Lure of the Kimberley

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This was published 13 years ago

Lure of the Kimberley

Robert Upe cruises a remote coast full of wonders, where the waterfalls are horizontal and the predators are never far away.

Water cooled ... a dousing at King Cascade.

Water cooled ... a dousing at King Cascade.Credit: AFP

The aluminium dinghy lurches and the four of us grab for the gunwale as a shark on the end of our fishing line buckjumps out of the Timor Sea to free itself of the No.8 hook in its gum.

A thrashing shark in a tilting dinghy is a serious thing, so the line is cut before the maddened missile with flashing teeth can land among our bare feet.

The Kimberley sun that will bake us later is rising through the stratocumulus over Port George and the first glints of sunlight are reflected off the aluminium on to a plastic tub between our legs, already brimming with freshly caught cod, threadfin salmon and giant trevally - tonight's hand-to-mouth dinner.

We are on a stretch of Australian coastline as isolated as anywhere you can imagine. Timor-Leste is due north and Broome is hours away over spinifex and desert via light plane. Mangroves hug the shoreline and the river banks, where juicy crabs with bone-crunching claws hide away in mud holes and fearsome saltwater crocodiles leave slide marks where they enter the water to patrol their tropical territory. Kites and eagles hover, looking for prey - perhaps a breast-stroking frog or a sunbaking snake on the hot ochre rocks.

It is so remote that Australian Geographic magazine chose this area when it sponsored a year in the wilderness in 1987 for adventurer couple Mike and Susan Cusack.

A plaque on a bulging trunk of a boab at nearby Camden Harbour speaks of the inhospitableness that greeted white settlers about 150 years before the Cusacks arrived for their time in the sun. Now I have ventured here on a cruise boat with washing machines and a coffee maker.

''In memory of PC Walter Gee. Died September 1865, aged 29. Speared by natives …'' Gee was one of about 70 to perish at Camden Harbour during an ill-fated attempt to colonise the area. Some died from spears but most from their inability to cope with the harshness of land and sea.

I'm pleased, then, to be in the company of our guide, Richard Costin, so I don't go the way of the 70. He is a hunter and gatherer who can live off the land and he is in bushman character, wearing a khaki shirt with cut-off sleeves, shorts and a hat fit for Crocodile Dundee. After exploring the Kimberley for 32 years he knows things that leave my fellow voyagers and I in thrall of this muscular conservationist.

He can coax those juicy crabs into the pots we lay on the mud banks at low tide, he picks yellow bush passionfruit the size of a grapes for us to try and he shows us to billabongs and waterfalls where it is safe to swim.

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He has made two documentaries about the Kimberley and campaigns for the thousands of humpback whales that migrate annually to this coastline from Antarctica. We listen for whale song on his hydrophone at dusk but it's early in the whale season and all is silent.

''You never get lonely wandering around the scrub out here,'' Costin says. ''If you get to a place where no people have been and sit still, the birds will come all around because they have no fear.''

On this morning there's no need for any of his survival skills; we're buoyant after catching the impressive tub-load of colourful and plump fish to take back to the chef on board the 24-metre motorised catamaran Odyssey, anchored and waiting for us in deeper water. Odyssey is one of a number of comfortably decked-out vessels that seasonally ply the Kimberley coast and poke into rivers and gorges and waterfalls, many of them inaccessible by land.

On board our big boat with airconditioning, the cocktail of our nine-day, 1200-kilometre World Expeditions voyage between the Mitchell Plateau and Broome is a $10 Electric Crocodile, a mix of Midori, blue curacao, lemonade, ice and lemon.

But whether you're indulging in a crocodile cocktail on a couch under the sunshade on the upper deck, or not, crocodiles are often on the mind here. We see the biggest on a sandy beach on the Prince Regent River, sunning itself with the self-satisfaction of a creature with a full belly and control of its domain. We glimpse the snout and eyes of another, barely visible above the water's surface, as we putter along an unnamed mangrove-lined estuary in the dinghy and we marvel at them when they appear at the stern of Odyssey, attracted like ill-mannered seagulls looking for a chip.

Their presence at the big boat, along with tawny nurse sharks that cruise by within touching distance with their fins out of the water, is reason enough not to linger on Odyssey's transom when boarding a dinghy or the 20-person landing vessel called Homer.

Good reason, too, not to plunge into the invitingly warm turquoise sea that remains flat for most of our voyage. We stay close to the rugged coastline, sailing into lonely bays, up rivers that press into the outback like veins and between deserted islands fit for Robinson Crusoe. All this in a framework of layered sandstone cliffs and rocks tinged red by iron oxide, the same chemical compound that gives Mars its hue.

On occasions we scramble to overhangs and caves to admire Wandjina rock art that depicts spirit figures with halos. We watch two brahminy kites hover over their cliff-top nest (these birds of prey stay together for life and Costin is pleased to see they have survived a cyclone since the last time he was here).

We trade stares with a handsome dingo who curiously follows our progress from an escarpment, perhaps wondering if he can somehow scrounge scraps from us to supplement his intake of grasshoppers, turtle eggs and frogs.

But it is when we poke into King Cascade waterfall on the Prince Regent River that crocs are most on the mind. This is where 24-year-old American model Ginger Meadows took a fateful dip with a friend on a quiet Sunday in 1987. The girls, stalked and cornered by a crocodile, sought refuge on a ledge at the base of the cascade in waist-deep water as the maneater glared.

Meadows' friend threw a shoe at it to ward off an attack but in a moment of fatal panic Meadows leapt into deeper water to try for shore.

We're now relaxing in the cool waters within metres of the rock ledge where she died but we're safely on board the landing craft Homer. Its strong Yamaha engines nudge us under the roaring water tumbling down the terraced rock face, pock-marked with lush vegetation and tangles of roots that I figure Meadows could not reach. Passengers take turns on the bow getting a freshwater dousing, cooling off in the intense Kimberley heat.

You'd be mad from heatstroke or Electric Crocodile cocktails to swim at King Cascade but I quietly wonder if the first and last crocodile seen here was the one that took Meadows. But as we depart, a few bubbles and ripples emerge near Homer, then two eyes pop out of the water and watch with intent …

If this all sounds like a Boy's Own adventure, it isn't. Cruising the Kimberley on boats like the Odyssey is a soft adventure and you never need to leave the upper deck from where we often take sundowner drinks to watch sunsets, sometimes spectacularly crowned with dark storm clouds.

There are warm showers (shared) on board; soft beds in private cabins with wash basins, mirrors and cupboards; and cooked meals (including those freshly caught mud crabs and fish masterly fashioned into salads, risottos and pies).

But if you venture out, there are daily shore excursions and short walks, cooling dips in crocodile-free water, Aboriginal art to admire, beachcombing and exploration of places such as the appropriately named Butterfly Gorge. Expedition staff not only provide the local knowledge to take us to places off the map, such as Butterfly Gorge, but are always ready to provide a hand in anything remotely precarious, their presence like an outback bellhop.

The great Australian pioneering aviator, Sir Charles Kingsford Smith, made a forced landing on mud flats at the Glenelg River in this area in 1929 and it took rescuers two weeks to find him. Like Smithy, we don't see many others but we do visit a castaway couple, Phil Wray and Marion Smart, who sailed into an inlet here in 1994. They never left, opting for life on the coast in the Buccaneer Archipelago, far from civilisation except for a few oyster farms where backpackers furiously scrub and clean shells.

''I don't like cities - I don't even like Derby [population 4500],'' Wray says as he smokes roll-your-own cigarettes.

Wray and Smart welcome passing yachties, sell the jewellery they make to anyone with cash tucked into their bathers and encourage visitors to take a dip in an unconventional pool in their rainforest garden. The pool is an old concrete water tank full of frogs and plastic seats where you can sit in a metre of water to cool off. Wray and Smart once sheltered here from a cyclone - with a bottle of vodka.

As a parting gesture, high on a bluff as we sail away, they moon us in unison.

When we occasionally cross paths with others it is with passengers who have their pants on from other cruise boats that are following the same ebb and flow of tides as the Odyssey. The whirlpools, swirling waters and currents along the Kimberley coast require meticulous planning and navigation from a wheelhouse filled with charts, radar screens and depth sounders.

The coast here has 12-metre tides - the second-biggest in the world behind the 16-metre tides at the Bay of Fundy in Nova Scotia. The rush of water is at its most intense at Horizontal Waterfalls, which we skimmed over a week earlier in a single-engine Cessna 210 that took us from Broome to Mitchell Plateau to board Odyssey.

Cessnas buzz all over the Kimberley, delivering people and supplies over the vast distances, and it seems many out of Broome are piloted by fly boys - young pilots who earn $50 an hour while in the air but have to supplement their incomes by driving taxis while grounded in Broome because of a lack of work or bad weather.

At Horizontal Waterfalls, the tidal flow moves between two narrow gorges in Talbot Bay with extreme force, like a grade-five rapid on the Colorado River squeezing and churning through the Grand Canyon. We're in lifejackets and holding on with the anticipation of the first dip on a roller-coaster ride as we speed into this watery fury in a rubberised jet boat that is stationed at the falls to provide thrill rides for people arriving on boats like ours and float planes from Broome.

Naturalist David Attenborough has described the Horizontal Waterfalls as ''one of the greatest natural wonders of the world''. Another must be Montgomery Reef, which rises spectacularly from the sea as the tide drops four metres. Water pours off the reef which covers hundreds of square kilometres and, as it seemingly rises around us, it feels like we are being sucked into the centre of the Earth as we explore a central channel on Homer. ''There could be 300 turtles in this channel,'' Costin says. ''We're the first boat here in three months.''

On the final day a few of us are back in the dinghy with Costin for a last try for barramundi. But not long into the fishing trip the motor malfunctions and we're forced to limp back to Odyssey, all the while hoping the engine won't stall and send us inconveniently drifting. Costin is convinced Aboriginal spirits are with us and are responsible for our timely return to the big boat.

''You never know what's around the corner out here,'' he says. ''Every day is an adventure.''

Robert Upe travelled courtesy of World Expeditions and Tourism Western Australia.

FAST FACTS

Getting there

Qantas flies to Broome weekly from Sydney (5hr 15min) and from Melbourne (4hr 35min) for about $615 return including tax. On other days of the week, flights go via Perth. Virgin Blue flies to Broome via Perth.

Cruising there

World Expeditions has a nine-day Kimberley cruise from Broome to Mitchell Plateau or Mitchell Plateau to Broome on the 10-cabin Odyssey. It costs from $7200 a person and includes on-board accommodation, meals, activities such as shore and fishing excursions, helicopter transfer over Mitchell Plateau and waterfall and a return charter flight. Drinks on board are priced reasonably: beer from $4, wine $20-$40. There is a maximum of 20 passengers. Phone 1300 720 000, see worldexpeditions.com.au.

There are many cruise boats working along the Kimberley coast, ranging from the five-star Orion and True North to the camp-on-the-beach Kimberley Explorer. Thirteen of the boats are listed at kimberleycruises.com. The best time to go is April to October.

Staying there

Pinctada vies with the Cable Beach Club for the title of best place to stay in Broome. During cruise season, the Pinctada garden studio costs from $330 a night; see pinctada.com.au. A garden-view room at Cable Beach Club Resort and Spa costs from $348 a night; see cablebeachclub.com.

Five essential experiences in Broome

Watch the sun set at the Cable Beach Club's Sunset Bar and Grill; ride a camel on Cable Beach; watch a movie at Sun Pictures open-air cinema; shop at Courthouse Markets on Saturdays; have mango beer and dinner at Matso's. See broomevisitorcentre.com.au.

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