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Peril in Paradise
In the early morning light
and assisted by a rising tide, I paddled around Cape Wellington
one of the most remote capes in Australia. I was in the Kimberley
and headed into the Prince Regent River, one of the most unique
and spectacular wilderness areas which was rarely visited
by boat and never ever by kayak.
The low tide had exposed the reef and
coral and it had been a difficult, slippery and a dangerous
job just getting the kayak into the water. I was happy just
knowing that I had lugged all my heavy gear across a reef
that could have easily have carved me up if I had fallen.
As I paddled in the calm waters only 20 metres from the rocky
cape suddenly something smashed into the back of my kayak
like a raging bull. I gained my balance and composure and
in horror I glanced behind expecting to see the 'Incredible
Hulk', or the sea equivalent. I could see nothing but rings
of disturbed water but I just knew it had to be either a big
shark or a crocodile. Were they looking for breakfast?
I paddled away from the cape left wondering
what the hell it was. Being only inches above the water and
no-where to escape to, I really wasn't at a good place. With
no follow up attack I started riding a swift current towards
the narrows near Uwins Island, when I noticed a strange phenomenon
occurring to my right. I could see a body of water (the tail-end
of the outgoing tide) speeding closer and travelling in the
opposite direction to the current that I was riding on. It
was so strange (although I had seen it happen in the King
Sound) to be riding on an ingoing current and seeing an outgoing
current pass by only metres away.
Like a speeding bullet I passed the
islands at the entrance of St George Basin, conquered the
tidal disturbances in the narrows and headed across the mangrove
lined Basin with the famous Mt Waterloo and Mt Trafalgar in
the distance. In this area I was more concerned about crocodiles
than sharks. A crocodile survey done in 1978 spotted 189 crocodiles
of various sizes in the Prince Regent River, so I knew they
were waiting out there somewhere! (It was also near here,
but in 1987, a later date, that an American tourist Ginger
Meadows was taken and killed by a crocodile. I was nearby
at the time.)
Mt Trafalgar
After kayaking 63 kilometres from Cape
Wellington I turned out of the mangrove, cliff lined Prince
Regent River to paddle 6.7 kilometres along Camp Creek to
find a camping spot at the end. Mangroves lined the junction
of the two waterways, with a huge body of lush mangroves,
a perfect crocodile habitat, in two wide gullies either side
of the creek further ahead. It was perfect crocodile ambush
area. I scanned the water for any movement and noticed a log
near the mangroves on the left shore, but it moved, it was
no log, it was a croc. Trapped inside the narrow creek with
two mangrove forests either side of me there was no quick
escape. I instantly took a wide berth, moving to my right
but the croc swam closer and closer. My heart started to pound
like an African drum as I was forced nearer to the thick mangroves
lining the right bank. The croc stopped for a split moment,
I sighed with relief but it gave chase again. It's hard to
describe the feeling of being pursued by a very unpredictable
animal. I daren't slacken off my pace as a split second might
mean life or death.
My body was fixed on paddling hard
to get away, but my mind knew that the croc was faster and
was it coming to attack, although I was hoping it was just
being inquisitive! It wasn't worth stopping to take a photograph
to find out. It was just too dangerous.
I knew that I was intruding into crocodile
territory, so really I had to expect that I could be attacked
and to never see home again. But it was a gamble worth taking,
I was kayaking in one of the most beautiful places on earth
and I knew of no other kayaker who has been here before me.
Like an early explorer I thrived in being here in such a hostile
environment where danger was part of the challenge and created
so much excitement.
My ticker now raced much quicker than
Big Ben. I was clipping the mangroves and paddling in a wide
arch, trying to avoid those ugly looking nostrils bearing
down on me. That nose, which had a slight resemblance to my
own, finally started to slow. I began to feel a lot happier,
but I couldn't ease up, it might change its mind. The thought
of having to return this way in two days time wasn't a pleasant
one.
Although this croc had stopped the
chase I still faced several kilometres of thick mangroves
ahead where there could be more waiting but I reached the
end of the creek without incident. Here I could see nothing,
but mud, mangroves and slimy rocks but just when I felt there
was no hope and I may have to turn and go back, I noticed
a narrow passage between some cliffs that led me into a pool
and paradise. Before me were lush trees, beautiful fresh water
streams, polished rock ledges, a cliff face and a waterfall
a few hundred metres up stream. What more could a man ask
for. Within minutes the tide had turned and the water allowing
me to paddle into the pool was gone. Beyond my pool now, was
just mud.
The scene of my camp
on Camp Creek. Although crocodiles could easily get to me
I felt safe being there.
In 6.5 hours I had paddled 70 kilometres.
That was my best achievement yet. Needing a rest and the enthusiasm
to face the croc and the hostile world out there again I settled
in for a 2 day break. People had camped here before as there
were chairs made from the local timber.
It was great to have
freshwater to drink and wash. For the next ten days I wouldn't
find any water so it had to be rationed.
Excited of being in such a beautiful
place I just wanted to explore the country by foot as it felt
much safer. I soon started my trek and a few hundred metres
away I climbed around two waterfalls and followed the creek
further into the interior. The creek was teeming with birds,
lizards and wallabies but it was the scrub bulls, which were
in a prime condition that I had to avoid. Being miles away
from the nearest cattle station I expect the bulls hadn't
seen a human being as they stood their ground. For a moment
I felt like a matador. I wasn't scared of bulls as I had been
brought up on a farm, but these heavy beasts weren't your
typical bull, they were frightened of nothing and were happy
to give chase.
The Twin Falls just
upstream from my camp
After several hours of walking I returned
to wash, write and to relax. I had been paddling solo around
the Kimberley for about 85 days and as my mind wandered, and
the longer I relaxed and thought about home, I suddenly began
to feel homesick. Up until now my trip had been action packed
and I'd had no time to get homesick, the excitement saw to
that. But now, as I washed and shampooed my hair with the
sacred fresh water, sewed my deteriorating clothes and cleaned
my equipment I had time to think about home and how Jenny
was coping without me. Out here I had no way of communicating
and letting her know where I was and if I was safe.
Checking all my gear
for the next leg of my journey
After a two day break I was ready to
face the dangerous world out there again so at 2pm when the
tide eventually reached my campsite I paddled out of my safe
heaven, through the cliffs and along the corridor of mangroves.
Within 200 metres I spotted a 6 foot croc sunning itself on
a rock ledge. It was oblivious of my presence so I quietly
paddled by it pushing hard against the wind and incoming tide
heading back towards the Prince Regent River. Twigs and logs
floated by. Most reminded me of a crocodile so I strained
as I looked for those bony eyes and nostrils in the murky
water.
Next week the story back to Cape Wellington
continues......
Camp Creek when the
tide was out. The crocodile on the way out was sitting on
the ledge.
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Mount Trafalgar
Mount Trafalgar, situated in the Prince
Regent Nature Reserve, is one of Australia's most remote places,
with the only access by air or boat. There are no roads into
the area and a permit is required from Conservation and Land
Management for those wishing to enter the area. The top of
the massive bluff can only be reached by boat or helicopter
or experienced climbers like Tim Macartney-Snape and Roland
Tyson from Sea to Summit who have climbed it.
The Prince Regent River, in the far
north-west Kimberley, remains today as one of Australia's
most remote wilderness areas. No roads penetrate its rugged
sandstone ranges, and a tide-race with formidable whirlpools
restricts access from seaward. Upstream from the veritable
inland sea of St. George Basin, the Prince Regent River runs
straight as an arrow into the heart of the Kimberley Plateau,
following an ancient fault line. The Prince Regent Nature
Reserve, created in 1964, covers some 633,825 hectares, protecting
almost the entire river catchment. The Reserve was nominated
a UNESCO World Biosphere Reserve in 1978, in recognition of
its outstanding intact wildlife and pristine values.
The first Europeans known to gaze on
this scene were the botanist, Allan Cunningham, and ship's
surgeon, James Hunter, in September 1820 on the survey vessel
HMC Mermaid, under the command of Lieutenant Phillip Parker
King. While the ship was undergoing emergency hull repairs
at Careening Bay, the pair had climbed a prominent hill, which
they named Mount Knight. From this peak, their eyes were drawn
to a glimmering inland tidal basin, as well as a skyline dominated
by a spectacular tilted mesa ( an elevated area of land with
a flat top and sides that are usually steep).
In the oral traditions of the Wororra, the local Aboriginal
people, this mighty mesa, Ngayangkarnanya, had been carried
in the Dreamtime from the north by a vast shoal of fish, sharks
and crabs. The colossal weight of the load not only exhausted
them, it squashed many flat - creating in the process both
rays and shovel-nosed sharks!
Unaware of these ancient legends, Phillip Parker King and
the crew of HMC Mermaid ventured in to explore the basins
and navigable lower river, bestowing British names with patriotic
zeal. The Prince Regent River was named for the Hanoverian
prince, shortly to succeed his incapacitated father, George
III, and reign in his own right as King George IV. The 391-metre
mesa was named Mount Trafalgar by King, in honour of Nelson's
great naval victory of 1805. An adjacent lesser peak was named
Mount Waterloo, after the Belgian village that witnessed the
decisive defeat of Napoleon by the Duke of Wellington's army.
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Hello Terry
Once again I have enjoyed the newsletter.
Of special interest this time, were your details of the journey
retracing the journey of Bertram and Klausman. I have been
fortunate to traverse that area on two occasions. The first
time was when we travelled over land by 4WD in 1994 from Kalumburu
to what is now known as Faraway Bay - its looks very much
like one of your photos where you were crouched up on top
of a rock, with the bay behind. Faraway Bay now has a small
fly in resort. Our trip required map and compass navigation.
From the bay, we then navigated overland to about a km from
King George Falls and hiked our way into the falls -not much
water flowing as it was the dry season.
In 2007 I was lucky enough to take a trip in a small cruise
boat 'Utopia' which took me from Derby to Wyndham, camping
ashore each night. Again I saw the falls (and also the Berkley
R Falls), this time with water flowing and went on to some
of the other landmarks such as Cape Bernier, Cape Whiskey,
and I believe Emergency Bay. It is beautiful country and my
opportunities were superb. I have also been to Forrest River
(Oombalgurri) and explored some of that area.
Thanks for the memories.
Regards
Barry Jones
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