Australia has been in the news a fair bit in recent weeks, with the usual smattering of shark attacks and crocodile deaths on top of the massive bushfire tragedy in Victoria. The issue in this country, however, that became more relevant for me recently is the flooding in North Queensland that Laura spoke of in her last post.
Our research team was headed into the heart of the flooded areas since, after all, our job is to study the importance of the flood water to all the animals that live there. And this was a big flood, reportedly the biggest many of the residents of these communities have ever seen. This meant that all of Cape York (the land in the map below these posts) was cut off by road. Even Cairns, a city of 100,000 people, had empty shelves at the grocery store when I was there overnight. The irony is that this part of the country is a major tropical fruit producer, so you had bananas destined for southeast Australia rotting in warehouses while locals lacked access to fresh fruit because theirs is sourced from the south.
Our original plan was to fly into the community of Normanton, drive or boat down to Karumba and board a charter boat that would sail north in the Gulf of Carpentaria to the Mitchell River (about halfway between Karumba and Weipa on the map) where we would anchor in the river channel and spend about one week using smaller boats to explore and sample the massive floodplain. We were doing this because there is little dry ground to speak of on which to camp, and reportedly the only dry ground available is occupied by other inhabitants of the creep crawly variety.
In short, the mission was doomed from the start. Our problems started when unusually large floods struck the Normanton/Karumba area, effectively cutting off the community by land for six weeks (and counting). In a normal year it is cut off for about one week. This meant that we couldn't get our gear shipped there and fresh food was limited. So our charter boat opted to sail up to Weipa (about a 28 hour trip) in the hope that it would be better supplied, given that it has a larger population (about 3000) and is a purpose built town for the largest Bauxite mine in the world.
The decision ended up being the wrong one, as it just so happened that at the time the northern gulf was experiencing strong winds and high seas, thus making progress slow. By the time the skipper was within reach of Weipa, we were already one day behind schedule. That's when things really went astray.
While I was in Cairns and scheduled to fly out the next day, I was awakened from sleep by a phone call from the skipper, who informed me that he had struck a stray fishing net and as a result the engine was disabled. He would require a tow into port at Weipa. Check out the picture of the mess. This is what happens when fishermen forget their nets or purposefully leave them to drift. If they do that to a big boat, imagine what they do to fish and other marine creatures. But I digress....
Despite all this, we carried on with the expectation that by the time we got on board the boat we would be about 2-3 days behind schedule. Not the best situation but we had already sunk significant resources into getting this far (including flying three people across the country from Perth), so we weren't about to quit just yet. Two of us flew in a small charter plane with our gear into Pormpuraaw, a remote community of about one thousand inhabitants, primarily Aboriginal, on the Gulf coast, just north of the Mitchell River. The boat was to pick us up there when it was ready.
As further evidence that our little field trip was cursed from the outset, we had just set down our bags in the guest house in Pormpuraaw when there arose a wailing outside. A young man (24 years old) had just been found out in the bush. He had hanged himself the night before. The community responded with great grief, and the harsh reality of remoteness, isolation and disenchantment came crashing down. As with other New World countries, Indigenous suicide rates are far higher than those for non-Indigenous people. I was reminded of the situation in Big Cove, NB in the early 90's.
Despite the young man's death and another pending funeral in the community, the Rangers there were very kind towards us and took us around (at their insistence) to a few locations for us to sample while we waited for our boat. At one of these sites I saw my first salt water crocodile. Luckily for me it was behind a purpose-built fence that keeps the crocs and their nests in a wetland away from the road that leads down to the river. Of course, there is no fence at the river itself and plenty of crocodiles, so we had to be on our guard.
After three days in Pormpuraaw and regular updates on our skipper's progress, we finally learned that the boat's generator was non-functional. Since we could not get a replacement sent up for several weeks (because of the floods), we were forced to finally give up on the mission and fly back to Brisbane to lick our wounds. The only bonus of that was I was able to get back early to a distressed wife and daughter.
Oh, and just in case you thought we weren't dealing with enough hazards (crocs, cyclones, snakes) while doing this ridiculous work, you can add Dengue Fever, Dysentery, and even organized crime to the mix. Quite a change from my earlier work, taking day trips to sample little streams in New Brunswick where the blackflies are the biggest hazard.
We'll be heading back up north to try again later this week or early next. Hopefully, as with this last trip, the only incidents will be mechanical!
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