Burning Desire For FIRE

I woke up incredibly anxious to get home. The reason was that when we came back into internet range yesterday afternoon, I had 10 missed calls from Tom32 and Georgia, and there was this message in the family group chat from Tom32:

“Hey guys, So Jeff is on his last legs. He’s been bleeding from the nose overnight and his breathing has gotten worse. We’ve decided to hold off taking him to the vet until Monday, to either see if he makes a recovery or to give a chance for people to say goodbye. He’s still in his Jeff state, just slower.”

When I read that, I burst into tears on the bus. I couldn’t believe that it was happening AGAIN. It was a Friday. I’d be home on Sunday evening. I messaged Georgia and got more information. Jeff wasn’t in a good way.

As luck would have it, one of the people I’d been hanging around with on the tour (the guy with thongs on his feet) was a vet, so I had a quick consult with him. We agreed that we should leave it until I got home, as it was only 2 days.

In the morning, I asked Georgia to get my dressing gown for Jeff to lie on. It turned out to re-energise him. As soon as he smelled it, he jumped up and went on a full patrol through the house, looking for me. Georgia said, “Clearly, he thinks that life’s not worth living without you!”

I just wanted to get home to my little man. But I had a day of Darwin to get through first.

I decided that I’d go to the art gallery. After trying to walk for half an hour in 40C heat, I gave up and waited for the bus. I found that they’re both air-conditioned and free!

“Palipalintia 2024 – This painting depicts Palipalintja, a swamp and rockhole site west of Jupiter Well. During Ancestral times, a large group of Tingari men
camped here before continuing their travels east, passing through Wala Wala, Kiwirrkura and then north-east to Tarkul and Lake Mackay.
The lines in this painting depict the sandhillsin the area in which the Tingari men travelled. The Tingari song-cycle is a closely guarded secret, but in general the Tingari are a group of Ancestral Beings who travelled over vast stretches of the Country, performing rituals andcreating and shaping particular sites.”

“The golden gilded framing of ‘An Australian Landscape’ by Shannon Brett satirically romanticises a brutal honesty about race relations in this country. This photograph captures an ambiguous asphalt roadside defaced with racist taunts and symbols. Rather than discussing the idyllic countryside in the background, this work captures the violence in the Australian psyche which Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander people encounter daily. “

Crocodile trap!

While waiting for the bus back to the hotel, I was chatting to a woman who was waiting for an Uber. She and her husband were travelling with a woman I’d seen earlier, who was in a wheelchair with her right leg stuck straight out.

They were 3 days into their trip when she’d fallen on a walk and wrenched her knee really badly. She’ll need surgery when she gets back home. It brought home why the guides kept insisting on safety when we were leaping all over places like Kings Canyon and Ubirr.

Accidents really do happen.

At around 5:30 PM, we made our way to the harbour cruise. I was put on the ‘singles table’ at the back of the boat, which turned out to be a pretty good place to take photos from.

Here’s how the sunset progressed:

Once the sun disappeared, I thought the show was over…

It is something that I’m glad I’ve done. It was spectacular.

The next day I was at the airport way earlier than I needed to be. I wasn’t going to miss my flight home! I had a little boy who was waiting for his Mum.

However I wasn’t too happy to see the difference in temperatures from Darwin to Melbourne. I had to pull apart all of my packing in my carry-on to unearth a woolly jumper and a scarf for when I landed.

Funny thing, I slept right through the whole flight from Darwin to Melbourne. In my head, it’s only like an hour long!

I walked through the door to see two little dogs (and a daughter) who were incredible glad to see me.

Scout wouldn’t stop barking for 10 minutes, while Jeffrey was jumping up on me and racing around, wagging his tail. His breathing was heavier than usual, though.

I said to Georgia, “I believe you. The true test will come tomorrow, when his little doggie brain goes back to life being normal again.”

Though Georgia showed me where Jeff had been sleeping. The blood stains were pretty bad. I don’t blame Tom32 and Georgia for being upset. However, I put a sheet over the top of my bed to protect my quilt and we snuggled in for the night.

I’m so happy that Jeffrey is here for me to come home to. It would have been very hard to bear a repeat of what happened with Poppy on my last holiday.

He’s a good boy.

Dad Joke of the Day:

It’s funny how when you plan a holiday, it’s always swimming tantalisingly in the future. When you finally take it, it’s over in the blink of an eye.

So it is with this one. This is our last full day.

We stopped for morning tea at a roadhouse, where we saw some interesting number plates.

We also saw some pig hunters stocking up.

I loved the dogs! Zoom in on the cage on the truck. They were so excited to be off.

Quite. few of the roadhouses have pet crocodiles. Apparently, it’s a Territorian’s right to own a crocodile. You need a permit, so for $90 you can buy a crocodile and keep it as a pet. If you live in a city, you can only keep it until it reaches 1 metre in length, but out in the countryside you can keep it forever.

When we were back on the bus, I thought I’d check that app I was experimenting with. Polarsteps. It tracks everywhere you go.

Look at this trip! I’ve certainly covered some ground.

Look! Another fire.

And as we drove past, I just managed to catch the Whistling Kites hunting for mice.

We passed by a lot of mango farms. Each mango is picked by hand. The people who do it are a mix of backpackers looking to extend their visas by doing farm work, and men from the Pacific Islands.

We drove into Litchfield National Park. The waterfalls never stop flowing here. They’re all spring-fed, unlike the ones at Kakadu.

After lunch, we headed for Wangi Falls, where we could swim if we wanted to. When someone asked about crocodiles, Pascal said that the rangers come out after the Wet season and only open the waterfalls after 21 straight days of ‘no crocodile’ sightings. Then they check them weekly.

Ah, it should be alright! What’s the worst that could happen, right?

So beautiful.

It was absolutely lovely. There were lots of people there but it didn’t sound like it at all. Everyone was so relaxed and happy. People were swimming or walking on the boardwalk.

The last time I wore my bathers was when I did the Polar Plunge in Antarctica. I read the itinerary before I left so I knew there was a possible swim on offer. I packed my bathers, so this was the time to use them.

Dammit. When am I ever going to be here again? I was going to do it!

It was MAGNIFICENT. The water was 29C. It was a natural hot spring.

I stayed in there for ages. At first, I thought I couldn’t touch the bottom, but halfway along towards the cliffs there was a sandbank. Normal-sized people could stand there comfortably. By balancing on my toes like a ballerina, I was able to stay there and have a lovely chat with a couple who are travelling around Australia in a caravan for a year.

This is an experience I’ll remember. The surroundings were so beautiful, the water was the perfect temperature and I revelled in it.

We watched a guy climb high up the cliffs, then when he looked down he seemed to have cold feet. He stayed looking at the water below for ages.

“The thing is,” said my new friend the caravanner, “I was talking to a paramedic here. People get injured at these sites and they don’t stop to consider how long they’re going to have to lie there and wait for pain relief.”

“Oh my god!” I said. “I’ve never thought of that.”

“Yeah, it’s not like there’s a doctor’s surgery and a chemist just up the road, is it?” he said. “They sometimes have to wait for hours for an ambulance or helicopter to make it in.”

As we were talking, the guy gathered his courage and jumped. No paramedics were needed.

One thing we were warned about was the monitor lizard that lives in the park.

“Don’t leave food in your bag or he’ll rip it apart looking for it,” Pascal said.

When I finished my swim, people from the bus had moved my bag away from him, but I got back in time to see his head in one of my boots.

Our next stop was Florence Falls, which was very pretty.

Our next stop was the termite mounds.

These are called magnetic termites, as they angle their mounds to true north.

The other type is the Cathedral termites. One-third of the mound is above ground.

Termites carry their eggs on their heads, like cockroaches. Soldiers defend the mound from predators like birds, goannas and even other termites.

Queens live for around 50 – 70 years. As long as she’s alive, the mound lives. When the queen dies, the other termites die off and then the mound is up for grabs.

And suddenly we were driving into Darwin and the Kakadu tour was over. Sadly, I left my broad-brimmed hat on the bus, which annoyed me no end when I realised. Dinner wasn’t included, so after 2 weeks of gourmet meals, I wandered down to Coles and bought a salad and some wine.

Back to reality!

Tomorrow I have a free day in Darwin before our sunset Darwin Harbour cruise.

Dad Joke of the Day:

I stood exactly where Crocodile Dundee was! The view was spectacular.

Have a look at the clip to get a feel for the place. It’s only a minute long.

But I’m getting ahead of myself.

Zoom in on the information board and you can see the walk that we did to see the art. Some people elected to go back to the bus before we did the big climb to the top, but we all did the first circle.

Pascal led the way. It was quite a walk to get to the first paintings, but it was pretty much all on flat, easy ground like this.

I found this fascinating. Except for Dreamtime paintings which can never be touched, the people used rock art to spread information. They painted over paintings when the information needed updating.

Look at the man’s swollen joints. Uranium is mined from here. The art is basically telling anyone who follows not to stay here for too long because they’ll get sick. They wouldn’t have known what caused it, but they certainly knew that it kept on happening.

Here is another warning.

Pascal told us many stories associated with the paintings, but I feel that they’re not my stories to tell. You’ll have to come here to hear them for yourselves!

This was a very old painting – one of the Rainbow Serpent, which is an extremely important Dreamtime creation character. Nothing has ever been painted over it, but you can see how thousands of years of water running down the rocks has washed away some of the colour.

Zoom in to read the story.

Pascal says that because of this story, you rarely see Indigenous kids left to cry. Someone around them always comforts them.

Walking along with Pascal and he pointed out the cockies sitting quietly above us in the tree. Would I have noticed them on my own? Not a chance. I have many excellent qualities, but being observant isn’t one of them.

This is the sort of country we were walking through. I love snowgums.

Now I’m sorry, but this derpy one is so my level of drawing!

Now this is wonderful. Zoom into the orange level underneath the overhang, which has protected it. It’s called ‘The Menu.”

Fish, fish and more fish!

Way up high is a drawing in yellow of a Mimmi spirit, under a large overhang which has protected it from the weather.

Remember? The ones who are shape-shifters and are unpredictable. They can be either good or bad. But how did the Mimmi spirit get up there to draw this in the first place? Trust me, it was very high.

The explanation is that when the Mimmi spirits want to leave a selfie, they pull down the cliff overhang, draw their picture and then put the cliff back again. Simple!

OMG.

The poor Tasmanian Tiger never stood a chance. They roamed all over Australia until the dingoes came around 4,000 years ago and wiped them out from the mainland. The poor little buggers survived in Tassie until the Europeans came and exterminated all of them because they were worried they were going to kill their sheep.

But look at this. At the top of Australia, here’s a drawing of one. It’s proof that they once lived here.

This is a closeup. Now look at where it is:

It’s up high, in between the two yellowy stripes on the left. Unsurprisingly, I needed a couple of people to point it out to me. I tried, but I couldn’t see it on my own.

Then it was time to decide whether to go back to the car park or climb to the top of the hill to see more paintings and the view. Naturally, I chose to climb. The car park people peeled off, and off we went.

Truly, things like this make me determined to keep travelling while I’m (comparatively) young and nimble. The view we were climbing to see was wonderful. I’m sure everyone who went down to the car park would have appreciated it, but they were either too old or too unfit to do it.

I have to travel while I can still see and do everything!

It was a scrambly sort of climb, and this was the view from what I thought was the top. As I said, not too observant.

Nice, hey? It was a little bit windy.

Here comes the rest of the group. I like to be in front when I travel.

But then I looked around…

And THIS was the top! Off I went again.

The view was amazing.

So was the wind! I don’t normally wear my hair in a mohawk.

It didn’t look as windy when Crocodile Dundee was here … just saying.

Those who clicked on the link about Jeffrey Lee will recognise some of the places I’ve been showing you. This is one of them.

The colours in this country are incredible. I expected the reds and oranges. What I didn’t expect were the blues and greens.

On the way down, we saw some more rock art:

Wallabies.

Just after taking this I was on my way down the slope and suddenly there was the noise of someone slipping right behind me. I knew it was a large man wearing thongs on his feet instead of boots. (For the American readers – he was wearing flip-flops, not scanty women’s undies.) I braced myself, thinking that if he loses control, he’ll slide right onto me.

Fortunately, this didn’t happen. But it makes you aware of how things can turn pear-shaped very quickly.

After this, we went to Nourlangie, after swinging by the hotel. Some people elected to stay at the hotel and swim in the pool. It was around 40C so I get it, but my thinking is that I’m probably never going to come here again, so I have to see EVERYTHING.

Off we went for more rock art.

Before we started on the walk, Pascal told us about the traditional owner of this land. All of Australia is split up into traditional lands and the head of a family group is like the top elder. He manages the land and though he has a council of elders, the buck stops with him. It’s all run on traditional family lines.

Jeffrey Lee is the traditional owner of the land that we’ve been touring today.

Next door is a French mining lease that is mining uranium. Jeffrey is the last of his line. When he dies, the land will pass to another family. When the French company found this out, they thought they had a wonderful opportunity to swoop in and grab more land for their mine.

They offered Jeffrey 100 million dollars. He refused. They kept calling him, upping the number each time. He kept refusing.

He bought a new phone with a different number to avoid getting their calls. This didn’t work. They kept calling and calling.

Fed up, in the end he booked a flight, went to France and told them NO to their faces.

They countered with an offer of 450 million dollars with royalties on top.

He still said no, but he was tired of it. So he sought help from Peter Garrett, who was minister for aboriginal affairs at the time.

He wanted to give his land UNESCO World Heritage status. It was made a part of the National Park a year later. All he wants is for the land, the art, and the creatures in it to be appreciated and seen by people worldwide.

This cockie kept chiming in on Pascal’s explanations of the art.

The only souvenir I bought on this leg of the trip was a magnet from the hotel gift shop after I saw these paintings.

See?

Here are some women in ceremonial paperbark skirts.

This is funny. When Leichardt was exploring around here in the 1840s and mapping out the countryside, he described a colourful cricket with brilliant shades of blue and orange. No European person saw these crickets for 100 years. Everyone thought he was just making it up and wondered what he was smoking.

Turns out that they exist. They’re named after him as a sort of posthumous apology.

After we finished here, Pascal took us to a billabong for a walk. He dropped us off and drove the bus up along the track for a way.

“Just stay 5 metres from the water and you’ll be fine!” he said as he drove off. Bloody hell…

It was stunning. Look at all the birds!

There was a soft breeze blowing, which was very welcome considering the heat of the day.

I overtook the people who were ambling along and talking. I was in front.

Suddenly I thought of the snakes that must be around here. I was in front and didn’t know if anyone else had been walking here today. Just to be safe, I began stomping my feet on the path as a warning to them to get out of the way.

It was so beautiful and peaceful. I passed a man who was sitting on a stool, painting. His campervan was parked behind him on the road. He had a hammock slung between two trees.

We nodded as I passed.

All too soon, I saw Pascal sitting on a picnic table, waiting for us. People asked about different types of birds that we could see. Apart from us, all we could hear was the distant sound of the birds talking to each other.

On the way home we saw a massive plume of smoke right in front of us.

“Look out for the Whispering Kites,” said Pascal. “You’ll see them just outside the smoke, waiting for the mice and reptiles escaping from the fire.”

It’s true. I saw them swooping in the air. I don’t think my phone caught them.

As I walked back to my room to get ready for dinner, I saw these cockies enjoying the sprinklers. The noise they were making!

Tomorrow we head back towards Darwin.

Dad joke of the Day:

So far in this trip, crocodiles were thin on the ground and (apparently) thick in the water. Pascal kept assuring us that we’d soon see so many crocodiles that we’d get sick of the sight of them. I had my doubts – the water everywhere was the right temperature for the crocs to feel comfortable, so why would they pose for us?

But you should trust your tour guide. We arrived at the East Alligator River for an indigenous boat ride with Guluyambi cruises.

It was wonderful.

Before we got there, Pascal told us about Indigenous etiquette.

“Eye contact is a sign of aggression, so the guide will divert his gaze or wear sunglasses. He’ll probably look at the ground while talking to you, so don’t think that he’s being rude or evasive. Also a soft hold of the hand instead of a firm handshake.

“Men and women’s business is still being practised here. He’ll answer any questions he can, but if it’s about women’s business he won’t answer, or if it’s a thing that only initiated men know, he’ll dodge that answer too.”

As we hopped into the boat, we could see crocodiles sunning themselves along the banks. There were hundreds of them!

It looks like such a pretty, welcoming spot, doesn’t it?

Remember what Pascal was talking about in this post about how dangerous the Salties are? Believe me, NO ONE was tempted to hang bits of themselves out of the boat.

Especially when we began to see things like this floating in the water!

This croc wouldn’t move. Our boat had to steer around him.

Here’s another one.

“Rangers don’t manage the country,” said our guide. “Crocodile manage country. They eat anything that gets too numerous, they eat them. Including themselves…”

“Mating season, they give each other horrific injuries. They can stop the blood flow in that area until they recover.”

We saw a very brief spat between a large and small crocodile.

It was low tide, so people can cross the river here. During the day, people fish from here. But at night?

The guide never stays after 5 PM here. It’s too dangerous.

“Always take a light source at night, or best not to go out at all. 70% of animals do their activities at night. Crocodiles and snakes are all out hunting. Trust me, you do NOT want to step on one of these in the dark! Nah, by 5:30 I’m sitting in my chair, having a beer and watching the telly. I’m not going out and messing with these boys.”

You’re never alone in this place.

Egret, anyone?

I can imagine an animal pushing their way through the scrub towards the water, feeling protected by the foliage… then wham!

A little further on, the guide suddenly swung the boat around and showed us a bird. “You people are very lucky,” he said. “It’s not often you get to see a Great Billed Heron.”

I’m sorry. I tried to get a photo but it flew off into the trees.

There were some spears and a woomera stored above us in the boat.

“We’ve always made our spears light and flexible. When you throw it, the whipping motion pushes the spear into the body.

“We make the tip out of ironwood. It’s toxic. If you get that into you, you have to get it out straight away or you’ll be in trouble. If you’re hunting an animal, when it’s speared the ironwood makes them disoriented and foggy. Then it’s easier for the men to catch them.”

I thought that was amazing.

If you throw with a woomera attached at the end, it’s like the tennis ball throwing things that people take to the beach for their dogs. The woomera gives the spear 3.5 times more power.

As we were going along the river, the wind blew the hat off my head. Thank goodness I’ve got a cord under my neck or it would’ve been gone. 

Little splashes of water flew on the wind.

Beautiful!

“Geese, ducks, waterfowl eat the water chestnuts that are revealed when the waters go down. By September, they’ve eaten too much and this is when the people hunt them. They’re fat and lazy.”

Paperbark is used for many things.

” We use it every day.” Then he listed off  the following things, while I was trying my hardest to keep up with him in my notes:

“Raft made from bark from one side of 5 trees. Only take the bark from one side, don’t ringbark the tree, so the tree can recover. The bark is water-repellent. We make these when we want to cross the river so the crocs don’t get us.

Roofing.

For a sleeping mattress, we use the inner bark which is salmon coloured. We also use this for nappies and blankets. You wrap baby in blankets, it’s durable.

Bottom string wrapped on our spears.

Dilly bag, baby carried in it with the handle on her forehead and the baby on her back. The woman carries a digging stick, if she sees a lizard, she clubs it, wraps it in paperbark and puts it next to the baby. The baby doesn’t mind and she has dinner ready.

Wrap food in bark.

Use the leaves for herbs and spices.

Bush toilet paper. Inner is best.

Hats. 

Shoes for spiky country.

Canoe for sea journey from the trunk.”

“You can even get water from Paperbark,” he said. “See that bubble in the trunk? If you’re walking along and the river has dried up, you can put a hole in the bubble and get water. Of course, you only take what you need and you use the paperbark to plug the hole so the next person who comes along can use it.”

“What happens if someone doesn’t plug the hole?” asked somebody.

He laughed. “Ooohhhh, you wouldn’t want to be that person! From a small child, we are taught to only take what we need. Nothing more. You leave resources for the next person. That’s engrained in our culture.”

That’s true. Many of the stories that we’ve been told, both here and especially at Uluru, have been about the consequences when someone is selfish and goes against the code. They usually end up as a rock or reptile forever.

He pointed out a bird sitting in a tree above us. “Whistling Kite can see a mouse 2.5 km away. They keep an eye on things and clean up after hunters.”

We also saw Sea Eagles flying above us.

“Sea eagles live as long as us,” he said.”They bring whole animals back to their nests. They see everything. The sea eagles escort people back to country. if they die away from it.”

“This outcrop here is where our people used to come for a holiday. It’s a good activity place, steep and rocky so you can see the crocodiles coming. There’s also some rock art on the walls.”

I zoomed in on the cave behind the tree on the right:

“This is a good spot to hide from the kids!” he said. “The cave also has air conditioning. The wind blows right through it.”

Two-faced rock.

“The kids say it’s Homer Simpson taking a nap.”

This is a good place to avoid crocodiles. They don’t like rocks and hard surfaces on their soft bellies, so this outcrop is where we’ll be setting foot on Arnhem Land.

When he said that we’d be “setting foot on Arnhem Land”, I felt a tingle. I’ve seen the words ‘Arnhem Land’ on maps my whole life. It was so far away! But now, here I am.

Some people stayed in the boat because they were worried about crocodiles. Not me! I was up and out of there!

It wasn’t a huge climb, but the views when we got there were very pretty.

Well, here’s me, ruining the serenity! But here I am, on Arnhem Land.

Here’s the view from the other direction.

But hang on… wait a minute…

Yep! Crocodile in the water.

Imagine living here 60,000 years ago and coping with all of this? I was feeling much more admiration for the culture and people who lived here.

When I turned from the river, this was behind us.

I couldn’t help but see a face.

Here’s one with a person in it for scale.

We turned back towards the bus, saying a last goodbye to the outcrop upon which we stood. .

We slowed down as we came past this sandy beach.

“How’s this place?” asked our guide. “Does it look like a nice place for a picnic? A swim?”

When we all nodded, he said, “This beach is the best ambush place for crocodiles. They pull animals in as they come to drink. This place might look nice now, but at night it’s carnage. You can see tracks all over the sand and some don’t go back.”

Such a beautiful place, but so deadly too.

We headed back to our crocodile-shaped hotel for lunch, but it was a quick turnaround because we were going to look at Rock Art in the afternoon.

It was amazing! But that’s for another post…

Dad Joke of the Day:

I took a lot of photos on this day, so I’ve decided to split them up into three posts. This one is the sunrise plane trip. The colours and the space we saw were just incredible. There are greens and blues here that you’d never associate with the Top End, but here we are!

This is the one full day we have in Kakadu, so it started early, with a “sunrise” plane flight over Kakadu. I put the word “sunrise” in quotes because it was past sunrise when we hopped onto the bus at 6:30 AM, but I suppose it isn’t safe to drive just before sunrise in these parts. There are too many animals running across the roads.

The planes were tiny.

The first thing we saw when we took off was the abandoned Ranger uranium mine. It’s like an open sore on the landscape. Pascal said that Rio Tinto originally promised to fill up the hole and that was all they were going to do, but after many protests, they agreed to leave the land looking as if it was untouched.

“Now, I don’t know,” said Pascal, “but I’ve driven past 5 years ago, 1 year ago and today and it all looks exactly the same as it did back then…”

Soon, we were past it and headed over to the first of the three types of land we’d be seeing. This is the savanna woodlands. Next would be the Stone Country and then the wetlands.

This is a view of us looking towards the Stone Country. There are 20,000 square kilometres of it.

The trees around the cliffs that look a little like broccoli store water in blisters on their roots. These were highly prized by the indigenous people who travelled through here. They are very slow-growing. They also produce an antiseptic, so whenever both the rangers and the indigenous people start a burn, they make sure to burn around these trees.

This is the East Alligator River, so named because the first European guy who mapped it didn’t realise that he was actually running away from crocodiles. He should have stayed a little longer and examined their snouts! It last rained here 5 months ago. You can see that the river is already starting to dry up.

For enquiring minds, an alligator (on the left) has a nasty, unintelligent-looking rounded face, whereas our crocodiles have a beautiful, evil, dachshund-shaped snout, just like a velociraptor.

Beautiful, isn’t it? I was so glad that I jumped into the plane first and got a window seat. But then again, everyone has a window seat.

A stone axe head found in an archaeological dig was 65,000 years old. These people have been here for a very long time.

They are the oldest bakers in the world. This is something that is never talked about, but it’s true. They’ve been grinding seeds to make their own version of flatbreads before anyone else thought of it.

Little waterholes dotted along the river, all probably full of crocs.

It seems to go on forever.

I swear erosion plays games! If I was in the UK or Europe, I swear I’d think this was a ruined castle.

The wetlands. It’s receding now. Back in June, this whole area would have been underwater.

I love the starkness of the road cutting through the landscape.

This is one of the very few roads in Kakadu. The wetlands are so precious and vulnerable that they’ve stopped anyone but rangers and the traditional owners of the land from walking in here. The waterways were getting choked by plants that were seeded by people bringing them in on their feet from other areas.

Now, we can only see it from the sky.

Migratory birds come here from China and Siberia.

1/3 of the park is burned every year.

The pilot said that sometimes when he’s flying, he can’t see more than 2kms either way for the smoke. Fires need to go through the scrub. It’s how the indigenous people used to control the undergrowth for thousands of years, and our trees and plants have evolved, with some seeds only able to open after there’s been a fire.

The trouble with the introduced species that the Europeans brought in with them is that they burn at a far higher temperature than our native grasses. This means that if an area is infested with non-native grasses and a fire comes through, it burns the seeds and kills them, along with the trees. This is why they’re trying so hard to keep these wetlands pristine. (Unlike what’s happened at Alice Springs/Uluru. Introduced grasses are everywhere and are hard to eradicate.)

There are no tracks in the park… the rangers use helicopters to drop the fire in grids, as you can see.

We swooped a bit lower so we could see that the fire still left the trees more or less untouched – it was all the undergrowth that had been cleared away.

How is this green even possible? I’m getting Ireland vibes!

I love the trunks of the ghost gums against the grass.

Just as we were making our way down to the airfield, we passed over an Aboriginal settlement. This is a small one.

Then we were back on the ground and ready for our next adventure. It was only 8 AM!

It’s funny. If this was an optional activity, I probably wouldn’t have done it. But I’m so glad I did. It was a wonderful feeling to see the landscape stretching away beneath me and to get a feel for the immensity of this place.

Next… the boat trip down crocodile-infested waters in Arnhem Land.

Dad Joke of the Day: