The power of nature can be awesome like we all know. To experience the wet season in the Kimberley is a demonstration of this power. The sheer volume of water which dumps on that part of the world in such a short time is quite incredible. This can be seen most of all with the Fitzroy River which winds its snaky, majestic way through the heart of the Kimberley. During the year it is a very modest stretch of water but in the wet season it becomes a raging torrent with the second largest flow in the world behind the Amazon. Water metres at Willare Bridge, located about 30 kilometres from the mouth have recorded 31 000 cubic metres per second.
Over the last ten years cotton farmers have endeavoured to harness this natural resource which has outraged most Kimberley residents, including conservations and traditional Aboriginal custodians. To contemplate damming the Fitzroy River at Diamond Gorge is an outrage which would destroy one of the last frontiers. Can’t we learn a lesson from what unbridled development has done to many of our Australian river systems already. I say, let the river run free like it always has. Who wants more destruction of habitat and pollution? Australia is waking up to the tourist potential of the Kimberley so why can’t we promote peaceful activities such as white river rafting, packhorse expeditions and bird watching in this fragile, ancient environment. What people want now is rejuvenation of spirit which is not found in cotton. Kimberley people say to them - “No Dam Way.” The threat to Diamond Gorge has currently passed due no doubt to a concerted effort by such groups as ‘Environs Kimberley’ but now the cotton farmers have turned their focus to tapping into the Great Artesian Basin 100 kilometres south of Broome. Their attempts to bulldoze their ideas and the pindan bush are blatant and harmful, like a scrub fire which burns on multiple fronts.
Engineers have tried before to harness the Fitzroy with sorry consequences. The Great Northern Highway was raised above the height of any previous known flood level in a 10 kilometre long bank which was dubbed ‘The China Wall’ by the local people. It was a Bicentennial project in the 80’s which cost many millions of dollars. Unfortunately only one bridge was constructed and the very next year the water flooded 14 kilometres back from the Willare Bridge on the Western side and eventually spilled over the top of the new highway taking the layer of bitumen on its mighty way. Someone then had the bright idea of punching holes in the wall which subsequently released such a torrent of water that the Cockatoo Bridge was scoured on both sides leaving it high and dry like a giant monument to madness. We witnessed this scene for ourselves and were also more than surprised to see a road train towing three containers stranded in the flood with the river washing over the windscreen of the truck cabin.
On one occasion we experienced a massive downpour in Broome. We knew that this was no ordinary storm when lightening flashed across our living room. Later, we became aware of some people who had lost all their home entertainment equipment which had them searching for their insurance policies. We awoke the next morning to an inland lake which was just an inch below our door. I soon noticed that the rain gauge had overflowed so I said to Kate. “Jeez, I reckon we got a fair wack of rain last night.” We were informed later on that morning that we had deluge with a new record of 26 inches in three hours. . Not bad when you consider that this is Melbourne’s rainfall for the entire year. It was also an incredible sight to see whole sections of the sand dunes washed away at the newly developed old meatworks estate. Blocks of land which had sold for record prices were completely washed away. The Great Northern Highway was cut off at Roebuck Plains not far out of Broome and essential supplies were ferried across by speed boats which made an incongruous sight on a cattle plain.
Dry, sandy river beds look very inviting for an overnight camp but they can be extremely hazardous. We took the Aboriginal boarders out for a camping trip during the wet season on one particular year and we decided to spend the night at Deep Creek which is located about 80 kilometres East from Broome on the way to Derby. Light rain fell during the afternoon but as night approached everybody reached for their sleeping bags and soon we were all fast asleep. Unbeknown to us, heavy rain had fallen further north and by midnight a raging torrent was descending upon us. In no time at all one of the vehicles became a target for the rising creek and water was lapping around the sleeping bags. Anyone who has ever tried to wake an Aboriginal teenager in the dead of night, will realise it is not an easy task. The desperate owner of the land cruiser was not impressed when one of our party reached for his camera. “Forget about the F….. photos and help me get my vehicle out” was his desperate and exasperated comment. I guess the students were used to such language but not from someone of religious persuasion so it even caused them to widen their eyes more than usual. Fortunately, we had the manpower to haul the vehicle out and then we were able to retreat to higher, safer ground.
Not so lucky were two teachers from our school who decided to take on the Tanamai Track at the beginning of the wet. They were out on the Sturt Creek close to Billiluna and night had overtaken them. It was raining heavily and they decided to press on across a series of flood ways. The normal procedure in this case is to leave your vehicle and test the height of the waterway before attempting to drive over to the other side. All too soon they had decided so much rain had fallen that the crossings were becoming hazardous. They turned their vehicle around and tried to recover their tracks only to be met with a crossing that had risen considerably since they had previously negotiated it earlier in the night. Now caught between flood ways they determined that they would attempt the passage. But their worst nightmare came starkly before them when their vehicle was swept away and they had to make a frantic scramble through the car door windows. They clung to small trees for the rest of a long, cold night but of course the vehicle was a write-off. All they had left were the clothes they stood up in and they arrived back in Broome a day later. “How come you’re back already” we asked. It was only weeks later that they were able to tell us about how close they had come to death.
Some newcomers to Broome sometimes say, “I’d love to experience a cyclone.” Well, anyone who had experienced the power of cyclonic wind and rain would think this to be utter foolishness. In recent times Cyclone Lindsay came within 16 kilometres of Broome and was enough to send shudders through even the toughest people when houses shook with the roaring gales. Town house windows were blasted with sand swept four kilometres away from Cable Beach. And it was an eerie feeling to wake to utter silence the next morning and see that every leaf had been blown from the trees. It was like a bush fire had denuded the landscape. Steel power poles were pushed to 45 degree angles and even railway sleepers were torn from their bolts on the jetty and tossed into the ocean. We travelled down the highway and could clearly see where the eye of the cyclone had passed on a four kilometre path of destruction which had levelled most large trees and swept the vegetation flat like a carpet. Broome has been lucky in recent years but the odds are that it will take a hit again like it has in the past.
The power of nature can also be seen in the tidal movement in Broome which is one of the largest in the world. In earlier years king tides would flow under the seats of the outdoor Sun Picture theatre causing patrons to lift their legs until the tide eventually retreated. Nowadays, levy banks have been constructed so the familiar sight of the ocean claiming Chinatown streets on a regular basis has become a phenomenon of the past. Six hours later you would swear that someone had pulled the plug on Roebuck Bay which empties so much that you can take a five kilometre walk out across the mudflats. As you can imagine, this always has the potential to catch the unwary and all too often these are the locals. Four wheel drives are regularly left on a beach seemingly well out of harms way only to be claimed by the incoming tide. On one occasion the owner of the Hovercraft business lost his vehicle to the tide and decided to retrieve it by attaching 44 gallon drums around its perimeter. Initially, the idea worked well when the vehicle rose like a cork on the next incoming tide. He then towed it with his boat and it quickly caused a large number of people to gather on the jetty to watch the spectacle. All went well until the towing rope went on one side of the jetty pylon and the vehicle went the other side. This immediately caused the boat to start sinking in the strong tide so the owner was forced to cut the rope and his vehicle was left to the elements.
The tides are also treacherous for careless swimmers. On one particular high tide I watched helplessly at the jetty as a young lady was swept away by a nine meter tide. Within ten minutes she was floating away at a rapid rate. Fortunately, she had the good sense to go with the current and it was quite some time before a boat could be found to attempt a rescue. Bamba Albert of ‘Bran Nue Dae’ fame stood at the front of the small speed boat holding a rope to steady himself in riding out the chopping waves. By the time they reached the girl she had been swept away over four kilometres and was completely exhausted and shell-shocked by her ordeal. She was unbelievably lucky to survive.
So the Kimberley is a remote area of extremes. Huge rainfall, king tides, cyclones, high humidity and roasting temperatures but it also has a fascination which causes people to stay a week and then half a lifetime