When the river runs dry (Koolama Bay, King George Gorge Falls)

I'm on a roll, three great Australian rock bands in succession. This is one from Hunters and Collectors, their 1989 classic When The River Runs Dry. Yes, dear reader, just about everything runs dry once the wet season is over. Certainly, the King George Gorge Twin Falls are no exception as you shall see from the photos. The name is a bit of a mouthful though, don't try repeating it after few champagnes. I did. Unsuccessfully.

In the spirit of expedition and not cruising, my day commenced at 5:30am. Again. I had to be breakfasted, sunscreened and ready on deck, resplendent in my Zodiac life vest for a 6:30 departure. Jayne did not. My morning was a 6 hour zodiac tour which included a climb to the top of the falls. At the briefing, the description of the difficulty of the walk could have been referencing a climb up Everest sans oxygen. A 9/10 for difficulty. I had my doubts but the description was sufficient to ensure that Jayne and I sat there pondering - she wanting me to go, me wanting to stay with her and both of us knowing she would not be interested.

Thankfully, they supplied us with a solution. I could do the tour and come back, have lunch and join Jayne on an afternoon tour that didn't include a climb up a cliff face. Perfect.

My first view of the ship from the water

The water was choppy due to the wind, even at 6:30, as we set out to spot the bird life on a nearby beach and hopefully sight the elusive black and white stork. Those of us less ornithologically inclined might refer to it as a jabiru - it has been renamed because jabiru actually exist in South America. We didn't see one.

 Weather-wise the morning was not as magical as the Ord River experience. The wind blew up a choppy swell and we were regularly cooled down by waves splashing over the bow of the Zodiac. A small price to pay in order to see things that I may never see again. The rock walls have a sameness until you look closer. They are textured by erosion and coloured by different layers of sand, minerals, algae, plants and guano. The colours change as the light alters with the transition of the sun and encroaching or receding shade.

There was plenty of wild life too. George, our expedition leader, is into birds. Happy days for me. He demonstrated amazing knowledge of the area but birds were his specialty. We saw peregrine falcons, white bellied sea eagles, pied oyster catchers, terns, osprey ... the list goes on. Sadly, I made a poor choice of lens for this trip and only had the 135mm with me so many photos went begging for want of a larger lens. Nonetheless, the journey to the drop off point for the climb was amazing.

The water changed colour too depending on where we were, how the deep the water was, the surrounding vegetation and other factors. Some places looked delightfully enticing, particularly as the day warmed up. However, this is salt water and it harbours an abundance of sharks and crocodiles. A swim could end up with you becoming dinner, see below. He was totally disinterested in us as we watched him swim lazily bye.

Best not to go swimming

The climb to the plateau was as I thought it would be - a very steep scramble over rocks. It was nowhere near the difficulty described and I walked with my camera around my neck, meaning I never used more than one hand to climb or keep myself steady. It didn't even require a high level of fitness. From water to plateau in less than 30 minutes and I was near the tail of the group, so I was not making my own pace and I stopped for photos. That said, given the demographic on board, the warning was necessary. Perhaps there are some amongst us who still view their power, prowess, strength and flexibility through rose coloured glasses. The climb was not without casualties but, happily, I was not one of them. 

The view on the way up was magnificent and once on the plateau you were able to get a real sense of the size and grandeur of the falls and the gorge. Not to mention the power of nature. Water created this. Or the rainbow serpent. We spent about 45 minutes on the plateau. Usually there are remnant pools to swim/wade in, but the last wet was a poor season and there was very little water around. In fact, the falls weren't, they were merely cliffs. We were shown photos taken from a drone at the recap that night. The scale of the flood is not something easily captured in words.

The view from the main fall

The survivors

We boarded the Zodiac and headed around for a close up of the cliff face. Lurking in the shadows of one of the falls was a Zodiac containing Maxime, one of the bar tenders, with several cases of champagne. George manoeuvred the Zodiac into position and Maxime served us a well deserved glass of bubbles. We then headed back to the ship.

Looking back at both falls

The Zodiac arrived late, which was not really a problem because I walked gingerly direct to lunch. Jayne was waiting and already had a table and a glass of wine waiting for me. Sitting on the side of the inflatable Zodiac for nearly 4 hours had taken its toll, my legs were slow to move and I was very aware that I was more happy to stand for a while. All this in the knowledge that in another hour I was getting onto another Zodiac to sit for another 3 and a half hours.

A young osprey

At 2pm it was time to head out again. Our guide this time was Adrian, a young South African man of great self-confidence. Curiously, today at least, this confidence was well placed as we saw dugong, crocodile, black and white stork, humped back dolphins and a young osprey. The smoke haze that looked like it was going to spoil the afternoon disappeared with the breeze and so did the choppy water. It was a much more pleasant experience on board the Zodiac, although I had some issues maintaining a comfortable seat.

Dugong - never thought I'd see one

The black and white stork

It was just on dark as we returned to the ship. Adrian manoeuvred the Zodiac to ensure we could get a great silhouette shot of Le Lapérouse.

Until next time.