# NT - Gulf of Carpentaria 2010, Part 3



## murd

*Nt- Gulf of Carpentaria, Part 3, 2010*

Welcome to the concluding 'Part 3' of my 2010 holiday adventure through Australia's Gulf of Carpentaria (about _bloody time_, I hear some of you say but with Christmas, New Year, summer social activities, the Qld flooding and especially Oprah's visit it was unavoidable). As with earlier publications in this series, Part 3 is a lengthy read and I have tried to underscore my words with a selection of photos and short movies to keep people awake and focussed on their monitors. This chapter of bush travel kicks off during the morning of the 24th September, the day after a crocodile hurt my kayak near Borroloola. So pour a beverage, make yourself comfortable and have a gander at something that took_far_too long to put together!

*Introduction and general preamble:*
Friday 24th September, 2010. Sleep can work wonders to clear the head, even if the subject matter overshadowing most dreams concerned the odd cranky crocodile or two. Surprisingly the sun made a full return on wakeup, any hint of an unseasonal downpour becoming just a memory. With the weather in total contrast to the past 24 hours, I nearly opted to revisit the river where the reptiles chew plastic but cancelled at the last minute, solely because I couldn't be bothered backtracking. On a positive note, leaving it alone meant I'd have something to come back to if and when I ever revisited the Territory.

Sadly, I was saying goodbye to Frankie today as he had to return home to pursue a modelling career (I think that's what he said). I'd rate him a decent sort of guy and would have no hesitation recommending him as a blind date to anyone going bush. It was a shame he'd miss what I had planned for Stage 2 of the adventure though, which included not just the quite productive Limmen and Cox Rivers, but a large freshwater lake I hadn't seen before and had a good feeling about. 
*1*








_Frankie at the Borroloola caravan park, and the photo which opened 'new doors' for him. _

My first activity on the 'to do' list had nothing to do with kayaking, involving a bush walk to a geological feature west of the Southern Lost City in the Limmen National Park. The Southern Lost City covered in last years report is a petite version of the West Australian 'Bungle Bungles' and easily accessible by car, being only a short detour from the main road. My interest this year lay not with the Southern Lost City itself, but in a separate collection of rocks located a little over a kilometre away from the tourist loop track. I'd studied these formations in the binocular on past visits and again on Google Earth and felt they needed a closer look. National Parks don't provide access tracks into this area or even talk about what's 'out there' so trailblazing with commonsense navigation would be required for the excursion. In the months since planning this minor deviation from fishing I'd been somewhat excited. Curiosity and perseverance has seen me discover many choice treasures in the outback over the years and I was hoping for another pot of gold at the end of this hike!

*On the Road:*
A reasonable amount of familiar bad dirt needs to be covered before reaching the turnoff to the Southern Lost City. What made this drive a little different to other years however, became the amount of pools and puddles sitting around from the evening storm cells. Erratic precipitation aside I always take things nice and easy across the gravel to avoid breaking things, or so I thought before plunging into one particularly deep bulldust pit a little too late. All four wheels smashed against the exit rim of the crater in a sickening crunch that made me think the struts or rear trailing arm had been torn from the metal. Stopping to check for damage, I was surprised to find everything still connected and working. Running lower tyre pressures had clearly absorbed the impact and protected my ride, a lucky escape and one that I wouldn't like to repeat in a hurry.

One place to look out for on the 'highway' is the area around Bauhinia Station where many of the creek crossings are spring-fed and can be quite deep, especially where graders have tried to improve the bottom and created a 'plunge pool' for little cars. I was relieved to find on reaching these creeks that the water was driveable in the Swift and the ground firm enough for the road tyres to grip. Without cameraman Frankie about to operate the Canon, I utilised the tripod to film some of the crossings. Here's a frame from one of them with the link to the full clip below it:
*2*








_Crossing a muddy creek near Bauhinia Station. These creeks need to be initially walked as going through blind could see water exceeding the safe level and sucked into the engine, or the wheels jammed against a rock._

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=RjelSsZ1 ... er&list=UL
_Suzuki Swift doing it tough in the bush, Sept 2010 #4 _

*The 'Garden of Eden':*
Creeks, corrugations, stones and bulldust didn't stop the car and I made a successful entry into the Southern Lost City carpark to begin my hike:
*3 *








_I took this photo in Sept 2009 showing the area in the background where I planned to trek to a year later. What interested me here mainly was the concentration of sandstone pillars in that bit of a gully in centre shot plus the dense vegetation portrayed around it on the satellite image. I originally considered entering this gully from the highway end, which is about 1.4km distance as the crow flies however that would have brought me over the top of the ridge with potentially difficult access through. See what I mean in the aerial screen capture below:_
*4*








_The terrain to the left of the gully here is viewed from a one-kilometre altitude and shows how awkward it would have been trying to find a way through from the main road. Approaching from the Southern Lost City side eliminated this encumbrance - but probably took a lot of fun out of the hike!_

The trek to the gulley was always going to be fun. With air temps hovering in the mid 30s and the humidity abnormally high, half my water was already gone by the time I'd found somewhere safe to ascend the steep hill from the loop track. Running dry didn't bother me at the time as I was planning on finding a spring at the end of my hike and replenishing there.

Once across the plain to where the vegetation density took a marked leap, I noticed dampness on a narrow creek bed and followed it, coming to a few clear tiny pools barely flowing. Knowing I'd soon be getting a welcome drink I scaled an unusual amount of fallen trees, inched carefully between pockets of nasty nettles and trod where snakes were supposed to be before reaching a hidden glade of red pillars awash with butterflies. Taking a seat I smiled at my little discovery, and the fact that I had actually found my spring.
*5*








_Pictures don't do this place justice but I took a few anyway to reflect upon. While exploring in and around the pillars and trees I imagined I had stumbled across a lost world and half-expected some forgotten genus of humanoid to materialize from behind a rock. At one stage I thought I was being watched and called out to whatever or whoever it was. There was nothing frightening about the experience, but I didn't think I'd sleep too well if I decided to camp there alone for the night._
*6*








_The series of small pools I followed took me to this micro-chasm and source of the flow, a 1.5m deep pond of crystal clear and surprisingly cool water. A throng of butterflies lifted from the walls as I moved in to drink and fill my canteen. If this wasn't the biblical 'Garden of Eden', then I was sure it was pretty damn close to it. _

As I explored the glade uncovering interesting geological marvels to appreciate, a thing which puzzled me became the amount of trees in specific areas that had been totally flattened, as if a blast or explosion had caused their unfortunate demise. Intense water flows could be to blame however the usual signs accompanying fast runoff such as flotsam and jetsam were missing. I tried to imagine what else might be held responsible and wondered about those strange sightings in the sky the NT is famous for, and the things I have witnessed there over the years.
*7*








_Here is a high view looking back to the ridge in the background where I commenced my trek from. I had a bellyful of pond water in me for the walk back but found I barely needed a refill, especially after the sky clouded over giving relief from the furnace across the plain._

*Onto the Limmen River:*
_'What an awesome little detour that was'_, I thought leaving the Southern Lost City carpark, caked in dried sweat and sucking on a chilled coke. My next stop was the memorable Limmen River where I'd planned a few days rest and recreation on the southern bank of the approach to the crossing. Last year the rangers placed rocks across the track into the camping area to prevent people staying on the bank (as they caused unnecessary erosion we were told&#8230 Craig and I managed to 'break in' back then much to the displeasure of the young female officer on duty. _Hmmm, what would I find in 2010&#8230;? _
*8*








_ Seems like the rangers got a bit more serious this year with keeping people out! My original intention if finding rocks in the way was to use a prepared rope to tow them away. One look at this mess however said I'd be wasting my time. At this point I became incredibly angry knowing the place I'd happily stayed at a number of times since 1999 had been shut down. _

As a mark of respect to the good times I'd enjoyed on the Limmen bank, I took a walk around the old haunt visiting simple things such as a flat stone collected seven years ago for a floor complement to my 'bathroom', to the nail in the tree used to secure the solar shower. Sitting on a log I gazed down the bank towards the pool where I'd launched the kayak those so many times, and often enjoyed a morning latté with the birds and waking flies. Knowing it could never happen again saddened me somewhat. It's probably silly becoming attached to inanimate objects and abandoned energies but the old Limmen camp featured heavily in my development in the Gulf, especially during 1999 when I first stayed there.

Having a backup plan in the bush is a rule I always follow. With several other options to investigate if finding the old camp inaccessible, I followed a track a little up the road opposite the ranger's 'breakwall', coming to a level clearing above the bank and river. When I investigated this same place several years earlier it was overgrown and inhospitable and someone has put in a lot of effort to improve it.
*9*








_ This was 'location location' material in bush Real Estate terms and a fitting replacement for my old place across the road (RIP old place across the road). I can't believe the change here from when I last saw it including the easy track down to the river. Another feature I liked became the small tidal creek below the bank which provided (brackish) water to wash and a new tree to attach the solar shower. This same creek was also well positioned to get the kayak into the river._
*10*








_Showing the mouth of the creek (at low tide) used to facilitate launch into the Limmen River. An advantage in staying here over the old site meant there was no need to get the boat over the causeway and through two sets of rocky shallows (unless the tide was up). It's these little things which seem to spoil you in the bush, especially when I recall a time I once carried a kayak through a kilometre of spiky spinifex and down into a gorge._

I didn't paddle the day I arrived at the Limmen, being too late in the afternoon and happy enough just to set up camp and take it easy for once. Moods were high and I was glad I'd made the decision to push on west from Borroloola and not drive home. As night took hold of the land I put some music on, opened a couple of beers and enjoyed the experience of being alone in the wilderness cherishing nature and life. Naturally, thoughts kept drifting back to the crocodile attack and without people to talk to I began debating the logistics of getting back into the water again. Struggling with indecision I started listening to one of the audio cd's in the car titled 'Miracle in the Andes', a story by Nando Parrado who survived a plane crash in the Andes in October 1972. Parrado spent 72 days on the side of a glacier with a number of other survivors before walking out to be rescued. To manage so long without food the group consumed the bodies of the dead around them. An incredible story I soon realised, and one which made mine seem more than a little pathetic! But, it became the valuable inspiration I needed.

*Back in the saddle *:
Perfection could only describe the morning as the sun peaked through the trees sending spears of warmth across a dew-soaked land. Sleeping in has never been an option at the Limmen with simply too many birds sensing the micro-lumen change in light from night to day and deciding then would be the appropriate time to squawk their heads off. Once a steaming 'Limmen latté' had gone down, the time to get wet arrived.

Moving about the river was easier than expected, until I saw my first ripple. In near panic I grabbed the rifle before realising that's all it was, a ripple generated by the incoming tide. Ripples were appearing everywhere driving me crazy and I had to settle down if I was going to concentrate on landing a fish. Fortunately I did, managing to lose an early barra near launch before nabbing one on a metal spinner near an outcrop a few kilometres on.
*11*








_I've caught barra in the past on this very outcrop using metal tailor spinners while casting to queenies. Seems as long as the lure's moving, they're not fussed. _

Pushing down to a tidal bar where the Limmen opens into substantial wideness, I scanned the area with the binocular a little nervous but confident the next ripple or wave wouldn't spook me again. Tracking a right-hand bend close to the bank I conducted another sweep, extending the inspection well down through the trees along the immediate shoreline. Something caught my eye 200 metres away as I focussed on an object that resembled the forearm of a massive saltwater crocodile. Losing sight of it for a moment, I quickly found the 'forearm' again and between branches and leaves managed to discern the thick upper trunk and head of a formidable beast enjoying peaceful slumber. _'Ah shit!'_ I said quietly, _'What the hell's that doing here&#8230;'_

Avoidance was the best option in dealing with a creature so large so after unclipping the rifle as a precaution, I quietly moved 80 metres to the facing bank before picking up the binocular again. To my surprise all I could see was the Australian bush. Crocs have incredible vision and where I needed '10x' magnification just to recognise it, this thing spotted me with ease. My heart raced a little knowing a giant predator had cloaked itself somewhere in the river but believing I was at a safe distance from it, didn't feel threatened. I also realised then how calm I was, approaching the situation with clear thinking and direction and not turning to jelly as I expected. So relaxed was I in fact, that my stroke became slow casually waiting for the head to appear and not wanting to miss it.

As luck turned out the croc didn't come up on my right side as hoped, choosing to make its welcome five metres directly behind me. I never actually saw it, but witnessed the extremely powerful surge of the tail as the startled animal thrust away. My paddle hit the water a millisecond later as I aimed for downstream, fear filling my body and expecting to feel the crush of plastic any second. Two hundred metres later I stopped where the bottom shallowed to recompose myself. _Damn_, I thought, _that was a little too close for comfort!_ The encounter though unmistakably frightening, had given me a much needed awakening and became what I required to snap me back into reality and get the job done.
*12*








_Several kilometres on, I came across this newly graded access into the river. It seemed strange why someone (the rangers?) would construct a ramp in the middle of nowhere but I suppose it served some purpose. Exploring beyond the bank I found a small tinnie tied to a tree and nearly took it out for a paddle before changing my mind. Obviously with such a handy jump into the river camping is considered however I couldn't find anywhere overly attractive near here to stay. _

Four nice barra landed plus a few escapees made for a nice return to the Limmen River. I didn't keep any for dinner, aiming to get rid of some of the canned food in the car to make a bit more space. Half a block of ice remained in the esky but calculations estimated it would be gone within 24 hours. That meant apportioning all the beer over the next two evenings while it was still cold, something which didn't really bother me.

The evening concluded listening to Andes crash survivor Nando Parrado and his mates getting stuck into a cocktail of human body parts on the glacier. I was really enjoying this book and had a few more titles available for the ride home, one being the 16 hour 'Da Vinci Code' by Dan Brown which was supposed to be half a decent story.

*New day, another adventure:*
Sleeping in the car is something I strangely look forward to on my trips away. Being slightly elevated by the seat means my spine isn't stretched or bent and I experience less back problems than in a regular bed. Furthermore, I believe my snoring is reduced.

My second day at the Limmen was set down as a serious fishing day. After waking in peak physical condition and brewing up a steaming a latté amongst the birds and lizards, I didn't waste time launching through the creek with barramundi in mind. Barely a minute passed before the opening strike came, not from the target species but a mature archerfish that quickly became breakfast for one of the river's 'grey suits':
*13*








_09:07am. A minute on the water and my first fish gets sharked by a hungry bully. I tried to capture the event on film but once the shark had his fill of sushi it disappeared._
*14*








_ View towards one of the Four Archers, a mesa-type rock formation situated on the eastern bank of the river. This large pool has a particular snag in it (sunken tree) that holds plenty of barra but is cruel on gear. Every year when I troll over it I lose a lure to a fish and this time was no exception. _
*15*








_About to head through the final set of tidal rapids on the river (near the Four Archers) before reaching open water. Around the bend to the right here was where the large crocodile appeared the morning before. I was obviously very nervous for the next kilometre here but never saw it again. Below is a short video passing though this rapid which gives a better perspective of things._





_About to go through rapids on the Limmen River, NT, Sept 2010_

*16*








_This frame from one of my clips shows a little barra jumping for the camera. The fishing was reasonable during this day in the Limmen but only in patches. Nothing huge was caught and it seemed the metre-monster would elude me for yet another year._
*17*








_01:17pm. The headwind was becoming a nuisance by about now so I pulled into this protected alcove for lunch (canned mangoes and fruit bars) before struggling into it a little further and turning around. Two and a half kays later while riding the wind and chop upstream, I realised I'd left my sentimental Swiss army knife behind on a rock. Going back to retrieve it was not one of my most enjoyable moments in life!_

*Evening bliss:*
My second day fishing the river provided six nice barra and two lost lures, plus many other strikes and near misses. I'd rate it as a good day's angling and typical of the Limmen guaranteeing a bent rod. Again I didn't keep anything for dinner with my food box still packed with cans and assorted edibles that I wanted to get rid of.

As expected the ice in the esky had shrunk to barely a large cube. I stared at the last few cans of Tooheys sitting quietly in the chilled water and knew they had to go. Sometimes you have a beer or two and it feels good. Above the bank of the Limmen surrounded by nature and wildlife, the experience was indescribable. I put some tunes on as the sun began to set and lit a fire to augment the mood, feeling like I was at a party for one. Filling in time before 'Nando' and his crew of cannibals entertained me again, I wondered about saving the cold water from the esky. There was a slim chance of running dry before reaching Roper Bar since I was down two collapsible bladders. Let me explain - earlier in the trip, the two 10-litre Chinese inflatable bladders I'd picked up from 'Super Cheap Auto' had turned the water they carried toxic and undrinkable - one was 'shot' in anger at River X and the second emptied at the Wearyan. I've since been to SCA to report this to them but they failed to do anything about it and still sell the product.

Desperate times involve desperate measures so I collected what I could into a couple of 2-litre containers for later consumption. A note when doing this is to avoid pouring any 'floaters' into the bottle. My floaters consisted mainly of dead insects, dirt, plant matter and whatever other bacteria grew on the inside of the stained plastic. Gross I know, but while the water was cool the taste was adequate and I don't think I suffered any adverse effects.

I was sure I'd be heading off in the morning to the Cox / Limmen junction, a place well known by Junglefisher (Craig) who had a terrifying experience there last year when a colossal crocodile bumped his kayak and gave him a loving stare. Knowing what could happen in the Cox was making my heart race but I wouldn't miss it for the world.

Nando Parrado finished his incredible tale by midnight. I was gob-smacked. Never before had I heard such a compelling and motivating story of survival and friendship and it left quite an impression on me, especially during a recorded interview concluding the book. Interestingly, Parrado mentioned that since being rescued from the glacier he has embarked on a number of high risk activities, one being driving racing cars. When asked why he does this after suffering such an ordeal he answers calmly: 'Adventure gives me a thrill&#8230;' Thanks Nando mate - that sums up my life pretty much the same!

*Relocation:*
When I woke the next morning I contemplated another session in the Limmen but decided to move to the Cox River junction for a change of scenery. Even though I wilfully make the call to sometimes leave a guaranteed bite, I often wonder whether it's my subconscious talking instead, telling me to get out before too much of a pattern for the predators is mapped out on the water. I knew there was a huge croc stationed in the Limmen and maybe I had been under observation for the past two days. Nevertheless, I had something new to check out in the form of a sizeable lagoon near the Cox turnoff. Satellite imagery indicated it could just be an overgrown lily pond but being only a minor detour, meant little time would be wasted visiting it. 
*18*








_Dismantling the Limmen quarters. It's amazing how a simple piece of silver plastic can create such a homely atmosphere. I'd miss all the animals around here, especially the black snakes that had a habit of sitting on the narrow track down to the creek and that big thing which kept trampling around the bush at night. _
*19*








_When I arrived at the new lagoon I discovered a large overgrown wetland unsuitable for the rod. Schools of fish were bubbling on the surface here and there but I didn't put a lure out for obvious reasons. For anyone into bird watching, this place was unbelievable with dozens of species wandering around the reeds and banks. Typically though, someone had recently torched the land to the left of shot leaving it charred and still partly smouldering. See below:_
*20*








_This is part of the Limmen National Park and they still light fires? Go figure&#8230;_

Leaving the lagoon in a cloud of 'black' dust I motored out to the Cox junction to make camp. Planning to stay in the same clearing as last year, I was disappointed finding it no longer a 'clearing' with dead wet season growth covering it. My first hour at the river was spent tidying up the land for a space for the car before widening it in case a fire came through. Oddly the countryside on the track in hadn't been burnt (couldn't explain this one) and I was worried of someone drawing straws soon to torch it.
*21*








_The tall brush on the left of the image shows some of what had to be removed to make the place liveable. I found it pulled from the soil easily enough but still became very hot work in the heat. For something different I got to share the Cox with an elderly gent (Fred) camped above the track to the river. Fred had been there a few days in his truck doing a bit of fishing and crabbing and waiting for his son from Darwin to arrive._

Being caught out organising camp, the earliest I could get wet became mid-afternoon when the breeze was well up and blasting along the exposed Limmen. I managed a small barra near launch but that became the only thing picked up for the next few hours put in. Morning would see things calm again and that was when I'd make an effort to cover more ground, both in the Limmen and up in the Cox beyond the bar.
*22*








_Afternoon shot of the Cox River with the Limmen junction in the background. Everything looks fairly calm here however out in the unprotected Limmen the wind powers upstream and creates hell for small plastic kayaks._
*23*








_Tidal runout at the Cox bar. Whenever I've stayed at this place, I've listened to the rush of water emptying over the rocks for most of the night before the tide switches, levels rise and the noise quells by morning. On this occasion the tides were changing on dusk, flooding the bar and killing the racket for something different. Nights around the bar are always fantastic for a spotlight and before hitting the sack I'd seen three estuarine crocs, a stack of cherubin, several schools of fish and a file snake. Fred said earlier that day that his crab pots were being smashed by something he believed was a large croc. I never saw anything too oversized in the beam of the 'LED Lenser' and hoped the damage pointed to a big cod or groper._

*Let's explore a bit:*
Waking the next morning saw idyllic conditions and an opportunity to investigate and fish the Limmen's downstream banks and islands. Launching once breakfast was out the way, I recalled those smashed crab pots and naturally felt a little nervous, keeping the rifle out as a precaution. This area of Australia being the crossroads of two river systems has in the past produced some large and determined beasts. Previous years have seen several dramas unfold around these saurians and recent events meant I wouldn't be letting my guard down. Part of the morning's excursion took me into a spooky creek off the main channel that had a possibility of jacks along the banks. Needless to say, this creek gave me the absolute creeps. I managed to film part of it and it's worth a look to understand how nervous I was - random bird noises add a nice effect:





_Paddling a very creepy creek in the Limmen River, NT Sept 2010._

Guessing I wouldn't be catching much in the Limmen that morning, I decided to focus on just having a look at things while the winds were down. Part of the excursion took in a large sandy island in the main channel that I was familiar with but had never set foot upon. When I neared the shoreline a disturbance beneath the surface made me snatch the rifle. Thinking about it later, it was probably only a school of frisky mullet but at the time any kind of flutter in shallow water had to be treated as a threat. Here are a few digital memories from the island visit:
*24*








_Large sand drift, looking west towards the cliff line. I've come ashore on the beach in the background._
*25*








_A greener part of the island, viewed north._
*26*








_View looking upstream, or south._
*27*








_The only human tracks around here were mine. I had a crazy but serious thought about camping on the island up under the vegetation in photo #25. Whether I would get any actual sleep during the night or not was an obvious concern. _

Two hundred metres downstream I visited a smaller island in the channel with a tempting rocky section of bank on its southernmost point. The local reptiles likewise showed interest here as the next photo shows:
*28*








_This large crocodile slide had me looking over my shoulder several times but whoever made the track never came back while I was there. Naturally, the slide put a significant damper on camping on the previous island._

*Fun in the Cox:*
Despite being 'fishless' all morning, the outing on the calm Limmen had provided more than enough to make the kilometres covered worthwhile. Strangely, I hadn't seen a single crocodile since setting off but that didn't mean I ever doubted their presence and the binocular underwent a regular workout. My next mission while the day was relatively young would embrace the Cox River. The last time I paddled the Cox the crocodiles were thick and several needed more than a few warning shots to keep them away. Those who read last years' report on this river would remember the lucky escape my companion had back then. Based on what happened in 2009, I was expecting some sort of confrontation over the hours.

I had a chat with Fred before setting off, learning how he had a general dislike of crocs and convinced I needed more than a rifle to fight my way through them. Reaching under the front seat of his truck he pulled out a home-made revolver and asked that I take it for the day. The weapon, a shortened .22 calibre rifle was exceedingly heavy and probably inaccurate but at close range could prove beneficial. With two firearms in the kayak plus a 'take-down' knife I felt safer than ever and dared those pesky crocs to have a go!

When I eventually got moving the tide was ebbing making for some initial hard paddling through a narrow channel before the wider, more manageable pools were reached. Deploying the lure while keeping a watchful eye around me, I didn't expect the rod to suddenly buckle under the weight of something substantial. Following a long tussle that saw me come to shore to beach a fish that was too large for the net, I had my first 'PB' for the trip. To my surprise, I didn't have a clue what it as (and to this day still don't). Here it is:
*29*








_ Moments before hooking this mystery fish I was on crocodile watch, as last year the shoreline behind me in this photo released a large saltie which was repelled by gunshot. I've included a short video below showing the fish and where it was caught, plus the all-important release. Maybe you can identify it? _





_Fishing the Gulf of Carpentaria, NT Sept 2010._

Enjoying such a fine start to the outing I took the kayak deeper upstream, trolling likely spots for the barra I knew were about. At around 02:00pm I came across the deep pool where Craig last year nearly met his untimely fate with a monster saurian. I was particularly nervous heading into the same pool and glassed it several times with the binocular before placing the revolver by my side as a precaution, the rifle released from its cradle cocked and ready to fire. At this point I felt ready for battle and believed only a foolish crocodile would try to take me on. 
*30*








_This is a picture of the revolver lent to me for the afternoon. I'm glad I tested it earlier because the case of the first shell I fired became jammed in the breech and wouldn't extract without a lot of fiddling about. There are no sights on it so aiming was done along the barrel. An advantage with this sort of calibre though small, is that it can be fired underwater. Below is a little clip talking about guns and crocs, typical topics in the Gulf when sitting alone in a green tub contemplating being eaten._





_Good protection when kayaking around crocs, Cox River 2010._

Keeping near the bank I instigated a slow troll, confident of getting something quickly in the deep water along the edge. And in less than ten seconds I did, the rod bending savagely as line screamed from the reel giving me a near heart-attack. The fight was cut short moments later however by a large bull shark that bit the fish clean in half:
*31*








_Damn you, shark! The speed with which the shark zeroed in on the barramundi was incredible. I actually think the moving lure attracts them so when a strike occurs, the shark is naturally nearby. The bite here was so clean and quick that the barra continued putting up a struggle. Check out the video below of this poor fish. Warning - Video contains disturbing images of nature and may distress some people:_





_Barra sharked in the NT while kayak fishing, Sept 2010._

A half-hour later I noticed plumes of grey ahead of me and knew some douche-bag had started a fire. Being upwind meant it wouldn't be an issue but then I sensed traces of smoke from behind. Camp was also in that direction and I had an awful thought that a separate blaze could be affecting it. Debating whether to continue with a guaranteed afternoon bite or turning around to salvage the car, I swung the bow downstream. As this is a family forum I can't print the words said to those who'd just ruined my day.
*32*








_Looking towards the fire as it begins to take a firm hold on the scrub. In only a few minutes this developed into a serious blaze with the smoke blocking out most of the horizon. About a minute following this shot I detected traces of something burning behind me and began to panic about the car, wishing I'd cleared an even wider area around it._

*Downtime:*
The car hadn't been touched by fire, nor was there any indication that one had come remotely close. Fred didn't report anything burning and seemed a little bemused at my concern, adding how the locals knew people were camped at the crossing and wouldn't start anything until they'd gone. _Hmmm _, I thought, _how considerate of them! _ I ended up keeping the sharked barra which when filleted, provided just enough meat for a meal. The frame wasn't wasted and fed the cheeky local sea eagle that had a reputation of stealing fresh fillets from the rocks at the bar while heads were turned. After dinner I enjoyed a few ports and began listening to the Da Vinci Code - from the first paragraph I knew this would a long, drawn out story but decided to put up with it to find out what the 'code' was and learn about Opus Dei.

Nights in the bush are also the times for 'digital housekeeping' with the photos and videos in the camera examined for retention or deletion. A couple I took using the digital zoom featuring small things living around the river were saved and are worth sharing:
*33*








_Moth's head._
*34*








_Creepy spider with too many eyes and silver armbands (look closely - wtf&#8230_
*35*








_I thought I'd include this shot of a lure retriever I made for the trip after copying what the 'Strikeback' company sell from about $89 plus shipping - mine cost $3.50 (and everyone has an old hand-spear gathering dust in the garage to modify, don't they?) This device allowed me to rescue every lure I snagged on the bottom, excluding those taken by fish._

*Dawn at the Cox:*
People have probably realised by now that early mornings in the Gulf are typically the most ideal times to be on the water when things are nice and calm and air temperatures the lowest. The only thing hostile to a paddler taking advantage of these conditions are crocodiles. Too early, and the reptiles will still be underwater and invisible. Leave it too late however, and the sea breeze will quickly take that sheen from the surface. Ideally a balance needs to be found between the two which is why in dubious or new waterways I rarely launch before 9am, no matter how tempting things might appear.

The new day saw everything perfect for a second attempt at the Cox River for a fish. Feeling overly cheated the afternoon before, I was keen to navigate its full ten kilometre length to the road crossing and work lures the entire distance. There was no point doing it tough though, deciding to delay launch until the tide was well and truly pushing over the bar and letting the current help me along. Fred asked if I wanted the revolver again but I declined, feeling the rifle was adequate in a system where the crocs seemed to have vacated for the moment.

The first barra was picked up within ten minutes of setting off, along a wide bank where the flow was beating along quite steadily. Normally I'd play the fish a bit on the light mono I use but when I saw a two metre bull shark snapping at its tail shortly into the fight, I grabbed the net and managed to scoop it up in a very 'green' state. That barramundi seriously owes me its life!
*36*








_Releasing the luckiest barramundi in Australia - the shark is probably still wondering how it's meal managed to suddenly vanish._
*37*








_The Cox River is an interesting waterway to paddle with its twists and turns and array of islands to appreciate but offers too many reptilian recluses to ever become complacent. Navigating the channels between the islands as shown here leaves your heart pounding hoping the next stroke doesn't put your ride onto a monster asleep in the reeds or on a beach (yes, it has happened in this river). One particularly long bank of bulrushes runs down a wide section of the Cox that I will never go near. Crocs in reeds are not nice as they can't be seen and tend to emerge on warp speed._

The distance from the bar to the causeway is about ten kilometres and was completed under generally sunny skies. A little smoke remained from the fire which had since extinguished yet nothing requiring covering the face with a wet rag. Coming back the usual afternoon build-up of cloud began to take place, extending to several lively storm cells. Not long after the photo below was taken, one of those systems passed directly over me resulting in a drenching from the front while my back baked in hot sunshine.
*38*








_Heading back after reaching the causeway, I pulled up on these (windy) rocks for a few casts across a bit of a deep channel where the tide was running, managing two small barramundi for my efforts and feeling the bumps from several others as they played with the lure. This gave me a final tally of seven for the day plus a nice bream which were all released. I still hadn't seen any crocs in the river which became entirely weird considering the ideal environment the Cox offered them._

*Destination 'Big Lake':*
The storm which dumped on me in the river had also impacted camp. Sunny skies saw things didn't stay wet too long though, with the ground starting to bake again as per normal. I began packing for a large freshwater lake I'd been curious about for the past nine months. Whether it contained fish or not didn't bother me, as I just wanted somewhere nice to stay with good views and ambience and a bit of wildlife.
*39*








_Shortly on leaving the Cox camp, I spied this handsome frilled-neck lizard in the grass. I tried my hardest to get him to spread his frills for the lens however he wouldn't oblige. The constant fires throughout the Gulf tend to wipe these guys out so I rated it as a lucky sighting._

The track from the Cox camp is generally in good condition except where cows have damaged it with their hooves leaving left suspension-clunking imprints to rattle across. With only 13 inch wheels fitted to the Suzuki, every hole is felt even when the tyres are deflated. The short clip below allows you to experience this same piece of earth. Note how the grass still hasn't been burnt through here yet - very unusual for this time of year.





_Track into the Cox River NT, damaged by cows Sept 2010._

Termite mounds seem to appear each year in the centre grass on this particular track and commonly get their tops knocked off by larger vehicles. Sometimes what remains is still a concern for cars which sit lower to the ground. The frame below shows one that would have caused a bit of damage if I'd hit it at speed. I refer to these as nature's 'bush bollards':
*40*








_A termite mound in the way with its top knocked off. Detouring through the bush to the right saw me go safely around it. _ 
*41*








_Here is the sidetrack to what I termed 'Big Lake' with glimpses of water in the background. What surprised me on getting here became the amount of times I'd driven straight past this track unaware of what was at the end of it. Camping wasn't overly functional near the 'loop' end so I took a short trip through the bush to find something better: _
*42*








_This place seemed more appropriate and became home. Any closer to the water though and the ground became soft causing things to sink. During a preliminary examination of the area I couldn't find any strong evidence that travellers ever came here except for a stickybeak or maybe a cuppa._

Big Lake appeared much larger in real life than what I expected. High water levels probably had something to do with it, judging by the amount of trees along the shoreline with their trunks underwater. One thing I found interesting when having a closer look at things was how many of those same trees were scarred by fire. This made me wonder whether the lake ever completely dried because if it did, then fish stocks would be restricted to those adapted to a life beneath the mud waiting for the next rains. With that thought in mind I didn't expect to catch anything over the next few days and relegated myself to surviving on bird-watching and relaxation.
*43*








_This shot gives an idea of the size of Big Lake. While the water was generally deep and clear, it suffered from a stringy type of weed that I knew would foul the hooks. The lure I chose to drag around was a Kokoda 'McDiver', a small shallow hardbody that has accounted for my biggest ever barramundi, several bull sharks, long toms, jacks, saratoga, archer fish, tarpon, trevally, cod, salmon, tailor, bonito, bream, queenies and a million sooty grunter. I only have a pair of these left and both lost their paint and sparkle years ago - nevertheless, they continue to catch fish. As I didn't get to the lake until quite late I didn't bother putting a line out, happy enough to simply paddle part of the shoreline and get a feel of the area while the winds were up._

*The mysterious lights:*
As yet another great day in the bush drew to a close I took a moment to appreciate the passionate chorus of birdsong satiating the shoreline of the lake. Darkness silenced the avians allowing frogs to make a disturbance and the little amphibians didn't waste time, bellowing croaks of affection to desirable mates in the reeds and grasses. Several thought finding a meal near the lamp held more sustenance than luring a date for the night and decided to spend their time under its radiant glow leaping onto luckless insects. I took it fairly easy on the night, making bread for tea and sitting back with a port listening to another episode of the Da Vinci Code. Feeling relaxed about life for the moment I stared out across the lake, did a double blink and nearly fell off the chair. On the surface a few metres behind some trees in the water appeared a strange pulsating light.

Naturally when alone in the wilderness and confronted by things that offered no rational explanation, I became somewhat bothered. Grabbing the rifle and binocular I tried to focus on what was causing the glow but as I watched it shrunk to a speck and vanished. A second light materialised thirty metres to the right of where it disappeared and began to throb in similar fashion before likewise extinguishing. Applying logic to what I had just witnessed, I looked up to the sky expecting a moon and cloud but saw neither. That left the stars being a possible cause however it didn't explain why one light went out and another began. Plus, even I know that big exploding balls of hydrogen and helium don't switch on and off at random.

When deciding to call it a night I locked the car and kept the rifle by my side. My imagination was running wild and I half-expected to be rudely awakened by some weed-covered aquatic creature staring through the window. The camera was also on hand and ready to capture the proof I needed to show I wasn't going mad. One lucky snap or video could make me a wealthy man if I made it to dawn alive.

*Exploring Big Lake:*
Slightly disappointed though clearly relieved, I rose the next morning without any suggestion of being accosted by the lake-ogre. The first thing I did was glass the region where the lights had been to try to discern a reason for their existence. A few lily pads were 'sort of' in the general area of the glow which had me thinking. Could lilies emit spontaneous radiance under the right conditions - a new theory to ponder and one which satisfied me for the moment. Mysterious luminosities aside, I'd organised a day's fishing in the lake and once breakfast was done, prepared to get underway.

*44*








_Early morning at Big Lake, viewed near camp. The first glow I saw appeared midway between the trees in centre shot here._
*45*








_After just a few minutes on the water I had a surprise when something hit the lure and I managed to land a tarpon. I've caught tarpon before in the Gulf and always see them as a fun by-catch when targeting other species. Little did I know that the tarpon in this particular lake didn't follow the general rules, a secret I was fortunate enough to discover during my time here._

Once this fish was released I instigated another troll and quickly connected to a second tarpon that cart-wheeled through the air and threw the lure. The third fish did the same before managing to get the fourth into the net. Preparing for what could possibly be the greatest tarpon experience of my life, the session came to a sudden early halt when a stiff breeze sprung up buffeting the surface to the point where fishing was impossible.

Naturally annoyed with the day being ruined so early, I filled in time exploring the edges of the lake where the breeze was more manageable. The main feeder creek of the system was something I wanted to have a look at and once found, made for an interesting option to arguing with the wind. Here's a type of tree snake on a tree (naturally) that I snuck up to for a photo:
*46*








_Being very silent, I was able to paddle right up to this snake in the creek before it realised I was there and slithered off to a higher branch._

Once the creek ran dry I abandoned the boat to continue upstream, finding several shrinking muddy pools that on closer inspection contained quite a few small fish. Estimating only days before the last traces of liquid evaporated, I did what any other caring yak-fisher would do and tried to save what I could by transporting them via 'can' to permanent water. Some didn't survive the stress of relocation too well but most seemed happy enough not to be feeding the meat ants which were in a frenzy picking off the dead and dying in the mud.
*47*








_A (muddy) can of little fish about to be released after the hundred-metre dash to freedom. The video below shows the release in more detail. People must remember here that I was trying to fill in time while the strong winds in the lake made fishing impossible. There are countless things to do in the bush when unable to get a line out - playing with little fish is just one of them. Anyway, here's the full clip releasing the first batch of 'survivors': _





_Saving trapped fish at 'Big Lake', NT Oct 2010._

I'm one for karma and believed rescuing some of these fish would calm the gusts and have tarpon jumping into the boat. Well, the wind only dropped marginally by late afternoon but at least the tarpon came on the chew. Most were lost as they took to the sky like kernels of exploding popcorn and only a few made it to the net. Tarpon have large eyes susceptible to injury from loose hooks and after seeing several maimed from this, decided to remove the front treble. This little modification saw my catch rate double with damaged eyes falling to zero.

*A 'Big Lake' roundup:*
The secret of Big Lake was its tarpon. How many it held would never be known but from what I'd experienced the schools were thick and often where one fish dropped the lure, others would repeatedly bump it. Such high numbers about meant the lake must never completely dry. With no obvious link to a major waterway or river system, these animals would have been living there for a very long time. It was a remarkable find and probably one unknown to most of the world. I believed I had only touched on the fishery and was keen to sample it again during the morning before the winds picked up again.

On nightfall I prepared myself for the mysterious lights and didn't have to wait long, seeing them appear some distance across from where they'd initially surfaced. Looking up I recognised the planet Venus and surmised its reflection was partly to blame. Similarly, other stars could be shining across the water yet that didn't explain why the lights were operating as if on a timer setting. I started to actually wonder whether tarpon feeding or spawning on the surface were catching glimpses of the stars on their iridescent silvery sides. I'll never know.

*Let's go fishing!*
Similar to dusk, sunrise at Big Lake became a rather vocal affair with the ludicrous amount of bird life available. I made a three minute audio recording with the camera to capture some of it which has been included below for those who might want a listen. I'd recommend putting the speaker volume on a decent level for this one and silencing any background noise. These sounds probably carry on right around the lake's foreshore but I was content with what I had to put up with.





_Morning serenity at 'Big Lake', NT Oct 2010._

With winds virtually non-existent but expected to pick up mid morning I made sure I was on the water early, trolling the same lure and trying to avoid the weed displaced by the surface turbulence over the past two days. My first capture was a surprise, a huge archer fish stretching from palm to elbow.
*48*








_A (very) large archer fish from Big Lake. I picked up several other species of fish while on the water but couldn't identify them. All would have looked great in a fish tank though._
*49*








_Throughout the morning I began getting a few larger tarpon into the net. The calm conditions allowed me to find the schools on the troll then cast into them without being blown to shore. Using light line with a low drag setting, these fish became extremely exciting to catch. I remember one that flew 1.8 metres in the air three times in quick succession before the treble dislodged. Below is a short video of the fish in photo. _





_ Catching Tarpon from 'Big Lake' in the NT, Oct 2010._

Once I'd surpassed my fill of tarpon for the morning I came ashore to pack, sad to leave my extraordinary piece of angling paradise and hoping its secret would never be discovered by those who might exploit it. While tossing out the last of the salted fish I'd used for the cherubin traps, something caught my eye and I gazed down in time to notice a deadly snake next to my left foot. A step sideways would have seen me on it and from the little I knew about snake behaviour, it probably would have bitten me. This is not the first time snakes have visited camp in the Gulf so I continuously look out for them, especially where the ground such as that around Big Lake is littered with shed skins.

*A new lagoon:*
The winds had returned with a vengeance by the time I'd waved goodbye to my lake to have a look at what was possibly the final chance of a paddle in the NT before steering the car home. 'Lomarian Lagoon' alongside the Roper River was always an option to wet the boat but over the years I tired of people saying, 'Don't go in there, it's full of crocs!' despite those same individuals never seeing a croc in the lagoon and relying on information passed on by others who'd also never seen a croc in the lagoon. So I discovered a solution in another, substantially bigger lagoon that the 'experts' never visit and therefore cannot comment on. It too was probably 'full of crocs' being an overflow from the Roper River and connected via a (dry) channel to Lomarian but I planned to find out first-hand what lived in it.

Once I picked up the sidetrack to my intended destination, I was pleased to see only part of it destroyed by cattle hooves enabling one of the easier drives completed over the past month. Initial impressions of the lagoon saw it somewhat larger than expected with enough water free from reeds to allow the paddle and lure to be worked through it unencumbered. Unfortunately the same breeze left behind at Big Lake was impacting the water surface, lifting up lily pads and creating unpleasant conditions for getting about. Parking under a stand of trees for shade near a smelly butchered pig, I took a walk to gain a better perspective of things.
*50*








_The lagoon here provides ample opportunity to explore, with 6.5 kilometres of wetland available for the kayak to navigate through. Logic says such a sizeable sanctuary near a major river system would accommodate big crocs and fish however I never bothered finding out, deciding early on not to launch._

Paddling the lagoon seemed like hard work in the prevailing conditions and I didn't feel like waiting for morning before the wind dropped. If I hadn't been spoilt at Big Lake I probably would have taken the plunge so abandoning the lagoon for another time wasn't a difficult choice. This meant I could finally head home!
*51*








_There are still quite a few lonely kilometres between 'Big Lagoon' and Mataranka where I wanted to leave from in the morning. Prior to reaching the bitumen, the Savannah Way crosses this pretty little stream flowing beneath the road. The water comes from a swamp to the left of shot and is crystal clear, extremely drinkable and even contains fish that swim beneath the highway._
*52*








_For my final night in the NT I decided to 'live it up' and stay at the fantastic 'Territory Manor and Caravan Park' (http://www.matarankamotel.com/). It always seems a little weird jumping back into civilisation again after spending so long in the bush but I resisted a comfortable cabin for another luxurious night in the front seat of the Swift. I couldn't go past the Marinated Roo Fillet in the restaurant however, plus a few iced beers to wash it down. A mistake I made here was overloading the plate. As my stomach had shrunk during the month, I could only finish about half of what I had taken from the 'all you can eat' salad and veggie bar. Maybe I should have settled for the 'Tequila Lime Pork' instead._

*Going Home:*
Oct 2nd, 2010. As mentioned in past reports on the Forum, a drive home from the NT in a 1986 Suzuki Swift is always an adventure. After a month of abuse to suspension parts and tyres it's a little like, 'Oh, lets see how far I get today?' To date the car has never left me stranded and even managed to sneak home unassisted after collecting a roo near Charleville in Sept, 2006. Those rattles and clunks erupting beneath the bonnet hadn't gone away and the acceleration lag noticed weeks earlier was more noticeable on the better roads. While everyone at the 'Manor' was still deep in slumber, I packed and began the long drive to Sydney.
*53*








_With 3500 kilometres ahead of me it pays to stretch the legs now and then, especially when afternoon temperatures hover around 38C for hours on end and the car doesn't have air-con. These windmill/water-tank arrangements are sometimes found at designated rest stops through the outback. People like to put out a tray of water for the birds and ask that travellers passing through keep them topped up. The photo below is a close-up of the sign on the fence. As you can see by my response to what someone had asked for, I obliged. (See bottom left corner of sign)_
*54*








_Here's what's written on the sign. Within seconds of refilling the dish, three happy little Zebra finches had come down for a drink._ 
*55*








_Three thirsty Zebras no more._

Everyone in Oz knows the drought in our country has broken (almost too much) and it was amazing driving through once dusty areas now carpeted in greenery. From Mt Isa to the Blue Mountains the normally brown landscape has had an amazing colour transformation. The cows are exceedingly fat and in one paddock I saw several in a herd too lazy to stand and eating their fill while lying down. Check out the carefree herd below in the attached clip where you get an idea of what drought-breaking rains can do:





_Lazy cows on a drought-broken Australian highway._

With grass comes macropods and despite there being enough feed around to keep them from the highway at night, many persisted to graze just off the road shoulder and cross in front of the car when startled by the exhaust or driving lights. The area coming into and leaving Charleville and Cunnamulla is notorious for roos and is where all damage to the car has occurred in the past. With Cunnamulla being my second night's stay I tried to avoid a night drive but found I couldn't. South from Charleville the first roo was supposed to hit me yet somehow I swerved from it, steered off the road then spun back onto the bitumen - everything you're not supposed to do but I wasn't getting the car smashed again. Ten minutes later a second roo tried to collect me and I barely managed to avoid that one as well. From that moment on I decided to reduce speed to avert impact and drove 170 slow kilometres in the dark doing no more than 50kph, listening to the Da Vinci Code and learning that Jesus was a bit of a player in his time.

*Final hours on the road:*
Cunnamulla to Sydney is an easy day in the car and on this trip, coincided with the long weekend. The police were out en masse and little known towns and communities were being patrolled by the Force as 'double-demerits' appeared on various signage along the road. When approaching Nyngan a caring motorist flashed his lights at me but needn't have bothered, my speed being well within the limit. Entering town I crossed the Warrego River and saw the boys in blue with a few cars pulled over. The cop checked his radar then waved for me to stop. _ 'Hmmm'_, I surmised, _'must be RBT or something.'_

After passing the sobriety test with flying colours the officer asked if I had any firearms in the car. I said I did and retrieved the rifle with my licence to show him. Someone dressed in plain clothes came across and took the weapon to another car to conduct some checks (I surmised the two other vehicles were going through similar inspections). The cop with me seemed like a decent bloke so I explained that I used the rifle to keep the crocs away from the kayak in the rivers up north, adding how one actually grabbed it before I had a chance to shoot. The officer literally 'took off' to examine the damage, taking some time before coming back: 'Quite a bite', he said smiling. 
'Yeah, I know - forgot to take the safety catch off. Don't normally let 'em get that close!' 
The cop smiled again as my gun was returned and I was allowed to leave, unlike the two other two parties who didn't seem to be having as smooth a run as I was.

At the culmination of three long days behind the wheel I pulled into a familiar driveway in Sydney's Northern Beaches. Gulf 2010 was over for another year.

*Conclusion:* 
Gulf 2010 will be remembered as a journey that tested me both physically and mentally. Many challenges were set and conquered along the way and I managed to gain valuable insight from the experiences I had. I felt the trip was well planned and prepared and became one of the better organised events I'd conducted over the decade. Still, one doesn't arrange for the local wildlife to throw a spanner into the works at times.

Since returning home I've managed to repair the car. It was nothing too serious, especially the lack of acceleration which became a perforated vacuum advancer on the distributor. Oh, the frightening 'clack, clack, rattle, clack, clack' near the timing belt on idle turned out to be the lower pulley vibrating against the timing belt cover - nothing a Stanley knife and an angle grinder on the plastic couldn't fix. I also needed to replace a worn front wheel bearing and the right driveshaft (which was reconditioned prior to setting off) that began clunking savagely in the joint.

The 2010 expedition covered 7,456 kilometres and consumed 574.56 litres of fuel at a cost of $824. An interesting statistic worth noting is that an incredible 77,224 kilometres have been driven in the Swift over the last 10 visits to the Gulf of Carpentaria. That's 1.9269792 times the circumference of the Earth - an amazing figure and one which shows the extraordinary distances people will travel to go kayak fishing.

I'd like to thank everybody who has followed not just this, but all previous adventures I've presented on the Forum. As you are probably aware, my trips are completed with just basic gear and equipment and a bit of bush common sense. I've proven time and time again that you don't need 'top shelf' fishing gear and a Toyota Prado with the latest Quintrex tinnie to catch a barra or have a good time in the Gulf. They might look nice on TV shows but the basic stuff in everybody's grasp does the same job. I don't think I mentioned the main reel I used on this trip. If interested, it was a 'Penn Slammer 360' spooled with 6kg Torture mono; a second, lighter spool of mono was used in Big Lake. The rod was a 'Silstar Crystal Blue Power Tip, Model CB 601SSL, 6-8kg.'

The camera taken along to capture all images was the Canon IXUS 80IS, an incredible piece of micro engineering with unbelievable features for a compact this size. I believe it was 'PC User's' top camera for nearly a year.

I know these have been longer than average reads for people on the Forum but I hope I've made them interesting enough to avoid 'fast forwarding' through the text just for the photos. A trip to the Gulf of Carpentaria could be a simple drive across the corrugations wondering about your next hot shower, or a unique chance to interact with the land and nature. Big Gorge, the cascading pools of River X and the magic of Big Lake revealed some of what is possible when focus extends beyond the windscreen of a car. Finally, I'd like to thank special guest 'Frankie' who took time out from his wonderful missus to tag along part of the way. He told me he lost 10kg in weight in the bush, double what I managed to displace and also picked up his first tan in a long time.

Cheers all,
Rick

A closing memory from the Big Gorge portage: Frankie, I still can't believe we carried our kayaks down this hill and didn't break our necks!









For anyone just tuning into this blog, here's the links to Parts 1 and 2:
*Part 1*
viewtopic.php?f=17&t=42861

*Part 2*
viewtopic.php?f=17&t=43901&start=0


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## si75

Ahhh - 3.30 on a Friday afternoon and what else could you wish for... (leans back and puts feet up on desk ready to read report)


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## scater

Oh well there goes the trip report comp for another month! Once again a fantastic read Rick and the way you bounced back after the mud gecko encounter had me shaking my head in admiration. You truly have the adventurous, wring-every-last-drop-out-of-life spirit of blokes like Malcolm Douglas and Hemingway and experinces like this are a fitting reward for your daring and persistence! Simply awesome stuff.


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## Cuda

Another stunning narration to accompany the great images you capture along the way Murd. I think you could quite easily put a fantastic book together on your N.T. trips. I don't know about other forum members, but I feel like I'm right there with you experiencing that amazing part of the world.
The sad part is that it's over for another year  
Thanks for sharing what must be a wonderful experience


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## si75

That was (another) bloody amazing read - thanks for all the time and effort you put into these reports for those of us that can only dream of such an experience!


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## action1974

Awesome timing for a Friday afternoon veg out. A company should sponsor him and pay for his fuel,food or something.


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## Junglefisher

Sheeeeez that's a huge blubberlip and on a lure? That's the first I've heard of caught on a lure.
Great report Rick, making bread, cold beer, sounds like I made you soft


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## willowonfire

Great stuff man.
Not sure I would ever pop my yak in one of those rivers though...
Crocs and snakes = nightmare central.
You must have some big Hairy Kahunas Murd...
Top read.
Clark


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## Barrabundy

For the area in photo 5 you mentioned how you felt you were being watched and how special a place it was. Did you come across any artwork/artifacts? The reason I ask is that, in my experience, when we find a place we feel is a bit out of the ordinary or "special", chance are that aboriginees felt exactly the same and had special uses for it (gathering place, burial cround, initiation ceremonies, feasting etc).

Fantastic report and of the usual exceptional standard....great reading and beats the tele!


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## Grantos

_The evening concluded listening to Andes crash survivor Nando Parrado and his mates getting stuck into a cocktail of human body parts on the glacier._

Rick,

After reading the above quote I now understand why Frankie had sudden cause to cut short his trip. He obviously saw the title of the book you were reading and thought if the crocs didn't get him first then you certainly would once your food stocks ran low. :shock: :lol:

Overall though, another quality read. Thanks again for sharing.

ps. You seriously should look at writing a book summarising your kayak exploits to the Gulf over the past 10 years, as I believe it would definitely be a winner.


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## snapperz

Thanks again Murd.Loved the read,loved the videos and the pics.I agree ,you should write a book of your exploits in the Top End.That old hand-made pistol was a beauty and I bet old Fred was a character.


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## skorgard

This is not a trip report but a modern epic! Inspirational and beautifully put together. Worth reading several times. Many thanks.

Also nice to see the old Abu Toby still scores.


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## roller

Well I've got to say sitting here in pommie land, reading this report its nothing short of inspirational and amazing, your'e a real Aussie, brother!

The recurring light in the water, could it of been made by a marine animal, like a prawn or even a fish?


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## linx

Is that a home made firearm?

Also great story , have read all of them many times.


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## TheFishinMusician

Bravo again murd!!
Thankyou for that most enjoyable read. 
Book time! 8)


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## paulsod

Paul


scater said:


> Oh well there goes the trip report comp for another month!


Definitely and if they have a annual one you deserve that too. 
Always a good read and stunning photography of the true bush. 
You should either get a book out of your experiences like the others wrote or get yourself a waterproof video camera and make a short film to sell to the tv channels.
Their fishing shows have nothing on you. If you go to them showing your reports they might even supply the gear.
Thanks Murd.
Paul


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## scorpio

Incredible report. Like reading a good book that you can't put down.And that is only probably part of what you remember. And I still have'nt watched the videos yet untill I clear some space on the laptop. Thanks.


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## Zed

I feel lax if I don't at least say something after you post these, so...
Thank you. Great report as always!


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## feelfree09

WOW!!!!! really cant say much else. definately hook up with a publisher and put out a book. i'll be first in line. and when you put out a dvd i'd buy that too. true pioneering spirit and absolute balls of steel well done mate


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## Brc226

Hi Rick,

Glad I took your advice and got a drink before I started reading because once I got into it there was nooo stopping. I have to say, you have a gift for putting you experiences into words because I felt as though I some how shared and went through those experiences with you. Thanks for taking the time to document your experiences and should you ever decide to put pen to paper, I too would offer my support.

Cheers again,
Rob


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## RedPhoenix

Unfortunately, due to the change in ownership of this web site and the lack of response by the owners to my requests to remove my email address from all administrative-level notifications and functionality, I have decided to remove my posts on AKFF. Thank you for the great times, the fantastic learning experiences and the many many fish. If you are desperate for the old content of this particular post, it is available below base64 encoded and bzip2 compressed.

Red.

----

QlpoOTFBWSZTWeqyDNYAACdfgBAQUIeRAhChEAo/7f+gMADFYNRoTNApo09T1NqZDR6hoVPTEJpoAAAMgDVPSemo0ANNAAAFcjC0aEsdSff2Lsw1crpYi2B+jMbte7CWxrcSaSzznhTcnxiqU/G2gxqLZzQFJgGMVdRDviSJghjFYs3ldBZ6mYIIhMRtNjATo0nIB6heuAQUthtVNE6VEiQiT8mNkfYrDeBw+0YDWQyAcEyXql6WJqyCeM6mNxekDa6TX1gaa4Q19pEEoWDDVuV7iFgwj05Gz4IGFGSAKL8XckU4UJDqsgzW


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## scater

RedPhoenix said:


> Brc226 said:
> 
> 
> 
> Glad I took your advice and got a drink before I started reading because once I got into it there was nooo stopping.
> 
> 
> 
> Bah. I didn't.. that was an hour ago. Neeeeeed an iced coffee now.
> 
> Bloody outstanding report, Rick - worth the wait.
> 
> Red.
Click to expand...

Haha I read the first line, consciously stopped myself and grabbed a beer. Rookie mistake Red :lol:


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## rawprawn

You're mad as a Hatter but a true adventurer at heart. Power to you man and thanks for the read.


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## Junior

nice report really interesting


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## murd

Hi all and thanks for the feedback on my report. I'll try to respond to a few of the comments made above:



> Cuda
> but I feel like I'm right there with you experiencing that amazing part of the world.


Thanks Cuda, that's what I was trying to achieve


> action 1974
> A company should sponsor him and pay for his fuel,food or something.


I think that would take a lot of the challenge out of the trip, and lead to a risk of commercialism and exploitation. Half the fun is having done these (10) trips in a 25 year old Suzuki. Paying for food - once I leave home I don't buy any food and end up bringing half of it back after eating fish most of the time.


> Junglefisher
> Sheeeeez that's a huge blubberlip and on a lure? That's the first I've heard of caught on a lure.
> Great report Rick, making bread, cold beer, sounds like I made you soft


So that fish was a blubberlips bream - thanx for the id. Craig, You did make me soft after the 2009 trip we had. I even showed Frankie how to make your bread recipe!


> Barrabundy
> For the area in photo 5 you mentioned how you felt you were being watched and how special a place it was. Did you come across any artwork/artifacts?


Had a good look around and didn't see any artifacts. But, as the aerial shot shows there is a lot of a rock that I never explored. Maybe it has something waiting to be discovered by anyone keen to put the time and effort in.


> snapperz
> That old hand-made pistol was a beauty and I bet old Fred was a character.


Fred was one of those timeless legends you talk about around the fire. Not a bad bone in his body but had a nasty habit of talking your ears off.


> Stippy
> I'm curious to see what a modern Swift will make of the Gulf.


They are too low to the ground and would need to be lifted to avoid the 'hazards'. But an SX4 (4x4 version) would be very nice and if I had the money, would be the car I'd love to take up there.

Once again thanks everyone for the positive feedback. Trying not to duplicate that which was covered in earlier trips is what made 'Gulf 2010' a little tricky to put together. Luckily I was able to find enough new material to fill a few lines...

Cheers, 
Rick


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## snipa

Well done Mord,

Again a great read, have enjoyed all of your reports from the gulf,especially the earlier trips on your own, still taking nothing away from the last two. Appreciate your thoughts about sponsorship, unlimited funding and camera support would definitely take a lot of the personal sense of achievement out of your endeavours.

Was born in Nth Qld and grew up till 15 around Winton where dad was rooshooting. That was extremely hard country on vehicles, even 4x4's and the gulf country would be much harder. So am terribly impressed with your taking a Swift in there and keeping it alive for ten trips. You must really know what your doing in the bush. I have a Vitara but I think they give you a false sense of security and tend to push boundaries further than you should sometimes. Have found the Suzuki's over the years are very hard to kill, the diffs made a Land Rover diff look like paper mache for instance. But you are certainly giving the cars a great rap.

Would like to do similar trips in the future given the grace of God. You certainly inspire me to get myself to a stage where I feel ready to give it a go.

Again thanks for the entertainment and inspiration to expand my knowledge and experience of this type of fishing and apply it too future trips into the Outback.

Hope you can keep up the good work in future and don't ever sell yourself short. You are a champ in your own right.
Cheers John

PS. a book would be good value if you chose to do one.


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## crazyratwoman

yet again, absolutely awesome!!!!!


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## eagle4031

just read your report after finding it accidently when doing a search for lure retievers ---- superb report - well done


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## Barrabundy

eagle4031 said:


> just read your report after finding it accidently when doing a search for lure retievers ---- superb report - well done


You'll find a whole series of past ones also if you haven't already.


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## rodandreel

Go on other trip love the pics and storys


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## 4weightfanatic

Just read the report after it was ressurected and have to agree with all the comments - best read I've had in ages. You got balls Murd -that Bear Grylls has got nothing on you he needs to read this and harden the fruit up. Good onya for keeping the Big Lake a secret people need to find places like that themselves but I must admit getting in there with the flyrod is a nice thought. Top effort I'll have to search out your earlier posts but this time have a drink or two at hand. Pat.


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## SharkNett

Another awesome and rivetting read.
As for the SX4 hatch. Had one fr about a year. The door frame and pillar on the drivers door creates a pretty decent blind spot that I suspect may limit your ability to see and avoid roos and other wildlife. Pull up to a single lane roundabout and oposite side is completely obscured. I also find I need to lean to make sure I get a clear view of padestrian crossings. Otherwise I think the car would handle the trip pretty well.


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