Bushtucker, Crocodiles and the man from Humpty Doo

“OK lets party, those crocs are gettin hungry”, he said nothing else just pointed the way down a rough path and broke into a wide grin beneath his Akubra. Our guide was not what I had expected. I had hoped he would turn out to be some kind of Crocodile-Dundee clone complete with a croc-tooth hat, the ability to live of the land and hypnotize Buffalo. Mr Michael Saywer, our guide, cook and entertainment for the next five days was a rayban-sporting smooth-operator who, took life in his stride. This guy was no Ocker from the Outback but a character who was just as comfortable debating topics from theories of evolution to bush-survival techniques. He could recite the latin name for any plant you cared to point out and impart what were the trendiest nite spots in Darwin.

Stepping out of the civilised atmosphere of the air-conditioned jeep was like opening the door to a blast furnace. The temperature was nudging at the early forties and it had only taken a few minutes in the stifling humidity of noon to feel as though we had spent the morning stoking the boilers of the QE2. Dutifully we trotted down the track covered in brick-red dust, scrambling over rocks and busily pushing the branches of gum trees to one side when appeared a tranquil plunge pool laden with emerald-coloured water. At the far end it was fed by a gargling-torrent of white-water tumbling from a breach in the cliff-face, the whole scene could have been at home in a movie-moguls Hollywood garden but this was no film set.

In the noon day heat the need to cool off overcome any apprehension of coming face-to-face with an overgrown handbag with teeth, and we dived in.

But after all that was what we had signed up for, a five day safari exploring Kakadu national park, the jewel-in-the-crown of the Northern Territory's Tropical top end, 20,000sq km - equivalent in size to Wales, home to a diverse and fragile eco-system of rivers, billabongs, flood-plains, monsoon forest, woodlands, escarpment country and coastal mud flats. At night we would be sleeping under canvass in traditional bushmans swags, drinking billy-tea and dining under a canopy of a million stars. By day bushwalking to discover and explore towering sandstone gorges, secluded plunge pools gouged out by the force of falling-water that runs furiously during the monsoon season and sharing the invigorating lakes with the odd crocodile that had made it its home. OK, so swimming with crocs will never be the same as taking a dip with Dolphins, its unlikely they'll ever retrieve a stick and if you try and stroke them you may never play the accordion again but sharing their habitat isn't as hazardous to achieving old age as first perceived. Like a Field Marshall talking about a his most respected foe Mick gave us the run down on these reptiles that have remained unchanged since they shared the park with dinosaurs.

“Crocodiles can be roughly divided up into two categories, he narrated over an alfresco lunch eaten in the shade of a friendly gum tree. “Those that eat you, and those that don't.” Freshwater crocs or freshies are the friendlier of the two and wont attack unless they're cornered or threatened, but you'd better still leave them alone, especially when they're laying their eggs during August and September.“Saltwater Crocs are the ones to avoid , Salties don't bite - they just eat you.”Crocodile culture is an inherent part of Kakadus heritage. It was here that the Australian outback scenes from Crocodile Dundee were filmed among the lifeless looking trees of Ubirr and the flood-plain of Yellow waters . And so much part of the tourist infrastructure that the largest hotel in the park has been constructed in the shape of a giant crocodile complete with legs and a tail which scores high on the tack-o-rama scale. But during the dry season by far the most romantic way to live in the park is under canvass. Engaging 4wd drive we turned off the main Kakadu highway and headed towards the first nights camp at Gunlom falls some twenty kilometres down a dirt track. Our transport was a landcruiser on steroids that comfortably seated all tenof us. Looking more like a troop carrier it ate up up the rough corrugations with consummate ease, kicking up a storm of brick coloured dust in its wake that hid the trailer carrying all our provisions.Pitching the tents in a secluded corner of the camp site was an elementary affair but the late afternoon heat still made any exertion a sticky episode, not that much of an excuse was needed to refresh in the huge pool of Gunlom falls, lazily swimming to the face to perch on a rock at the foot of the cliff face. Here, soaking up the comfortable rays of the sunset we discussed the pros and cons of the need to sign the we-wont-sue-if-we-get-eaten-by-crocs disclaimer and who would we sue in due course, the tour operator, the guide or the crocodile.Returning to camp Mick had dinner under well under way and a fire was busy crackling away fuelled by the wood we had collected earlier that day. On the grill, steaming invitingly from within their foil wrapping, were fresh Barramundi fish, a speciality of the Northern Territory. Even with dusk long past the temperature was still well in the twenties and the table was set beneath a sky still tinted with sun set, sitting nibbling on some hors dourves I tried to fathom out why is it that food tastes so much better eaten in the open air? When dinner was through we sat around the darkened corners of the table drinking coffee from tin mugs, freshly poured from a soot-black vessel , that when full, took two of us to lift. The heat of the tropics had now drained all energy from the group and it was all we could do to watch the fire fade to a blushing glow. Outside this ring of light dry leaves crunched under foot and we were made aware that the nocturnal animals of the bush were intently watching us safe from their cloak of darkness. Wallabies, dingoes, Goannas, frilled neck lizards and wild pigs would overrun the camp after the embers died, foraging for any easy pickings that we may overlook. Gunlom is deep in the heart of what the Aborigines call Sickness Country .Here they believe if Boolo is awoken the land will fall sick. Coincidence or not that the area was once a productive uranium mine. Each part of Kakadu has its own special look. The Sickness country is a expanse of rolling hills covered with apparitional gum trees that appear to float like ghosts in blonde savanna grass awaiting the life giving rains of the wet season. Heading for Koolpin Gorge we drove deep into the hills with Salmon gums skirting the rough track, the lack of water turning them Salmon-pink with dehydration. These are the aborigines weather barometers, as they soak up moisture of the pre-monsoon season they fade to gray and hale the pending arrival of the rains. Mick led the way through the bush into the gorge like Moses leading his people into the promised land where gaping mouths and silence was the initial reflex action as we stared at a tiered complex of splash pools. In the clear water of the shallow fringes Silver Barramundi, archer and striped grouper fish were silhouetted against the sandy bottom while the encircling sandstone cliffs and puffy clouds were peacefully reflected in the mirrored surface.“Any crocs here?” I asked, trying to sound matter-of-factly.“Yeah. There's one that lives around here and last year I came face-to-face with a two-and- half-metre freshie while I was snorkelling in the next pool... scared the crap out of each other".“Is it Safe to swim in then?” Someone else asked, while intently spying for the tell-tale snout of a submerged Croc.“Yeah, no worries.” The statement was just too closely associated with a large Cheshire-cat grin. Koolpin gorge is not one continuous river but a serious of pools that rise for several hundred feet, water finding its way from one-to-another via small creeks and waterfalls. After bush walking to the head of the gorge lunch was called and the rest of the afternoon spent indulging in the glory of sandy banks, swimming in the pools to shrug off the heat-spawned lethargy and snoozing under the friendly gum trees. A graphic combination that gave these oasis's their 10/10 score on the Garden-of-Eden front. The following days excursion was Barramundi Gorge. Accessed after a short bush-walk through a monsoon rainforest that would normally be several feet underwater during the wet season. Large leafy Pandanus trees had made the river bed their home along with Paperbark trees that has its skin hanging off like a bad case of blistering sunburn. Mick explained that the Aborigines use the flaky bark to make waterproof materials for their huts. A lesson in bush tucker ensued as the man from Humpty Doo grabbed handfuls of Arcacia pods and explained how the Aborigines use them for bush soap, then pointing out the bush passion fruit.“Eat about five of these and you'll be running for the bathroom like your life depended on it - and probably wouldn't make it. They contain the worlds strongest laxative. Eat the leaves of this he plucked a leaf from a non-descript looking tree. And you'll never need the bathroom again - Iron wood tree - full of cyanide.”The magnificent and diverse birdlife of the Kakadu was made evident in the afternoon as we cruised the yellow waters of the flood-plains. A setting sun set the scene as the fireball grew ever closer to its reflection in the still water and the shadows of the trees tinged the creek edges an even darker hue.Yellow water is the Ornithological Heathrow of Kakadu and sunset its rush hour. From the boat we viewed a multitude of take off and landings some graceful others not such but all silhouetted against a spectacular sunset : Long-legged Jabirus with their clumsy flight with their stick like legs dangling beneath them. The spectacular shape of a Pelican unmistakably outlined against the dying-light in its slow laboured, flight, white bellied sea eagles circled looking for high-tea. On the dry plains wild horses and wallabies grazed while beneath the water Saltwater crocodiles surfaced in a place that had been their home since pre-historic times.The water falls of Twin and Jim Jim falls were to be the highlight of the safari. The 60km dirt track access road keeping them safe from day-trippers and relatively deserted. As if on sentry duty 4m high termite mounds stood at the road side and gradually the towering rock faces of the Escarpment country came into view.Jim Jim is discovered only after a miles strenuous work out, scrambling over large rocks to encounter a huge crescent-mooned rock formation of carefullystacked sandstone. The vertical cliffs a mixture of black and sand, punctured only by the occasional clump of gum trees creating an impossible garden as their roots seek out the cracks in the two-hundred metres high faces. The onyx water of the splash-pool the most relaxing antidote from the relentless heat and humidity. In the wet this area would be unreachable, the splash pool hidden beneath a maelstrom of furious whitewater and clouds of spray obliterating the scene, the occasional echo of birdsong we could here now would be drowned out for months from the thunderous-roar of the falls in the wet. The grand finale was Twin falls, an Eden in the jungle an adventure to discover. Before we could even gain access to a bumpy track that would lead to the gorge entrance there was the precarious task of crossing a creek that was nearly 4 feet deep. Getting the 4wd stuck mid-stream may mean getting out and pushing, not a pleasant thought given that Salties were known to inhabit this part of the riverFinally abandoning the jeep at the foot of an escarpment a sign warned of possible dangers from Saltwater Crocs , maybe this time we would strike reptile The signs looked even more promising as we hiked past a huge crocodile-net devised to stop any salties entering the gorge system. The sheer sides of the canyon ensured any further progress up the gorge was via the water. For the swim we were issued floats that resembled a surf board sawn in half. “What do we do with these?” Someone quipped.“They’re not for swimming. They're for defense.” Mick replied pausing for effect while a dozen gullible faces looked on. “If you're attacked the best form of defense is to wedge the float in its open mouth and pull out its teeth one-by-one.”With One eye kept out for scaly friends we floated on the boards like commandos on a dawn raid. Skirting the occasional rock island progress was unhurried and eerily silent as though wandering through consecrated ground,. Slowly the full magnificence of Twin falls fell upon us as we came upon a sandy cove beheld a magnificent cliff face where millions of years of wet seasons had eroded steps into the cliff giving the semblance of an Aztec temple. The water ,continually shattering against the rock stairway, was exploding into a fine mist that was speared by sunrays creating spectral rainbows that hovered above the plunge-pool . Exploration of the area revealed no crocodiles but plenty of humans basking on the rocks surrounding the plunge lake. Heading back I couldn't help feeling a little cheated that I had not come face-to-face with a snout-full-of-teeth and had no tales to tell of swimming with crocs that after a few drinks may migrate into a tale of how I wrestled myself a new pair of shoes.During the five hour drive back to Darwin we passed our guides home turf, the township of Humpty Doo. He pointed out that the local entertainment venues were restricted to a choice between the Hard Croc Cafe and the Humpty Doo hotel where the annual Darwin Stubby drinking competition is the cultural highlight of the year. The Down under version of our own Yard of Ale the event involves contestants polishing off two litres of beer in one swig, the record of 93 seconds currently held by a Kiwi woman.As we pasted a large icon of a plastic crocodile on a pole I remarked that that was the closest we had probably get to one and how I might have to resign any ideas I might have of becoming the next Crocodile-Dundee and probably have to return my Scout adventure badge. When Mick told me that three Freshies live permanently at twin falls. “I didn't see any on the banks.” Without turning his gaze from the road he simply replied

“They must have been in the water then.”

Travel Fax

Odyssey Safaris offer 5 day guided trips into Kakadu starting at $875
( Tel 00 61 8 8948 0091, Fax 00 61 8 8948 0646,
email: odyssey@ozemail.com.au.

Darwin is a major international airport just 4 hours from Singapore and Sydney and 17 hours flying time from the UK. British Airways, Quantas and Singapore air fly into Darwin with prices starting from £750.

Kevin Wolff flew courtesy of Air New Zealand (0181 777 8888) to Sydney and then Ansett Airlines (0171 566 7898) to Darwin

More Info.

Northern Territories Tourist Commission ( tel 0181 944 2992 fax 0181 944 2993)

Web site

http://www.world.net/Travel/Australia/NT-info/NTTC/

When to go?

The Tropical wet end of the Northern Territory varies very little in temperature throughout the year with the winter months of June, July & August being the most pleasant with day time temperatures rarely dropping below the 30s. Jan to April is Monsoon time and when the Top End is at its most spectacular with raging waterfalls and floods that make most of the parks inaccessible by anything but air.