Tag Archives: Australia

Kimberley Day 6 – Swift Bay

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Sunday 18 August 2024 – Sorry, you’ve got Steve again, writing about my day, even though I wasn’t allowed out of the cabin. Jane went on the day’s expedition, but it was mainly about the rock art and she’ll talk about that in a minute.

I was able to take a few photos of passing interest from our veranda as the ship was at anchor. A large crocodile was clearly visible in the water quite near the ship.

A little context might help. Here’s how the croc looked, as Zodiacs headed for the shore. I put the red ring round it, as its cunning camouflage makes it difficult to spot; there wasn’t some kind of clever croc limiter in place.

I thought I saw a shark

but, a little disappointingly, it turned out to be some kind of dolphin.

The clincher, as any fule kno, was that the tail fins were horizontal (cetacean) rather than being vertical (fish).

There was a whale, too, not that that is a huge amount to write home about; if I’d missed it, I suppose I might have wanted to blubber. In fact, there were (at least) two – mother and calf, we suspect.

I marshalled the mighty capabilities of my Nice New Nikon to try to capture The Perfect Shot as the whale spouted, and took lots of stills as it did so during its cetacean equivalent of the paseo. I couldn’t decide which was the best, so here they all are.

That sequence is made from successive stills from the camera; I’m very impressed with its ability to make up for the shortcomings of its user.

I’m also impressed that the captain, having alerted us to the whale’s presence to port (I could see it from our cabin), stopped the boat and actually turned it around so that the starboard-based plague-ridden people could take a look.

From my point of view, that was the main excitement of the day so far; I’m expecting that the medics will check me out later. Until then, here’s Jane:

Today’s expedition was to view more rock art in the rock shelters formed by the heavily fractured sandstone making up Swift Bay.

A short walk brought us to a linked series of shelters formed by rock overhangs;

it is thought that the different shelters were used for different activities: cooking and eating; sleeping; and teaching the children. There was a fairly large midden of shells outside the gallery.

As we’ve established, it would not be respectful to share photos of the rock art, fascinating as it is, but the website of the Wunambal Gaambera people, title holders of this area of land, has a few words about, and a few images of, the Swift Bay site here which I feel comfortable sharing, since they have!

As well as the rock art, there was some striking rock stuff (as we’ve come to expect here in the Kimberley).

Medical update

Steve again: to misquote the bible, I’ve been (medically) weighed in the balance and found wanting (not sure whether this is Mene, Tekel or Upharsin [Tekel – Ed]). I still have a raised temperature, and so my isolation must continue. There were a couple of very frustrating aspects to this. Firstly, Lucille, the medical assistant who assessed me, told me that the criteria for release, all other vital signs being normal, include two successive days of normal body temperature. This being the case, I should just about be let out in time to disembark in Darwin, which is not a pleasing prospect, particularly as there’s one expedition I’m very keen to participate in. Secondly, I should have been taking paracetamol, as this might have lowered my temperature (I didn’t realise it was an anti-pyretic, actually). So, if I’d gone against my normal “medicate only if strictly necessary” approach, I might have been let out.  As it is, I face the bleak prospect of at least two more days stuck in the cabin. At least it’s a comfortable prison cell…

On the schedule tomorrow are two excursions within the engagingly-named Vansittart Bay. Excitingly, one of these does not involve rock art, so there may be a decent crop of photos for us to share.  Keep your eyes on these pages to find out, eh?

 

Kimberley Day 5 – Hunter River & Porosus Creek

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Saturday 17 August 2024 – Steve here, just popping up to say a couple of things before handing the reins back over to Jane.

Firstly, though I guess this is a somewhat dubious distinction, I am a trendsetter. Yesterday, having noted my sore throat, I heard the ship-wide announcement at around 3pm inveighing anyone to see the doctor in the case of symptoms, and immediately hotfooted it down to the medical facility.

Which was shut.

I found Dain in the corridor and he gently pointed out the noticeboard outside the facility saying it re-opened at 5pm. So I made absolutely sure to get there 10 minutes early, wearing a mask. Much to my surprise, there was no queue, so I just walked in to explain my situation. I think the doc and his assistant were a little surprised at my presumption, but they sat me down and, using what I consider to be the old-fashioned, long-handled, nasal swab that seems actually to touch your brain tissue, tested me. Twice; once for Covid and the other for influenza (I didn’t know there was such a test, actually). Negative for Covid, positive for Influenza A, so I was immediately dispatched to isolate myself in my cabin.  As I left, the medical facility’s waiting area was now crowded with people there, presumably, for the same reason as me. But I got there first. Hah! Li’l old trendsetter, me.

Unsurprisingly, the situation escalated, and the captain had to make a general announcement that, since the number of cases had passed the 4% mark, mask wearing anywhere inside on the ship was mandatory, and highly recommended outside and on the Zodiacs. Later still, he joined the evening briefing to tell us that there were, so far, 10 confirmed cases, six of Covid and four of Influenza.

So Le Lapérouse was now officially a Plague Ship.

It’s all under control, or so they say. Our cabin now has a notional quarantine flag against it, so our cabin girl, Verona, doesn’t come to tidy up after us, which seems sensible. We also get lunch and dinner menus delivered so that I can order a meal to be brought to the cabin. Thus far, though, because my appetite has not been immense, Jane has simply brought the occasional mignardise for me, which has been sufficient.  To their credit, the ship’s reception has followed up the menu delivery just to see if I wanted to order anything; the organisation has responded well.

And now, back to Jane…..

Today’s excursions were two zodiac cruises along the Hunter River and its tributary, Porosus Creek.

The morning cruise was at high tide. We passed a dramatic pair of rock formations as we entered the mouth of the main Hunter river

and passed under towering cliffs of the now familiar blazing orange and black sandstone.

The river is fringed with several species of mangrove

 

but behind the fringe of mangroves, naturally fragmented into specific ecosystems by the rock formations, are monsoon vine thickets: a short-statured form of closed-canopy rainforest, containing many food and medicinal plant species of cultural importance as well as supporting a wide variety of endemic flora and fauna.

The setting was extremely beautiful; the reflections in the water reminded me of Rorschach ink blots!

and the colours of the rocks together with the turquoise water were wonderful.

We were hoping for wildlife but to be honest there wasn’t much, and what there was was only glimpsed briefly: a snub nosed dolphin, diamond backed mullet, some substantial jellyfish, a night heron, a couple of kingfishers; we did see one of the salt water crocodiles (“salties”) that live here but it was displaying precisely why the salties are such dangerous predators by being virtually invisible.

So we returned to the ship for lunch, then ventured out again, as the tide was falling, along Porosus Creek.

Low tide = mud…

and mud = mud skippers! We had seen – at a distance – some tiny ones (a couple of inches long) in Talbot Bay; these, however, were giant mud skippers, up to around a foot long, and the males were showing off and leaping about to impress the females:

Sorry it’s such a hopeless bit of video – I was trying to hold my phone steady on a rocking zodiac while avoiding getting bits of other punters in the picture, and this was the only reasonably steady fragment!! Hopefully you will get the pro videographer back soon…

Anyhoo, mud also = crocodile tracks

And everyone knows that crocodile tracks = crocodiles!

There was an interesting stand-off between these two at the entrance to a small side creek – but they obviously reckoned that discretion was the better part of valour and sidled past each other…

 

So all in all a delightfully riparian day! The morrow has more rock art in prospect. Since I am requested not to share pictures of the art on social media I’m not sure how this is going to play out; come back tomorrow to find out!

Kimberley Day 4 – Bigge Island

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Friday August 16 – My birthday, marked by the present, from Fate, of the ‘flu, I therefore took to my bed – however I should point out that I also received good wishes and a birthday dessert delivered to the room from the on-board team, and apparently Happy Birthday was sung to me in my absence at the daily briefing!

Anyhoo , while I languished, Jane went out and had all the fun. I let her take up the narrative….

Bigge Island was named by Phillip Parker King in 1819 after the English Judge and royal commissioner John Thomas Bigge. The Wunambal people of the Kimberley coast know it as Wuuyuru and it is a place of great significance to them, although it has not been inhabited for many years.

We were transferred to shore by Zodiac;

after a certain amount of milling about and depositing lifejackets, etc, our visit was split into two parts.

The first was a short walk inland (carefully avoiding the areas on the beach and in the dunes marked as turtle nesting sites)

onto rocky areas

where ceremonial sites – pathways and circles of stones – can be found.

The people who made and used these sites are no longer around to ask, but the pathways are generally thought to indicate the path of the Wunnguur, a variation of the Rainbow Serpent or creator; or (as perhaps in this case)

to indicate a significant natural resource such as fresh water.

The stone circles were most likely used for ceremonies such as marriages, places of judgement, or resting places for the dead before final interment.

We then moved on to the second part of our visit: directly on the beach are galleries of small narrow caves wherein can be found rock art.

We were asked to leave backpacks and hats outside so as not to risk scraping any of the walls or ceilings; and again the Aboriginal people request that the art is not shared on social media. However there is an interesting article here – presumably published before the no-share request – by means of which I can show you some of the art we saw.

Of particular interest are the representations of the Wandjina, the local weather deities who control rain, floods, storms and cyclones. Some Dreamtime stories say that they created the landscape and its inhabitants, and that when they left the earth they passed through the rocks, leaving an imprint of themselves behind – so what we see is not so much an artistic representation but more an imprint of their actual life force, and as such an object of reverence and respect. Whatever their nature, they date back around 4,000 years and seem to coincide with the end of a millennium-long drought that gave way to a wetter climate – which would make sense given the association of the Wandjina with water and weather.

Equally  interesting, are the “First Contact” drawings. Much more recent, since first contact was in 1788, and rather more prone to erosion than the Wandjina-era works (the skills involved in creating the art obviously dying out by a few hundred years ago) these depict sailing ships and men in European clothing, smoking pipes. The article referenced above has some (obviously processed) photographs showing some of these clearly. In addition there were representations of footprints – or rather boot-prints, from boots apparently with heels; and what we would call a churchwarden’s pipe, the characteristic clay pipe often dug up in English fields and gardens. Throughout there were handprints, the outlines of (presumably) the artists’ hands – “I am here. I am country. Country is me”.

It was a fascinating and thought-provoking excursion. I arrived back at the ship to find that Steve had just been tested in the ship’s hospital and confirmed as a case of Influenza A; he’s not going to be going anywhere for the next couple of days at least – confined to cabin! But at least it wasn’t Covid, and – so far at least – I don’t appear to be affected. So you are going to have to put up with my (deathless) prose and (second-class) photography [don’t be so modest – Asst Ed] for a bit! Here’s wishing us all luck!