After sitting around for a few hours in Broome’s “International” airport (why do they do that?), we did leave on a jet plane and consequently, returned to Kununurra in an almost instant.  I had been expecting propellers and a longer journey.  After a bit of mucking about we found a taxi, found it was Kununurra’s BIG rodeo night (driver assured us happily that she wouldn’t be picking anyone up there tonight), found we didn’t have the energy to go to it, found our caravan park, found ATGANI in one piece and found we needed sleep.  After all, said Scarlett, tomorrow is another day.

We had a busy schedule of economy-boosting activities in and around Kununurra and so set out on the first of our adventures, this time with Triple J Tours.  Jeff, Jenny and (maybe) Jamie have cornered the market on tours in, around and about Lake Argyle and the Ord River scheme.  They showed us an old homestead/museum, an infinity pool at Lake Argyle caravan park, the big rock and clay wall of the dam itself and some sights along the way.

So, what were the highlights of the day?  First, being told that “I don’t count you back on to the bus – if you’re not on in time, I’ll leave yez behind”.  Second, “If you want to know about the Ord scheme, you’ll have to ask a question – I don’t have a prepared script”.  A fast 55km boat ride took us down the river itself and back to Kununurra at sunset and, of course, I did ask about the Ord.

As Jeff told it, the 2-part damming operation is not a “white elephant”, as is so often reported – there’s just been a couple of miscalculations along the way!  The plan was to irrigate these rich black soil plains which only needed water to make them shine and to make them the food basket for Australia and beyond.  Turns out that it’s good for growing melons, some root vegetables and mangoes – OK, but hardly sufficient.  Rice was the initial crop destined for Asia but the birds ate it faster than it could be planted.  Sugarcane yields were high but politics scuppered that (QLD & WA – surprise me!).  Cotton worked but monoculture didn’t and we’re now told that one of the major crops is sandalwood!  Sandalwood – that’s a primary producer tax deferral scheme and you can’t even eat it!  Lake Argyle is enormous and the water used for irrigation is still under 12% of its capacity.  The next proposed “phase” leaks into the NT, with consequent territorial disputes.  And who would have thought – out here, freight costs are an issue.  I came away having learned almost nothing of substance and incredibly disappointed – there must have been vision here once, certainly there’s been investment, but what a shambles!  And yet, in a truly dry place for 9 months of the year, there’s now abundant and affordable water.  White elephant felt too generous.  Can it be redeemed? *

Ord River Rant over, we moved to looking at stuff that people probably couldn’t stuff up.  The Bungle Bungles were within driving distance but we’d put some future stakes in the ground at Karajini NP, so time was a bit limited and we had lots of places and distance yet to cover.  Naturally, we took to the air again.  You know we love a helicopter, but this time it was fixed wing travel down to Purnululu NP and the opportunity to see the land from above.  Completely mesmerising!  To my delight, we were the two “left-over” passengers so we didn’t fly in a Cessna 208 Grand Caravan but in a tiny Gippsaero GA8 Airvan with the pilot and the chef for that night (different people you’ll be pleased to know).  This was infinitely less comfortable, infinitely more fun.  The views over Lake Argyle (it’s really big), the vast cattle country further south stretching out to the Tanami Desert  and then the Bungles themselves were wonderful and we were excited about walking in a couple of the gorges.

We’d chosen to stay overnight at the Savannah Eco Lodge – accommodation and board were ordinary (I’ve worked out that eco means no aircon) but the friendly staff were fabulous.  Our guided hiking group set out to Cathedral Gorge and a closer look at the beehive rocks.  This time, it’s massively eroded sandstone with iron oxide (rust) for the orange stripes and cyanobacteria for the black stripes.  If there’s an explanation for the striping being horizontal, we missed it.  The gorge itself is magnificent but the best bit was being able to introduce non-Android people to the joy and wonder of the vertical panorama (thanks Grant).

The next day we were scheduled to hike Echidna Gorge on the other side of the park but, sadly, a mild migraine attack overnight (mild? Of course, it’s not my head) meant we went nowhere, except to rest at Savannah and to fly back to Kununurra that evening.  We got a good look at our target gorge from the air, which was some consolation.  We also flew over the now defunct and being rehabilitated Argyle Diamond Mine – fortunately, headache or not, pink doesn’t suit Lesley.  Our caravan park backed on to Mirima NP which is widely known as the Mini Bungles.  A quick hike into there and a good photo and no-one would ever know you hadn’t travelled all the way to Purnululu – but we wouldn’t have missed the real thing for anything. 

Less happily, our caravan park and indeed, all of Kununurra, had some problems.  Alcohol sales here are restricted, bottle shops are only open Mon-Sat noon to 8pm, 3 bottles of wine per identified person or 1 of spirits plus 30 cans of beer (seems enough for one night),  and that applies over much of the Kimberley and Pilbara.  The next morning, the van three up from us was being dusted for fingerprints after an overnight break in.  The thieves had cut through the flyscreen, entered the van and taken the car keys, all while the occupants were sleeping.  Luckily, someone disturbed them before anything else was taken and the forensic cop opined that the cord running from the car to the van spoke of booze in the Engel.  Happens every night at one of the caravan parks, he said, and the “camp” is only 500m up the road, suggesting he’d already decided or knew who was responsible.  I couldn’t help wondering that if the problem was as systemic as this, whether actually catching the culprits was the objective.  It’d be soul destroying detective work if your success was rewarded with no effective, enduring “fix”.  No criticism of the police here: this looked like an intractable problem, resolvable only by the aboriginal community itself – sadly, my hopes remain low.  Keys and wallets under your mattress was the recommended but unsatisfactory solution!    

Frivolously, we had our own problems too!  The Gibb River Rd awaited us – all talk of this 500km stretch of horrendously rough dirt road hinged around what would break, what would hurt and how many flat tyres we would suffer.  Fortunately, I’d been talking to some people who had just completed the journey, coming from left to right.  An eminently sensible man assured me that if I took a bit of care, let my tyres down to a ludicrously low 22psi and was vaguely sensible it would all be fine.  His rig was similar to ours, so that was encouraging, but what sealed his eminence grise status was when he, ironically, finished our chat by asking what could possibly go wrong?

*Answers on a postcard.