TOD Tour 2.0 Day 50 - Yellow Waters Cruise

A defining end to a special day is captured in this sunset photo taken on the Yellow Waters Billabong, just off the South Alligator River.

We went on this cruise with very high expectations. We'd done it before ... and before that. We'd been captivated by the beauty of Kakadu and its ferocious wildness, its diversity and its uniqueness. We'd seen creatures that took your breath away and those that wanted to take your breath away ... and we'd sat through that sunset before. Couldn't be as good again, could it? It wasn't. It was better.

I had thought that being here at the end of the dry season would be a bad thing, mostly because the water levels would be so low and habitats so shrunken but I had factored it wrong. The shrinking waterways actually concentrate birds and animals into a smaller space. Even the plants that are still flowering, are doing so prolifically. As a result, our cruise was a smorgasbord of flora and fauna.

So many birdies and everywhere you looked. Egrets are here in abundance, particularly the Cattle Egrets, who make their living picking ticks and other bugs off the soon to be culled buffalo. The most destructive force in Kakadu are these introduced hooved monsters, who destroy the water verges with their wallowing. Pigs and brumbies and the next worst in creating havoc.

In our two and a half hours we saw lots of birds but some were special: like the Azure Kingfisher, which dipped and dived into the water from its perches about a metre of the river. In between it sat there boldly displaying its striking blues and orange. A giant Sea Eagle perched on the highest branch of the highest tree in order to find a lazy fish with its razor sharp eyes and then dive down on it silently to remove it to it dinner table. A Whistling Kite, a populous member of the feathered clans in the Northern Territory was watching its nest and calling to anyone who would listen. Thousands of Brown Whistling Ducks were on either bank. A loving pair of Shiny Flycatchers were darting about the water's edge. Jacana were defying science by appearing to walk across the water from lillypad to lillypad, their actions giving an obvious explanation for their nickname of Jesus Bird. The rare Great Billed Heron, a really tall bird, stood shyly searching for treats until we got too close and then almost serenely rose into the air for a short flight to a nearby fallen tree. A Darter emerged from the river and flew to dry ground and then held its wings, wet, glossy and black, out in a crucifix pattern to dry. Its a bird that hunts in the water and yet, its feathers are not waterproof.


A Black-Necked Stork, more commonly known as a Jabiru, stood in stately array with one leg held up against the other, even in the face of an approaching crocodile.

Crocodiles.

We saw plenty of those ancient hunting machines. Virtually unchanged since the dinosaurs, they are an awesome beast. Estimates at this time of the seasons - they don't say year up here because the seasons have no fixed calendar date - have the South Alligator River populated with 100 saltwater crocodiles for every kilometre of river. Even the smallest give you pause for thought and a clear understanding of why tour operators run flat bottomed, untipable boat. We must have seen ten or eleven crocs but without doubt, one mean looking specimen which was cooling itself - they have their mouth open - on the lower bank, right beside the water, was just plain scary. More than four and a half meters long (15ft or the length of our van) and weighing over 500kg, the damned thing was monsterous from up close and up close we got. Apparently, even the biggest saltwater crocodile can propel itself from the water a distance of five metres to grab unsuspecting prey and they can do this from being completely submerged and explode from the water at about 80km/hr.


The bow of our boat got within three metres of Mr Crocodile. I didn't smile. I taught Kindergarten. I knew the protocol. I moved from unnerved, to scared, to fetch my brown corduroys.

This amazing cruise finished where we started back on the Yellow Waters Billabong ... about where this blog started, watching the sunset. We were all silent. There was just the slow plink, plink, plink of water on the aluminium hull, birds calling their regrets of incomplete tasks and others, like the Rufous Night Heron, getting started on their night rounds. It was magic really.

Click for today's photos

For Sue, the magic started earlier in the day at the Warradjan Cultural Centre, where she sat with Elder Violet Lawson, one of the custodians of the land and learned how to weave pandanas into ornamental bangles. Sue repaid her in kind, noticing her struggling with a sore back, so showing her the exercises she does. Violet would catch up with Sue the next day to say thanks and report the exercise as helping.

This place has seeped into our bones ... again.

TOD Tour 2.0 Days 47&48 - Leliyn

Lower Falls plunge pool

Our first out of range experience of the tour was at the northern end of Nitmiluk National Park, in the Leliyn section.

Formerly known as Edith Falls, it was one of the places most enjoyed by the crew when we bought the kids here back in the mid 1990's (AUC Tour). There are two falls but most only know the smaller bottom falls which drops into an enormous plunge pool which would otherwise be worthy of be called a lake. Its this body of water which lies beside the day use and camping area of the park and it is surrounded on three sides with near vertical cliffs. The combination of the cliffs and the expanse of water and the falls in the far distance, makes for stunning photographs, particularly in the late afternoon.

The Edith River empties at the pool at the south western corner, where a bridge crosses the river and provides the infrastructure for a substantial barrier to span the entire river/creek.

The barrier is there to keep crocodiles out.

When we visited twenty four years ago, we were told unequivocally that although freshwater crocodiles were present, they wouldn't eat you ... maybe just nip at your toes and feet or hands but only if you put them in the water after dark when turtles were the prized catch. We were also told, that estuarine or saltwater crocs were never found and would never be found at Edith Falls.

Arriving at the plunge pool on this trip, there were warning sign for saltwater crocodiles but the NT national parks consider the risk to be "very low". I have my own saying. "Very low means no, no, no".

Sue, of course, swam several times a day, floating out into the deeper water on her noodle like a human tea bag. The concept of her being in the hot water didn't escape me. Others swam. Kids, grandparents, backpackers: the latter crossing the 150m distance to the base of the Falls, lounging there and then swimming back, perhaps oblivious that a tourist drowned at the Upper Falls two weeks ago when they were sucked under by the current created by the falling water.

Click for today's photos

No one of them were attacked or taken by a crocodile. The conclusion is obvious. They were lucky.

We had two very pleasant days here. Being unplugged from family was part of that pleasure.

Yellow Waters Sunrise Cruise

Our sunrise cruise required a 6:45 am dock departure time, in order we might catch this wonder as it occurred over the still and peaceful water of the billabong. To meet this deadline, we had a 5:30 am wake up, as we had to eat and then complete the 30 minute drive to Yellow Waters. As our only alarm was the small device on my wrist watch, both Sue and I were concerned we would sleep through it and miss our cruise. Therefore, independently, we tossed and turned for most of the night waiting for the tiny beeping sounds which would give us permission to leap from our air mattress and behave like children on Christmas morning.

When the alarm finally rang, the adults dragged themselves up, exhausted from a vigil which had lasted almost all night and one they had only failed to keep for the last two hours of deep sleep. The children were, however, like ... children ... on Christmas morning. Despite the great incompatibility of our dispositions owing to our lack of faith in ourselves, we managed to drag ourselves into the car and off to Yellow Waters.

By the time we arrived "dock side", we were all sharing the infectious excitement started by the children and we boarded the shallow-draft boats with great expectation.

To say we were not disappointed would be among the great understatements of our time ! This was the bestof all experiences.

After introductions to our guide - Nick - and a few safety rules, we slowly made our way out of the home lagoon under the watchful eye of a sea eagle. Turning, we caught the first glimpse of the sun as it rose from behind the Arnhem Land escarpment and began its daily supply of warmth and light. These first rays spread like probing fingers across the watery landscape, finding the inhabitants stirring after their twelve hours of darkness. Some, like the Tawny Frogmouth and the Night Heron, were preparing for sleep, after a night on the hustings. Most were dressing for the day and on the lookout for any early catch which might be available.

Our boat wended its way along the narrow pathway still open for traffic, as we were now in the fifth month since the passing of the wet season. Our luck was that the last wet had been a big one and there was still substantial water In the system. Along the edges of the billabongs were native bamboo and mangroves, woven into a sometimes thick tangle of foliage which would suddenly give way to reveal a shallow wetland beyond and a watery plain of picnicking Egrets, Magpie Geese, Ibis, Whistling Ducks, Brolgas and the famed Jabiru. Swimming in the relative safety of these shallow waters were Pygmy Geese, Rahjah Shellducks (orBurdikan Ducks) and the Plumed Whistling Ducks.

In the branches beside the deeper part of the billabongs we trafficked, Forest Kingfishers sat with assured authority. A close and more colourful relative, the Azure Kingfisher, kept a closer line to the trees, but occasionally popped down to the water surface to scoop a swift drink. A Shining Flycatcher was more game and
was keen to show off his flying skills among the narrow passages the branches make. Bar Chested Doves walked carefully along the bank, with a watchful eye on the still, dark water for any evil which might lurk there.

Darters could be seen drying their wings in the crazy, spread out manner which makes them look just a little silly. This drying routine is one of those strange quirks of nature. The darter lacks the natural oil in its feathers that prevents them becoming water logged and after diving to spear Its prey in the water and then consuming it with a toss of the head, it must assume this wings-spread position to dry off.

Flying above, with watchful eyes on any chance for a quick and easy feed, Whistling Kites gilded with relative ease In the early morning breeze which rushed ahead of the warming air. In all, we were able to identify 19 different species of birds in two short hours.

The return journey coincided with the early daytime activities of the "salties" and we were able to observe three fair sized beasts getting under way for the day. One chap was very cooperative In swimming up and back past our boat, but no one felt compelled to pat him in order to say thanks.

Throughout this two hours of uninterrupted nature, we were not only entertained by what was outside the boat, but were kept informed by our knowledgeable guide Nick. His vast data bank of information about the birds, plants, trees, fish etc was impressive in its breadth, but even more appreciated because of the manner of his delivery.

From this high, we felt the rest of the day might well be a letdown. However, we could not have been more wrong, as our next port of call was the Warradjan Aboriginal Cultural Centre. The five of us have spent many happy hours looking through aboriginal cultural centres across a variety of tribal areas, but I have never seen one which combined new and old In such a clever way, to tell an important story. On one hand there were original stone tools and artifacts. Nearby, a computer database - with touch sensitive screens - explained the complicated kinship system. Movement sensors activated thunder and lightning sequences as you walked through an alcove showing the legend of Narmarrgon, The Lightning Man. Video images were projected onto angled mirrors which only gave you a view when you stood in certain positions.

Despite all of this clever planning and use of innovative displays, it was the words of the people recorded on the walls, which left the indelible impression. The heart rending stories of separation from family members; the fear of the elders that It would all be lost; the sadness at the loss of their culture. It was poignant stuff.

We emerged scathed, but not chastened; saddened but uplifted. It was, a truly cultural experience. The adjoining art gallery contained some outstanding art works, ranging from decorated didjeridoos, bark and paper paintings, clothing and decorated materials. It was all of such quality and told such rich stories, that an open cheque book was never so desired by Sue and I.

From this peak, it was back to camp for lunch and the boredom of school work ... ho, hum !

Late In the afternoon, we were joined in camp by twenty members of an engineers company attached to K95. These guys had been working to repair walking tracks in Kakadu as a pay off for the use of the park. It transpired they were a combination of "home force" and "Orangelanders" and had been working on a nearby lookout track. It was estimated they had completed work which would have taken the rangers six months, in the space of the previous week.

I spoke with a couple of them during the early evening and following morning and you couldn't help but feel sorry for them in terms of the way the press in the Top End had dealt with them during the past few weeks. There had been a constant tirade against the exercise in general and the soldiers in particular. It was nothing they had done wrong while being in the Top End, just the fact they were here. It would appear many residents have short memories and don't appreciate what was done 50 years ago to defend them. Of course, they could well argue the military build up then, had caused much of their grief by making them a target for the Japanese.

You could dispute the big issues at great length, but the Individual soldier should not be the butt of the derision we had seen. Come a crisis, it would be these same troops who would be expected to answer the call and not the armchair cnttcs, who had been given the luxury of comment from the safety of their soft chairs, by the predecessors of our current soldiers.

Our other neighbours for the evening were a Swedish trio who were travelling through the Top End at a great rate of knots. When they arrived, they were about to set up in the midst of where the army had
indicated they were encamping, so I advised them to move. The two girls were happy to stay, but the bloke was not so keen. We offered them the usual sharing arrangements about our fireplace etc., but they kept fairly much to themselves.

However, about 9:00 pm, Sue and I spotted a Sugar Glider in a nearby tree and before a minute had passed, Sue was over at their camp offering my services as a night guide to the wild creatures of Kakadu ! There ensued a discussion about where they had been, what they had seen and what they thought of Australia. Needless to say, they were impressed, but on the basis of the time scale they indicated and the length of their sleep-in the next morning, it was a surprise they had seen anything! I was at my helpful best, explaining the dangers of drop bears and funnel-back spiders and yowies.

TODAY'S PHOTOS

We crashed, after a long but enjoyable day, but not before a late night visit from Mr Dingo. He wandered Into camp around half past ten and sniffed about until he found some uneaten jaffles in thefireplace. Very nervously -fear of humans and hot coals - he picked his way into the fireplace and exhumed the abandoned and burnt offerings.

It was then I remembered I hadn't warned the Swedes about our fearsome native dog, known to drag humans from their tents ...