The cutest animal of the trip

You will be pleased to know this very cute rock wallaby won the day  and cruise in the end.

Although this Babbler with his bum stuck out of his nest as he was busy lining it got my vote. The nest is a round ball of twigs and grass with a small hole in the front of it.

My proof reader is making noises about retiring so I will finish and blog and talk to you all again tomorrow evening.

A walk around an island

Now I quite understand that birds are not for everyone BUT sitting in a boat having breakfast watching a pair of sea eagles sit in the early morning sun, while jacanas and their babies run around on the lilly pads idly watched by half a dozen crocs is not your ordinary start to the day is it.

When we had to wade through the water to the island we walked around to see the yellow chats the cousins of the earlier crocs idly watched us.
I was worried about the posh English lady as she was quite plump and I figured the crocs would go for that blue blood.

The posh lady is the one in the middle with the apporopriate African Safari kakhi on.

The Commander just couldn't help himself - he had to clear the props as the guide casually put himself between the crocs and the silly old fart. Please note the posh lady offering advise. She had been a Girl Guide back in the mother land!

An early morning start

We had booked on an early morning bird cruise a month before we left as they rarely do them. The boat left at 6:00AM but it was worth getting up at 5:30AM. There were only eight of us with the guide and he was great. I casually asked the English lady near me how long she had been bird watching. She looked at me over her glasses and asked in one of those posh Queen-like accents "Do you mean in Australia?' I went for broke and said "No. All up".  "Fifty five years my dear" came the response. When she put the floppy hat on with elastic under her chin I felt a whole lot better.
Actually after this couple and the one from New Zealand realised I was a bit enthusiastic I was adopted.
Infact the NZ lady insisted I have a sheet out of her pad and a pencil to write down all the birds we saw and identified.
Weeeellll of course I was not good at minding said piece of paper as we zoomed between spots and the inevitable happened.

Suddenly the NZ lady was shouting, the boat spun around and it took me a few seconds to work out why the hell John had rushed to the front of the boat and was hanging over the side shoving his hand in croc infested waters.  I thought my note was safely tucked under my hat on the seat beside me.Mmmmmmm. My list was retrieved by my hero and henceforth minded by all on the boat. I still have it. (It listed more than twenty different birds we'd seen)

The Lake Itself

Weere not prepared for the size and majesty of the lake.

It is filled with islands and has 30,000 fresh water crocs in it.
It holds 18 times the water of Sydney Harbour.
It has a surface area of more than 1,000 square kilometers.
In one year it collects enough water to keep Perth in water for more than 10 years (not that they get any of it.)

Snail House heaven

The rest of the drive to Lake Argyle was not only smooth for our little friend to grundle along the scenery was mind bending.

Just a glimpse of Lake Argyle

A sample of the road

I am not sure this will show you the quality of the road accurately but.....

there were no toads to be seen. Just one brave snail.

A great Evening

We decided late in the afternoon to pull off the road and head into Bullito Station. The road was 50 kms of the OMG category but we were rewarded by a National Park that only had about 10 tent sites ( we were not supposed to be there yet again in vans! Love civil disobedience), a guy on one of those "lay down on" bikes headed for the Gibb River Road and a ute with a couple who slept in swags in the tray - cos of crocs.
The Homestead and cattle yards had been honestly restored with amazing history on all the internal walls and the lagoon it rested beside was glorious with lillies and birds.
We had a great fire that evening and even took the time to cook bacon and eggs on it in the morning.

The homestead. The Boab tree is so old it didn't even look like one any more.

The moon was amazing.

Now that is a Boab.

On the way to Lake Argyle

After we left Katherine we called in at a regular roadside pull off for lunch (around noon)  to discover that it was already full of toad houses set up for the night. Very scary!

This afternoon!

We wandered out to a pool with a small waterfall after lunch and paddled our feet.It was very pleasant and the water quite cold. Can you see the guy standing in the falls?

Tomorrow we head west and will probably be off the air for a few days.

Thank God I have caught up!

Today was an easy start. Late breakfast sitting outside in the shade. A quick trip to the shops for our third electric jug. This time we went for metal and a little more money in the hope it will cope with the "outback shakes" and bull dust.
We are doing all of our cooking outdoors now as it gets too hot in the van. Unfortunately our outdoor gas cooker has developed this nasty habit of shooting flames out the handle when you least expect it. We bought a new fitting for where it joins "something to something" so hopefully there will be no more fireworks.
We then drove out before lunch to Springvale Homestead to see the oldest homestead in the top end. It was built about the same time as Deloraine.

There was great excitement when we arrived at the reception as a salt water croc had not long taken a goose from the bank of the lagoon in the middle of the campground. Many Stations now run accomodation of all kinds to support the financial viability of the traditional station economy.

This goose didn't seem to be showing any great remorse at losing his brother or sister.

There were tents all along this edge of the water and everyone was waiting for the rangers to arrive.

Our Gorge guide told us that the way you can tell the difference between a salty and a freshwater croc is the fresh water will generally swim away from you and the salty will swim towards you saying "trust me". This one would be trapped and removed back to the ocean.

Katherine Gorge

Yesterday we did the Gorge boat ride. Again it had changed. I guess with all the "older folks" travelling they have felt obliged to put in concrete paths and board-walks in all the places we scrambled over rocks last time. You actually have to leave the boat and walk between the three gorges and climb into another boat in each. In the last flood the river was actually almost at the top of this part of the Gorge. It would have been one hell of a ride as the water fairly roars through apparently (35 knots according to the guide).

Gorge 2

Gorge 1

                                                          Walking between Gorges.

                                                            All too easy really.

Katherine

The trip from Daly Waters to Katherine was often through smoke haze. It seemed half of the country was on fire.
The eagles, crows and kites loved it as it flushed out little critters for them to pounce on for lunch.

As we drove into Katherine we were taken aback by the changes. There are certainly more shops in the main street but there were very few white people moving about. It would seem the indigenous population has grown considerably since our last visit.
We are camped on Manbulloo Station about 9 kms out of town. It is on the river and we are under massive old tropical trees. It was 31 degrees yesterday and today and quite humid so we are glad to come and go from deep shade.

This and That

This old timer was at the Daly Waters Roadhouse when we pulled in. I love the outback but not this much.  At least it is airconditioned I suppose!!

OMG

We hit the Stuart Highway at Daly Waters and reality hit us. Remember the Cane Toads? Well an invasion had obviously begun while we were in the never never. We drove into Daly Waters to discover them by the hundred. Mobile toad houses everywhere. At first we thought it was a convention but apparently the Daly Waters pub is a must visit on all mobile toads schedule. All that is there is the pub, a sort of service station some jewellery stall and a few houses. But it has a giant camp ground which was fast filling. Figure that!

Sign seen in Daly Waters No 6

300,000 kms Camp

John insisted it has to be noted that the Big Red Car clicked over 300,000ks just before we pulled off this day so this camp has become known as the 300,000K Camp. I wonder who he has to contact to have it put officially on the map. Sad really but he loves that car. Thanks again Drew and Karen.

Bits and Pieces

Sorry about the bird photos but as the little snail house grundles along the road the camera just insists on taking shots.

This flock of Brolgas had at least a hundred in it.

This Jabaru was very shy.

Road kill is the outback bird mackers.

And these gentle giants just grundled on by.

However there was nothing shy about this character.

Or this little Rainbow Bee Eater who joined us for lunch.

On the Road Again

After leaving King Ash Bay we headed back to Cape Crawford. On the way we pulled into Caranbirini Conservation Reserve and were amazed to discover a beautiful lagoon filled with water lillies and birds.

We also walked into some sandstone formations that the area is famous for.

There are hundreds of these columns and we were able to follow a path into the centre of them.  The most famous cluster is called the Lost City but it is on private land and you can only access it by flying over at $200 per person by helicopter. John thought walking into this formation for nothing was a steal (thanks for the tip Alison)! You did get a real sense of the grandure and atmosphere I must admit. I know how ants feel now.
The gum trees that grow on the side of the columns that send a tap root down meters to dig into the sand are amazing.

King Ash Bay Fishing Club

The Fishing Club was quite amazing. It covered about 100 acres and there were literally hundreds of camps set up along the riverfront. As we were sitting by the fire eating dinner Arthur arrived with his chair and simply sat down. He was from one of the big tin sheds that he had been alloted in a ballot after coming there every year for three months for fifteen years. Beside the shed was a massive motorhome. Arthur was from Narooma. There were sections fenced off for the Alice Springs Anglers Club and the Tennent Creek Fishing Club. Folks out here don't mind a drive to go fishing!
One of the rules was that your vege garden had to be 6 metres back from the edge of the river and preferably in containers. There was ABSOLUTELY nothing to do but fish and crab. The clubhouse bar opened at 5pm.

When we mentioned to the residents that we didn't fish but were interested in birds their eyes glazed over.

Evenings are a favourite time when Deb and I cook and chat with a wee drop. We have perfected our timing so we all sit down together around the fire to eat.

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Turning right

At Cape Vincent, which is around 200 ks inland, we turned left and headed east out to Borroloola. Sounds romantic but I agree Alison - it is up there with Wilcannia in my top ten forgettable towns. I did not take photos out of respect for the fact it is a community.
Instead of stopping we headed out to the King Ash Fishing Club on the mouth of the McArthur River.

But that is a story for tomorrow night. My proof reader is asleep so please excuse my invented spelling. He will be back on the job in the morning.

Oops!

Next morning John went out to check out the sunrise to discover he had his new portable solar panel, designed to keep the deep freeze in the Big Red Car cold, facing the wrong way. The outback is like that!

We headed north to Cape Crawford which was an oasis in the middle of nowhere with green grass, lush trees (nomads but not too many - I actually now think they are more of a concern than the cane toads really) and great loos. Sorry but there were birds too who definitely knew how to work the crowd - me included.

I forgot to tell you we also ran into this gentleman heading south not long after we left Brunette Downs Station. He was a man of few words. When we pulled over to let him pass Ian thought he would be neighbourly and suggest he might need to watch the speed limit. From behind the fly net we heard "I don't give a stuff" and he and the camels didn't miss a beat or even look at us.

He was actually steering the car with one hand as he walked along but as he neared us he jumped in - not sure if it was to check the brakes or just incase we ran over him.
I wanted to jump out and walk along with him for a while to hear his story and who wouldn't love to climb in that jeep for a ride. But even though he really caught your attention it was clear his privacy was to be respected and John was just recovering from me adopting the tarp man in Muttaburra.

Cafe Snailhouse coffee shop

This is John showing off how he can still make me my morning coffee even when we are not on power. Love that man!

My ground beans are cooked on the gas stove in this beautiful Italian espresso maker so I wake up to the smell of my beans from home.

My milk is frothed in my Christmas present from Glenn via an inverter attached to a battery under the seat fed by the solar panel on the roof of the van. No I am not spoiled!!

Out of Isa

We headed east for Barkly Homestead Roadhouse anxious to turn north up through Burnette Downs. We lost most of the traffic and spent a great night off the road with a fire and outdoor cooking.

Deb was showing off her new battery operated light over her cooking table.

Catch up

Signs I have Seen No 4

The lost tribe

No we are not lost in the wilds. I should have blogged in Mt Isa but Deb and Ian caught up with us and we got busy with repairs, shopping, washing, eating annd talking.
We stayed overnight in Julia Creek on the way to Isa and were lucky to get a site among the swarms of nomads on the move. The entertainment for the evening was the manager of the park trying to move on a swarm of screaming Galahs that descended just on evening. Guess who won?
The drive to Isa was a culture shock as we only saw nomads occasionally interspersed by  roadtrains.

The town itself is totally dominated by the mine and noise is part of the 24 hour clock. Not my choice of places I would want to live. The mine is at the end of the Main Street.

Signs I have seen No 3

Seems Queenslanders have adopted toilet frogs! Makes you feel sorry for the poor old Cane Toad!