2006 : East Coast Oz
The last excuse expired on the 19th September as the kayak eased onto Thursday Island. After six months of planning and then six months of paddling I realised I’d need to start looking for a job.
On the beach at Thursday island after the 4900km journey.
It was the end of the line, the top of Australia. Given my lack of paddling experience it was a surprisingly trouble free journey. Leaving the home-shores of Tasmania to cross Bass Strait was an early test. Reaching Sealers Cove on Wilson’s Prom was an understandable highlight. Bungled surf landings along Ninety Mile Beach and beyond were a sidelight, and losing hats (3), sunglasses (6+) and sponges were a lowlight. Sidling behind Fraser Island and then the Great Barrier Reef marked a change of situation. Checking the swell and wind, and studying the maps for protected landings and camps became redundant. The south-easterly wind blew predictably as progress to Cooktown gained speed. Lingering in town for a few days I loaded up with oats, sultanas, earl grey tea-bags and thirty litres of water for the final push to the top. The landscape was captivating and the crocodiles frightening. The current and the wind pushed me around Cape York and I slapped the kayak gently, like you would to a good friend. Having met many wonderful people, travellers and locals alike, having seen a side of Australia from the edge, beautiful, scarred, dynamic, it was impossible to feel anything but happy. Maybe a little bit relieved too.
