We left Alice Springs 6 weeks ago & are now sitting on a beautiful beach up near Darwin.
It’s not what where we had expected to be – fate threw us a curve ball & things changed.
The unexpected change was from certainty to uncertainty, a plan to no plan, a direction which has evolved as we go & which we have now embraced, though it felt a bit sketchy for a while.
Just a short distance north of Alice we turned off onto the Plenty Highway, the dirt road we had driven to get us from Boulia to Alice. However this first section of the dusty corrugated road was ‘virgin ground for us. On our way west we had turned off south onto the Binns Track to go into Ruby Gap.
The Binns Track is comprised of multiple 4wd tracks so ‘Binns Track’ is a collective name (named after Bill Binns, a long-serving NT Parks and Wildlife ranger) for a route which covers 2230kms from the South Australian Border up to Timber Creek in the Northern Territory. Now we were returning back to a junction on the ‘Plenty’ in order to head north, up to the Davenport Ranges, (Iytwelepenty NP) a remote unique National Park in the crossover area between deserts & tropics.
We passed the southern turn off & a few kms later turned north. The corrugations were enough to cause us to stop & reduce our tyre pressures. Always a hard decision. Now? Or later? In this instance we were happy with our decision after covering a few more Kms. Whilst stopped a car full of elderly folk from a nearby Aboriginal community stopped to enquire if everything was ok. We appreciated that.
After a while we turned off onto station tracks, which are almost always less corrugated than roads more used, heading to a spot known as ‘Tower Rock’. Although the road was good, there were plenty of signs that this had not been so recently, with sections of the roads clearly having been wet recently. Deep ruts & darker earth to avoid. We commented to each other that these were not roads to be caught out on if it rained.
Tower Rock was a grassy reminder of our campground back at Tibooburra. A less harsh environment, but with red bouldery hills. It would have been a very pleasant spot to stop at for a few days, but it was here we discovered an ominous weather forecast. Unseasonal big rains were forecast to sweep across from the Kimberley bring drenching amounts to Central Australia, especially where we had been recently on the Sandy Blight Junction Road, but also as far north as the Davenport Ranges. Figures of 100mm to 200mm rainfall were possible. Clearly this sort of rain out here was very serious. If we found ourselves out in this country in that, we would likely be stuck for weeks. And so, instead of soaking up the ambience of Tower Rock, our evening was spent poring over maps to find our best escape route.
This was to follow the Binns Track to the point that it turned north to the Davenport Ranges, but instead to swing west toward the Aboriginal community of Ali Currung. From there it was only about 20kms to the safety of the sealed Stuart Highway, with the joining road also being sealed. The unknown was what the track ahead of us would be like, more importantly how long it would take. We hoped we could beat the rain to the bitumen.
We did beat the rain and via the most enjoyable 4wd track we had driven to date. The track turned off across the wide Bundey River, dry with soft sand stretches, but with what would be little islands when the water was flowing, to stop for a brief breather every so often. Our experience at Ruby Gap held us in good stead, we had learned to have confidence in the OKA, & it’s Allison automatic gearbox made such crossings pleasurable rather than gut wrenching. The crossing was followed by many kilometres (60?) of tight twisty bright red sandy track, bringing us out onto the Sandover Hwy (dirt) shortly after passing the community of Atnwengerrpe. We were learning that there are so many more remote & small aboriginal communities ‘hidden away’ out in this country than we had realised. After a short stretch on the Sandover we turned onto the Murray Downs Rd & headed toward Ali Currung, stopping about 25kms short of the community, with the day’s journey having got us there earlier than we had expected. We were now confident we would reach the community (& sealed road) in the morning before any rain eventuated. Home for the night was at the side of the road.
Our plan was to seek advice from the police at Ali Currung, after all our maps said ‘call Ali Currung Police Station for road condition reports’ in regard to the Davenport Ranges. If they reckoned we’d get into the ranges before the rain hit, we’d go back & do that….maybe. What we needed to know was how long it was likely to be before impassable roads became passable, should the maximum amount of rain forecast eventuate. A few days to a week would be OK, but longer than that would see us unable to get to the festival at Barunga we had bought tickets for.
Coming out of the small general store where we had bought some eggs, something we had been unable to get in Alice Springs, I saw a police car driving by & waved him down to ask him the questions. The two constables confirmed what we had feared. “If the rain is the max forecast, roads out there will be closed for at least a couple of weeks” they said. “The actual roads will dry out quicker than that, but the issue will be the multiple creeks which will still be too deep to drive”.
And so our drive to the safety & firm base of the Stuart Highway had been the right thing to do, & we left the Davenport Ranges for another time. That night we camped at Karlu Karlu (The Devils Marbles), returning there after an absence of 16 years. The huge boulders were as impressive as ever, especially with the storm clouds brewing above them, but compared to 2009, they have been sanitised. Now one must walk only on set paths & only climb in particular spots. We understand the need for more regulation in these days of far more travellers being ‘out there’, many unable to respect the cultural lore & expectations of these special places, but the regulation seems to have replaced adventure & exploration with ‘commodification. My memory of the place, first & foremost will be the staring contest between a dingo up on the rocks & myself just after dawn many years ago. It rained overnight, but very lightly. We woke to grey skies & the dripping noise we get when water runs off the OKA’s roof & onto our canvas rubbish bags on it’s rear wall.
Refuelled at Tennant Creek, which looked as sad this time around as it ever did in the past.The real reasons for sadness hidden away out of sight of the highway. Squalid aboriginal housing unfit for dogs let alone people. The main street full of people with nowhere better to be & a higher than usual percentage of injured, either bandaged or missing limbs. I spent a couple of weeks in Tennant Creek, staying with friends of friends, 25 years ago. Never have I encountered the sort of community wide racism as I did among the white population who hosted us, accentuated at the time by the funeral of a young fella who’s body had been found at the bottom of a mine shaft. Everyone reckoned ‘he had it coming to him’ ‘cos he was a young black bastard. Mobs of blackfellas were in town from communities far & wide & the white folk were crapping themselves, expecting things to ‘go off’. So much so that a squad of specially armed police had been sent down from Darwin, & could be seen menacingly patrolling the streets with what looked like sub machine guns. There was plenty of bravado fuelling ever more obscene anti aboriginal rhetoric, but it was the bravado for the fearful glad to have the Darwin backup. As it was the fear was probably more of what they probably knew, deep down, that they deserved, rather than any real threat. Nothing happened.
Had a caravan park night that night at Banka Banka Station north of Tennant Creek. It rained more, but by now we were at the edge of the rain band, & only got around 30mm. Oddly further north at Katherine they had 6 times that and further south had more too. Never did find out how much fell over the Davenport Ranges! 30mm at Banka Banka was more than enough to turn the park’s tracks to deep red slush. We were concerned that the amount that had fallen in the Katherine area may impact upon the Barunga festival, so I contacted the organiser to find out. All was well & the festival was going ahead. I told her we were in the area a bit earlier than expected due to our rain dodging & asked if we might arrive early & help out in some way. Yes please was the response. We would arrive on the Monday before the Friday on which the festival began. We looked forward to the opportunity to ‘live’ in the community for a short time. But that was still 5 days away, & we were no more than a day’s drive south, so needed to think about where we might camp over the next 5 nights. Free camps (our preference) do not exist in great numbers up along the Stuart highway & those which do exist are mainly pragmatic solutions rather than desirable spots.
Our first of the 5 nights was at a sealed surface roadside rest area. The Sir Charles Todd Rest Area, a toilet & a number of caravans huddled together. When we discovered a dirt road leading off to the rear of the rest area, running parallel to the highway, but separated & hidden by a trees & bushes, the prospect of staying suddenly improved. We followed the track for a couple of Kms until we found somewhere to turn around & pulled up for the night on our lonesome, save for a good variety of birds who’s company we enjoyed.
Second night could not have been more different. At the self-labelled ‘iconic’ Daley Waters pub campground. Jam packed with caravans the place was super busy. Since we were last there ownership has been taken over by ‘Fat Tim’, an eccentric looking chap who swans around the little township squeezed into his electric mobility scooter, looking like a local ‘down & out’ who as been adopted by the apparently quirky community. Never for a moment would you see him & think he was the chap who owned just about everything you could see around you, including a very nice & very well curated collection of restored collectible cars & motorcycles & other vehicles worth many hundreds of thousands of dollars. What we recalled from previous visits has been accentuated & now all of Daly Waters is part of the package. By mid afternoon the place was full to the gills. MrsTea loved the idea of not having to cook, so we availed ourselves of the famous Daly Waters pub meals, which to be honest were a bit of a let down, made worse by having to listen to ‘Fat Tim’s voice at the microphone whilst a captive audience. A mix of ‘true blue’ Aussie populism & intolerant homophobic right wing politics. We wondered if this unpleasant wretch of a man loves nothing more than to laud himself as the ‘Lord of the Manor’ his money has built. We felt it unlikely that he could exert himself anywhere else that he didn’t own. I suppose if you enjoy country & western music you may have tapped your foot to the entertainer’s offerings, but by the time we had finished eating we were pleased to retire to bed early.
The next 3 nights were far more enjoyable! A bit north of Larrimah we found a wonderfully peaceful spot, cost free, perfectly level sites, huge, spacious, no flies or ants & surrounded by forest & birds. An old WW2 air field, hidden away a couple of kms off the highway. There were a handful of others staying there, but room for a 1000+ . 4 kms long with many intimate little tracks & paths off to the side. A camp to return to should we ever be in the vicinity again. We called Gorrie Airfield home for a couple of nights. It really was quite surprising in how good condition the airfield strip was in. A few spots where the bush has begun to take it back, but probably still good enough to land a plane on. This was not a concern we had after realising that there is an active & lit airstrip just south at Larrimah. Sitting in the shade of our vehicle, we needed binoculars to see our nearest camping ’neighbours’. The Agile Wallabies regularly crossing the air strip came much closer, often stopping mid crossing to stare at us in a manner we thought quizzical.
And then another caravan park for a night. This one unusual in that we enjoyed being there. All sites set among the palms & other tropical trees, providing a very un-caravan park-like ambience. The was the CP at Bitter Springs, Mataranka. Close to the well known ‘floating creek’ of crystal clear underground water of a perfect temperature. Take a pool noodle & let the current carry you along it’s length, & repeat as many time as you like. Lots of people but never overcrowded enough to impinge on the ultra relaxing natural luxury.
And so to Barunga.
The festival is unusual in that the site is essentially the whole town. Public spaces throughout the town with private housing in amongst it all. A festival as much for all those who attend from communities around Katherine & right across Arnhem Land as it is for the likes of us. Even as we turned off the Stuart Highway into Arnhem Land we could sense we were in a ‘different’ place. The surrounding tropical bush we were driving through had a different feel. The feel of being largely untouched. Hard to pin it down but we could feel it. Both of us recognised this & talked about it as we drove.With this came a sense of excitement which comes with new exploration. For those of you not in Australia, Arnhem Land is a huge area within the Northern Territory which is Aboriginal land. Here, unlike the rest of Australia, most folk living there are still living on country their ancestors have been connected to for millennia. Culture is strong. Permits are required to enter, & numbers limited in order to help protect cultural & traditional values. Entering Arnhem Land is a privilege.
Arrival at Barunga brought surprise. Unlike many other communities we have visited which give an initial appearance of ‘uncared for’, overgrown, rubbish strewn around, dead cars, etc etc (Which we know only serves to confirm many people’s negative thoughts, but also know from experience that ‘you cannot judge a book by it’s cover.), Barunga could not have been more different. Entered into a ’Tidy Towns’ competition it could easily be a winner. And this before the frenzy of festival preparation which would happen over the next few days. A beautiful place, set alongside the river, clearly a place valued by those who are lucky enough to live there. Our only other visit to Arnhem Land, to the town of Ngukurr some years back had a similar feel, one which we believe comes from the self esteem of being where you belong.
Over the course of the week leading up to the festival we got to know a few folk, primarily either by befriending some of the dogs who wander freely & then meeting their owners or by inquisitive children keen to see the inside of our OKA, bringing their family members back out to see us as well. 3 legged ’Stumpy’ (as we called him) adopted us & would sleep on one of our chairs overnight. A group of youngsters would drop by most days after school, making the OKA the centre of their playground. At times, like most kids of their age they tried to push limits, & sometimes ’No’ had to repeated a few times, but they were good kids.
Surprisingly (to us) we were never asked to do anything at all by the event organiser,. We were the first folk in town to be wearing the wristbands which signified we had paid for tickets, given to us when we arrived, despite no -one asking for proof we had paid (we had). The kids were very interested about us having the wristbands before the festival began, because town residents had all been given wristbands, but told not to wear them until the Festival opened.
The festival itself was a joy. Billed as a mix of music, dance, sport, traditional art and culture and cultural exchange. Surprisingly we enjoyed the sport most, not so much the softball & basketball, but very much the AFL football. Mainly indigenous teams from across Arnhem Land, but also a team from the NT’s western Wadeye (Port Keats) community, & a mixed team from Norforce, (the NT military ). With the exception of Norforce all were from remote communities, each fielding both men’s & women’s teams. Spectating at the games, which occurred as a knockout competition across the 3 days was a highlight, as it brought everyone together so well. At one match we sat next to an older lady who told us about her life in between loudly shouting encouragement & advice to players. She was the same age as us, & had been born in Barunga. At our age she was now a respected elder, something we witnessed first hand. Somewhere behind where we were sat a bit of a blue began between a group of young male youths, we hadn’t noticed, but she was straight onto it, striding into the midst of it before it got out of hand, she was quite formidable & instantly the boys accepted her authority & the brouhaha was over & done. We tried to imagine an old white lady back home doing the same, but couldn’t. What she did required both self assurance & courage. But it didn’t stop there. As soon as the youths had settled down she went straight over to a pair of uniformed policemen, & quietly dressed them down for having done nothing when they saw the trouble beginning. She wasn’t trying to publicly humiliate the police, & we would have been unaware of her actions had she not told us upon her return. All this she simply saw as her duty/responsibility, but she did talk a bit about police tending to leave interventions too late, often with the result of young black youths being arrested & sadly sucked into the legal system. This is so common that arrests & charges simply don’t carry the same stigma as they do in white society, it’s just a fact of life rather than a ‘black mark’.
The crowds around the games were enthusiastic & the quality of sportsmanship high. Often the barracking, advice offered loudly to the umpires was non stop, witty & amusing, making the off field & on field antics equally entertaining.
The best dancers were from Numbalwar, known as the Red Flag Dancers as they all dance holding triangular red flags, signifying their historical association with Maccassan traders who have brought their boats to the Arnhem land shores from Sulawesi, Indonesia since the 18th century, in search of trepang (Sea cucumbers), and mixed with those who lived there. Their boats had triangular sails. The dancing was energetic with lots of footwork to throw up clouds of dust. It almost didn’t happen. The dancers had a complicated journey to reach the festival, with many routes cut off by swollen rivers resulting from the late wet season rains.
We enjoyed the performance by the Melbourne based Ilbejerri theatre company. A musical telling of the story of the Warumpi Band, incorporating all their best music. The performance enhanced by the knowledge that family members of the original band had come to the festival specially to see the performance & were in the audience. Many of the other bands were hip hop & rap which although clearly popular with the young were to us tedious. It’s fair to say that whilst it is not really our thing, there is one aboriginal rap singer I think stands head & shoulders above all, black & white, primarily because of the emotional power he imbues his songs with….. Briggs. He wasn’t at Barunga, I only mention him to say that I recognise this style of music can be really good, whilst most is alien & tedious to me. Perhaps it’s just an age thing?
The cultural workshops sadly, we felt, missed an opportunity. Nothing to do with those conducting them, more to do with the external event organisation & festival structure. These workshops were paid extras in addition to the cost of the festival tickets. In our view the opportunity of sitting & yarning with aboriginal folk was probably something many white visitors yearned for, but with awkwardness on both sides to initiate this. A formalised ‘funneling’, to bring folk together via the festival’s structure would be a valuable means of overcoming some of this awkwardness & our feeling was that free workshops for all could have played a much bigger part in facilitating cultural exchange.
Yes we talked to folk whilst we shared their community space, & when we sat alongside them as audience members, but we did feel this aspect needed a higher focus. The questionnaire emailed to ticket purchasers after the festival failed to ask anything about ‘cultural exchange’, but instead focussed upon things like how much money we had spent whilst in the Northern Territory, placing the festival very much in the realm of a Northern Territory tourist attraction. This is a festival with a 40 year history, & a significant contributor to what became the Aboriginal Land Rights movement, with the Barunga Statement to the Australian Government now hung in parliament House, Canberra) in 1988 calling for Land Rights & a Treaty being handed to the then Prime Minister, Bob Hawke at Barunga following the coming together of aboriginal peoples from far & wide across the entire country. (https://www.commongrace.org.au/barunga_statement). Listen to the words of the Yothu Yindi song ‘Treaty’ which refer to the call for Treaty ‘back in ’88’.
Politics were however still palpable at Barunga. The opening ceremony had speeches from a couple of politicians, but it was the heartfelt words of an elderly aboriginal woman who talked at length about family & community which raised goosebumps, when during her speech several men silently walked across the front of the stage to hold banners saying ‘We Stand with Yuendumu’ & ‘Justice for White’. References to the latest killing of a young aboriginal man, Kumanjayi White, by an off duty Northern Territory policeman in an Alice Springs supermarket. (Kumanjayi being a respectful name applied to someone who has died, rather than using the name by which they were known when alive). Her speech made reference to this & here among folk who have been living with the structural & institutionalised racism which allows this sort of thing to continue, & having been, ourselves, in the Alice Springs supermarket aisle where the latest killing took place just days before it occurred, it all felt very real & close. It also felt important to see that people were genuinely grieving for one of their own, from different country & different clan, but still one of their own. Far more meaningful than Tv news reports, which is all most folk ever see.
The festival was over & done all too soon, but we think another Barunga Festival will be in our future.
Time to move on, as arranged months earlier, to a small privately owned ‘bush camp’ a short drive from Katherine, where we had arranged to be caretakers until the end of September. In Katherine we stopped to re-stock our dwindling food supplies & then headed out of town to the ‘bush camp’.
On arrival we were met by the outgoing caretakers, who then introduced us to the owners, before taking us around & telling us what was what & what they had been doing.
Looking back, we were already, at this early stage, picking up that there was far more expected of us than we had been led to believe when we had agreed to take on the role. The initial ad had stressed that ‘It’s not much really’ but it quickly became apparent that the outgoing caretakers had been effectively working as two full time, 24/7 caravan park managers, required to be always on call for bookings, using their own phone and to be present at the site at all times. Even going into town to get supplies needed to be negotiated with the owners, to fit in with their plans. The suggestion being we could nip into town for a couple of hours, by arrangement, on a Saturday morning when the owner was not at work, to shop for supplies! Cash only camping fees taken (no receipts given) & accounts managed, along with site bookings & patrons shown to their sites on arrival, amenities cleaned twice daily, wood chopped & the donkey boiler lit & managed twice daily to provide hot water, daily hosting of ‘happy hour’ for guests, regular moving of hoses & sprinklers to keep the grass green, & the feeding of animals. The requirement of needing to be there at most times, & covering the duties for the recompense offered, had alarm bells ringing for us, not because we couldn’t manage what was required but because it was far in excess of what we had previously been told – in terms of time commitment, & with the recompense being nothing more than a powered camp spot & one free meal a week, it felt unreasonably exploitative.
But we were keen to please, & prepared to give it a go, to see how it panned out for a week or two. The owners had made the statement when we were making our commitment that if it didn’t suit we would be free to leave at any time.
Early the following morning we were shocked to receive a phone call from one of the owners saying that they had deemed us unsuitable & that we could go.
In hindsight we think it was a bullet dodged. We had discovered a number of safety issues around the site, & have the sense that if a guest were injured that we, as the ‘on the ground’ caretakers would be considered to have a ‘duty of care’, but quite probably without the back up of the owners. We were led to believe that there was no liability insurance, not even a first aid kit.
The worst part though, was that during the phone call the owner had told us that it was us who were not up to the job, essentially suggesting the decision to sack us before we had even started was a result of our inadequacy, when clearly what they had picked up on was our sense of being exploited & discomfort with putting ourselves in the firing line for them.
As a result we left feeling angry & abused, & took several days to process what had happened, helped in great part by crafting an email we sent to them, not expecting any response, & never receiving one.
We also left with no idea where we might go or what we might do. 3 months earlier we had committed for 3 months. Our travel plans had been built around this, we had kept our commitment & arrived as promised, the 3 months at Katherine would take us up to the time we are expected at Mt Elizabeth station to caretake for the wet season & a single phone call had sent all this awry. What to do & where to go? We considered heading into Arnhem Land, the idea held great appeal & we applied for our permits. By the time our permits were granted we had realised that they were of no use, as camping is restricted to a number of specific sites & we had found they were all fully booked. So we think we will now visit Arnhem Land in 2026, booking sites early at the beginning of the year. Booking ahead is not our preferred way to travel, but for Arnhem Land we feel willing to make an exception.
Still the dilemma of where to go. We have visited Kakadu NP a couple of times in the past (& loved it) but all of the places we haven’t seen were (& still are) closed due to late wet season rains (Both tracks still flooded, & uncertainty about presence of crocodiles). It looks like Kakadu won’t be fully open until the end of July at the earliest this year. Similar, but to a lesser extent at Litchfield NP.
So….. no plan ….. just take things one day at a time. We headed north from Katherine stopping first at an ‘old favourite’ – Edith Falls. A lovely NP campground where most sites come with their own separate little lawn area, with beautiful waterfalls & swimming. The main swimming area (the lower pool)was closed as crocodile surveys were yet to be completed. Evidence easily seen of high water levels in recent times. However the upper pools & falls were open, & we looked forward to returning to a lovely spot we had discovered in years gone by. A hole in the rocks where constant water runs in & out of, creating a natural spa pool a couple of metres wide & neck deep water. All shaded from the hot sun by the rock formations surrounding it. Bliss! Not this time though! As we approached the upper pool we could hear the roar of the water – loudly. The water over the falls was far greater than we have seen in at least 6 previous visits, making water levels high enough to completely cover ‘our’ private spa. Nevertheless we still had a good swim followed by a circular walk back to the campground which afforded us some spectacular views.
North from Edith Falls, we were able to find a bush camp close to where Stuart highway crosses the Fergusson River. Hidden away alongside the river, with a beach all to ourselves. We stayed 3 nights. Mainly just relaxing, no swimming as we saw our first croc of the trip – a regular basking on a small sandbar each day in the mid to late afternoon. A Freshwater croc about 2 metres long. Not generally considered dangerous (unless provoked. Our reasoning was that there could be Saltwater crocs around too, so no swimming & staying away from the water’s edge. Just observation from a respectful distance.
We were disturbed one night, awoken unexpectedly by the arrival at around 4am of a Toyota Landcruiser with a loud exhaust. Where we were parked it could not have come past us, & we knew that the track behind us was overgrown & impassable. The car was left just 20 metres behind us with the only way to get there down a steep & eroded, but high dead grass covered bank. Peering out of the window I observed 3 people with torches walking away from both the vehicle & us. 24 hours later the vehicle was still there & many aspects about it’s presence suggested (to us) that it was a stolen vehicle which had been dumped. We thought perhaps it’s occupants had accomplices in another vehicle & had left the scene. This area was quite remote. We informed the police by phone using our starlink connection (no phone signal there).
More than 36 hours after their arrival the occupants returned. Not 3, but 6 people, a group of young lads who had it seemed had a night of fishing & drinking some distance away from where they left the car! We had looked around during the day and seen no sign of them. I told them sheepishly that we had reported the car as stolen & they were unconcerned. When they left I called the police again to et them know the outcome. They had already ascertained that it was not a stolen vehicle. We think the car must have belonged to one of the boys parents. Not sure what he/she may have thought if they had seen the loud very gung ho departure route they took, wheels spinning through the chest height grass up the steep embankment!
Belatedly, whilst at Edith Falls I had discovered two lots of damage to the sidewall of one of the OKA’s rear tyres. Or more accurately I had become aware of a split running through both ‘gouges’, sustained when we had the tyres at low pressure in the rocky sections of Ruby Gap some weeks earlier. The tyre was still holding pressure, but the splits had been playing on my mind for a couple of days. They were particularly noticeable when at the bottom of the tyre & the tyre on a rock. They would gape open. I had put white marks at the each end of each split to observe whether the splits were getting longer. If so I would switch the tyre with a spare, & look at getting a replacement up in Darwin.
Well the splits had not lengthened & we had covered several thousand kms since the damage was done. No tyre wall reinforcement could be seen inside the ‘injury’, so I concluded that being truck tyres with strong sidewalls that the damage was essentially cosmetic, albeit ugly. Our wheel rims are two part steel affairs, with an o ring which fits between the two parts, to enable the use of tubeless tyres. These rims are 19.5” diameter & the only o rings I could get to suit are for 20 inch grader wheels. They can be made to work, but it’s tricky (so I’m told), so before leaving home I bought a couple of bottles of black rubber super glue from Temu & tested it. A Chinese copy of a Loctite product. It tested very well. Here at Fergusson River I decided to glue up the side wall splits. Aesthetics more than actual repair, but in the belief that preventing the splits ‘gaping’ open was probably a good idea. Did one at a time. Positioned the wheel to get maximum ‘gape’, filled it with the glue, then moved the truck a little to allow the split to close up & left for 24 hours. It has worked beautifully! Since then we have used the tyre at a variety of pressures in a variety of terrains & the glue is still holding them. People are quick to criticise Temu, often with good reason, but these $4 a pop bottles of glue were a great buy!
It was nice to stop for a few days – even got a bit of birdwatching in. Paperbark Flycatchers, LeadenFlycatcher,Masked finch,White-gaped honeyeaters, Little pied Cormorants, a Darter, Rainbow Bee-eaters, Sulphur -crest cockatoos & White-bellied Cuckoo-shrikes (of various sizes which seemed a bit unusual within the same location)
We stopped at Pine Creek to top up our water tanks before driving our to Umbrawarra Gorge. The first place we have been where the only water tap advertised was too far away for our hoses to reach. After asking about alternatives in several places around the small town, only to be met with disinterest & no luck, I asked an elderly aboriginal chap walking by. He didn’t know of any but suggested I ask at the council offices which we did. A series of phone calls within the council offices ‘found’ a tap for us close to the tiny public library. The librarian wasn’t comfortable about whether the water was potable or not but suggested I ask ‘old mate’ over the on the ride on mower. I flagged him down & he showed me the tap, saying it’s good water, & is often used by motorhomes & caravans! He seemed to be the only Pine Creek resident with that knowledge. He was right about the quality too. We haven’t been sick!
Umbrawarra Gorge. The photos can speak for themselves. The walk into the gorge from the campground was relatively short & the rock hopping along the way not too onerous & we both enjoyed a swim.
Whilst here we decided to explore the Douglas Daly area on the western side of the Stuart Highway, not having done so in the past. The map suggested we could get to Oolloo Crossing following dirt roads for around 40kms from Umbrawarra gorge. Leaving the camp ground took us over a river & immediately up a long & exceptionally steep hill, sealed surface, but requiring first gear, with a few moments where I was wondering whether I should have selected low ratio on the transfer case. Phew! When the hill flattened out at the top, we were met with a sign ’No access – Station Vehicles Only. They could have put the damn sign at the bottom of the hill! Instead of 40kms, the route to Ooloo Crossing took 160kms, passing other familiar sounding signs to the region’s attractions – Hot Springs, Butterfly gorge etc – all closed at present. Sigh. Would the journey to Ooloo Crossing be worth the effort we wondered. Well it was. We had the place all to ourselves for a couple of very relaxing days in the shade of some riparian rain forest, & a short walk to look out over a very picturesque section of the Daly river. A few wallabies around, lots of birds including one new one for my list – an Arafura Fantail (no pic sadly) Travelling down Ooloo road to the crossing we passed extensive plantations of trees we didn’t recognise, but have since identified as Sandalwood. Seems (to us) that this whole area is one where the country & water (ground water, Daly River & Douglas River) are seen primarily as agricultural assets. However we believe the sandalwood industry as well as cotton farming in the area have probably left many farmers unhappy with failed crops & the bottom dropping out of the Sandalwood market (we are led to believe that extensive Sandalwood plantations around Kununurra in WA are a huge white elephant, with the only sales today being bags of firewood). All properties in the area seem well fenced with large robust gates. We know there are a lot of controversial proposals to use ever more of the area’s water, & our imaginations as we drove past all these shut off & hidden properties via an excellent sealed road to nowhere suggested there could be big money to be made out there, but that publicity is not welcome.
Another camp spot off the Oolloo Road is Crystal Falls, a set of rapids close to the confluence of the Douglas & Daly Rivers. We drove out to have a look, including a number of kilometres down a very tight & scartchy road, in 4wd on soft sand. The camp site had one solar friendly spot which was already taken by a group from Darwin. They were friendly, but let us know they had several more mates coming down to party over the next few days. Access to the river was far from easy, down a long & steep embankment, & the water could not be seen from the camp. We decided not to stay & instead headed north again to the busy but lovely Robin Falls free campground. Possibly the last time it will be free, as it has recently been included in an expansion of Litchfield NP.
The falls themselves were hard work to get to, but the real attraction was the ability to camp right on the bank of a beautiful crystal clear creek, with our own little bathing pool just a few steps from the OKA. Camp spots like this are all along the creek for around a kilometre.
4 days & nights were spent soaking up the ambience, & getting several new birds to add to my list. The place is very popular for good reason. We were lucky & got a great spot when we arrived. The OKA made for a good physical barrier, shutting out the cars coming in & out behind us, & in front of us just the creek & the tropical greenery behind it. Of course it didn’t stop the occasional OKA admirer popping down for a natter. Oh, and the occasional game of ‘Pooh Sticks’, trying to judge the curents in different parts of the creek. 🙂 The 4 days & nights were a glorious mix of bird watching, soaking in the creek, relaxing & just the right amount of pleasant social interaction. It did however put our battery system to it’s biggest test yet, a result of being under trees the entire time with virtually no solar input. When we left our battery (350Ah Lithium) was down to 33%, the lowest it as ever been. We suspect we may have got one more night out of it with care if we’d had to, but chose to go to the show grounds at Adelaide River, just 12kms up the road & to take a powered site for the first time. Plugged into 240v power the inverter charger started pumping in 140amps instantly & the battery was back up 100% in under 2 hours. Great stuff, I do like our lithium battery. Folk had been telling me for years what a game changer they were compared to our old lead acid batteries & they were right. We now take boiling an electric kettle for a cuppa as normal. If we are in the sun we can run indefinitely without need for plugging in to mains, but the fast charging at Adelaide River was an eyeopener.
New birds at Robin Falls – Northern Fantail, Rufous-throated honeyeater, Rufous banded-honeyeater (far more scarce than Rufous-throated), Arafura Shrike-thrush & a single Bar-breasted Honeyeater.
We took the opportunity to put two loads of washing through the machine at the small showgrounds, & the soft ant-free grass encouraged me to get under the truck to do some routine maintenance – greasing the many nipples. One (Just one of 30 or so) is a real bugger to access, on the rearmost uni-joint of the rear prop shaft. I used the jack to lift up the rear wheels so they could be turned in order to turn the prop shaft to the most accessible position. The strategy failed- painfully. The jack, on a hardwood block tipped suddenly to one side dropping the truck & the jack hitting my knee. The timber block had sunk into the ground on one side. MrsTea was scared I’d been crushed (not possible of course with the wheels still attached) but the dent just below my kneecap remained for several days, no broken skin. Took several days for the yellow bruise to appear , & now almost 2 weeks later it’s still a little tender if pressed. Any way I gave up with the jack & instead started the truck & moved it back & forth slightly with MrsTea on the UHF radio telling me when to stop to get the grease nipple at it’s most accessible point. It could have taken a while doing it that way, but we got lucky and managed pretty much straight away. Before we left we phoned an order to the butchers in Humpty Doo, to be cryovac’d & frozen for us to collect a few days later after we had been to Litchfield NP.
Litchfield is another place we have visited in the past but never to the falls along the Reynolds River 4wd track at the ‘back’ of the park. Unable to drive in from the Daly River road, we had to go the long way round, through Bachelor, because the southern end of the track was still flooded & closed. On our way we stopped off at another couple of spots tat we have missed in the past. Tolmer falls & the 1.5km walking trail there and Tjaejaba falls via the 3.7km return Greenant creek walking track. This pushed MrsTea’s arthritic knees to the limit & she struggled, but soldiered on wth no other choice. Painful. I hadn’t taken bathers, but couldn’t resist a dip at the ‘infinity pool at the top of the falls in just my undies. Usually it is MrsTea who is first into the water, but this time she sat it out.
The water crossing at the northern end of the Reynolds River track came as a bit of a surprise. 600mm deep at it’s deepest point, but most of it less than that. More daunting than the croc signs was the fact that it is a crossing where the exit cannot be seen until you are part way across & committed. This can be seen in the video below taken on our way back out when both I and the driver coming the other way surprised each other mid crossing. Sorry about the expletive uttered!
Oh but the Tjaynera Falls were magnificent, the best combination of scenic falls & easy access swimming in crystal clear water we have encountered anywhere, & the walking trail there & back from the Sandy Creek campground wasn’t too taxing on MrsTea’s knees.
As we drove back out we saw that the ranger who had popped into the campground on our second evening, had unlocked the gate, opening up the southern section. We would have really loved to have taken that route, but we needed to collect our meat order in Humpty Doo before they closed for the weekend. However when we return south toward Katherine again, we may well revisit both the Reynolds River track, Tjaynera Falls & the falls further down the now open southern section of the track.
We had been very explicit on the phone about how we wanted the meat order packed, in as flat as possible, meal size portions for two. Even had the butcher read it back to us, and stressed the importance to ensure we could fit it all into our freezer. MrsTea wanted to check the contents at the shop, but the butcher said “It’s all there, just as you ordered” & we accepted their word. It was all there but outside in the hot sun we realised two things. They had not packed it as we asked for, & placed all the packages into one large carrier bag, Now we had to deal with one large solid lump of separate items all frozen together. It took a bit of effort to separate everything & that was when we realised that nothing had been packed as ordered. We did our best, but returned all the chicken (all packed & frozen into one large lump rather than six separate packs) to the shop for a refund as it was impossible to fit it in. The refund was given grumpily. The meat, as it turns out is excellent, much nicer eating than ’supermarket’ quality, but lesson learned. 1. Go to butchers in person & ensure they understand how we want it packed before freezing it & 2. Always check the order when collecting. It was a $400+ order, & MsTea said if she had checked before leaving the shop she would have left it there.
Over the almost 10,000kms we have driven the OKA since leaving home in Victoria one thing has bugged me about it. The Allison auto transmission, whilst very nice (especially in soft sand) often changes up sooner than I would like (except when my foot is hard down on the accelerator pedal). The result is that quite often I find myself driving with 1100 rpm showing. I would prefer in many instances to be a gear lower with the revs at around 1600rpm. It’s not terrible, but it could be better. Sooo.. we decided we would see if we could find an Allison specialist in Darwin. Penske is the company. Over the phone & email they took the details of the transmission, it’s electronic control module (computer), the Tbar shifter & the electronic throttle pedal & sent this info off to Allison in the USA to see what is possible. The good news is that with a bit of rewiring an economy/power ‘Mode’ switch can be added, which will allow me to operate the transmission just as I want to. Getting to this point took a few days, during which we stayed at Bruno’s El Rancho Relaxo, crappy name but a nice enough small private campground for $20 a night unpowered in a semi rural setting with plenty of space at Humpty Doo. 5 Days & nights, during which we also met a couple of OKA owners from South Australia, whom we have known online, & ad a visit from Chris & Mehan, locals interested in truck based motorhomes visited. Nice couple. Chris originates from the region of the UK I was raised in. Pemske don’t have any auto electricians on staff, so we have requested they recommend/source one who can muck around with our Allison TCM (Transmission Control Module) without stuffing it up. Seems this is a request which has needed to be passed through the company’s hierarchy to higher levels, & we are still waiting, but are now doing so about 160kms south west of Darwin camped between the Pandanus & the beach at a free bush camp on Dundee Beach a short drive north of the town of the same name. And very nice it is too. No swimming here though. A couple of days ago we saw a large (approx 4 metres) Saltie cruising along parallel to the beach on the high tide, about 30 metres from shore. It had a large turtle in it’s mouth, & we think it was looking for somewhere to come out of the water to more easily break up it’s prey, but a couple of other campers along the beach thought it fun to hover their drones just above it, driving it back under water.
Hopefully we’ll hear about an auto electrician soon, & be able to get the work done before we start heading back towards & Katherine & then west to friends in Kununurra, WA. In the meantime it has given me time to write this post as well as to attend a few other chores.
For now ‘that’s all folks’
Hope you have enjoyed the read & the pics.
Feel free to drop us a line so we know someone has taken the time to read what I’ve written 😉
All the best
Cuppa & MrsTea.