Out Of The Dreamtime
Sydney Morning Herald
Wednesday June 19, 1991
ON OUR flight into the isolated town of Kununurra, eastern gateway to the Kimberley region of Western Australia, the bas-relief coastline appeared untouched, as jagged and naked as it was in the beginning.
Venous inlets, carrying their precious supplies to sustain the parched inland, seemed at this distance to have been drawn with ink and quill.
Leaving the coast, we flew above the wide Ord River, glinting with the knowledge of its priceless value as it followed its inexorable course through the red dust.
Because of its isolation, the vast, spare Kimberley has lain at peace in the north-west corner of the island continent since time began. Although modern transport and communications have brought it within reach of pleasure trippers, the logistics of travel in the area require fortitude and patience.
"Kununurra" is Aboriginal for "big water". With a population of about 3,000, it is a pleasant, low-lying town which serves as a government outpost and a supply centre for the nearby Argyle diamond mine.
My first priority was to see the Bungle Bungle Range, 450 square kilometres of sandstone massif, horizontally striped by aeons of pebble deposits.
As our tiny plane climbed into the pink-pearl sky, the sun was getting up to greet the first visitors of the day, rapidly gaining ascendancy in the drama that is a Kimberley dawn.
From a soft rouging of the highest points, soon the landscape had become a flaming canvas, swept with the brush of a Nolan against the cerulean sky. There were no clouds and few trees; our aircraft cast the only shadow.
Heading south, we sighted the expanse of Lake Argyle, a giant gem of dazzling turquoise. It was created on the site of Argyle Downs Station, home to generations of Duracks who settled this land when it first emerged like some Rip Van Winkle from prehistory.
When the station was flooded, as part of the Ord River project, the Durack homestead was moved to higher ground where it houses a museum.
Beyond Lake Argyle, there was nothing to convince us that the Earth was not flat until finally, mirage-like in the heat haze, there was Bungle Bungle. Momentarily, it appeared to be the ruins of a civilisation as ancient as the Earth itself.
Since the Dreamtime, the monolithic sandstone domes lay undisturbed. Rising 300 metres above green gullies dotted with waterholes, they had evoked only passing interest from the few white settlers who chanced upon them.
Unsuitable soil and lack of a permanent water supply ensured their rejection by potential homesteaders.
Nomadic tribespeople had always known about the range and still camp there when the waterholes are full. But it is only in the past decade or so that these spectacularly striated rocks have been on the map, after some 350 million years of seclusion.
The tiny aircraft darted, buzzing like a blowfly, through deep, still chasms, banking and soaring before coming in for another sortie. As it tilted sharply, the floor of the ravine so far below rushed by like a film run sideways.
To add to their aura of antiquity, giant goannas, relics of the dinosaurian age, stalked the timeless crevices and sunned themselves on the eternal rocks
The return flight took us over the Argyle diamond mine, the world's largest, lying like a high-tech contradiction to the primitive plain.
If your Bungle Bungle odyssey has whetted your appetite, an exploration of Hidden Valley, north of town, will reveal a topography out of a primeval age.
In the minutes after dawn, I drove to the end of the track, to a natural amphitheatre, site of an ancient corroboree ground. For more than 40,000 years, Aboriginal people gathered here to perform the dances and ceremonies of their tribal rites. Nearby, and barely off the beaten track, well-preserved rock paintings attested further to the tribal activity in this area.
After the seared vastness of the inland, Kununurra seemed to have cornered the market on water. As well as Lake Argyle, there was the Ord River, a favourite recreational area for swimming, waterskiing and messing about in boats.
For ornithologists, the Ord and its environs is close to paradise. And the waterways of the Kimberley are legendary among fisherfolk, both for their freshwater fish like the succulent barramundi and for local crays, called cherabin. You will need an inland fishing licence before trying your luck.
I returned to what passes for civilisation with the firm belief that, if we allow anything to disturb the precise balance of this venerable place, the world will be poorer for our carelessness.
FACT FILE
ANSETT'S lowest return air fare from Broome to Kununurra is $298, but special conditions apply. Twin-share accommodation is available from the Kimberley Court Motel or the Quality Overland Motor Inn at $48 a night.
See local tour operators for details of scenic flights.
For more information contact Ansett phone (02)2681234 or a travel agent.
© 1991 Sydney Morning Herald
Share This