Apr 15-18: Gibb River Road

I have spent the last 3 days driving across "the Gibb".

It is a 600km stretch of highway from Derby to Kunnunura that shoots directly across the northwest corner of Australia. If you're going from Broome to Darwin, this is one of two routes available. Road conditions vary heavily over the course of a season. The road is currently only open to 4-wheel drive vehicles below 7 tonnes, because there is still quite a bit of water on the roads. It has been an interesting trip. My first night, I ran into a pair of dutch guys that I met in Exmouth. We had a couple of good laughs, due in part to the fact that I had forced them to take some mp3 audiobooks to help pass the driving time - including Men are from Mars and Women are from Venus.

Though the vast majority of the drive was remarkably uneventful, there are a couple of very noteable exceptions.

At the midpoint on the second day I hit a bump so big that it broke the mounts for my roof rack, sheering its feeble steel legs. The cage above, complete with full gas cans and huge spare jug of water came crashing down on the roof, giving the truck a somewhat appropriate set of battlescars to remember the trip.

The morning of the third day I came to a river. Up to this point, there had been a number of water crossings over small streams, creeks and floodways. The operating manual for the Pajero says she can safely cross something up to 60cm deep, so to this point the water crossings were more of a novelty than a concern. Until I came to the Durack river. It was there that I met a German fellow standing next to river driving a little all-wheel drive car... swearing in German. We inspected the river several times. I walked through the 20meter track I would drive and carefully measured the depth of the water. 58cm. Half of my engine would be submerged, along with the exhaust. After about a half hour of deliberation I decided to throw caution to the wind and give it a go. Worst case scenario, we could just push it through if I got stuck.

And I made it. The truck made a little wave when it hit the water, and I ambled along slowly in its wake trying to match the same speed. The German fellow held his breath the entire time. Once I'd crossed we tried to sort out ways to get his car across. He ended up turning around, guessing that the water would engulf the computer in his car, effectively parking it for good. Probably a wise choice...



But the real drama came when I came to the second river crossing. The Pentecost river is right at the end of the Gibb road. About 100 meters across, it looks daunting from the start. It doesn't help that there are "beware of crocodile" signs posted everywhere to keep you from testing the water. Previous reports I had seen had listed the depth of the river at 50cm, though it was tough to tell given the width. A very helpful Australian couple who had just crossed in the other direction decided to stick around with me in case I didn't make it.

If I decided I didn't want to cross it, I would have no choice but to return 500km in the direction I came and then go an additional 1000 km detour around the whole region.

I decided to risk it. The parting words of the helpful Australians as I left the west bank of the river were "If you get bogged, don't get out of your truck. There are crocodiles in the river. We'll go for help." Not exactly reassuring, considering the last sheep/cattle station was at least an hour back.

At the first quarter marker, the water was already well over the height of the hood of the truck. Instead of the rumored 50cm deep, this was more like 90cm in depth. I winced as I continued onwards in terror, dreading the possibility of an engine stutter. If the engine stalled I would be screwd. Trudging through the mucky water, jerking wildly as I bounced over the unseen rocks below, I could see water start to pour in around my feet from under the doors. Please keep going, please keep going. By the halfway point the hood was back above water, and truck was still plugging away. When I finally creeped out onto the east bank of the river, I parked for a minute to let the water drain from the truck and some of the adrenaline work its way through my system. I shouted a thank you across the river to my would be rescue team, and continued onwards. So far the truck seems to be running perfectly (or at least as well as it was running before) save for one curious issue... Instead of burning oil, the running engine smells like sugar cookies.



This is easily the most reckless and irresponsible choice I have ever made.
And oddly one of my proudest moments. What a blast!

Apr 13-14: Broome

With just over 12,000 people, Broome is likely the biggest town I'll see in the month of April. I'm aiming to take a few days to psych myself up for a big decision.

There are 2 roads leading to Darwin.
- The Great Northern Highway
- The Gibb River Road

Cutting through the heart of the Kimberleys, the Gibb River road is supposed to be one of the last untamed adventures in Australia. It is currently open only to 4wd vehicles, though those restrictions relax in the dry season. There are a handful of river crossings required, along with a couple of steep hill climbs.

I am just on the cusp of the wet season and dry season, so my decision will depend heavily on the depth of the water, the weather forecast, and how brave I'm feeling when I hit the fork in the road.

Apr 11-12: Karijini National Park

Tucked in the heart of the Pilbarra region, Karijini National Park is a national treasure. Deep rocky mountain gorges plunge into the earth, showered with cascading waterfalls, and punctuated with swimming pools of cold spring water.

As we push into the Australian fall, the temperature here as dropped to a sweltering 35 (gasp) degrees celsius. Every time I get out of the air conditioned truck, it feels like I'm melting.

Apr 5-11: Exmouth and the Cape Peninsula National Park

Exmouth is the gateway to a series of campsites along the Indian ocean (kind of like Jasper is to the Rocky Mountains). There are a handful of different beachside locations up and down the coast, all of which give you immediate access to beach and the ocean. I spent my time at the picturesque Osprey bay.

This is a shared campsite, where you get to spend your time with a handful of other campers, and a small group of kangaroos. The first one to approach me was a female with a heavily laden pouch, who came up to me while I was sitting down and put her front paws up on my knee. How do you deny a pregnant mom food? I gave her a carrot. She and some of her family came to spend the next few days with me.

I spent HOURS in the water every day, happily snorkelling to and fro, examining all of the curious and wonderful things I could find. There were all kinds of fish, timid giant green sea turtles, and a pair of reef sharks. Swimming alone, 300 meters of the shore holding my tiny plastic camera, when I saw shark that was the same size as me, I decided to hightail it back to shore.

My time in the water caught up with me, and cut short my snorkelling adventures when I got an ear infection. It is probably for the best... I'm not sure I would have ever left this place.

Apr 4-5: Coral Bay

I feel like I've been waiting my whole life for this precious handful of days. The Ningaloo reef is kind of like the little cousin of the Great Barrier reef, equally endowed but far more accessible. The snorkelling off the beach is world class, not to mention the fact that it is one of the few places where Whale Sharks are known to congregate regularily during the coral blooming season.

Whale sharks are the earth's biggest known fish growing to a full size of 18 meters, the size of a school bus. Unlike whales, they have gills and do not need to surface. They eat plankton and other tiny marine life, and are generally indifferent towards people.

I must admit I gagged just a little to hear that a whale shark tour was going to be $390. Choking a little, reminding myself it is a once in a lifetime experience, I decided to suck it up and go for a ride. For the price of admission, the boat takes you out to see, waiting for a small plane above to spot a whale shark. Once spotted, the captain immediately takes you to shark. Your group hops in the water somewhere in front of the shark. As the whale sharks comes past, you swim (more or less as fast as you can) alongside it for 2 to 3 minutes. Then boat scoops you up, and ferries you ahead of the shark again another couple of times. You also do a little bit of reef snorkelling before and after the tour... but really you are paying for about 10 minutes in total with the shark, who doesn't really care that you are there to visit with him.

It is worth every penny.

I got in the water the first time with a group of 11 other snorkellers. As the whale shark approached, our guide gave us a quick set of directions, and then we dunked our heads underneath and started swimming madly in the same direction in the open water before an enormous wall of green with white spots snuck in front of us. It was only 30 seconds or so before he started to dive and we lost sight of him in the depths.

When we got in the water the second time the group was split so it was a more intimate team of six swimmers. Prepared for the exercise this time, I was thoroughly delighted to find that when I dunked my head underwater, the enormous whale shark was bearing directly at me, and I barely had enough time to get out of its immediate path. I swam next to it for maybe 3 spectacular minutes until, utterly exhausted, we gave up the pursuit.

My third dunk was more hilarious than adventurous. Based on the choppy conditions, I think I drank about 3 litres of salt water through my snorkel. Laughing, swimming, choking, and still swimming at full speed, I was determined to make the most out of my precious whale shark time.

It is such a magnificent and splendid creature, peaceful and serene. With better publicity, these guys would easily restore the broken reputation of sharks everywhere. I met some great people, I saw a huge shark, and I even got some exercise. Just another amazing day in Australia.

Apr 2-3: Monkey Mia

I've been trying to do as much of the trip as possible on personal recommendations as opposed to sorting through all the various promotional devices. Upon asking Western Australians about spots to visit on my way through, I was surprised to hear several people tell me to skip Monkey Mia. As part of Shark Bay it is part of a World Heritage protected area, where you can visit a living working colony of stromatalites.

There was no way I was going to miss the stromatalites. A thin layer of cyanobacteria just under the surface of the water, these organisms are the first living things we know of on the earth. They perform a primitive sort of photosynthesis and are responsible for converting our atmosphere from being primarily noxious and to oxygen laden. This is one of the only places in the world you can see a living colony of them. As they die off, their bodies calcify and produce these lumps of stone in the water, often likened to cauliflower.

On a slightly more popular note, that put me within an hour of Monkey Mia about an hour before sundown, making it one of the only reasonable spots to camp for the night. I decided to park there to see the morning dolphin feeding. Every morning, a group of wild dolphins come in to shore to visit with the tourists. Despite my reservations and the anti-recommendations, I'm glad I stopped.