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Wanting to hunt the Territory again, but cheaply, Matt Graham of Hunt Australia having given to me details of a property that could be hunted, with Karl his PH at the time it was last used, giving a lot of details. I and a couple of other fellows, decided to head up to the Northern Territory to the Daly Waters area for a week of hunting and fishing. Pigs, donkeys were hoped for. And with some rivers in the area, including a couple of large waterholes nearby the camp, we also took along some fishing gear.

One of our group could only spare a week's hunting, plus the driving up and back, so unfortunately it would not be possible to venture any further North.

Leaving the Barossa a lot later than intended due to some finance deadlines that couldn't be avoided, I met up with the other two guys early in the morning in Port Pirie for the loading up of the Landcruiser plus a trailer. We had a substantial number of jerry cans (11) for fuel along, empty for the drive up, as we had been advised to take along a considerable amount of fuel to the property.

A couple of bush camps on the side of the road on the way up, including some time to replace the bald tyres on Danny's trailer in Tennant Creek and then a final stocking up of goods especially fuel in Daly Waters.

On the way up, an unusual sighting of a Rhino in the Aussie Desert.

Outside the residence of an ex-pat Rhodie perhaps? Or a mad Africaphile? Who knows?

A couple of hours drive off the bitumen through another cattle station and we were at the gate to our hunting property. Then to the station house.

The owner was off mustering cattle, but we were directed to the camp it had been suggested we stay at. It was actually on Aboriginal land, and actually on the station to the North, so it would be necessary to also visit them and let the owner of that property know, and get permission to make sure it was OK. The property had also changed hands (ownership) since Hunt Aust had last been there.

Now the fun started.

The track we were directed to use, right on the boundary fence, was NOT well used and very rough. We also ended up driving in the dark. Through various rocky hills, gullies, bounces and bumps, the going was very very very slow, 1st gear low wheel range. The camp was a lot further away than we thought it would be, or were told it was.

Then the cruch. Literally. Going through a creek, there was an aweful crunch, the creek wall dropped off suddenly, on stone, and the trailer did not like it. We managed to bend the A frame arm on the trailer.

It was dark, hours after dusk, so we decided to camp on the crappy track for the night and see what to do the next morning. I thought about walking a couple of kms to see if the camp was close, but wisely decided not to, seeing the problems the next day!

The next morning, we unhitched the trailer then set off to see what the track ahead was like and where the camp was. First driving to the left, we were told it was in the neighbouring property, we went through the boundary gate. Driving along we found another track heading East and tried that. It had been used recently, but got rougher and rougher, and eventually disappeared. We did find some several kilometre long deep waterholes, except the camp was obviously on the other side somewhere. Later we found out the property owner had had a picnic on the spot the previous weekend with his family.

Backtracking, we found another track further South. Again arrived at the waterholes except too far to the West.

Then back through the boundary gate, and a km along, a gate and another track to the North, a kilometre along that and the white buildings of the camp were in the sight. At last! Only took five hours to find the camp that morning! As said, glad we didn't try to walk it the previously night!

The camp was also a bit different from when Karl, Matt's PH had last used it, a year or two earlier. The water tank on the hill had been removed or stolen. The toilet building had tipped over, the bore cable and hose had been chopped up by someone with an axe .... One of the buildings had a rotting dead roo in it, and the others were less than savoury ..... so we decided we would camp in the verandah of one of the buildings and put the fuel, generator and fridge in the other. No need for the tents we had brought along. However only when we got all that gear to the camp.

Back to the trailer. Unloaded it, pushed and pulled the trailer through the creek by hand, and towed it up the other side. Piled most of the fuel on the side of the track, and loaded up the car as much as possible, and the rest of the stuff in the trailer. Then to the camp, a relatively uneventful trip.

Went for a drive to the neighbours station house and met the guy there at his sheds. Seemed a nice enough guy, seeing we had effectively invited ourselves onto HIS property! To stay in the buildings as our camp. I then asked him about fishing and got the OK, and then asked if we could hunt some pigs and donkeys if we saw any. After a moments thought, he gave us permission. It helps to have the OK and recommendation of a neighbour ie the property to the South.

As it turned out the better hunting areas were all on his land, so it was for the best - for us. But we couldn't hunt too far North on his property as he was mustering there.

But he also advised us of two other tracks on his land which went to the camp from the main track, and they were far better tracks. Did not use the other AGAIN! Except to pick up some fuel and tank up when needed.

Finally the next morning we could actually hunt. Walking on the South side of the waterholes and river, we walked in a line. After a few kilometres I had lost sight of the other two guys, having had to climb a hill and then hit a body of water. I thought the two guys were in front of me, and had turned South. But following the water, I found out it was only a billabong and not the main river, which did turn South further on.

Decided to have a sit down, drink, and listen. Listening is useful, as after a while I could hear donkey's calling due South of me, and also along the river further on. So not knowing where the other guys were, also my UHF radio wasn't set properly so my calls out weren't being received, I decided to head off in a different direction and find the calling donkeys. The UHF was new, and later found the setting which increased its range.

Maybe four kilometres along, a kilometre off the river, I bumped into three donkeys. They hadn't called for a while, but I had obviously set the right direction.

Two of the three donkeys.

I was carrying my older model BLR in .308, as shooting could be at a distance, the main targets being pigs and donkeys. I did bring along the 9.3 and .450 but only shot the sighting in target with them. The 9.3 also has shotgun barrels if needed, but no waterfowl in the area either.

Walking further into the bush, I didn't spot anymore donks, so set a course back to camp to arrive early in the afternoon. The other guys weren't there, so had some lunch and read a book for a while.

A couple of hours later, Danny came walking into camp, and needed a drink of water, having exhausted his on a long walk of maybe 10 kms along the river, in a certain direction. He had sighted lots of crocodiles in the pools. After this he carried more water. In any case the River water was probably drinkable.

Later Phil arrived. Phil had hunted a series of waterholes East of the River, and had encounters some pigs and donkeys, which he had shot.

Phil decided to stay in camp that evening but Danny and I took the Landcruiser South then cut across to the River and hunt some new country down there. We left a bit late so drove in as far as reasonable then cut over to the River on foot. I quickly found Danny's footprints there, this was were he had walked that morning it seemed. There wasn't any game moving about so before it was dark we gave up and back to camp.

We had brought with a solar shower each, so a welcome warm shower and meal that night.

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John aka NitroX

...
Govt get out of our lives NOW!
"I love the smell of cordite in the morning."
"A Sharp spear needs no polish"

Another day, I forget which it was, we drove South on the boundary fence track again, but much further down. This track was more reasonable and good going. A few wash outs and small creeks to cross, including one larger river, dry, that needed some engineering work with spade and arms to fill in a stony drop with stones to allow a tyre to cope with the drop. The stones lasted for the journey down at least. Then to another much larger river way, where we parked, and the plan was to travel across the boundary into the station country outside where the main river ran. This area was still part of the main cattle station but I believe is unused for running cattle. A large area of unfenced country.

Even though we had maps, I was a bit confused about the river in front of us cutting East to West. Later I worked out it was a tributary of the main river and not the main river which would eventually also turn to the West but further down.

The three of us crossed the fence, Phil on the Southern far bank, Danny in the river bed, and I took the Northern bank. I think eventually Danny moved up and joined Phil on his bank when a large waterhole covered the river bed. At this point there was a fork in the river, the main river running due South and also to the North. With the rough country I again lost track of the two other guys, but we came to several large waterholes, one of which had evidence of a fair number of crocodiles. I decided I wanted some photos of the crocs, and stalking along the river bank, sighted a number, but they were very shy and quickly dipped into the water to hide. So it was going to be a game and wait and see, pick a good sport and wait for them to return to the open.

The waterhole in the river where I spent many hours trying to get photos of the Johnson's crocodiles inhabitating this waterhole.

Another view from the thickly forested banks. Getting along near the water involved lots of pushing through the trees and bushs and especially if trying to be quiet.

The ground is littered with bark and dry leaves. Walking quietly meant putting one's boot down carefully and slowly rolling the sole. Otherwise I'm not sure why I took this photo!

First pass along the banks, I saw lots of crocs, usually as they slid into the water. No photographs. Yep there was a good croc in the photo above, but gone by the time the photo was taken!

Another good spot!

Another!

Here's a little fellow, spying on me from the water.

This rock had a small croc sunning on it. It took me 30 minutes to stalk it, but it left before I got a photo. Took a pic of the rock instead!

The small land "crocs" are easier! Here a small lizard or gecko suns himself.

There's a small croc in this photo. You have to look hard!

Using bonoculars is important in trying to spot them before they spot you, so they can be stalked.

Moo!

While sitting very quietly and still over a likely location, some scrub cattle came pushing through the bush and were surprised to find me. Luckily no angry bulls as I had left my rifle and day pack elsewhere so I could move more quietly.

A gully had a number of trees absolutely infested with thick spider webs.

Eagles fly over. Maybe they think I am so still, I am carrion and dead?

Outside a couple of hundred metres of thick bush, the countryside here is dry and sparse. At least in this place. Elsewhere there are thick grasslands wonderful for cattle.

This is more like it. Little bugger checking me out.

Got you 2! This little Johnson's took me three stalk attempts before I finally got him.

Another on a rock.

Even better.

A dinosaur floats along in the water.

It was interesting to watch a small herd of cattle approach the water to have a drink. They stopped and stared at the water for a long time before wading in to drink. While I am pretty sure there were no saltwater crocodiles anywhere in this area, the cattle seemed not so sure.

Cattle drinking spot.

At last I got the photo I tried for several hours to get. I saw this bigger Johnson's several times, but he was VERY elusive and shy.

I hadn't heard from the other guys on the radio for many hours. I had got through to them telling them I intended to take photos of the crocs and had expected them to come back past this pool sometime. Hadn't seen a sight of them, so instead head off to the other side of the river to hunt the country there, heading East and later South. Found some sign of pigs and a number of wet billabongs, and moist muddy billabongs, plus dry ones. Hunted along the billabongs ready for a quick shot if a pig erupted from the bush. Did find some more scrub cattle. Turned to the South so to get closer to the vehicle as I hunted along.

Heard some donkeys braying in the distance and it was the right direction so hunted down that way. The bush was otherwise pretty quiet, though did surprise the occaisional wallaby or kangaroo. This area was far South enough for full sized kangaroos to still be resident.

Did not find the donkeys, found tracks, but they led to nothing.

Decided it was time to head back towards the vehicle. Perhaps the other guys were waiting there? And its best not to be out in the bush in the dark, so heading that way was wise.

I got to say my GPS was playing up. If I put it while still on in my pocket, when pulled out it showed the WRONG directions, using the sun's position as a gauge. Perhaps some body magnetic energy was ffffing it up?! Very disconcerting indeed! If I removed the battery completely it seemed to work again.

Eventually cut the river bed again using the sun as a guide and headed South along along it. Walked for a couple of kilometres and then decided this was bullshit. It can't be right so changed direction and headed back the other way. As I said earlier we thought the main river was the river heading West/East where the vehicle was parked, but using the map it was obvious this was an smaller tributary. I was on the main river and walking away from the vehicle. Eventually if keep heading South I would have hit the main station house, but another 15 kms if not more! It was hot so had a rest in the shade to collect my wits.

Heading North along the creek, eventually I hit the main fork or Y junction in the river, but it looked very different from this angle. A large pool of water filled the Y, but even more interesting, a herd of ASSES

(donkeys) were looking at me from the opposite side. Raising the rifle I shot at a couple, and the rest ran off. Now the fun, off I went, slid down the 25 foot river bank there, at a rush, around the pool, had to climb the other side using roots to pull myself up, as the banks there are very smooth, mud and otherwise sheer bare walls. Along that bank, down another drop and across to the foot of the bank where the donks had been. Up that and after them, probably sure they were long gone.

But no, soon caught up and with and began a running battel firing at them. I had three five shot magazines and went through them, dropping some donks, and having to reshoot some to finsih them off.

I had a couple of donks, one wounded walking a couple hundred metres away, and as I crossed an open stony area, to have a scrub bull come running in to see what was going on. He was above me on the slope about 50 metres away and NOT HAPPY! I don't think he liked his donkey friends being shot!

he kept coming but stopped to stare at me beligerently from above. Now I thought, how loaded is my rifle? I backed up and away and checked the magazine. One bullet in the chamber, and nothing in ANY of the magazines! Time to load up one, in case of a charge. One bullet might not do it!

Then thought, stuff it, crossed in front of him, giving him the evil eye, try it and die, to chase the donks again. I finished off the wounded one and killed another.

Now very thirsty, had a drink and calmed down. Where was I? Where was the river? No problem, I would head West and hit the fenceline somewhere along where the car was parked. The other guys must have heard the barrage of shots, but no answer on the UHF? Only a kilometre to the fenceline and not that far to the South the vehicle was parked in the sun, empty and no one there.

Got the keys, started it, and parked it better in some shade. Got the vehicle UHF going and radioed and left it on. Had something to eat, and waited. It was getting dark.

Eventually heard Danny on the radio. The other two guys had decided to walk all the way back to the camp, shot nothing on the way (I think?), and Danny was on the roof of the building trying to get through to me.

OK, so off in the Landcruiser, the steep river stony bank crossing might be interesting, but piling up a lot of stones again, got the vehicle up and over, though the back tyres did spin all the stones away and got up on the top of rocky ridge before they all disappeared. Lucky that as I only had a hand winch and there was only one of me, but fine, and off back to camp.

Another day finished.

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John aka NitroX

...
Govt get out of our lives NOW!
"I love the smell of cordite in the morning."
"A Sharp spear needs no polish"