Deluge

As the day wore on, clouds began to gather on the horizon. Andy started to look worried, and began collecting us from the far corners of the mesa and shepherding us down to ground level.

What was wrong? It was only rain.

What we hadn't taken into account was the sheer volume of precipitation that can fall in these parts. We had heard stories of people being cut off by the start of the Wet, but it didn't seem real up here on this enormous rock in the sunshine.

One particular guy had been camping down in the woods one year, and when the rain started to fall he had been flooded out of his tent so he carried his stuff up to the nearby toilet block. After a while, the building flooded, so he climbed onto the roof. The water continued to rise until it reached him there, too, so he started to climb up the corrugated iron water tower on the roof. When the rescue helicopter finally winched him off, he had cut a hole in the water tank and was sitting inside, watching the level come still higher.

Andy wasn't kidding us around; he was seriously worried that one or more of the rivers that we had forded on the way in might now be too deep for the bus to get out, and he practically force-marched us back to the vehicle and set off at full speed.

The rivers that we had crossed had just been trickles across the road, but now after just a few hours, and before the rain had really started, we had over a foot of water across the road.

'Are there crocodiles?' asked the kid, as the bus sploshed slowly across. 'I'm not wading', said Andy.

Camping Deluxe

The campsite was a permanent fixture, an attempt to prevent the sort of problems that had befallen the chap in the water tank. On the one hand, we weren't exactly communing with nature (although the bird noises during the night were wondrous), but on the other, our large tents came with camp beds, mosquito netting, a cooking tent, a swimming pool and a bar, so we weren't complaining.

Yellow Water Billabong Cruise

The boat cruise next day was probably the highlight of the trip, and we had (inadvertently, of course) timed our arrival to perfection. With the Wet just starting, the billabong was just starting to flood its banks and, where the water had swept over the surrounding floodplains, life was erupting with exuberance.

Spectacular white egrets, flashing azure kingfishers, red-winged parrots and all manner of wildfowl filled the lush floodplains or hid in crevices amongst the mangroves.

In the topmost branches of the trees, sea-eagles and storks had already kicked their fledglings out of their nests. In only a very short time, not only the river banks and the undergrowth, but even the treetops themselves would be under water. Within days, the boat dock that we had used to embark would be completely inundated and the operator would have to move to another site.

The boat itself was basically a metal raft built on two flat pontoons, each with an enormous outboard engine hanging off the back. Our guide chugged us around into the reeds and under overhanging trees, pointing out different birds and plants, all the while exhorting us not to hang any limbs over the water, just in case. She explained that in the Dry, which is the colder season, crocs tend to sun themselves on the banks, but here in the Wet they are happier to stay cool in the water and are more than capable of jumping aboard if they think that they can get an arm.

While we all marvelled at the wonders of nature about us (and pondered the possible fate of the two men out fishing in a little tin boat) we were all hoping for a glimpse of the real king of the waterways.

Then suddenly a small voice cried 'Crocodile!' and everybody ran to what happened to be Bronwyn's side of the boat, which tipped alarmingly and left her staring at close range at eight feet of heavily armoured reptile.

From then on, we saw them everywhere. Rooting around in the mangrove palms, rising mysteriously to the surface around us and then cruising effortlessly out of our way, only sinking out of sight when our wake got too annoying.

Eventually, even our precocious young fellow traveller had seen enough and we returned to the dock, to our bus and finally to our shack in Darwin. It was by now raining heavily, so we caught a taxi for the short ride into town.

After a refreshing beer or two, there was only one public building left that we hadn't visited, so we ducked into the airconditioned cinema and watched a film.

The Virtual Reinhard Archive

Pseudemys

05.06.08 Front Page

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