Goliath

The Daintree is such a beautiful place. While it hasn’t escaped the impact of white settlement and contains many introduced species, in places you can still imagine yourself to be in a pristine wilderness. 

We were fortunate to find a relatively inaccessible spot to anchor for a few days, inside a small inlet, nicely protected by sandbanks and with enough breeze still reaching us to mean the sandflies weren’t too ferocious. It’s at times like these we’re particularly grateful to be in a catamaran drawing only 50 cm — at low tide we were virtually sitting on the bottom. We anchored near a hideaway shack on land someone years ago had managed to claim, and keep. Otherwise we were surrounded by national park. We met the lovely caretakers of this idyllic spot, who were very warm and welcoming, making our stay even more enjoyable. They were happy for us to use their freshwater creek, which meant the luxury of ‘baths’ and the joy of clean hair!

Our hosts told us about a 5.5 metre croc living in the inlet. Sure, sure, we thought, an exaggerated story to entertain the visitors. But, then we saw him. They didn’t lie. Looking towards the fork in the inlet even myopic Matey had no trouble seeing this monster swimming along. Binoculars confirmed his size. According to our host he was most likely on his way to visit one of his girlfriends in another section of the inlet. Well, it is mating season after all, but this also means crocs can be more aggressive and territorial. Goliath is apparently around 70 years old so has survived the days when crocs were shot on sight. We were told that some years before, a previous caretaker had from time to time fired potshots near Goliath, ‘just so he knows who’s boss’, so fortunately for us he has apparently retained some fear of humans. We were also told he had probably been up to check us out ...

Tempting fate

Despite having been told that Goliath was unlikely to bother us, Matey isn’t overly keen to take chances with large reptiles that look like they’ve just plodded out of the Mesozoic Era. As our sojourn on Goliath’s patch progressed, Matey had cause to be especially grateful that he had things on his mind other than becoming better acquainted with us. Captain is not always relaxed (!) but sometimes he is overly so. The night before we were to depart, we were arriving back at the boat after another evening of drinks and dinner with our hosts, when it was apparent that TC had dragged slightly in the full-moon tide and the stern anchor (we had two anchors down as there wasn’t much swinging room) needed to be brought up and repositioned.

Hmmm. It’s night time so visibility isn’t good, but fortunately the moon is helping out. Nevertheless, it’s not an operation Matey is particularly keen to perform at night with a hungry Goliath potentially lurking nearby. Somebody (!) had forgotten he left the fishing line out, and it’s now twisted around the stern anchor rope. Ok, that is sorted out via lots of activity on the back steps, just a little too close to the water/Goliath’s lair for comfort, though. No fish … or maybe Goliath gobbled it ... Hmmm. Then out in the dinghy to reposition the anchor. Matey drives dinghy while Capt lets out the rope. Oops. Stop. Back to the boat. Not enough rode out so it needs to be untied from TC. Back to easing it out. Oops. Tidal flow is still strong. We’re going backwards. Stop while Capt pulls rope in. Stop. Back. Stop. Forwards. Oops. Dinghy engine stalls. Said rope is now tangled around propeller blades. Oh goody. We’re without engine, floating in an inflatable ‘croc’s teething ring’, at night and in water where a 5.5 metre monster lurks. This would, of course (!!!), be the first time we’ve ever been silly enough to let rope tangle in the blades. Sigh. Poor Matey has to heave the motor up and lean over the water and put hands in water to untangle blades: slop slop. ‘Hello Goliath? Are you hungry? Dinner’s served’. Fortunately he’s deaf or otherwise occupied as he doesn’t show, blades are untangled, rope pulled in, motor restarted, anchor repositioned, rope eased out, dinghy is back at TC and Capt and Matey clamber gratefully back on board. Phew!

Postscript. Not all crocs are likely to be so timid (or conveniently otherwise occupied), and Matey is not keen find out if they are. Surprisingly, though, when one is actually a wee bit uneasy about one’s predicament, however short-lived, Matey is pleased to report that profanities were not to be heard and calm reigned!

Shifting sands and a row of ancient paperbarks is no more.

Ahhh … fan palms ...

Sunset at Cape Tribulation

Horizontal trees

Cape Tribulation in background

If only more coconut palms grew at this angle ...

View on entering the Bloomfield River

TC anchored in the Bloomfield

Mouth of the Bloomfield River at sunset

Three years on a boat

Hard to believe it may be, but it’s three years since we moved aboard TC. While we’ve had some ‘land breaks’, Captain, Matey and TC have been together for most of that time. We’ve all had a few ‘moments’ and the odd hissyfit, along with highlights and lowlights. As with any dwelling, once lived in for a while, imperfections and irritations become evident with time. For example, low bridge deck clearance could be perceived as a design flaw in TC (it creates a slopping/slapping sound even when we’re in near calm waters), which Capt has ruminated over on numerous occasions. A somewhat exasperated Matey recently had to tell the poor old Captain to either end his relationship with TC or accept such imperfections lovingly. They do add to TC’s unique character after all.

We’re finally on the move again, heading north. At Port Douglas we spotted our first Crocodylus Porosus in the ‘wild’ — also our nearest neighbour. After so long with not a croc to be seen we were surprised to see one so close to human habitation. Matey attempted to snap this exciting new development from the dinghy but our new buddy coyly disappeared beneath the surface. As soon as it started to move Capt moved too — very fast — as he revved the dinghy engine and we were off. No good photos to be had that day. Our new friend was basking somewhere on our stretch of the inlet each day, so we moved nearer to the entrance as he was starting to look cute with just the top of his head and back protruding through the surface, reminding the Matey of an amicable dog. No doubt if teeth had been visible too the Matey also would have been reminded of the reptilian reality of our new pal. We’ve since reminded ourselves that in these parts inflatable dinghies such as ours are known as ‘croc teething rings’ so it’s best not to allow oneself to think any croc looks friendly enough to invite to scotch o’clock. Sigh. Matey would just have to look elsewhere for new friends …

Soon the opportunity arose. It was a quick trip to the Low Isles from Port Douglas. As soon as we were moored several turtles came by to say 'hello' and a group of batfish swam straight over and anchored themselves at TC’s rear. At dinnertime a large giant trevally and some other yet-to-be-identified, shark-shaped fish with what looked like suction pads on their ‘heads’ competed with the batfish for the occasional scrap. Clearly all associated boats with free food, and were happy to let us know. It was tempting to encourage a feeding frenzy, though we restrained ourselves as best we could from creating scavengers who presumably would be made unhealthy by unnatural food. With little wind, next morning was almost perfect for snorkeling, and several giant clams were spotted.

The one

It's essential to have a good ‘the one that got away’ story, so Capt celebrated our three-year anniversary by catching a big mackerel. A superb looking fish it was, and clever too, as it extricated itself from the line while poor old Captain was still admiring it and his own fishing prowess. Matey had resigned herself to the need for fishing while we’re in the remote north, and therefore the need to despatch some of her lovely fishy friends, but she secretly and silently cheered Mr Mackerel’s lucky escape. Poor old Captain is already lamenting how sorry we’ll be when we’ve run out of food …

Today we pulled in at the southern end of the Daintree and following a dinghy reconnoiter and depth testing we carefully entered a creek, where we’re now nicely protected from the swell behind a sand bar. The view is superb.

Hanging stores include limes to avoid scurvy!

The croc looks like a submerged log directly in front of mangrove at right.

We met up with Craig for lunch aboard Wavedancer at the Low Isles 

Wavedancer

We had sunset drinks with Jan, Bob and Mal from Charisma at the Low Isles, with this view.

The Daintree beckons

Team TC

Much of July and part of August were spent getting TC and ourselves organised for venturing further north. Numerous new boat issues competed for attention, e.g. the plywood reinforcing the anchor winch was found to be rotting away nastily. This discovery turned out to be a blessing though as the poor old Captain was compelled to scratch his shining noggin and take the entire winch system apart. To the Matey’s great satisfaction the end result was a new anchoring solution in which the chain is chuted down a pipe though the deck rather than piling chaotically over the deck into the anchor ‘locker’, jamming up the winch and inspiring the frequent and colourful use of expletives. It’s probably safer too when the weather suddenly turns and a swift exit is required.

We were delighted by a visit from Barry and Bernadette, and together with Sherryn we had a gorgeous trip inland to the tablelands, where we visited the Undarra Lava Tubes, Millstream Falls, and the Mt Hypipamee crater and waterfall. The last night we spent at Chillagoe for a special dinner and slept in super comfortable beds: such luxury after so long on the boat was a treat indeed! At the relatively high altitude it was amazingly cold and the frigid temperatures, parkers and beautiful mountain ash reminded the Matey of her favourite mountains in Victoria.

We’ve since thawed out at Green Island and the amazing GBR, where the water is around 24 degrees. After several delays Team TC finally exited Cairns and we were on our way. Last night we pulled in to Port Douglas, the first stop in our voyage north. It’s great to be in aquamarine waters again!

The Captain of Team TC is so inspired he is making noises again about the possibility of changing TC’s name back to her former glorious, and much more mentionable name, Ebb Tide. Watch this space …

Millstream Falls

Four of the fab five

Looking into a 'lava tube'

Looking out

Natural rock art

No rainforest at Undara

At Chillagoe

Dinner Falls

Spot the epiphytes

Mt Hypipamee crater

Supermoon over Trinity Inlet 

Captain contemplating the many urgent and pressing problems he is required to solve on a daily basis

The beautiful GBR, parts of which are still exquisite. We can only hope it is not destroyed by more dredging, new coal mines and related shipping traffic. Maybe the illustrious Captain of Team Australia and his worthy brethren should create a fear campaign about this ...

Upolu Cay

More friends in Cairns