Strange to say that as I start this, I am sitting in a well lit laundry corridor between the ladies and the gent’s amenities not too far from a croc infested river. Here we are able to intercept everyone who comes to wash their feet, shower or otherwise, mainly men who have arrived after dark and after the ferry service has closed for business. Unlike us who made a conscious choice to stay here before proceeding up to the top of the Cape tomorrow morning, they have all arrived by default or poor planning. One party that has just arrived has lost a vehicle not too far down the main road, having rolled it on to its roof. Apparently the driver is shaken with a few abrasions, but aside from finding someone with a Satellite telephone to call for help, there is little anyone can do. It does appear he will live otherwise someone might have headed the hundred and twenty kilometres south for help.
I can see a pale gecko up on the wall above us, and have already been taken in to the men’s loo by Chris to see the bright green frog, nearly as big as my hand, clinging to the door. Who knows what other life will be lured by the lights here on the tiles? Hopefully the generator is not set to cut out on an automatic time switch.
We had an excellent day yesterday, holed up at Elliot Falls in our simple camp. After lunch we explored the falls; the Saucepan and the Elliot Falls on the river of the same name, both absolutely beautiful, and the Twin Falls which we had found the day before. The Saucepan Fall offers a long channel suitable for swimming after plunging over the ledge in to a narrow but shallow canyon, and the Elliot Falls were over an elongated U of rock edge, breathtakingly beautiful but less inviting for swimming. For us, or rather for me, as a non-swimmer, I was happier back in our old haunt; the sandy bottomed pools below the Twin Falls where the water was as warm as the previous day and this time tempted me to stand directly under the deluge, pummeling my back and shoulders in the most amazing natural massage. For one who does not like to have one’s face splashed, this was quite an experience!
The latter part of the day passed in a relaxed manner, and again we sat beside our camp fire, gazing at the stars through the high tree foliage and listening to the cicadas before retiring early to bed. Fortunately we both slept well and were up and fresh to face today’s adventures.
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| Fruit Bat Falls |
We were away from camp soon after nine and made our way slowly back over the lower part of the northern Old Telegraph Route, this time crossing the ford at Scrubby Creek without support, but able to offer advice to another who was waiting and weighing the situation up as we had two days before. Back at the junction, we turned east, traveling two and a half kilometres down another narrow track to the Fruit Bat Falls. These too are on the Elliot River but more accessible to the general public, or rather those public who elect to make this crazy expedition. Although it was still early, there were about ten people enjoying the wonderful pools below yet another set of picturesque falls. These and the picnic area about are only for day use, and it did seem that these folk had all just called in for a morning tea swim. It seemed too soon after breakfast to swim, so we vowed we would call in again on our return south and take in the waters of the Fruit Bat Falls at leisure. We may yet even return to the Elliot Falls camping area on our return, however if it rains in the interim, we would probably elect not to risk the Scrubby Creek crossing.
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| The track into Nolan's Crossing |
Returning to the Northern Bypass Road, we shook and bounced across the corrugations for about thirty kilometres or more, until we guessed that the track off to our right was the access track to Nolan’s Crossing. This ford has quite a reputation, having swallowed about fifty vehicles in the last month or so. There was a chap standing beside a 4WD vehicle at the junction, and we asked him if this was indeed the way in to Nolan’s. He confirmed it was and then told us that he had just been towed out by another enthusiast, having lost his vehicle in the river yesterday. He was currently waiting for a tow truck to come from Bamaga. He was not a happy camper! We were a bit embarrassed to hear that after having said we were going in to watch the show at the crossing.
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| Someone else crossing at Nolan's |
The ten kilometre track in was just a very narrow version of the Bypass Road, corrugated, winding and very slow, through very pretty forest full of grass trees. It was very beautiful; however Chris was too busy watching the road to take too much notice.
Arriving at the OTR, we turned south and found the Nolan River crossing after two kilometres of terrible rutted and rough track. We pulled up in to a small camping area to learn that there was a vehicle about to cross. One vehicle was on the north side as we were and was ready to rescue the Hilux if he came to grief, however after much wading, muttering, and consultation, the four young people in the Hilux decided not to risk it and eventually turned back south to retrace part of their journey before finding another alternative route westward to the Bypass Road. The people on our side drove off and we were left alone to wait for further action.
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| Rejuventating grass trees |
We pulled out our deck chairs, and then lined up ready for any unfolding drama, ate our lunch and read our books. After about an hour, a couple more vehicles turned up on the north side; one made a successful attempt, the other deciding not to and heading back out. The young couple from Mackay who had managed to cross were the first for the day, and looked as if they might be the only ones. They had asked us if we would act as their support vehicle, backing up to the river’s edge ready to take the snatch and grab line if necessary. Fortunately the couple of guys in the Hilux who elected not to make the crossing offered to fulfill the roll. After their crossing, the river looked very different and would have thrown up a different experience to anyone who came along after. They had only just made it, hitting the diff on a rock midway across.
We waited for further action until two o’clock, and then decided that word had obviously got out about Nolan’s to the extent of deterring everyone else and there was little point in staying on. We did briefly consider setting up camp, but any available spots were a little too close to the river and crocodiles meandering up from the Jardine. We also knew that by remaining there, we would be the first port of rescue and towing service should it be required, and while Chris was not dreading the challenging drive back out, he was not too excited about the prospect of having to tow as well. We drove back out, encountering no one, and proceeded north, again on the Bypass Road, rumbling along this wide but hideous road, coming down off the range and finally reaching the ferry crossing here on the Jardine.
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| Our camp near the Jardine River ferry crossing |
The building here on the south side of the Jardine houses a store with minimal wares, postcards and ice creams (to warrant the generator) and a couple of fuel bowsers. Here one must pay for the return ferry crossing, a distance of perhaps sixty or seventy metres, which doubles as a permit to enter this northern area which is administered by the NPA Regional Council. It is charged per vehicle, extra if pulling a trailer. The regular $90 is reduced to $60 for card carrying seniors, much to our delight, and the tariff for this simple but adequate camp is $5 per person per night, in contrast to the $10 minimum that is being charged for almost no amenities or power elsewhere. The girl behind the desk was a sweet pretty Torres Strait islander, larger than life and most welcoming. She and the ferry operator, along with a couple of other hangers on who spent the rest of the afternoon lounging about, all left the area at about 5.30 pm and will return in the morning.
As we prepared dinner, we thought ourselves alone for the night, and so were rather disappointed when these late-comers turned up.
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| The Jardine ferry crossing |
Alas the gas cooker flared up in the middle of our simple dinner, and we had to resort to our single burner cooker purchased at Weipa to complete the heating process. Hopefully we will be able to replace the gas hose tomorrow at Bamaga. Otherwise we will be left to eat one component of our meals at a time, after the heating thereof. I could live with this, Chris not so.
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