Thankfully we didn’t have too far to go after the Broome restock, yet we still managed to arrive at camp at night (are you surprised?!). Before hitting the Gibb River Road, we made a detour left and headed for the mouth of the Fitzroy River. We’d read on Wiki there were great riverside camps, however not having daylight to suss out the area made it a little challenging to determine the lay of the land. Alex went to do a recce down one track which was a no go, the next track looked viable so over the radio he gave the OK. It was only after he’d guided me halfway down the gnarled track, he changed his mind and asked me to reverse, err, I don’t think so! We were committed. We found a small flat piece of land and set up for a quick dinner.
In the pitch black we then ventured towards the river, cautiously following the beam of our torchlight, uncertain footing on uneven ground, even more uncertain about what we’d find down the water. The closer we got, the unknown became more foreboding and the kids more jumpy, in turn making me more apprehensive. We were now in croc territory and the darkness amplified the silence as we crept closer, wondering if any were in wait. There were none on the shore (although we didn’t get that close) but as you cast your eyes over the surface of the water we spotted their beady red eyes reflecting from the torch’s glow. Enough was enough and the kids quickly backtracked to the safety of camp.
The following day we laughed when I got the drone up to see we managed to find ourselves on a bit of an island, rutted washouts encircling us as we’d managed to drive ourselves down the worst road to the river side! That’s what happens when you drive at night…. After a bit of manual roadwork, we levelled a deep hole and managed to drive further down the river to find another camp. Our intention had been to only stay a night but after finding a great spot next to the water, it was so peaceful (and Alex was desperate to bag a Barra) we extended by a couple more.
We diligently did some school work, first time in a week so eased in gently with just a couple of pages and started on the croc watch. The place seemed far less scary by day. We counted 7 crocs on the bank, all freshies (the nice ones) warming themselves in the sun. Alex fished, the kids swung in the hammock and I read & tried to write blogs and sort photos to catch up. It was a great couple of days chillin’.
When it was time to leave, we had a final check of the bank and spotted a croc looking a little different than the others, time to get the drone back out to identify. It initially didn’t like the noise and slipped into the water but was soon back up on the bank and as we got closer, we knew it was a saltie (the nasty ones), wider stumpy nose and all over just bigger. Certainly reminded us not to jump in the waters in these parts!
After more playing, we did our normal ‘late leave’, we didn’t really want to go and hauled ourselves into Derby for a minor restock. The ‘minor’ became ‘major’, always the case when the fam comes along to “help”; crisps, chocolate, super dupers, more crisps, biscuits, all those essentials thrown into the trolley like we were planning for an impending Armageddon! As well as croc territory, we were now in Boab tree land, ones of my favourite trees to look at. The ‘upside down tree’, like a giant has plucked the tree from the ground, turned it 180 degrees and shoved it back in the ground again with the roots sticking out at all angles. There was a rest stop just out of town next to a huge Boab and so we settled ourselves there for the night.
Knowing we were going to be out of good reception for the next 4-6weeks, I was furiously trying to upload a few blogs and schedule them for the coming weeks so we’d be more up to date. These things always take longer than expected and so I settled myself into the coolness of a café with an iced coffee while Alex filled up with fuel and water. Derby is one of the first towns we’ve been to where there is a larger indigenous population, the kids were a little overwhelmed at some of their antics and a lot of staring ensued as we passed open parks where they hung out. It was quite an eye-opener for them.
It was finally time for us to hit the Gibb, bursting at the seams with everything we could possibly need, and probably a lot of what we didn’t, obligatory photo posted to our social media posse to prove we were on one of Australia’s most iconic roads, it was foot to the pedal leaving red dust billowing behind us. We’d planned a close camp and before long we pulled off the dirt road onto a long dirt track and parked ourselves up at Poulton’s Pool for the night. This was a magical camp, right next to the waters edge, all to ourselves… all to ourselves… we had dinner by a fire, counted 8 crocs (assumed freshies) lounging in the water and went to bed happy and contended, finally on the Gibb River Road.
Alex rose early, eager to try his hand for the Barra again (no luck at Fitzroy Crossing) and I started on some bread. We’d decided to stay another night it was such a cracking spot and by early morning we were under the shade of a tree trying to crack on with the never-ending schoolwork. We were rudely awoken out of our education reverie by the sound of an engine. Inwardly both Alex and I thought ‘ugh, can’t we just have this place to ourselves’, OK maybe it wasn’t inwardly or that good-natured, yet we politely smiled and waved as the family drove by. We obviously looked like nice people as they stopped by the billabong and came over for a chat.
A friendly family, Ben and Kate (KC) with their two boys Max (12) and Rupert (10) were easy to chat to and at some point in the conversation the inevitable question of “where are you from?” arose. Always starting with the Capital city, they were from Sydney, us too. Where about in Sydney? Lower North Shore, oh, us too, where about in the Lower North Shore? Wait for it….. Cremorne. No way!! Our houses are a 5-minute drive from each other. All the kids by this point were up a tree, school work long forgotten while we shared stories about our travels so far. This was the start of a blossoming friendship, which turned into an overnight stay, then 2 weeks on the road together. Lifelong friends made over a chance stop.
It was like we’d met up with old friends, we fitted like a glove, sharing food round the fire, everyone pitching in, lots of banter and just knowing what to do like we’d been camping many times before. The rest of the trip just evolved, there was no conscious decision to travel together, it just happened. And boy did we have fun!
Our first stop was Tunnel Creek, the name kind of gives it away and it was a nice respite from the rising heat. There was a croc at the cathedral size entrance to welcomed us, then the space began to taper as we went deeper, wading through water in search of a secret hideaway cave further down that we’d read about on Wiki. We found the little hole to squeeze through which opened into a secluded chamber, twinkling as we shone our torches over the rocks. Magic. We continued to the end in search of some rock art and an explore before Rupe’s journey nearly ended very differently as he missed standing on a croc’s snout by 2 inches – the light was so dim he just didn’t see it!
We quickly settled into a routine of travel day / activity day, of which the travel days were intense. I think we were lucky if we managed to 50kms a day! The Perry’s had originally planned to take about 9 days to cross the Gibb, then they bumped into the Towns’, turning their timetable on its head. Now, the hand brake was put on our trip a long time ago, yet this was a new pace for the Perry’s, of which they embraced with style and ease. Quickly into the journey we learnt to ignore all the reviews on wiki regarding the state of the road. We’d heard many horror stories of breakdowns and cars falling apart on these ruinous corrugations, yet we found the road to be pretty good, a bit bumpy in places as you’d expect on a dirt road, otherwise unremarkable.
Our next activity was Wndjana Gorge, an early start was needed to avoid the blistering days sun, easy for the Perry’s, not so easy for the Towns’. ‘Early start’ does not compute in my family’s heads. This place was pretty spectacular; a wide, long river bed, lined with green trees all nestled in the limestone gorge, where you can explore the fossilised marine life forms in the cliffs left from the inhabitants of this country many, many moons ago. In the wet, it must look incredible, but after 3 years of less than ideal rain, there was only a small pocket of water left in the river bed. What made it extra special this time was that this pocket of water was home to crocs. LOTS of them. When we did the Gibb 13 years ago, we saw none here, this time, we sat in one place and counted over 100. Quite an astonishing sight. All still, all patiently waiting for the wet. We returned in the evening for sunset hoping for a glimpse of the fruit bats swooping, teasing the crocs as they lay in wait for potential dinner, but the action was as quick and exciting as racing snails.
Whenever we could, we’d find a camp with a water hole, a great respite as the temps were creeping higher. Mount Hart offered just this, off the main track and nearly empty as we were at the end of the season, we even had a little grass which felt like a carpet under our feet after the dust and rocks we were used to. A cool down in the swimming hole after setting up camp, we then lounged until it was time for pizza. It was an extra special pizza – a Father’s Day pizza – perfectly timed camp! As they were closing for the season, they were very generous on their wine portions, great at the time, less so the following morning.
We spent a couple of days exploring the area and increasing the relaxation time, cards was the flavour of the day and I was reminded how to play S(hit) Head and introduced to Skip Jack Naked. We scrambled up Dolorite Gorge, took in the sunset with 360deg views of Mount Hart and were treated to a safari style drive to Barkers pool and the strangled fig by Rudi our camp host.
One morning I made bread for brekkie and as we were chatting around the table, we noticed among all the condiments there were 3 similar coloured jars on the table; Vegemite (Ben’s), Marmite (Alex’s) and OzEmite (KCs). Soon I was busy making up a blinded sample board on the left-over sourdough so we could play a game of Top Trumps. Now, I can’t stand Marmite and put all similar brands in the same basket, so I was happy to be adjudicator, taking the scores on appearance, smell and taste. It was hilarious looking at their faces as they chewed on the salty (or not) black stuff. It was a close battle, tensions were high as the results were being read. It was a surprise result, the outsider wiggled its way up the scoreboard – OzEmite took on the big guns and won! Ben was more than a little outraged on the appropriateness of the scoring when a 0 and 11 were thrown in from his opponents as the scoring was 1-10!
At some point on the journey, passengers were swapped, we inherited Max as Lexi slipped into share the ride with the Perry’s. Occasionally we got Rupe but it was mainly Lexi & Rupe that wanted to ride together, so poor Maxi was ousted. Whilst travelling in convey, the radio’s were always on so banter could continue both between the adults and kids.
Bell Gorge was next off the track, a stunning gorge and one of my fave’s I think. We lounged like seals by the waters edge, slipping in and out of the crystal-clear water to cool down when required. As with all the gorges, there was no longer any waterfalls running but the pools were fairly full and you could swim down them, scrabble over rocks, slip into the next one and at the end you were perched precariously at the top of a cliff, which would make the most spectacular waterfall in the wet season.
It was around this time that we upped the ante on the games and introduced Ben and KC to Carcassonne. This is a game that Alex and I played on our last trip, A LOT. It’s a strategic board game involving hunters, fishermen and foresters. It took a few games to introduce the rules and get the hang of it, then they became very intense, silence all around, spattered only with a few “a quick game’s a good game” if pieces took too long to place, as we tried to beat our opponents in battle. It was fun to revive the game after it had been a passenger for the last 8 months. I’d forgotten how much I enjoyed it. Ben really got into it. This game unleashes the inner assailant, using stealth and smarts to conquer your opponents. Alex is very good at the game, I think he won a few, Ben was close on his tail and we let him win a couple, of course I was reigning champion by the time we parted ways. KC was still struggling to understand why you couldn’t place a forest on a river, her excuse being she couldn’t see in 3D!
The next few days took us through Adhoc gorge, where if you continued pass the first stagnant pool of water you were rewarded with a second larger pool for instant gratification, Galvin Gorge, where Max entertained a bus load of tourists by jumping off the rope swing shouting out dedications to them and finally on to Manning Gorge for a full day’s activity. We’d been used to camps pretty much all to ourselves, the benefits of travelling the Gibb out of season, so I was a little surprised when we saw at least half a dozen other vehicles parked up. We arrived at camp early – I know, the Perry’s were teaching us a thing or two! – and as the day’s average temp was rising above 36deg, we cooled in the water for the afternoon. There is a pulley system across the river to get dry kit to the other side to start the walk, which the kids had a lot of fun with.
The following day was another early start and there was little shade on the 2.5km dry, dusty walk to the gorge. It helped that you needed to swim across the river to the start point so you at least started the walk refreshed. Another lovely day, splashing, swimming and reading the day away. Clouds were beginning to materialise mid-afternoon as we began our return journey, all the others powered on while Reo’s little legs began to struggle and stumble over the rocky path. An older gentleman caught us up and started chatting, transforming Reo’s pilgrimage to a light trot and before we knew it, we were back. The Carcassonne championships continued back at camp and the kids began to get involved. Quickly hooked, we had to take it in turns to play!
Our final stay was at Mount Elizabeth cattle station where we explored Wunnamurra Gorge, just 12km from the homestead but a 3-hour drive. Just as we began our journey, a couple in a Mitsubishi Challenger took off before us. Ben, sitting comfortably in his Hilux, was quick on the radio joking about letting the wooden duck go first, to which an instant retort of ‘well the Hilux has a higher suspension allowing for better lift’ was shot back. The Mitsubishi Challenger had been on the same radio channel! So, the radio banter continued and we ended up travelling as a 3-some. The track was weather-beaten, rocky and fun to drive. We were rewarded with a pristine gorge with a deep, cool refreshing water hole and the best rock art we’d seen yet, The Wandjina. The Wandjina represents the creator spirit for the Aboriginal people of the Kimberley region and they believed that the Wandjina’s were responsible for bringing the annual rains and storms to the region, and thus the people refreshed the images annually to maintain the power of the Wandjinas and ensure the return of the rains and renewal of fertility to the area.
Our last night together the adults decided to eat out at the homestead, while the kids stayed at camp and watched a movie or two (don’t worry, we did feed them!). We ate with 2 other couples, one of them being our newly found 4WD comrades Emma & Greg. We chatted the night away devouring the home cooked food, I even ate the bread and butter pudding – such an English dessert – which I usually shun when I’m back at my parents. It still tasted how I remembered! The night flew by and as the other couples departed, we weren’t ready to retire, the party animals that we are…. So, out came Carcassonne for a final showdown. I don’t like to brag, so I’m sure you can guess who won the game 😉
It was a sad day when we parted ways from our new-found besties and neighbours. The 2 weeks had gone fast, yet we’d packed so much in. Another 2 items ticked off the Kimberley list; sandstone and limestone gorges and cave systems along with ancient rock art. It had been so good travelling with like-minded friends, a synonymous relationship, where we’d taught them to slow down a little more and for us, to increase the chillaxation (is that even a word?!) and have fun with the games. It was BIG hugs all round before they drove off into the distance and left us wondering where we’d drive to next.
Don’t like the idea of all those crocs wandering about. What do they eat during the dry season apart from careless Travellers.
Going to look up those card games and Carcassonne!