Arnhem Land Bound: Daliwuy Bay

Getting out of the township of Nulunbuy turned out to be a great move. The place we found to camp was a free camping area called Daliwuy (free except the need for the aboriginal permit) with a beach launch boat ramp. There were virtually no facilities there (no water, showers, electricity, but there was a pretty scungy drop toilet) but all that paled into insignificance because there were hardly any people there. The half a dozen or so folks that were there were not those useless grey nomad types who sit on their arses and stare at the trees all day – they were boaties like us. They were happy to have a chat, share some secrets about fishing spots and techniques and generally all kept an eye out for each other. It was also good not to be camping on a postage stamp with some grey nomad tosser in a 10 metre caravan running air-con all night right next to us!

The camping at Daiwuy is ‘best in best dressed’ so Daph and Bruce headed out there first while Daz and I packed the boat and camper at a more leisurely pace in case it turned out that the oldies arrived at Daliwuy to find it full and had to turn around and come back. But as it turned out luck was on our side and we got the all clear from the oldies via sat phone and got moving. It turned out that the day was a hot, sweaty, dusty, frantic day of activity packing up camp and boat, driving to Daliwuy and resetting camp again. Thankfully Bruce got the water heater running through the land cruiser and we all were able to have a shower albeit using recycled shower water for the whole family. The running joke of the rest of the stay at Daliwuy was that that whenever someone did something good they would (try to) claim the first shower – whoever took out the prize for dickhead of the day was threatened with the last!

There were still a few challenges we had to overcome at Daliwuy. Firstly, we needed to see if we could launch and retrieve the boat at various tide levels without getting either the boat or the vehicle stuck. Secondly we had to deal with the problem that the welder at Nhulunbuy wanted our trailer for a couple of days to fix up the stone guards – which meant we’d need to moor the boat overnight for a few nights. Thirdly we had to catch some fish!

So the next day we decided to launch the boat and Daz took the trailed back to the welder while the rest of us went fishing. It was blowing a gale (the weather report had issues a strong wind warning) but we didn’t let that stop us. There is a sandbar that stretches across the mouth of the Daliwuy river mouth and there was a bit of a surf rolling in on it. The locals told us that it should still be deep enough to cross at low tide so we headed out and I earned my bar crossing stripes that day. I admit I was a little scared going out and in across that bar for the first time but it’s all good experience and I had a good instructor at my side in Bruce. As far as the fishing went we did no good at all. We crossed the bay to Cape Arnhem and trolled around for a bit with no hits at all. Eventually, I called it quits because I was nervous about the tide turning and the bar crossing on the way in getting even more feral so we headed home empty handed.

That Afternoon we set up an anchor off the bow and a rope from the stern to shore to moor the boat overnight, accepting that for the first time the big girl was going to be high and dry at low tide. We would have liked to set another anchor out the side but the sand was so hard packed that the plough anchors wouldn’t dig in without help from a human with a shovel (and I couldn’t find a volunteer to swim down and set one!), so we just left it. However as luck would have it the tide went out a lot further and we were able to walk out onto the flats and set a side anchor with a shovel to stop the boat washing up too high on the beach at the overnight high tide.

Next morning we woke to find the boat sitting happily where we left her (still high and dry) but as the tide came in she floated and we waded out with heads on swivels (for crocs) and after a bit of buggerising around we got her off the sandbank. Unfortunately that “buggerising around” included the boys removing that side anchor - this would prove to be a mighty pain in the butt later. As it turned out the weather had calmed down a bit and the sandbar wasn’t so bad, and we finally started having some success with the fishing with a nice haul of Trickies and a few Tusk Fish by bottom fishing as we drifted from Cape Arhnem across the bay. But boy did we lose some tackle from getting snagged!

That afternoon upon our return there was a MASSIVE croc (6m) basking as the mouth of the river, and the tide was still fairly high. With that croc hanging around there was no way anyone was volunteering to reset the side anchor, so we decided to live without out it and deal with whatever problems this might cause the next morning.

Maybe that was a mistake.

The next morning the lack of side anchor combined with a higher than usual high tide overnight had allowed the boat to float right up the beach before the tide went out again. Early in the morning I took one look at the boat high up on the bank, then checked the best excuse for a tide chart that we had to see that the next high tide was at about midday and wouldn’t be as high as last nights’ (by about 30 cm) and went back to bed gnawing on my fingernails trying to work out how we would get it off. “Back to bed” lasted 10 minutes until my worries (along with Darren stating “she’ll be right” and Dad sitting outside our window (having come to the same conclusion as me – that she wouldn’t be right mate) offering all sorts of options – some good and some alarming) drove me out of bed to face the problems of the day.

There were plenty of options thrown about (and a few animated moments!) but soon we had a plan A. It relied on the current very low tide (which was convenient) as it enabled us to walk right out onto the sand flats past the boat, dig in two large plough anchors as deep as we could, link them together with a pulley to evenly spread the load between them (Load Balancing it in IT terms!), then link a rope from the stern of the boat to the anchors with a loop in it an another pulley to halve the load and reverse the direction of the pull required so we could hook it to the winch on front of the Dmax back up on the beach. The plan was as the tide comes in and started to float the boat we’d slowly take up the pressure on the winch and drag the stern of the boat out towards the two buried plough anchors until we had enough water to reverse the boat out under its own power. My year 9 physics teacher would be impressed!

Well the tide came in and with a little additional direct elbow grease we had the boat afloat by 10 am! Hooray! Phew! The next job was Daz, Daph and the kids had to get into town ASAP and pick up some supplies as well as our mended trailer and get it back to camp while the tide was still high enough to use the beach ramp. So Dad and I went fishing for a few hours and had a really good session despite the 4m swell, bringing home some more Trickies and yours truly bagging our first Red Emperor for the trip. We returned expecting to find Daz waiting with the Trailer but instead were greeted with the old question:

“Do you want the good news or the bad news?”

It’s at that moment when you know that an already trying day is going to get worse. “The trailer isn’t ready yet. I just came back to drop off the ice and now I’m going back for it”. Ok so that’s another 2 hour wait – and a race against the dropping tide. Lucky there was food and booze and fish to clean on board. So Dad and I bobbed around for another Three and a half hours and between cursing that welder we were resigning ourselves to having to sleep aboard the boat when Daz comes roaring around the corner in a cloud of dust.

Without stopping he backed the trailer straight out onto the flats and waited for me to drive the boat on. OooooK. Not what I was expecting. IF I managed to get the boat onto the trailer in the shallow water he was probably going to get bogged driving it out. Oh well, one problem at a time. So I drove the boat onto the trailer. It was shallow but all it required was getting the outboard tilt just right and moving some sand with the prop. But all good – and surprisingly easier than expected.

Then to our infinite happiness Daz and that lovely little Dmax pulled us out without even raising a sweat! Bloody hell I’ve never been so happy to have a boat on a trailer. That night (not having to worry about where the stupid tide was taking our boat) was the first decent sleep I got in 3 nights. Happiness is a boat on a trailer and knowing that you can launch and retrieve it with relative ease. Knowing this made the rest of the stay a pleasure (mostly – except for the gastro in the following days!)

The next day fishing we had a hugely successful day with a swag of really solid Trickies and respectable Red Emperors, Brucey nailing another Coral Trout and Daph landing a horse of a GT.

The following day was hopeless for fishing and we all came home a bit depressed. Bruce was so upset that he got the shits…and then the vomits. It didn’t stop him doing a quick supply run into town the next morning and then a fishing run out onto the bay. It was another rough day and mediocre fishing so Bruce flaked out in the cabin and we trolled around the leeward side of Cape Arnhem before calling it quits with only five fish to clean that arvo.

The next day was our last fishing day – and boy what a blinder it was. We bagged 16 big fat Trickeys and 6 Red Emperors with the last one being the biggest of the trip! A huge 3.5kg/ 56 cm stonker which elevated Matilda to the President of the Red Emperor Club (over Daz) in a last minute Coup d’état.

With that as the final word we had to turn our heads for home as say a sad fare ye well to the Arafura sea for the last time. The next day was a pack up day (I spent the day sweating by butt off in the boat doing by best to clean the fish smell off everything so we would open the boat and vomit when we get home).

That night it was my turn to get the shits. And the vomit started next morning as we rolled up the camper in readiness for the 500km bone shaking haul back to Mainoru. Well I made it to 100km mark before asking mum to take over the driving (sometimes a girl just needs her mummy!) while I tried to fight off the spews and poos and aches and pains. I think mum did a great job because the car and trailer made the next 270 km undamaged while I slept as best as possible with my teeth being shaken from my head. Later I felt a bit better and did the last 140km to Mainoru but I was shivering and shaking by the time we arrived so I had a shower and went to bed by 6:30 while the rest of the mob partied on without me.

Next morning I was nearly back to normal and it was a short 250km hop to get us here to Mataranka where we’ve had a day of rest to do some washing, divvy up some fish, check our gear, and take the kids for a swim to Bitter Springs. On the subject of gear checking Bruce discovered that his tow hitch had bent – on closer inspection it had actually cracked, so this morning he spent a few hours grinding off the damaged bit and re-fitting it. It pays to bring a grinder and drill in your recover kit people! That could have ended in disaster.

Last night at the Mataranka pub we were even treated to watch the world record holder for whip cracking put on a really good show! Can’t complain about unexpected entertainment! Tonight is our last night here and we’re heading to the Pub for dinner to wish Daz and Bruce an early Happy Birthday. Happy Birthday Boys! Love you both. Enjoy it now because from tomorrow it’s 700Km a day to home, with nothing but cleanup and work to look forwards to – and some wonderful memories to treasure.