North to the Cape

  Cooktown, Australia
Monday, September 1, 2008

The view from the tent

The beach at Archer Point

I unzipped the tent at dawn, gazed through the palm trees to the wind-tossed waves washing on the long deserted strand and sighed with contentment - the world appeared a safe place once more!






 

A creek on the Bloomfield Track

We had driven north from Cairns to Cooktown, taking the Bloomfield Track, the best sections of which were rough 4-wheel drive trails up and down gobsmackingly steep gradients, through a couple of creeks and passing through the rainforest area of Cape Tribulation.  Stopping for a cold 'tinnie' at the Lion's Den pub, near our destination, we got chatting to people in the know, heading to camp for free at the secluded  beachside spot of Archer Point, just south of Cooktown. We took their advice and chose ourselves a shady spot there to call home for two nights.


 
It seemed idyllic until we sat drinking beer that night

Mick drinking beer with John and Tresna

with Tresna and John, and Marie and John, and the conversation turned to immediate dangers... while a local had been reassuring about our location, Marie (bound for the safety of a night in her truck!) wasn't so sure we would survive the night in the tent: the tide was up, the mangroves weren't too distant, there could EASILY  be a rogue croc just lying in wait... I'd want to watch out sneaking out for a midnight pee... and while they can't open tent zips, they can tear through canvas, no bother... and the snakes like to come out on a warm night, so mind where I put my feet... and did we know we were sleeping under coconut trees? one of those on the head would kill us... did we have a siren to set off if  a croc DID get lucky with one of us?  It was with some trepidation that we trod a wary path back to our apparent death trap, hence my relief on waking to greet the next morn!

 
And we moved our canvas house a way back from the water's edge... just in case!

 

Cooktown lighthouse

Cooktown was a delight.  The last town before the 750 km dirt track through rainforest wilderness to the tip of Cape York derives its name from the stay of Captain Cook, whose ship 'Endeavour' had run aground on the reef back in 1770.  It later experienced a mining boom, before returning  to a being a quiet backwater.  Today it's a sleepy outpost with some well-preserved Victorian buildings, a sleepy waterfront, a few relaxed pubs, a lighthouse on a hill giving views of 'where the rainforest meets the reef', and a wonderfully laid-back vibe.  We took the opportunity to spend a morning in the company of Aboriginal elder Willie Gordon, walking through the bush and boulder landscape that is his community's land.  An educated and wise man of great experience, Willie treads the careful line of preserving his heritage while living in the 'white man's world', with admirable realism in his outlook and goals.  He accepts that his kids and grandkids show more

rock art... doesn't childbirth look fun?!!

interest in computer games than in their ancestors' traditions but recognises the importance of recording at least the stories, encapsulating the beliefs, and the local rock art which he showed us, and which generates a significant tourist income.  Much of the explanation of the art stories went in one ear and out the other, but I just enjoyed looking at the curious figures and symbols and wandering among the peaceful rocky ground.  We spent some time in the relative shelter of two separate overhanging boulders, which struck me as a pleasant spot for a a shady picninc, but which were actually 'birthing rocks' - one for the women to rest in as 'their time' approaches, the other for the childbirth itself - looking at the isolated dusty spot, having cats in stead of kids seemed more appealing than ever!