Paddling through the Heart of a Timeless Land

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Rising in the vast Arnhem Land Escarpment, the Katherine River (known to the Jawoyn people as Barraya, meaning 'Blossoming Kookaburra') flows through a fault in the sandstone escarpment, forming a vast gorge system framed by spectacular cliffs. In the Wet Season the river rises up to ten metres, flowing unimpeded through the entire gorge system at a speed of up to 40km/h. In the Dry Season however, the river falls significantly and a series of exposed rock bars divide the gorge into different sections separated by small sets of shallow rapids, with the various navigable stretches of river being referred to as the First Gorge, Second Gorge and so on, continuing upstream as far as the Thirteenth Gorge some 16km away.

And though freshwater crocodiles are right at home in this sort of ecosystem (there are estimated to be around 140 freshwater crocodiles living in Katherine Gorge, with around a quarter of these found in the First Gorge) occasionally the odd saltwater crocodile (actually an estuarine species) makes it the full 380km upstream from the mouth of the river to the gorge - usually these are young males who have been chased away by larger males (who are extremely territorial) from other prospective territories further downstream. As a result of this, the rangers at Nitmiluk NP survey the gorge system for saltwater crocodiles before allowing kayakers to enter the gorge each Dry Season. This involves both night-time and aerial spotting, baiting and trapping, with any saltwater crocodiles being relocated and a full 4-6 weeks passing without any sightings before the okay is given to open up the gorge system. Any 'salties' that do make it this far upstream are likely to only make it as far as the First Gorge, so this remains closed to kayakers and swimmers year-round, just in case.

Having secured myself a rental kayak for the next two days, I was down at the boat dock by 7:45am (Thursday 29th July) to check-in for my boat transfer to the start of the Second Gorge, only to be told that I was not allowed to leave my backpack there - despite having been told the opposite four days earlier - meaning that I had to leave it under a nearby tree until I returned the following afternoon! Thankfully I elected to put my rain cover over the top - despite the fact that the chances of any rain falling were virtually zero - as this was right in the heart of the resident flying fox colony and I didn't particularly want to return to a backpack covered in bat piss! But with the prospect of spending two full days in the heart of Katherine Gorge to look forward to, it would take a lot more than this little setback to sour my mood.

After enjoying a leisurely cruise through the First Gorge, we disembarked the boat; grabbed our life jackets, paddles and kayaks; and hit the water. Although there were 46 kayakers in all, the vast majority were only half-day or full-day hires - most of whom would make it no further than the Third Gorge (which is also as far as the tour boats go). So with a full day ahead of me to make it up to the campsite in Sixth Gorge, I waited for the crowds to disperse before setting a leisurely pace through the Second Gorge, revelling in the majesty of those spectacular cliffs rising up sheer out of the water on either side of the river.

By the time I made it to the end of the Second Gorge a queue had formed, as people of all shapes and sizes tried to figure out how best to negotiate the short portage that led up through a shallow set of rapids to the Third Gorge. Never having had to portage a kayak before, I figured that the best way forward would be to stick to the main flow of the stream - so as to use the water to take the weight of my kayak - rather than trying to lift it over the rocks to the side of the river as most of the other people seemed to be doing. And with my trusty shandals on my feet (which I don't use very often, though every time I do I am extremely grateful to have them!) it took me no time at all to negotiate the portage, and in doing so I had managed to pass half of the day-trippers!

Pressing on up the Third Gorge I eventually came to a slightly longer set of rapids that had to be negotiated, followed by another... and another... and another! But still none of these obstacles presented too much of a challenge, and aside from adding a sense of adventure to the journey it also felt delightfully invigorating to wade through the cool, clear waters. By the time I reached the Fourth Gorge the crowd had well and truly thinned, and from that point on I would see only two other couples for the rest of the day - both of whom were also bound for the campsite at Sixth Gorge.

Passing through Fourth Gorge I had the pleasure of getting a close-up look at the imposing profile of Smitt Rock again - this time from the wet side - before passing through another pair of easy portages to arrive at the deep, narrow and truly spectacular Fifth Gorge. It was here that the different layers of rock within the gorge (laid down one on top of the other back when the area was a vast river delta) were displayed to full effect. After passing beneath a couple of low overhangs l arrived at a short but steep portage that included a metre-high waterfall. This would prove to be the only portage that I emptied my kayak out for - thankfully I had packed ultra-light, with all of my gear fitting into just a small dry sack and the pack liner from my backpack - and with my single kayak being not only light but also extremely buoyant, I was able to manhandle it up the rapids by myself without too much trouble. I did however stop to give the young couple behind me a hand getting their double kayak up the small waterfall, as they wondered aloud just how many more of these rocky scrambles we would have to negotiate in order to make it to our campsite!

The answer was not many, for after passing through another two lengthy but straightforward portages, my intuition that we must be getting close to our destination proved to be spot on, and as I rounded a bend shortly after reaching what I hoped was the Sixth Gorge (it was) I was greeted by the sight of a steep, sandy beach rising up on my right-hand side, with a 'Sixth Gorge campsite' sign standing proudly atop the sandy slope. I let out a whoop of delight, before doubling back to confirm to the couple behind me that we had in fact reached the end of our aquatic obstacle course! Never has suffering been so much fun.

Having taken around four hours to negotiate just 6km of river (and under a blazing hot sun) I didn't need any invitation to go for a cooling swim, and careening down the steep, sandy bank to plunge headlong into that deep, inviting pool - surrounded on all sides by towering cliffs - was a truly memorable moment. I had also managed to arrive at the campsite just as hunger started to take hold, and so as I air-dried myself I cooked up a hearty feed of teriyaki rice with mashed potato, before setting my tent up on the soft sand at the top of the slope, overlooking a four-way break in the cliffs as the main gorge carrying the river flowed in an East-West direction, while the dry side-gorge in which our campsite was located joined at right angles from the South, and another dry gorge entered from the North directly opposite. Quite the spectacular junction indeed; and not a bad view to gaze out at from the comfort of my tent, let me tell you!

After relaxing for a while and taking in the peace and solitude of my surroundings - by which time the older of the two couples had arrived, completing our party of five - I then set off with an empty kayak to explore further upstream, hoping all the while that I might be able to reach the Eighth Gorge where I had camped on my recent hiking trip. But having consulted the canoe guide to Nitmiluk NP that I had downloaded to my phone, I decided that perhaps discretion might be the better part of valour, after reading that the Seventh Gorge offered just five minutes worth of paddling followed by '5 portages, totalling about 40 minutes of hard work'! Sure enough, upon reaching the far end of the Sixth Gorge I found the double kayak belonging to the younger couple, who I then spotted lying back contentedly on a rock slab just above the rapids.

But the portage didn't look difficult so I pressed onwards, only to be faced with another portage not much further on. This one also looked reasonably straightforward, but with the sun sinking towards the cliff-line I decided that perhaps it was best not to push on too far; and so I ditched the kayak and continued on foot across a natural rock pavement just above the water, until eventually I could see up ahead what looked suspiciously like the same blackened cliff-face - which in the Wet Season would presumably be a waterfall - that I had swum beneath (and later perched on top of) while I was camped at Eighth Gorge two days earlier. As far as I was concerned, that was good enough for me - and so I returned to my kayak and made my way slowly back to the lower end of Sixth Gorge, riding a couple of tiny rapids (but mostly just getting stuck on rocks!) in an attempt to avoid having to reverse my earlier portages.

After relaxing back at camp and then enjoying dinner under the stars - after which I spied a cat of all things in a break in the cliffs just above the campsite - I took the lead of my younger companions and went for a brief night-time paddle by torchlight. While I did spot a rather bright red eye just above the waterline on the opposite bank of the river - which I was hoping would belong to a freshwater crocodile - by the time I moved closer to investigate it had disappeared. So I had to make do with a pair of cavorting birds, who displayed some admirable aerial acrobatics in the beam of my head torch; as well as some 10cm long freshwater crayfish in the shallows right beside the beach.

But a curious highlight of my little water-borne spotlighting session would have to have been watching the resident fish swimming around in the vicinity of my kayak, as for the most part the water was too dark to see their bodies, so that all I would see was a single bright red eye darting around this way and that just below the surface! And then just to add to the sensory overload, I would turn my light off and simply lie back looking up at the stars - which with the nearest town being Katherine thirty kilometres away, and the river being surrounded by sheer cliffs on all sides  (so that we were completely isolated from any artificial light) were pretty impressive indeed!

With my boat back down the First Gorge not due until 5pm the next day (midday being my only other option) I was in no hurry at all to get going in the morning, and even when I did I couldn't resist paddling back up Sixth Gorge a short way. But eventually the realization that I still had those same ten portages to negotiate to get back to my starting point was enough to stir me into action, and it was then that I discovered just how much easier it was to portage with the current, rather than against it. At times I would even stay seated in the kayak and try to simply drag it over the rocks with me in it - while at others I would try to run some of the little rapids - but more often than not I succeeded only in getting the hull of the boat stuck on every sizeable rock within the general vicinity of my intended route! I was left in no doubt that this 'technical' (ie rocky) style of kayaking was not for me.

But once again I didn't find the portages particularly difficult, and the invigorating feeling of being immersed anywhere from ankle to chest deep in those turbulent waters had certainly not worn off overnight, so I tried to enjoy the experience as much as possible... even if getting out of the kayak, lowering it down the rapids without losing hold of it, and then squeezing my long legs back into the front of the boat proved virtually impossible to do without repeatedly knocking and re-opening the wound I had sustained on my left shin during my hike on Hinchinbrook Island a fortnight earlier. Oh well, at least there was plenty of fresh water with which to wash the wound clean!

After paddling and portaging as far as the small campsite at Fourth Gorge, I decided to double back and try to find a shaded, rocky (as opposed to sandy) spot somewhere nearby to take an extended lunch break. Directly opposite the far end of Smitt Rock I found the perfect place - an overhang about two metres high and twenty metres long with a line of boulders creating a sort of landing dock, and with birds' nests built into the ceiling of the overhang. I would end up spending the next couple of hours in this peaceful little hiding place, with only a single group of four kayakers passing by during my blissfully quiet stay. Unfortunately I managed to drop my lightweight camp spoon between the rocks, adding this to a casualty list that already included my sunglasses, which had first broken and then disappeared during the multiple portages of the previous day. Still, three pairs of lost or broken sunglasses in a little under nine months is pretty damn good by my standards - I once went through four pairs in only a six-week road-trip!

Back in (and out) of the kayak, I was surprised to find that it took me little more than half-an-hour to negotiate the four combined portages separating the Fourth and Third Gorges, and once down in the Third Gorge I had the opportunity to embark on a couple of little side-trips that I had skipped on my way upstream. The first of these was a short hike up to the plunge pool on Lily Ponds Creek (downstream - and well below - the swimming hole that I had cooled off in on the first day of my hike earlier in the week), where a vast pool of somewhat stagnant water lay at the base of rugged cliffs, creating a spectacular amphitheatre that would no doubt be even more impressive in the Wet Season with a waterfall thundering down from above.

Back on the river I had only just started paddling again when I glimpsed what looked like a series of wooden stakes (they turned out to be steel posts) embedded in the rock high above the river at the base of some sheer cliffs. Fully aware that there are no straight lines in nature, I figured they must mark the location of an aboriginal rock art gallery that I'd not been able to find any sign of the previous day (not surprising considering the cliff in question faced upstream) so once again I beached my kayak and headed off on foot, this time clambering up and around broken rocks on what could optimistically be described as a 'footpad', before emerging at the base of the cliffs to find an impressive collection of rock art featuring what looked like cormorants (or possibly little egrets) painted in vivid golden-orange hues, with human figures represented in a darker, purple-red colour.

These artworks appeared more vivid than the ones I had come across in the Jawoyn Valley a few days earlier, and the choice of birds was hardly surprising given that I had spotted numerous cormorants and egrets during my time on the river - presumably the avian inhabitants of the gorge system had changed little since the time that these artworks were painted many millenia ago. Another feature of this particular rock art gallery - again housed underneath an overhang (and high enough up to escape even the peak Wet Season floodwaters) to prevent weathering - was the incredible view over a scenic bend in the Third Gorge, with steep slopes rising up from the water on either side. Those aborigines sure knew a special place when they found one.

With a couple of hours still to kill and nor far left to paddle, I paddled back out into the centre of the gorge and let the gentle current and strengthening afternoon breeze carry me slowly downstream, relishing the shade provided by the sheer (and in places overhanging) cliffs rising up from the right bank of the Katherine River. I also managed to find a couple of little caves at water level to chill out in, with one of them being just big enough for me to reverse my kayak into and then effectively 'park' myself between the rocky sides, with the wall of cliffs on the opposite bank of the gorge being the only thing visible from my little bolthole, other than the river itself.

Eventually finding myself back down in the Second Gorge, I plotted a course through the various right-angled bends of the waterway, making sure to explore all of the hidden corners along the way. And then, after passing beneath the intimidating precipice of Jeddah's Rock, I ended up back where I had started at the bottom end of Second Gorge. I'd spent 33 hours in this winding labyrinth, nestled within the rocky heart of a timeless landscape; and felt an overwhelming sense of gratitude for the opportunity I had been given. Few places have I visited that have instilled in me the sense of reverence I felt towards that gorge and it's wonderful waterway, which brings life in abundance to an otherwise dry and harsh environment. This is the sort of place you feel in your soul as much as see with your eyes, and is all the more unforgettable for it.


post-script:
After taking the cruise back down through the First Gorge towards the boat shed where I had started out - passing no less than three freshwater crocodiles basking by the side of the river - I discovered to my dismay that my backpack was no longer lying underneath the tree where I had left it the previous morning; and with everything having closed by this time there was nothing I could do but spend the night at the nearby campground (as I had planned to do anyway) and hope to recover my backpack the following morning.

So after heading back down to the boat shed and waiting for the 8am load of kayakers to leave on their cruise up the First Gorge, I spoke to the same 'Dragon Lady' who had been so adamant two days earlier that under no circumstances would I be able to store my backpack there. I wasn't really surprised when she told me just as emphatically that there was no way my backpack could possibly be anywhere out the back of the shed - nor was she prepared to take ten seconds out of her busy schedule to actually take a look for me - and that any enquiries should be directed to the help desk at the nearby visitor centre. When no trace of my backpack could be found up there either, the manager was called. After explaining my situation and describing my backpack, she tried radioing through to the boat shed. Thankfully she spoke to the Dragon Lady's companion - who immediately located my backpack... at the back of the boat shed.

When I returned to collect it I was once again confronted by the Dragon Lady waiting behind the counter. As soon as she saw me she motioned to the back door of the shed and said "oh, your backpack's just in there. Sorry, I didn't see it when I walked in this morning." I had no doubt she would have had to climb over it on her way into the shed that morning, but thanked her anyway. Having finally made it back to the campground I was then in the process of re-packing everything for the 30km walk back out to Katherine, when a friendly couple of campers walked over to ask me whether they could take my now-vacant (and thoroughly-shaded) campsite. We struck up a conversation and at one point they asked me what my immediate plans were. When I mentioned I was about to head back to Katherine they told me that as soon as they were finished washing and hanging up their clothes they would be driving into Katherine themselves, and that if I was prepared to wait around for an hour or so they would be happy to give me a lift. I replied that if it meant avoiding a six-hour walk in the scorching heat with a full backpack on, I would be prepared to wait around all day if necessary!

By midday I was back in Katherine putting my feet up at Coco's House, the quirky hostel just a block back from the main road where I had spent the night a week earlier. So when all was said and done, I had ended up not only with secure luggage storage, but a free shuttle service into Katherine as well!

Thank you, Dragon Lady. Much appreciated.

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Photos

Timeless Beauty
View of Third Gorge from the aboriginal rock art gallery

Hole in the Wall
Taking time out under an overhang in the Second Gorge

Cleft in the Cliffs
Passing the mouth of Butterfly Gorge

The Rocky Road Ahead
The first portage, between the Second and Third Gorges

Rocky Ramparts
Passing through Third Gorge

Beach Getaway
Passing a sandbank on the way to Smitt Rock in Fourth Gorge

The Final Obstacle
My kayak perched atop the tenth and final portage below Sixth Gorge

Life's a Beach
The campsite at Sixth Gorge

Campsite with a View
The view from my tent at the campsite in Sixth Gorge

The Labyrinth Continues...
View up Seventh Gorge towards the campsite above Eighth Gorge (just beyond the blackened cliff at the far end)

Boulder Problem
Approaching the most inimidating rock bar on the way back downstream

Red Rock Reflections
Approaching the shaded campsite in Fourth Gorge, with not a ripple on the water

Shaded Lunch Stop
Taking an extended break under an overhang opposite Smitt Rock in Fourth Gorge

Rocky Amphitheatre
The plunge pool at Lily Ponds, long after the waterfall has run dry

Ancient Artwork
Aboriginal art gallery high up on the cliffs above Third Gorge

The Echoing Silence
View from a little riverside cave in Third Gorge

Rising up from the Depths
Passing Jeddah's Rock on the way back through Second Gorge

Dwarfed by Rock
The cliffs of Smitt Rock, at the end of Fourth Gorge

Cliffs and Rapids
Towering cliffs between the Third and Fourth Gorges

Sand Castle
A view fit for a king in Sixth Gorge

A fitting end to an unforgettable day
Watching the daylight fade in Sixth Gorge