Noccundra Hotel is an interesting old sandstone building on the Wilson River (the source of those bloody pelicans) which dates from 1882. We found the owner, selected our rooms in the dongas and a few of us walked down to the river for a look. A beer (or two) followed and a bucket of yabbie claws which the kids enjoyed cracking with a huge set of pliers. In front of a welcome fire we relaxed and recounted the day's experiences. Just on sunset a number of huge rigs turned up. The manager of them all, Ray Kahn, very kindly allowed us to climb up into one of the 30 tonne giants and have a look. Big machines - BIG! Ray's son Liam was an old schoolmate of Dustin's and so we shared a beer and caught up with what the kids were all up to. Curried sausages and a rum for dinner went down pretty well and no one seemed to mind the fact that there were mice everywhere. Plague proportions it seemed and Sam and Zac amused themselves catching dozens in a trap the owner gave them. The old greased wine bottle over the bucket of water was also in service and there were no shortage of customers for that little body of water. Everyone had had a big day and no one stayed late; though Majella lingered for a while playing cards with Harry and Maddie. There was no phone or net coverage.
When the alarm woke us at 6:30 it was still dark. I'd listened to Ray's trucks move out about 4 -- those blokes work hard and are the salt of the earth -- now we were the only ones around. A hot breakfast in an old pub predawn in near zero temps is a good way to start a new day. Bracing eh? We pulled the aircraft out in front of the Hotel for the expedition photograph that heads the blog. Ray turned up again for his own breakfast and stopped a while to help us all take all manner of pictures from every angle you can imagine. He just shook his head and laughed in good spirit and then it was time for us to go.
We pulled the aircraft out in line astern on the highway and fired them up but RCN would not run for love nor money. ISB and JCU warmed up their engines and shut down and we all hoped no traffic was going to venture along the highway for a while. We discussed a number of theories but the engine wasn't even giving a cough or a splutter and that normally means not enough priming. After 20 or 30 minutes Andrew decided it needed serendipity: 'Let Dustin have a go. He has the magic touch. It will start for him for sure.' And sure enough first crack the Continental engine roared into life and our caravan was back on the road.We taxied out to the strip in clouds of red dust, lined up runway 05 once more and took off for the short 80 nm hop to the famous Dig Tree on the banks of the Cooper, where those idiots Burke and Wills lost their lives 150 years ago. (There is a bloody runway right next to it and why they didn't just fly in and fly out I'll never know). We did not know it when we took off but this was to be one the most captivating legs of the trip. My favourite at least.
We stayed low at about 800-1000 feet most of the way. Formed up briefly on RCN for a few smiles, waves and pictures. Then took up our own track 270 M to Nappa Merrie Station. We would follow the creek from there west to the Dig Tree and later beyond that to Innamincka, the gateway to the far desert country. To get there we first had to pass over the channel country. Low level after a great wet it is one of the most magnificent things you will ever see. Forget CGI; this was sublime. Here and there we saw the odd oil well but for the most part it was a striated mass of rivulets sidestepping their way through low normally bare country, which now swelled with the subtle colours and textures of new vegetation and a profusion and variety of bird life, which made the entire landscape that stretched beyond us tremble with subtle movement. The shifting colours, patterns, and textures can not be described. Subtle hues and tones shifted in both the red and green spectrum: from salmon pinks to ochre reds and incandescent lime through emerald greens and back again through mauve and other subtle purples to light blue. We were absolutely astonished at the beauty of it all; in the clear rose of early morning it was as if the world had been made anew and all the forbidden apples ever pinched still sat untouched and innocent upon the tree of knowledge. We sat in awe - gooed and gaahd -- and took a hell of a lot of bloody photographs.
Geographical features along the way included the Cooroo oil field, Middle Swamp, Maapoo waterhole, and the Moomba oil and gas pipeline but the most wonderful thing by far was the way the Cooper lay its many streams about itself and meandered through that channel country bringing it to life. Far too soon we were through it and the Saint Anne Range marking the beginning of the Sturt Stoney Desert loomed in the middle distance. There the Cooper recollected itself as a river flush with the northern wet season and all light chocolate and snaky made its way through the Coolibah groves to the site of Burke and Wills' despair.
Nappa Merrie was in view and so we turned south west along the creek knowing the Dig Tree was not far. The radio told us that it was a busy little strip for the middle of nowhere. Dustin gave his inbound call and made a quick low circuit on 23 that deftly placed us all on a pretty, but surprisingly rough, little strip of white clay. We landed amidst a flock of small hawks which parted on cue to permit our passage and then thermaled in tight circles around us even as we flared. Awesome :o).
There was another aircraft parked beside the strip and Bomber Johnson and his dogs were there looking after a team of surveyors --who no doubt were up to no good. I filmed the A team arriving from the other direction on runway 05 and then the famous old ranger drove alongside and explained the fee situation to us. The others taxied up, everyone piled out and we walked down to the information hut to pay our dues. Beyond that a 100 metres or so was the river and its famous tree.The Dig Tree is a nice spot in a good season. The Cooper is wide and full of bird life and the big white cranes are impressive. There were a few people camping in the camp grounds to one side but our party had the tree to ourselves and there we stopped for photographs and some morning tea. I enjoyed the sandy soil, the off white spinifex grass, the odd black stump -- if not the actual one itself -- and those lovely trees against a clear electric blue sky.
YNCD - The Dig Tree: Flying time 0.8 hours or 48 minutes.
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