Outback Adventure
I came from the United Kingdom to a farming area in the South of Western Australia which is where I did my schooling. In my final two years of high school, I had the chance to see the North West with my school buddy’s family. They were experienced bushies, 100% Aussie. They carried an old plastic rubbish bin which I learnt later was to be our washing machine. Put clothes and soapy water in the bin, secure the lid, then secure the bin in the trailer or van. After long miles over dusty dirt road the washing is agitated like it would be in a commercial washing machine. At your overnight camp spot, you rinse and hang the washing. It’s so hot there it dries overnight. Simple.
We headed off with 4WD and caravan towards the Wittenoom Gorge. WOW, that’s some canyon. Rugged but beautiful. We travelled around Fortescue River, Broome, Karratha and numerous other mining towns. All I can say about that area is, red dust, red dirt and hot. The rugged ground could be said to have an element of beauty and I suppose if my aunt, the artist, were to visit she would have been painting it like crazy. However, I was not overly impressed. I did like the hands of bananas growing around Broome and the fabulous beaches.
Another thing unique to the North is the Road Train. I saw plenty of trucks with two and occasionally three trailers, but some of those N.T. trucks are 55 meters long !!!!!!! It’s a bit concerning when you are on the road and a hand pops out of the driver’s window and waves you around, the roads are very straight but narrow. Of course, with a 55mtr road train, that just isn’t going to happen.
Around Kakadu, where the scenery improved no end, we saw Jim Jim Falls, Barramundi Gorge, Jarranbarnmi and Mamukala Wetlands.
At one point we camped under a shady tree alongside a dry creek bed. I was told at this time of year its normal for creeks to dry up. There were three families camping right in the creek bed out of the wind. My guides called out to them and advised them to move up out of the creek. They just laughed and waved. I didn’t understand why we stayed at the top copping the dust storms and wind. I got my answer just before dawn broke. I was awoken by a loud rumbling noise; I assumed it was a thunder storm and wished we were down in that protected area. Then the noise got louder, I could hear crashing, banging and screams. Within minutes the dry creek bed was flooded and the caravans washed away, smashed against the rock walls. Fortunately, the tourists from the creek bed campsites survived with only minor injuries. We were able to pull them up to safety, but they had learnt a hard lesson as they had lost everything except the clothes they stood up in. Now they, and I, understood. Apparently, it’s a phenomenon experienced in that location, after tropical storms and rain further up north a wall of water comes down filling creeks instantly. A lucky escape indeed.
Heather Hartland
August 2022