Fitzroy Crossing

Sometimes you witness  a beautiful event of nature at play, but it happens so quickly you are left only with memory and imagination. It was a bright and warm morning – our first at Fitzroy Crossing where we are enjoying the generous hospitality of Warren and Sheena, pastors of the AAOM church in this community. I was sipping my first coffee of the day with John Mann, with finches and butterflies flitting and darting among the branches of a nearby shrub. Suddenly one of the more adventurous finches, apparently mistaking John’s leg for a sturdier branch, alighted on his knee. It was only momentary, but the look of astonishment, and maybe horror on his face was hilarious. John was also startled, but the bird quickly darted away, after realising his mistake. (It might have been a female, but it happened too quickly to investigate!)

From Halls Creek, the highway stretches on with the relentless low scrub stretching out on both sides to a flat horizon. Apart from the spinifex and tussock grasses, there is a lot of pindan wattle in full flower. Yet as we have seen before, the apparently featureless plains reveal new beauties. We stopped at one on the Mary River, seemingly barren where we crossed on the highway, but a kilometre down a dusty track there is a wide waterhole with abundant trees and shade. The area is used by travellers as a serene and peaceful place to rest for a day or so, or as in our case, pause for morning tea. Some cattle also seem to enjoy the shade and water and a chance to chat to the tourists.

John had promised us that further along there is a lookout. We were a bit dubious, as for as far as one could see, there was nothing like a hill or rise that would afford it the status of a “lookout.” I was reminded of the time in my childhood when our town was graced with royal presence around 1959, and the local authorities erected a lookout on a nearby hill to survey the countryside. Now Corbie Hill rises about two metres from the surrounding land. As a proud republican I don’t really care what royalty thinks, but I reckon she was quietly amused that the structure erected for her was probably higher than the hill itself.

Anyway, as promised by John, there was indeed a lookout – Ngumban Cliffs – atop something that could, by Corbie standards, be called a mountain. There was a rest area there, but not graced by waterhole or trees, so we used the shade of our vehicles to pause for lunch and a chat.

We have four nights in Fitzroy Crossing, staying in the shady lawns of the AAOM (Australian Aboriginal Outreach Ministries) church. The AAOM is affiliated with the AOG Pentecostal church and focusses its work among Aboriginal communities. The pastor, Warren, is one of those multi-gifted people who can put his hand to practical tasks such as fixing cars, building caravans and houses, plumbing. He is also an excellent tour guide, and I think he has been relishing the opportunity to see John and Anne and their friends and show them some of the hidden secrets of the area.

On Friday we took a drive out in Warren’s hardy and well-worn Landcruiser Troopy. Warren is less inhibited than we are by dirt roads and corrugations and we belted along a road at 95 that would have seen us cautiously tip-toeing along at 25 kmph. Our destination was the ruins of a 19th Century telegraph station that also served as a police station. What stands now is some remnants of a wall and scattered rocks, an occasional hand-made nail and fragments of porcelain. It is a part of our shameful history that the police would round up local Aboriginals and force them into a form of indentured slavery and ship them to other parts of Australia. The site for this relic is well off the beaten track on what is quite literally “on a track never crossed ‘cept by folks that are lost” (and local Aboriginal community.) Further down the road is Fossil Downs, a 4,000 square kilometre cattle property, owned currently by Gina Cold-Heart. Apparently she also owns mining rights, and the locals are a bit nervous.

Thinking of the crumbled ruins took me back a few days at Halls Creek where we took a short drive out to what tourists call China Wall, and the Aboriginals call Burraluba. It is an astonishing white quartz “wall” that looks like it has been constructed with carefully placed, and perfectly shaped quartz stones. We noted that whereas the stone-walled Fitzroy Crossing police station had not lasted a hundred years, the naturally formed wall has stood for millions.

Saturday 12th

We are still enjoying our stay at Fitzroy Crossing. Warren is a perennially jovial host, and was very keen to continue his role as tour guide. His extensive local knowledge and contacts are very helpful, and we were privileged to take a short trip to one of the Aboriginal communities a few kilometres out of town. With Covid restrictions we were not allowed to get out of the Troopy, but we were able to deliver a package to a very happy young man. From there we took a very rugged path along the banks of the Fitzroy to a point where Two Mile Creek joins the Fitzroy. It is not clear that “two mile” refers to its length, or its width during the wet season.

At this point the river dips a couple of feet and there is the suggestion of rapids. But in the main, the river is slow and wide at this time of year. During wet season rains it becomes a vast water course, and apparently at its peak, carries more water than any other Australian river. It was very pleasant wading in the river. Nearby we saw the remains of one vehicle that did not make it back, stuck firmly in the sand with a tree stump as its last and now permanent passenger.

We also popped down to the original Fitzroy Crossing, a low-level concrete bridge that clearly did not facilitate much in the way of  a crossing during the wet. The original town was built on the banks at this point and there are still some remaining cottages and shells of houses. The authorities made the sensible decision to move the township a distance away from a more sensible bridge, though in a big wet, it will still be impassable.

Tomorrow, Sunday, will see us at our hosts’ church, though as well, we will attempt a Zoom participation in our home church at Tuggeranong – technology permitting. After that we are going upstream to Danngu Gorge – I will mention that in next week’s blog. And on Monday we head for Derby.

Thanks for reading thus far. I hope you are enjoying our travels.