29 March 2013 - Kakadu Lodge & Caravan Park, Jabiru, Northern Territory

The end of a most satisfying day now settled in for the evening to the sound of rain on the caravan roof  yet again and an absolute din of frogs just outside the door.

The day started with a lengthy Skype call from England, serendipity really, when I happened to go on line to check the day’s weather report.

When we were finally organised, we popped into the centre of Jabiru in the hope of buying the day’s newspaper. As happens every single year we are out and about travelling at Easter, we forget which day of the Christian Holy weekend is forbidden to commerce. It is Friday and every other day is open for business. Now that I have written that, perhaps I shall remember it in future?

We wandered through the shopping centre which has a newsagent, a café, a travel agent and a supermarket all clustered in a most unimposing group of buildings. There were two aboriginal women with several small children trailing along behind, one or two whinging and whining in exactly the same manner I have heard our own grandchildren do. Apart from these folk, the only other action in town was the queue at the BP Service Station where we found a copy of the NT News.

Our destination today was the Nourlangie Region of the Kakadu National Park which is particularly  famous for its excellent aboriginal rock art. We headed south on the Kakadu Highway, that which we will travel tomorrow and the day after as we depart this fascinating place, travelling twenty kilometres or so before we turned east toward Nourlangie. The road passes across lush wetland, hugely flooded and lagoons that have crept to the very edge of the bitumen. We crossed the Burdulba Creek where there was a sign warning us not to stop on the bridge because of the lurking crocodiles. In fact there are so many of these hideous nuisances about right now that many of the walks we had intended to take are closed off. Why the hell they don’t undertake a massive cull, I cannot understand. Actually I do understand only too well. While we have been in the area there have been two illegal such cullings and untold critical letters to the editor of the local NT News and as many supportive, which generally ask the rhetorical question, “and what if you had one near your back yard where your children played?” Since the tree-huggers and Brigitte Bardots of this world won their campaigns for “Destroy Nothing!”, there have been children and tourists gobbled up by crocodiles and all manner of monsters. And I am being short changed in my NT National Park experience because of these pesky killers.

Aboriginal rock art

We were however free to wander up through the Anbangbag rock art gallery and to the Gun-warddehwardde Lookout, which offers impressive views of the Kakadu Escarpment and Nourlangie. The rain held off while we spent about three quarters of an hour enjoying every aspect of the attraction, along with a dozen or so other tourists, and also while we sat down in the car park sharing our lunch with harmless green tree ants. Of all the ants we have encountered here in Australia, it is these I can most tolerate. They do smell rather badly if squashed, however brushing them off or distracting them is better for everyone, including the ants.

Heading back out toward the main road, we turned onto a dirt road of about nine kilometres, patchy with wide puddles and drove to the car park for the Gubara Pools Walk.  The walking track in the summer would be easy for the entire three kilometres, however after the rain over the past few days, we spent some time making  our way around the flooded sections of the track to minimise the chance of getting our good walking shoes wet. The open ground between the trees were a mass of wild flowers, and with the lush green of the other growth and the back drop of the iron red rock escarpment, it was indeed a very beautiful scene. The walk information promised “ a six kilometre return walk past sandstone cliffs to shady monsoon pools. A pleasant place to spend the heat of the day.” Today the skies were heavily overcast and thus the walk was very pleasant. But then the skies opened up and down came torrential rain. Fortunately we were both wearing peak caps which helped keep the rain from our glasses but our clothes were soon quite sodden. 

The track before the deluge

We finally arrived at the edge of the forest and the escarpment, the trees and palms enveloping us as if in a jungle, the wet fronds and leaves draping themselves all around us. In the deep shade I started to feel cold and was quite horrified to see the creek rushing down beside us, a great flood torrent widening in front of our eyes and flattening foliage as it came. We were told by returning walkers that the pools were just up around the corner, and soon we came to a wider part of the creek where a couple of swimmers were risking their lives in the most outrageous manner. We had noted the signs warning of the fresh water crocodiles who could be aggressive if bothered. I have no doubt that they do indeed inhabit these waters but today they would not have been lurking in the fierce water of the creek, but tucked away under some bank.  I had brought my togs along, keen to swim in the pools, however was not at all tempted today. And it was not the “freshies” that were the concern.

It was evident that the rain was not going to stop any time soon and we wondered about the track back. Our concern was well founded; the track was by now 99% underwater and we waded through the rising waters, this time not bothering to find a drier route around the water holes. By the time we arrived at the car park, we were both drenched. There was nothing to do but come on back to camp.

Despite the rain, we had the most wonderful day and I for one, was glad that we had stayed on here at Jabiru. Tomorrow we will not travel far, but will enter a different section of the park.  I look forward to it.