15 April 2013 - West Kimberley Lodge, Derby, Western Australia

We decided today not to include this settlement on any list of possible future residences. Now this comment may astound some people, especially any family members who may think we are looking for a future home far away from them. Let me assure them that this is simply a silly game we play in most places we pass through. I guess that if we were totally free of children, parents and grandchildren, it might be a different story, however the reality is that heartstrings are far more powerful than geographical attractions.

Derby is a township of about 5,000 folk and is truly a strange place to settle. The promotional literature states that the town “ is located on an ancient sand dune, dotted with Boab trees, surrounded by intriguing mud flats – the legacy of its location adjacent to the mighty Fitzoy River – and having its huge tidal range”. Elsewhere we have seen the town described more as a hell hole on mosquito plagued mudflats, and quite frankly, it is all of those.

The tides are indeed phenomenal  with a peak differential between low and high tide reaching 11.8 metres.On the western edge of the King Sound, north of the outlet of the Fitzroy River and having the highest tide in Australia and one of those in the world, it is indeed surrounded by huge expanses of mudflats. As such it is an ideal habitat for mosquitoes all of whom have been most welcoming to us fair skinned travellers. I should note that over the past four or so nights, we have not had the invasion of insects encountered a week ago. But we still have not adopted the normal behaviour of travellers in caravan parks; sitting outside under the caravan awnings reading, chatting or drinking en plein air; we encapsulate ourselves within the screened confines of our caravan.

Derby was first established by Europeans back in 1883 but did not enjoy the onslaught of the masses until 1886 when thousands of prospectors arrived to take advantage of the short lived gold rush at Halls Creek.  They started their land journey by tramping across the mud from ship to shore. Looking at those mudflats today, I would have been tempted to stay on board the ship and forgo the gold.

It was the first town to be settled in the Kimberley and has functioned over the intervening years as a service years for pastoral, mining and tourism industries and Aboriginal communities. The post office was opened in 1889, the courthouse ready for business bu 1890 and the jetty, such as it then was, extended in 1893. By 1911 the population of Derby was recorded at 228 however you can be assured that only the Europeans were counted.

In 1937 a leper hospital was opened at Bungarun, an extension to the work that a team of Catholic nuns had already started in the area. This operated until 1986.

During the war years 1939 – 1945, Derby played its part in the Pacific theatre although not quite in the same way Darwin did.

In 1964 a new concrete and steel jetty was brought into use. The new structure was built at a cost of one million pounds when the population of the town stood at 2,760. In 1973 the last State Ship brought passengers to Derby and ten years later, the port of Derby closed after shoals reduced the depth of water in critical areas and caused shipping problems. But then, in 1997, the wharf re-opened as an export facility.

Pastoralists in the west Kimberley had initially concentrated on growing wool on pastoral leases adjacent to the Fitzroy, May and Lennard Rivers. By 1887 some were also grazing beef cattle. They needed a yard near the jetty to export fat cattle. The early shipments went to Singapore on steamers. After the Freemantle Harbour works, near Perth, were completed in 1897 many shipments went south to feed the population attracted by the gold rush. By the time the wharf closed in 1983 most cattle were still being shipped south for domestic consumption but there was a growth in exports to the United States of America and Europe. 

In the early decades of the twentieth century around 16,000 head of stock  and more than 4,000 bales of wool were usually sent away each season. In the 1964/65 season, 12,690 head of cattle were exported, 114 vessels docked and cargoes included imports of bulk oil and exports of hay, meat, wool, skins, mother-of-pearl shell, rice and bulk ore as well were handled. By 1983, the live cattle exports had ceased, taken over by services at Broome, however the port was reopened in 1997 for the export of lead and zinc.

It is interesting to note rice as being an export. When we had travelled through from Fitzroy Crossing yesterday, we had passed a turnoff to Camballin which boasted a caravan park. “Why”, we asked ourselves but then decided that it was probably on the banks of the Fitzroy River and an attractive spot for mosquito tolerant fishermen. We have since learned that Camballin, seventy kilometres south of the Derby junction, was the centre of rice growing operations in the 1950s. The small settlement still exists but there is no fuel available nor any rice grown; another failed rice project such as the wonderfully named Humpty Doo back toward Darwin.

This morning our first port of call was not across the mudflats but back out to the edge of the town to book the vehicle in for it’s regular ten thousand kilometre service. Mark, of the multi named Derby 4x4 & Marine or Derby Auto Motive was happy to oblige and we will drop the landcuiser in early tomorrow morning. This will all be in keeping with our warranty which I have avoided making mention of since expressing disappointment or fury regarding the debacle in Sydney.

If you have been following this great saga, you will know that National Warranty Service turned down our claim for the repair to our fuel pump, an item that was clearly covered under the written provisions of the policy. They stalled and stalled and then finally declined by telephone. We gave the go ahead to the garage to make the repair because we could not wait around in Sydney for any more weeks and paid the required cost, just short of $2,000. We requested that the warranty company email us copies of all correspondence and documentation concerning the drama, along with written reasons for the refusal.There was a deafening silence from the company despite our polite reminders over the intervening weeks and months. Finally we contacted the Financial Ombudsman Service.

Today we received a response from the warranty company rather than the Ombudsman who had obviously put a flea in the ear of the warranty company. National Warranty Companmy have today offered us half the amount we are entitled to. Chris took the call early this morning and politely told them that this would not be acceptable but to put it in writing. He also told them that they would have to do better than that or the matter would be pursued beyond the current channels. There has been no email confirmation since that call. It is a case of watch this space, as it has been since the middle of February.

This morning we then called into the Information Centre here in Derby and were attended to by a young woman who should be given an award for promotional effort. The Information Centres in these rather remote centres such as that in Halls Creek, Fitzroy Crossing and here at Derby are very modern and informative. Here we learned that while this western end of the Gibb River Road is now open, the parks I was keen for us to visit, the Windjana Gorge National Park and the King Leopald Ranges Coservation Park, are still closed to the public. This is most disappointing given that Derby is “Gateway to the Gorges” and the sealed 125 kilometres of the Gibb River Road makes them generally accessible to the less intrepid.

The second disappointment, although expected, was confirmation that flights over the Horizontal Falls were still not available out of Derby. I have been set on seeing these and was well aware that this would be an extravagant outlay of as much as $1,000. We had more recently heard about a “wonderful” trip out of Broome, one of the few currently available which would cost about $750 each. Chris was not at all excited about this and even yesterday when I had suggested I do the trip alone, he was not entirely dismissive.

However, this morning we were quickly and painlessly talked into doing a full day tour with the same company but much more comprehensive for  just $100 more. We are booked, have paid and so there is no going back and there has not been too much hand wringing since the Enter button was pushed on the EFTPOS machine. We are booked for next Monday out of Broome so will have to be there to avail ourselves.

Before we could be coerced to signing up to any more such extravagances, we made our way to the Derby Wharfinger House Museum, armed with the key from the Information Centre. This is housed in the  wharf-keepers residence, an old colonial style house, dingy and shabby but full of treasures and records that kept us for about an hour.

The wharf at Derby at low tide

From there we made our way across the causeway to what appears to be a natural mangrove covered island, which is in turn the base of the wharf. The tide was out and mud stretched out as far as the eye could see; the wharf standing absurdly high above the low tide level. Out in a narrow tidal channel, a barge from an outlying island waited for conditions to off-load mining gear. We walked the length of the wharf and saw a variety of fish flailing about in the shallow water, including small sharks. We chatted with a retired aged man repainting the bollards, employed by the Shire and greatly valued because he was willing to work, another indictment against the long resident locals.

On the way back to camp, we called into the Woolworth supermarket to see if fresher vegetables had arrived since yesterday and were duly rewarded. The opening of the liquor outlet co-incided with our visit so we decided we would give in to our irregular indulgence and found ourselves in the midst of a desperate consumer rush. The aborigines who we let in front of us because we were humming and hah-ing over our modest purchase, were buying up large, forking out about $100 and more. There were two burly security guards at the door and when we passed a remark to the shop assistant, also burly, he told us that this was quite necessary and often police presence was also required. Low alcohol only could be sold during certain hours of a couple of days, and evidence of having transport for any sale after 5 pm. It is considered too dangerous to allow a consumer to stagger along the roadside on his or her way home during dusk or later. After our encounter with the drunken aboriginal woman in Fitzroy Crossing, we could well understand where the logic of such rules arose.

The afternoon was spent giving in to the 37 degree heat, a nap with the air conditioning on, however refreshed, we returned to the wharf to see how matters appeared at full tide. A very different scene.