After a riot of red, Broome sweeps into view

Motoring through the Kimberleys gives a whole new meaning to 'seeing red'.

The hills can change from orange to a deep red; the earth is red; your socks and feet are a dusty red; as is your car and caravan.

A hill typical of what is seen on the Savannah Way in the Kimberleys.

Even your eyes turn red – but that’s from driving too much into the late afternoon sun.

At last we’re in Broome, after a 1,120-kilometre journey from Kununurra through savannah, Kimberley hills and over lots of dry creek beds.

Kimberley landscape.

On the first leg we had intended an overnight stay at Hall’s Creek, a tiny Aboriginal township with a gold mining history.

However, we found ourselves making good time and decided to stop at Fitzroy Crossing, 650 kilometres from Kununurra.

Lunch under a boab tree.

Fitzroy Crossing is on the Fitzroy River that flows nearly 800 kilometres from the West Kimberley into King Sound just south of Derby.

Derby dance

We resisted the urge to go sightseeing and next day, with a strong tail wind drove 250 kilometres to Derby, which was once a cattle port.

Derby (pronounced Dirby) is a bland little town with enormous tidal flats and some of the biggest tides in the world.

In the bad old days Aborigines were paid with clothing, biscuits and lollies (but never money), for the arduous and dangerous task of loading cattle into ships at low tide.

This albino peacock made lots of friends at our van park in Derby.

Today Derby is a port for exporting nickel and lead.

Our stay was enlivened by the appearance of a beautiful albino peacock belonging to the park, which entertained us for several minutes by parading and dancing.

The dance kept us spellbound.

But Broome, 220 kilometres west, beckoned and next morning we departed early, eager to discover what makes the town so popular.

Broome airport at your door

The first thing that hits you on arrival is the proximity of the airport. The runway looks like another road out of the town centre.

The upside is that visitors can be in town and downing their first cold beer within a few minutes of stepping off the plane.

Downtown Broome.

The downside is that when a big jet comes in to land you feel you can almost reach up and touch its wheels, which is a bit scary.

Broome (pop. 14,000) is one of the most remote towns of its size in the world. As the crow it’s flies 1,107 kilometres from Darwin; 1,682 kilometres from Perth; 3,380 kilometres from Sydney; and 2,117 kilometres from Bali.

Two views of Cable Beach, above and below.

It has an interesting shopping and restaurant precinct, a China Town and cosmopolitan population that reflects the Malay, Chinese, Japanese and Koepang participation in pearling industry of early last century.

Glitzy would probably be too strong a word, but Broome has a newness about it that reflects a big investment in town planning and tourism.

Cable Beach with its long, clean, white sandscape reminiscent of Stockton Beach between Newcastle and Port Stephens, lives up to its reputation.

A small banded sea snake washed up on Cable Beach, awaiting the next tide. We found another, much larger sea snake in a similar situation.

We were surprised to find a roaring trade in hire gear -- beach umbrella $4 an hour or $12 for the day, or a deck chair for $2 an hour ($6 for the day). But it makes sense given that most people travel light.

In World War II Japanese Zeros strafed Broome, then an important refuelling depot, destroying 22 aircraft including 15 flying boats at anchorage. Ground fire downed two Zeros.

The number of northern Australian towns encountered on this trip that were attacked by the Japanese during that war continues to amaze us.

Collyn Rivers still going strong

It was a delight to be able to call on an old journalist friend Collyn Rivers who has built a solar-powered, cyclone-proof home on 10 acres facing the ocean just north of Broome near the road to Cape Leveque.

A huge array of solar panels feeds power to 16 large batteries that provide all the power he and his wife Maarit need on their property.

The system also pumps a constant supply of spring water into his swimming pool obviating the need for chemicals.

Collyn on his unicycle. Note the beach view in the background.

Collyn, who is approaching 80 years of age, is a technical journalist of note.

For many years he was editor of Electronics Today International and has written several books including The Campervan and Motorhome Book, Solar that Really Works and Motorhome Electrics. Needless to say he’s an off-road camping guru.

Beachfront of Collyn's cyclone-proof home. Note the steel staunchions that are embedded in large concrete blocks. Solar array provides all the power the Rivers need.

We had a long and stimulating conversation on topics ranging from our days in journalism to the future of Aboriginal communities – three years ago he completed a program in Aboriginal Studies at Notre Dame University (Broome campus). Maarit meanwhile is doing a Masters in Psychology.

During the conversation he took a call from the ABC for an interview on rust proofing cars!

A gymnast in his youth and long-time yoga practitioner, Collyn rides a unicycle for exercise.

How about this pool!

He’s an inspiration for those of us who think we are ‘past it’.

More about Broome later – daughter Louise and her family will join us for a few days next week when the real fun will begin.

Postscript: What a delight to run into vannies Kathy Farren-Price and her partner Russell Bitcon in Broome. We last saw them in Cardwell, Queensland. He was the guy who kindly broke into our caravan when we lost our keys.

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.

Frontier town has class

Darwin has the hallmarks of a frontier town: gun shops, 4WDs, sex shops and pubs in numbers seemingly out of all proportion to its population of around 120,000.

But once you get past first impressions (and the heat) you find a mature, multifaceted and elegant city.

Carol, Pam and Kay at Wangi Falls in Litchfield National Park.

It’s also on a big growth curve – it has the fastest growing population in Australia if you include Palmerston and Litchfield -- with demand for housing outstripping supply.

There’s lots of work here and my advice to any young person struggling to make a quid in the south is, get up here now.

Mitchell St, where the action is at night.

When the sun goes down, the action erupts.

Night life action

Mitchell Street on Friday nights is like Sydney’s The Rocks on New Years Eve – with the pubs, bars, clubs and restaurants packed with backpackers, workers and tourists watching the footy or just hanging out.

We were able to share the fun with relatives of Carol’s who visited us for a week, staying in cabins in our park: her sister Kay and her husband Paul from Brisbane, and cousin Pam and her husband Peter from Cairns.

Kay, Carol, Paul and Pam at the Military Museum.

In the meantime, my old employer IIR was holding its annual petroleum conference SEAAOC at the Darwin Convention Centre, which provided me with an opportunity to catch up with some of the team.

Richard Beattie kindly invited Carol and me to join them for dinner at the Crocosaurus – an enormous aquarium and reptile showcase featuring crocs that look like they would gladly have you for dinner if you happened to fall into their enclosure.

Carol stayed with the rellies, but for me it was a pleasure to be able to reconnect with people I hadn't seen since I retired in January.

My old workmates, from left: James, Luke, Rosie, Jenna, Jonno, Kathryn (foreground), Richard and NT Government rep Brian Cann. Seated at an adjoining table was Peta Ottey.







Albino croc and below, Barramundi at Crocosaurus.






Pristine natural springs

Brian Cann, an NT Government representative at our table recommended we start our national park ventures with Berry Springs.

What a beautiful clear place to swim. But it was only the beginning. We subsequently drove on excellent bitumen roads to Litchfield National Park and bathed at Wangi Falls and Buley Rockhole – remarkable for their natural beauty and pristine waters.

One is advised not to do this after the Big Wet, because estuarine crocodiles find their way in. Crocodiles are extremely efficient, silent and patient predators. They’ll go for many days without eating but when the time is right…crunch!

Paul and Kay, in the mood for celebrating 42 years of marriage at Buley Rocks. Whew!

There’s a lot to investigate in Darwin itself, but you do need a car. In fact if you don’t have a car in the Northern Territory you’re nowhere.

Who would have thought the place was bombed to smithereens in WWII, rebuilt and then demolished by Cyclone Tracy in 1974? There are lots of reminders built into the information booths, museums, parks and gardens.

Silent guns

At the East Point Military Museum we were fascinated by the story of Darwin’s preparedness (or ill-preparedness) for Japanese attacks. Preparations included the building of massive shore batteries including 9.2in. guns that were never used. The emplacements are still there if you like climbing around concrete bunkers.

Darwin suffered 64 air raids, the first by 188 aircraft in February, 1942, killing 243 people. Ten U.S. Kittyhawk fighters diverted to protect the town were all shot down and it wasn’t until Spitfires from Britain were brought into the fray the following year that Darwin was able to gain air superiority.

Energised by what was in that museum, Paul and I visited the Australian Aviation Heritage Centre, which contains all manner of aircraft including a fully intact B-52 bomber painted a nefarious black, around which we had a fascinating guided tour.

Tolmer falls.

Another trip took us to the Darwin Museum and Art Gallery, which contains a graphic film and presentations of how the city was destroyed by winds of up to 300 kilometres an hour, killing 60 people and causing three quarters of the population to be evacuated.

It’s an ill wind…

I remember that time well because two journalists, Rob Dingle and Chris Lindsay, who worked on the local newspaper, found themselves working with me for a short time on The Australian in Sydney and became firm friends. Rob has since died but I still keep in touch with Chris.

To look at the modern, bustling city of Darwin today it’s hard to believe that only 35 years ago it was material for the rubbish tip.

One of the most astonishing and interesting events we attended in Darwin was the Mindil Beach Sunset Markets. Here we found ourselves among hundreds of people who brought their own fold up chairs and bottles of wine to savour a diverse cuisine, watch the sun go down and listen to wild didgeridoo music.

Sunset at Mindil Beach sunset markets.

The event is obviously of interest to young Indigenous folk, of whom one performed a dance with such energy and passion that I thought her limbs would fly off. Needless to say she received deafening applause.


Happy anniversary!

Just after Pam and Peter left, Paul and Kay had their 42nd wedding anniversary and invited us to help them celebrate with a harbour cruise.

Paul and Kay at the Darwin Sailing Club.

This really topped off our visit, for it gave us a completely new perspective of Darwin.

We took the ferry from Cullen Bay Marina, a locked, man-made waterway for luxury yachts and motor boats, and featuring rows of restaurants and shops.

Leaving Cullen Bay Marina.

Our boat had to exit the marina via locks designed to protect the waterway levels from tidal activity outside.

Once outside, we had a fantastic wide angle view from Darwin city to ConocoPhillips' LNG processing facility at Wickham Point that produces three million tonnes of LNG per year from the Bayu-Undan field in the Timor Sea.


Cullen Bay Marina lock.

Darwin grows on you. But all good things must come to a close.

After Paul and Kay departed from Brisbane we had the car checked and decided to get under way ourselves, particularly as the wet season is approaching.




Darwin wharf, where we had a delicious seafood lunch.


Our plan is to spend a little time in Kakadu and then head down to Katherine before turning west.

Knock, knock, knocking on Darwin's door

We’re finally in Darwin after a seeming eternity of travelling from Mt Isa.

It’s a relief to be able to rest for a while, not that we’ve been particularly under the hammer.

Darwin Harbour viewed from near Parliament House.

We have found it exhilarating and humbling to experience the vastness of the Queensland and Northern Territory outback.

Our old Pajero deserves a good pat on the bonnet for towing our van thus far – around 3,000 kilometres from Cairns and nearly 6,000 kilometres from Sydney, without a snort of complaint.

View of Darwin from an East End park.

We’ve been through a lot of flat countryside; we’ve seen savannah and bush, but no desert; the stops along the way are full of history; and we’ve met some delightful fellow vannies.

We have been amazed at the number of caravans, motor homes and campervans on these outback roads.

They would represent 90 per cent of the traffic – the other 10 per cent would be road trains, to which we have given a wide berth.

Fifty-five metre road trains at Dunmarra. Note the army tank aboard the middle train.

Caravanning is such a big industry I’m surprised at the paucity of facilities for them in this day and age.

Roadhouse rage

The investment in some rigs is enormous with many retirees cashed up and rarin’ to spend (not like us working to a tight budget).

The roadhouses, which are independently owned monopolies, and on which you are dependent for fuel, rip you off at the bowser while providing only the bare minimum in terms of amenities.

I could go on but won’t get off the track (so to speak).

Our first overnight stay after driving on the Barkly Highway from Mt Isa through Camooweal was at the Barkly Homestead (the less said the better).

Next day we drove 200 km to Tennant Creek, a mostly Aboriginal town, on the Stuart Highway that links Adelaide with Darwin. We would love to have stayed but decided to press on for an overnight stay at the Dunmarra roadhouse just south of Daly Waters, to be closer to Darwin.

When we arrived in mid-afternoon it was 44 deg in the shade and still 38 deg at 5.30pm. There was nothing for it but to have a cold shower and a beer.

Our next leg took us to Katherine, but not before diversions at Daly Waters and Mataranka.

Our van parked near the old Air Force hangar at Daly Waters.


Daly diversion

Daly Waters is a threadbare curiosity today, but is famous for where the explorer John McDouall Stuart in attempting to cross Australia in 1861-62 found his first waterhole; for its establishment as a key post of the Overland Telegraph Line in 1872; and as a World War II Air Force base.

Carol at the historic Daly Waters pub.

I found the old hangar which is now a museum particularly interesting. During the War the place was a hive of activity, was visited by General Douglas MacArthur and hosted all manner of aircraft including B-17 Flying Fortresses, Mitchell and Hudson bombers, P-40s, Wirraways, Kittyhawks and Spitfires (if you’re into aircraft).

Mataranka is a lot more lively and we simply had to spend a couple of hours there to experience the famous hot springs and inspect a replica of Elsey Homestead, subject of Jeannie Gunn’s book We of the Never Never, which I’d finished reading a few weeks previous.

Elsey Homestead of 'We of the Never Never' fame.

The hot springs are simply amazing: the water bubbles out of deep limestone cavities and into a creek so you are bathing in constantly running, crystal clear, pristine water.

I bought a small painting of a fish done in oils from an Aborigine for $10 which I thought was infinitely better value than the $12 barra burger bought for lunch at the springs.

Carol enjoying Mataranka's hot springs.

Four days fun

It was on to Katherine, where we stayed four days in a very pleasant caravan park before making the final journey to Darwin.

Katherine is a great little town, with a large Aboriginal population and lots of activity generated from nearby Tindal Air Force Base. It too, has delightful hot springs that we sampled.

South-north rail line linking Port Augusta with Darwin.

The highlight was a boat tour of spectacular Katherine Gorge, which is supposed to be full of freshwater crocodiles, but we didn’t see any. We did see bats and tiny Fairy Martin birds fly in and out of their beehive-like mud nests on the ceiling of the gorge caves.

Springvale Homestead.

We went on a long walk in the heat to visit the Springvale Homestead built of sandstone by Alfred Giles in 1878 after 19 months of droving 12,000 sheep and 2,500 cattle from South Australia.

Giles was a smart: he’d previously worked on the Overland Telegraph Line and recognised the potential for grazing.

Life must have been pretty tough for these pioneers. You can’t imagine how hot it gets in the afternoons and spring has only just begun.

Peacock at Adelaide River.

En route to Darwin we took a 67 kilometre scenic route from Pine Creek to Adelaide River, a lumpy and bumpy ride, but taking us through fields of giant termite mounds.

What was more interesting was finding the caravan door wide open when we stopped for a photo. Someone (I won't say who it was, but it wasn’t me!) opened it before we left Pine Creek for a coffee break and forgot to shut it.

We were most relieved to see our $1000 Waeco fridge in the doorway had not fallen out.

Rock-hard giant termite mound near Adelaide River.

More about Darwin in our next blog. We await the arrival of Kay (Carol’s sister) and Paul from Brisbane, and Pam (Carol’s cousin) and Peter from Cairns, with whom we plan to visit Kakadu and other exciting places.

Mt Isa milestone: 65 not out

On turning 65, one can’t help feeling both regret and joy: regret at being old enough to be 'pensionable' and joy at being not yet dead.

In my case, I actually thought I had another day to go (a miscalculation possibly caused by the enervating Mt Isa heat or unconscious denial, or both).

Birthday bash at Tod and Clare Hirn's home.

I even had Carol convinced. It was only when my mobile phone erupted with congratulatory text messages from family that we both realised this was indeed 29 August.

It also happened to be the day of a dinner date with my niece Clare Hirn (brother John's 8th child) and her energetic and resourceful husband Tod, who together run Mt Isa’s No 1 floor coverings store, Hirn’s Carpet Choice.

We hadn’t seen them since their wedding in July last year in Maleny on the Sunshine Coast hinterland.

Tod generously shouted us to Italian cuisine at swishy Dom’s restaurant, where the four of us – or rather five, as Clare is eight months pregnant – raked over the joyful and tragic events of the past.

Birthday boy with Clare and Tod.

It was an unforgettable evening.

Clare and Tod have just finished renovating their home, tucked in behind but separate from their showroom in Mt Isa’s main street – a pretty handy setup for when baby arrives.

For our final night, Clare cooked up a curry and baked a chocolate cake lit up with a lone candle (a la the Mt Isa chimney stack) that I struggled to blow out.

We were really sorry to say goodbye – they are among the sweetest people you could possibly meet and somehow have managed to strike a good work-life balance.

Carol and Clare talking babies.

We found Mt Isa (population 23,000) a hot, busy place with a cityscape dominated by the Xstrata copper mine’s giant chimney stack and slag heaps. It operates 24x7 and employs 4,500 people.

Lead dust from the slag is a local health issue, but everyone knows that if the mine stops the town dies.

Dog day afternoon

En route to Mt Isa, we stayed overnight in Cloncurry after hauling our van around 450 kilometres south on the Matilda Highway from Karumba in the Gulf.

The big mine smokestack dominates the Mt Isa landscape.

We had intended staying overnight at the Burke & Wills Roadhouse around halfway, but made such good time that we decided, after a quick lunch, to keep going.

We were out of autogas, and as the autogas pump at Burke & Wills was out of order, we switched to petrol for the final 180-odd kilometres to Cloncurry, where we booked into a caravan park and stayed hitched for an early morning departure.

In the late afternoon we went for a walk along the Barkly Highway west towards town to check out the information centre.

Man's best enemy

That was when we had our encounter with the dog. Well, some may call it a dog, but it was more like a cross between a pit bull and a horse.

Downtown Cloncurry, a place pretty much gone to the dogs.

It came bounding out of an unfenced yard snarling in a most unfriendly manner. We backed off, making soothing noises, but the dog lunged forward and sank its teeth into my left hand.

We decided to walk on a couple of hundred metres to the information centre to get help as my hand was bleeding quite a bit.

The centre was closed so I washed up at a filthy public toilet, cursing and soliloquising like Lady Macbeth (‘will these hands ne’er be clean?’).

On the way back, a woman driving a Toyota 4WD ute covered in red dust saw our predicament, kindly squeezed us into the front seat with her shopping bags, and took us to the local hospital, located luckily quite close to the van park, to get the wound dressed.

There a woman wearing an enormous stethoscope who looked far too young to be a doctor insisted on my having a tetanus injection and antibiotics “because a dog’s mouth has bacteria that can cause serious infection”.

I meekly complied, remembering well the loss of a sibling to sudden infection.

As we were leaving early, the caravan park proprietor promised to report the incident to the local council, which is having a blitz on out-of-control dogs. I hope they penalised the owner and not the dog.

It was a salutary introduction to the Queensland outback.

After leaving Mt Isa, aided by a strong tail wind, we travelled west on the Barkly Highway stopping after 200 kilometres at Camooweal for fuel and then, 250 kilometres further west at Barkly Homestead in the Northern Territory for an overnight stay. This blog entry comes from Barkly Homestead. We plan to briefly visit Tennant Creek, which is another 200 kilometres west, before taking the Stuart Highway north to Darwin.