Destination Unknown, Part 12: Kakadu, Crocs & The Stuart Highway

by | Apr 30, 2026 | Uncategorized | 0 comments

From Darwin I headed to Kakadu National Park where Cahills Crossing was my first port of call.

It’s a 400m concrete crossing on the East Alligator River connecting Kakadu to Arnhem Land, home to the Yolngu people. The crossing is famous for its high density of saltwater crocodiles that congregate to feed on fish when the tide turns and submerges the road.

There’ve been fatal attacks in the past and some risky behaviour by people fishing or walking in the water. Utes and trucks drove across at a steady rate but dwindled as the tide turned and the crossing became submerged.

A croc rose to the surface to my right and then disappeared. And then another appeared. And another. And another. All in place and waiting for the barramundi.

It was mesmeric and I watched for hours. At times it made me shudder – those long snouts and eyes and their sheer size as they waited for their prey. How they moved so quickly and quietly.

I spent so long there that my visit to see the Aboriginal art at Ubirr was only a fleeting one which was a real shame although I was glad to have at least made it there for a few minutes. I shall just have to return.

I barrelled down to Cooinda Lodge as I’d booked the evening cruise on Yellow Water Billabong. But I was completely tense and wound up: my nerve endings were on fire and my mind was exploding, I felt panicky. There was some self-sabotage with my mind inventing negative scenarios.

On I barrelled and arrived although I hadn’t booked anywhere to stay which sent my stress levels through the roof. Luckily, one of the guys who worked there helped me out and sorted me a tent with ventilation flaps. He was a godsend, another guardian angel really and I see how lucky I’ve been to encounter several on my travels.

The cruise was just amazing: herons, kingfishers, Asian water buffalo, yellow snakes, giant water lilies and of course, crocs. Huge saltwater crocodiles up to 4.5m long. There were so many of them: one appeared to my right-hand side with just its snout and eyes above the water and its long tail swooshing. And just as quickly it disappeared back beneath the surface. They basked on the riverbank, their mouths open to regulate their body temperature; one chomped down on a huge wriggling fish which stood no chance; another looked annoyed by the proximity of the boat and quickly swam over to us looking up into the boat; one emitted a loud, guttural growling, something they do to protect territory or signal during mating season.

It was a privilege to witness it all and we returned as the sun set.

I slept well although I had an upset tummy the next day but I suddenly felt better. Had that been the cause of me feeling so out of sorts?

Soaking In The Natural Pools

After a huge breakfast, I headed south again into Edith Falls in the relentless glare of the heat. Then to Bitter Springs which was glorious: natural pools that were crystal clear with a current so you floated down them like a lazy river while looking up and around at the forest. I loved it there; it was quiet and calm.

Then to Mataranka where I opted to stay in a cabin at the homestead rather than camp as a storm had been forecast. The springs there were gorgeous too although they were pools rather than a lazy river as in Bitter Springs. I floated on my back and looked at all the bats hanging from the trees.

I sat outside the cabin and watched the wallabies. I felt the storm arrive and sat there as the thunder became louder and louder and the lightning lit everything up.

I pondered the previous couple of days and was fearful that the overall experience wasn’t affecting me as much as it had done previously, that I’d had sensory overload. Wangi Falls had shown me about experiencing life in the moment but there’s only so much you can absorb.

My mind and body were telling me to slow down and now I realise I could have stayed a few more days in Litchfield to swim in waterfalls and read and just decompress after what had been a very intense experience driving up through WA which had been more than I could have ever hoped for.

Down The Stuart Highway 

But on I went and hit the Stuart Highway, one of the world’s iconic roads. I passed Larrimah, a town famous for a presumed murder but where the notoriety and true crime obsession has obscured the life lost.

The landscape changed from cinnamon-coloured earth and spinifex to an ocean of green trees and orange sand. There was debris from bushfires and then acres of spinifex once more; a sole monolith stood alone; huge boulders; lorries kicking up red dust clouds.

I stopped at Dunmarra servo to fill up with petrol. It was very, very still with a heavy loaded silence.

There were posters of missing people taped up in the forecourt window, one of them was Paddy Moriarty, whose disappearance and presumed murder had brought spotlight and attention to Larrimah. Here was proof that he was once a living, breathing person and not a bit part actor in his own life. Another man in his 60s was missing in Katherine and although he was an experienced bushman there were fears for his wellbeing. A third man was the victim of a hit and run with police appealing for information.

I headed south again. It was all completely untamed and at times I felt unsettled. I’d be driving and suddenly get some negative vibes that lasted about a minute and made me wonder if bad things had happened along that particular stretch of highway.

I passed Renner Springs where there was a hill of burnt-out cars piled on top of each other. I barrelled on with signs appearing for Tennant Creek and Alice Springs and my thoughts turned to Peter Falconio who disappeared in that particular region.

Where previously I’d experienced a beautiful solitude when driving through the vast expanses of WA, here I felt isolation.

Leaving The Northern Territory Behind

I felt differently the instant I turned onto the Barkly Highway. The sky was pale blue and huge marked by small clouds. The sun warmed the landscape and the colours were soft.

I slept and ate well at Barkly Homestead before heading off early the next morning. Grasslands stretched for miles – just yellow expanses and a blue sky. The road shimmered and whenever I drove uphill I couldn’t tell where the land ended and the sky began. I felt at times as if I was going to drive into the sky. There was a softness to it all and I felt far more relaxed.

Then I reached a large sign that told me I was about to enter Queensland and once I’d passed it I felt very different to the previous day where the long stretch I’d driven was through wild, untamed country that as well as having a sense of freedom, also unnerved me.

With hindsight, I realise that I’d driven too far too quickly after such an intense experience in WA. I loved parts of the Northern Territory: Litchfield was beautiful and calm; Katherine was independent and full of quirks and stunning nature; Darwin was so many things and a place to which I’ll return and one day in Kakadu is not even scratching the surface.

I’ll definitely return and drive the Stuart Highway again but that day I felt a sense of relief to cross into Queensland.

 

 

 

Submit a Comment

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *