Ord River Dam to Cooliman Camp (23 km)

Farewelling Maka and Bec, we pushed off from shore and, aided by the strong flow of the three valves of the Ord hydroelectric plant, headed quickly downstream away from the dam wall holding back all 10 million megalitres of Lake Argyle. Maka had pointed out that, if it broke, we would be in Kununurra in 25 minutes! We were planning a more leisurely three-day trip.

Tall red sandstone cliffs lined either side of the river as we got into a steady rhythm of paddling. It was a good morning to be out; a bit of cloud to keep the heat of the sun off, a breeze at our backs and the soft twitters and piping of the bird species that lived in the trees and reeds lining the river's banks. Egrets and cormorants sitting on branches overhanging the river watched us pass by.

Following a large curve through the gorge, we emerged into a more open reach, lined with gently sloping spinifex covered hills to the east and flatter terrain to the west. At times, our view consisted solely of the reeds growing out from the bank. The channel narrowed and the current flowed more quickly to sweep us past overhanging paperbarks and the odd freshwater crocodile, startled by our sudden appearance.

Again the river opened up as it curved around a broad bend with spectacular views of the rugged ridgelines ahead. Brightly coloured bee-eaters flew from tree to tree, a flash of metallic blue skimmed across the water in the shape of a kingfisher and a majestic osprey deigned to watch us pass by from its perch on a dead tree before soaring off into the distance. The river was showing us its magic.

Passing two sets of pandanus and tree-covered islets, first on the right, second on the left, we turned southwest and into the face of the breeze. However, the river current and a few extra paddles brought us around the next curve to again head northward - it is much better paddling with the breeze than against it.

Passing a low mudstone cliff, we began to hear chattering sounds from ahead and soon found ourselves alongside a colony of flying foxes, suspended from tree branches along the river bank, squabbling continuously amongst themselves as they passed the day away, contemplating their next nightly feed of fruit.

By the time we were ready to head on the cloud had burned off, and the sun shone hotly as we climbed back into the canoe to head downstream again - the atmosphere was languid with red and blue dragonflies scooting across the river surface as we rounded a slow tree-lined bend, disturbing a couple more freshwater crocodiles that were floating with only their eyes and snout visible above the surface.

Another long bend brought us northward and into the entry of the Carlton Gorge, a long passage where the cliff face of polished red sandstone plunged down into the river; tall enough to hide the early afternoon sun. We drifted slowly along the western edge of the river, appreciating the cool dark shade of the gorge wall and the scattering of blue and pink flowering nymphea waterlilies.

Gradually the cliff line faded away as Cooliman Creek flowed in from the east. Ahead lay the distinctive shape of Pelican Rock - the beacon for our campground for the night. The reflections of the orange-walled cliffs behind Pelican Rock in the still waters of the reach were amazing.

Pulling into the small floating jetty at Coolamine, we unloaded and headed up to the campsite, set in a shady grove of trees, with sleeping pads, BBQ, gas burners, sheltered table, spring-fed water supply and shower and toilet built like a throne above the river - very comfortable and welcome after a long day in the canoe. We celebrated our first 23 km on the Ord River with a cold beer from the esky.

Even though the climb was short, we were already sweating, so what better way to cool off than a quick paddle around the corner and into the still shady waters of Pelican Rock Creek. We tethered the canoe next to a small cascade and followed the creek for a few hundred metres further up the gully, passing a series of deep clear pools and gentle cascades beneath a narrow canopy of rainforest trees, until we reached our objective.

Just before a low rocky gorge lay a perfect little rock pool at the base of a small spring-fed waterfall, shaded by the overhanging branches of a tree and guarded by the webs of orb spiders. The sun was just creeping over the edge of the rock walls and the cool clear water of the pool was wonderfully refreshing - the perfect place for a skinnydip!

 

 

We lingered until the sun found our shady rest spot, signalling it was time to move on - back out into the river for a 3km paddle along a broad reach, weaving our way around the thick mats of water weed.

The canoe glided across the still reflections of cliff and river verge, and over a strange meadow of water weed. The long straps of weed, leaning gently with the current, were sometimes covered with filamentous green algae, giving the illusion of passing over a miniature subaquatic pine forest.

Soon we noticed a stump in mid-channel, marking the entrance to another creek flowing in from the west. We pulled in and tied up beneath a large overhanging paperbark on the left side of its entrance. From here, a slightly overgrown track led us higher up the creek for 20 minutes, past vine-covered trees, through thick grass, beneath a canopy of rain-forest trees and pandanus to a point where the two lines of sandstone cliffs merged on either side. Suddenly, we were at the end of the cleft, surrounded by sheer red 60m cliffs and greeted by the sight of a silver stream of water cascading 30m down into a large deep plunge pool below. We had reached Herbie's Hideaway and immediately thanked Herbie for finding it - an idyllic spot to pass an hour or more, swimming in the deep, crystal clear pool or having an invigorating hydrotherapy session beneath the tumbling water of the falls.

From Herbies, we again pushed onwards, wending our way between mats of floating weed for a further 3km to reach a sandy bend in the river. Sandy Creek trickles out here through a series of shallow channels lined with figs and paperbarks. Sand is a precious commodity on the Ord, so we stopped here for our lunch break and siesta beneath the dense shade of a fig.

The sun was getting hotter and, even after a siesta (or perhaps because of it) our energy felt drained. It was an effort to set off again on the Ord, paddling towards a blocking line of red cliffs. These forced the river to flow eastward, taking us into the face of a breeze.

Ord River reflections (from Stonewall campsite)

However, our incentive was already in sight, at the gap where the large Stonewall Creek flowed out into the Ord. It marked our second campsite for the trip, a drier habitat exposed to the north, but with large shady trees, sleeping pads and a large shaded octagonal eating/cooking area. Once again, the late afternoon reflections were superb and the beer was still cold in the esky.

After a couple of kilometres, the cliff-line faded away as the river took us in a north-easterly direction. Here we passed a section of flat densely vegetated shoreline, the drainage area of Rainforest Creek - we located the hidden entry to the creek, but not wanting to haul our canoe over the log that guarded it, pushed on. Soon, a new cliff-line of red, chunky sandstone appeared on the western bank. It was home to a colony of brushtailed rock wallabies, but the local residents did not deign to show themselves as we passed.

The day was beginning to get quite hot as we pushed on once again - striking a steady rhythm of paddling on the sluggish broad river waters - it was a long haul with little to see above the trees lining the river - a time for reflection and meditation to the steady rhythmic splash of the paddles. Slowly rounding another wide bend in the river, we passed through a mat of flowering water lilies, wide footed jacanas stepping from pad to pad in search of insects.

This took us across the river yet again to reach the entry of Emu Creek, a broad wetland fed by the Ord. We paddled up the still waters of the creek for a few hundred metres looking for a landing spot - a one metre wide bit of muddy bank beneath an arch of spiny pandanus. With a bit of slipping and getting feet stuck in the mud, we moored and followed a short track up to a large rock overhang on the south-eastern end of Elephant Rock.

Here, amongst a city of delicately constructed wasps' nests, were some ancient aboriginal art works painted on the rock wall. It was a detour well worth making.

The magnificent Brahminy kite high in a dead tree opposite watched us slowly paddle out of the creek and back into the river. The fickle breeze sometimes pushed us along, sometimes blew into our face and other times left us altogether to swelter in the hot sun as we headed steadily northward toward the entry of Lily Creek Lagoon.

Any breeze is better than none to cool you down on the river. This section became the part where your sole purpose remains to complete the mission.