DISCOVERING Carnarvon National Park, a beautiful piece of wilderness and an emerald oasis in semi-arid Central Queensland, was one of the highlights of our Australian holiday. It also made me determined to find out more about spending time in Australia’s national parks. With our 19 beautifully appointed, tourist-friendly national parks – all offering reasonably priced camping and accommodation and excellent tourist facilities – plus our countless, well-equipped provincial and private game reserves, we South Africans have such amazingly easy access to diverse and wonderful wilderness. In Australia, we were finding it a bit difficult to access unspoiled natural places where we could spend extended visits. It was for this reason that we set off with high hopes to find Carnarvon, apparently one of Queenland’s tourist hotspots.
From a wildlife point of view our day couldn’t have started better. En route to the park we found a flock of about 30 brolga cranes in a field. I adore cranes, those vocal, dancing birds that are considered sacred in many parts of the world. In South Africa we are lucky to have three of the world’s 15 species and I am always thrilled to see any of them. To add another crane species to my global birding list was a great achievement and seeing these gorgeous creatures was just so special. We’d heard that there were camping facilities near to the park but no camping within its boundaries so we were surprised to find a fairly extensive and quite crowded camping area near the information centre when we reached Carnarvon Gorge.
It was an idyllic setting for camping, a sheltered, grassy little spot beneath some lovely shady trees. The information centre was unmanned and we couldn’t find any staff members around to ask about camping. Eventually we found an information board with a notice explaining that the camping area was only open during the school holidays and camping sites needed to be pre-booked. There was a telephone number, though, and although there was no cellphone reception there was a public pay phone. The helpful official said there was a single campsite available that night. As we had registered on their website prior to entering the Great Sandy National Park and were on their data base, we were able to book the site and pay for it with our credit card, all over the phone. There is something to be said for modern technology – even in the bush.
The national park and its spectacular sandstone gorge proved to be one of the loveliest natural beauty spots we have found in Australia and although it is a bit of a westward trek from the coast to get there, it is well worth the effort. Soon after setting up camp – and spending a little time admiring the resident roos and wallabies and the strange and interesting avian camp followers – we set off for a walk along the main walking trail, one of many hiking routes in the national park. The well-maintained, at times undulating pathway wove its way backwards and forwards over the boulder-strewn Carnarvon Creek at the heart of the lush, green, well-treed gorge, its woodlands boasting some really massive old trees. At times we found ourselves strolling through groves of magnificent Carnarvon fan palms (Livistona nitida) or past stands of Macrozamia moorei cycads or king ferns (Angiopteris evecta).
The main trail eventually leads to Big Bend, nearly 10km from the start and, by all accounts a fairly arduous hike to get there. It is also part of the Carnarvon Great Walk, a six- to seven-day 87km circuit walk out of the gorge and onto the plateaux of the Great Dividing Range. We definitely did not have time to do that intriguing adventure – or even to do the 20km there-and-back walk to Big Bend. However, the main route had numerous side shoots and we did a wonderful walk to the amazing moss garden. It was an incredible sight, a sandstone wall carpeted in ferns and moss, kept moist by the constant dripping of water filtered through the rocks. The velvety green wall overlooked a crystal pool, into which tumbled a beautiful little waterfall. The cool, moist spot encouraged us to linger after the long hot walk to get there. On the way home we detoured back to camp via a delightful little nature trail. It had taken us a good couple of hours so we were pleased to reach our little campsite late in the afternoon.
That evening, there was an amazing interlude that added a magical spark to the special nature of our Carnarvon experience. Darkness had fallen and we were relaxing after supper when a young man in a site near us began playing his guitar quietly, producing the gentlest of melodies. Soon he was joined by a flautist and, for about half an hour, the duo played the most divine music. Every time a number came to an end, there would be a burst of applause from all around the camping area and calls for more. Then the impromptu concert came to an end and silence descended on the campsite. In the morning, I chatted to a woman from the concert campsite the next morning. She told us that the flutist was her partner, a professional musician and a member of a philharmonic orchestra. The guitarist was his extremely gifted 14-year-old son. What a treat their music was.
We would love to have stayed longer but we made the absolute most of our Carnarvon sojourn. Early next morning Bill went for a run and I enjoyed a little walk along the nature trail that criss crossed a beautiful little stream. I had the walk almost to myself but eventually came across a young man staring intently at the stream. I walked passed him then, round the next corner, found two women doing exactly the same thing. My curiosity got the better of me and I just had to ask them what they were doing. It turned out they were hunting for platypus. That’s how you do it. Apparently a platypus is a very shy creature so the best way to find one is to sit very quietly, without moving next to a stream where these little creatures were likely to occur. Apparently, early morning is a good time for a platypus hunt.
I completed the nature trail then did a lovely little walk alongside the same stream to a fig tree-shades natural rock pool. I walked very quietly hoping to surprise a basking platypus but, sadly, didn’t see one. However, the lovely birds I spotted along the way more than made up for its absence. When I got back to camp, Bill was already there and we had a leisurely breakfast before packing up our tent. On our way out of the national park we stopped to do a final short walk, through groves of fan palms to Baloon Cave. Situated at a natural entry point into the gorge, it has been used by Aboriginal people for thousands of years, the rocky overhand featuring fine examples of stencilled Aboriginal rock art. Somehow, the ancient artworks underlined the sacredness of Carnarvon Gorge, a very special, very beautiful place.
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