding purposes. So successfully, a few from
both the Zoo and the Pink House, were released here and thriving.
Ahead lay South Island, the southernmost island on the eastern arc of the Cocos archipelago. Here we beached the canoes for the last time with another round of drinks as our host demonstrated how coconuts were de-husked during the boom years of the Island’s copra industry. We all helped devour the fresh contents. Four adventurous hours had flown, and we were homeward bound running with the strong waves surfing in with the strong the strong following sea behind us. Waves periodically breaking over the stern calling for frantic baling by the skipper, but after a truly marvellous time we made it safe and sound, Our saving grace was that the incoming water and rain was typically, tropical warm! An absolute highlight of our trip and a fine introduction to the Cocos Keeling Islands. We could only imagine what it would have been like had the weather been kinder. The mist and cloudy conditions had obviously dulled the intense blue colour of the water and the brilliant green colour of the coconut trees. We went to bed hoping the true colours of the islands would soon be revealed.
As a matter of interest, the South Keeling islands are the
only place in the world where, with careful planning and preparation one can do
an ‘’atoll walk’’ from Scot Park on West Island (where we took off in the
canoes) to the Home Island jetty.
Being unmarked and tide dependent it is a difficult, 19.7km walk, that takes 8 hours to complete and involves a lot of reef walking. A tempting challenge?
George’s camera dried out during the night and began working
again. Not so the weather!
It was still overcast
and humidly warm, we went for a swim and snorkel at Trannies Beach.
As George walked the far side of Trannies beach he was able
to photograph a Cocos island oddity …
On route home, Lea fast becoming a specialist in crab
photography, managed to get a good picture of the Cocos purple crab on the
grassy boundary beside the road before it managed to get into the jungle.
Although we were told Cocos Islands were on the edge of the
East Asia-Australian flyway, we found the birdlife of the Cocos Keeling
Islands nothing like Christmas Island in terms of diversity and abundance. We looked
for the rarely seen buff-necked rail and the drongo cuckoo and had to be content
with water hens and feral chickens!
Outside our bungalow a resident pair of silent white breasted water hens were regularly seen in the garden. One early morning, we awoke to a mighty hullabaloo – a strange high-pitched cackling that went on and on until George could stand it no longer and went to see... The garden residents appeared to be having a domestic upset! They scuttled off into the shrubs as soon as George appeared.
By Friday the weather vastly improved and we drove back to the Yacht Club to enjoy a walk around the point; see Leanne’s plane coming into land.
And wade about in this beautiful shallow water, watching reef sharks, sometimes at such close quarter Lea would involuntarily gasp. With
that, the shark whipped round in a new direction.
Black tipped reef sharks searching for fish in the
crystal-clear shallows, it was possible to get a decent photo.
The rest of the morning was spent relaxing in the shade of
some coconut trees. Lea reading in idyllic island style surrounds.
The minted blue colour of the water, stretching away into infinity, was absolutely superb. Ghost crabs running everywhere entertained us. IF Christmas Island is regarded as Australia’s Galapagos, then surely the Cocos Keeling islands must be Australia’s Maldives?
Saturday morning, we caught the 9.30 direct ferry to Direction Ireland for another sublime day. The turquoise blue colour surrounding the island, underlain by white sand, the dark shapes of coral ‘’bommies’’ and the coconut tree lined beaches gave us our first view of Direction Island, widely considered the best in Australia.
Another reason George had been keen to visit the Cocos Islands. He'd read about the ‘’Battle of the Cocos’’ between Australia’s HMAS Sydney
and Germany’s SMS Emden off the Cocos Keeling islands on 9 Nov. 1914. He
knew the Emden had beached on North Island but failed to realise Direction
Island had been the focus of the whole event. Consequently, when we stepped
ashore the first thing to fully absorb us for the next few hours….
The memorial gazebo alerted us to a wonderful story of
when the War came here, for a day in 1914.
Taking the Heritage Trail with 26 interpretive panels of information, covering 3km around the edge of the island.
The story of the Battle of the Cocos is a particularly fascinating one. In essence, it revolved around Germany’s determination to destroy the undersea communications cable and the wireless tower established by the British on Direction Island. The Great War engulfing Europe, a long way away from the isolated Cocos islands and the men stationed there were having a fairly comfortable time playing tennis, fishing, and swimming; attended by numerous retainers from cooks to laundrymen…
Their calm was shattered at 6.00am on 9th Nov. 1914 when a suspicious cruiser (with a dummy funnel), flying no flag, arrived at full speed and an armoured launch coming ashore. It was the Emden, which for several months had been creating havoc in the Indian Ocean attacking ports, sinking ships, capturing ships, and seizing Allied assets, effectively shutting down the trade routes. Under the command of Capt. Karl von Mueller, known as ‘’the last gentleman of war’’ as he performed his tasks without loss of life on either side. Fortunately, a brief message sent out, ‘’S.O.S. Strange warship at entrance’’, was picked up by the Sydney busy escorting a convoy of ships on their way to Indonesia. The Sydney immediately came to investigate, and a fierce battle ensued; resulting in the Emden being so badly damaged, with many of its crew killed (134) the captain included, as the Emden was purposely beached on North Keeling Island.
The Emden’s impact had been such, that Winston Churchill
ordered a squadron of four cruisers to devote themselves exclusively to hunting
it down
The Emden’s raiding party of 30 men came ashore and politely
explained what they’d come to do. Were offered no resistance, simply a request
by cable station staff that care be taken not to drop the wireless tower across
the tennis court when the Germans demolished it. This was fully complied with. Such geniality continued, even after the
raiding party, realising the Emden had been destroyed, commandeered an old
schooner, the Ayesha, anchored in the bay. The Germans left with much
hand shaking, saying goodbyes and even gave three cheers to the islanders as
they departed! As for the Signal
Station, all was smartly repaired as the Germans had cut dummy cables and
damaged a section to Perth!
When we reached the southern point of Direction Island with lookout
platform over ‘The Rip’. we were
fascinated to watch a couple in the grip of the current that runs through this
area, struggling to make any headway against it. Having heard about the danger
of snorkelling in ‘’The Rip’’ George had purposely not brought his snorkelling
gear. Later, back in the protection of the lagoon, George regretted leaving his
equipment behind.
There cannot be many places like Direction island in the world. It is markedly different of course from one side of the island to the other. Where exposed to the open ocean a tremendous amount of plastic debris is washed up (as we found at Chili Beach on the Cape York peninsula); piles of coral boulders are also washed up during storms. But the long beach (divided by the Ferry jetty) overlooking the lagoon is an extraordinarily beautiful, peaceful place. No better place to unwind – George plagued by the thought of going back to a caravan park in Perth.
We caught the only ferry
back to West Island at 3.30, sitting on the roof this time, to give us a better
view of the passing beauty, thinking of the Australian Navy’s first major
engagement in WW1 and the lives of people lucky enough to live here.
We continued onto Trannies Beach for another snorkel and swim. On this occasion, Lea near frightened George to death by sneaking up on him engrossed in coral wonderlands; grabbed hold of his flipper before she collapsed in giggles. He was reminded of Kim Hodierne at Lake Kariba who’d had the same thing happen to him, except it turned to be crocodile!
Our penultimate day on the Cocos Keeling Islands had us catch
the ferry to Home Island with the large Malay community live.
A view of Home Island as we disembarked from the ferry. On
arrival we walked along this beach front with its many
slipways, in the direction of Oceania
House where five generations of the infamous Clunies-Ross family,
original settlers of the Cocos Keeling islands, claiming to be the ‘’Kings of
the Cocos’’, had lived.
Once again, this is no place to even to attempt to describe the history of this extraordinary family, suffice to say they had incredible influence on the islands and simply cannot be disregarded. John Clunies-Ross (1786- 1854) was the first to take occupation of the islands in 1827 and begin the copra business bringing in Malays to plant the coconut palms and harvest them, trading with Dutch vessels going to Java and Sumatra. In 1851, when his son John George Clunies-Ross (1823 – 1871) took over the business, the islands had been taken possession of by the British Government. He was appointed Superintendent of the islands, a role later taken on in 1871 by George Clunies-Ross (1842 – 1910) when his father died. In 1886 Queen Victoria granted the islands in perpetuity to the Clunies-Ross family. George issued their own coinage and became regarded as the ‘’universal providers satisfying the wants of the community’’ and, being a very astute business man, also established the first settlement on Christmas Island. John Sidney Clunies-Ross (1868 – 1944) took over the reins, working the phosphate deposits on Christmas Island, until dying of a heart attack during the Japanese bombing of Home Island in August 1944. He was followed by John Cecil Clunies-Ross (1928 – 2019), who under threat of expropriation finally sold the islands to the Australian Government for £2.5 million, only to go bankrupt later and move to Perth.
As
of 2007 John (‘’Johnny’’) George Clunies-Ross 6th (born 1957) lives
on West Island and breeds clams for the aquarium trade and is an island
character.
Disappointingly, we found Oceania House is now in
private hands and we could only see the front from a cordoned off area on the
coastal fringe.
Hot and very humid we continued to walk around the brick
paved streets of the Home Island Kampong (village). The houses all identical
and most had a boat in well kept little gardens. Primary means of conveyance were
small buggies, similar to golf carts and as these buggies moved up and down the
streets we’d be given a friendly wave. The museum only opened at 2pm and the
Supermarket directed us to the ‘’Seafront Restaurant’’. Covid social distancing
and sign in, people had obviously pre-ordered their meals so it took time
before the busy kitchen was able to take our order. A passion fruit smoothie and iced coffee
arrived in huge sealed waxed cups and we battled to remove the plastic seal in
any way we could think of. Eventually Lea popped over to some youngsters and
asked how to open! ''Strongly stab with the pointed end of the fat straw into the
seal''!
At the Museum, we learn a great deal more about the
Clunies-Ross family, the battle of the Cocos, the shadow puppets that were once
a major form of entertainment on the island, as well as the boat building and
copra industries. In the village centre was a WW2 memorial to Islanders that
lost their lives in August 1944-bombed by a Japanese warplane who returned to
spread fuel on the fire caused.
The heat was draining and we decided to catch an earlier ferry than planned and sat in the shade of the huge laurel trees (Calophyllum sp.) that lined the foreshore, until the ferry arrived. A wedding is a very big event on this island – the entire community invited and fellow Islanders working away all make a determined effort to return for the week’s festivities. As mentioned much earlier fresh food can be a problem on both the Indian Ocean Territories but more so on Cocos especially preparing for a wedding with vast numbers in attendance. Both groceries stores on Home and West Islands will literally be left with empty food shelves. We think this helps give rise to ‘ bring your own food’ comments that arose as prepared to visit the Territories, aside from the fact that fresh food is expensive and can be limited. An iceberg lettuce generally sells at $15 per kilo and a young man who had been working on the island for the past two months reckoned he only ate two-minute noodles.
Having learned a lesson about ‘booking’ on Christmas Island. Our evening meals had improved and we’d pre-order from the Salty’s – the airport Café and collect take away fish and chips one night and Turkish spinach gozleme another.
Our last night we splashed out and make a booking for a Coconut
infused Dinner at Saltmakers – next door to our Cocos Village
Bungalows in a garden setting overlooking the ocean sunset.
A mocktail of creamy fresh cocoanut preceded our ice-cold
beers…. Yum!
As we were only flying out at 6pm we spent our last morning packing our bags. Found the Communication Centre and requested a minimum of data rather than the $20 a day, well beyond our tight budget. Lea was given $5 – enough to send off a few messages, before heading to the Northern point of the island to top up with diesel before returning our truck. We stopped by Trannies for a final swim.
Technically, we had not set foot outside Australia, yet our
visit to the Indian Ocean islands made us feel as good as having gone to some
exotic location overseas. The Indian Ocean islands are a beautiful, fascinating
place to visit and If any followers of our blog have never been there – just do
yourselves a favour and go!
Cocos Christmas Tree
------------------------------------------------------------------------
In the early hours of the 23 December we arrived back in
Perth. Lea’s phone wouldn’t work and she suspected the settings changed at the
Cocos Communication Centre but she could not pick up on it. Fortunately, the
Airport Free Wi-Fi allowed her to call an Uber.
As always, Uber drivers are most interesting people. Asmal asked us
where we’d been. On hearing Christmas Island, he asked if we worked there. We
laughed and said no we’d just been to see the Island. He had been an Asylum
seeker from Afghanistan in detention on Christmas Island and remarked that it
had been such a relief to be safe there, that he remembers it fondly. Darwin Detention Centre far from pleasant and
Perth a big improvement over the 4 years.
On release he had battled for work in Melbourne and returned to Perth.
He was advised, as an Uber driver to speak English all he could to improve his
language skills. A daunting task and we were impressed. Little sleep left to us with noisy katabatic
winds hammering our caravan. As dawn broke all too soon, we knew we were in for
a fearsomely hot day. For the next three days temperature sat at 40°C plus. A relaxed family
Christmas albeit a lapse of brain in high heat resulted in Lea forgetting to
take the pavlova. All ended well.
A New Year is on the
doorstep, a more virulent strain of Covid has brought back lock downs and, in
other parts of the world, hospitals struggle with bigger numbers than earlier
in 2020. Covid has brought loss in varying degrees however, resilience has
brought coping skills in a myriad of ways and within this raw reality comes a
new way of living and new hope.
