Date:
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03 - 06/05/2017
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Location:
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Kakadu (Northern Territory)
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Distance Travelled:
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236 km
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Temperature:
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Min:
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23.2
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Max:
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35.0
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ABORIGINAL cave art:
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250+
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Heading out of Darwin, we took the Arnhem highway, leading
south east from city. On our way to Kakadu, we passed through a little township
named Humpty Doo; which led to the boys making up rhymes for the next hour or
so, stringing together ‘oo’ words – needless to say, being two young lads, most
of the rhymes included ‘poo’ (“We’re off to Kakadu, going through Humpty Doo,
to see a moo do a poo”, you get the picture…).
With that hilarity behind us (Oh, please let it be behind
us!!), we pulled into our first stop: the Window
on the Wet Lands – visitors centre. The aboriginal name for this area is
Ludawei, meaning turtle dreaming place, which features proudly in the dreamtime
creation stories for the people of this area. This was a little gem of a place,
particularly for those with an inquisitive mind. In addition to the helpful
young lady sitting at the front desk, poised to answer any informational-type
questions a passing visitor may have, there was also a massive display and
education area replete with interesting facts about the flora and fauna of the
Kakadu wetlands. There were even question and answer worksheets for the boys,
which made us feel a little better for not keeping up as rigorously as we
should have with their homework. So, with pencil and paper in hand, we spent
the best part of two hours exploring the visitors centre, seeking answers to questions
about this region.
Window of the Wet
Lands – Visitor’s Centre
But, soon it was time move on. A quick bite to eat in the
car (out of the steaming heat and swarms of flies) and we were off. Trundling
down the Arnhem highway, the landscape started to change. At first it just
looked a little greener, but presently there was a flourish of colour and then increasingly
dense vegetation closed in around us. Cabbage trees and Pandanus (flax like, squat shaped
palms) began to appear; dominating the landscape out to the horizon. Pockets of
water also started to emerge from the bush, with occasional billabongs (minus
jolly swagmen, sadly) becoming rivers and swampland. Road signs also started to
appear, announcing that we were travelling on a flood plain – with depth
markers dotted here and there showing in the low points of the road, to warn
travellers how deep the waters might be. This warning would be especially welcome
during the wet season when the roads are largely flooded. Fortunately for us,
the wet season ended several months ago, and most of the transient waterways
that had burgeoned during the tropical monsoons had thankfully subsided. We
knew there would be ample opportunities to cross water in our future, but we
were hoping it would be once we had our trailer set up high and dry on solid
ground.
Like most places at the top end of Australia, the
waterways we were bumbling past were strictly for admiring only. Not,
unfortunately, for swimming or cooling our tired feet in. The threat of crocs
continued to loom large throughout Kakadu, and we wanted to avoid the
embarrassment of social media shame by being shamefully gobbled by a hungry
reptile (as described in my Darwin blog post).
And so, before long we entered into the great Kakadu
national park…
Arriving at Kakadu
National Park
However, our day’s journey wasn’t at an end just yet. We
had the pleasure of meandering our way through throngs of lush plants, grassy
meadows, and flowing waterways towards our new home-away-from-home for the next
few days: Jabiru. This sparsely populated township wasn’t much to write home
about (but, that’s never stopped me before!). There were a couple of
caravan/camping sites, as well as petrol
station, and a supermarket. And that was about it. Unfortunately, the local pie
shop – which we had heard good things about, and from which we had hoped to
score some reportedly ‘world famous pies’ (aren’t they always world famous /
award winners?!?) – was closed.
The name of the town, Jabiru, was taken from an enormous
and stately bird that inhabits this region. Looking a little like a cross
between a heron and a pelican, but wearing the black and white motley of a
magpie, it sports a long curved horny beak for ferreting food out from under
the reeds. This very debonair bird stands head and shoulders above the other
feathery fowl of these wetlands, and it seems to strut around as if it knows it
too!
The eponymous
Jabiru
The caravan park itself was just as sparse as the town,
but in its favour, each site had its own little toilet and shower cubicle and
there was a pool to splash about it at the end of the day. What more does a
little family need on the go need? Being in the middle of a national park, our
little campsite was also teeming with wildlife. All manner of birds (Corellas,
Black Cockatoos, and incalculable numbers of brightly coloured winged beasts)
chirped and chittered in the trees, or swooped and flitted overhead. Of an
evening, as the birds went home to roost, they were replaced by multitudes of hefty
fruit bats, which darkened the skies as they headed to the abundant fruiting
trees of the wet lands.
A smattering the
birdlife around Kakadu – sadly, the bats were a little tricky to get a good
snap of
Closer to the ground there was also plenty of scuttling
and scurrying critters to see. In particular, this included swarms of green
tree ants which were busily building leafy nests in the bushes next to our
trailer. These nomadic arthropods seem to have an unquenchable desire to
explore all places that lead up from the ground, in the hopes of finding the
next perfect nest site. Unfortunately, that also included our caravan. But a
quick trip to the supermarket for a tube of ‘ant sand’, which was then
liberally sprinkled around our tyres, support braces, power cable, water hose
and guy ropes, kept most of the marauding horde out of the trailer and back in
nature where they belonged.
Busy green tree
ants, building a new home next door to ours.
Unfortunately, due to the aforementioned heavy rains that
had fallen upon the Northern Territory this year, several of the walks and trails
within the park were still closed to the public (including Gunlom falls –
complete with its plunge pool and swimming holes - which Nat was gagging to get
to). Damn you Mother Nature, you’ve thwarted us again!
Still there was more than enough to keep us occupied.
Most of our time was spent traipsing through long and windy trails; past stark
and brightly coloured rocky mountains; fording creeks and streams; and hiking
to view multitudes of ancient aboriginal rock art galleries in remote regions
of the park.
Exploring the rocky
trails of Kakadu
The rock art was truly spectacular, with walls of dozens
of caves adorned with images were created over thousands of years. Interspersed
amongst these ancient images, there were also more recent and indeed more intricate
pictures, which were set down in the time frame of 100’s of years. All around
the various sites, the old and new pictures were layered on top of each other –
mingling stories and ideas from the distant past with those told by more
contemporary teachers of aboriginal lore.
Amongst the sites visited were Ubirr and Nanguluwur art
galleries, both of which emerged from the trail and opened into rocky
amphitheatres. We all had enormous fun exploring the sandstone sites, imagining
what life was like in times gone by, and searching through the images for both familiar
animals and bizarre icons of dreamtime creatures and spirits. Surrounding each
site, were well made walkways and helpful signs had been crafted to assist
visitors navigate and make sense of what they are seeing. We also scratched our
heads at some of the images, which were placed so high up the cave walls, or on
the underside of an overhanging ledge, far out of reach without the aid of a
very high ladder. Whoever the artist was of these cunningly placed gems, they
were certainly determined that no one else would cover their work in times to
come.
Rock art of Kakadu
national park
Climbing to the top of a high mountain at the Ubirr site,
we were treated to a breath-taking 360-degree view of this section of the park.
On one side were wet lands stretching off into the distance. To the north were
grasslands and forests, with puffs of smoke coming from fires that had been set
to clear the scrub early in the dry season. To the west lay rocky-mountains, with
towering stone columns and rough pebble slopes. But all around us was a
brilliant blue sky, filled with eagles winging their way through the air on the
thermal currents blasted upwards from the hot baked ground. Occasionally, these
raptors would spot some critter fleeing from the burning grasses and swoop in
to pick up their lunch. Probably slightly singed…
Amongst our wanderings around the rock art, we also took
time to take to the waters of this vast wet land. The guides, however, almost seemed
a little apologetic that we weren’t there during the massive migrations, which occur
during the height of the season. Despite this, what we saw was certainly impressive
enough! Flocks of birds, of all shapes, sizes and colours teamed amongst the half-submerged
trees, or waded through floating islands of reeds.
Birds of the Kakadu wetlands
Our resident ‘Crocodile Spotter’,
Nat, was also in fine form and was the first to spy many of the reptiles
skulking in the water or warming their soft scaly hides on the muddy banks. As
Nat announced each of her finds, the pilot of the water craft drew the boat in
the direction she pointed. Thanks to her, we watched many a croc in it’s
natural environment, including a particularly lazy brute lying in the shallows –
who would occasionally throw his head back and chomp a handful of small fish
that had wandering into the cool shade of his gaping maw. Sure, it wasn’t a big
mouthful, but over the five minutes we watch him, he had at least half a dozen
chomps. For a coldblooded creature, who doesn’t really need much food to
survive, he looked like he was doing quite nicely for himself in that shady
spot.
Many small
mouthfuls make a dinner for this handsome chap
While we were out and about, we also took a spin out to a
place we had heard about and wanted to see for ourselves. Cahill’s Crossing, a treacherous
piece of road, which crosses the East Alligator River (strange name for a
country without alligators…) from Kakadu to Arnhem land to the north. Arriving
at the fast flowing river crossing, we had absolutely no intention of tackling
the beast ourselves, but it was fun watching a handful of other vehicles pick
their way across this patch of unforgiving water. Ruined cars lay strewn
downstream, amongst the net casters and anglers chancing their luck at catching
a barramundi. The boys could have stayed for hours watching in awe of these
cars with their wheels nearly disappearing underwater as they went on their way
across the river. But, we had our own, albeit smaller, rivers to cross to get
home.
Cahill's Crossing: Nope. Not for me my friend...
Sure, it wasn’t as torrential as Cahill’s Crossing, but as
this was my first – in my mind it almost could have been! I’m writing this a
few weeks after we had our adventure in Kakadu, and looking back on it now
(with a few more of these watery dips under my belt), it was probably pretty
tame as far as water crossings go. But, as this was destined to be an adventure
of learning and discovery from the start, I guess even a small water crossing
was a large learning experience. As such, we dutifully recorded the event to
mark this auspicious occasion (and took a few extra snaps, just for good
measure).
Woo hoo!! (now that wasn't so bad, was it!?)
…unfortunately, we never quite made it that far. But, I
think I’ll leave that story for another day.
Bye ‘d bye,
Gregg
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