Chasing Horizons #24: Kakadu Dreams – Northern Territory, Australia

By: Phil Rado

Kakadu Dreams

The start any tour Down Under invariably involves a pick up at the crack of dawn. I could think of a few people back home that this would not suit at all and would be very grouchy with this arrangement first thing in the morning. No names mentioned.

I was collected at the Globetrotter Lodge at 7am by a very enthusiastic guide called Jeannie. For such an early hour she had boundless energy and approached all she did with a hyperactive fervour. Needless to say she zipped around Darwin town, making her other pickups, and in no time our small group was on our way.

On this three day tour of the Northern Territory’s second most popular tourist attraction there would only be eight of us passengers in a Toyota 4×4 Landcruiser towing a large trailer. To put everyone at ease straight away Jeannie used the novel approach of making everyone introduce themselves.

“Hello, my name is Keith and I have just been released on parole.”

Stunned silence.

Now we all knew Keith was joking but I just couldn’t come up with a reponse quick enough to his opening gambit. It was a very funny way to start our 200km+ drive to Kakadu National Park. This time the group consisted of three lovely biology students from California, a Dutchman, two Swiss guys, me and Keith. Keith was a Australian entrepreneur from Brisbane in Queensland.

Soon out of Darwin we turned east onto the Arnhem Highway. In no time we crossed the Adelaide River and took a dusty track to the Spectacular Jumping Crocodile Cruise. Before boarding the cruise boat we were able to have our morning tea and coffee, essential for those early morning starts. Jeannie produced a number of large and hopefully non-venomous snakes for us to handle. The one I plucked up the courage to drape around my neck was Ollie the Olive Python.

Once aboard the double-decker cruise boat our skipper cast off and almost immediately a large salt water crocodile was swimming its way towards us for his morning feed. There are two types of crocodile in Australia, the endemic freshwater (”freshie”), and the South-East Asian saltwater (”saltie”). They are found mainly in the north and as the name suggests the freshie is found in freshwater rivers and billabongs whilst the saltie can be found in or near any body of water, fresh or salt. The freshie has a narrower snout and rarely exceed 3m in length, they are harmless to people unless provoked. The saltie however can grow to 7m and looks upon us humans as a hearty meal, defiantly dangerous and best avoided. After a century of being hunted, crocodiles are now protected in NT, however they are a major tourist attraction – eating the odd tourist promotes this respect.

Unable to make a living after killing crocodiles was outlawed, an out-of-work crocodile hunter came up with an ingenious way of making the crocs jump out of the water. Juicy chunks of red meat are dangled above the water’s surface tantalizingly just out of reach of the crocodile’s snout. The tempted beast then uses its powerful tail to project three quarters of its body length to reach the morsel of meat.

Alternating on raised platforms on either side of the boat a crew member held out the bait tied to string on the end of bamboo poles. The crocodile was tempted three or four times, whilst us tourists snapped and videoed away, before it was given the food it had worked so hard to attain.

We cruised up and down the Adelaide River flushing more of the prehistoric animals out to come and perform. Within minutes the air was full of black-tail and whistling kites all competing for the scraps. At one stage some beautiful White Sea eagles appeared and although badgered by the more diminutive kites did a fine job to get in on the act.

With a number of operators now plying this niche in the tourist market the whole thing is a bit of a circus. Nevertheless it was enjoyable. We were assured, and I can quite well believe, that it is completely natural for crocodiles to jump out of the water like this to catch low flying birds or animals drinking at the water’s edge.

Back on the road we stopped at the Bark Hut Inn, a traditional Outback pub by the Mary River for petrol and supplies for our two nights bush camping in the park. To me that means a slab of beer, to the rest of the group a six-pack each. One and thirty kilometres from Darwin we turned right onto the Old Jim Jim track. This road was unpaved and is not the main route into Kakadu but would take us into the south eastern lowlands of the park.

The landscape was predominately ‘Savannah Woodland’ consisting of eucalypts and tall grasses. Interspersed were grass plains but I was informed by Jeannie that these are only grassed over floodplains. Every now and then we happened upon a billabong, which are pans of standing water, remnants of the vast bodies of water that spread over the plains during the wet season. It was alongside the particularly picturesque White-Lillie Billabong where we stopped to have cold meat sandwiches (standard tour fare) for lunch. Water birds such as egrets and Jabiru storks fished along the water’s edge and a herd of wild horses grazed under some nearby shady trees. On stepping out of the truck I was immediately set upon by 10-20 flies which persistently tried to fly into my ears or up my nose until after lunch when I climbed back into the truck to get under way.

The horses prompted Jeannie to tell a story. When the early pioneers came to the Northern Territory they bought with them stock animals such as horses and buffalo from Indonesia. In the 1800’s life was harsh and unforgiving. Eventually the initial settlements where abandoned and the returning settlers returned to their comfort zones in New South Wales. Rather than take their animals with them the horses and buffalo where turned loose. The freed animals thrived in the Australian conditions and threatened local endemic plants and wildlife. The buffalo carry brucellosis and tuberculosis, trampled the water’s edge of billabong and mud pools whilst horses graze on precious grasslands. Stockmen in the 1900’s have mustered and rounded up many of the feral buffalo and many of the cattle pens and stock pens can be seen all over the territory. The horses remain a problem and Australia has the highest number of wild horses than any other continent.

You need to be totally self sufficient when camping in Kakadu. It adds to the sense of adventure. With this in mind, and because we were told to by our guide, soon after lunch we were gathering wood along the side of the road for the forthcoming campfires. Further on down the road we rejoined the asphalted Kakadu Highway which runs north-south the length of the park.

After the exertions of fly swatting and wood gathering the heat of the day had started to get to me. I was feeling quite hot and bothered as we arrived the Maguk campground next to the Barramundi Creek. A short walk along through a tropical forest of pandanus palms and paperbark eucalypti bought us to the upper reaches of the gorge and the Barramundi Falls. The group couldn’t wait to clamber up the large rock and jump the 15-20 feet into the cool waters below. This idyllic spot is remote and full of rock pools. Jeannie, in her full-on way, sought out some underwater holes and preceded to set underwater swimming challenges for the group.

That evening we camped alongside the Sandy Billabong. With our dome tents pitched we settled down to a few beers and a lovely campfire dinner of beef sausages and kangaroo stir-fried over the coals.

Does anyone remember the old television program “Skippy, the Bush Kangaroo“? How come Skippy could talk and be well understood? He would bounce up to the farm house and the farmer would ask, “What’s the matter Skippy?”

Skippy would chirp, “Chuk-tuk-chuk chuk-tuk-chuk-tuk.”

Shocked, the farmer would exclaim, “You say young Billy has fallen down the mine shaft?”

“Chuk-tuk-chuk chuk,” Skippy would reply.

“He’s trapped down there and wants me to bring him some beans on toast for tea?” The farmer would interpret further.

I reckon the TV station was having us on about that talking kangaroo. So with no qualms I thoroughly enjoyed a bit of Skippy for dinner.

At sunrise the ever hardcore Jeannie kicked us out of our swags for an impossibly early morning start. The birdlife around the billabong at dawn was prolific. The banks and bushes were teeming with magpie geese, ducks, honey eaters, herons and jacanas. Our group were slow at breakfast however, and when we eventually left the camp – sans trailer and tents as we would return later that evening to camp in the same spot – Jeannie complained that we had set a new record for the slowest group to break camp ever. That’s was typical Jeannie, she is so competitive she tries to beat the other tour groups around Kakadu.

Today we drove the relatively short distance of 80km (all distances in Australia are long) over dusty dirt tracks. We crossed many dry creeks and floodplain areas which would be underwater and impassable during the Wet. To the east of Kakadu is the Arnhem Land escarpment. Dramatic sandstone cliffs 100-200m high, where creeks cut out spectacular waterfalls, form a natural boundary between the plateau and the lowlands. At the end of the track we disembarked, grabbing towels and cameras, and made our way from the car park. I noticed a sign stating that it was a further 900m walk to the plunge pool at Jim Jim falls. With the heat of the sun now baking down I felt every step of that 900m sap my strength. With t-shirts soaked through with sweat we made it to the top of the gorge.

The sight that greeted us was magnificent. 200m+ of sheer rock towered above. The cliffs formed an amphitheatre encircling ¾ all around us. Below was a huge green pool, maybe 200m across, with lovely cool clear water. October is the end of the dry season and the falls themselves were non-existent, this however didn’t distract from the splendour of the site. When the rains come the creeks tumble over the lip of the cliffs far above falling in a mass of spray and foam. The sight of Jim Jim Falls in full flow is a true Australiana icon but the pool where we were standing now becomes impossible to swim in.

Back at a nearby dusty campsite we had lunch of, you guessed it, cold meat sandwiches, after which Jeannie loaded us all up into the truck to give us a talk. “For the next few kilometres to ensure passenger comfort and safety I am required to maintain a high speed over the road.” She then proceeded to floor the accelerator as she flew over the most bumpy, sandy and rutted roads I think I have ever seen. Inside the passenger contents was flung about like beans in a jar, I don’t think there was any comfort part to this ride. I told that tour guide was hardcore.

At the end of the track we parked about a fair distance downstream of Twin Falls. To reach the falls required a swim of about 1km. I was slightly perturbed by a large net strung across the river to restrict the access of crocodiles further upstream; I hope the net is effective. We were given the choice of boogey boards to paddle but most of us chose to swim. I did notice that our guide did produce a pair of fins for her assistance but then again she had to paddle a water-proof barrel containing some food, drinks and cameras. The swim was pleasantly cooling; if you get tired you are able to cling to rocks and the cliff wall for a rest. We found the falls to be nothing more than a trickle, but the water was cool and drinkable. There was a beach of white sand covered with fellow tourists, the one or two acacia trees offering precious shade. We relaxed, swam and chatted. By late afternoon it was a group of reluctant travellers which had to swim the 1km swim back out.

On the way back to camp we made a brief stop at Yellow Waters alongside the South Alligator River for fuel, a cold beer and a peaceful sunset. Note how wrong the first explorers were. Mistaking the abundant crocodiles for alligators when they discovered and named the rivers in Kakadu. West Alligator River, East Alligator River, South Alligator River. I think it’s funny that no one has bothered to rectify the mistakes.

It was with weary limbs that we arrived back at camp for another night of bush camping under the stars. Shame the hardcore Jeannie was feeling under the weather and chose to lie down for a while. No worries there because I am completely at home cooking a bush BBQ. Swiss George helped out while I cooked T-bone steaks and buffalo sausages over the fire. The Californian girls made a tossed salad. Jeannie awoke and was impressed to find the evening’s meal all prepared and my chest swelled with pride.

The swimming segment of our trip to Kakadu was put on hold the next day. I was again reluctantly kicked out of bed. After breakfast the group broke down tents, packed up the trailer and made our way to the Warradjan Aboriginal Cultural Centre.

Kakadu, although leased by the federal Australian government for use as a national park, is owned by the original Aboriginal tribe from this area, the Gagadju. There are several Aboriginal settlements in the park but these are seldom seen. Three quarters of the park’s rangers are Aboriginal. The exhibits at the Warradjan centre give excellent insight into the culture and traditions of the park’s owners. The centre has been built to be reminiscent of the pig-nosed turtle, which is what Warradjan means. There are displays of how Aborigines live, hunt and cook. Local plants such as pandanus are used in basket making, dilly bags and woven mats. Rocks and soil for natural paints and dyes.

We then drove north to have lunch alongside the East Alligator River. This river provides an abundant supply of fish, mussels and waterfowl to the Aboriginal peoples. It is also a popular fishing spot for locals. It was here that an angler was fatally attacked by a crocodile whilst wading in the shallow waters. I kept well away from the water’s edge when I took my photo’s.

In the north of the park was the spectacular rock art site of Ubirr. This is up in the stone country of the escarpment of the Arnhem plateau. Amongst the rocky overhangs, rock shelters and outliers are some of Australia’s best ancient Aboriginal art. It’s been declared a World Heritage site. This site at Ubirr was a meeting place for Aboriginal tribes, some travelling from far a field. All the indigenous tribes have their own language so at the gatherings held at Ubirr rock paintings became a important communication tool. Depicting many stories and mythology.

We walked on a circular path around the site. Every inch of the smooth rock faces are adorned with artwork painted in earthy colours. There are human stick-like figures either hunting or at battle with opposing tribes. In the main gallery are X-ray style paintings in ochre red of fish, serpents and turtles. Some pictures even mark the first contact with non-Aboriginal people depicted with hands in their pockets, carrying axes and firearms.

At a branch in the track we climbed up to a rocky ledge and the Nadab lookout. Here the land stretched across a lush, green floodplain and into the forbidding Arnhem Land. This entire area is Aboriginal land and incorporates the entire north eastern part of the Top End. It is sparsely populated and all but closed to westerners. Tourists require a permit to enter.

Hot, tired and thirsty we made our way back to the Landcruiser for the long drive home. Continuing with the swimming theme the whole tour seemed to have taken, Jeannie still had one more spot to make a stop at. By late afternoon we were back at the Mary River where we were able to wash away the dust and grime picked up during the day in the Annaburroo billabong.

Finally our jam-packed tour of Kakadu National Park came to an end. I felt quite bushed and dirty being without a proper wash for three days. As the sun set we drove back along the Arnhem Highway to Darwin and a welcoming warm shower.