The little, tin boat I’m in is starting to feel even smaller as I spot another giant Tuna jumping through the water, chasing a school of bait fish. Hundreds of birds hover above taking turns to dive head first into the turquoise waters hoping to surface with a meal in their beak just as a dozen sea eagles swoop in and fly off with a tasty silver fish in their claws. The top of the waters bubble as the bait fish scramble to get away, but my eyes cannot see the larger fish below herding them towards the shallower waters.
Nearby, a large white crane stands stoically on a flooded sandbank, passively watching the scene around him. Dugongs, dolphins and sea turtles glide through the waters beneath, unseen today, but I know they’re there.
One more creature to spot and then I’ve finally ticked off ‘The Big Five’ out of the wildlife found in this hot and humid, sunkissed land.
Scanning the edge of the water as we potter past slowly in the little, tin boat, I’m hoping to see the fifth or at least the flick of its giant tail as the beast scatters back into the jungle-like foliage.
It’s a pretty remote place here, I’ll give you that, the majority of visitors fly here and even the local people prefer a plane over enduring the very long and very bumpy 10 hour drive down a corrugated bush track to get to the nearest town. For six months of the year, the whole community and surrounding tribal lands are cut off from civilisation by the rising banks of the rivers that flow through the area. Fresh supplies to the community have to be shipped in weekly and heaven forbid if the seas are too rough for the barge to dock in what are normally some of the brightest aqua waters you’ve ever seen! Continue reading