Undara lies on the western slopes of the Great Dividing Range where the weather has transitioned from the coastal rains of Cairns, through cool and cloudy on the top, to clear blue skies and heat to the west. Heading west from Undarra, a road sign might have said: “No Clouds Until Darwin”.

After Undara there is little to report other than to say it was a 6 day blast through a vast amount of not very much. For Kiwis reading this, think of the MacKenzie Basin as a 5 cent coin being tossed into the middle of a footie pitch – that might give a clue to the terrain and the scale.

Friends Dagy and Odette both suggested our tent was too big. Our little tent below left

is supposed to be wide enough for three people but we are left wondering what sort of relationship three people sharing it might have. My head touches one end while my feet are up against the door. There is a covered ‘vestibule’ front and back for storing stuff out of  sight. By contrast, at a camp site at Camooweal, we met Nick and Yvette who were also doing a lap of Aussie but for whom nothing smaller than the whopper of a tent (on the right above) would do!

After Mount Garnet, our overnight camps were at: Mount Surprise, Normanton, Cloncurry, Camooweal (we entered Northern Territory immediately west of this unremarkable place – look closely at the sign) ………….

………………. Three Ways, then 556 kms up to Mataranka (wonderful dawn dip in a natural hot spring) finally arriving in Kathryn on 16 August, some 317 Kms south of Darwin.

Notts Crossing Tourist Park was our Kathryn base, staying 3 nights. On 18^th we made a day trip to Beswick, an aboriginal community about an hour SE of Kathryn. Here we were treated to a gallery of local Aboriginal art works and had lengthy chats with Tom Lewis who manages the place and organises the annual “Walking with Spirits” festival. Sorry – no photos to share.

This tourism attraction is superbly well done. Jerry Collins, a major station owner and beef producer in the eighties, learned about the virtues of diversification having found himself over-geared as Aussie went into the nineties recession. Having sold off some stations and negotiated a unique deal with the Queensland Government, he was left with a much-reduced beef operation and a lease of a small portion (“Lava-Tube-Land”) of his old and first cattle station, the rest of that station having become a National Park. The two hour tour of the Lava Tubes (example right)involved a solid delivery of information pitched just right. Lava tubes were created when the last volcano in the region erupted approximately190,000 years ago. The shallow gradient caused the lava to flow slowly, solidifying on the top to form a crust with the flowing lava underneath naturally finding and flowing down watercourses, in some cases for around 60 kms. The super-hot flowing lava cuts into the igneous massive granite below and essentially, a tubular-shaped hole opens up between flowing and solidified lava. In the places where the roof of the tubes collapse, the rain forest vegetation that was on the surface at the times, thousands of years later, continues to exist in the resultant depression, creating deep green islands on an arid sparsely vegetated landscape. These islands we explored by the Aboriginal people with the Lava Tube caves probably being regarded with suspicion and therefore not used as living places.

We had ridden 3,100 kilometres from Sydney to Cairns and then driven Landie about 2,000 kms round trip up Cape York and back. About 5 weeks later than expected, on 9 August, with both bikes fully sorted, we were ready to hit the road again. Darwin lay 7 days riding away if we averaged 400 kms per day. Photo below shows the kilometre reading on my bike. After the previous ill-fated attempt in the rain, we picked a ‘weather hole’ and left Cairns between major showers and before some real wet weather arrived. This time the exit route was south of Cairns and up the Gillies Pass, onto the Atherton Tablelands for the inevitable cuppa at Café Louise in Atherton. Night One was at Mount Garnet, not far short of the Undara Lava Tubes. Due to the extent to which we were behind schedule, this was to be the only attraction we interrupted our blast west for.

 

We found a friendly little motel complex in north Cairns – The Balinese –  that had the advantage of being a short walk from The Cock and Bull pub, resplendent with wall-mounted flat-screen TVs all showing sport. Our initial stay was between the house sit and trip in Landie which coincided with an early British and Irish Lion’s Tour game against the Maori All Blacks. After Cape York, we returned again long enough to see the 1^st test.  Then, when departing Cairns in the rain on 3 July for the journey west, we both came off on a diesel-soaked left-hand bend. I hit it first and slithered across the oncoming lane and into a rock face. Louise had a second or so of notice and came off more delicately.

So back to Cairns and the Balinese to sort the bikes out.

 This involved insurance claims with mine being a write-off. Two major strokes of luck: (i) I wasn’t a write-off, not even bruised; (ii) A BMW F650GS was on Gum Tree in north Cairns. I bought the beaut red bike (left), same model as Loise’s beyond it. While the to and fro was going on with the insurance company, we left for a 6 day Workaway Stay (similar to WWOOF) on a Daintree property where I was able to draw upon landscaping skills acquired on our Tai Tapu property, such as building steps up steep banks and making retaining walls. Below are

the two structures I had a hand in at Peter and Peggy’s gorgeous property close to the Daintree River.

Then back to the Balinese.

While in the Daintree I heard the dreadful news that my special uncle in Colchester had died so off to England we flew on 21 July to attend a family funeral on 31^st. For most of the time we were there we stayed with Sophie and Logan in Winchester, a beautiful historic city surrounded by classic English countryside. Sophie demonstrated the quality of her father’s parenting skills by taking us to the Wykham Arms as soon as we had dropped our bags. Before the table above became available, standing in that fine example of a fine old English pub with Sophie, Louise and Logan, supping a pint of hand-pulled Gales HSB (Horndean Special Bitter), was a beautiful moment in time.

The Colchester Thompson family had arranged a small, family-only service on 31 July with a larger celebration of a magnificent life well lived on 2 September. It was good to get there to be part of the occasion on 31 July despite the rawness and pain that my cousins and Auntie were suffering. Since most people reading this will not know the personalities involved, little else will be noted here except to say thanks to the Colchester Clan for keeping me in the loop and inviting me to both. On the flights back to Far North Queensland there was plenty of time to reflect on D. E. M. Thompson and what a wonderful man and Uncle he was. I shall miss him a lot.

And so it was back to The Balinese on 4 August.

Both bikes were going to receive attention in the Cairns BMW garage while we were away with the hope that all would be sorted when we returned. This proved to be wishful thinking but with terrific service from Westco Motors, Cairns, and Will Lamberton in particular, we were finally ready to go late on 8th.

Bye-bye Balinese.

 

 

 

 

Only the Monitor Lizard in the previous post (below) was captured on camera but as we rumbled up and down Cape York in Landie we saw:

Small snakes, dead and alive, were spotted on the road, the former being a little broader than the latter;

Small kangaroos bounced off into the roadside scrub before 9am most mornings;

Birds included: Cockatoos, Red-tailed Black Cockatoos, Laughing Kookaburras; Kite; Sea Eagle; Galah; Rainbow Bee-eater; White Ibis; Lorikeet;

One saltie 400 metres away;

One skinny rather dishevelled dingo loped into the road ahead, paused to look at Landie, then darted into the bush;

Monitor Lizards;

Then when back in Cairns ……

…………. butterflies in Cairns Botanic Gardens.

 

 

On 18 June we collected our Land Rover Defender “Landie” for a 12 day exploration of Cape York Peninsula. Why not take the bikes? The combination of extreme ‘off-road’ conditions with numerous fords and our relative inexperience at off-road biking led us to hiring a 4×4 vehicle that is rugged, has a roof tent, and doors that can keep the outside outside. We’d been told that Cape York rental vehicles only last a couple of seasons and our bikes have most of Aussie yet to do.

By the time we had been introduced to “Landie” (left), then stocked up at a supermarket distance to go to our first stop in Cooktown.

Note how clean the beast is – tarmac only to this point.

 

 

 

On the way to Cooktown we passed the entrance to Kings Plains property (see section on The South Endeavour Trust) and Black Mountain (photo right). The surface is covered in granite blocks that are covered in a peculiar black lichen, collectively creating the impression of a massive slag heap.

Camp sites tend to be social places and we met a delightful couple from Tasmania also on a big trip around Aussie but they were in a big, well equipped Toyota 4×4. We agreed to team up and travel up the peninsula in convoy. The next day we travelled up the main road to Laura, north of which the tarmac became scarce. There we turned right and travelled through Rinyirru or Lakefield National Park to return to the main road at Musgrave Road House, our stop for the night. Here we saw our 1^st road train and the proprietor feed the freshwater crocodiles (“Freshies”) that lived in the pond behind.From Laura north the road became mostly unsealed ribbons of fine red dust. For stretches of road the passing wheels mould this into a seemingly endless corrugated red carpet which set Landie and ourselves juddering. The next morning Landie breakfasted on diesel after we had had our fruit and yogurt ration. Then back to the billowing dust and yes, to the fingers. Motorcyclists not affiliated to a gang tend to wave in acknowledgement of a fellow bike rider – always using the left hand – the other fully engaged holding the throttle open. Driving our trusty 4×4 Land Rover on the roads of Cape York, we found that 4×4 drivers observed a toned-down version of a friendly wave. Some stereotypes are well founded and hairy-arsed off-road cars tend to have hairy-arsed drivers with many of them being male. Whether it’s too friendly, too uncool or what, the full, open-handed wave is modified to be a finger raised off the steering wheel. If experiencing a fit of exuberance, he might raise multiple fingers in generous recognition of a fellow 4×4 motorist. We liked giving and getting the fingers.North of Musgrave both vehicles turned right to travel a couple of hours east to Chilly Beach in the Kutini-Payami or Iron Range National Park.North of Musgrave both vehicles turned right to travel a couple of hours east to Chilly Beach in the Kutini-Payami or Iron Range National Park. Our 4x4s had their first taste of creek crossings, a mere splash (right) above and mid-wheel depth below.

 

We visited the ranger who was flying out the next day for a holiday south. He seemed to yearn for the 4 months of the wet season when they are totally cut off and human visitors barred from entry. On to Chilly Beach (right) where the coconut trees around the camp site were being combed by a stiff easterly. Like all the other beautiful Cape York beaches we were to meet, it was strictly no swimming due to the increasing population of Salt Water Crocodiles (“Salties”).

Both couples and cars enjoyed the next day off from motoring in favour of local exploration.

Duly rested and two days without showers, we retraced our steps back to the road north

and pushed on up to Fruit Bat Falls, Elliots Falls and Twin Falls where we all enjoyed a refreshing swim. Getting from Fruit Bat to Elliot Falls involved a section of the notorious Telegraph Road track. We were encouraged by a fella called “Swampy” and his missus who plunged their machine straight into the creek, submerged to bonnet height, got semi-stuck, backed out and up the steep bank, then down into the creek 20 metres to the right (above). We followed, emerging with dripping cars and grinning faces the other side. More crossings followed, all of which had plenty to deter the faint hearted – which Swampy wasn’t. Great fun followed by a night camped in the bush.

Bush sounds, breakfast and up to the Jardine River Ferry (right). Guy and Denise’s 4×4 is pictured in front of Landie. There is only one road that gets you up to the south bank of Jardine River ……… and on north from the north bank ……. the ferry being the only means of joining up the dots. The operators take full advantage of this.

Thus, after a thorough fleecing, we continued on the short distance to Seisia where both couples took up adjacent camp sites behind the beach. We had a beautiful view of the stretch of water between us and a nearby island. The “No Swimming” rule was underlined by the sight of a big Saltie lying on the opposite beach about 400 metres away.

The four of us took the boat across to Thursday Island – “TI” to its friends. We managed to find a born-on-the-island taxi driver and part time crayfish diver who was our personal tour guide and kept us fascinated for nearly two hours. Zero unemployment, zero crime, 21st century medical and educational facilities and all courtesy of the Australian Government’s commitment to the protection of its borders from uninvited produce and people. The Old Fort on Thursday Island (above) was built in 1892 as a result of the hostile relationship that was developing between the Russian and British empires. Standing there and looking around the horizon at the Torres Strait Islands, the prospect of Russian war ships arriving at the end of the 19^th century did seem rather far fetched.

Thursday Island was a bit of a utopia with a historic mix of peoples from Torres Strait, Indonesia, Japan (former pearl divers), Malasia and doubtless others for good measure. In the TI Cemetery is a Shrine (right) to the Japanese pearl divers who lost their lives through accidents – which were plentiful. Notice the sculptured diving helmet. Divers used suits with bolt on helmets that had a pipe going up to the antiquated compressor on the boat above.

The trip to the very tip was more than the mandatory photo op next to the sign – below.

About 140 kilometres north was Papua New Guinea. Much closer were the nearest Torres Strait Islands of York and Eborac and between us and them was a seething tidal current whirling past.

Having indulged in side trips and the TI excursion our journey back was more of a dash south,

stopping at Archer River Road House, Laura and then at The Lion’s Den pub and camp ground by early afternoon. The 1 metre + Monitor Lizard was not overly impressed with Landie chugging along his personal stretch of road.

Getting there early allowed us to pick top spot near the river with plenty of time to swim in it. Later, in the pub, I sampled the beers that offered a sniff of merit and in each case was reminded what a desert Australia is for a beer lover with a palate. But the place had character, sold us tucker and saw us bump into other travellers we had met right back at Musgrave Road House.

We were heading south at the beginning of the school holidays and an armada of holiday-makers in 4x4s was heading the other way, imbuing us with a modest smack of smugness that we had sampled the peninsula in relative tranquillity.

The next day was our last with Landie so we headed away promptly to enjoy the Bloomfield Track south towards Daintree, passing Cape Tribulation along the way. The queue for the Daintree Ferry was only a dozen cars long going south. Once across we drove past a 2 km queue of patient motorists pointing north. Smugness revisited.

Finally back in Cairns on 29th June, we returned Landie in all his rustic red plumage, inside and out.

.

 

 

 

We arrived at Paul and Donna’s house in south Cairns in 1 June with them leaving on holiday the following day. So what did we do while based in Cairns?

The huge flat screen TV and Foxtel sports channel was a bit of a distraction. There was the Americas Cup which Team New Zealand went on to win, the British & Irish Lions Tour of NZ, the French tennis open at Roland Garros and the Isle of Man TT. Marvellous burst of sofa bashing.

We rode up and down Gillies Pass to the Atherton Tablelands a few times (Herberton Village Museum was absorbing – see Louise’s account of this magical place). we enjoyed a return to Thala Beach Lodge. Just to mention a few that spring to mind too many weeks hence.

Paul and Donna returned from Bali on 17th with us moving on minus bikes the next day ………

 

 

 

 

 

The plan is to travel around Australia on motorbikes. Why would we wish to spend 9 months in this way?  To explore the ‘top end’ in the winter months known as the  ‘Dry’; Enjoy warmth for 9 months; Expose ourselves to encounters with new places and people; Above all, to relish the freedom: the freedom to do so; the freedom of motorcycling in warm weather; the freedom to pick our places and plot our progress ‘off the cuff’. 

 

Meet The Bikes

Louise’s BMW F650 GS on the right.

My BMW F650 GS Dakar e on the left (with top box on). Both have paniers – not attached in the photo. They are categorized as ‘Adventure’ bikes meaning that as well as being ‘Road’ bikes, they are capable of off road jaunts. The Dakar variant is supposedly slightly more so but the rider needs to acquire off road skills which, with one slow speed spill on day one, I have yet to acquire.

The bikes attended pre-trip therapy classes at Motueka Motorcycles. In addition to such niceties as new steering head bearings, brake pads and a full service, each bike received a tailor-made reserve fuel tank, fabricated out of aluminium. There may well be occasions when we need an extended range between drinks.

Crating Up

On the weekend of 8/9 April we rode down to Christchurch from our newly acquired future patch of Nelson. At our second home of 476 Sparks Road, Halwell, which we generously share with Dagy and Carol, Dagy and I crated the bikes up ready for collection on 12^th. See photos below. Unfortunately, the collection of the bikes by the shippers was delayed by 24 hours during which time rain fell on the

magnificent crates ………………… with unfortunate implications yet to be realised.

Sydney Arrival

 

Our journey started at 2.30pm on Sunday 30 April, extricating ourselves from the assembled throng of guests attending Dagy and Carol’s May Day party, all huddled inside due to the foul weather. Big farewells, taxi, airport and click, seatbelts on and off we went. As we left terra firma, it was not an apt time to ponder what on earth we were doing yet ponder I did: The definites were: We were leaving dear friends and family behind for another protracted period; We were leaving our newly beloved Nelson; to conclude, we were waltzing away from good beer and comfort and heading to the great outback with all its bity creatures and its frozen fizz of industrial lager. All for the lure of the unknown.

For the 1^st week in Sydney we were made most welcome by Holly and Hamish. During this time we learned that by some random decision, Aussie Quarantine decided to inspect the bike crates – meaning a delay. Meantime we moved to Jean and Cathy’s house in north Sydney. Lady luck then played another black trump card. The Quarantine guys found a snail dozing on one of our bikes. This beast had slid into the crates during the wet delay at 476 Sparks Road. Many dollars and days later the snail was neutralised and the bikes delivered to Jean’s studio – see photos above.

Sydney Departure

Mick Ryan, a friend of Jean’s is a bike enthusiast and kindly took us for a ‘loop ride’ out of Sydney and back, just to check that all was well with our mounts. He enjoys off-road riding and was keen to give us a taste of it. We stopped at St Albans for a cuppa at the Settlers Inn where I experienced a mind flip. Walking in the door I passed from Australia into the bosom of an English pub, complete with hand pump.

But a cuppa it had to be.

Eventually, after interminable delays, numerous months of far from smooth planning and a building anticipation for the “off”, we departed Jean and Cathy’s house on the morning of Thursday 18 May, led by Mick. We were most grateful for the kindness, hospitality and patience Jean and Cathy afforded this couple of bikie interlopers.

Australia’s East Coast – The Great Ascent

Mick led us north out of Sydney across some great country using unsealed roads for preference. The photo right shows Louise crossing a small creek. Nice innocent-looking ford crossing but we were warned that the concrete under water was usually slippery with green algae – which it was – but neither of us took a bath! Without boring you with chapter and verse, our journey from Sydney up the East Coast of Australia to Cairns in the Far North of Queensland was punctuated by the following overnight stops as noted on the map below.

It’s a large island this one!  This East Coast ascent took 3,100 kilometres. The overnight stops were at: Matt and Sarah’s farm (Mick’s friends) near Tamworth; Evans Head; Brisbane (2 nights with Andrew Renaut); Glass Mountain; Hervey Bay, Bororen; Sarina; Hydeaway Bay; Rollingstone (see photo left – had to stop here!) Yungaburra and finally to Edmonton, a southern suburb of Cairns, where we are dog-sitting ‘Prince’

above from 1 to 17 June. We are currently enjoying a break from camping, exploring the Atherton Tablelands, Cairns and generally catching up with communications, including posting this first blog on my web site.

You may be relieved to read that subsequent posts will be far more brief.

 

 

 

Much to our disappointment, we made a rushed and premature exit from Vanuatu on 12 September.

VSA require volunteers to provide 6 and 12 monthly reports (see previous post: “The Halfway Point”). Mine were consistent in their recording of inadequate engagement and poor quality leadership at the Vanuatu Agriculture Research and Technical Centre (VARTC), the Partner Organisation for my assignment.

Between June and 22 August it became increasingly unlikely that I would be able to continue to work there in pursuit of the fundamental objectives of my VSA assignment. In June I met with the VSA in-country Programme Manager and discussed the potential to transfer my assignment to the Vanuatu Ministry of Trade’s Department of Industry. This was seen as a ‘Plan B Concept’ if progress was not possible at VARTC.

Eventually, on 22 August, I resigned once both Louise and I agreed there was no possibility for success. The key reasons were that:

• VARTC’s leadership (the CEO and Board) did not appreciate the relevance of Market Research, despite having sought a VSA volunteer with the title Market Adviser (Coconut R&D);
• Having put up a discussion document with recommendations, the Board responded with an autocratic and flawed directive that totally ignored the Market Research-led recommendation. No engagement nor discussion was permitted;
• VARTC’s CEO confirmed that a particularly inept senior employee would be the person I would work with to pursue the flawed objective. I had attempted to work with this character for a year and had a clear understanding of the limitation he would represent to positive progress;
• The funding for this flawed Applied Research work was due to arrive after the term of my assignment was due to expire – July 2017.

My deferred letter of resignation (per VSA protocols) contained the following last line:

“It is tragic that so many decent, capable and honest workers at VARTC have to suffer such dismal leadership. They deserve better.”

This disappointment was compounded by another we then experienced with VSA that cannot be discussed in a public forum such as this due to Clause 14 of my contract. See private attachment to the latest e-mail referring to this web site update.

As we progress with ‘life after Vanuatu’, we will increasingly look back beyond the trials and tribulations of the last few months to the bigger picture of our experience there. It was stimulating, colourful, enthralling, bemusing and rich in a highly human way – see next, more uplifting piece: “Vanuatu – A Special Place, A special slice of Life.”

The photo on the left was taken at Aore Island Resort on the Sunday farewell lunch with fellow volunteers. They had prepped Desmond, the musician just visible,  to knock out a particularly poignant song in our honour, to which our friends sang and we cried!

 

 

 

This retrospective of our time in Vanuatu is difficult to keep short so I’ll offer up a tumble of staccato screen shots from the memory banks:

Work:

Office shared with Marie, invariably cheerful, small desk, hard chair, big screen keyboard tapping. Vanuatu people, known as Ni-Vans, are reserved with newcomers, possibly more so when these are ‘white-fellas’. But over 14 months we gradually built relationships with many of the characters on the farm, typified by humour, warmth, trust and ready laughter. These fledgling bonds will wither with time but remain in the brain with affection. In the picture above the right is ‘my office’ – well Marie’s really, with her on the left, then Jules (Chief Mechanic) and Frank (Head of Maintenance).

Inspiration:

Interacting with and getting to know Ni-Vans in different communities was a good value check for self. Plenty of conundrums emerged as one’s understanding deepened. But the friendliness and open-hearted character of the locals with so much potential to step up a notch on the one hand, and one’s own 1st world education on the other, combined to make the will to contribute profound.

House:

Light, spacious, view east to the Pacific, tropical trees, warm breeze rising up the hill to waft through the rooms, motorbikes in the garage, Rufino’s goat Whisky tethered to the frangipani tree, the bullocks’ lustful baritones, the smiles and waves from passing farm workers. A happy place.

Lessons learned or underlined:

Leadership – the importance of standards, nurturing, direction, communication, engagement, sharing connections and know-how;

Society – sharing of resources, sharing of knowledge, sharing of security, sharing of belonging;

Religion – community coming together, headcount, hypocrisy;

Adventure – sharing of discoveries, sharing of wonderment; excursions beyond the comfort zone;

Natural life – nature on hand, weather encourages outdoor life, modest attire, lack of rules, lack of enforcers, freedom to be;

About self – happy conflict between pull of family and friend bonds back to home and lust for freedom to roam; valuation of contrasts, quiet time and rowdy time; persistence retained but with newly expanded patience for others, plus more tolerant of variety.

Club Life

Camaraderie amongst fellow volunteers, Kiwis and Aussies, all in the same boat, lack of money, lack of recourses, all trying to contribute, sharing tales of whacky impasses, simple living on a tropical roller coaster.

The over-riding memory of Vanuatu is warmth, freedom, friendliness, colour and the randomness of life.