Saturday 23 July 2011

Northern Territory


300 clicks of corrugations later, we took the turn off to 7 Emu Station. As we neared the homestead we gained on an old Land Cruiser that was averaging 40kms per hour, it obviously belonged to one of the station hands so you would expect them to successfully cross the river directly before their own homestead. However, we discovered that this was not the case. After snatching our indigenous friend out of the river, we finally found ourselves at the homestead/ reception area where we were given some very vague directions to the camp. The camp site was amazing - it was on a steep cliff which overlooked the pristine Robinson River Valley, we even had a loo with a view.

Finally made it to the border........


cute camp dog at 7 Emu - reminded me of Tess

we love long drop toilets....



After a few days we noticed that supplies were dwindling so we decided to take a day trip to Boorooloola which is an infamous NT Aboriginal Community. We originally had planned to spend a night here after we departed 7 Emu Station,but very quickly changed our minds. We did our grocery shop at one of the local stores and stocked up on the basics (poxy vegetables, overpriced meat and long life milk) and visited the local art gallery. As takeaway alcohol sales weren't available until 2.30pm we decided to drive the 50kms to a seaside town called King Ash Bay and enjoy a nice lunch by the water. When we arrived in King Ash Bay we were greeted at the Fishing Club by an unwelcoming old bag who informed us that we couldn't get lunch NT style (Not Today, Not Tomorrow, Not Tuesday or Not Thursday). So we filled up with petrol and made our way back to Boorooloola for some surprisingly good takeaway grub. It was now 2.30pm so we made our way to the supermarket to buy ourselves a carton of beer. $65, a breathalyser test and an ID check later we had ourselves a carton of Carlton Midstrenghts - what an ordeal!!!! We do not plan to visit Boorooloola ever again.

We really enjoyed the rest of our time at 7 Emu Station even though we didn't land a decent fish the whole time. Frank (who is the indigenous Station owner) took us on a tour of the property and taught us a lot about his family history, bush tucker and bush medicine. He also told tales about kidneys and ball sacks being ruptured, his father swimming across flooded croc infested rivers and he even pointed out a few of the trees under which his mother had given birth to his 9 siblings.

Sadly we had to leave 7 Emu Station, but we knew that another adventure was just around the corner. We thought that we would treat ourselves to a night in a cabin with some internet access and electricity, so we made our way to Cape Crawford for a night before we arrived at our next 'bush camping' destination. We checked into the 'Heart Break Hotel' which is the only thing in Cape Crawford. It was a lovely little park and we were able to do a few loads of washing, eat a pub meal, play a game of darts, stock up on booze (still overpriced, but no breathalyser was involved) and talk to lots of other travellers about road conditions etc.

The next morning we packed up early and drove to Lorealla Springs where we met our friends Carmen and Kev. We had a quick dip in one of the hot springs (it took away all of our aches and pains) and made our way to Rosie Creek Fishing Camp. The campsite is located 80kms down a dirt 4WD track, and we only got stuck once. We were in awe when we finally arrived (3 hours later) as we were once again able to set up camp directly in front of another beautiful creek. The fishing was pretty awesome, it's not too often you throw back a 39cm Mangrove Jack because your esky is all ready full!!!! We also caught some decent Cod, Trevally (Giant and Golden), QLD Grouper, Queenie, a Sickle Fish and a stinking Baracuda. As we sat around our camp fire of a night we could hear the crocodiles splashing around and would even catcht a glimpse of those creepy red eyes.


carsales.com.au????


Waz and his cuda

Belle and the cod that is bigger than the one Waz got (fishing isn't a competition)

Waz and Jack


 Belle and Jack

After a few days of fishing and relaxing we made our way back to Lorella Springs with a quick stop at 'Nudie Springs', which remains heated at 38 degrees. Luckily we were the only people there so we did not see any 'nudie grey nomads' - what a relief. We stayed overnight at Lorella Springs to soak in the hot springs and wash away all of that dust before heading to Limmen Bight Fishing Camp.

 Springs at Lorella that soothed our aches and pains...

We had heard mixed reports on Limmen Bight from other travellers and weren't sure what to expect. John Hall (who we bought our boat from) raved about the place, but others had complained about the stinky toilets and lack of facilities. We were greeted with a detour sign (spelt detor) at the gates to the camp which was a bit confusing as there was no detour. Through the gate and past the rusted out vehicles we found ourselves at the homestead/reception where we were greeted by the owner and his son, they were pretty rough country Territorians, but both had hearts of gold (as long as you never crossed them).

During our Limmen Bight experience we weren't overly energetic, and enjoyed sleep ins and afternoon fishing sessions for a couple of days. We caught plenty of barras but they were all undersized, we also got a few Jacks and Groupers. We spent some time with Steve the owner and his sons who told us lots of stories about the camp, people who had stayed there and a heap of local information. He had lived in the area for 46 years and had married a local indigenous girl. When Waz noted his interest in a mining proposal in the area he then showed us some awesome maps of the indigenous history of the area which was a real privilege. Although we had no cash on us we bought a book from him on the basis that we leave the money for him at the 5 Star supermarket in Katherine. If we could function on this level of trust on a day to day basis the world would be a much better place.


Rampy the crocodile (a croc as big as our boat who hangs out near the boat ramp)


a shark ate Waza's barra

Another pack up and we were on the corrugated road again - we weren't really sure where to though. We thought about staying at Roper Bar but when we saw the hoards of grey nomads we decided to keep going to Mataranka which is famous for it's natural hot springs. After 3 weeks of bull dust, long drop toilets or shovels, dribbly showers and no phone or internet access we were very happy to arrive at campground with all of the modern amenities. Belle enjoyed an hour long shower and we both enjoyed catching up with family and friends on the phone. We also realized that we had got our first flat tyre of the trip, which is a pretty good effort after 11,000kms of corrugated, dirt, sand and rocky tracks. Waz was able to change the tyre with on a grassy patch with a cold beer in hand - it was awesome.
One of our favourite pass times is to watch other campers set up their tents, and giggle while they fight and swear at each other - we would never do anything like that........ All of the grey nomads even cleared out this morning - we are in heaven. We have even been able to enjoy a restaurant cooked meal which was a real treat. Tomorrow we are going to pack up again and head to Katherine and Daly Waters which should be lots of fun. Then off to Darwin to catch up with Lorimyers and Rob......

Quick dip at Bitter Springs

Barra feeding at the campground


Why can't we catch a barra this big??????

Aye Karumba

We spent a few days in Cairns getting bits and pieces sorted and catching up with SidRock. We took our trailer to a mob called "Cape York Trailers", and they were absolutely fantastic. They were really helpful (the complete opposite of Weipa Auto), so if you ever need any work done on your trailer you should go and see Ted and the boys.

We left Cairns on Thursday and hit the Savanah Way - what a drive. Even though the weather wasn't great the view was amazing, we drove through Atherton and Ravenshoe (pronounced Ravens-Toe). We were going to stop in at Undara and see the caves, but the tours took over two hours and they had no food (it was 2pm and hadn't eaten all day) so we jumped into the big rig and made our way to Georgetown.

Georgetown was a sleepy little town and we booked ourselves into a Motel for the night. We also decided that we would eat at the Motel Restaurant. When our entree (garlic bread) came out microwaved we should have fixed up the bill and made a run for it, but we were famished and lazy so we ordered our mains. I have eaten some pretty terrible meals in my life, but I probably have to say that this meal was one of the worst so far.
Waz found a DTMR branch at Georgetown.... should he transfer????

The next day we departed early (without stopping for breakfast at the Motel Restaurant) and made our way to Normanton. We only stopped in briefly to take a photo of the gigantic crocodile and the purple pub. For those of you who do not know the story of Kris The Savannah King I will tell you now. Back in 1957 a tough bird by the name of Krystina Pawlowski shot dead a 28ft 4in (8.63m) crocodile on the MacArthur Bank of the Norman River just downstream from Normanton. All of the photos were lost in the 1974 floods, but they created a popular tourist attraction with a life-sized cast which sits outside the Normanton Council Chambers.
payback for eating those crocodile springrolls in Cooktown


Waz ate most of the spring rolls

the purple pub


72kms later and we arrived in Karumba. Initially I thought that we may have taken a wrong turn to a retirement village, but quickly realized that we were just seeing the hoards of Grey Nomads who annually visit Karumba with their 20 foot caravans. We also noticed a sign at the entrance of the caravan park which informed us that there had been chlorination issues, and the water was unsafe to drink. Luckily we had stopped in at First Choice in Cairns so we had plenty of beer and spirits, so dehydration would not be a problem (just winding up our parents now).

It was a slow start to our fishing adventure, but on our second day in the water our luck improved. Between the two of us we caught about 20 Grunter, but only one was legal and a nice queenfish. Unlike the GMs (grey nomads) we threw the undersized ones back and were happy to only take back enough fish for our dinner that night. If you feel strongly about sustainable fishing I would urge you not to go to the filleting table of the Karumba Point Tourist Park, it is unbelievable how the GMs disregard bag limits and minimum sizes. When we weren't fishing we were chilling out at the Sunset pub enjoying a cold beer (remember the water was unsafe to drink and it has one of the best aspects to watch the sunset in Queensland if not Oz) or riding our fold up bikes around the town.

sigh............... another sunset....


Waz enjoying the bike..........




After four days of hearing the GMs moan (Waz got chipped by a cranky old fart at the boat ramp while doing nothing wrong) we decided that it was time to leave. The big lesson learnt from our Karumba experience was, do not, under any circumstances visit Karumba between May and mid August unless you like mixing it with gray nomads, packed boat ramps and camps with absolute road frontage. Would be an awesome spot any other time.

might bring a puppy home with us....

The crowded rocks at Karumba


Didn't have a wide lense to capture all of the boats at the ramp....

Our friends Kev and Carm (Kev Carmody) had arrived a few days earlier so we arranged a nice little trip out to Kingfisher Camp (about 100kms from the NT border) on our way further north west towards Boorooloola.

Leichardt Falls

watch out for those angry cows........

The drive to Kingfisher was an interesting one and we were finally back on some dirt - we love corrugations!!! We were flagged down by some German backpackers who had broken down on the side of the road just outside Burketown (what a dump but nice pub - dont expect food though). While Waz and Kev tinkered with the car we learnt that their old petrol 4WD had got stuck in a river crossing at 3pm the previous afternoon. Unfortuantely for them, no cars passed until lunch time the next day so they had to spend 12 hours in the croc infested river until they were rescued. The boys managed to fix the car, and they were on their way again.

Waz got an icebreak in Burketown, but broke his last pair of pluggers

We had planned to stay at Kingfisher Camp for 2 nights, but as soon as we arrived we knew that we would have to extend this by at least another night or two - there wasn't a caravan or grey nomad to be seen. King Fisher Camp was located on a beautiful 5km waterhole on the Nicholson River which happened to be home to squillions of fresh water crocodiles. On a typical day we would get up when it was warm enough, slowly caffeinate and breakfast ourselves and then head out on the river for a bit of croc spotting and fishing and head back to camp for late afternoon snacks and beers followed by dinner around the camp fire. We tried to extract local information from Young Mate (he was temporarily running the camp ground) but he was a couple of B52s short of a tackle box and hadn't been blessed in the brain department, all the same he was a nice bloke but wasn't able to offer us any local knowledge. He also had weird googly eyes and freaked me out a little bit. The fishing was a bit slow, but lots of fun. We caught archer fish, sooty grunter, mouth or mighty, long toms and a big stinking cat fish. There were barra there, we saw them every day and Waz hooked one that was over a metre but was unable to get the mongrel. After four nights at King Fisher it was time to make a move so we hit the road early and headed towards Hell's Gates, our final destination being 7 Emu Station.

fresh water croc - isn't he cute

sooty grunter

waterhole at KingFisher Camp