Cape Tribulation has always been a sight seeing target of mine. The reasons are unclear. Perhaps it may have resonated in my childhood memories of Australian history in that it was the point nearest on the coastline to the Endeavour reef where Cook came to grief in 1770.(hence the name) Who knows? In any event, we were off to see it, and of course, the rain forests of the Daintree through which we had to travel to get there.
'The Daintree'....another name which has always conjured up images of a world apart. Would it be so for us?
As would be reasonably expected in an area which supports a rain forest, the climate has also spawned at least one river of some size.
The Daintree River ferry is at the service of all who wish to cross it and continue northwards to Cape Tribulation (on the bitumen) and, for those so included, further along the unsealed coastal Bloomfield Track to the Lions Den and Cooktown.
Mind you, as one approaches the ferry landing, any enthusiasm for swimming, wading or otherwise splashing about in the local rivers and steams is quickly blunted (at least for all who can read).
Undaunted by the thought of fearsome locals as we sat snugly in our metal fortress, we patiently awaited the arrival of the ferry. At the early hour we were travelling this was not too long. We had been told that the secret to a day trip involving the ferry was to arrive outward bound before 1000 hours and, more critically, to arrive back for the return crossing well before 1500 hours. After that, the number of returning day visitors can be such that a two hour wait to cross the river is not uncommon. Not for us.
We were able to board without delay once the ferry docked. It is similar to the Murray River punts in that it is hauled to and fro on stout metal cables, but is considerably larger than most we have used on the Murray. And as can be seen from this shot, the Daintree River is more than a mere creek. Unfortunately, walking around the deck during the crossing is prohibited, so we were limited to shots through the cruiser windows.
We had decided to drive directly to Cape Tribulation and thence make our way back stopping at points of interest on the basis that we should then be ahead of the rush. Good plan.
The road from the ferry was pretty good until we began the climb up the Alexandra Range. Here things became more narrow and winding, but nothing to cause concern.
We did stop at the Mount Alexandra lookout for a quick look out to the Coral Sea and the mouth of the Daintree River before pushing on the next 25 kms or so to
Cape Tribulation! Yep, that's it,
or at lest all we could capture in a photo from the crescent beach which runs northwards from its northern edge as can be seen here once I had turned through 180 degrees. I have to say we were a little disappointed that we were unable to find any vantage point from which we could see the entire cape, but that's travelling!
But whilst there, we did take the relatively short walk through the forest to a viewing platform which promised views over the Coral Sea.
And here we did get a treat. A rustling in the undergrowth was the first clue. And lo and behold, demonstrating not a jot of fear and determined to root out the insects on which it was feeding no more than arm's length off the edge of the track, was an orange footed scrub fowl. These inhabit much the same territory as the ubiquitous brush turkey which we have seen everywhere on the east coast, including urban areas, but a sighting of one of these is a much more special event.
And as you can see, if it were not for its orange legs and feet, its colouring would make it very difficult to spot. This little fellow, which is about the same size as a normal domestic chook, scratched and munched away for a number of minutes as I was madly cavorting about trying to get a good photo, with limited success. The little bugger would just not pose!
So, from one two legged bird to another, sweeping the coastline north of Cape Trib with her trusty binoculars from the viewing platform. Nothing to unusual to report. Mountains, rain forest, grey sand and blue sea. The Daintree!
And when one is the scribe, a moment of self indulgence is always possible!
So much for Cape Tribulation. I think the best way to describe our reactions is "well, we can cross that off the list"!
One of the things which surprised us during this trip to the Daintree was the fact that although all the blurb extols the virtues of the various accommodation houses, restaurants, bars etc, very few can actually be seen directly from the roadway.
Cape Tribulation does provide one exception, where the general store and a motel and bar are sited right on the bitumen.
Opposite this complex, there is another café and bar, which also serves as the booking office for those more intrepid souls who wish to indulge themselves in the adventures of 'jungle surfing' (a ride on a super sized flying fox through the forest canopy), or a trip out onto the reef on this IRB on steroids which departs daily from the nearby beach.
So, back we went, winding our way through the rain forest to our first return port of call, a botanic ramble through the scrub (sorry, forest)
where the boardwalk took us through a mixture of rain forest and mangrove swamps alongside one of the many creeks which drain off the mountain ridges.
As on previous occasions, I have attempted some editorial rigour in the pictorial presentation of this jaunt through the woods with the view to restrict the masses of photos I took to some highlights, the first of which has to be the incredibly latticed trunk of this tree on the edge of the path. I strongly suspect that the route of the path was deliberately designed to ensure a good view of this oddity. We were somewhat disappointed that there was no explanatory plaque nearby so we are left to conjure up any theory we choose.
I know I have previously referred to the extraordinary heights the local (and they are genuinely local) Hope's cycads have to achieve to reach the life supporting light at the top of the canopy. Here is an example of what I mean.
How these slender towers survive the cyclonic battering they receive from time is beyond me. The tuft of fronds pictured here is at least 20 metres above the forest floor. But given that this particular species has been living in this area of Australia for the past 230 million (yes, million) years, I guess we can accept that it is more than capable of looking after itself.
Basket ferns also abound throughout this part of the forest. One of the signs relating to these described how they provide a home for 'birds, snakes, frogs and insects.' It did occur to me that the snakes would have any they occupied all to themselves!
As could be expected, the swampy area of this part of the world is host to a number of species of mangrove trees. One of the more interesting for me is the 'Cannon Ball' mangrove, so named for its seed pod which grows to about 200mm in diameter and, between June and September, distributes its contained seed on the tide by exploding with some ferocity. Despite our best endeavours we did not managed to enjoy this phenomenon. But we did see plenty of these trees, with their buttressed roots providing support in the mud. Now, I have never previously thought of mangrove trees as being a source of good timber, but the Cannon Ball, being a member of the mahogany family, is just that, and was harvested extensively in days gone by for use in making furniture. Felling it in these croc and bug infested swamps must have been fun.
too much time on their hands!
I have referred previously to the fact that the roadside through the Daintree is dotted with forest lodges, restaurants, and cafes, most of which rejoice in the fact that they are nestled well within the embrace of the forest, but there is one which lauds its point of difference. The restaurant at Thornton Beach boasts absolute beach front dining. We had to stop and check it out and found the usual grey, somewhat uninspiring sand of this part of world, and
without wishing to appear too harshly critical, an equally uninspiring eating house, complete with its outside port-a-loos! (tastefully excluded from the photo) Despite a serious lack of ambiance, its advertised $10.00 fish and chips lunch did seem to be attracting some custom. We had other things to do.
The Daintree Discovery Centre beckoned, en route to which we drove past another of this area's little surprises...a tea plantation. We had seen a similar venture just north of Innisfail on the Palmerston Highway to Atherton, but had no idea this crop would flourish in this area, but clearly it does,
as do the cattle we saw grazing away on the lush pastures of the flatlands on the Daintree.
So on to the Discovery Centre, where a series of elevated walkways and others across the forest floor (as depicted on the entrance sign) take the visitor on a truly informative tour of discovery.
The somewhat pricey entrance fee includes a wonderful little device, something like an old mobile phone. Numbered signs along the walkways invite activation of a similar number on the keyboard with the result that a relevant vocal commentary is provided. This enables one to actually look around at all which is being described in 'real time'. It was a marvellous way to absorb the detailed information which is presented.
I have made no attempt to provide a pictorial presentation of all we saw over the two hours or so as we wandered about, other than this shot of a typical part of the boardwalk midway between the floor and the canopy
and this, looking out over the forest top from the seriously high lookout tower above the canopy (the forest floor was some 45 metres below us). I can only crave your forgiveness for this unusual photographic sloth. I was just too much otherwise engaged.
Facilities at the Discovery Centre include a very well laid out interpretive area in which a plethora of information abounds relating to both the flora and fauna of the forest, other tropical species including live fish in tanks, a reptile house (ugh! - editor's comment only) and exhibits which tell the story of the geographical development of the area.
And of course, departure from this truly interesting and informative place must be made through the restaurant and souvenir shop where Liz did actually add to her collection of stubby holders. We were tempted by the culinary delights on offer, but we have learnt from experience that eating out is the trap for the unwary on the road. It can play havoc with the budget. We have managed to discipline ourselves to no more than one 'away' meal per week. Mind you, I suspect it is just as well that Liz is the keeper of the purse!
After leaving the Discovery Centre we did detour off the main road to take a peek at Cow Bay, which now goes in the 'been there done that' book (another grey beach...we really are spoilt with our beaches in SA) before making our way back to the ferry terminal. We were relieved to find that the queue of southbound vehicles was not long and that we were able to board immediately. Once again I was a little miffed that the ferry operators are so adamant in their insistence that no passengers are to leave their vehicles during transit, but at least we did manage to capture this local tourist oddity, a 'river train'.
Mind you, as one approaches the ferry landing, any enthusiasm for swimming, wading or otherwise splashing about in the local rivers and steams is quickly blunted (at least for all who can read).
We were able to board without delay once the ferry docked. It is similar to the Murray River punts in that it is hauled to and fro on stout metal cables, but is considerably larger than most we have used on the Murray. And as can be seen from this shot, the Daintree River is more than a mere creek. Unfortunately, walking around the deck during the crossing is prohibited, so we were limited to shots through the cruiser windows.
We had decided to drive directly to Cape Tribulation and thence make our way back stopping at points of interest on the basis that we should then be ahead of the rush. Good plan.
The road from the ferry was pretty good until we began the climb up the Alexandra Range. Here things became more narrow and winding, but nothing to cause concern.
We did stop at the Mount Alexandra lookout for a quick look out to the Coral Sea and the mouth of the Daintree River before pushing on the next 25 kms or so to
Cape Tribulation! Yep, that's it,
or at lest all we could capture in a photo from the crescent beach which runs northwards from its northern edge as can be seen here once I had turned through 180 degrees. I have to say we were a little disappointed that we were unable to find any vantage point from which we could see the entire cape, but that's travelling!
But whilst there, we did take the relatively short walk through the forest to a viewing platform which promised views over the Coral Sea.
And here we did get a treat. A rustling in the undergrowth was the first clue. And lo and behold, demonstrating not a jot of fear and determined to root out the insects on which it was feeding no more than arm's length off the edge of the track, was an orange footed scrub fowl. These inhabit much the same territory as the ubiquitous brush turkey which we have seen everywhere on the east coast, including urban areas, but a sighting of one of these is a much more special event.
And as you can see, if it were not for its orange legs and feet, its colouring would make it very difficult to spot. This little fellow, which is about the same size as a normal domestic chook, scratched and munched away for a number of minutes as I was madly cavorting about trying to get a good photo, with limited success. The little bugger would just not pose!
So, from one two legged bird to another, sweeping the coastline north of Cape Trib with her trusty binoculars from the viewing platform. Nothing to unusual to report. Mountains, rain forest, grey sand and blue sea. The Daintree!
And when one is the scribe, a moment of self indulgence is always possible!
So much for Cape Tribulation. I think the best way to describe our reactions is "well, we can cross that off the list"!
One of the things which surprised us during this trip to the Daintree was the fact that although all the blurb extols the virtues of the various accommodation houses, restaurants, bars etc, very few can actually be seen directly from the roadway.
Cape Tribulation does provide one exception, where the general store and a motel and bar are sited right on the bitumen.
Opposite this complex, there is another café and bar, which also serves as the booking office for those more intrepid souls who wish to indulge themselves in the adventures of 'jungle surfing' (a ride on a super sized flying fox through the forest canopy), or a trip out onto the reef on this IRB on steroids which departs daily from the nearby beach.
Judging by the music blaring from this craft as we were checking out the Cape Trib. beach, these activities are pitched very much at the young. Our later observations of those milling around the booking office confirmed our suspicions. I later came across a brochure advertising three nights at the Cape Trib. motel including the jungle surf and the reef trip for $295 per head. This struck me as pretty good value.
We were a touch tempted to venture off the bitumen onto the initial stages of the Bloomfield Track (just to say we had seen it), before we left the Cape, but decided against it. A track is a track is a track was our logic.
So, back we went, winding our way through the rain forest to our first return port of call, a botanic ramble through the scrub (sorry, forest)
where the boardwalk took us through a mixture of rain forest and mangrove swamps alongside one of the many creeks which drain off the mountain ridges.
As on previous occasions, I have attempted some editorial rigour in the pictorial presentation of this jaunt through the woods with the view to restrict the masses of photos I took to some highlights, the first of which has to be the incredibly latticed trunk of this tree on the edge of the path. I strongly suspect that the route of the path was deliberately designed to ensure a good view of this oddity. We were somewhat disappointed that there was no explanatory plaque nearby so we are left to conjure up any theory we choose.
I know I have previously referred to the extraordinary heights the local (and they are genuinely local) Hope's cycads have to achieve to reach the life supporting light at the top of the canopy. Here is an example of what I mean.
How these slender towers survive the cyclonic battering they receive from time is beyond me. The tuft of fronds pictured here is at least 20 metres above the forest floor. But given that this particular species has been living in this area of Australia for the past 230 million (yes, million) years, I guess we can accept that it is more than capable of looking after itself.
Basket ferns also abound throughout this part of the forest. One of the signs relating to these described how they provide a home for 'birds, snakes, frogs and insects.' It did occur to me that the snakes would have any they occupied all to themselves!
As could be expected, the swampy area of this part of the world is host to a number of species of mangrove trees. One of the more interesting for me is the 'Cannon Ball' mangrove, so named for its seed pod which grows to about 200mm in diameter and, between June and September, distributes its contained seed on the tide by exploding with some ferocity. Despite our best endeavours we did not managed to enjoy this phenomenon. But we did see plenty of these trees, with their buttressed roots providing support in the mud. Now, I have never previously thought of mangrove trees as being a source of good timber, but the Cannon Ball, being a member of the mahogany family, is just that, and was harvested extensively in days gone by for use in making furniture. Felling it in these croc and bug infested swamps must have been fun.
After this surprisingly interesting commune with nature we continued our road trip back towards the ferry, where, on several sections, we travelled past cassowary warning signs and over the associated speed humps designed to slow traffic and give any straying across the tarmac a fighting chance of reaching the other side. (apparently cassowaries have the road sense of emus...what a survival burden that is.....no, I won't get started on emus again!)
And one of these signs demonstrated that someone has a sense of humour, and probably
I have referred previously to the fact that the roadside through the Daintree is dotted with forest lodges, restaurants, and cafes, most of which rejoice in the fact that they are nestled well within the embrace of the forest, but there is one which lauds its point of difference. The restaurant at Thornton Beach boasts absolute beach front dining. We had to stop and check it out and found the usual grey, somewhat uninspiring sand of this part of world, and
without wishing to appear too harshly critical, an equally uninspiring eating house, complete with its outside port-a-loos! (tastefully excluded from the photo) Despite a serious lack of ambiance, its advertised $10.00 fish and chips lunch did seem to be attracting some custom. We had other things to do.
The Daintree Discovery Centre beckoned, en route to which we drove past another of this area's little surprises...a tea plantation. We had seen a similar venture just north of Innisfail on the Palmerston Highway to Atherton, but had no idea this crop would flourish in this area, but clearly it does,
as do the cattle we saw grazing away on the lush pastures of the flatlands on the Daintree.
So on to the Discovery Centre, where a series of elevated walkways and others across the forest floor (as depicted on the entrance sign) take the visitor on a truly informative tour of discovery.
The somewhat pricey entrance fee includes a wonderful little device, something like an old mobile phone. Numbered signs along the walkways invite activation of a similar number on the keyboard with the result that a relevant vocal commentary is provided. This enables one to actually look around at all which is being described in 'real time'. It was a marvellous way to absorb the detailed information which is presented.
I have made no attempt to provide a pictorial presentation of all we saw over the two hours or so as we wandered about, other than this shot of a typical part of the boardwalk midway between the floor and the canopy
and this, looking out over the forest top from the seriously high lookout tower above the canopy (the forest floor was some 45 metres below us). I can only crave your forgiveness for this unusual photographic sloth. I was just too much otherwise engaged.
Facilities at the Discovery Centre include a very well laid out interpretive area in which a plethora of information abounds relating to both the flora and fauna of the forest, other tropical species including live fish in tanks, a reptile house (ugh! - editor's comment only) and exhibits which tell the story of the geographical development of the area.
And of course, departure from this truly interesting and informative place must be made through the restaurant and souvenir shop where Liz did actually add to her collection of stubby holders. We were tempted by the culinary delights on offer, but we have learnt from experience that eating out is the trap for the unwary on the road. It can play havoc with the budget. We have managed to discipline ourselves to no more than one 'away' meal per week. Mind you, I suspect it is just as well that Liz is the keeper of the purse!
After leaving the Discovery Centre we did detour off the main road to take a peek at Cow Bay, which now goes in the 'been there done that' book (another grey beach...we really are spoilt with our beaches in SA) before making our way back to the ferry terminal. We were relieved to find that the queue of southbound vehicles was not long and that we were able to board immediately. Once again I was a little miffed that the ferry operators are so adamant in their insistence that no passengers are to leave their vehicles during transit, but at least we did manage to capture this local tourist oddity, a 'river train'.
All these quaint little floating carriages are pulled along by a floating engine (which I have skilfully managed to cut out of the shot...no second chances on the Daintree ferry!) What an different tourist experience this must be, bobbing along in one of these floating match boxes whilst potentially dodging the local and seriously large reptilian inhabitants of this stretch of water. An encounter with a territorial male could make for an interesting trip!
Daintree Village as such is on a separate road which does not require the ferry crossing. We visited this area a few days later. Once again the road to the village was dotted with forest enclosed 'eco' lodges, and I must say this was more like what I had originally expected of the area.
We were somewhat surprised by the amount of housing and general farming activity we saw along the way, but the village itself, apart from some outlying houses, is clearly entirely tourist orientated.
The very short 'main' street travels past cafes, tour booking offices, a convenience store and a restaurant/bar before it sweeps to the left and descends, past the caravan park,
to the Daintree wharf and boat ramp, a wharf with history. For many years after the
original settlement of the Daintree village area, there was no direct road access from Mossman. This was finally provided in 1933. In the meantime, following the first mail delivery to the town in 1881 by boat, the produce of the local butter factory and the cut timber from the busy village sawmill, was exported to the waiting world by the same means.
Now the wharf serves the tourist industry and provides river access for those chasing bream, grunters and the highly desirable barramundi in their private tinnies and cruisers.
I was more than a little amused when photographing the crocodile tourist boat as it was taking its next load of hopefuls on board to see the warning sign at edge of the ramp.
It is obviously cautioning against the possibility of a rather nasty and abrupt halt on the river bed. Looking at the advertising sign on the cruise boat, I would have thought that other was 'superfluous to need'.
And so our Daintree adventure has come to an end. It had become obvious to us that many spend several days or more toddling up and down the coastal strip enjoying what is on offer at the various eating and other establishments whilst staying at one of the many local eco villas or lodges. We were more than content to remain day trippers. In fact, I have to say that by the time we had finished our ramble in the Daintree, given that this came after our experience at Mossman Gorge, we felt that we had rain forests well and truly under our belts. And I have to say, this area is indisputably different to anything we had previously experienced.
As you might imagine I was more than relieved to have done the local forest circuit and more before being clobbered with the bout of shingles. Things from that point on were decidedly low key on all fronts. As I have previously explained (grizzled?), serious pain, lack of sleep and general malaise limited your correspondent's daily activities to essentials only. (hence the delayed blogs for one thing).
We did, however, leave Mossman as scheduled on Monday July 29 for a three night stopover at Fishery Falls en route back to Kurrimine Beach.
But, back to real time, I am pleased to report that three weeks since the onset of this bloody affliction, whilst I am still not yet pain free, the rash is slowly fading and I remain hopeful that the symptoms will not extend beyond the usual limit of a month. I have to confess I'm dreading the thought of postherpatic neuralgia, which remains a possibility, but we'll deal with that if necessary. Apart from any other consideration, I'm seriously over gulping down painkillers every eight hours (with only limited effect).
On the positive side of things, the weather here at Kurrimine Beach has finally shaken off the wet effects of the La Nina season and assumed the typical FNQ cycle for this time of the year. Mild to cool nights and gloriously warm and sunny days with little wind other than a most welcome afternoon sea breeze......we could not be asking for more from the weather gods.
Add to this a group of delightful fellow park inhabitants, and touring life is currently pretty good (once I fix our leaking hot water inlet pipe!) However, our arrival here at Kurrimine Beach this time was less than ideal....we have had our first experience of the caravan park 'neighbour from hell'. Fishery Falls, vandalism, self centred and belligerent neighbours and more of our recent current Kurrimine experiences in my next blog.
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