Closer encounters with the wild

Nothing can adequately prepare the first-time visitor to Kakadu for the thrill of experiencing at close hand birds and crocodiles in the wild.

It's an experience we’ll never forget.

We stayed a single night at Gagadju Lodge park in Cooinda, about 250 kilometres east of Darwin.

It meant towing our van east via the Arnhem Highway to Jabiru (near the Ranger uranium mine) and then taking the Kakadu Highway south west to Cooinda.

Our first breathtaking contact was just off the highway en route to Jabiru at a place called Mamukala.

It was around noon with the temperature hovering at 39 degrees.

A short walk took us to a slightly elevated viewing platform. From there a vast wetland unfolded populated by birdlife in variety and number too large to count.

Wetland at Mamukala.

Birds, birds and more birds

They included magpie geese, jabiru, ducks, pelicans, brolgas, darts, kingfishers and many other species, feeding on plants and insects, making hay while the sun shone, as the wetland slowly shrunk in the ‘build-up’ to the big wet.

We were spellbound by the birds’ activity, as they splashed about and foraged among the lily pads and other vegetation for food, seemingly oblivious to our presence.

Our second contact occurred the following day when we took a two-hour cruise on the South Alligator River and Yellow Waters lagoon.

We were surprised by the numbers of crocodiles and birds that appeared, disappeared and reappeared on land and in the water as the boat wound its way along the river and lake.

Right, above and below: crocs in and on the banks of the South Alligator river.

I should mention that Alligator River is a misnomer. There are no alligators in Australia.

Our guide said alligators, which have broader snouts are native to China and America. Estuarine crocodiles are much more aggressive than alligators and will take down animals much bigger than themselves, including brumbies (wild horses).

Crocodile country

Lots of birds, especially ducks seemed to be quite happy to be in fairly close proximity to the crocs – because they can see them. It’s the crocs that can’t be seen that are dangerous, because they know exactly where you are and will stalk you constantly.

The cruise also introduced us to birdlife we hadn’t seen before – like the small but very pretty Jesus Bird, which appears to walk on water, but actually walks with enormous feet on lily pads.

After the cruise we decided to move on as we really want to be on the west coast of Western Australia and heading south before the ‘big wet’ commences in November.

We continued on the Kakadu Highway to where it joins the Stuart Highway, turned south to Katherine to refuel and then took the Victoria Highway west.

After about 600 kilometres, we decided to stay overnight at the Victoria River Roadhouse park, at the start of the spectacular East Kimberley region, but still more than 300 kilometres from the NT-Western Australian border.

Jesus Bird.

Carol has been cooking our evening meal the day before and refrigerating it, which is just as well because at the end of these long drives we are in no mood for cooking.

Jabiru and ducks.

Starry, starry night…

It was late in the evening at this park that we had our first view of a firmament so bright with stars that we could only gaze in wonder.

If it weren’t for fear of the odd mosquito we would have camped out under the stars, because it was an extremely hot night.

Victoria River near Timber Creek.

Next day we left early for Kununurra in Western Australia, a journey of close to 400 kilometres, stopping only to refuel at Timber Creek, a hamlet noted for barramundi fishing and for charging preposterous prices for fuel, including autogas ($1.22 a litre compared to 49 cents in Sydney).

The East Kimberley rock formations have made their mark on us, for their incredible variety and majesty.

An East Kimberley rock formation shot from the roadside.

Some of the formations are crenellated, like Crusader citadels; others are like stepped temples that would make Montezuma proud; some with their high walls are reminiscent of the Red Fort in Delhi; others evoke memory of tall and convoluted Hindu temple architectures; and still others the cracked and broken teeth of an ancient behemoth. And the ochre colours are most striking: reds and yellows with green vegetation that change hue with the movement of the sun.

One can only gape and gasp, as no human hand can replicate the rhythm and artistry of these 350-million years old shapes.

My only regret was that towing a caravan on narrow sections of the highway prevented camera stops.

Historic Durack homestead built of local sandstone, disassembled and reassembled piece by piece on high ground after the Ord River was dammed to form Argyle Lake.

On the way to Kununurra we were subjected to the most invasive quarantine check. The officer went through our van with a fine-tooth comb, appropriating bottles of honey, onions, mandarins, tomatoes and even banana peels from our rubbish bin for destruction. Their big concern is spread of the fruit fly and disease. Naturally we cooperated fully.

Kununurra escapes

A three-night stay at Kununurra (pop. 5000) gave us the opportunity to explore nearby Argyle Lake, built years ago by damming the Ord River to irrigate some 70,000 hectares of farmland. The lake contains 12 times the amount of water as Sydney Harbour.

Lake Argyle.

We also took time out to visit Wyndham (pop. 800), Western Australia’s northern-most town, 100 kilometres north of Kununurra and only 712 kilometres from East Timor.

Although a significant port for exporting live cattle, Wyndham really is a god-forsaken place, stretched out in withering spring heat on the edge of crocodile infested tidal flats, its townscape deep-frozen in the 1940s.

Boab Tree in downtown Wyndham.

Wyndham has its claim to fame of course, for being the region where five rivers – the King, the Durack, the Pentecost, the Ord and the Forrest – join; for being where Charles Kingsford Smith flew in on his history-making journey from England in 1933; for being bombed by the Japanese during WWII; and for a long established meatworks forced to close in 1986 when it became financially unviable. The town’s economy never really recovered.

However, the Bastion, a precipitous lookout, offers visitors sweeping views of the area, which unfortunately for us was blanketed by a huge smoke haze.

Hazy view of the entrance to Wyndham's port from the Bastion.

Time to move on to Halls Creek and beyond.