DAY 3: THE TIP

When Peter the driver first mentioned going to the tip, we thought he was referring to the rubbish dump, but no, this is what the locals call Cape York.  At breakfast Chris and I realised we'd met Peter previously- he drove our tour bus on Fraser Island some years ago. Nice bloke, good driver, and knowledgeable, so it was good to see him again.


We set off in the dark as it would take us about an hour to reach The Tip.  Once there, we had quite a climb to reach the northernmost point, but the rocks, though wet, were not slippery and everyone made it except John and Marg, who stopped at the highest point.  The trail then led down over more rocks until we reached a sign announcing we'd reached the tip, where the Pacific Ocean (hereabouts called the Coral Sea) and Torres Strait merged with an awesome current. The wind was fierce but the clouds were dispersing by now. The temperature was such that we sought shade wherever possible.

              Tour group at The Tip of Australia
Back at the beach where the bus was parked, we searched for shells, but the only unbroken ones I could find were occupied.  We felt sorry for these hermit crabs and put them together so they wouldn't be lonely.

We could now acknowledge Peter's wisdom in the early start, because although ours was the only vehicle in the area to begin with, a steady stream passed us on the way out- probably more than 30 vehicles heading for a small carpark.


The beaches up here were all clean and sandy, but of course you can't swim because of crocodiles and stingers.  The rainforests are thick and green, except next to the road where red dust covers them.  The roads are super-bumpy, with creek crossings and erosion- and this is early in the season.  Our bus has special suspension and is really quite comfortable but some sections of the road are shake, rattle and almost but not quite roll. 

Typical Top End road- but much redder than it appears here.


We visited Somerset, an historic former cattle station, and Somerset Beach,  a rather rugged camping area, but with quite a few residents, where we saw a memorial to Edmund Kennedy, the first white man to almost reach Cape York.  Fishing is the only pastime here- resident crocs, so no swimming. (We didn't see any but were assured they were there.)


Peter took us on a "diversion" to a perched lake- these are formed in depressions which over time have acquired a dense covering of leaf matter which prevents rainwater from soaking into the sand.  There are several examples of these lakes on Fraser Island as well.  They tend to be a little acidic so are not usually populated by fish, but they are quite attractive.

                   Perched lake near Top End
While walking around the lake, we saw dingo and pig tracks, and walked under a big spider's web.  Big orb-weaving spider, big web.

On the way back to Punsand Bay we stopped at the Croc Tent, a quirky but touristy gift stall which is packed up each year for the wet season (as are all the resorts- most of them get flooded).


Back at Punsand Bay we enjoyed another hearty meal and were pleased to hear that tomorrow's breakfast would be at the much more pleasant hour of 7 am.