Dodging Crocs Down Under
Part 1
This following essays documents my 2 ½ months work in Western Australia with the National Outdoor Leadership School (http://www.nols.edu/). Twelve college students, a co-instructor and I paddled, hiked and explored the Kimberley and Pilbara regions studying natural history, wilderness leadership and expedition training in both bush and marine environments. This semester was an expedition of great contrasts. The following will focus on the Kimberley section of our semester.
Carbon dating of human remains found in Australia put it at 60,000 years old. These early humans mostly likely came from Indonesia and quickly spread throughout the Australia continent, successfully hunting and gathering in the extremes of its landscape. No people on earth have lived with greater success for longer. Aboriginals have the oldest culture in the world. No Aboriginal language has any word for “yesterday” or “tomorrow.” Early aboriginal communities had no chiefs, governing councils, wore no clothes, built no houses or pottery, herded no animals and had no sense of property. British explorer James Cook wrote in his journals, “They appear to be the most wretched people on earth, but in reality they are far happier then we Europeans. They live in a tranquillity which is not disturbed by the inequality of condition: The earth and sea of their own accord furnish them with all things necessary for life…” Unfortunately, early British settlers saw the Aboriginals as simply obstacles in the way and many accounts of horrific genocide against the natives resulted. Aboriginals used the craggy terrain of the King Leopold Mountains as a retreat from British violence in the 19th century.
The King Leopold Range is a rugged north-south mountain range dividing the Kimberly of Western Australia down its centre. Within them, the mountains evoked a sense of imperial awe, thus naming the range after the Belgian monarch who had recently carved out a huge colonial empire in the African continent on behalf of his European nation. Explorers attempted to survey the area in advance of colonial conquest by cutting through the range, but failed due to the difficulty of the terrain. It was within these mountains that our group backpacked for 31 days. After being dropped off by four-wheel drive vehicles, we hiked a short distance and made our first camp in a field of two-meter cane grass. The Kimberley would prove to be saturated with cane grass (which is a hearty and stiff wheat-like plant). Over time, the dry, jagged cane grass eventually sawed through our clothing as we continuously hiked through it. Cane grass provides an unlimited food source and shelter for kangaroos. Over the next month my explorers would surprise many of them as we hiked, startling them from their slumber in the tall cane grass. They are the deer of Australia. I was always amazed at how fast and graceful they could bound over the jagged terrain. Cane grass is extremely flammable when dry and was very useful to aboriginals in their hunting strategies. They would set controlled burns at strategic locations, which would funnel wildlife (mainly kangaroos) into a bottleneck where they could be more easily killed with spear and boomerang. We actually found detailed aboriginal spearheads and discarded cutting tools made from chert at more than one location on our journey. The Kimberly does not always show it, but fire has been part of the Kimberly ecosystem for many thousands of years.
On our first big moving day we split into two groups for more efficient travel and teaching. Time was spent throughout the day learning about navigation, route finding, map reading, triangulation, compass use and many other skills that are typically taught early on in a course. “Pindan” is the name given to the red soil, which is so common in Australia. The red colouring of the soil and rocks is due to its high iron content, which often threw off the magnetic function of our compasses. That afternoon we met up with the other group at a beautiful canyon rim camp overlooking a 100-foot waterfall. We could easily imagine aboriginal families living their lives washing, cooking and story telling on the sandy beach at the bottom of that canyon. Cockatoos (white parrot-like birds) and lorikeets (also parrot-like birds, but with bright green wings and red heads) nestled themselves into “boab” trees and sang a sweet chorus as the sun set. Boabs are peculiar looking trees, shaped like a giant coke bottle with branches coming out the top. The evening presented us with a spectacular sunset at dusk as bright red, orange and purple smeared across the horizon. All in all, it was not a bad way to start our long walk.
All watches were left behind. We wished to live more in tune with the environment, using the arc of the sun across the sky as our only timepiece. We soon learned that the best time to travel was early morning or late afternoon. Temperature became stiflingly hot during mid-day when the sun was high overhead. The intense sun, bringer of life, was also a serious threat in terms of heat exhaustion and dehydration. Our thermometer read (on average) 109 degrees F in the shade and 115 degrees F in the mid-day sunlight. We left our thermometer on a rock in direct sunlight during one of many water breaks. As the rock radiated heat our thermometer climbed to 130 degrees F. I consumed between one and 1 ½ gallons of water a day and in a land where one in four people are diagnosed with skin cancer we all diligently covered our skin from the sun’s penetrating rays.
Despite monsoonal rains during the wet season, Australia remains the second most arid continent on earth (Antarctica is the driest). I saw clouds only twice in my two and a half months there. Nevertheless, many water-loving creatures abound in abundant streams and pools of the Kimberly including fish, snakes, lizards and crocodiles. Crocodiles were of particular concern for us due to their potentially aggressive hunting tactics. They are “crepuscular” feeders, meaning that they primarily hunt at dusk and dawn. They also pay attention to the watering habits of mammals, which is why we never sought our water from the same place twice. Crocodiles prefer deep murky water where they can disguise themselves, waiting for unwary prey. They dislike rocky riverbanks, as their underbellies are quite tender. There have been fewer than 20 humans killed by crocodiles in Australia over the past 30 years. However, a local from Victoria (northeast Australia) whom I talked to earlier in the summer lamented at having lost two of his favourite dogs to “crocs.” Due to this threat, our group took diligent precautions such as designating a “croc watch” team whenever we crossed suspicious watery terrain.
The King Leopold Mountains are a vast and varied landscape. The terrain reminded me of a cross between the scrubby canyons of southern Utah and the rocky plains of Wyoming with lush, tropical jungle foliage in the deep valleys. This juxtaposition of dry and wet could boggle the mind. One particularly warm day was spent traversing and climbing for ten kilometres along a steep ridge near the Isdell River. As our group of seven ascended we were inadvertently diverted into a side canyon by the surrounding topography. We spent most of the day bushwhacking through this canyon, our goal of camp lying on the other side of the ridge. The drainage was thick with pandanus and saw grass. Pandanus is a beautiful palm-like tree that grows upward in a spiral pattern. We took particular notice to avoid saw grass, which stands up to two meters tall and resembles an Aloe Vera plant. Its leaf edges sport sharp needles which, if brushed against, will imbed themselves into clothed and exposed skin alike.
The day felt extremely hot. My students were exhausted from bushwhacking through thick foliage and bitting green ants. After many hours of the dense travel, we spied what we would all agree on later must be the “most beautiful pool in the world.” A limestone cliff 15 feet tall funnelled the creek into a spout, which poured water into a waist-deep pool below. A rock provided a platform in which to stand under the waterfall for a cool back massage. Green pandanus lined the sides and created much needed shade and roots to sit on. A slanted, smooth rock provided a natural water slide. We could see the bottom of the pool through the clear blue water and after diligent reconnaissance found it to be “croc-free.” This was a much-needed break and we spent the afternoon swimming and lounging along its banks. My group did eventually make it to camp well before sunset. Upon arrival, however, we learned from the other group that they had spent an exhausting afternoon tramping unnecessarily for four hours and five kilometres out of their way due to becoming disoriented in the thick terrain on the other side of the ridge. We sincerely felt sorry for them, and subsequently agreed to keep our leisurely and relaxing afternoon activities at the “most beautiful pool in the world” to ourselves.
Australia is home to many species of snakes. As we were summiting Mount Matthew (the tallest mountain in the area at 700 meters) I saw a seven-foot long python (not poisonous) sunning itself on a tree branch. Northwest Australia also contains some of the most poisonous snakes in the world including the King Brown, the Northern Death Adder and the Taipan (which has enough venom to kill a rat 150,000 times over). To protect ourselves from these serpents we diligently wore sturdy leather boots and gaiters (a stout nylon covering of the lower leg which attaches to the boot). “Snakes in the grass” brought new meaning as we were constantly on the lookout for anything that slithered around us. More than once I heard a rustle followed by the dying cries of a mouse in the nearby cane grass. The circle of life seemed all around us. Fortunately for daytime travellers such as us, poisonous snakes are usually nocturnal hunters. I noticed this first hand one night as I lay sleeping on the gravel of a dry riverbed. I awoke to a “scrunch, scrunch” which sounded like someone walking through dry leaves outside my tent. I shined my headlamp out onto the ground and could see the five-foot long body of a King Brown with its distinct black, spade-shaped head. Never have I been so close to a deadly lethal snake, separated only by a thin bit of mosquito netting. Luckily, neither of us wished for an altercation. I nodded in acknowledgement to the passer-by as it continued on its way, undoubtedly looking for a midnight rodent meal.
“Solo” is a structured reflection time for students. Halfway through the course we found an excellent canyon to set up this activity. The canyon flowed with clear water, was adorned with aboriginal rock art and overhanging cliffs where people could explore and spread out. Each student was assigned their own little nook of the canyon where they would have zero contact with anyone for two days. During this time I stumbled upon a large lizard at the creek, which I later realized to be a “water monitor.” It raised its head high when I approached and I could see its sides inflate and deflate with each breath. It stood still, staring at me, as if to understand my intentions. I snapped off a few good pictures of it with my zoom lense, before it grew weary of me and awkwardly sauntered off its sunning rock and into the water. I later looked up some interesting facts about the water monitor in our field library: They're large lizards and come second in size only to the Komodo Dragon. They're strong swimmers, propelling themselves through sinuous undulations of their flattened tail and can remain underwater for up to half an hour. They run fast for their size and climb using strong curved claws to escape predators. Water Monitors are able to maintain an almost constant body temperature by choosing appropriate micro-climates in their habitat; hiding when it's hot and seeking warm places when it's cool at night. Who knew?
The goal of a NOLS course is to teach students to learn the skills to be self-sufficient enough to participate on a student-only expedition. They must become proficient with land navigation, risk management, route description plans, first aide and must learn to work well together as a team. The “student group expedition” primarily took place during the last 10-day ration period of the course. After a day of preparations and emergency procedure planning, students were off. Instructors would hike alone and rendezvous with the students one week later, 60 kilometres to the south. During this period I hiked along the Barker River for several days, which was full of polished granite cliffs, interspersed with clear pools and rocky rapids. In one pool I noticed a dark, three-foot long shape in the water. Initially, it looked like a floating log, but when I trained my eyes on it I could tell it was a freshwater crocodile. Only its nostrils and the two marble-sized humps of its eyes protruded above the water. We seemed to make eye contact for only a moment, then the croc submerged and retreated under a protective rocky shelf. Later that afternoon my co-instructor and I rounded a rocky bend in the river, startling a big five-foot long crocodile. It was as startled as we were. Crocs seem so awkward on land, yet so smooth and menacing in the water. The running croc was almost humorous, as it ran with arched back and head flailing side-to-side back into its sanctuary in the water. That evening we camped on a finely polished granite slab well above the flowing creek. As night fell on our rocky perch, we could see the glowing orange eyes of several freshwater crocs in the creek below.
When students rendezvoused with instructors at the end of the route, we celebrated with an extensive debrief swapping stories and spent two lay-over days fasting and building a sweat lodge out of tent poles, tarps and plastic rubbish bags. The “sweat” was built to be completely dark inside with a pit in the middle for red-hot rocks super-heated by the fire outside. Water was poured over the rocks occasionally for steam and created the hottest sauna I have ever experienced. The sweat has its origins in Native American culture and was a physical, as well as, mental challenge. I have never run a marathon, but I’ve run a ½ marathon and afterwards I felt like I had run two of those. I slept for 12 hours that night and the whole group rested, hydrated and ate together the following day. The whole experience seemed a fitting end to celebrate our solo and backpacking adventure.
This following essays documents my 2 ½ months work in Western Australia with the National Outdoor Leadership School (http://www.nols.edu/). Twelve college students, a co-instructor and I paddled, hiked and explored the Kimberley and Pilbara regions studying natural history, wilderness leadership and expedition training in both bush and marine environments. This semester was an expedition of great contrasts. The following will focus on the Kimberley section of our semester.
Carbon dating of human remains found in Australia put it at 60,000 years old. These early humans mostly likely came from Indonesia and quickly spread throughout the Australia continent, successfully hunting and gathering in the extremes of its landscape. No people on earth have lived with greater success for longer. Aboriginals have the oldest culture in the world. No Aboriginal language has any word for “yesterday” or “tomorrow.” Early aboriginal communities had no chiefs, governing councils, wore no clothes, built no houses or pottery, herded no animals and had no sense of property. British explorer James Cook wrote in his journals, “They appear to be the most wretched people on earth, but in reality they are far happier then we Europeans. They live in a tranquillity which is not disturbed by the inequality of condition: The earth and sea of their own accord furnish them with all things necessary for life…” Unfortunately, early British settlers saw the Aboriginals as simply obstacles in the way and many accounts of horrific genocide against the natives resulted. Aboriginals used the craggy terrain of the King Leopold Mountains as a retreat from British violence in the 19th century.
The King Leopold Range is a rugged north-south mountain range dividing the Kimberly of Western Australia down its centre. Within them, the mountains evoked a sense of imperial awe, thus naming the range after the Belgian monarch who had recently carved out a huge colonial empire in the African continent on behalf of his European nation. Explorers attempted to survey the area in advance of colonial conquest by cutting through the range, but failed due to the difficulty of the terrain. It was within these mountains that our group backpacked for 31 days. After being dropped off by four-wheel drive vehicles, we hiked a short distance and made our first camp in a field of two-meter cane grass. The Kimberley would prove to be saturated with cane grass (which is a hearty and stiff wheat-like plant). Over time, the dry, jagged cane grass eventually sawed through our clothing as we continuously hiked through it. Cane grass provides an unlimited food source and shelter for kangaroos. Over the next month my explorers would surprise many of them as we hiked, startling them from their slumber in the tall cane grass. They are the deer of Australia. I was always amazed at how fast and graceful they could bound over the jagged terrain. Cane grass is extremely flammable when dry and was very useful to aboriginals in their hunting strategies. They would set controlled burns at strategic locations, which would funnel wildlife (mainly kangaroos) into a bottleneck where they could be more easily killed with spear and boomerang. We actually found detailed aboriginal spearheads and discarded cutting tools made from chert at more than one location on our journey. The Kimberly does not always show it, but fire has been part of the Kimberly ecosystem for many thousands of years.
On our first big moving day we split into two groups for more efficient travel and teaching. Time was spent throughout the day learning about navigation, route finding, map reading, triangulation, compass use and many other skills that are typically taught early on in a course. “Pindan” is the name given to the red soil, which is so common in Australia. The red colouring of the soil and rocks is due to its high iron content, which often threw off the magnetic function of our compasses. That afternoon we met up with the other group at a beautiful canyon rim camp overlooking a 100-foot waterfall. We could easily imagine aboriginal families living their lives washing, cooking and story telling on the sandy beach at the bottom of that canyon. Cockatoos (white parrot-like birds) and lorikeets (also parrot-like birds, but with bright green wings and red heads) nestled themselves into “boab” trees and sang a sweet chorus as the sun set. Boabs are peculiar looking trees, shaped like a giant coke bottle with branches coming out the top. The evening presented us with a spectacular sunset at dusk as bright red, orange and purple smeared across the horizon. All in all, it was not a bad way to start our long walk.
All watches were left behind. We wished to live more in tune with the environment, using the arc of the sun across the sky as our only timepiece. We soon learned that the best time to travel was early morning or late afternoon. Temperature became stiflingly hot during mid-day when the sun was high overhead. The intense sun, bringer of life, was also a serious threat in terms of heat exhaustion and dehydration. Our thermometer read (on average) 109 degrees F in the shade and 115 degrees F in the mid-day sunlight. We left our thermometer on a rock in direct sunlight during one of many water breaks. As the rock radiated heat our thermometer climbed to 130 degrees F. I consumed between one and 1 ½ gallons of water a day and in a land where one in four people are diagnosed with skin cancer we all diligently covered our skin from the sun’s penetrating rays.
Despite monsoonal rains during the wet season, Australia remains the second most arid continent on earth (Antarctica is the driest). I saw clouds only twice in my two and a half months there. Nevertheless, many water-loving creatures abound in abundant streams and pools of the Kimberly including fish, snakes, lizards and crocodiles. Crocodiles were of particular concern for us due to their potentially aggressive hunting tactics. They are “crepuscular” feeders, meaning that they primarily hunt at dusk and dawn. They also pay attention to the watering habits of mammals, which is why we never sought our water from the same place twice. Crocodiles prefer deep murky water where they can disguise themselves, waiting for unwary prey. They dislike rocky riverbanks, as their underbellies are quite tender. There have been fewer than 20 humans killed by crocodiles in Australia over the past 30 years. However, a local from Victoria (northeast Australia) whom I talked to earlier in the summer lamented at having lost two of his favourite dogs to “crocs.” Due to this threat, our group took diligent precautions such as designating a “croc watch” team whenever we crossed suspicious watery terrain.
The King Leopold Mountains are a vast and varied landscape. The terrain reminded me of a cross between the scrubby canyons of southern Utah and the rocky plains of Wyoming with lush, tropical jungle foliage in the deep valleys. This juxtaposition of dry and wet could boggle the mind. One particularly warm day was spent traversing and climbing for ten kilometres along a steep ridge near the Isdell River. As our group of seven ascended we were inadvertently diverted into a side canyon by the surrounding topography. We spent most of the day bushwhacking through this canyon, our goal of camp lying on the other side of the ridge. The drainage was thick with pandanus and saw grass. Pandanus is a beautiful palm-like tree that grows upward in a spiral pattern. We took particular notice to avoid saw grass, which stands up to two meters tall and resembles an Aloe Vera plant. Its leaf edges sport sharp needles which, if brushed against, will imbed themselves into clothed and exposed skin alike.
The day felt extremely hot. My students were exhausted from bushwhacking through thick foliage and bitting green ants. After many hours of the dense travel, we spied what we would all agree on later must be the “most beautiful pool in the world.” A limestone cliff 15 feet tall funnelled the creek into a spout, which poured water into a waist-deep pool below. A rock provided a platform in which to stand under the waterfall for a cool back massage. Green pandanus lined the sides and created much needed shade and roots to sit on. A slanted, smooth rock provided a natural water slide. We could see the bottom of the pool through the clear blue water and after diligent reconnaissance found it to be “croc-free.” This was a much-needed break and we spent the afternoon swimming and lounging along its banks. My group did eventually make it to camp well before sunset. Upon arrival, however, we learned from the other group that they had spent an exhausting afternoon tramping unnecessarily for four hours and five kilometres out of their way due to becoming disoriented in the thick terrain on the other side of the ridge. We sincerely felt sorry for them, and subsequently agreed to keep our leisurely and relaxing afternoon activities at the “most beautiful pool in the world” to ourselves.
Australia is home to many species of snakes. As we were summiting Mount Matthew (the tallest mountain in the area at 700 meters) I saw a seven-foot long python (not poisonous) sunning itself on a tree branch. Northwest Australia also contains some of the most poisonous snakes in the world including the King Brown, the Northern Death Adder and the Taipan (which has enough venom to kill a rat 150,000 times over). To protect ourselves from these serpents we diligently wore sturdy leather boots and gaiters (a stout nylon covering of the lower leg which attaches to the boot). “Snakes in the grass” brought new meaning as we were constantly on the lookout for anything that slithered around us. More than once I heard a rustle followed by the dying cries of a mouse in the nearby cane grass. The circle of life seemed all around us. Fortunately for daytime travellers such as us, poisonous snakes are usually nocturnal hunters. I noticed this first hand one night as I lay sleeping on the gravel of a dry riverbed. I awoke to a “scrunch, scrunch” which sounded like someone walking through dry leaves outside my tent. I shined my headlamp out onto the ground and could see the five-foot long body of a King Brown with its distinct black, spade-shaped head. Never have I been so close to a deadly lethal snake, separated only by a thin bit of mosquito netting. Luckily, neither of us wished for an altercation. I nodded in acknowledgement to the passer-by as it continued on its way, undoubtedly looking for a midnight rodent meal.
“Solo” is a structured reflection time for students. Halfway through the course we found an excellent canyon to set up this activity. The canyon flowed with clear water, was adorned with aboriginal rock art and overhanging cliffs where people could explore and spread out. Each student was assigned their own little nook of the canyon where they would have zero contact with anyone for two days. During this time I stumbled upon a large lizard at the creek, which I later realized to be a “water monitor.” It raised its head high when I approached and I could see its sides inflate and deflate with each breath. It stood still, staring at me, as if to understand my intentions. I snapped off a few good pictures of it with my zoom lense, before it grew weary of me and awkwardly sauntered off its sunning rock and into the water. I later looked up some interesting facts about the water monitor in our field library: They're large lizards and come second in size only to the Komodo Dragon. They're strong swimmers, propelling themselves through sinuous undulations of their flattened tail and can remain underwater for up to half an hour. They run fast for their size and climb using strong curved claws to escape predators. Water Monitors are able to maintain an almost constant body temperature by choosing appropriate micro-climates in their habitat; hiding when it's hot and seeking warm places when it's cool at night. Who knew?
The goal of a NOLS course is to teach students to learn the skills to be self-sufficient enough to participate on a student-only expedition. They must become proficient with land navigation, risk management, route description plans, first aide and must learn to work well together as a team. The “student group expedition” primarily took place during the last 10-day ration period of the course. After a day of preparations and emergency procedure planning, students were off. Instructors would hike alone and rendezvous with the students one week later, 60 kilometres to the south. During this period I hiked along the Barker River for several days, which was full of polished granite cliffs, interspersed with clear pools and rocky rapids. In one pool I noticed a dark, three-foot long shape in the water. Initially, it looked like a floating log, but when I trained my eyes on it I could tell it was a freshwater crocodile. Only its nostrils and the two marble-sized humps of its eyes protruded above the water. We seemed to make eye contact for only a moment, then the croc submerged and retreated under a protective rocky shelf. Later that afternoon my co-instructor and I rounded a rocky bend in the river, startling a big five-foot long crocodile. It was as startled as we were. Crocs seem so awkward on land, yet so smooth and menacing in the water. The running croc was almost humorous, as it ran with arched back and head flailing side-to-side back into its sanctuary in the water. That evening we camped on a finely polished granite slab well above the flowing creek. As night fell on our rocky perch, we could see the glowing orange eyes of several freshwater crocs in the creek below.
When students rendezvoused with instructors at the end of the route, we celebrated with an extensive debrief swapping stories and spent two lay-over days fasting and building a sweat lodge out of tent poles, tarps and plastic rubbish bags. The “sweat” was built to be completely dark inside with a pit in the middle for red-hot rocks super-heated by the fire outside. Water was poured over the rocks occasionally for steam and created the hottest sauna I have ever experienced. The sweat has its origins in Native American culture and was a physical, as well as, mental challenge. I have never run a marathon, but I’ve run a ½ marathon and afterwards I felt like I had run two of those. I slept for 12 hours that night and the whole group rested, hydrated and ate together the following day. The whole experience seemed a fitting end to celebrate our solo and backpacking adventure.
