MONDAY 13 JULY   HANN CROSSING TO COEN   210kms

Today was quite hot.

We did a calm pack up and left Hann Crossing at about 10am. At the main Lakefield Track, we turned right. The track was reasonable – some corrugated sections.

Not far from camp, we crossed the actual Hann River – Hann Crossing where we were is a bit of a misnomer. There were a series of stream channels to cross – mostly dry, but dips that had to be taken slowly. The Morehead River had a little water in it.

We drove over the Nifold Plain, which we think must be black soil country – grass, few trees, lots of termite mounds, flat. It was actually quite surreal and rather monotone.

The track swung to the west and then south west, as we drew nearer to the coast of Princess Charlotte Bay.

We took a side track to the south that led to the Low Lake and explored some tracks around its edges. It is a lovely, large, swamp, probably the prettiest we have seen, to date.

Back on the main track ,we stopped briefly at Saltwater Creek crossing, where there were sizeable waterholes each side of the crossing. John saw fish jumping there and wanted to try his luck. He lost his silver wobbler lure on a snag on his first cast! I saw a croc, floating, downstream from the crossing. We did not stay long!

A few kms from Saltwater Creek, after a long, sandy, dusty stretch of road, a squealing noise suddenly started coming from the front of Truck. Our initial reaction was that it was a tyre going flat. We stopped – the tyres were ok. John experimented with going forwards and then backwards a few times, and decided it might be a stone in the brakes, because the noise only happened going forward. After a few more reverses, it stopped altogether.

At the western edge of the Lakefield National Park, we passed Lotus Bird Lodge. Had this place offered camping, we’d have stayed there, because with the number of swamps and little lakes around it, the bird watching would have been great.

The Lakefield track rejoined the main Peninsula Development Road at Musgrave Roadhouse, where we had a break. The roadhouse building was a telegraph station on the Overland Telegraph Line, and was built in the 1880’s.

Bought diesel – 86cpl. Treated ourselves to a cold can of beer each – cost $3.10 each! We went to the creek at Musgrave and ate our lunch – enjoyed the beers no end. I cooled my feet in the little creek rapids.

Pushed on towards Coen.

The road began to have some really deep (like 20 foot) dips, into creek crossings, often with a big bump in the bottom. They went down and up again quite steeply, and the creek at the bottom was often only a trickle. Some were dry, or just a puddle – which meant you could not see what was in there! They were – mostly – signposted “DIP”. Around the first one we encountered there was a lot of scattered ex-vehicle rubbish, like battery brackets, and assorted pieces of metal. This debris was less at the second big dip and reduced considerably after that, though there had obviously been some really slow learners using this road!

In one dip there was a 4WD with a camper trailer – he had jack knifed the trailer around into the side of the vehicle and done some damage. It was fairly easy to see that he had hit the bottom way too fast. The man did not give any indication that he wanted us to stop, as we edged by – so we didn’t.

There were some dusty and rough patches. Saw a broken battery by one of these.

There were a couple of areas of low ranges and Coen has hills around it.

Mostly, we could do 70-90kmh and hence avoid the worst of the corrugation impacts, whilst being constantly alert for a lurking, non-signposted dip.

Coen is a small, dusty, mostly aboriginal settlement. There are a few basic businesses: hotel, guest house, store, servo – and a welder with clients queued up!

The Coen campground was behind the store and Post Office. We got a powered site in the small and rather grotty establishment – for $11 a night. John needed to charge some batteries on power and we were looking forward to a proper shower.

There were a few more permanent guests in the campground – government workers. Later in the day we got chatting to one – a contracted DPI fruit inspector, who was really interesting. He had been in the police and military police and been all over. He said the local aborigines regard Coen as theirs and whites must watch where they go and what they do. We told him how we’d been inspected for fruit at the Laura River. He said that it was all rather a futile effort because some of the aboriginal communities and camps won’t let the inspectors near their fruit trees – like out at Port Stewart – so the fruit fly gets a real hold anyway.

We set up the small tent and John set about charging his torch battery.

The campground was not too full. It smelled – of drains, and swampy. The amenities were not real flash; there were two rooms in the Ladies, with a shower, toilet and basin in each. The Men’s was an Atco portable donga room. John reported it as rather wet and messy. We soon realized that the toilets were used by the local aborigines who walk freely through the campground. There are no public toilets in Coen, apparently.

We bought some frozen mince at the store, and half a dozen cans of beer at the hotel.

After driving for much of the day, we needed some exercise, so went for a walk and a look around the township – as one does. Walked along the main street to the end of the shops and houses, to where we could see down into the dry Coen River bed. Started to walk down to look more closely at the river – then saw that there were huge heaps of wine casks under the trees. Modern day middens? Some locals sitting under a tree gave us nasty looks, then a group walking down the bank came close and started muttering amongst themselves. We felt threatened and retreated back to the campground. I wasn’t game to try to take a photo of the wine cask midden.

Next to the campground is a big council type machinery depot. As we sat by our tent in the late afternoon, watched the aboriginal workers bring back grader, tractor, front end loader. We also noted, after dark, that the lights had been left on, on some of the vehicles!

The fruit inspector man told us that the local aboriginals were given the contract to maintain the roads around here, and funding bought nice new machinery for this. Obviously, the white companies that used to do the work upped sticks and left, so there is no one now to train the locals or to properly maintain the plant. Thus, there is a downward spiral of deterioration. The road upkeep has suffered as a result. We were to see, further north, much evidence of this.

It was good to shower and feel clean again! Even though the shower water did not drain away and the tide rose! I just hoped that the inches of water I was standing in were from my shower only. Yuk! There is a major drainage problem somewhere around here – hence the smell.

Tea was hamburgers made from the mince I bought, on the last of the pita breads.