We're almost home

And so we left Lake Dalrymple and the people we had met there, including the ageing cattleman who was living out of the back of a truck, left, with a tarp thrown over it, while he took care of cattle he had on agistment on a nearby property. Until the drought breaks, that’s his life.
We drove across the base of the great Burdekin Falls dam spillway, then covered the 135km to Collinsville in several hours as it was a really bad dirt road. From then on, we were in the heart of coal-mining country with massive coal trains on the railway lines and good bitumen roads, so we headed south towards Nebo and stayed at Lake

Our truck dwarfed by the spillway at the Burdekin
Falls Dam.

Elphinstone, a natural lake where black swans and coots live and where local water ski club  members have a shed.

It was further south towards the Rockhampton-Longreach highway that we saw the first green grass in paddocks since we had left NSW all those months before, and even then, it was only fleeting.

After catching up with friends in Gracemere, on Rockhampton’s western outskirts, we went on to Yeppoon for three lovely nights with our friends, Judith and Barry.

We talked and laughed and ate and drank until we left on Tuesday morning, heading for Mount Morgan and Biloela and places south. We loved Mount Morgan, with its historic buildings, and ended our day at the Mulgildie pub, just south of Monto, where camping is encouraged in the pub’s backyard.



Lots of oversize loads were on the coal country roads,
including this giant bucket.

We had a great meal at the pub, chatting with the young Swedish backpacker running the bar, then fell into bed soon after 7.30pm, exhausted by our revelries of the previous few days.

Before reaching Monto we had detoured to the Cania Gorge National Park and Cania Dam so today we detoured again south of Monto to the Waruma Dam. There were masses of caravans and motorhomes camped right on the water’s edge but we weren’t tempted to stay.

One of Mount Morgan's old buildings.

Along the way today we bought groceries at Eidsvold and fuel at Mundubbera, where we started to see the citrus orchards for which the area is famous.  

We stopped early at Gayndah, as we were both tired, and tomorrow will make a final push to stay with friends near Pomona, then spend the weekend with family in Brisbane.

After that, it’s back to Richmond Hill and HOME!

Across north-west Queensland

October 15: This is the day of writing, but don’t know when we’ll be back in internet service area to post this blog.

 

We’re happily camped high on a hill overlooking Lake Dalrymple, the waterway formed by the Burdekin Falls Dam, south-east of Charters Towers.

The country across the NT and Qld is as dry as dust.

To get here from Tennant Creek in the NT, which we left on Oct 9, first we called just outside that town at the old telegraph station, part of Australia’s communications history, then made a turn to the east at the Three Ways (just a roadhouse) and continued across the rather tedious Barkly Tableland until we reached Camooweal, where we spent the night in a small park behind the service station.



Brolga sculptures from old junk in the
 hamlet of Nelia

It was a short drive the next day to Mt Isa, where we wanted to catch up with the sister of John’s son-in-law, Chris. We had a great afternoon with her, spent the night in a caravan park, and left next day for Richmond. There we stayed for two nights beside the town’s artificial lake, a great place, with a paved path all around, lit at night, and a wonderful place for the locals to fish, ski and indulge in other water sports.

A storm blew up on our second afternoon there and we actually got some rain! The country is desperately dry and camped in the caravan park were some volunteers with Aussie Helpers, as well as the founder, Brian Egan. They had been going around the local stations, seeing who needed hay, as they had seven road trains of hay coming west from Bowen the next Friday. Graziers were invited to bring their trucks to town, where a barbecue would be held and they could collect their fodder. It’s all paid for by donations and run by volunteers.

One of them told us they had a camera crew going around with them, and in fact, they were being filmed the morning we left, sitting at one of the caravan park barbecue shelters, planning their day. The camera crew is from the UK and they are making a documentary on drought in Australia to be shown on the English-language version of Al Jazeera TV network.

 

Richmond is home to Kronosaurus Korner, a wonderful museum of fossils found locally when the area was part of a huge inland sea. The Kronosaurus was a particularly nasty bit of works, reproduced in fibreglass outside. The fossils are marvellous, including the most complete dinosaur skeleton in Australia, quite a small chap.

From Richmond it was only a short drive to Hughenden, which I hadn’t visited since I was a child, when we lived there for a few years.

On the way in I was thinking it was sad that I had nobody alive in the family to let know I had found and photographed our old house/school/or convent where my sister and I learnt music. As it turned out, I couldn’t find any of those places. The house has been replaced with something more modern; the state school is vastly changed and now caters for K-12; and the lovely old convent was torn down and replaced by something more utilitarian. The caravan park, near the railway station, used to be the site of the hospital when we lived there in the 1950s, so that was vaguely familiar.

It was a much cooler day after the storms so we drove 70km north to Porcupine Gorge, called Australia’s little Grand Canyon. It is indeed magnificent.

The Boer War memorial kiosk.

The next day, we went on to Charters Towers, had lunch in Lissner Park which is such a green oasis in the middle of the drought-stricken country all around. I thought the birds were chattering in the grand old trees above us until John told me to have a look . . . they were full of thousands of flying foxes! The lovely old kiosk, as it is called, was a memorial to the Charters Towers men who went to the Boer War, all horsemen. I had spent formative years of my adolescence in that town, so enjoyed seeing it again (that’s the third visit for me since 2007).

Some of the thousands of flying foxes in Lissner Park.

We decided to go towards Townsville, turning south at Mingela, through Ravenswood to the Burdekin Falls Dam, with a dirt road linking that area to Collinsville, for anyone who’s following us on a map.

The caravan park is the site of part of the village for the 1900 dam construction workers in the 1980s and we walked around this morning having a look at where some of the buildings were. There are still two tennis courts and what was an old swimming pool (there’s a newer one for the campers). The resident ranger told us when collecting the VERY expensive camping fees ($15 a night!) that he’s met a former dam worker in Townsville who told him they were really well looked after, with a bar and a store, and girls brought in on a Friday night, installed in a donger, and taken out on the Monday.

The Burdekin Falls Dam, with the roadway to the left of the pillars
at the base of the spillway.

There is a flock of peacocks here, apparently descended from a pair one of the men living in married quarters here during construction had in his garden. He left them here when the dam was completed in the late 1980s and apparently the flock built up to about 200 before some culling. Even the three peacocks still make a racket when they give their unearthly shriek, and their many peahens honk. Wallabies are everywhere, and so is their dung, but last night we sat outside and had about four feeding on leaves only a metre or so away.

There are not many campers here, but two have moderately large dogs. However one is blind and the other is very old and deaf, so I think the wallabies and peacocks are safe.

When we leave tomorrow morning we will drive across the bottom of the spillway towards Collinsville, obviously a way not available when water is rushing over the spillway. The ranger tells us it’s a fairly rough road, but as veterans of the Plenty, the Tanami Desert and the Gibb River roads, we’ll tackle it with good humour.

It promises to be a hot afternoon so we’ll take a dip in the pool and relax in the shade of the big African mahogany trees around the campground.

 

Starting the long drive home

With some reluctance, but also some joy, we left Darwin on October 7, heading homewards after all these months.

We’d had a wonderful time in Darwin, parked in the driveway of the home of Fred and Lyn Barlow, with our stay extended to two weeks because of John’s operation (see previous blog) and the need for his surgeon to check him a week later.

We got the all-clear on Monday, Oct 6, so we were ready to go by the Tuesday morning.

One stop on the way south from Darwin was at a mango farm which produces the most glorious ice-creams. We’d had some at the open-air Deckchair Cinema in Darwin, John phoned, and arranged to collect some on our way south. So now we have the bottom of our little freezer packed with these 200ml tubs of tropical flavour.

Gorgeous boy at Mataranka.

We stopped in Katherine just long enough for me to catch up with a cousin there. We’d had lunch in Darwin with her sister and husband and the daughters of each of these cousins. They were all off to Singapore later this week to help the son of the Darwin cousin (Coral) celebrate his 50th birthday and recent marriage to an Indonesian beauty. So I was so glad we caught up when we did.

Then we drove down the Stuart Highway to Mataranka (about 38 C but no humidity, so it was actually a little more pleasant than Darwin) where we stayed the night.

We had to dissuade an over-friendly peacock and his harem from pinching our cheese and bikkies before dinner, but the caravan park was almost empty, showing that it really is nearing the end of the dry season.

Today we have driven more than 500km to Tennant Creek, just south of where we will go back to turn east tomorrow towards Mt Isa.

The countryside is dry and often quite burnt but there is still something wonderful about these Central Australian open spaces. Also wonderful, and mirth-producing, are the thousands of termite nests, many of which have been ‘dressed’ in t-shirts, caps and sometimes sunglasses by passers-by.

We couldn’t stop to photograph many as invariably we had massive road trains on our tails, but we certainly enjoyed looking at them.

Tomorrow we’ll have an easy day, just a few hundred km to Barkly Homestead, then on to Mt Isa.

We’ve admitted to each other that we are really ready to go home after all this time, and all the things that have gone wrong, although an enormous amount has gone right and we’ve seen some glorious parts of Australia.

Tropical heat in Darwin

Lovely Berry Springs.

We’ve been in Darwin now for a week, with at least another week planned, parked in the driveway of the house belonging to our friends, Lyn and Fred Barlow.

On our way into Darwin we wove around a little, driving west to Dundee Beach (beautiful aqua water but too many crocs for swimming, the locals told us at a tiny beachfront Saturday morning market). We then called into the Berry Springs to see all the people having picnics and swimming in the clear fresh water.

One of the reasons we’re in Darwin for so long is that weeks ago, just after we had left Broome and were on the Dampier Peninsula, John got a call on his mobile from his heart specialist on the Central Coast.

The backside of the huge B-52 bomber, overshadowing
the other aircraft at the aviation museum.

As many of the readers of this blog know, he had a defibrillator fitted at the end of 2011 and has six-monthly checks to see what it’s been doing, if anything. So far it’s hardly had any work at all and he was told the battery would last for 8 years. He also has a monitor that plugs into power and sends messages to Berlin, if you please, every night (if there’s mobile phone coverage). Naturally, we’ve been in and out of power/phone coverage, but apparently the engineers in Berlin who monitor this device could see a worrying battery trend that they had noticed in two other such devices around the world.



Fred Barlow at the helm as we left his Cullen Bay
marina berth.

So they’d alerted the Aussie doc, he contacted John and suggested he have it checked and probably replaced in Darwin. John let him know when we were about a week away from Darwin and an appointment was made at a cardiac clinic here.

We kept that appointment last Tuesday, and even though the battery shows it’s still 86% full, the Berlin engineers say it will drop like a stone very soon . . . so on Monday (tomorrow) he goes back to the private hospital here for a local anaesthetic and replacement of the unit. 

There’s to be no driving for a week and then it will depend on when he feels like driving the truck. We hired a car when we first arrived, because it’s easier to explore in a car rather than the truck, and I’ve extended that hire by a week. I’ll be the chauffeur while he’s out of action.

We were tossing around as I took this sunset pic.

So far we’ve been driving all over Darwin, been to see a movie at the open-air Deckchair Theatre, caught up with a cousin living just opposite the Sailing Club, where we had a meal one night. We’ve been sailing with Lyn and Fred in their yacht and one night when they were at a function, John and I took a picnic of oysters and prawns to the parkland at Nightcliff, overlooking the ocean. There were hundreds of people having twilight picnics, walking their dogs, and cycling along the paths.



Birthday boy and his ice-cream cake.

We spent a whole morning at the Aviation Museum and intend having a visit to the Darwin museum and art gallery.

Last night I cooked a special meal to mark John’s 72nd birthday and we all drank champagne and red wine as we ate roast pork and a special ice-cream cake I’d made, sitting on the Barlows’ breezy back verandah. 

The heat is pretty intense, as is the humidity. As I write this, just before 10am, it’s 29 degrees, with 66% humidity and we’re told Darwin is having an early ‘build-up’ to the wet season. Top temperature today is predicted to be 32, which is actually quite moderate as it’s been hotter in previous days, but the humidity is definitely increasing.

 

 

 

 

Melons, fridge panic and flowing water

When we left the Douglas Daly Tourist Park we went exploring further south, even though the road is a dead-end, as that’s where we’d seen road trains coming from laden with cattle, hay and melons. It was also where the irrigation boys we’d met had laid out piping for 1200 acres of sandalwood.

Tiny sandalwood trees, and the host trees which their roots
 parasitise, as far as we could see.
 

Sure enough, we found those new plantations, stretching as far as we could see; also cattle stations, and those growing grass for hay, with all the road fences protected against wallabies with mesh wire into the ground.

Melon-harvesting was under way, and we had been told the season was almost over, with the owner of that vast growing area about to go to his other melon farm in Oakey, Queensland. 

The last of the melon harvest.

We then took a different road to the famous old Daly River Crossing, a low-level number now replaced with a high-level bridge. Just outside that little settlement (just a police station, a pub and a few houses, but crawling with barramundi fishermen when the fish are biting), there are a number of fishermen’s camps, retreats and tourist parks.

We chose Wooliana on the Daly, as far downstream as we could get, but still 78km from the sea. From there on it’s pretty wild country and the river anywhere is full of salties.

The almost-empty Wooliana caravan park.

This was a pretty place to stay as the owner keeps the grass well-watered, it had a lovely little swimming pool, and in contrast to being full every June, July and August, with those 3 months already booked out next year, there were just three couples staying there . . . and one came from Ballina!

When we stopped for morning tea on our way back to the highway, I found the fridge seemed to be de-frosting, had a light on, but the motor was not going. By the time we reached Adelaide River on the highway, we were at minor panic stations as this was the fridge that had had a complete new unit installed early this year.

John phoned an Engel repair place in Darwin, I phoned Lyn Barlow to say we’d be with them that day, instead of several days later, we bought ice and put it in the fridge crisper, transferring the big slab of melon we’d had there to the sink, and we lead-footed it to Darwin, only an hour or so away.

We called at the Engel repair place, and the bloke was more interested in telling us what costs would be than what might be wrong. John told him he’d have to un-build the fridge from the cabinet and would bring it back the next day and off we went to a warm welcome from the Barlows.

After coffee and much chat we were about to transfer our ice and the fridge contents into a borrowed esky . . . and we found the fridge was working again! We monitored it through the night and it behaved perfectly.  John called a national Engel service centre the next morning and was told the compressor may have turned itself off because the fridge was over-iced. We HAD turned it well down to cope with the large slab of hot melon we’d put in a day or so earlier and had not returned the temp to normal so that seemed perfectly feasible. And if we hadn’t shoved a big bag of ice in at Adelaide River, it probably would have started working earlier.

Anyway . . . after lunch that day, we drove back south to resume our journey as we wanted to find the WWII airfield where one of John’s uncles had served, as well as spend some time in Litchfield National Park.

Not a graveyard but magnetic termite mounds, built north-south.

His Uncle Joffre had been at Coomalie Creek where now there is a tourist park of sorts, so we pulled in there. There was power, so we could run the air-con (an essential as the days and nights get hotter). Late in the afternoon when the owner returned from Darwin and heard of our interest, he piled us into his all-terrain vehicle, a Ranger, told John to grab a beer, took 2 for himself, and we set off on a mad drive across the highway and up a steep and rocky hillside, with him pointing out various remains of wartime buildings, hurtling upwards and sideways, occasionally thrusting his beer can at me to hold when he really needed two hands on the wheel. Halfway through he switched to the second can and we hurtled down the hill, across the highway again (no road trains, thank goodness) and we explored his place. He gave us some wartime history books to read and gave us the name and phone number of the man who owns the property on which the old airfield is situated and where a chapel built during the war has been re-created.

We did try to call the next morning, but no response, so we continued to explore Adelaide River and its historic railway precinct before turning north again to enter Litchfield Park.

We’ve had two great days here, staying at a park on the western side, which once again has power so we can cope with the hot nights. This morning we left at 8am and were at the Buley Rockholes near the eastern side of the park by 8.30am to be the first people swimming in those glorious pools.

The glorious Buley Rockholes.

By the time we left around 9.30 the tour groups and individuals were starting to arrive.

Wangi Falls, still flowing at the end of the
 dry season.

We also swam at Wangi Falls close to noon, and then sensibly returned to our park for lunch and to turn on the essential cooling system. We’ve walked to lookouts, but not to the bottom of Florence Falls (too hot) and there are several 4WD areas we’ve promised ourselves we’ll explore in the Jimny next time we come to the Top End, probably soon after the Wet ends, maybe in 2016.

 

We’ll bring the trailer then, with the little Jimny on it, and stick to bitumen all the way. There was no way we were going to trail it this time, with all the dirt roads we planned to negotiate.

So now we may spend one more day and night somewhere on the way back to Darwin, or we may just go straight there, but that will be where I probably will next get enough phone reception to post this blog.

 

Hotting up in the NT

When we bought fruit and vegies from a Kununurra orchard,
we were greeted by the family pet.

We left Kununurra, quite reluctantly, but looking forward to new adventures just across the border in the Northern Territory. It was just a short drive of less than 300km to the Victoria River Roadhouse, beside the Victoria River, obviously, with a campground, bar and restaurant.

While we were having a meal that night, we were chatting to the driver of a low loader who’d pulled in. When he heard we’d come across the Plenty Highway from Boulia to Alice Springs, he told us he’d come from that area, worked as a rodeo clown, and in the 1980s had worked on Macsland, a property being run by a cousin of mine.

I told him I had family links to the area and he then astonished me by saying the young fellow 

Spear grass as tall as the truck near Victoria River.

helping behind the bar . . . who was also a helicopter pilot based there doing scenic tours . . . was also from Boulia.

Sure enough, he ambled along soon for a chat and it turns out he lives on the next property to our friends Adrian and Vicky Wells and of course knows lots of my family members. So there we were, in the middle of the Northern Territory, having Old Home week.

Next day we moved on just under 200km to Katherine, but after exploring the town, decided to venture further north on the Stuart Highway, going east from it to Edith Falls, where there’s a simple campground and a cheery woman running a kiosk who makes a pretty decent barra burger. 

Lovely Edith Falls near Katherine.

We spent the night there, rather hot, as there’s no power and our air-conditioning needs 240v, but had a couple of swims in the glorious big pool under the falls. It was too hot to walk up to higher falls but plenty of young people were doing that.

The next day, almost delirious with relief to be back on bitumen roads, we did some real exploring, even venturing onto some red dirt roads! First we went to Pine Creek, a former gold mining centre, where we got some essential supplies and checked out the local railway museum and a display of fabulous old 

If we'd had wings we could have taken off at the WWII
McDonald airstrip.

mining gear.

Then a little further on, we turned off onto a very old bitumen road (would it be WWII vintage, we wondered) which led after 5km to the McDonald airfield and runway, one of the many WWII airfields along the Stuart Highway. We motored right to the end of it, had morning tea, then drove back to the access road and eventually the highway.

We left it again on the eastern side to fine the heritage-listed Grove Hill Hotel, right out in the middle of nowhere. It has a mining and railway-building past, still has big mines all around it so the roads leading there are pretty good for dirt roads, and is the most incredible building, all corrugated iron and iron pipe frames (to stop the termites attacking).

 

Don't laugh . . . it's heritage-listed.

Inside it has a rather dusty museum showing the area’s history, with lots of stuff donated by district people. There’s a wall display of beers still in their cans and bottles and the gnarled old Dutch barman showed us the Grove Hill mug, just plain black, until you put boiling water in it, and all the illustrations and words appear. So we had to have one!



The Grove Hill Hotel mug.

Old tools and junk make up the name on the pub.

There’s camping in the back yard, but it’s surrounded by wrecked cars and blokes living in old caravans. The barman told us they put on a bbq and music the last Saturday of the month, attended by 200-300 people, and already a heap of dongas they have in that back yard are already booked out for the September event.

Even though it’s right beside the Darwin-Adelaide railway line, and a freight train went past while we were there, camping didn’t appeal, so we crossed the highway again, heading west into the Douglas Daly region of the Douglas and Daly Rivers. We are happily established at the Douglas Daly Tourist Park, under huge old mahogany trees with a glorious pool for swimming as the Douglas River beside the park is home to saltwater crocs.

On our way from the highway we passed big plantations of trees, all mahogany we were told, and the people next to us who left this morning in a hu-u-uge motorhome had been in charge of a 1200-acre irrigation system for sandalwood plantings. There’s a whole team of workers living in dongas here who work for the sandalwood company, the same as in Kununurra.

The irrigation head honcho told us this morning his team is now off to a property west of Katherine for about 6 weeks work putting in irrigation for about 400 acres of yet more sandalwood. Then he and his wife will trundle off home to Swan Hill in Victoria until after the wet season when they return to the NT for more work.

 

Walking boots and waterfalls

We’re well into our second week in Kununurra, with plans to leave on September 9 (next Tuesday).

The weather is getting hotter every day (36C today and 38C forecast for Tuesday) and we’re making full use of the caravan park pool, amongst its palms and other foliage.

Evidence of a massive earth movement.

We had a great excursion to the Bungle Bungles this week, flying by light aircraft from Kununurra, over Lake Argyle to Purnululu National Park, being taken by 4WD bus to the starting point of a walk, which ended up being about 10km in the hottest part of the day.  After we’d been flown back to Kununurra, with an aerial view of the Argyle Diamond Mine in its extinct volcano on the way, we had a quick swim, then lay about panting in the late afternoon before turning in and sleeping for about 11 hours.

But it was really worth it, as we saw some fabulous geology as we explored parts of the Bungle Bungles.

This whole Kimberley region is just about as old as the earth’s crust, it seems, with some ranges and rocks dating back billions of years.

 On the flight south from Kununurra, the pilot pointed out  

Walking into one of the Bungle Bungles' many gorges.

a range formed when two plates in the earth pushed against each other . . . fantastic from the air!

Flying also gave us a better perspective on the Ord River Irrigation Scheme which we’d only explored by hire car.  We saw the massive sandalwood plantations as well as those growing mangoes, and other crops being cultivated near the irrigation channels.

WA's biggest mango plantation at Kununurra.

After a day’s rest we took off again early one morning for a bus ride to El Questro, a property about 80km from Kununurra, on the last stages of the Gibb River Road. First was Emma Gorge, a resort with a rather special gorge and icy pools that it took us an hour to clamber over rocks to reach. And

Soaking in the warm water at Zebedee Springs.

then we had to climb over and around those same rocks to get back.

We then were driven to the main part of this station, stopping at the warm Zebedee Springs for a glorious soak, especially under a small waterfall. Lunch was barramundi or steak, both excellent in this part of the world, then it was time to be taken to the Chamberlain River for a cruise through the Chamberlain Gorge. We only saw part of its 128km length, but it was wonderfully impressive.

We moored in what the crew call their fish sanctuary . . . only because the archer fish,  

The wonderful Chamberlain gorge

catfish and big barramundi there know that when a boat moors, they get fed.  We saw many at close quarters, and as well as feeding them, the crew plied us with champagne and fresh Ord River fruit such as three different kinds of melon and starfruit. 

Fish food in one hand, bubbly in the other.

By the time we were dropped off in Kununurra that evening, we’d been enjoying ourselves for 12 hours, so once again, we fell into bed.

Everything is working well on the truck again, with batteries replaced, and today it got a new set of rear tyres. We’ve tried out most of the restaurants and cafes attached to touristy places and have had some great food experiences.

Tomorrow we’ll go to the local markets again but now we know what they serve, we’ll have breakfast there. We have some more exploring to do around the farming areas and have promised ourselves a sunset from a rocky lookout above the town. We’ve checked out the Argyle diamonds in some shops here, but because the pink ones are incredibly rare (we’re told only a champagne glassful is found each year) even the smallest chip is worth thousands of dollars, and the champagne-coloured ones are not far behind in price.

Before we know it, we’ll be handing back our little hire car, packing up the Isuzu and heading east to Victoria River, on the way to Katherine.