Page 28: Still in Cairns.
The middle of July - the dry season - was miserably wet in Cairns. When you live in a plastic box, albeit a very comfortable box, you begin to go stir-crazy after a while if it rains incessantly. We had been used to seeing cloud hide the mountain peaks, but for days the clouds came right down the mountains and we lived in constant drizzle bringing back childhood memories of a holiday in South Wales. Only Cairns was warm and there were no soggy sheep roaming the streets.
When
we first saw the vine (right) hanging from a tree branch we took it
to be a rope, probably
used by kids. A closer look showed it to be a vine . . . or perhaps
two very affectionate vines.
The
Judas System
This story has no connection to Cairns, but I might as well tell it
to you while we wait for the rain to stop. In Australia, 'introduced'
species such as cats, foxes, rabbits, horses and camels can create serious
problems in the fragile environment if allowed to run wild and breed.
In this story it was feral donkeys that were causing the trouble - many,
many donkeys. Too many donkeys.
Last year our buddies, Ross and Jan, were on a tour of the Bungle Bungles
in the north of Western Australia. This vast region is covered in large
outcrops of rock. Ross and Jan had heard about the donkey problem but,
as the tour progressed, had seen nary a one. They queried the tour guide
as to the location of these beasts. "All gone", was the reply.
Ross and Jan were astounded. How was it possible to eradicate so many
donkeys from such a vast maze of rocks? The answer was unbelievably
simple. The story goes something like this:
The rangers charged with dealing with the donkey problem sedated a 'jenny'
donkey by shooting her with a tranquilliser dart from a helicopter.
Before the donkey could recover they fitted a collar around her neck.
The collar was equipped with a small radio transmitter. Then they went
home.
A few days later they took the helicopter and homed in on the transmitter.
'Jenny' had rejoined her pals. The rangers shot them all except the
'jenny', then they went home.
Some time later they again took the helicopter and homed in on the transmitter.
The 'jenny' had now joined up with another mob of donkeys. The rangers
shot all except the 'jenny', then they went home. And so it went on.
In the fullness of time there were no more donkeys left for the poor
'jenny' to join up with, she was all alone. So the rangers shot her
and then they went home.
A sad story; the poor donkeys were not to blame. We, the human race,
had introduced them to a continent where they had no place. It's a shame
we're not smart enough to eradicate the cane toad which we also introduced,
and which is now destroying Australian native fauna over a huge area
of the north east and spreading west.
In Cairns, the Rain Continued to Fall.
One solution to the damned rain was to go out, weather or not, and visit
some more dammed water. Lake Morris is situated high in the mountains,
twelve kilometres south west of Cairns city which it supplies with drinking
water (for those who haven't yet discovered red wine). Pam and I had
visited the lake, also known as the Copperlode Dam, the previous year
and we covered it on Page
13. Mother Nature favoured us with a reasonably fine day
and we found the lake so full that it was flowing over the spillway.
So while 90% of the Australian continent is in the grip of a severe
drought, far north Queensland is covered in lush, green rainforest and
the Cairns water supply is flushing megalitres of excess water down
the creek.
I've used the 'rollover' trick on the picture below so move the mouse
pointer over the image to change the scene to one of the lake which
we took last year.
Mouse Pointer on the picture:
Lake Morris, as beautiful a scene as you'd find anywhere - 2005.
Mouse Pointer off the picture: Water
flooding over the spillway of the over-full reservoir - 2006.
I have been unforgivably
remiss in not mentioning that we had been joined by two more friends
that we had met in the Northern Territory. Phil and Dawn Sedgmen, who
hail from Mildura in Victoria, had parked their caravan next to ours
in the Cool Waters Holiday Park. Ross and Jan Taylor were on our other
side so we were now six.
One day we all decided to drive up to
the tablelands town of Mareeba in the hope of escaping the rain. In
that we failed miserably but we had a good day never-the-less.
Just out of Mareeba is a very interesting private military museum which
the males in our party found particularly interesting. A little further
down the road is an airfield where 'war birds' are restored and flown.
There we found an old Douglas DC-3 Dakota parked.
The Mareeba Douglas Dakota. (Actually a military C-47 version.)
The aircraft was open
to visitors and, predictably, it was the males of our party who boarded
and were able to sit in the cockpit. The ladies stayed in the car and
probably talked about men never growing up. The Dakota was no longer
in flying condition but I believe it will shortly be restored. It was
not the aircraft itself that captured my imagination, but the story
of another DC-3 which I found printed out and posted up inside the aircraft.
It purports to be fact and it's a great yarn. Part of me wants to believe
it but it's just a little too far fetched. See what you think.
During World War II a DC-3 belonging to China National Aviation Corporation
was caught on the ground by enemy aircraft. While bombs rained down,
Captain Woods and his crew took shelter amongst nearby trees. 
One
100 kg bomb fell right through the starboard wing of the DC-3, exploding
beneath it. The outer wing was destroyed and other damage inflicted
on the aircraft. When the enemy had departed, Captain Woods inspected
the DC-3 and radioed to his base that if another wing could be brought
out and fitted, he thought he might be able to fly the aircraft out.
Unfortunately there was no DC-3 wing available but they did
have a DC-2 wing. It was five feet shorter than the DC-3 wing but it
might do the trick. So they bolted the spare wing under the belly of
another DC-3 and flew it 900 miles to where the stricken DC-3 waited.
A ground crew bolted the shorter DC-2 wing in place and affected other
essential repairs. They called the hybrid a DC-2½. The DC-2½
took off - to everyone's amazement - and successfully completed a test
flight. Not only that, but it stopped off at Chungking on its way back
to Hong Kong and picked up a full load of passengers.
The Douglas DC-2½. Do you think it would fly?
There was another
good war story posted in the cabin of the same Dakota at Mareeba.
This involved an American Army Dakota which had become lost above
cloud and, on descending, found itself over water. The only land in
sight was an island with an airstrip. Nearly out of fuel, the pilot
decided he had no choice and began a landing approach. Meanwhile,
an American P-51 fighter spotted the Dakota and tried to warn the
crew by radio that the island was in Japanese hands. Receiving no
response he dived across the nose of the Dakota. That had no effect
either so the fighter pilot flew in close to the Dakota and tried
to attract the crew's attention. The crew ignored him. In desperation
the fighter pilot gained height then dived on the Dakota, firing his
guns into its engines, causing it to ditch in the sea. The crew had
just escaped into life rafts when the Japs, who had watched the whole
fiasco from the shore, opened fire. The Americans paddled like mad
to get out of range and were eventually picked up by an air-sea rescue
boat which had been alerted by their attacker. The P-51 pilot received
due recognition for his action and was permitted to paint an American
flag on his fighter along with some Japanese and German flags which
were already there. The name of his fighter was Bad Angel.
After leaving the airfield we visited Granite Gorge where we came
across the tamest colony of Rock Wallabies that we'd ever seen.
Pam explaining to a Rock Wallaby that she's
very sorry but there's no food left. However . . .
. . . try over there. Jan still has some.
There were some picturesque
walks around Granite Gorge but they entailed scrambling over large
rock formations while streams surged around their bases. At one point
following the path involved jumping from one boulder to another. Pam
decided that such antics were the province of Rock Wallabies, not
middle aged ladies with arthritis, and so we called it a day. The
cloud descended again as we returned to Cairns, making driving hazardous.
The Crystal Cascades
One fine day - yes, there was the odd one -
we walked up the Crystal Cascades.
The Crystal Cascades is a series of waterfalls
where the Freshwater Creek tumbles down a gorge.
The top centre picture shows the gorge from higher up, looking over
the top of the falls.
And look; the sun is shining!
Lake Morris, described
and pictured at the top of this page, was formed by the damming of
the Freshwater Creek. Drinking water for Cairns is released from the
dam back into the creek bed where it flows down to the water treatment
plant. There, some is pumped out for the city's supply, the remainder
flowing on down the Crystal Cascades until it eventually meets the
Barron River. Before reaching the Barron, however, it flows past the
Cool Waters Caravan Park where we feed the turtles. When these pictures
were taken Lake Morris was overflowing, thus swelling the creek's
flow.
Kuranda.
The weather forecast was positively good for a couple of days so all
six of us took the Scenic Railway to Kuranda, the village in the
rainforest, and returned on the Skyrail. I just loved travelling
up and back, probably more than the time spent in Kuranda. I doubtless
described it all last time we went so I'll tell the story in pictures.
I couldn't resist including this picture
taken from the carriage window.
The pictures below show the train when it stopped at the Barron Falls station so that passengers could alight and view the falls.
Left: Two beautifully
decorated diesel locos hauled the train. We rode in the front coach.
Right: The
station was on a curve. This was the loco driver's view of his train.
Just look at the drop from the ledge the train was on - and it went
down a whole lot further!
The
engine driver waited ten minutes for everyone to take photographs,
then gave an impatient blast on his whistle to hurry us up.
Dawn elected to remain on board as the steps
were steep and her legs were not too good.
The whole journey from Cairns to Kuranda takes an hour and a half
but our destination wasn't much further after the stop at Barron Falls.
Kuranda itself is just about 100% tourist oriented. It is in a beautiful
setting as the name village in the rainforest suggests and
within the village there are plenty of fig trees and greenery. The
village centre seemed to be comprised almost entirely of stalls selling
T-shirts, scarves, pictures, carvings, post cards, decorated mugs,
soft kangaroo toys, ice creams . . . you name it, if it brought in
a buck it was there. The irony was that most of it was made in China
and was being sold to Japanese tourists. Restaurants were also well
represented, of course. The atmosphere was happy and jolly; everyone
seemed to be having a good time.
As on our visit last year, we took time to walk through the Butterfly
Sanctuary. This year I listened to the guide's commentary because
I tend to miss a lot when I'm concentrating on trying to get good
pictures for you, my favourite reader. There are some of
last years pictures at the bottom of Page
13 if you'd like to see some.
Do you know the difference between a butterfly and a moth? I would
have said something like "a moth settles with its wings flat"
or "only a moth flies at night". Perhaps there's
some truth in both, but the correct answer is that a butterfly's four
wings are all separate and can be moved independently. The front wing
of a moth is joined to the rear wing so that they can only move as
one. As a result, a butterfly is much more manoeuvrable and almost
impossible for a bird to catch.
Left: This photo
illustrates the front wings separate, and over the top of, the rear
wings.
Centre: Two dead leaves? No, it's a very
well-camouflaged butterfly.
Right: Screw up your eyes and see two
penguins, back to back.
On this occasion we also visited Bird World where the inhabitants were in a very difficult mood. Every time I'd just composed a picture they would fly away.
"Who's that joker with the camera, Bruce?"
"Dunno, Mate. Wait till he's ready to shoot then vamoose."
The day ends early at Kuranda. The last train on the Scenic Railway leaves at half past three in the afternoon and we were in our Skyrail gondola high above the rainforest soon after it had departed. In fact, we saw the train in the distance as we rose skywards.
Seen from the cable car; the train on the Scenic
Railway returning to Cairns through fifteen hand
cut tunnels through the rock, over some very skimpy-looking bridges
and around innumerable bends.
As Dawn uses a sort
of Zimmer frame on wheels, we found it better to take two gondolas
on the Skyrail home. This left Dawn and husband, Phil, in one car
and the other four of us in another. Phil had told us that the thought
of riding in the cable car terrified him but Phil's a bit of a joker.
He wasn't kidding this time, however, and later declared to everyone
who would listen that he had never been so frightened in his life,
claiming that they were "a thousand feet above the rainforest".
And it didn't help when Dawn stood up to take a photograph, causing
the car to rock. Phil's description of how he felt was typically graphic
and involved a bodily function.
The fact that heights scared Phil to death didn't deter him from riding
that Skyrail. There were other options available but he chose to face
his demons. Good for you, Phil Sedgmen.
The end of a wonderful day. The gondola descends to meet its shadow.
And next, two pictures that are out of sequence . . .
Left: The Weather
Board at the Mareeba Information Centre. Right:
The 'gympie gympie' again.
The picture of leaves on the sign doesn't help much. The forest is
full of similar leaves.
Want to hear a funny
incident that happened one morning? Pam, still in her nightdress,
was re-stocking the caravan fridge with Coca-Cola cans. One slipped
from her grasp and, to prevent it dropping on her foot, she jerked
her leg sideways. The can hit the floor and burst, squirting a jet
of high-pressure Coca-Cola straight up her nightie. You should have
heard her squeal!
And that ends Page 28. The rain in Cairns is still coming down as
we move on to Page 29.