Part 5

Well, I was wrong. We haven’t yet made the Cape, instead taking a few side-steps along the way from Cairns.

Cairns has had an unusually wet ‘dry’ season. It has rained nearly every day. After seeing our son and catching up with two of hubby’s sisters, we decided to get out of town. 

Heading north we drove in to see Palm Cove, Yorkey’s Beach and a couple of other major tourist places. Unfortunately, they all look the same; cafes, bars and high-end shopping. Nothing of great interest to me!

We followed the coast most of the way with very pretty vistas overlooking the ocean, before stretching out on the sugar cane flats of Mossman. A short stop at Port Douglas (once again, resort style living) for lunch.

Mossman Gorge was a short trip off the main road where the two sisters checked out the availability of caravan parking.  The idea was for them to check out the location and report back to us. After waiting a respectable amount of time, we sent a text message. No response. I thought maybe reception was a bit dodgy so waited some more. As some may know, patience is not my virtue and when no reply was forthcoming, we decided to wander on to find a camp for the next few nights. 

Somewhere down the track, the message came through ‘all good for vans’.  Sorry we were already heading out of town. We will come back at a later date. 

I will say here I am also an impromptu person, but on this occasion (due to Qld school holidays) I actually rang a few van parks in close proximity looking for vacancies. The first 2 ‘no vacancy’. On the third try, ‘yes plenty of space (unpowered). First in gets to pick where they park’. I liked the attitude and loved the park. Fifty metres from the beach, green grass, large trees but enough sun to charge the battery. Perfect! Call it serendipitous; with all other parks full and this piece of heaven - Wonga Beach.

Wong Beach

Our view from the van - Wonga Beach

We booked in for three nights but extended an extra day, even though the mournful scream from the Curlews were noisy during the night. From here it was easy to discover Mossman Gorge one day, Crocodile boat tours the next. Walking on a deserted beach, reading books and generally ‘chilling-out’ created the perfect respite. We didn’t cross the Daintree River this way, leaving Cape Tribulation and the likes for another trip down from Cooktown.

Mossman Gorge was very pretty and is the southern boundary for the Daintree Heritage area, living up to its reputation. Pristine wilderness with vines, water-ways, large trees and ferns of all description. Green, green and more green!

Fungi - Mossman Gorge (not everything was green!)

The Croc(odile) tour is operated by a very swift talking Martin. He has the most amazing memory for names I have ever come across. As per usual I didn’t book, instead just fronting up wanting to get on a tour. Luck was on my side as Martin suggested I pay my dues, and book-in for the 11:30am tour. But because we were there early, maybe he could get me on the 10:45 am tour, “just hang around”. So, we did. Next minute call comes “Jenny, you’re in. A couple hasn’t caught the ferry across (Daintree River), therefore will not arrive in time”. 

Off we ambled to the solar-panelled-electric-motored boat. Boarding with another 20 people left us plenty of room to move around – if absolutely necessary. (The boat didn’t respond well when everyone went to one side to see the crocodiles). On close inspection we sighted Dusty, Skuta, Scar-face and Crow, plus a couple of other little crocs (2’) without names. Dusty the female will be the damsel fought over by Crow (newcomer) and Scar-face for breeding this year.

Crow - the outsider

Skuta (male) is a little younger and won’t contend in the coming season. The guide did say that the smaller ones may not make it to adulthood, instead becoming victims themselves to the larger crocs. Because of the recent floods in February, the Daintree River croc eggs didn’t survive at all; there will be now new crocs this year. I actually felt sorry for these fearsome prehistoric creatures. Their attrition rate is at massive propositions. From all the eggs they produce only half a crocodile will make it to adulthood per season. Therefore, out of two nests one croc will survive. It takes 10 years to grow to 1 metre. The old male crocs we saw were estimated to be about 60 years old. Females stop growing at a certain age, whereas the males will continue to grow till the end of their life. 

After our wonderful few days, we made one more trip down south to Cairns before deciding to head up to the tableland and west for a few days. Final farewells to hubby’s sisters and our son were made. We will catch up again, in a few weeks.

Up in the tablelands we headed towards Chillagoe. A tiny town on the Burke Development Road which once gained its notoriety from… you guessed it mining!  Copper, gold, lead, zinc, tin – you name it, they have it. Miners flocked to this area at the turn of the century to make their fame and fortune (again). This time they came with their wheelbarrows. Full of all their worldly goods and chattels; corrugated tin for homes, kettles, pots and pans, with mother carrying baby, bringing up the rear.

Wheelbarrow man - Chillagoe

To celebrate this historic feat each year they have a ‘Wheelbarrow Race’ from Mareeba, over three days. Teams of ten run with barrow for 15 seconds, then swap with the next person. A bus accompanies each team for the participants to ride in while not running. All teams have to raise money for local charities of their choice, this being the main reason for the race.

Chillagoe itself is a tiny town with basic infrastructure; police station, coffee shop, 2 hotels, general store and hardware shop. One quaint aspect of the General Store is the different and variant items for sale; Karaoke machine, electronic microphone and the one that took hubby’s fancy – chocolate fountain!  

We stayed in a free-park behind the Cockatoo Hotel, where Rhonda and Rob looked after us exceptionally well. Nice cold beer (for hubby), good wine (for me) and two nights off cooking preferring to spend our money in the pub. It was also a good central location to take off from and see the sights. And sights – there are quite a few. 

The old smelters, with interpretive signs describing the incredible mining past is a must see. John Moffatt a mining entrepreneur spent almost half a million pounds setting up the mine in Chillagoe. William Atherton became the owner of Chillagoe Station supplying the miners all the meat. Both men were pioneers in their fields. Although the smelter is fenced off for OH&S reasons (asbestos etc), the vantage points around it give you fantastic views over all aspects. This once thriving place once employed 1000 workers.

The old smelter

A few details of the mines operations

Once again though this type of mining was very expensive and for little profit, ceasing operation not long after WW2.

The mining industry continues in the area to this day with the main product being zinc. Mined here, then transported via truck to Townsville Port and exported overseas, it never ceases to amaze me how much of our land is being taken off our shores. We saw several trucks with 3 road trains heading out of town each day. 

The other product of interest mined here is marble. Big white blocks dot the road into Chillagoe. All placed in a circle, apparently to prevent the cattle falling into the mine they have been dug from. There is very little activity with this mining at present, as the marble industry itself is extremely slow. The final product also quite expensive and with cheaper look-a-likes around, these blocks lie in the place where they were dug.    

I must admit the bird life around this place is exceptional. Many varieties inhabit the many trees and waterholes: Apostle birds, galahs, black cockatoos, corella, ibis, blue-faced honeyeaters, magpie, mudlarks, bustards, guinea fowl and about 8 peacocks. It really was a twitcher’s paradise.

Blue-headed Honeyeater

The other aspect we discovered, in our few days here, were the amazing rock formations; including the caves.  We booked a tour to the Trezkinn cave (under advice from the National Parks lady). Proceeding up many stairs we reached the summit of the cave entrance. On reaching the summit, you guessed it, we descended via ladders and stainless-steel handles into the cave (300 steps). Due to school holidays we had some children with us. These little people saved my dignity by slowing down the process of climbing down the ladders, then back up. I had to wait, which was wonderful for my already compromised lungs. I didn’t look like the old lady who couldn’t climb stairs (much!).

The cave itself was wonderous, with colourful stalactites and stalagmites of various form and shape. Shawl, candelabra, column, sideways, some even looking like prehistoric monsters. But I certainly wouldn’t want to be trapped in here as the inhabitants consist of bats, snakes, spiders, and cockroaches (the cleaning machines of the cave). 

Candelabra style cave - Trezkinn

Prehistoric monster? - Trezkinn Cave

Following our adventures in the cave we walked to the ‘Balancing Rock’, a natural wonder of limestone rock situated on a smaller rock ‘balancing’ precariously.  Continuing our tour around town we paid our respects at the cemetery discovering the final resting place of William Atherton and his wife (original owner of Chillagoe Station). This cemetery is very well maintained with all persons remains identified with date of birth, death, gender and occupation on death. As you might imagine, many of them mining deaths from the early 1900’s.

The weir was also extremely pretty, with paperbark trees lining the banks. Locals and visitors alike use this waterhole as a cooling-down place. A great place at sunset to see all the birdlife according to the locals. 

Balancing Rock

The last of our discovery was to check the legendary ‘Ford Museum’ run by the just as infamous ‘Tom Prior’. Tom, now 80 years old, runs his museum most days. Tom is well known in the area as a long-standing resident. His father was the mailman for many years and Tom himself, carting goods (especially fuel) to many of the far-flung destinations. His Ford trucks were instrumental in covering much of the rough tracks once deemed impassable to other users. He still drives his 1946 V8 Super Deluxe coupe ute around town.

As much as we are Holden people, we thought it might be worth a look around at all the historic equipment Tom had on offer. Unfortunately, the day we called Tom wasn’t home.  Oh well, just as well perhaps – at least we didn’t have to put up with all that Ford hype! 

We are back on the road again. This time we are closing in on our companions travelling to the Cape. I promise next time my next post will be from the Cape somewhere, but in the meantime I hope you have enjoyed our side-trek as much as we have.