Weekend Away Days Two and Three

On Saturday morning we washed and showered, broke camp, had a coffee and were on the road for eight o’clock, heading for Cooktown.

A short way into the journey we stopped at Black Mountain, a mass of granite boulders covered in black algae, dubbed the ‘Bermuda Triangle’ of Queensland, with stories dating from the late 1800s to 1930s of early explorers, horses and whole mobs of cattle disappearing into the labyrinth of rocks, never to be seen again. It’s also home to three endemic species – a skink, gecko and bright yellow frog - found nowhere else in the world.

Our next stop was Archer Point to see the view from the lighthouse. It sits on aboriginal land and has two free camping areas, although they have no facilities and are exposed to the wind. There was another area next to the beach, but  misuse has resulted in damage to the coastal ecosystem, and it is temporarily closed while rehabilitation is undertaken.

From there we moved on until we reached Cooktown and headed first to the top of Grassy Hill, where James Cook and Joseph Banks stood in 1770 and surveyed the area in which they were stranded. They were there for forty-eight days while they repaired the ship, during which time they met and interacted with the natives, saw crocodiles and hunted and ate kangaroo and turtles. We also spoke to the locals, but settled for a bacon and egg wrap.

Cooktown was founded over a hundred years later, in 1874, during the Palmer River Gold Rush, with the town named after Cook and the Endeavour River after his ship. There are six Cook monuments in the town, including a Cairn where the ship was beached for repairs. We’d planned to visit the Cooktown Museum, apparently one of Queensland’s best museums and a must-do attraction, but it’s only open Wednesday to Saturday in the low season so we walked along the waterfront in the sun instead.

From Cooktown we headed for Laura where we were to camp that night, along the Battle Camp Road. The name comes from the 1870's, when a group of people heading for the Palmer River goldfields were attacked by a large group of aborigines. It’s an unsealed road about seventy-four kilometres long, mostly red dirt which coats the car. And everything else. It does however make it easy to see anything coming towards you due to the accompanying dust cloud. Not that there was much traffic. Most of the road is graded, although the short corrugated sections will make your false teeth rattle. Before starting along the road Conor lowered the tyre pressure by ten psi, and the journey was a mix of two and four wheel drive.

Before reaching our destination we stopped at the old Laura Homestead, which is a heritage-listed homestead in Rinyirru National Park, Lakefield. Fergus O'Beirne, a young Irish immigrant bought the Laura Station lease (12,800ha) in 1879 for just over £8. By 1894 he had over 8000 head of cattle—the success due largely to the contribution of the Aboriginal workers. The homestead was built from 1902 onwards. Unoccupied now, the only resident we saw was a wallaby, which didn’t hang around.

Moving on we reached Laura, which in the 2021 census had a population of 133 people. The main street consists of a petrol station, general store and a pub, and on the other side of the road Laura Town Hall and some information about the town. It was founded as a staging camp on the road from Cooktown to the Palmer River goldfields, taking its name from the nearby river.

Men sat at two tables in front of the pub, watching as we pulled up, made for an unsettling vibe. However as we approached they proved to be very welcoming and we were soon booked in to the camp site at the back. We got set up there and then returned to the pub for a beer and a look at the menu.

Kevin “Stumpy” Darmody ran the Peninsula Hotel in Laura, 300 kilometres north-west of Cairns, for about 20 years until he was killed by a crocodile in April, 2023. One of his closest friends, Stuart Wiggins, moved 3000 kilometres from Canberra and reopened the pub a year later. Stuart told us he’s originally from Stockport – so I went to the other side of the world, to a town in the middle of nowhere and with the only pub for miles, and met someone who originally lived within ten miles of where I do now! Stuart’s spent many years in hospitality – and it shows. Friendly, clean, great food and beer – definitely one to go back to.

We sat out the front in the late afternoon, watching king parrots, lorikeets, kookaburras and galahs flying around and perching in the trees, roofs and power lines around us. Then we started to get more galahs. And more. Eventually they were everywhere, like a scene from Hitchcock’s ‘The Birds’. Then the owner of the general store came out and crossed the road, scattering seed, and it all made sense. As soon as they’d eaten they were off again. Two lorikeets sat in a tree just in front of us and ate a mango instead.

Once we’d eaten Linda, who helps run the pub, came over to us with two wallaby joeys which she’d mentioned to Kerry and Conor earlier. She had three in total, but one wasn’t well. She’s qualified and registered to take orphaned joeys and nurse and rear them until they reach a certain weight, when they go to a sanctuary where they learn to be wallabies (or kangaroos) before being released into the wild.

This is completely voluntary and she bears all the costs. Other people do bats, or birds or other animals where the young have been orphaned. For kangaroos and wallabies an adult body is checked and the pouch marked with a blue cross to indicate that it’s clear. One of her joeys was the size of her palm when it came to her, and needed feeding every three hours. Now it’s every four, but still quite a commitment, so huge respect to her and her husband Brad for taking it on.

Later on I slept in the swag again. It’s really comfortable, and being on ground level it’s also user-friendly if I need to get up in the night for a wee!

The following morning we were on the road for eight, stopping just a few miles up the road at Split Rock to see the aboriginal cave paintings. Incredible to think these are thirteen thousand years old. There are low barriers in place and you’re asked not to touch the rock or take photos, but  you’re very close. Some are more faded than others, and a few have water damage, but most can be made out and there are explanatory guide notes.

From there we headed to the Palmer River Roadhouse on the Mulligan Highway in Lakeland where we had breakfast. In my case yet another variation on the bacon and egg roll theme. It’s situated on the historical Palmer River - site of the original gold rush – so the plan had been to stop and do some fossicking, or gold panning there. Unfortunately though access to the river was only possible by crossing private property, the owner of which had made it clear he wouldn’t allow it. The nearest access is apparently at Maytown which was the main township on the Palmer River Goldfields in Far North Queensland, although it’s now just a ghost town. It was only eighty kilometres from where we were, but would have taken two hours each way along an unmade track so we left it for another time.

Conor knew of another river we could stop at on the way back, but when we got there a construction crew were rebuilding a bridge, and access to the river was closed off.

So we carried on towards our next planned stop, the Mount Carbine, which is a pub with a lot of history. It was shut, with no indication why, so if we think of going there again we’ll ring first to check!

There had been some rain the previous night, although the ground was dry in the morning. However as we neared Port Douglas the road became wet and windscreen wipers were needed. The first time I’d seen this in four weeks! It didn’t last long though, and everywhere was soon dry again.

We unloaded the ute at home, had a bit of a chill then headed into town for a couple of beers and to pick some pizzas up for tea.

It had been a full and very enjoyable weekend, including covering 570 kilometres (about 350 miles) on a variety of roads and surfaces. I soon crashed, knowing we had another full day planned for the morning.

Pictures show Kerry and Conor with the wallaby joeys, the lighthouse at Archer Point, a reminder that ypu're on aboriginal land, view from Archer Point, Cook's Lookout, Kerry and I at the lookout, Kerry and Conor before we hit the red dirt, the red dirt and dust on the Battlecamp Road, Laura Homestead, Peninsula Hotel camp site, some of the birds at Laura, us holding the wallaby joeys,