Crocs, rocks, barra and art
This has been Kakadu for us – crocs, rocks, barra and rock paintings. With the addition of wetlands, birds and basket weaving – but that made the title a little long!
It was very exciting to get to Kakadu for both of us and like any place that takes on near mythical proportions in your mind, it took us a little time to adjust the reality to the myth. Coming to understand that the vast majority of Kakadu in the dry season is DRY open woodland in various stages of being burnt was probably the major thing. But spending a week there meant we could ease right into it and come to appreciate the reality of Kakadu. And we loved it.
We started in the south at Gunlom, a big ‘plunge pool’ (in the vernacular) at the base of a waterfall coming down the Arnhem escarpment. Any crocodiles had been removed from the waterways so that you could swim in the cold and deep, green water. (Although they don’t guarantee anything and one of the Aboriginal rangers said she’d never swim there where she couldn’t see the bottom).
We then stopped at Mardugal Billabong, and explored that lush billabong in our tinnie, and spotted our first large saltwater crocodile in the water on the opposite bank. This solo croc, however, paled into insignificance when we put the tinnie into the big Yellow Water billabong the following day.
In amongst the water lilies and pandanus and floating grasses of this incredibly beautiful wetland was A LOT of crocodiles – we think we counted at least ten and one was enormous. At this point our tinnie felt more like ‘tiny’ and Nic spent most of the time with her heart beating slightly faster than normal. But they were all sunbaking and taking no notice of us whatsoever, and we were leaving them well alone, unlike the constant stream of tour boats that were getting in real close so all the tourists could take close up photos. There seemed to be lots of fish in there, and Tim caught his first (undersized) barra.
We came back to Yellow Water later, for a sunset and again for a dawn, and watched the incredible number of birds, and wild horses and the fish sploshing around. This was the Kakadu of our imagination.
We also spent a bit of time exploring the famous rock art sites at Nourlangie and Ubirr, and saw some incredible paintings. A lot of paintings were of barramundi, and it made us laugh to think that the obsession with barramundi started thousands of years ago, and that these paintings are the ancient equivalent to the fishing pages of today with blokes proudly holding up their catches. (The predominance of barramundi paintings is probably better explained by being part of the selection of non-sacred paintings that is OK to show us whitefellas, and they possibly have more of a spiritual dimension anyway, but we like the thought of an ancient fishing magazine!)
And it was in Kakadu that Tim caught his first legal barra! We were camped at Ubirr, near the East Alligator River (which is the border with Arnhem Land) and close to an old fella (and his son and grandson) who knew the river intimately. They took Tim out fishing in their dinghy and within a few well placed casts at a ‘secret spot’ he had caught a decent barramundi! Given the number of active looking crocodiles that Tim saw on this little fishing excursion it is probably a good thing Nic wasn’t there, especially armed with her knowledge (thanks to the Croc Attack book that seems to be in most NT newsagents!) that at least one fatal and one near fatal attack has happened on this particular river. Which probably accounts for the extra strong warning at the river crossing.
Nic, meanwhile, was doing something safer and more appropriately feminine - basket weaving with dyed pandanus fibres with some Traditional Owners and a bunch of other visitors. In the peak tourist time, Kakadu has a great range of free talks, slideshows and art and craft demonstrations/ activities, mostly by the Traditional Owners, and we made the most of the opportunities.
We also drove across/through the East Alligator River briefly into Arnhem Land to the Gunbalanya community and the Injalak Art Centre. We couldn’t get the permits to go any further into Arnhem Land because it is booked out in advance for the school holidays, but it was great to get a taste of it. It was so beautiful, we desperately wanted to keep going through this beautiful escarpment country bordering the verdant and teeming floodplains – would anybody really notice if we were sidetracked for a few hours?
It was very exciting to get to Kakadu for both of us and like any place that takes on near mythical proportions in your mind, it took us a little time to adjust the reality to the myth. Coming to understand that the vast majority of Kakadu in the dry season is DRY open woodland in various stages of being burnt was probably the major thing. But spending a week there meant we could ease right into it and come to appreciate the reality of Kakadu. And we loved it.
We started in the south at Gunlom, a big ‘plunge pool’ (in the vernacular) at the base of a waterfall coming down the Arnhem escarpment. Any crocodiles had been removed from the waterways so that you could swim in the cold and deep, green water. (Although they don’t guarantee anything and one of the Aboriginal rangers said she’d never swim there where she couldn’t see the bottom).
We then stopped at Mardugal Billabong, and explored that lush billabong in our tinnie, and spotted our first large saltwater crocodile in the water on the opposite bank. This solo croc, however, paled into insignificance when we put the tinnie into the big Yellow Water billabong the following day.
In amongst the water lilies and pandanus and floating grasses of this incredibly beautiful wetland was A LOT of crocodiles – we think we counted at least ten and one was enormous. At this point our tinnie felt more like ‘tiny’ and Nic spent most of the time with her heart beating slightly faster than normal. But they were all sunbaking and taking no notice of us whatsoever, and we were leaving them well alone, unlike the constant stream of tour boats that were getting in real close so all the tourists could take close up photos. There seemed to be lots of fish in there, and Tim caught his first (undersized) barra.
We came back to Yellow Water later, for a sunset and again for a dawn, and watched the incredible number of birds, and wild horses and the fish sploshing around. This was the Kakadu of our imagination.
We also spent a bit of time exploring the famous rock art sites at Nourlangie and Ubirr, and saw some incredible paintings. A lot of paintings were of barramundi, and it made us laugh to think that the obsession with barramundi started thousands of years ago, and that these paintings are the ancient equivalent to the fishing pages of today with blokes proudly holding up their catches. (The predominance of barramundi paintings is probably better explained by being part of the selection of non-sacred paintings that is OK to show us whitefellas, and they possibly have more of a spiritual dimension anyway, but we like the thought of an ancient fishing magazine!)
And it was in Kakadu that Tim caught his first legal barra! We were camped at Ubirr, near the East Alligator River (which is the border with Arnhem Land) and close to an old fella (and his son and grandson) who knew the river intimately. They took Tim out fishing in their dinghy and within a few well placed casts at a ‘secret spot’ he had caught a decent barramundi! Given the number of active looking crocodiles that Tim saw on this little fishing excursion it is probably a good thing Nic wasn’t there, especially armed with her knowledge (thanks to the Croc Attack book that seems to be in most NT newsagents!) that at least one fatal and one near fatal attack has happened on this particular river. Which probably accounts for the extra strong warning at the river crossing.
Nic, meanwhile, was doing something safer and more appropriately feminine - basket weaving with dyed pandanus fibres with some Traditional Owners and a bunch of other visitors. In the peak tourist time, Kakadu has a great range of free talks, slideshows and art and craft demonstrations/ activities, mostly by the Traditional Owners, and we made the most of the opportunities.
We also drove across/through the East Alligator River briefly into Arnhem Land to the Gunbalanya community and the Injalak Art Centre. We couldn’t get the permits to go any further into Arnhem Land because it is booked out in advance for the school holidays, but it was great to get a taste of it. It was so beautiful, we desperately wanted to keep going through this beautiful escarpment country bordering the verdant and teeming floodplains – would anybody really notice if we were sidetracked for a few hours?
posted by Tim and Nic at
10:57 am
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