The Land Down Under
Wednesday, September 4, 1996
Just like the last trip, this one started pulling out of the driveway in the wrong direction. Not knowing how difficult things would be getting Bill's firearms onto the plane, we left home at 12:30 p.m. for our 4:55 flight. Once check-in was done at the Bradley International Inn, we headed for Friendly’s for lunch. After lunch, the shuttle brought us to the airport. Arriving at 3:00, we figured we had plenty of time to get our luggage checked in.
At 3:10, we were done. Amazing. No need to check the firearms, no need to check the ammunition. All Bill had to do was sign a card that stated the firearms were unloaded and put it into the case with the guns. We didn't even have to show identification. All prepared with driver's and marriage licenses, expecting the worse; we had no problem ... until ...
Going through the security section to get to the flight gate. Three rifles and one handgun gave Bill no problems at all. I had a computer and had to have my bags searched. Off came the 30 pound backpack, anxiety hitting because I couldn't find the key to unlock the compartment the computer was in, and there were people behind me waiting to go through. Got that all set, and had to go back through the security gate because I forgot to take off my purse, not without more anxiety as it was attached to my belt. Now that I was half undressed with backpacks, computers, bags and purses being tossed and carried all over the place, it was a mad dash at the conveyor belt watching for my stuff to come through the x-ray machine, and at the same time, watching where my computer was being led to the nearby "search table". Search complete, I now had the job of putting everything all back together again, including my state of dress. As I carried backpack, computer, purse and other paraphernalia trying to escape on it's own from the backpack, the nearest empty chair seemed miles away.
All was herded back into its proper compartments and off we went again, only to have a 2 ½ wait to board. The news stand looked like a good place to hang out. Bill bought a Playboy magazine and I got Discovery, along with some batteries for my broken camera. We had just finished lunch an hour ago so Bill decided to have an Ice Tea and a Doughnut. We sat down at one of the cafe tables by a window to pass our time. Somehow, I ended up reading the Playboy magazine and Bill got Discovery. I asked Bill how this happened, and he said, "I won't be able to do anything about it since I'll be sitting on a plane for 24 hours, so why get myself worked up now!"
Our first of four flights went by without a hitch. Somewhere we lost a half hour, but since we had an hour between flights in Chicago, losing that half hour was no problem. We had just enough time to go from one end of the concourse to the other for our continuing flight to LA, without feeling rushed. No reason to rush. The plane was boarded, passengers were buckled in, and then the pilot announced that Air Traffic Control put a 1 ½ runway wait on our takeoff time. There was no explanation for it. The weather was clear, stratosphere was clear, but there was a backup in air traffic. The pilot assured us that he would do what he could since there were a lot of passengers headed for Sydney. One half hour later, we were off.
Touchdown in LA was right on time: 9:30 p.m. although by our clocks, our bodies knew it was 12:30. We haven't stayed up this late in ages. Yes, touchdown was right on time, 9:30. Our next flight was to leave an hour later at 10:30. At 11:00, they announced that they were having mechanical problems and that we wouldn't be taking off until at least 11:30. They couldn't tell us what the problem was; just that maintenance was working on it as fast as possible. At 12:30 a.m., we were informed that the flight would be delayed until 12:30 p.m. the next day. Our night's stay would be in a local hotel.
Although this delay made us miss one day of our vacation, I'll take a layover anytime. Our hotel was at the Crown Regency at the airport. While signing in, I noticed the cost of the room was $40.00. The actual cost of our room was $136.00. This was luxury, or so we thought until we hit Australia. We were given an amenities bag with deodorant, razor and shaving cream, toothbrush and toothpaste, and a comb. Shuttle service was provided to the hotel and returned the next day. Reimbursement for food was $25.00 per person and $15.00 for phone calls. Our hotel had a workout room, pool and spa, but being that it was after midnight, our only thoughts were to hit the bed.
Thursday, September 5, 1996.
The morning was leisurely. Up and out for breakfast at 8:30. Our meal was waiting for us in the Restaurant at the hotel. A fine breakfast buffet with everything imaginable. Scrambled eggs, sausage, bacon, French toast, fresh fruit, cereals, pastries, muffins, fruit juices, etc. Normal price for the buffet was $8.95. The possibility of me eating $9.00 worth of food is beyond comprehension. Bill made up for it. I told him he would probably suffer cardiac arrest at 33,000 feet from all of the fat and cholesterol he was shoving into his body.
After breakfast, a nice 4 block stroll was our next feat. L.A. upon first impression was not too smoggy, not too much traffic. An hour later, we changed our mind. You could see the haze just looking across the street. The sky was taking on that murky gray color along the horizon, and the air was getting a bit heavy to breath. We did notice, though, that the buses and trucks weren't spewing out the thick, choking diesel exhaust that we are so familiar with at home. Most buses were powered by natural gas.
Our instructions were to be back at the airport by 11:00 for our 12:30 flight out of L.A. Back at the room with an hour to spare, I pulled out this P.C. and wrote what I could while I had electricity. Bill read a bit and caught up on paper work. Time to go.
At the airport, going through security, Bill's pepper spray was confiscated. He was wearing it on his belt, along with his pocket knife. The metal ring on the spray can triggered the alarm, so they took it away from him. They told him that he could have it mailed to where ever he was staying, but since we didn't know where we would be, he passed. As we were waiting to board the plane, I said to Bill, "Now if our plane is hijacked, you can't spray the hijacker in the eyes, grab his gun, and save us." All 300 passengers of flight 815 were waiting to board for the 14 hour flight ahead of us. Out of all of the familiar faces from the night before, "Sheephead" stood out the most, and, most frequent. His hair was blonde and matted in strings "Rastafarian like". I told Bill he should have his hair done like that. Sheephead was in the seat in front of us on the shuttle back to the airport, so we were able to get a good look. From afar, it looked like sheep's wool. Up close, it was all knotted and twisted. We concluded that they were all just hair pieces that were tied in at the scalp. Bill saw him at the baggage claim area in Sydney 14 hours later picking up his surfboard.
Once on board, the pilot apologized for the delay, and informed us that it was a mechanical problem with the #3 engine. 14 Hours of sitting in one place is quite an experience. You have a few position choices. There's the "fight-for-space-with-your-carry-on-luggage" stretch while you try to put your feet under the seat in front of you. You can sprawl your legs out into the isle and see how many stewardesses you can trip. Roll up into a cocoon and try to put 6 feet of body onto 3 feet of chair. Have a change of scenery and sit on the toilet for a few minutes. There really isn't too much you can do to occupy yourself, either. You can read, or you can read, or you can re-read. We tried playing cards for a while, but the cards were new and very slippery. The tray table was not quite level, so we were chasing cards quite frequently. The view out the window was clouds. 14 hours of clouds can get a little tiring. We did see the sunset. From the air it was great because nothing got in the way. No trees or telephone poles. The horizon went on forever. We thought that we'd be able to see the sun setting for quite a while since we were flying into it, but it didn't last any longer than your average sunset viewed from the ground.
Two movies played in flight: Jane Eyre and Flipper. Paul Hogan (Crocodile Dundee) was in Flipper, so it got us in the mood. Well, me, anyway. Bill slept. The time changes were beginning to affect us. We didn't know if it was day or night, a.m. or p.m. The stewardesses were constantly waking us up to feed us. We'd no sooner get to sleep, and the food would come around. They gave us hot, wet, scented cloths to "freshen" up with before eating. The first time they handed them out, we weren't exactly sure what to do with them, so we watched the other passengers. The second time, they were much needed and appreciated. Bill missed this one, though. He was asleep.
The plane was scheduled to land in Sydney at 8:30 p.m. Going through customs went smooth as silk. First, Bill had to wait about 1/2 hour for his firearms to come off the plane. There was a problem with the last cargo door opening. Once all baggage was rounded up, customs awaited us with open arms. It wasn't crowded at all, so start to finish probably took us 20 minutes. I had to go to a different area than Bill. All the custom agents wanted to know from me was if I had fresh fruit with me, and what I planned to do with the computer once I left Australia. I told them "Take it home with me" and they said, "That's all we wanted to hear." I left, and went to meet Bill to see how his interrogation was going. The customs officers he dealt with were impressed that the bolts were out of his rifles, and the chamber was out of his pistol. They counted all of our luggage, asked Bill where he was hunting and for what, and sent us on our way. When Bill told them his was hunting varmints, one of the officers said, "You don't have to go all the way to Darwin to hunt varmints. We have enough of them around here."
By now, it was too late to catch a flight to Darwin; so again, the airlines put us up in a hotel for the evening. We had to wait about 45 minutes for the shuttle bus to return, as we had just missed it. There were still some stranglers from flight 815 with us. The hotel they put us in tonight was the Novotel. THIS was luxury. A two room suite, with a bar, bathtub and shower, and a king sized bed. The cable TV came with video games, but I couldn't locate them through the menu on the screen. There was a balcony with sliding glass doors that overlooked a pool with a fountain, and the terrace of the restaurant below us. Behind the fountain was a rock wall with palms and shrubs. The pool and spa was just behind this, but we couldn't see it. What struck us funny were the pigeons. There were pigeons -- just like the ones at home -- flying all over the place. Because we slept so much on the plane, we couldn't really determine if we were still tired or wide awake. It was about 11:00 by this time, and that bathtub looked really inviting, so I took the plunge. Bill came in and asked me if I was bathing "down under". Funny guy! The bar looked inviting, too. Bill took a beer and potato chips and I got a bottle of brandy which complimented the bath just right. Bill made a few calls to try to get in contact with either Dale Hegepeth or David Gold. Mission accomplished.
Saturday, September 7, 1996.
What happened to Friday? I'm not really sure. It disappeared somewhere in flight, because we crossed the International Time Zone and instantly, it became tomorrow. We woke up at 5:19. Just in time to see an Australian sunrise come up over the bay. I wanted to take a picture of it, but somehow never got around to it. Not knowing when our flight departure time was, or even what flight we would be on, we decided to stay up. Bill called the Concierge at 7:00 who got us our flight information. We had the choice of taking a 4:30 flight straight through to Darwin, or a 9:10 flight that stopped in Brisbane, Cairns (pronounced cans),Gove before getting to Darwin. Because we already lost a day due to the L.A. fiasco, and Bill was going to lose his first day of hunting, we decided to take the 9:10 flight. Breakfast first. Another buffet of any type of breakfast food you would want. This was our first exposure to fresh tropical fruits. All was sweet, juicy and delicious except for the papaya, or papaw, as they call it locally. That had a taste all its own. The restaurant was located on the third floor, and had windows on two sides with a view of the bay out of one window, and the projects out of the other. What a contrast.
As empty as the airport was last night, it made up for it this morning. Their procedures were different than at home. Baggage was done at a different desk than ticketing. Again, there was no big deal with the firearms. The baggage clerk asked Bill the normal required questions, had him fill out some additional paperwork while she checked his, and sent us on our way. Once on board for the first flight, there was a delay due to heavy air traffic on the runway. This held us back by 1/2 hour. This would have been fine, except that we had to catch our next flight at 10:30, and we were still in the air at that time. I asked the stewardess about it. She checked into it and came back to tell us that 10:30 was just the boarding time. We would be arriving just before 11:00. Because we were coming in to gate 39, and had to catch the next plane at gate 41, she said we would have no problem.
We had no problem. Bill watched for our luggage but never saw it. At this point, we had no idea if it made it to the plane or not. That was Bill's biggest fear: to finally get to Darwin, and have no rifles. They served us breakfast on our flight from Sydney to Brisbane. It was an omelet with mushrooms, cheese, peppers and tomatoes in it. It was good, but we just had that large breakfast in Sydney 2 hours back. On the flight from Brisbane to Cairns, they served us lunch. This was lasagna with a salad and roll.
Once in Cairns, we had 10 minutes to catch our flight to Gove/Darwin. They fed us again. This time it was a triple-decker sandwich with what looked like egg and tuna salad. I passed this one up. I couldn't handle two breakfasts and two lunches as well. You-know-who didn't hesitate. Cairns was beautiful. In the air, you could see the Great Coral Reef floating in a turquoise sea. The airport was just behind a mountain range, nestled in a valley between it and another mountain range. The surrounding country was farm land. From the air, you could see the fields patterned out, just like home.
Gove was the most colorful place I had ever seen. As the plane banked to approach the runway, you could see the turquoise blue of the ocean, the lush green of the trees, and the deep red clay color of the earth. The windows of the plane wouldn't help a picture, so I didn't take one. I'll have to see if I can find a postcard of it somewhere. I couldn't figure out why there even was an airport in Gove. There was nothing around. No bustling city, no cross roads of any highway. I didn't even see any buildings other than the airport. Our stay here was only 15 minutes. We headed into our last flight of the trip. It's been a long 4 days, and we're not done yet.
Bill found Dale and David while I was making a necessary stop. Dale would be filming this hunt for promotional purposes, so he "interviewed" Bill, and asked about his experience coming through customs. We were supposed to stay in Darwin for three or four days, then go down to Katherine, but David thought it would be better to go to Katherine first. That way, we could just board the plane from Darwin next weekend. We all piled into David's Datsun Pick-up and headed for Katherine -- 315 km away. It took us about 3 1/2 hours. I slept most of the way there. It was dark anyway so there wasn't much to see. The guys talked about guns and hunting and various Australian stuff.
We pulled into the Frontier Resort at 9:00. Dinner was waiting for us. They serve buffet style meals, and since they close at 9:00, the hostess prepared plates for us, and had them waiting for our arrival. We had oysters, prawns (jumbo shrimp), roast beef, fish filet, vegetables, potatoes and rolls. I thought that I would be too tired to eat, but it all went down -- except the oysters and prawns. I was beginning to feel the effects of all of these large meals finally, so I had my first hit of Mylanta. It worked well.
Sunday, September 8, 1996.
Bill got up with the alarm at 6:30, and I mean Got Up. I haven't seen him this excited in months. I was not so energetic. Being apprehensive about being alone for the day, and not knowing what I could do yet, I didn't have the enthusiasm that Bill had this morning. Bill showered, dressed and walked out the door to see if Dale or David were out, and he came right back in to get me. There were three peacocks walking down the sidewalk along side the rooms. One had his full tail, one looked like he lost his tail, and the third was either a female, or a youngster, as she was gray, not blue.
We headed on down to the restaurant for breakfast and to see if the other guys were there yet. Another nice spread. All of this fresh tropical fruit is going to cause withdrawal symptoms once we get home again. As we were eating, David came in. He noticed two guinea hens by the door, so got some cereal to try to feed them. They weren't cooperative. David joined us for breakfast, and he and Bill discussed what they were going to do for the day. I ran across the drive to the reception area to pick up some brochures on area attractions, and then read them while finishing breakfast.
We've been in Australia now for four days. I haven't had the time, or the energy to type, so I've resorted to writing during our six hour drive from Mataranka back up to Darwin. I'm not sure I even know what day it is -- Thursday -- I just asked. David just asked, "You loose the track of what day it is? That's the idea." I'll do the best I can to recap the last three to four days. We've experienced the real Australia. I've seen more animals in the wild than I can count, experienced the dust and the heat, and walked the true Outback.
From here on, it's going to have to be what Bill did, and what I did, as during the days, we separated. I spent my first hour or so reading through brochures on what there was to do in Katherine. Most activities here were bus tours to either Katherine Gorge or Kakadu National Park. It was too late to take a tour as they all start at 8:00 in the morning, so I decided to "hire" a bicycle and check out the town. It was a 4 km walk from the resort to Katherine Center. When I asked at the reception desk how far a walk into town it was, the clerk said it would take 20 minutes to half an hour. On the walk into town, I saw a flock of black parrots in a tree. I found out later they were called Red Tailed Cockatoos, as they had red feathers under their tails which you could only see when they were in flight.
I got into Katherine at just before 10:00. The town was all closed up. I then realized that it was Sunday. Great day to be window shopping. As I strolled down Main Street looking in store windows, a bunch of Aborigines walked by and asked me what time it was. I thought I was headed for trouble remembering what Dale had told us about the Aborigines as we were coming into Katherine last night. He said that the ones still living in the outback were as friendly as could be, and were very loyal to their station owners. The ones who have migrated into the cities are just like our blacks at home. They get involved in drugs and cause problems, then end up in the prisons. Dale said that 90% of the prison inmates now were blacks (which is what they call the Aborigines here). They guys who passed me kept on going their merry way which relieved me of my impending stress.
10:00 in the morning, and it's already unbearably hot. I stopped into the supermarket to buy some juice. This was my first experience with Australian currency. They do not have pennies or quarters. Everything is in 5's (rarely) and 10's. Their currency is 5¢, 10¢, 20¢, 50¢, $1 and $2 in coins, and $5, $10, $20, $50 and $100 in paper. It's hard to comprehend that $1 and $2 is in coin, or that there is a $2 equivalent at all.
By this time the visitor's center was open, so I went in to find out where I could hire a bicycle. There was Cooper's Cycles in town, but being Sunday, it was closed. The other place was Kookaburra's Lodge which was just three blocks down the road. Kookaburra's catered to backpackers. The rooms were very budget. Just a place to grab a shower and rest up. They booked backpacking and canoe trips here, also. Their bicycles were trail bikes with only one gear. I tried out three bikes before I found one that felt good. Unfortunately, I found out too late that I picked the only bicycle that didn't have a lock and chain on it, so everywhere I went, I was afraid to leave it. David stressed that you lock everything up, watch everything and, then told me too late after I had already done it, that you don't walk around town alone.
After obtaining my bike, I first went back to the resort to drop off all my brochures, and then hit the road. I first made a wrong turn and ended up riding around an industrial park. Once on the proper road, I drove by the Pony Club, Car Club, and Moto-cross Club. I was heading for the Lower Level Nature Park Reserve. Almost there, a couple of kids on a bicycle across the street noticed me holding the map and asked me where I was headed. Not quite understanding their question because of their "aussie-diction", I didn't answer but looked their way. The boy driving the bike then asked if I was going to the Lower Level. This I understood, so I answered back. He replied, "We're going there too. Just follow us.", and they kept making sure I was still behind them until we got there, telling me all the way, "We'll be there in a minute.", "We're almost there". Their friendliness delighted me, as we are not used to it at home.
The Lower Level was indeed lower. All of the land we've been on so far has been flat and level. I was headed down hill to the Katherine River. At the bottom, a bridge crossed the river where I found half a dozen kids swimming in it. Above my head, the trees were covered with bats. They were chattering, fighting and flying around in the bright daylight. The locals call these bats "Flying Foxes". Their proper name is Orange Fruit Bat. This is where I discovered I didn't have a chain and lock for my bike, so I was hesitant to leave it. I didn't feel too safe walking around here on my own as it was anyway. I took pictures of the bats, trying to get one as it was flying across the road. I then headed back to town, knowing I had to get back up that hill in this heat. At the edge of town, I stopped at a gas station/deli for a bottle of water. I bet we spent $75.00 on water alone on this trip. A table I sat at outside had my name carved into it where I sat. I guess this seat was meant for me.
It was just about noon, so I figured I'd follow Riverbank Drive back into town. The town of Katherine has a bicycle/pedestrian trail from one end to the other. A branch also goes out of town in to a housing development, and then beyond, past the resort we were staying at. A sign is posted just out of town stating that the trail from Katherine to Tindal cost $240,000.00. Riverbank Drive started at the Hot Springs. Again, I didn't want to leave the bike, as the spring was full of Aborigines. I continued on the path which really didn’t follow it's name. It did run along the riverbank, but the river was so far below, that you couldn't see it. The grass between the trail and the river was just burned. Some of the logs were still smoldering, the smell of smoke penetrating the air.
Between the heat of the day, and the heat of the smoldering ground next to me, I was dying. At this point, I decided to change my route and just head on back to the resort instead of going to the end at Knot’s Crossing. As it was, I still had a 4 km ride. Lunch was purchased at the Red Rooster, Australia's KFC, and carried it back to the resort. The 4 km that took me 45 minutes to walk, only took 10 minutes by bicycle. I ate lunch, and then pulled out the computer to try to catch up on the last 24 hours. To make myself comfortable, I had dragged a couple of chairs outside and typed in the shade of the verandah. As I was typing, one of the peacocks came strutting down the sidewalk right by my feet. Before I had come outside, I was preparing my stuff when I heard a tapping on the sliding glass door. I turned around, and there was the female peacock looking in the window at me. When I told Bill about it later, not long after, she came back and tapped on the window again. Bill said that she was hungry, so he got some crackers and we sat there for a few minutes feeding all three of them. They sure are beautiful birds.
The bike had to be returned by 6:30 or dark. I decided to head back at five, figuring this would give me plenty of time to walk back while it was still light out. All done, I was back at the resort by 6:30. On my walk back, I was joined by the ugliest dog you would ever want to meet. He sure was friendly, though. He had only three legs, and I wondered how he went to the bathroom. Wouldn't you know, he demonstrated it for me. He went up to a bush, and instead of just standing with the missing leg up to the bush, he faced the other direction, half squatted and lifted his other leg up, so that his was bouncing or jumping. He stayed with me until his owners came round the corner in their truck calling to him. He certainly didn't look thrilled that they were home, as he slowly wandered in their direction, taking several detours.
I decided to wait for Bill and Dave to come back to have dinner with them. I didn't think that they would be too much longer as dinner was only served from 6:30 to 9:00. I literally passed out at 7:00, awakening at 9:04. Bill still had not returned. By now, my imagination was taking over: They broke down in the middle of nowhere. A crocodile ate them. A bull trampled them, etc. As I was working myself into tears, the guys came home at 9:30.
Bill's story was, in his words, unbelievable in the things he saw, and the animals he shot. This is a harsh land, with beliefs and cultures far primitive than we have ever experienced. The ride out to the station house and to the hunting ground was 25 km on a dirt washboard road. He said he couldn't believe what David put that truck through. Once at the station house, they talked to the station owner for a while before going out to hunt. They were at a watering hole. Bill said it looked just like what you see on TV of the Serengeti Plains of Africa. Once there, they saw brumbies, wallabies, flocks of parrots, ducks and cockatoos and water buffalo. He told me that shooting his first wallaby was a bit tough, especially after seeing it lay there with its dark, dead, black eyes. It was only a moment’s passing as the initial sentimentality came and left and the hunter in him took over. We as Americans can't conceive killing wallabies, or kangaroos as that is what Australia is all about. That's the magic behind the tourist industry. In reality, they eat all the shrubs and grasses so there is no more left for the cattle. In addition, they breed like rabbits. The same with the brumbies and buffalo. The other problem with the buffalo is they tear down all of the paddocks and fences. Once in a while a water buffalo will get caught in a paddock somehow and cause havoc with the cattle. These are the wild buffalo. There are water buffalo that are tagged and branded young, then raised as cattle along with the rest of the herd. We saw some of them, but that's tomorrow's story.
Bill told me that the hardest thing he did was shoot a brumby. Total, he got three of them. He looked deeply saddened as he told me and said that it will take a long time to get over it, a good two hours at least. When he first saw the brumbies, he was mesmerized by them. Herds of them running around. They are very territorial and mark their territory as any other animal does. When the truck pulled up, Dave pointed out to Bill the horse stomping and snorting, ready to charge. Bill wasn't prepared mentally to shoot one. All horses at home are domesticated, cherished and sometimes revered upon. We have them pictured in our minds as majestic, regal creatures that are lovingly cared for and raised as royal servants. Here in the outback, the wild herds are a menace to most ranchers who don't want them around. Even the movies have glorified them by capturing them wild, accomplishing the near impossible task of breaking them, then training them for our own use. Reality here in the outback is a very far cry from what we've been raised to believe.
Bill proceeded to tell me how they collected wood, made a campfire and cooked the horse meat skewered on sticks over the flames. I heard this and thought of dog food. I can't imagine eating horse meat. Their lunch was also complimented with wild duck. David was so impressed with Bill's marksmanship that upon seeing a duck on the water, he jokingly told Bill to try shooting it. He did. Dave and Dale's tales of their last experience with hunters was truly a bad reflection on the good American Hunter. They were from L.A., and their hunting experiences were restricted to ground squirrels, but listening to them, you'd think they were world-class hunters. Once was obnoxious and complained constantly. Two others, who were supposed to be good friends argued incessantly with each other, to the point that Dale said he was embarrassed to be with them. One of them couldn't hit a thing. While still at the airport, Dale had told us "You're not supposed to talk bad about your Clients, but these guys were so bad, they don't deserve to be called hunters. We had a pack of pigs not more than 60-75 feet in front of us, and the one guy shooting missed every single one of them. I couldn't believe it!" This was the group that tented in the outback. This was the trip that Fred and Bill first tried to get. Sounds like the weeks should have been switched.
After the hunt, Dave and Bill had their 25 km back. They stopped at the station house to say good-bye, and then headed back to the resort. Dave had told us that even if you sign a contract with a station manager to hunt his land, you still have to stop in and pay your respects before each hunt, and again when you're done. He told us that there is one hunter in the area who is really obnoxious and has decided not to follow the traditions of respect. He enters whenever he wants and hunts where ever he wants. Apparently he has gotten so cocky, that the Aborigines have permission to spear him if he's caught. This being the end of day one, we both passed out once our heads hit the pillow.
Day Two:
David asked me what I had planned for the day. I told him that I signed up for the four hour cruise through the Katherine Gorge. He thought it would be an excellent idea for Bill and Dale to see it also. The Katherine Gorge (also called Nitmiluk National Park) is considered one of Australia's "7 Natural Wonders". We were up at 6:30, breakfast at 7:00. Bill went in to the reception desk to buy his ticket for the cruise, and then Dale joined him. They found out that the clerk had forgotten to call in for me to be picked up at the resort. What a shock that would have been if I was alone and no bus came to pick me up. That's just one more thing that would have been added to the list of "What went wrong on this trip". When I made my reservations yesterday, the receptionist asked me if I needed transportation as well. Thinking that "transportation" meant the 4 km from the resort to the center of Katherine where the bus left, I said, "Yes. It's either that, or I'll have to walk." I later found out that "transportation" meant the buss ride from Katherine, 25 km to the Gorge and return. I hope the receptionist didn't think I was a sarcastic American tourist.
Just before the bus set off, the clerk who took care of our tickets came in with a canvas bag that had a baby wallaby wrapped in a towel. It was an orphan as its mother got hit by a car, a rather common occurrence around here. It was very small, about 10" or so with soft gray fur and bucked teeth. I want one.
The bus ride was one half hours drive from Katherine. Coming through the town, the driver pointed out certain historic places: The first telegraph tower (which is where I wanted to ride the bike to yesterday, before I melted); the territories only working dairy; the first store or trading post; and the Katherine School of the Air. This school is for the kids and Aborigines out away from town living on the stations. Four hours a day they have classes via radio or TV. They come in to town for classes once every couple of weeks.
Once we reached the entrance to the park, we had to wait to board the boat for the cruise through the gorge. There were three separate cruises boarding on the same boat. They boarded the people for the 8 hour cruise first, then the two hour, and finally us on the four hour tour. Katherine Gorge system is made up of 13 gorges, separated by natural dams that have to be walked across during the Dry Season. They range from a couple of hundred meters to 2 km. Our four hour cruise only went through three gorges. We got off the boat at the end of one gorge, then walk to the next gorge and board another boat.
The water was crystal clear with a tint of green. It was funny because far away, it had a turquoise/green opaque appearance, but right up to it, you could probably see 6 feet down. The cliffs on either side went straight up 200 meters. This definitely was not a trip for the handicapped as we had to climb up and down rocks to get from one end to the other. At the first dam we had to walk across, the guide pointed out paintings on the rocks done by Aborigines. One was of a man with a full headdress on.
Our turn around point was at the rapids which were dry now. We got out to view the next gorge and see the vortex holes made in the rocks by the water. One large one had fish in it. These fish wouldn't be free again until the rains come during the wet season (referred to as "The Wet"), between December and March.
Halfway back we stopped for a half-hour swim in the river. The three of us didn't bring our "swimmers or bathers" so we just dunked our feet in the water to cool off. During the Wet, there are many beautiful waterfalls constantly pouring into to Katherine River Gorge. All were dried up at this time of year.
We arrived back at the resort about 1:30. Trying to decide between the three of us for the next hour where we would get lunch almost turned into an international crisis. The resort didn't serve lunch, and we had no transportation to go into town. Dale wanted to hire a taxi; Bill wanted to walk to get some exercise -- as if climbing all those rocks this morning wasn't exercise. They just about came to a mutual agreement when David showed up with the truck. We went into town for Meat Pies at Popeye's. These meat pies are the Northern Territory's equivalent to our McDonald's. They are eaten like a sandwich but are just like our pot pies at home only not as juicy. The base is a thick jell with just ground or shaved meat. They also come in many varieties like tomato and bacon; egg and cheese, chicken curry. They were mmm mmm good.
We packed up our meat pies then David brought us down to the thermal pools, where I stopped yesterday, to eat on the bank of the river. These pools, although close to the Katherine River, are not connected to it in anyway. The water is a constant 34 C (approx. 95 F). We didn't go in them as we weren't prepared for it. David told us that he'd be bringing us to a much better one later in the week anyway.
The rest of the afternoon was to prepare for this evening. The guys were going out to bait dingoes and I was to join them. The station wasn't far from where we stayed - maybe 20-30 minutes out of town. Dave stopped to pay his respects to the station manager who wasn't in. He picked up the bait which was a five gallon tub of cattle fat, and dropped of a 6-pack of beer. Once at the ranch, it was at least another hour before we got to the baiting spot. The average station here is 1 million acres, that's a lot of station roads to cover.
Before we got there, we topped to observe our first herd of cattle. These stations have fences, but only along the "main" station roads and at the paddocks. Everything else is free range. These cows weren't like ours at home. Some were Brahma bulls, others were even stranger. Amongst the cattle were a few water buffalo that were raised as cattle stock. Because they were hand raised from a very young age, they were still docile, but if provoked, would charge. In fact, all of the cows here were much more skittish than at home, and all had their guard up. The water buffalo were funny to watch because they'd stand perfectly still and watch you with their noses up in the air. Then, when they decided to move on, would lower their heads, but still keep their noses up in the air while they were running off. A second paddock we stopped at had horses, about 5 of them. We were sitting in the truck with the windows rolled down, and they all came up and stuck their noses right through the windows. Dale had mentioned that these horses were well cared for and treated well by the way they were acting.
Dale had noticed a flock of galah parrots (called lorikeets) off in the distance. He wanted to take a picture of them taking off in flight as they have pink under their wings that only show when in flight. Dave drove up to try to provoke them into flight. We yelled and beeped the horn and they just wouldn't move, or if they did, came right back down again. Dale finally did get the picture he wanted. There were hundreds of birds in this flock. They were white with pink heads and the already mentioned pink beneath their wings. There was also a flock of the Red Tailed Cockatoos I saw yesterday. Dale called them "Major Mitchell's" but I have yet to come across that name in any books I've picked up. He said that these birds go for $10,000.00 per pair in the U.S.
More than an hour from the front gate, we got to our destination. David called this his "home away from home". It was a corrugated metal shack with no doors and no electricity. It did have running water and a toilet. It was dirty and empty except for one ratty beaten up sofa and a few kitchen utensils. It gave me the willies walking into it as it looked like it hadn't been inhabited in years. This is how a lot of the people live out here. Everything is done outdoors. The buildings are basically just shelter at night from the animals and from the rains during the Wet. The running water was gravity fed from a water tower that collected rain water. Just under the water tower was a large double sink and a rather modern washing machine that also looked like it hadn't been used in 10 years. Next to the building was a cement floored covered patio. This patio had a rectangular pit that looked like it was used for a mechanic's pit. I found out a few days later while watching the movie "We of the Never-Never" that this pit was used in the early 1900's for sawing logs. One man would be in the pit, another would be on top, and they'd saw the log with a 2 man saw vertically. Whether this was the original purpose of this particular pit I never found out.
Our first job was to collect wood for the fires. One was to heat the fat; the other was for our pleasure. The heated fat would give the aroma of a dead animal that had been laying out in the sun and heat all day, and hopefully attract a dingo or two. Three guys collecting firewood, and I was the one bringing in the big logs. I didn't want these guys thinking I couldn't keep up with them. The fires were about 100 yards away from each other, just far enough to keep watch and not be able to smell the acrid odor of the rancid fat.
We pulled up chairs and sat around our fire for dinner. We had 2 hours before dark and before the fat would burn away. Bill had thought we'd need three times more wood than we collected as it was very light and dry. Dave commented, "You haven't seen Australian Hardwood yet, have you." By nights end, (3 ½ hours later) only one third of the wood we collected was used. Just after dark, David pulled out the 800,000 candlepower spotlight. He started with the spotlight at the fire, and then slowly moved towards the right. Bill was behind the truck when David called "There he is, are you ready?" The light had caught the green of the dingo’s eyes in the brush. Bill came around to the front of the truck to visually spot the dingo himself. The eyes blended in with the brush so were difficult to see. Within a few minutes, the dingo had turned away and walked off. Bill wasn't able to see it clear enough to take a shot. David shut the light out and said we'd have to wait another half hour or so.
Our dinner which was prepared by the resort consisted of cold prawns and chicken, crackers and cheese and a large salad. The mosquitoes were horrendous. It's a wonder the dingo came round at all with all the insect repellent that was in the air.
We got up 3 more times with the spotlight that night, but saw no more. When I had first learned about the dingo hunt, I expected a pack of dingoes, as everything I ever remember reading or watching about them on National Geographic was the packs. Dingoes run in packs or alone, both being common.
Day Three:
Our destination today is Mataranka, about 120 km south of Katherine. We were on the road by 7:00 as David had arranged for a fishing tour for me, which we had to meet at 8:30. Just as we pulled into Mataranka, David slowed to turn off and discovered the clutch had broken. Luckily, we were only about a half mile from a garage. After waiting around for another half hour, the mechanic was able to check the truck. It wouldn't be until tomorrow for the truck to be fixed as parts had to be delivered. The mechanic told David he could still operate the truck by starting it in gear and not using the clutch while shifting. The next 24 hours was one jerky ride. Due to the delay, I missed the fishing guide. It was too earl to check in to the resort and Mataranka wasn't much of a town, so I joined the men in their feral pig hunt.
Emotionally and physically, I was not prepared for this. The guys were in camouflage gear, Bill and David had long pants on. At least Dale had joined me in the shorts department. The rest of me was in bright blues and gold - excellent camouflage for hunting macaws, not pigs. I felt terribly out of place. I also had my sneakers on, not boots, so I had to tip-toe around the meadow muffins and swamps.
This hunt was at Elsey Station, the most famous Cattle Station in the Northern Territory because a book was written about it by Jeannie Gunn call "We of the Never-Never". Elsey Station was first established in the 1850's. The original homestead had been moved twice, rebuilt and destroyed numerous times since the Gunns' residence. Now, it looks like a dilapidated, abandoned farm with one modern modular-type home nestled amongst the usual corrugated tin buildings with burlap over the window screens. The only remains of a previous home was the tile flooring. It had what looked like 4-6 rooms, each one with a fully tiled floor. Some in brownish red 1" squares, and others in a white and green star-burst type pattern with curved tiles. It looked like it might have been an elegant home at one time as it faced the Roper River with an ornamented cement wall and stairway loading down the river. The river was the usual opaque turquoise green color that looked wonderfully inviting, but you couldn't swim in it because of the saltwater crocodiles that inhabited it. One of the station hands told us that they witnessed a crocodile take down a Brahma bull just a few days before.
As the guys were preparing to leave, Bill asked David if I was going with them. His reply was a short, curt, "Yes. She can't stay here!" Daylight was our Aboriginal guide for the day. He was the "Elder" of the tribe that lived on this station. We all piled into the back of a Toyota Jeep type pick-up and headed out to the Red Lily Lagoon. The Red Lily was a good half hours drive down dirt station roads. The roads were amazingly smooth. Station roads are groomed regularly by grading them.
Daylight let us out at a paddock amongst the cows and said he’d be back in 2 - 2½ hours. We had a few hundred yards to walk, along with climbing over a couple of barbed wire fences before reaching the lagoon. This lagoon was a swamp, filled with red flowered lily pad, taller and bigger than any lily pads I’ve ever seen. Along its banks we found numerous wallaby bones and a turtle shell.
The temperature by now was up into the 90’s, with a slight breeze one in a while. We had to walk to the far edge of the lagoon to be able to cross it. David and Bill up front, then Dale, then myself pulling up the rear, a job I was always stuck doing. Crossing the lagoon, I was prepared for the worse, walking through all that muck in my 2-week-old sneakers. To my surprise, the muck was dry, although it didn’t look it. Once across, David decided we should split and try to flush out any pigs that might be in the bush. Bill asked me at this point if I wanted to carry the pistol. I eagerly accepted. David and Bill went left into the bush, Dale and I went to the right, following the lagoon yet staying parallel with the others. We heard a splash, as the lilies started swaying. It was hard to tell whether it was the wind, or an animal causing the rustling of the plants. The animals were the ones to worry about as they could only have been the pigs we were looking for, or crocodiles. These crocks ran an average of 7-8 feet in length. I had no idea how large the pigs were. I expected small ones like those that we hunted in New York State last spring.
Once Dale determined that the coast was clear, we moved on. A touch later I noticed my first wallaby. I got so excited I started jumping up and down and yelling to Dale. Then in my embarrassment, I realized that I could have been scaring off any pigs. I stood quietly and watched the wallaby for awhile. He was in the bush quite a distance from us. Without binoculars, it was difficult to see him. He moved left under a tree, and to my surprise, joined another wallaby. I took pictures, but they were so far away and so covered by the bush that I am sure the pictures won’t come out.
We eventually met Bill and David coming out of the brush. Shortly after, they found fresh digs, evidence of pigs nearby. David suddenly raised his hands for us to stop. Bill took one shot, two shots, a third by David, and the search was on. I never saw the pig, so I had no idea what we were looking for. Still straggling behind Dale for protection, I was curious to see what Bill and David found. They went running back into the bush following the pig’s trail of blood. We then heard the call “He’s here, and he’s still alive!” With Dale in front of me, we crept slowly towards the others. There he was, 3 times bigger than I ever expected. It was only at this point I realized how vulnerable I was, even with a weapon in my hands to protect myself.
Two more shots, and the beast was down. The guy estimated that it weighed at least 2 kg -- that’s how they said it, too -- 2-K-G, approximately 300-400 lbs of pork, ham and bacon. He was one big pig, and a very old one at that by inspection of his tusks and teeth. Covered in mud, you really couldn’t tell what color it was, possibly brown and black.
David said to me “Ugly one isn’t it?” My reply, “No, actually I think he’s kinda cute!” took him aback as he looked at me surprisingly. Compared to the mount Bill has at home, this one WAS cute.
The next hour was spent taking pictures and deciding what to do with the pig. The idea of bringing it down to the lagoon was scrapped knowing the crocks would devour it. They thought about moving it to the next clearing, but then realized it was too heavy to move that far. In the end, it stayed where it fell.
We walked out of the bush back towards the swamp when we heard the beep of the truck’s horn. Daylight was back to bring us in for lunch. Another half hour’s drive in the back of the truck, hot, sweaty and dirty. I should have taken advantage of my experience by sucking in all the information I could in speaking with Marge and Dave, the current proprietors of Elsey Station, but my stress level was reaching it’s breaking point. It started crumbling during lunch when we were fed corned beef and beet sandwiches. The meat was cooked that morning, but was sitting out in this heat. The water came straight from the river and our tea was served in unwashed porcelain cups. I was sure I was going to die from food poisoning. The “kitchen” was a true Shepherd’s wagon with cupboards filled with your normal food staples. We sat at the table on old ratty chairs, the kind you see waiting at the curb for the trash collectors at home, and turned over buckets.
With unfamiliar people, in conditions I would consider almost third-world living, I broke down. I knew the guys were going out to hunt again. I just couldn’t go out with them again, and I couldn’t stay here either, remembering what David said earlier this morning that I couldn’t stay here. Bill pulled me aside to help me calm down as Dale and David sat in the shade to rest up a bit. When Daylight came back with the truck, refilled with feed bags, to bring the guys out again, I decided I would rather go out with them again than to stay here -- alone. Dale had said that even though the conditions looked third-world, it really isn’t. This is just the way they live out here.
I pulled out my luggage and donned slacks and boots. Bill soaked a kerchief in water and wrapped it around my neck, and we were off again. On the way out, Dale asked David why Daylight’s name was Daylight. He said that most likely, that’s when he was born.
When Daylight reached the spot we were at earlier, David jumped out of the truck and pointed out two rotten posts that were sticking out of the ground. He told us that this was the only remains of the original Elsey Station homestead. He had also told us that very few people have the privilege today of seeing it, so we should be very honored. We also found out that the current owner/manager had some problems with the locals regarding hunting and no one has hunted there for years. David has been the first person to break through that barrier and allowed hunting once more.
We didn’t get out of the truck at this point, but continued on for another half hour. At one point, we had to cross a river. It was just like you’d see in the movies where the land slopes down and the road disappears under the rush of the stream, making its way back up to other side to safety. This was the only place David got out to lock the wheel hubs of the 4WD. Once out of the water, they were set free again. All of us jumped out of the truck here to re-wet our kerchiefs as they were already dry. Then Dale took my hat and dunked it in the stream. He said it would be like air conditioning.
Along our journey, we stopped for 9 gates, Dale noticing that no two were alike. Bill was the gatekeeper on this trip out. He’d jump out, open the gate, and wait for us to pass, close the gate and jump back in the truck. I took on the job of notifying Daylight that we were ready to move on by tapping on the back window.
Our destination was called “The Pocket”. It looked unnatural out here as the terrain was mostly grass, eucalyptus trees and brush. The Pocket was a grove of coconut and palmetto palms. Our first step was to cross another river by foot. Although I had boots on, they were not waterproof like the guys’ were, so my knight-in-shining-armor swept me off my feet and carried me safely to the other side. Bill asked me if I wanted to carry the pistol again. I didn’t hesitate a second before it was in my hands.
We got into the grove of palms when a cockatoo overhead started screaming at us. I was, again, the last in line. An eerie rustling sound was nearby. With the screams of the cockatoo, and the rustling of the dry palms in the trees over head, the hairs on the back of my neck started to stand up; my adrenaline was pumping full blast. With Dale being a good 50 feet ahead of me, I wasn’t prepared for what happened next. The bush in front of me started moving and a body flew by me. Instantly I screamed and turned away, only to find out it was a wallaby, probably more startled than I was. I felt like such a fool. The guys didn’t make me feel any better by standing there laughing at me. Dale told me that he was just as startled when he first saw the wallaby run down from our left. David tried to console me by telling me that any experienced hunter would have reacted the same way, so not to worry. It’s a good thing I didn’t have the hammer cocked on the pistol ready to fire. I might have shot someone in front of me.
Deep in the “woods” we had to cross another stream. This time I had to traverse a log only to be met by briars on the other side. I watched as David crossed, falling face first, the barrel of his rifle stabbing into the mud. We climbed up out of the gully arriving at the edge of a field. Way off in the distance was 2 herds of wild horses. They were magnificent, running free with their manes billowing behind them. I couldn’t imagine shooting one of these beautiful creatures and fully understood what bill must have gone through two days before. You could see that they were greatly agitated by our presence, but they kept their distance.
We headed back down to the stream. Suddenly, Bill started running, aimed and shot at something. I saw the pig as it ran out of the woods leaving a cloud of dust behind. You could easily follow it’s trail for awhile until the dust settled back down.
We all caught up with Bill a few minutes later. He had been waiting for us because as the pig he shot ran off to the right, there were others that had stayed. He was waiting for one of us to back him up, not knowing that David’s gun had been plugged from his fall. Dale and I were too far behind to do any good. We all stopped while Bill and David unplugged the rifle.
The search for the injured pig continued. Bill and I turned and followed the settling dust off to the left, as Dale went slightly ahead and to the right. It was easy to loose your sense of direction in this thicket it was so dense. We had given up the search and met up with David. Dale was no where in sight. We called for him twice, when we heard 2 shots and the call, “I got him.” This pig was not as large as the other, but much prettier. It hadn’t been wallowing in the mud, so you could see it’s colors. It was basically black and brown striped with rich red patches on its head. More photos were taken.
By now, we were ready to head back. We had a long walk ahead of us. The brush had recently been victim to a fire. The ground was still hot, and my clothes were black from the charred brush. The pricker bushes released their seedlings by hitching a ride on my clothes, holding on for dear life by digging their little hooks into my skin. I was dirty, hot, itchy, thirsty and exhausted. Exhaustion was apparent by my tripping and falling over my own useless feet. We crossed the stream at the log I previously crawled across, but a missed calculation caused me to slip, soaking my left foot.
Once again, a shot rang out. Bodies were running everywhere. Dale and I were far enough behind to see the pig running along a ridge to the left. I had the pistol up and ready to shoot, waiting for the pig to come into a clearing it was headed towards. It must have taken a turn to the right, for it never came into view. The next 15 minutes were spent fanning out in search. We never found it.
Daylight and his Toyota was surely a welcome site. Daylight had stayed there by the truck waiting for us for most of the afternoon. Before boarding, I once again was carried across the stream. The men refilled their canteens in the stream. I refused to drink it. I would have died of thirst first before drinking out of that stream. Something was mentioned about cows being forbidden to drink from it (no, how is that possible). They all ran the debate between each other about the dangers of drinking straight from the stream, but David convinced them the water was safe. I still didn’t trust it. I still didn’t trust what I pumped into my body for lunch, so why should I trust this?
Heading back to the station house, Daylight stopped the truck for a moment and David jumped out, pointing to an eagle in a tree. He told us it was a Fork-Tailed Eagle. We stayed and watched the eagle for a while, then, to my dismay, David pulled out his rifle and took a shot at it. I blurt out, “What did you do that for?” His shot missed and the eagle flew away. He told us that these eagles were a nuisance and most station owners didn’t want them around because they killed the lambs and calves. Dale added that he’d see the damage that these birds leave behind.
Continuing on our way, we stopped off every once in a while to drop a feed bag. The feed was fortified with vitamins for the cattle, but the dingoes and wallabies also ate it, making for very healthy dingo and wallabies in these here parts. David told us that the cows won’t eat out of the bags if they are tipped over. They had to be laid out flat, and the front of the bags opened up on 3 sides like a book.
The trip back took long enough to watch the sun set. What a beautiful sunset it was, too. It looked like the African plains, just like Bill described it 2 days ago. Once all the feed bags were deposited, our seats were gone, so I resorted to stand the rest of the way holding on the roll bar. The wind in my face felt good and I told Bill that it was almost as good as being out on a boat, all that was missing was the smell of the water, or sea air.
By now it was dark. No animals crossed our path as we expected they would. The only thing we saw coming out of the bush was Daylight’s tribe all sitting on a flat bed truck. They had just been fishing and were on their way home. They spoke in their native tongue so we couldn’t understand the words spoken between themselves and Daylight. Bill asked me what they were saying. I told him, “That’s Daylight’s wife. He’s telling her he’ll be home shortly and to have dinner ready when he gets there.” Bill laughed and agreed that I was probably right. All that was left for the day was the drive back to town to the Mataranka Homestead Tourist Resort.
What a lively place this was. It was part motel, part caravan (trailer) park. At the main building, al live band was playing and people were on the patio line dancing. Bill and I looked at each other smiling as “Boot Scootin’ Boogie” was playing, but we both knew without saying a word that we were too pooped to boogie.
Our room was a box with one queen size and one twin sized bed. No TV, one radio alarm clock and a small refrigerator. It looked like heaven at this point when David and Dale came over and said we’d have to switch rooms. Their room only had one queen size bed, and they said they weren’t into that kind of thing.
Once settled, we hit the restaurant for a decent meal. Veggies, potatoes and a pile of roast beef went down easier than I thought considering I was eating with my face in my plate. I even joined the guys in a bottle of beer. The beer was only 1/3 down when David said I looked like I was going to drop. He sent me to bed saying, “If you don’t go, we won’t be able to talk about you!” I hit the shower and watched as all the dirt, dust and soot that I was wearing washed down the drain. I immediately felt 3 pounds lighter. My clothes, I was sure of, were ruined, but luckily this place had a Laundromat. I hit the bed, and never heard Bill come in. I never did ask him what their “talk about me” conversation consisted of.
Day Four:
Bill asked me last night if I was going to join them again tomorrow. I told him no, that anyplace that had a live band was most likely big enough to keep me busy for the day. My first priority was to hit the laundry and try to get my black clothes white again. The “Laundromat” was outside -- I should have known. There were two coin operated washing machines. The dryer was a clothesline. I suppose when it’s 90-100º all the time, you really don’t need a dryer. Finding that both washing machines had laundry in them, I resorted to the old washboard style of hand washing in the deep sinks situated next to the machines. No amount of scrubbing is ever going to get these clothes clean again.
Clothes washed, I placed them “in the dryer” for the day, then went to hire a canoe. The canoe cost $8.00 an hour to rent. Thinking that the river would be like the Katherine or the Roper Rivers, I asked for two hours. Getting into the canoe alone with camera, binoculars, sunscreen, water bottles, life vest and two oars was no easy feat for I haven’t been in a canoe in years. The water at the docks was very brackish but looked hopeful around the bend. Once out of the cove, it widened into a clear tropical rain forest. I took pictures of interesting trees, close-ups of birds and even tried shots down into the sun drenched water. I figured I would canoe down river for one hour, as up river looked blocked off by fallen trees, then cruise back up for the next hour. I saw lots of fresh water crocodile splashes as I startled them causing them to jump into the river, but I never actually saw any. To my dismay, after 1/2 hour of canoeing, the river was blocked by a fallen tree. I was beginning to wonder if this was done on purpose so you wouldn’t go beyond the borders of the resort. I probably could have dragged the canoe ashore, walked around the tree stump and dumped it back into the river on the other side, but up ahead didn’t look any better. The water again became brackish with many fallen trees.
I decided to head back upstream and get a better look at the northern end. I was able to zigzag around a few fallen trees and branches, but not for long before I came to a dead end. At the end, I was closed in by palm branches thick on three sides with only room enough to turn the canoe around. It was kind of eerie, but quiet, so I felt fairly safe. Since I still had another hour with the canoe, I decided to repeat the whole trip.
I saw something strange in the water quite a distance ahead bobbing up and down. I couldn’t quite make out what it was, so I pulled out the binoculars. The river hadn’t changed since my last trip down. The same birds were sitting in the same trees, or sunning themselves on the same rocks. The only thing new was this strange thing in the water. The binoculars found two heads staring back at me. They were tourists from the resort who found a quiet, peaceful spot to go swimming. I bid them G’day as I cruised past them continuing my journey.
On my return trip, I decided to explore a small lagoon that branched off to the right. I pulled in as far as I could and sat quietly looking around for movement on the banks. I saw nothing. Suddenly, I heard one low raspy growl. Surprisingly, I wasn’t scared out of my wits. Cautiously and slowly I looked all around me. I saw and heard no movement in the trees. Although I felt fairly safe because I was surrounded by water, I decided to get out of there before I saw what was behind the growl, and before my own imagination got the better of me. So ended my exploration of the “great” Waterhouse River.
Upon returning the life vest and oars, I noticed a board on the wall of the kiosk that noted the movie “We of the Never Never” would be played at 12:00 noon. Since I had the privilege of being at Elsey Station yesterday, I was very interested in seeing the movie. The board didn’t say where in the resort they were showing the movie, but my instincts told me it would probably be at the Elsey Station Homestead Replica.
This was a building reconstructed like the homestead the Gunn’s lived in from 1902 to 1903. It was a post and beam structure of 2 rooms with an open tin roof. The chef’s kitchen was a separate round-shaped building made of corrugated tin. There were also aboriginal shelters of bark and wood on this site.
The verandah surrounded the building on all sides. One side had benches and chairs set up in front of a TV and VCR (ah, must be the movie). The other three sides had boards up with historical information about the station and it’s people. It was named Elsey Station by it’s first owner, Abraham Wallace in 1877 in honor of his Doctor, Joseph Ravenscroft Elsey. The station changed hands 3 times before the Gunns came and has been sold 6 times since. The last sale recorded here in this information was in 1962 to a syndicate of mainly Hong Kong investors. The homestead has been moved and rebuilt 3 time in it’s history. The posts we saw were from the structure built in 1907, but this was not the original homestead as we were told. The first site was selected in 1887. The present site that we had lunch at has been the homestead since 1914. Nowhere in this display of history was there any mention of the building with the ornate tile flooring we saw.
The movie was long, at times boring and didn’t get into much detail. I decided I would try to find the book somewhere. There was a dripping water faucet in the yard behind the TV that was visited by many birds during the 2½ hours I sat watching the movie. Sometimes I was more interested in the birds than the movie. I first noticed the faucet when it had 10 green and red lorikeets perched upon it. I thought this would have been a great picture for Joan, but I didn’t bring my camera with me. The faucet was visited by crows and a common brown bird I didn’t know the name of. The best display was seeing one sulfur-crested cockatoo drink from it for about 15 minutes. He was one beautiful bird. I decided I would come back later in the afternoon to take some pictures in the hopes that the cockatoo would return.
My next trip was down to the thermal pools. Like the one at Katherine, this water stayed a constant 34º C. It was “discovered” in W.W.II and used often by Army personnel for R&R. The whole Northern Territory was a heavy air raid and battle site during the War. After the war, a general decided it could be a profitable investment, so he lined the edges with concrete, put in sidewalks and stairways and opened it to the public. The water comes in from one end to stop for a short visit in the pools before continuing on its journey to the river.
The Mataranka Homestead Resort was originally an experimental station that started with 12,000 sheep, 2,000 cattle and numerous horses. The sheep died from the sharp blade grasses and diseases hit both the sheep and the cows. This station failed, but it was the start of today’s thriving cattle industry of the Northern Territory.
The thermal pool was refreshing. A woman by me stated, “This is a little slice of heaven, isn’t it!” I couldn’t agree with her more. I stayed until it started to get crowded.
I collected my clothes from the “dryer” then decided to cruise the gift shop before heading back to the Elsey Homestead Replica to take pictures of the birds. I bought a few postcards to write while waiting to see if the birds would come back. I was just about to snap a picture of the birds when I saw something coming through the trees in the background. I pulled the camera down to see what it was. A wallaby was making its way to the faucet to get a drink. I sat very still and watched it come in closer and closer. When he hit the fountain, I hit my camera. Wallabies were very common around here as you could tell by the number of droppings on the ground. It’s like Canada Geese at home. I took more pictures of the Lorikeets, but the cockatoo never came back.
Where I was sitting wasn’t far from the road, so I was able to spot the guys coming back. I went up to meet them and told Bill that I was just about to go back into the thermal pool. He joined me and told me about his day. They went back to the Red Lily Lagoon. There were no pigs, but with the help of an ultra-light, a feral water buffalo was spotted and shot by Dale. Bill said he was behind Dale’s video camera taking pictures of the whole thing. The ultra-light would come down and the pilot would yell and point down to an area. Daylight and the guys who were in the Toyota would then follow the ultra-light to the sighting. I heard the word ultra-light and wished I had been up there in it. That would have been the absolute best of this whole trip, not that I didn’t enjoy the day I had. Unfortunately, this was the way the hunt went all week. We didn’t know from one minute to the next what our plans were. This apparently is an Australian trait. David had warned Bill that Australian’s aren’t ones for giving detail, and he sure followed through with that statement.
David wanted to bring us out for a nice dinner because he thought the meals here at the resort were too expensive. We got ready and waited outside our room for him and Dale only to find out they locked themselves out of their room. This wouldn’t have been so bad except that the keys to the truck were in the room. It took close to 2 hours to get in, between finding and waiting for the manager to get there, and finding the right key amongst three different key rings.
While we were waiting, Dale and David noticed a wallaby on the lawn in front of our rooms. It was just after dusk and difficult to see. Bill and I thought we’d try to catch it. He was able to get close enough to it to have it smell his hand. He even got to pet it a bit. I tried to pet it, barely touching it before it jumped away. We played “tag” with it for quite a while before he ran for cover beyond a fence. They are so cute.
I WANT ONE.
Everyone was FINALLY ready for dinner. As hard as we tried, somehow dinner was never served before bedtime. It was too late to go for the steak dinner like originally planned, so we ended up at the local gas/deli for fried chicken and French fries: wonderfully greasy stuff that made Bill sick for 2 days. He said it was the greasy food, I said it was that water out of the stream that I refused to drink. It really was hard to tell because I didn’t eat nearly as much chicken and fries as he did.
Day Five:
We were up bright and early the next morning for our 6 hour trip back to Darwin. I did a lot of writing trying to catch up on the last 2 days. There has been no time or energy to keep up to date. This first stop was in Katherine for “morning tea”. Bill and I had no more Australian currency and the bakery wouldn’t accept American, so Bill had to run across the street to the bank. It took him over 20 minutes to exchange a $20.00 bill. They made him fill out all sorts of forms and almost wouldn’t do it at all until he asked for his $20.00 back.
Back on the road, we made 2 more stops before coming into Darwin. One was for refreshments and the other was to see Charlie. Charlie was the water buffalo that was in the movie “Crocodile Dundee”. His horns were close to 12 feet in length from tip to tip. He was very docile and even came up to us for a scratch on the head.
Finally, we hit Darwin. This was quite a difference from the outback. A real city, with traffic and everything. Darwin was completely destroyed in 1974 by tropical storm “Tracy”. It’s a completely new and modern city now.
The guys went out for an early evening hunt, and I decided to go shopping. It was about 4:00 so first I looked through brochures to make reservations for something to do tomorrow. I decided to go to the “Northern Territory Wildlife Park” in the morning, and then do the Darwin City Tour in the afternoon. All reservations made, I then went to the mall. It was a brick “street” that had no traffic, with benches and trees running down the middle. A park-like setting surrounded by stores and banks.
My first stop was to the Foreign Exchange. I exchanged $300.00 in five minutes, as compared to Bill’s fiasco of $20.00 in twenty minutes this morning. I went through three or four souvenir shops getting stuff for Mom and the four kids when it looked like everything was closing up. The next store I went to, I asked the proprietor if he was closing, as he was pulling down the gates. He said yes, but I could go in and look around. I felt rushed anyway, so I only made a quick look. It was now 6:00, I had only bought stuff for 3 of the five people I wanted to buy for and I knew I would be sight seeing on tours all day tomorrow. This was it. I had no more time to go souvenir shopping.
Knowing that the guys were out hunting, I didn’t figure they’d be home before 9:00 so I bought my own dinner and brought it back to the motel. I had heard so much this past week about barramundi; it’s practically a staple here, so I decided to buy it at the “Barramundi Bar”. I got 2 filets of grilled barramundi and a large salad -- with beets in it -- another staple here apparently, because we’ve had beets served on or with everything. After dinner, I took a dip in the pool.
Wouldn’t you know it - 7:30 and Bill and the guys are back. They were going for that steak dinner they wanted yesterday. That figures, since I just ate. I declined and stayed in the motel to re-arrange myself as to what souvenirs I needed to get for whom. When Bill returned, he joined me in another swim. They had dinner down at the wharf and while they were eating, saw a porpoise jump in the water. Another thing I missed. First the ultra-light, and now this. When I told Bill that I declined because I assumed they were eating somewhere around the motel, he said he thought so, too. This Australian and his lack of details is beginning to drive me crazy. The adventure of the unknown is O.K., but not as a constant.
Day Six:
This is our last vacationing day in Australia. In some ways I’m glad it’s over, and in others I wished it would never end. David got sick last night, (in Dale’s words, “We have one sick puppy in there!”) so Dale took Bill out hunting on his own. Bill almost threw the towel in and came to the Wildlife Park with me, but then decided to get the last of his money’s worth of hunting.
The ride to the wildlife park took 45 minutes. The bus driver played tour guide on the way pointing out many interesting facts and trivia about Darwin:
The traffic we saw backed up coming from the Northern section of Darwin, and from Palmerstown, Darwin’s only suburb, was non-existent 5 years ago.
The palm trees planted along the sides of the road are ??? (forgot their name).palms. They are native to southern Australia and are shipped up here. They use these trees in landscaping because they grow 2 meters every 12 months.
Darwin is separated into two sections: The Northern section and Central City. They are divided by the airport in the middle, and are not connected at all in any way.
Darwin has a naval base (RAN) and an air force base (RAAF). The navy base is completely landlocked, and the air force base is on the coast, surrounded by water on three sides.
The railroad heading south out of Darwin that follows Stuart Highway is no longer in use, but some of the railway stations are still standing. We drove by one that had an engine in front.
There were flat strips of dirt road that were seen on one side of the highway that stretched for miles. These were landing strips for aircraft during W.W.II. This area was heavily involved in air battles with Japan during the war. The airstrips are no longer maintained.
We arrived at the wildlife park 15 minutes early, so instead of having us wait in the bus, the driver brought us to the Berry Springs Nature Park. It was a nice green park with picnic tables and a path down to the springs. The driver had told us that at one time they wanted to connect Berry Springs with the Wildlife Park by an aerial tram, but the proper funds didn’t come through.
The Nature Park was nice, but a great disappointment. I am too used to the Bronx Zoo with its newer and larger exhibits. This park was large area wise. I walked most of it, about three miles, but the actual exhibits were small. I’d walk, then see a small caged or fenced area with an animal or two, then walk again to another exhibit. Each exhibited feature was approximately 100-200 meters (??? feet) apart. I got to see everything except the bugs (yuck anyway), reptiles and the nocturnal exhibit. I did want to see the nocturnal one, especially the flying foxes. I probably did have enough time to quickly run through the exhibit, but was nervous about missing the bus. I hadn’t quite gotten the hang of figuring out how long it takes to walk so many meters.
It took me a complete hour to walk through the Avery and Rain Forest. I saw my first Kookaburra here. The next stop was the Eagle Exhibit. Trainers came out and talked about the Forked-Tailed Eagle and the Sea Eagle. I was interested in the Forked-Tailed Eagle after seeing Dale try to shoot one down two days before at Elsey Station. They said here that up until 1970, these eagles were open game because the station workers believed the eagles were killing all the baby lambs. They came to realize that it wasn’t the eagles, but the foxes that were doing all the damage. Now, station owners are welcoming the eagles back because they prey on rabbits, feral cats and foxes. And, the statement I was waiting to hear: All eagles are now protected. You can get arrested if caught shooting one. Totally confused now, I mentioned this to Bill later that evening and he said, “I guess it’s all in who you’re talking to.”
The exhibit I liked the best was the “Care and Raising” section. It was a nursery where they took care of injured and orphaned animals. They had a lot of birds, an infant wallaby and two yearling wallabies. I got to pet the yearlings. One of them held onto my arm and started licking and nibbling my wrist.
I WANT ONE. An attendant came out a few minutes later to feed them and explained to everyone what type of formula they drink and what to do if you find one. If you see a wallaby that’s been injured (usually struck by a car), the first thing to do is check for a joey. Then get it to a warm and safe place and call the authorities. She suggested wrapping the joey in towels or blankets with a heating pad under it. She also stressed that you not allow your children to handle it a lot, as the handling and fuss is very foreign to them and can cause them extreme stress.
My last stop was the aquarium. They had the usual pond, lagoon and local salt water exhibits with fish that are indigenous to this area. There was also a salt water crocodile. He was huge - 6 feet in length, not including the tail. Being clean, and not covered in algae, this crocodile was a very light yellow in coloring, almost white with touches of green on the outer edges of his scales. I wasn’t sure at first if it was real, as it didn’t move and the coloring surprised me. He blinked, and then I knew.
The last section of the aquarium was a lexan/Plexiglas tunnel. At 12:00 noon, a scuba diver jumped in to hand feed the fish and stingrays. It was cool seeing the fish swim over your head, then at eye level, take the food from the scuba diver’s hand. The kids went nuts over this.
As I said before, I missed the nocturnal exhibit. I wished I was able to stay because at 2:30 they had a lecture specifically about the flying foxes. My bus was to leave at 12:30, though, so I caught the tram to the main building.
The ride home was quiet, no guided tour this time. It was so quiet in fact, that I fell asleep. The air-conditioned bus also helped after all that walking in that sweltering heat. The bus driver woke me up saying, “Diane, isn’t this where you get off?”
I thought I would go into the pool but Bill was back when I got there. I completely scrapped the city tour as I still had souvenir shopping to do, so Bill and I went shopping together. I first showed him how easy it was to exchange money when you go to the right place. We then tried to find the Post Office. Street signs were well marked out pointing the direction, but we didn’t recognize it. Well, no wonder. It looked just like a shopping mall. There were restaurants and other stores in the entrance hall. Once inside, there were racks of souvenirs, stationery, Christmas cards, collectors’ stamps along with the usual packaging materials, boxes and envelopes. Even the checkout counter didn’t look like any post office we have at home. It had glass counters with display cases and gifts displayed on the back wall. I felt like I was in Macy’s or G. Fox, not a Post Office.
All the postage stamps were pre-packaged and marked:
US Letter/US Postcard Indonesia Letter/Indonesia Postcard
Europe Letter/Europe Postcard Africa Letter/Africa Postcard
I’m still not sure I bought the right stamps because at the Mataranka Resort, regular stamps were $1.00 and airmail was $1.20. Here, they were $1.05 for a letter, and 95¢ for a postcard. Maybe the location of where you’re posting from makes the difference. Well, if anyone gets their postcards with postage-due, I’ll know what happened. Or, if they arrive three months from now, I’ll know they didn’t go airmail. (NOTE: Everyone, all three people, did get their postcards). I don’t know if airmail even exists anymore. As we were leaving Chicago, I was watching the luggage being put into the cargo holds. One baggage truck was full of US Mail. You can’t tell me that every letter in every one of those cartons had an airmail stamp on it.
Finally, we made it back to the Smith Street Mall where we shopped ‘til we dropped. We had to be back to the motel by 6:00 as David was bringing us to feed the fish. Every high tide brings thousands of fish in to shore where you get to throw them lumps of bread to feed on. There were 3 types of fish (Diamond Scaled Mullet, Catfish, and Milkfish) and two rays (Common Shovel Nosed Ray and Blue Spotted Fantail Ray). I wanted to see the jelly fish that are so poisonous and prevalent to this area, but there weren’t any. This activity became quite popular as a tourist attraction. The dock was built up as cement steps or bleachers. There was also a photographer’s tower which was the upper deck of a ship. They had the usual refreshment/gift stand as well. It was neat having all these fish practically eating out of your hand. It was like 1000 Madisons with a better attitude. Eat your heart out, Madison.
When we were done feeding the fish, David brought us back to the wharf where they went for dinner last night. All up and down the pier was every possible eatery you could imagine. Bill, Dale and I ordered barramundi, David had a buffalo burger. Dave’s burger came and went in 10 minutes. We waited over one hour for our barramundi dinners, and after all that waiting, it wasn’t as good as the meal I had last night. Our table was right at the edge of the pier, literally. There was no bar, fence or barricade of any type to keep you from falling 20 feet down in to the water. There was a lot of stuff like that here -- no ‘don’t touch’ this, and ‘don’t do’ thats -- not like in America. We had mentioned this earlier and Dale said it was because Americans are too litigation happy. How true.
We thought this was the end of our night, but David had one more surprise in store for us. We hopped in the truck and headed for another area along the coast. First, a wrong turn brought us into the ritzy-ritzy area. These home were beautiful. Getting back on track, we passed a number of apartment complexes that David called “boxes”. Our destination was the East Point Reserve. At night, hundreds of wallabies come out. We didn’t see many. Maybe 10 pockets with 5-6 wallabies in each pack. Dave said that in another hour or so they’d be out in droves. Apparently it’s so wallaby populated here, that early every morning they have to make a “road-kill clean-up” run. He also said that no one knows where they came from, but stayed here and just multiplied to this current population.
So ends our experiences in Australia, except for the flight back. Overall, Bill was disappointed in the hunt. He didn’t get “The Bang for His Buck” that was advertised. He did enjoy Australia, as I did, too. We both feel that we have experienced something that no one we know of would ever have the chance to. We did more than play tourist. We saw and experienced more than a lot of native Australians have.
The trip home.
Whoops. We goofed. We thought our flight was at 6:45 a.m. It was at 6:15 so we had to fly out of the motel and to the airport. Not a moment too soon. They had the plane wait for us. I hate that. I hate having things delayed just because of me. In actuality, we lifted off right on time. The flight from Darwin to Sydney took 5 hours. Breakfast was egg omelets. Once in Sydney, we had 2 hours or so we thought to catch our plane to L.A. The airline hostess even announced that those with connecting international flights had plenty of time.
We didn’t dawdle around, but we didn’t rush either. We went to baggage claim and got our luggage, then over to ticketing. Bill found out we had to go to the international desk at the other side of the airport for ticketing on United. They told him a shuttle would come by to bring us there. We waited at least 45 minutes for the shuttle which had to drive out of the airport, go around and drive back in. This took another 20 minutes or more. We were left off at “B Terminal” and we still had to get to “C Terminal”. Not only that, but United was at the very end of “C Terminal”. We had to walk past all 59 of B’s baggage check stations, then 40 of C’s. Once in line for ticketing, we waited about 2 minutes when the agent behind the counter called to us, “You’re not waiting for flight 816 are you? You’re too late, we can’t let you on.” When we told her that we just got here from landing in Sydney and that it was the shuttle that took so long, they once again held the plane for us. They quickly checked Bill’s firearms to make sure they weren’t loaded and rushed us onto the plane.
All of this rushing and finding our way around and having ANOTHER plane held up for us stressed me completely. I broke when we got on the plane and found out that Bill and I would be separated by 16 rows for the 12 hour flight. The plane was packed with kids running around and yelling. The stewardesses wouldn’t do a thing to see if we could be seated closer together. You couldn’t stretch out at all because the plane was so full. On top of all this, as the plane was going down the runway, it shook and swayed like pulling a travel trailer without sway bars. Once off the ground, it kept on swaying. I was imagining 12 hours of swaying, or not making it back to the U.S. at all.
Luckily, once we leveled off, the swaying stopped. Except for a lot of low level air turbulence, the flight wasn’t too bad, just noisy and crowded. And, even more surprising, the landing went smoothly.
Cyndy Geier was meeting us when we landed. There was at least an hour’s worth of customs declaring before meeting Cyndy. As we wound our way through all the halls and rooms during our customs “exercise”, I couldn’t see how Cyndy would ever find us. Customs wasn’t long at all since the majority of the plane was visitors. We were two of about twenty people coming back home. We ended up in the wrong line -- Permanent Residents, instead of Citizens, but it didn’t matter because the three agents there were handling both lines anyway. Two more claims desks were visited, and all they said was, “Welcome Home!”
As we came through the doors to the main lobby, there was Cyndy waiting for us. She said she went to so many places trying to find us, that she knew the airport pretty well now. This was to her advantage as she had to come back tomorrow to pick up T from his flight in from Paris. Cyndy stayed with us for the whole five our layover. We looked through photo albums, including one she gave to me, and did a lot of talking. The biggest news was that Romy got married to Limey. Imagine that. Only four months after her supposed wedding date with Rocky, to guy who was supposed to be is best man. I sure am glad Rocky didn’t marry her. I just wish he didn’t get out of it in such a drastic, final way.
The rest of our flight was uneventful except for Bill expecting to get fed on our last two hour flight from Chicago to Hartford. The poor guy nearly starved to death J. We only had four meals from Australia to L.A., and then another meal and snack from L.A. to Chicago.
All luggage collected, the shuttle came to bring us to the Bradley International Inn for our nights stay. The desk clerk asked if we wanted a wake-up call. Knowing we needed all the sleep we could get, we declined. I don’t think it took us an hour to unpack our “necessaries”, prepare, get to bed and fall asleep. I awoke with the phone ringing. It was the front desk clerk wanting to know if we were checking out at noon. I asked her what time it was, and she replied, “10 of”. We slept 12 hours!
I’m finishing this journal up, finally, three days later. Jet lag is still haunting us both, but gradually weaning. I guess we’re homebound for awhile now. No more money, and no more vacation time left -- until next year...
