Here We Go Again - Chapter 73 - El Questro Day 2

I have woken feeling not 100%.  My nose is blocked from the dust and incessant sneezing has given me nose bleeds.

Robyn when she was booking us in, arranged for access to the Wifi. She is merrily working away, catching up on world news as I kick my machine into gear. No such luck for me, no registration or connection or internet. This is becoming more than frustrating. We have similar hardware of about the same age and similar SIM cards but our ability to access the internet is vastly different.

This does not reduce my ill feeling either.

.

I head to the reception area to sit and try there. This is obviously the solution as the internet is accessed no worries. For now then I will rise early and park myself on a table near the bar and work as I need to. Really I am only accessing the blog so other than being able to keep up, or in my case catch up as the days without internet have meant only hand written notes of the days events.

I give myself a couple of hours, not wanting to waste the opportunity to re-explore the station.

Robyn is keen to do the Chamberlain Gorge tour this afternoon. Its a mid afternoon boat tour up the Chamberlain Gorge to a “fish sanctuary”. Shaun, our Ranger friend. is very keen for us to experience everything there is to offer here. We certainly have not done this cruise before so it is something new, but as to experiencing everything this place has to offer, I am not sure we are up to it.

For now we drive out to the Chamberlain and board the boat for a leisurely afternoon cruise. The rods here are very dusty. In the camp proper they water them down constantly, but once you are out of the complex, the dust billows after the vehicle. Towards the boat ramp we pass turnoffs to private camps set well back and on the river. These are unpowered and for those wanting the full camping experience. The bushes at the turnoff to each is caked in dust and I am not sure the distance between the road and the sites is far enough as to stop the dust enveloping the site every time a vehicle goes past.

We have packed into the Silver Leader Cruiser for the trek to the ramp. Its pristine whiteness soon disappears in favour of a much redder hue. 

At the ramp there is a mish mash of parking attempts. Everyone for themselves regardless of the consequence for others. Fearing being parked in, Silver Leader parks where “blast off’ should be assured. Before we walk away towards the boat, his fears are realised. Nothing we can do about it now, the driver and the passengers alighted very quickly and passed us on their way to a vantage point on the boat.

There is a bus here. An El Questro bus, having picked up patrons from the reception now has the optimum spot beside the boat for ease of transfer. We have our names checked off and enter the boat. The gunnels of the aluminium boat, in the sun when not in use, are too hot to touch as I find out as I sit down. The skipper suggests his first action will be to head under a cliff into the shade to cool the hot metal down. 

There are fish here – Archer Fish, and Catfish but nothing like what we are to see later on the trip.

The waterway is very shallow. The flat bottomed boat, the best option for negotiating it. As suggested, the first “port of call” is the shade of the other side of the gorge. Our skipper and guide talk about what we might see as we travel along the river.

Of course there is the obligatory crocodile, Brutus. He is shading under a tree near a log. He seems oblivious to our arrival in his domain, warming himself before the night time hunting activities begin. 

The gorge here streaks almost vertically. There are wallabies bounding along the crevices, scampering to safety from us. Not that we are any sort of danger.

One side cliffs, the other a red sandy beach, complete with shady trees. We continue on our quest. The reds and oranges of the cliffs, contrasting the blue of the sky and the greens of the spinifex and other trees mesmerise us.

Eventually we go, and we can go no further. In the final part of the journey, the crew have begun to hand out fish food to assist in our efforts to bring fish to the boat. We moor against a marker buoy and the boat swings around. Immediately there are fish around the boat.

Our guide suggests that they are Archer Fish, Catfish, Grunter and if we are lucky we might just see a Barramundi. The Archer Fish are a bit like Pavlov’s Dog. We hold food out and they attempt to shoot it from our hands. At the angle of attack and coupled with the naivety of the onlookers, we are often soaked by their attempts.

Its a learned response we are told, and if you are “shot” you are expected to reward the shooting fish. The schools of other fish are circling the boat. There are glimpses of a Barramundi. It does not seem to want to be fed like the other fish, it just seems to want to circle.

All of a sudden there is a large splash. A grunter has become Barramundi dinner. It was quick and it was lethal. The circle of life in its fullest extent. 

The Archer Fish continue to shower the boat. You only have to look in their general direction and you are shot, regardless of whether you are looking to feed them or not. It gets to the point where you dare not look over the side for fear of being drenched. Silver Leader looks sideways and gets blasted to the hysterical joy of the crowd, then so do I. The fun continues.

But fun must end, and we return along the river to the ramp, hugging the shade. As part of the ride we had been offered bubbly and orange juice. Just enough to take any edge off. Soon enough we are done and back at the ramp.

The offending “parkers” have quickly returned to their vehicle and gone, making our escape easy, although dusty. As we get in the Cruiser Rose looks to wipe it down of dust, a futile gesture in my opinion but that is Rose. Free camping the generator must be on so the air conditioning can be run. Its a different way to camp, its their way.

Shaun has sent me a message asking what we are up to tomorrow. He has an early starting shift and then a day off (hopefully to go fishing). He is starting at 4.15am and should finish about 3.00pm. Perhaps we will be able to catch up with him for a beer and plan this fishing trip.

He asks what we might be up to tomorrow. Our plan is to start with a dip at Zebedee Springs, then let the day unfold. He suggests he will open up Zebedee at 6.00am for a private swim for us, if we want to get there early. It is only open for general use from 8.00am to noon.

We return to the complex, undertake happy hour, and retire after suggesting to the others what Shaun had planned. Our plan had been a late start and perhaps a 10.00am swim. This new information will change that.