Stops #28 & 29 - Wyndham and Kununurra

We moved on from our free camp at Saddle Creek towards Kununurra, passing the Quarantine station at the WA border.  These guys are meant to stop the spread of disease and pests from being transferred to WA.  From what we experienced, this quarantine station may as well not be there, as the person tasked with checking our vehicles did not even bother looking in our vehicles or fridges.  As it turned out, despite our efforts to ensure we'd cleaned out our cupboards and fridge, we later discover that we'd unintentionally brought some fruit and nuts across the border, oops.

After passing through the Clayton's check, we soon spot the trees the Kimberley is renowned for, the Boab tree.  The number of trees alongside the roads steadily increase as we head towards Kununurra, providing that unique Kimberley experience.

As we approach Kununurra, our phones chime with the reception of text messages and notifications, and we are relieved that we both have mobile reception at Kununurra.  Unfortunately we are not able to book into a caravan park for the next 3 nights, we're soon finding out that peak season in the Kimberley requires advanced planning and bookings for the popular locations, otherwise our grey nomad friends will have occupied all the spare spots.

We stock up on groceries at Coles, purchase a new 12v TV and purchase a locally grown watermelon.  As we explore and read up on Kununurra, we find that it is a town built on agriculture (vegetables, melons, fruits) and in recent times sandalwood.  The town is heavily reliant on the irrigation channels filled by the Ord River, with the Diversion and Lake Argyle dams controlling the flow of water to the respective feeds. 

With no viable accommodation options in Kununurra, we head up north west to Wyndham for a couple of days.  Booking into the Wyndham caravan park, where we're pleasantly surprised to see a lush, tidy and well equipped caravan park.  The lady owner/manager of the caravan park was friendly, helpful and easy going.  She was also well versed on fishing, as she provided in depth boating and fishing advise to people before us, as well as myself.

The caravan park itself has nice toilets, camp kitchen and a little kiosk.  The overall feeling of the caravan park was relaxing, friendly and easy going, certainly a place we'd recommend to stay at, and one we'd return to.

It is also home to the largest Boab tree in "captivity", a word we found amusing to associate with a tree. Grace took the opportunity to present her news in front of the tree.

There isn't really much to do at Wyndham, unless you are a fisherman and have a boat.  I satisfy the first criteria, but without a boat you are confined to the jetty in town, or fishing from the shore.  Of course up this way, fishing from the shore, in foreign locations is fraught with danger and one must be very careful.

There are no shortage of crocodiles up this way, as we found out when we saw a local boy cruise up and down the river next to the jetty, as we were scoping out the jetty.

The caravan park owner had told me about a spot on the King river that was accessible by land, a mere 30klms away.  What she forgot to tell me was that the track to this place was remote, dirt and heavily corrugated.  And so after grabbing some live bait at the local creek, which the kids love helping me do, we head off to the suggested land based fishing spot.  After trying to drive slowly through the corrugation, I realise that I need to up the pace somewhat, to get to the spot and allow at least an hour of fishing before the sunset.

After stopping a couple of times to check our maps, and seeing a crocodile management trap near the place we were to fish (not very helpful for the nerves), we eventually find a spot near the recommended location.

The place looks very croccie (I know this is not a word, but you get what I mean!!), and is lined with thick vegetation, with the water raging towards the sea.  To ensure we are safe, we fish 10 metres back from the water, through gaps in the vegetation.  This limits our fishing options and will make it interesting if we were to hook a big one.

Out goes the poddy mullet for bait, and it is taken not long after.  Unfortunately my nemesis, the dreaded catfish had taken my only poddy, and it is down to the bony herring as bait.  To summarise the fishing, we only caught catfish.  There were other fish there, as the sun descended below the horizon, we could hear loud slaps from some large fish that I presume to be Barra.  However with the thick vegetation and crocodiles, I was not willing to risk getting down closer to the banks to throw some plastics at the fish.

We pack up as the light dimmed and the midges started to come out in force.  With darkness setting in, we're wary of the native wildlife as we drive along the dirt road.  We narrowly avoid squashing a kangaroo, as I apply the brakes when we get closer to the macropod.  

Further on, noting the Boab trees accentuated by the fading light, photographer Jackie takes some snaps of the Kimberley icon.

We go home fish-less, and don't try seriously fishing at the wharf, due to the strong currents and murkiness of the water.  My desire to catch my first Barra for the trip grows, and I become increasingly anxious and wary that time is running out.  Although we are yet to head deep into the Kimberley, the season for Barra is well past, and the further we head into their "winter" the more difficult it will become to catch one outside of a guided tour.  I'd much more value a Barra caught by myself, on my own terms, rather than with a tour guide.  Having said that, the latter may come into the equation, should my drought continue.

We spend our last day at Wyndham doing more school work, which was painful for me as the "supervisor", as the activities required certain items to measure the weight of objects we didn't have, including a scale.  After improvising and spending all morning on the school work, we head out to The Grotto with our friends the Franke family, who'd come out to Wyndham for a day trip.  

The climb down to the bottom of the grotto was precarious, and once down there, we discover the water level is very low and the water green with algae.  The stench was a clear sign that we should not be swimming, so we skim some rocks on the water, take some snaps and head out of The Grotto.

Next stop on the sightseeing itinerary was the town wharf, where we spot a crocodile cruising up and down the river, oblivious to our presence on the wharf, a reminder that we are in their territory up here.  After a few half-hearted casts with the plastic vibe, hoping to snag a jewfish, we head up to The Bastion, a lookout overseeing an area where 5 rivers (Ord, King, Durack, Forrest and the Pentecost) meet.  We take some snaps as the sun disappears in the horizon, and head back home for dinner.

We ask for a late check out the next day, so we I can finish off the school work with the kids, and once again the lovely lady obliged.  The caravan park made our stay very pleasant, and once again if we'd had a boat, the fishing would have been fantastic.  Unless you are willing to drive through some rough dirt roads for some further sightseeing or fishing, or have a boat, then a day trip to Wyndham would suffice.

Arriving at Kununurra Kimberleyland caravan park, we meet up with Wayne and Caroline, who'd been there for a while.  Wayne had already scoped out some fishing spots for us, so after setting up the site, we head off to the famous Ivanhoe Crossing, hoping to break both our duck with the Barra.  

The water level of the crossing was not too high, and the Land Cruiser crossed it with ease.  Having crossed to the other side, there did not seem to be any deep holes or sections to fish, so we decide to explore a path running alongside the river.  

We settle on a spot a few klms down river, overlooking an area we thought might hold some fish.  The spot has deep water and a high bank, with clear running water streaming from some rapids around the corner.  We scope the area out for crocodiles, as they are regularly spotted below the Ivanhoe crossing.  Once satisfied there are no crocodiles in our immediate vicinity, we set up our rods and start casting away, remaining on the lookout for our reptilian friends.

After a number of casts in varying directions, we see a large dark shadow emerge from the log from which we'd been fishing from.  All we saw was the silhouette of a large fish chasing our lure as we finished our retrieve.  We look at each other with eyes and mouth wide open.  We had proof that they were around this area, providing further encouragement to the struggling anglers.  We cast furiously around the area the fish was sighted, to no avail, but we now know they are around.  I venture further upstream to further explore locations, and spot further fish in the water.  Once again, I can't elicit a strike, and my frustrations grow.  I hear a growl from Wayne, and he lets me know that he'd had a strike but it failed to find the hook, adding further frustration to our attempts.

Darkness sets in, and the mozzies come out in force.  We head back to the caravan park, despondent that we did not catch a fish, but encouraged by the sighting of some good fish.  We decide to come back early the next morning for another crack.

Next morning, I knew I had to change my tact to elicit a strike from the Barra, as what we were doing the previous afternoon was obviously not working.  The fish saw our minnows and soft plastics, but were either too slow or not interested in them.  The water is cold, which may explain their lethargy and lack of interest, so anything they will hit must be in the zone in front of their very noses, for an extended period of time. With this in mind, I thought I would try a soft plastic shrimp I had previously purchased on sale Darwin.  This shrimp is lighter than the minnows I'd been using, and can also be placed in front of the fish with a slow retrieve.

We arrive at our spot at 5:30am the next morning, fresh country air in our face, insects hovering over the water.  I'd pre-rigged the previous night, and was on the spot immediately, whilst Wayne rigged his gear.  A few casts in, I hook up, and immediately know it is not a big fish, however it provides a spirited fight.  Seconds later, the fish is brought in, and to my surprise it is a Tarpon.  The change of lure has worked, not the fish we were after, but runs on the board anyway. 

Wayne quickly rigs up and we're casting in tandem from the same platform.  Minutes pass, and I feel a tap on the line, before it goes tight.  I'm on, this time a better fish and I pray it is a Barra. The fish puts up a spirited fight, with a few darting runs, it does not surface until the end, where to my delight I can see it is indeed a Barra.  Wayne rushes for the net, and with one foul swoop, the Barra is safely in the net.  My relief and joy was hard to hide, the smile from ear to ear remained well after a photo is taken with the fish.  Measuring the prize, it comes up 64cm, and is a keeper.

After the formalities are taken care of, we continue casting from the same platform, hoping to snag another Barra.  I decide to move further upstream near the rapids, to allow Wayne sole use of the prime location.  Again I fan the location, with casts in all directions.  With a cast near the shoreline, I once again feel a tap and the line goes tight.  I'm onto another fish, not as big as the other and I soon see it is another Barra.  After dragging it onto shore, it measures 54cm, 1cm under sized.  After a couple of photos, the fish is released to fight another day.

We fish for another hour, not adding to the tally.  With the monkey off my back, the drive home was more palatable.  As soon as we return to the caravan park, the kids asked the question and much to their excitement, I was finally able to confirm that I'd caught a Barra. 

After spending the day exploring the Sandal wood factory, attempting to visit the Zebra rock gallery (was closed on the weekend) and driving the Ivanhoe crossing with the family, I return with Wayne late afternoon to try and help break his drought.  Unfortunately there was a family fishing right in the spot where we'd been fishing and we had to explore further downstream.  We did not catch a Barra downstream, although I did catch a sooty grunter.  Just before dark, we returned to "the" fishing spot, after the family had vacated it, however Wayne's luck had not improved and neither of us managed to bring in a Barra.

We had the Barra that night on the BBQ with Wayne and Caroline, and the fish tasted absolutely delicious; very juicy and sweet, without any hint of muddiness.

Whilst at Kimberleyland, we made a day trip out to El Questro, to see what all the hype was about.  We drive for over an hour to the El Questro turn-off, which is dirt, corrugated and very dusty.  There are a few river crossings, and plenty of car traffic coming in and out of the place.  If you are unlucky enough to be stuck behind a vehicle, you will be sucking in dust for the whole trip in, and you can be guaranteed your air filter will need a clean out. 

A couple of klms from the turn-off is Zebedee Springs, a natural hot water spring that is open to the public until midday, after which only tours are allowed to enter.  There is a small hike to the springs, which was crowded with people with their belongings strewn all over the place.  We manage to find a vacated pool at the top of the spring, and the kids enjoy a warm dip, before we are ushered out by the rangers, making way for the midday tour groups.

We head further along dirt road, crossing the Pentecost just before the El Questro ranch / caravan park.  The place is very impressive, large, well run and there are no shortage of employees to man the deck.  We peruse the shops and café, and run into the Franke family, who are staying at the caravan park.  After lunch and hours of yapping between the wives, we head off from el Questro and head to Emma Gorge.  Ever since we'd mentioned El Questro and Emma Gorge to our Emma, she'd been intent to visit the gorge that had been "named after her".

The gorge car park is only a few klms on dirt, off the main road, on the way back to Kununurra.  We'd been warned about the walk from the car park to the gorge, that it was long and there would be sections where our kids would require assistance to climb and pass.  We intentionally communicate this to the kids, and set them the challenge of doing it all by themselves.  Grace is normally the one that resists hikes, however she does not mind hikes if they are interesting and there is a place to swim along the hike; Emma gorge fits this bill.

After walking over an hour and a bit, climbing over high rocks, slipping and falling, we eventually arrive at the end of the gorge.  What was before us was truly beautiful and well worth the walk in.  The high moss covered walls of the gorge, waterfalls and amplified sounds created a magical atmosphere.  We quickly change into our swimming gear and jump into the fresh water.  Being mostly in the shade, the water was quite cold, but we quickly acclimatised after a few minutes of swimming towards the waterfall.  We're also told that there is a warm water spring at the right of the gorge, which the kids found hard to leave once we located it.

After have a refreshing swim and soak in the spring, we head back to the car, leaving enough time to get back before nightfall.  The family had a great time hiking and swimming in Emma Gorge, especially the little girl who it was "named after".  And yes, she did the walk all by herself, refusing any offers of assistance to scale the high rocks.  We'll have to set the kids similar challenges, to motivate them into completing more walks.

We enjoyed our stay at Kununurra, which is a town that has a lot to offer.  The fresh produce were great, we'd never taste such sweet and juicy watermelon, the paw paw was devine, and the town had that nice country town feel.  We're glad we'd changed our plans to incorporate a few nights in Kununurra, before we make our way to the much anticipated Lake Argyle.