Monday 10 October 2011

DARWIN - AUSTRALIA

27th Sep - 1st Oct 2011

My HQ and oasis on Mitchell St, Darwin.

Darwin, the Top End, is the capital of the Northern Territories, just 'The Territory' to local Territorians. It has a tropical climate. The daytime temperature averaged about 34 degrees (c) while I was there. It is a famous harbour city not least for having been heavily bombed by the Japanese in 1942. It took more hits on the initial raid than the US Pearl Harbor. I stayed at the YHA which was rather a scruffy ill-equipped joint compared to the excellent YHA in Adelaide. The city has a compact centre ( CBD ) and things tend to happen around Mitchell and Smith Streets, with a new Wharf Precinct development near the harbour at the southern end.


I visited the establishment called Crocosaurus Cove which is in the middle of the main Mitchell Street. Extraordinary place, a bit like the Tardis because it is much bigger on the inside than the entrance suggests. It holds several large old 'salties' in ponds-cum-compounds with underground viewing areas ( left ).  The average age of the crocs is about 80 years old. There are seven big ( about 20ft long ) residents called Burt, Choppa ( who is missing his two front feet; lost in combat ), Denzel, Harry, Wendel plus the loving pair Houdini and Bess re-named Will and Kate in honour of the newly weds. On the left, Burt.



The staff do a daily feeding routine. Being reptiles, crocs, despite their reputation, do not eat much and then only in small sized portions. Big mouth and teeth but small throat. They do, however, have a terrifyingly powerful bite; the equivalent in pressure to the weight of a large truck. In comparison the human bite pressure is about 20lbs. They can go for a long time without eating. They are very territorial and will, normally, viciously attack any living thing which encroaches their space, including unsolicited lady crocodiles.





The public can feed the juvenile crocs using fishing rods with a bit of meat on the line. I don't think you are allowed to take your own tackle with a barbed hook, which would be a lot more fun.
There is also a 'pool' where people ( mainly children ) can swim 'with' these baby crocs. There is a glass wall separating crocs from children, unfortunately.






They also feature what is dramatically called 'The Cage of Death' ( right ). This is a reinforced transparent capsule which a couple of punters can enter and then be lowered into one of the big boy's ponds. The capsule submerges and the punters can dive down to flick V-signs at the 20ft saltie and remain unscathed when the croc retaliates. Friends and relations can view and take photos of the action at the viewing windows below. I watched a couple of young bikini clad girls being dunked in Choppa's pool. Choppa lay on the side at the bottom completely uninterested by all the wild gesticulating by both girls and their parents desperate to get some sensational photos. I think he had gone to sleep ( he is, after all, 80 years old ) and had probably realised the futility of breaking his teeth on the thick perspex long ago.


There is a croc 'museum' which has lots of info and models of most of the different types of crocodiles, alligators and caimans in the world. Crocs in this part of the world were nearly hunted to extinction, but are now protected and the population in the wild has largely recovered. There are also crocodile farms where they are bred for their skins, and most profitably too. Salties tend to live in fresh or brackish water, but can deal with salt water if necessary, hence their name.
I learnt how to tell a crocodile from an alligator ( apart from alligators living mainly in the USA ). There are four give-away signs. The most noticeable being that the fourth front lower tooth of a croc over-laps the upper jaw, whereas it doesn't in a 'gator.
Remember that as you are being dragged below the water.







There is also a comprehensive reptile section. Most of the indigenous snakes, lizards and iguanas etc. are featured including the lethal ( 3rd most poisonous snake in the world ) taipan ( right ), 3 metres long.
I found the freshwater aquarium interesting. It featured, amongst much else, enormous saw-fish which were being fed and caught their prey by battering it or stabbing it with their viciously serrated saw. Also archer fish which, if you held a small morsel of food in tweezers about 4ft over the water, shot an incredibly accurate jet of water to shoot it down and eat it. I could have kept on doing that for ages.



Next day a tour to Litchfield National Park. The big much hyped National Park in the area is the Kakadu, but it is a 5 hour drive away and would, realistically, take two days to 'do it' and with just more of the same as Litchfield which is only a 2 hour drive south east of Darwin.








Our driver/guide was Joey ( left ) who was both extremely knowledgeable about local flora and fauna and had a wicked sense of humour....which became more apparent as the day progressed. Their were 15 of us on the small coach, mainly of the student/backpacker variety and of several different nationalities ( no Germans for once! No other Brits either for that matter ).







We first stopped by the bank of the Adelaide River for a trip in a boat to watch the 'leaping crocs'. This croc ( right ) is a model of the largest beast caught in these parts.











Before boarding the boat we had breakfast and someone ( Joey ) dragged out a couple of pythons to string around the girls' necks. They didn't seem to object too much......and the girls put up a brave show too. I cannot understand the fascination of having close contact with snakes. I was more interested in eating my breakfast, frankly.







Then onto the boat. Those on the lower deck were firmly advised to keep their body parts inboard and under no circumstances to hang their arms over the side........










.....The reason for this became perfectly clear when we got a little way up the river. Crocs appeared gliding out from the banks like semi-submerged u-boats, and they were big buggers who probably knew it was.........











.......FEEDING TIME!













... their jaws made a hell of a 'whoomph' when they bit off the bit of dangling meat. They were bloody close to us, and I was on the upper deck..wisely!










Then into the park proper. There were many 'cathedral' termite mounds of which this ( right ) was one of the bigger ones. This one would have been about 25 years old. Joey encouraged us to pick off a termite and eat it because they have a nice peppery taste, and which several of the more adventurous guys and gals did with relish. One of the boys, an Austrian I think, said he was suffering from a dose of the shits. This was music to the ears of Joey who knew an infallible and rapid Aboriginal remedy. He crushed up two or three fistfuls of termite mound, stirred it up in water and told the poor chap to down it in one go, quickly. He did and wasn't sick, just. I don't know if this remedy was effective but we didn't hear any more from the Austrian lad for the rest of the day.







Left: These are 'magnetic' termite mounds; so called because they are flat sided and point north-south. This is caused by the termites shielding themselves from the morning and evening sun...or something along those lines. They are built on flood plains by a different type of termite to the 'cathedral' mound ones.
We were also introduced to several varieties of tree and ground ant which were 'good' to eat. Some tasted of lemon, some of red wine and some of honey, apparently, because I resisted the temptation to try them. I was worried I might end up having to drink crushed up termite mound.




Then we went to the Wongi rock pool for a swim. OK, it was a bit crowded like Blackpool beach on a sunny bank holiday afternoon, but pleasant to splash around in nevertheless. I thought what fun it would have been to launch an inflatable croc, and it was as much as I could do to restrain myself from yelling "CROCODILE!" and watch people manage to run on water like Tom and Gerry characters.








A delicious picnic lunch seemed to appear like magic  after this, courtesy of the Tour. Most welcome, and none of the food was Joey inspired aboriginal insects or other disgusting 'natural' produce. Proper salad, veg and cold meats, thank you.
I carelessly mentioned witchety grubs to him. He said that they are delicious but, sadly, there are no witchety bushes in this park. Thank goodness.








Right: A pleasant view over the Florence Falls somewhere on route.











On to some more water at the Buley rock pools for another refreshing dip and jumping off the rocks. This time the redoubtable Joey excelled himself. There were two very charming and pretty Danish girls with us. Somehow they got stranded with Joey in a particular pond and he did indeed manage to produce a large plastic crocodile head in the water just as one of them leapt in. Apparently the results were spectacular to behold and just as well, for hygiene reasons, that the poor girl was in the water and downstream of the rest of us. I wish I had been there to see it.





We stopped for beer and a wash and change on the way home at a caff in the middle of nowhere. It had an interesting garden.......( right ).












By this stage Joey was getting a little bit above himself......!
We all got back safely at about 1900hrs. An amusing day out.
The next day I spent wandering around the town.







There are a lot of Aboriginal people ( not allowed to call them Abos, apparently ) in Darwin. They seem just to 'sit around' in small groups either talking, or just sitting. I have not yet seen any of them actually doing a job, not even selling aboriginal knick-knacks to tourists unlike other indigenous peoples. With, no doubt, some notable exceptions they appear to lead a parallel existence with little or no wish to integrate with the 'whitefella'. I was aware that they tend to lead a life of indolence and alcoholism which is encouraged by the dole ( known as 'sit-down' money by some ) and many other government hand-outs. I may learn more about them later.


Left: These are the remains of the original Palmerston Town Hall, near the Parliament building. The town was originally called Palmerston in 1869, and the name was changed to Darwin in 1911. Most of the place was destroyed by cyclone Tracy in 1974 including this building. The ruins have been preserved for old times sake, and as a memorial to all those killed and property destroyed during the cyclone.







Just around the corner is the Northern Territories Parliament Building. It was built fairly recently I believe and is, in my opinion, a hideous monstrosity on the Ceaucescu Romanian lines of architectural merit.
I can just imagine the Territorian MPs sitting at their desks in shorts and flip-flops. They probably wear shirts on formal occasions.
There were signs pointing the way for visitors, but all the doors were locked when I was there ( mid-day ).



I paid a visit to the Aviation Heritage Museum on the outskirts of the town. The centrepiece of the collection, indeed about the only complete major aircraft, is a giant B52 G bomber. This was donated to Darwin by the grateful Yanks in 1991. They play a video in the vast bomb-bay, and there are, incongruously, some Ansett Airlines ( deceased ) steps up to the outside of the flight-deck with a limited view inside. Most of the instruments and fittings have been removed. The only impressive thing about this display is the size of the eight engined monster.



Under one of the wings of the B52 is an original 1980 Australian built Wasp Autogyro ( right ). This was modelled on the successful US made Benson Gyrocopter, but it never flew. I'm not really surprised. I think I spotted the design flaw straight away;  the rotor blades are way too short! They must have misread the blueprint.






Lots of exhibits were just bits of wreckage. This ( left ) is what is left of a 1939 Wirraway CA GP aircraft. Firstly, I've never heard of one before and secondly, I didn't really give much of a damn. Are we impressed?  We were warned not to touch the exhibits; we might damage them!








Likewise this awe inspiring chunk of metal ( right ) which was, once upon a time, part of a Meteor F8 Jet Trainer. Might take a bit of time and imagination to get it airborne again....like dropping it into the sea from 10,000ft.








...and this ( left ) is what remains of a Japanese Zero? ( not sure ) piloted by Chief Petty Officer Ono Wattapiti of the Japanese Imperial Navy, shot down in 1942. He survived the crash and was captured by two aboriginals armed with pointed sticks in Arnhemland, 200kms east of Darwin.
There were other exhibits of such things as a partially restored B25 Mitchell bomber and a few old civilian aircraft. It is an exhibition perhaps lacking in financial backing, but certainly not enthusiasm by it's volunteer group of curators and restorers. It amused me anyway.


I found a few decent places to eat, other than the Oirish Shenannigans who showed the Rugby World Cup games. One eatery, at which I waited 45 minutes for an expensive watery micro-waved steak, was called The Hog's Breath Cafe. It advertised on it's menu 'Boss Hog Mushies- fresh mushrooms dipped in our hand-crafted salt and pepper crumbs cooked to a golden brown and served with tartare sauce'. I wondered who on earth spent all that time 'hand-crafting' salt and pepper crumbs? I didn't have the balls to ask one of the overworked waitresses; they may not have understood. There is also a curious confusion when it comes to eating and smoking areas. Several bars and restaurants are sort of half in and half outdoors. The smoking areas ( at least they have them which is highly commendable ) and eating areas are just divided by a white line. I got bollocked, twice, for eating in a smoking area! I said I hope my eating will not damage their health. They replied that it was just the law.



I took a walk south down the Esplanade, a pleasant garden lined street on the shoreline to Government House ( circa 1870 ) which is a most attractive looking colonial style building. 'Entrance by invitation only', it said, not surprisingly. I was not invited even though I hung around the gate for at least 5 minutes waving and going "Cooeee! Anyone at home?"










Right: Part of the new and very smart Wharf Precinct development, near the harbour, consisting of this ( saltie free ) artificial beach, luxury hotels, restaurants, apartments and other leisure facilities.










All very nice, but like so much of this country fairly covered with rules about what you cannot do. ( No Jumping? I didn't dare do even a little hop for fear of bringing the whole might of the law down on my head ).








I suppose the upside is that, as far as I could see, they do not have a big problem with drunken louts and yobs rampaging about the place. There is certainly a pleasantly noticeable lack of litter and graffiti. It might, however, save time, space and sign-writers' paint to make notices describing what you can do rather than what you can't.











I am having a bit of a problem finding a means of escaping Oz by sea. There appears not to be any passenger carrying vessels bound for southern Asia as I had hoped. On the off chance, I went into a travel agency and asked Raylene ( that's a new one on me, even by Aussie standards ) if she could do some research. I even offered her a reward if she was successful. No luck so far.
Off back southbound on the Ghan again ( Red economy class ) for a break at Alice Springs to explore the Red Centre. At least the bed-bug bites on my hand and wrist have now cleared up. Might even see a kangaroo or two.

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