Hitched a Ride into Kalumburu Mission Town

Saturday 8^th June 2013
Hitched a Ride into Kalumburu Mission Town

Barney - wonderful downtown Kalumburu

The road was in pretty good condition for a bush track out to nowhere; we do pass many flood signs along the way but this year there had not been any flooding.

MrJ does the tourist pose outside the Kalumburu Mission

Kalumburu is a small community village out in the bush in far north W.A. It had many clean, tidy tin dwellings with probably a population of a couple of hundred people, no more. Kalumburu is run by the Catholic Mission, which move the people there in the early 1930’s from Pago. The Mission had a large fenced compound with the original buildings still being used. A main building with office, the church and other buildings which in one housed the museum with a huge collection of artefacts and native paintings, bits and pieces of old things from the past and old things that had been brought back from overseas trip that the original Father had made. Some of the other old buildings were the old hospital (no longer being used), the church and a recreational hall used by the local people. The grounds were well kept and surrounded by a high fence with an archway for the front gate.

a male bonding moment

Before doing taking the self guided tour of the Mission Glen pulled at the local fuel station; it was run by the Mission and the priest was the man to fill our tanks. A very nice young man who told us that his wife and child had gone back to the city after being out here for some months and that he still had another 14 months to go with his posting. His wife was not able to cope with the isolation. There were a few other older white people helping at the Mission; clerical work, nursing sisters and such.

the Kalumburu Mission Café & Store

We had our petrol drums filled and then went into the petrol station shop (a newer tin building) to pay by Efpos. In the shop there were some of the local people were waiting to be served. The shop had a few items on the shelves but what caught my attention was the sign to the side about ordering school lunches and school clothing. Very community orientated!

Kalumburu Mission grounds and buildings from left - recreational hall, the church, main building

Next we took time to wander around the Mission compound. The main building near the front gate was constructed out of large stone bricks; the rest of the buildings including the church were of galvanised iron tin sheets and wooden frames sitting on concrete foundations. There was a nice green lawn in the middle of the compound with a big shady tree to sit under. Around the buildings there were some native and bushland garden features with dirt paths to take you between buildings. MrJ and I went into the museum first (we had to pay $5 per person) and then church. We also paid for the Glen and Barney to have a look in the museum.

The museum was a most fascinating place. Just one large room packed full with all kinds of interesting stuff. Local people’s paintings and Boab tree nuts engraved, rock etchings and carvings, old time things from WWII, some of the old original stuff that was from the old Pago Mission had been brought up to the Mission.

This included glass ware, crockery, old 33 records and player, sheet music, typewriters, kitchen utensils, work tools and even an old projector or film machine. There was also an extensive collection of religious items. I was fascinated with the collections old black and white photo.








One particular old WWII air force photo featuring a group of men; one of these men looked like my dad, it could have been him but I doubt it.

old photos of the disbanded Pago Mission

How strange it was to see the international collections; objects from all over the world. The sister that had taken MrJ and me to the museum had told us that the original priest had collected various things from all around the world as a teaching tool for the local people at the Mission; he believed that the people should know the work outside their own lands.

inside the church

Inside the bush church were the usual pew seating, altar and a few well worn statues but that was about all that you would say was the same as any other church elsewhere. What made this place of worship unique were a few other things. Things like the huge tree stump for the pulpit, the huge tree knot for the christening bath, small tree knots for collection plates the mixture of traditional catholic art and tradition and not so traditional aboriginal art all blending together. How beautiful!

the back wall inside the church

Across the dusty street was the general store and this was where we did a bit of shopping. Hahaha! Not the kinda shopping that you can do in a city. The general store called the Uraro Community Store sold just about everything but in small quantities and not a lot of variety. They had very little fresh vegetable, well not really all that fresh as everything had to be brought in by barge from Darwin once every two weeks. The packet of soup- mix vegies that I bought had been packed in Darwin, it was written on the tag, the bread labelled Bush Oven Outback Bread was made by Goodman Fielder in North Ryde in Sydney NSW and the frozen piece of steak had come from Alice Springs. A butcher in Alice must have had the meat contract. The bread had been in cold storage as with a lot of the items. It had reminded me of one of those old days corner store but maybe a little bigger and there was even an ATM machine in the corner. Money talks!

There were quite a lot of people in the store, browsing and buying, passing through the checkout that was operated by white people, probably more Mission staff. Shopping in a place like this give you a chance to mingle with the locals who are really very shy people but a little bit curious too. No one was too keen to hang around and talk too much, just a quick hello as they pass. I got lots of big smiles and cheery replies from the little kids and the older people as I would say good morning when passing. I came out with meat, bread and vegies, MrJ bought iced coffee and the boys bough a cold drink each and smokes.


MrJ goes bush

 


From the store Glen droves us back out of town to where the bush aircraft landing strip was, onto a rough bush track behind the airfield to where an old WWII DC3 place had crashed into the scrub.










The wreckage was still as it had been the day it had gone down except the rust had set in with the years and weather.

Our next stop was a small river gorge that was a great local barramundi fishing spot. Before heading back to Honeymoon Bay we had two more stops.

One along another rough bush track to a large rock outcrop that had a small bit of aboriginal art work stained into part of the rock face. The art work looked like a piece of Bradshaw work but I was not too sure what it actually was supposed to be. Our last stop was to call into the McGowan campground which was on the way back to Honeymoon Bay.

Glen wanted to say g’day to Robert, the tradition owner, this gave MrJ and I a great chance to have a sticky beak as we would be getting our diesel from McGowan in a couple more days. Honeymoon Bay and McGowan’s were the only road accessed campsites in Napier Broome Bay that we knew of and McGowan’s was a good place to get fuel.

The Old Campgrounds in Honeymoon Bay

sunrise over Napier Broome Bay

Friday 7^th June 2013
The Old Campgrounds in Honeymoon Bay
14’06.021S – 126’40.899E
Our next anchorage was just around the next bay, 3n/m away. The bay was named Honeymoon Bay, still part of Mission Bay and it had a small dry-season campground run by a fella named George. The guide books said that a fella named Les was the person to look out for but apparently he is no longer at the campground.

Honeymoon Bay campground

George, Glen and Barney netting bait fish

the old beach camp hut at Honeymoon Bay with big Boab trees left and right

MrJ steers AR around the reef covered point and into Honeymoon Bay. As AR is motoring into the bay a tinny with three fishermen on board was heading out. They came close and one older fella, who I find out later, was that George and the other two younger fellas are George’s son Glen and his mate Barney, tells us of the rock reef close to AR’s STB side. MrJ turns the boat more to port and I thank the fishermen. We drop close to the beach at the campgrounds in 7mt of water near a high tide. A few hours later the fisherman return with their catch but it was late in the afternoon before MrJ and I went ashore.



one of the camp sheds

The Honeymoon Bay campgrounds was little more than a few bush tin shed type awning construction set back on the side of a rough rocky incline, with bare flat ground beside these sheds to either park your camper, erect a few tents or use the inside of the sheds as part of your accommodation. At each shed there was a campfire area setup with three-star picket, steel poles to hang your billy from and some wire mess around for protection or you could build your own fireplace. Inside each shed there was a rough kitchen preparation area but the toilet and shower block was separate.

camp with an ensuite

There was also rough tin and wooden beach shack closer to the beach that could be closed up if need be. This shack or hut had its own shower block behind which was also there for boating visitors as well but we had no need with our great showers on board. There was a little area out front of the hut for campfires and cooking outdoors. Further along the beach I came across the remains of old campfires that some people had built just off the beach and not too far away from one of the big Boab tree that populate this area. We could see other larger tin buildings which were set further back above the incline.

Saturday 8^th June 2013
Hitched a Ride into Kalumburu Mission Town

The next morning at the crack of dawn when the soft pink and blue colours are stretched across the sky, the boys go out fishing again. This time they came back with a payload of mackerel and show us before heading to shore. Well done! They also tell us that Glen and Barney would be going into town that morning; if we needed any supplies that we were welcome to come along for the drive. I did not need to be asked twice! After a quick tidy up I grabbed my backpack and two shopping bags.



the kinda track you expect in the bush

MrJ grabbed three petrol containers to take with us. At the beach we met four campers at the hut. They were making a bush breakfast over their campfire. One of the campers, a German girl, Liza, offered to give MrJ and I a lift up the dirt road to George’s place. Later I found out that we could have walked up a rough track from the beach; it was all good, this way we were able to have a chit chat with Liza.

Up the top of the small rocky incline where the land flattens out there were three rough buildings in the large area; a large tin shed, a rough looking dwelling and a tidy dwelling up on metal stilts.

 

We were taken to the tin shed where we could see George still cutting up the fish.
There are no fences anywhere. Around the shed and in some parts of the grounds I could see bits of old rusting things. Except for the collection of just about everything that you could imagine, the campground is kept very tidy. Bins are provided for the rubbish which is taken by George on a quad bike to their own rubbish dump.
Between the campsite and the large shed there is a stainless steel fish cleaning table set up under a tree with signs attach for where to dispose of your leftover waste. No fish cleaning was done down on the beach, no fish or shell fish was thrown into the seawater as this would attract a local very large Salty that lived in the bay. No swimming either!

MrJ and I waited and watched George at work filleting and cutting up the morning’s catch while the two boys had their breakfast of fried fish. While we were chatting to George an aboriginal lady with a small girl came in; George introduced this lady as one of the traditional owners, name was Helen. We greet and shake hands. 

George and Helen

Everyone was calling the little girl Roo (may have been a nickname). Roo was calling George dad. So there goes another interesting story that I would have loved to have known.
The boys finish their fish; we four hop into the four wheel drive with Glen at the wheel to head off down the dusty dirt road into Kalumburu about 30ks away.
Kalumburu Mission. (see next posting)

 

 

Sunday 9^th June 2013

The Campers at Honeymoon Bay

MrJ and I had our Sunday cooked breakfast, I did some letter writing and then we went ashore mid morning to stretch our legs. We walked up the beach to stop at the beach hut, stopped to talk to the campers at the beach shack while they were in the middle of making their morning food. I asked Liza nicely would she be able to post my letter at their next town stop. The answer was yes but Liza did say that the next town stop might not be for a week or so. To which I replied that a week or so was much better than a month or so before we were to get to Broome. Haha! Everyone found this remark kinda funny.

top left - Lisa & Roo

MrJ and I walked up through the campsite stopping next to chat more campers; a young couple with son Jack, a toddler not much older that my own grandson Jack. It was funny to run into these people with a little boy Jack on the very same day that I had been writing to family. This small family were local people from Kununurra, a small town between here and Wyndham out at Honeymoon Bay for a week long camping and fishing holiday. Brought back some fond old memories of the days that I used to go camping with all my kids!

 

Me & MrJ with Roo and the big Boab tree

 

I became very fond of the

Honeymoon Bay anchorage, with its very friendly people, the extreme rough bush setting and the lovely clean white sandy beach to walk along. The anchor was holding well in thick muddy sand, AR was sitting good in breezy conditions but we did feel that Mission Cove would have made the better anchorage in strong weather.

Into Napier Broome Bay - Chimney Creek to the Pago Mission – Mission Bay

Thursday 6^th June 2013
Chimney Creek to the Pago Mission – Mission Bay

Chimney Creek Anchorage

The night at the Chimney Creek anchorage had been a peaceful one, no bugs nor crocs coming out to the boat. Oh, there were certainly crocs around; they all stayed out of sight. The landscape on the western side of Cape Londonderry was entirely different to the eastern side. The hills were much lower but just as rocky and there was more, low sandy beach areas. It was also the entrance to Napier Broome Bay.
0520 MrJ and I up anchored to catch part of the incoming tide down into Napier Broome Bay. We passed to the west of the Governor Islands due to the amount of uncharted reef between the islands and the mainland and then made our way down into Mission Bay to dropped anchor (7mts water HW) in Mission Cove near Pago (14’06.420S – 126’42.719E), the site of the old Benedictine Mission settlement.

High tide - low tide

MrJ and I dropped the tinny to go exploring on the high tide. We motored over to the far shoreline to a place where we thought that would be the other side of the extreme shoaling creek mouth. Starting from the thick mangrove lines point we made our way back along the shore in very shallow water skirting around a heap of looming rock reef to where the shallow sandy bottom was more prevalent and we found the gap through the mangrove that lead to a beach scattered with old rusting drums. This was the only guide that we had, was to look for the gap and the drums above the high water mark. The water was so shallow that I could have jumped out and wadder beside the tinny, but I didn’t. MrJ and I felt that it was best to come back on a lower tide so as not to leave us stranded waiting for the tide to come in with the tinny high and dry. The tide was at HW at 0900, the LW was at 1600; too long to be stranded in an unknown place, so we went back at 1500.

The drums on the beach

At this hour of the day the tide was near low and the water had receded a long way out with the shoaling sand. Leaving the tinny anchored way off shore MrJ and I walked the distance across the sand, through the mangrove gap, which was bigger than I had first thought, and up to the beach where I could now see the hundreds of old rusting drums. The heaped up piles of 44gal drums were not confined to the sandy beach area they were also strewn throughout the bushland and along the dirty sand track that lead from the beach.

Before tackling the deep soft sandy track MrJ and I put on our walking shoe but by the time I had returned along the sandy track my shoes were full of dirty sand making lumps and bumps between my feet and my shoes. But why didn’t keep my shoes off you may well be asking? Because #1 the sandy ground was too hot, #2 I did not want to be treading on anything in bear feet and #3 less to carry in case I needed to make a run for it. ;o) Which didn’t happen!
 
The Pago Mission History

In 1906, the Benedictine monks from New Norcia set out on an expedition to find a suitable site for a mission in the eastern Kimberley. This initial survey concentrated on the area around the mouth of the Drysdale River and further inland near the junction with the Barton River.

(photos of photos on the museum wall of the new mission at Kalumburu)

Two years later, the monks returned to the area and, due to several incidents with the local aborigines, established a temporary mission close to the sea at Pago. The Benedictine monks constructed a monastery and wells then established gardens, orchards and a mangrove grove beside a small creek in the south eastern corner of Mission Cove. Supplies were brought in from Wyndham to Mission Cove on the mission lugger "Valadora" and on W.A. state ships off-loading at Sir Graham Moore Island or in the outer part of Mission Bay. It took many years before the missionaries gained the trust of the aborigines, and Pago did not become a significant part of aboriginal life until the early 1920's with a population of around 400 people living there.
The poor soil, and limited water from the nearby creek and the wells, led the monks to explore the King Edward River area for a permanent mission site. After 31 years of struggle, it was decided to abandon the Pago site in 1939, and establish a new mission near a large permanent waterhole at Kalumburu, about 30 km south of Pago.


Bits of the old campground mixed in with the newish camp hut

MrJ and I walked about 500 m south-east along the sandy road past the "campground" buildings which were destroyed by cyclone INGRID in March 2005. In the same location, where the old carriage wheels where on the side of the road there is now a newish built camp hut that looked like that it had been used fairly recently. There was also a solar powered microwave link antenna on the opposite side of the track.  After the hut we walked on a little further along the main track until we came to a junction of another smaller track going off to the left but no mango tree grove as the guide has indicated. Maybe the grass was too thick to find the trees. The grass was certainly too dense to do too much exploring but we did manage to find the ruins of the main mission building, what used to be the two story living quarters.

all that was left of the old Pago Mission main building

All that was left was the floor of the building, made from local sintered shells (concrete), still in good condition and as the guide had said, the 100 year old wooden uprights were still standing. It must have been a very hard life for them.

the sand flat

Not wanting to be away from the tinny for too long as the tides was still going out, MrJ and I returned to the drum riddled beach via the same track. I was still not too relaxed about venturing across the wet shoaling sand; thoughts of some huge croc that would come charging out from the mangroves were going through my mind but all we saw and had to tread carefully to avoid squashing any were hundreds of tiny solider crabs darting for cover in front of our footsteps.
Safely back in the tinny which we did have to drag off the sand flat, MrJ and I made a hasty B-line for AR.

Microwave link tower on Bluff Point

 

Over the Top of WA to Chimney Creek

Wednesday 5^th June 2013
Over the Top of WA to Chimney Creek

Red in the morning is a sailor’s warning; once more the heavens spread a rich colour across the sky before and during the sunrise.

I surveyed our location; there were no signs of our dinner guest.
0650 MrJ and I were weighing anchor to begin our short passage around the northern tip of Western Australia, Cape Londonderry. It was another glorious morning with the promise of another great day’s sail although the wind was not in our favour for parts of the way. We had worked out what the tides were doing on both sides of the Cape, both very different and happening at different times.

0725 as AR was clearing the northern point another sailing boat came out of Glycosmis Bay, the next bay on. It was an Elite Tasman 37; Blue Bones from Wyndham, returning home after spend several weeks in the Kimberley’s. I spoke to them on the VHF channel 16 and the man behind the mike was able to tell me a little about the passage around the Cape. Keep close in he was saying it is of no use trying to go out to sea as the effect of the tidal flow goes out for maybe 50-60 even 100n/m at times. He also was saying that they had come around three days ago the day before the strong winds; it had been a little testy but Blue Bones did not get any green water over the bows. I thanked him and wish him a safe sail home and MrJ and I sailed on in a better frame of mind.

tried trolling for a short time

passing Cape Londonderry

Our tidal calculations must have been fair accurate and the wind was in our favour, not much blowing as AR’s passage around the top was a good one. Not the horrific ride of the stories that other boaties had told us.






There was most certainly a marked difference in the sea action a definite line across the sea but the not the angry turbulence that we were expecting. AR rode through the sloppy mess beautifully!

Besides the sloppy sea, the only other sign that was to indicate any major disturbance was the large amount of seaweed that we found float across the water. It was everywhere! The seaweed must have been ripped from its holding by the strong tidal actions in the area of Cape Londonderry and the many rocky reefs around the Stewart islands. MrJ and I had bring the trolling line in.

Continuing to follow the coastline around we were now heading in a SW direction until passing Cape Talbot then turning south still following the coastline till we came to an anchorage, marked by friends Ruth and Jock, at Chimney Creek (13’52.644S – 126’47.177E) where at 1650 we put down our anchor for the night.

MrJ and I were now officially on the western side of this great of Australia!

sunset at Chimney Creek

 

Sea Horse Bay – Guess Who Came to Dinner?

Monday 3^rd June 2013

Sea Horse Bay – Move Anchorage

sunrise at Seahorse Bay

0500 HF radio sked and the Americans are back on board. There was not even a peep from the SICYC crew. And no bugs to clean up!
This day we were bless with one of the biggest reddest sunrises that I had seen for a while. Maybe blessed is not the right word for sailor to be using about a red sunrise, knowing what Mother Nature’s warning means; most certainly it was spectacular. The morning light snuck in over the eastern point and the small island off the point with a heavy cover of cloud on the horizon and a slice of moon making its way up the sky. With the morning brought a tinge of pink across the sky and a slight red glow at the base of the cloud mass. As the dawn unfolded the glow intensified through the clouds to a mass of redness stretching up to the heavens and spilling dark red blood across the sea. This stage show in the sky held its performance for no more than half an hour before gracefully fading through the curtains.
By 0900 the strong winds, 25knt plus, had kicked in forcing MrJ and I to retreat to the comfort of inside where I was happy to keep myself busy at the computer. The strong winds keep at us as was the fetch from the sea, coming at AR from the little bay out front. MrJ and I decided to move AR further into Sea Horse Bay to calmer waters. This is the real boating life............!!
There I was standing on the forward deck with the strong winds blowing, blowing hard enough to blow my hat off which was secures by the tie under my chin and was now nearly chocking me but I could not remove the hat or loosen the tie for fear of the terrible winds taking it away. I was standing there with one hand holding the genoa line and the other hand I was using to ready the anchor winch and bridle, letting go the first hand only to secure the bridle and then grabbing hold of whatever my hand felt first which just so happened to be the electrical cord of the anchor winch device which was already in my other hand. Just meant that I had to keep myself balanced with my feet and hope not to be rocked off balance.
The chain was so tight with the wind and sea pushing AR back that to get the anchor up MrJ had to keep driving AR forward making the chain a bit slack in order to not put any unwanted extra strain on the winch. Anchor up and away we went we motored further into Sea Horse Bay a bay that has no chart readings, relying on the depth sounder and our eye sight as the only guides. About a mile further in and a little closer to the shore was where we found calmer water and a little wind protection behind some high rocky ridges. (Inside Seahorse Bay 13’56.479S – 127’03.137E) The anchorage was good holding of muddy & sand in 4-5mts and we arrived there just in time for morning tea. How’s that for luck? ;o)
This was to be our new home for a couple of days while waiting for the strong winds to abate.


new neighbour lurking

During the afternoon the winds had dies off enough to allow MrJ and I the pleasure of being able to sit out in the cockpit again. I was doing some sew chores with the restitching of the Velcro on our insect screen. That done and it was put up in place again covering the hatchway into the saloon left me relax time to continue my book reading. I was reading “A Beautiful Place to Die”, a great detective story set in South Africa during the 1950’s. A very powerful crime story which uses the story of murder to show the history and politics of SA with a lot of understanding and empathy for those caught up in the ramification of apartheid. A great read, it had me completely absorbed when our visitor arrived.
Late in the afternoon as the sun was preparing to do a slow dive over the hills we had a visit from a very quiet character, our new neighbour I think. Our new neighbour; a 3mt Saltwater Crocodile came in the silence for sticky-beak. The Salty had stealthily swam down the port side and was casually sliding through the water out the back when MrJ first spotted him (I’m saying him because of the size) with most of his head, back and tail raised out of the water. I had been told by the guide at the croc farm that croc’s lift their back out of the water to show that they are boss, not a threat just a warning. The sight of a large salty at our back door startled me from my reading and into action; I had jumped up, dropped the book and was retreating towards the doorway.

watching the sunset

MrJ had his camera in hand but by the time I went inside and had grabbed mine the Salty had dived under the water and disappeared. Too much noise and movement from one crazy lady is what he must have been thinking. Hahaha!

Tuesday 4^th June 2013

Seahorse Bay - Guess Who Came to Dinner?

look how calm and inviting Seahorse Bay was

I had laid in bed till the dawn had broken and had listened to the scratchy squawking of the HF radio as MrJ twirled the knobs. Only the faint unreadable sounds of the Americans again. This was also the time of day that MrJ would start the generator to recharge AR’s battery supply our electricity supply.
The generator had not been working properly since the Berkeley River and the only way to get it to stay connected to the battery charger (I am not using the correct technical terms here) is to give the battery charter a big boost with one of the boat engines first and then connect the genny. (MrJ has probably explained this procedure much better than I can in his own blog).
This day the genny was not having a bar of it and MrJ was getting frustrated with all the stop/starting of engines, battery charger and genny. Time and time again he would go through the process till everything went according to plan; I think it took about six goes till everything was okay. Meanwhile I had headed out front, out front away from the noise and mayhem, out front to the peace and quiet of the deck and my morning exercise routine.
No Mr Salty was seen either!
The strong winds have kicked in again around the 0700 make but AR is well protected on anchor; MrJ and I will sit and wait.
The morning was spent in making two screen guards for the back scoops/step area on AR. This was to help deter any unwanted visitors. We cut out the screens from some blue rubbery material that I had stored on board that was going to be used for I could not remember what, it was that long ago and we had probable decided to use something else. Great explanation!

MrJ hard at work making new screens

We had finished and had both screens in place before lunch. In the afternoon I went on with sewing and washing chores; washing bedding and scrubbing the dish drainer. All this was done while I sat out forward on the tramp using the seawater to wash with then using a small amount of fresh water for the final rinse. The sewing, I was by hand sewing, making myself a new cover for my back cushion on the saloon lounge out of a piece of material that I had found while looking for the rubber material. MrJ went back to reading his book, we had found Radio Nation on the little radio and the afternoon went by peacefully.

At sometime during the afternoon I had precooked a pot of rice to be able to make our dinner; it was to be an Asian type flavoured tuna and rice with peas and corn. I would have all the flavours of my home grown pot garden; Thai coriander, Thai basil, chives and lemongrass as well as onion, garlic, chilli and ginger with a dash each of fish sauce, mirim sauce and soy sauce for good measure. I would be making enough for two meals.
As always, I rinsed all cooking implements out under the sea water tap and stacked to the side for washing up after our dinner. In doing this process I had also rinsed the emptied cans, tuna, peas and corn with the sea water letting the messy water wash down the sink drain hole and into the sea. I have always been particular about cleaning up and getting rid of any unwanted stuff that will cause a bad smell throughout the boat. I then went happily about finishing the cooking and served our evening meal which we usually eat out at the cockpit table. The aromas of the hot food, not to forget the delightful titbits that had been flushed done the sink had been too much of a temptation for our new neighbour.
Our new neighbour had decided to join us for dinner only I thought it was us that would be his dinner!

Mr Salty tried to launch himself up the STB steps; thank-god for the screen and the plastic garbage bin which I don’t think the croc saw in his attempt to get on board; it was very dark out the back.
The first MrJ and I knew of anything happening as we sat in the quiet and peaceful atmosphere enjoying our candlelight dinner was when there was a big bang behind us as the bin received a serve jolt and the croc slid of the steps. We were off like rockets, flashing lights and making a terrible din but Mr Salty (and he looked bigger than 3mts in the dark) stayed still right near the step and it was not until I used the bright flash of the camera right in his eye that the croc went under the boat and away.
After that little fright we kept the back lights on and put extra lights in my platter boxes by both steps. But I could not go back to sitting out near the back and found it more comfortable huddled in the top corner of the cockpit wondering what I would have done if the big old croc had of made it on board. #1 I was not going to get close enough to the croc to give him a few hard wallops on the snout.
#2 I would probably have retreated inside to lock the saloon doors to Mr Salty to do as he had pleased hoping that the damage would not have been too bad and that he would have been able to find his way out again.
Reminded me a bit of when we had the big bull sea lion on board in Galapagos both very dangerous animals only this big bugger might have wanted me for his dinner. Cheeky buggar!

thank goodness for the great sunset