We made it - The Very Tip of the Very Top of Australia

A word of warning to any of you who might one day find yourselves taking the wee boat from Seisia across the Torres Strait to Thursday Island – try not to be the last passengers to board – all the good seats will be taken and you will be left, as we were, perched at the back and exposed to the elements. Not that it really mattered as it was a beautiful though bracing day, especially when subjected to frequent salt water drenchings. Sandra spent most of the 90 minute trip standing at the stern hanging on for dear life and looking for all the world like the figurehead of a 18^th Century man of war that had got “aft” confused with “fore”.

The Figurehead usually juts out proudly from the front end!

"I think that's Thursday Island coming into view now"

Thursday Island, the administrative centre for the North Peninsula Area, eventually hoved into view but our first port of call was to be nearby Horn Island. Making our way between the international yachting fleet – well there were two US flagged yachts – and the crocodile infested mud banks, we tied up at the jetty and made our way to the Torres Strait Heritage Museum. During WWII this was the first line of defence against the Japanese and in fact the most northerly of the Torres Strait Islands is only 5k from Papua New Guinea. The very interesting museum focusses largely on the war time efforts and experiences of both white Australians and the indigenous population. Both Sandra and I got independently lost and found ourselves last on the boat – again - and consigned once more to our rearmost perches.

Thursday Island

Inside the Torres Strait Heritage Museum on Horn Island - very interesting

Thursday Island was a surprise. I supposed we had anticipated a sparsely populated, poorly serviced tropical island scratching a bare living from visiting tourists and a bit of fishing. However, the Torres Strait Islanders seem to be a well organised and motivated bunch who run what appears to be a neat and well managed community. We spent about an hour wandering around the main town – we could have done it a lot quicker but lunch wasn't until 12.30. After a very acceptable fish and chips in the most northerly pub in Australia, with a couple of VB's to wash it down, we went on a taxi tour of the island – then it was back to our wee boat for the journey back to mainland Australia.

Oor wee boat

Maintaining our reputation of being last back onto the boat, and assuming our fellow passengers would yet again take their usual seats, we were in for a rude awakening. On the journey back to the mainland, the place to be if you wanted to avoid getting really soaked, was in the stern. When we finally got back on board all the “safe and dry” seats had been taken and we were consigned to the pointy end for a 90 minute battering as the boat thumped through the waves - and this time we got really wet. Mind you the constant thumping was good preparation for the next part of our trip up to “The Tip” as we had heard that the corrugations on the dirt road were particularly vicious.

Due to the rain we had put off our trip to the most northerly point of the Australian mainland – after our experiences of a few months ago Sandra has vowed never to venture on to a dirt road again if there has been rain. Two of our fellow campers at Alau beach had tried in the previous few days and both had come to grief. Kevin's story in particular had overtones of our disastrous trip on the Oodnadatta track – he had decided to avoid a water crossing by going around it and, in doing so, had knackered his shock absorber. He was now waiting for a spare part to be flown in, at great cost, before he could get on the road again.

This was the second time that Sandra and I had been within striking distance of The Tip and there may not have been a third – so we went for it! From our camp we were very close, only about 35k or so. As dirt tracks go it wasn't the worst but it got very narrow as it wound its way through tropical vegetation. At one point the jungle – there was no other word for it – completely enveloped the car and we appeared to be travelling through a dark green tunnel. Creepers hung down from above and one wouldn't have been surprised to have seen a loin-clothed super hero yodelling his way through the trees looking for Jane (who's writing this stuff!)

The Road to the Tip - yet another water crossing

"The road is here somewhere!"

We came to the water crossing where Kevin did for his shock absorber and, being forewarned, we gave the “chicken run” a miss and went for the water – absolutely no problem at all. At the end of the track we had to park the car and walk. Being a lazy bugger and not wanting to hike over a steep, rocky headland to get to The Tip we decided to go via the beach – skirting the mangroves, keeping our fingers crossed against crocs and then a short scramble over the rocks and we were there. Surprisingly all went well and we found ourselves at the top of Australia and took photos to prove it. This was in fact a significant milestone as we had been to the most Southerly, Easterly, Westerly and now most Northerly points in Australia.

The Very Tip of the Very Top - we made it at last

Getting back to the car however was not quite so straight forward. Tides come and tides go and unfortunately the tide, which Sandra assured me was going out, was in fact coming in and our exit round the mangroves was now cut off. Not really fancying a deep wade through the mangroves, there was nothing for it but to clamber up the rocky headland and make our way back to the car the long way.

With the exploring bit firmly between out teeth we decided not to go back to camp but to head further down the track to a place called Somerset Beach – remote, idyllic and with a mystery. Set back from the beach we came across several small gravestones. Whilst a couple were engraved in English, one was engraved with what I thought might be Japanese, perhaps a legacy from the Japanese pearl divers who operated in this area. Can any reader identify the language and what it says, I'd love to know.

Somerset Beach - Lonely and Lovely

Somerset Beach gravestone - Japanese perhaps?

The following day, Top End mission completed, we set off south again aiming for Bramwell Station a few hundred k's down the track. On the way we passed a sign to somewhere we had heard of but didn't know much about – Captain Billy Landing. Doing a quick U-turn we set off down what turned out to be a challenging wee track with several fairly minor-ish water crossings until we arrived at a vast sweep of sand. As it was blowing a gale and not suitable for our tent - we did yet another beach walk and got on our way.

Yet another creek to cross on the way to Captain Billy Landing

A fine figure of a man at Captain Billy Landing
Of course I'm holding it in!!

Bramwell Station (the most northerly cattle station in Australia) was excellent – good camping, good facilities, a bar and restaurant. Perhaps not the sort of place we would normally gravitate towards but an enjoyable change – particularly when I got into an argument. A man we had briefly met on our trip to Captain Billy Landing somehow got me into a conversation about rally cars – of which I know very little. He said he used to race a Datsun 240Z and was disbelieving when I said I had seen one recently in the Flinders Ranges being raced in the Sydney to London Rally (see blog of about three months ago) He was a rally fanatic and had personally taken part in three London to Sydney Rallies, the Panama to Alaska Rally and several other international events and didn't believe that the Sydney to London event I referred had taken place. When I showed him the photos on my i-Pad and the names of all the competitors he went both ecstatic and ballistic - “Why wasn't I told of this event” as he pored over the names of competitors he knew and cars similar to the one he owned.

From Bramwell 300k or so down the road back to the Musgrave Roadhouse for an overnighter before tomorrow setting off east towards the Lakefield National Park where we plan to spend at least one night.