SATURDAY 18 JULY SILVER PLAINS CAMP
We are eating orange halves for breakfast, instead of grapefruit, which we ran out of in Lakefield. I was able to buy some oranges in Coen, but not grapefruit. We are taking longer on this southernmost portion of the Cape than we had anticipated, when shopping in Cooktown.
John drove off to the fishing area in the morning, to try to dibble for more bait. Then, he got tempted to try a little exploring. He followed a track that led to some bare, dry, mudflats, and ventured onto them, thinking he might find a way closer to the sea. After a very short way, fortunately, he thought it didn’t “feel” right, so reversed back off the flats. This turned out to be a wise decision as D told us later that those flats have already claimed a Hilux – it is still down there somewhere, under the deep mud below the seemingly dry crust.
Whilst he was away, I worked on a letter, and baked foccacia for lunch, in the camp oven.
Our camp at Silver Plains. The green trees mark the line of the small creek behind us
When we were doing things around camp, after John got back, found his bath soap on the ground – flattened in a tyre tread pattern, and with muck all over it. John has gotten into the habit, when he is showering, of putting his soap on the top of the nearest tyre. Handy shelf. But he obviously hadn’t put it away, afterwards.
John with his squished soap and the solar shower bag. We have a very handsome termite mound as a near neighbour too
In the afternoon, we went for a little walk, up the track from our camp to where it joins the main track between the homestead and the fishing area. Probably a 3km or so, walk. A big lizard saw us coming up the track, and stood on his hind legs to get a better look. I didn’t know they did that. Don’t think I’d like him running towards me!
Big reptile watching us approach
John carefully selected and cut two thin sapling lengths, that he wants to smooth and shape to make us a walking support stick each.
Relaxing in the shade at camp. The “tables” come with the site.
Tea was more barra – this time to the “Happiness Crocodile” recipe I have written in my travel cookbooks. It was good, too, despite the change of protein, from that specified in the recipe.
We are both extremely itchy from the sandfly bites.
Before we went to bed, realized that we could hear, quite clearly, a motor in the distance. It did not sound like the type of engine noise that would come from a car or a generator at one of the other camp spots – and it went on all night. We wondered if it was a fishing trawler, working close inshore? As we do not really know where the sea is, in relation to our camp, it was hard to be sure.
This Adventurous Age 