We arrived at Chilli Beach on 30 June in anticipation for a two night stay. We found a great camp on the beach and proceeded to set up for the stay. It was a great afternoon with a slight breeze, and at this point we were wondering why everyone had warned us about staying as the winds were really bad. We had unpacked the campers and settled in for happy hour when the wind started to pick up and a few drops of rain started to fall. At this point we were still happy with no signs of what we were in stall for. The rain began to fall and sausage sandwiches were on the menu for dinner. The winds howled and we bunkered in for the night. Once we were tucked up in our camper we realised why we were warned, a sleepless night and the morning bought another day and more adventure.
The following day we headed into Lockhart River (an aboriginal community) where we stocked up on groceries at the local IGA. The young aboriginal kids were laughing at Melissa and Nat because they were so white, it was cute to watch them following them around the shop. We stopped at the Gordon Air Strip which was used by the US in WWII. It now used as a commercial air strip to bring in locals and supplies for the small town. While waiting we watched a plane land and bring in more workers.
We than drove out to Portland Roads for a look at the old port used to bring in supplies for the Gordon Air Base, this was a beautiful bay and nowhere as windy as Chilli Beach. Once back at the camp we took a walk over to a close by island, only accessible at low tide. Here we were able to fossic for oysters and crabs. The bet was on, with Terry betting Melissa and Nat to eat a black lipped oyster for ten dollars. Well, Melissa had three tries. Holding the oyster in her mouth, before spitting it out, but Nat, one go and down it went. Terry has to pay up now!
This bought us to our last night at Chilli Beach and once dinner was eaten we armed ourselves with our kitchen tongs, torches and a bucket and headed down toward the beach for a ghost crabbing adventure. Here we started down the beach and the kids were darting in and out of the waves snapping at the crabs with their tongs before they headed back into the beach. Another windy night and we were ready to pack up and head toward Bramwell Station.
This part of our trip north had us heading on a track known as the Frenchmans Track. This was a track for experienced 4WD’s and we were not long into the journey to see that not too many people had travelled it before us. It was a long slow trip compares to some of the other roads we had previously travelled and we weaved our way back towards the Telegraph Road. Our first stop was the renowned Pascoe River, which we had been warned was a steep incline followed by a water crossing and a steep climb out the other side, we had been preparing for this one since we left Cairns, our first big test. On arrival, we found two Brtiz hire 4WD were parked on the track as if they were going to cross. They had no recovery gear and decided not to tackle the crossing.
The boys went down to the edge of the river and proceeded to walk across to find the easiest and safest route for the trucks and trailers to travel. Once we had a good look at the water it was then onto the climb on the other side. After a good half hour of walk and talk we decided it was time to get the cars ready for their first big river crossing. Out came the tarps to form water blinds, so water doesn’t get in the engine bay, out came the winching gear in case of emergency and again we were walking the river to locate the correct winching points if needed. Once we had all the gear set up it was time for the boys to prepare for the crossing.
Our vehicle crossing the Pascoe River, Cape York
Steve and Viv's Paj crossing the Pascoe.
Steve was the first to set off across the mighty Pascoe, we all took our places, Viv on video, Terry on river watch and myself on camera. The truck looked mean as it pushed its way through the water and up onto the rocky climb out. He seemed to be jumping around like a matchbox car as he climbed the rocky passage out. Yeh he made it we let out a cheer and watched him walk back down the hill with a smile of accomplishment. Next it was Terry’s turn, again we all took our places, this time Steve was on river watch. The truck pulled around the corner and he was ploughing his way through the water and onto the rocky climb, again the truck bobbed and jerked its way up the hill. Before we knew it he too was at the top of the hill and we all let out another shout of yeh. He then appeared with a grin from ear to ear and had bought the celebratory drinks with him. Our boys had conquered the river and had turned into men.
Once we had drank our beers we all walked up the hill to assess the trucks and trailers to see how they had fared. The water level marks were quite staggering when we stopped and looked. We both had water in the trailers, ours not too bad, Steve and Viv a bit more, but all good. We were all quite happy that none of the recovery gear was needed and quite chuffed that we had passed the first major crossing without any real problems. We were now looking forward to making our way to the next challenge of the Wenlock.
We had previously been told that the Pascoe was the harder of the two river crossings and were looking forward to getting the cars wet again. The Frenchman track was proving to be harder than first thought and we were making slow progress. When we finally hit the Wenlock we could see that the river was a lot shallower and there was a nice easy sandy spot to stop on the other side. We once again set of to walk the river to make sure there were no nasty surprises waiting underneath the water. Once the boys (I mean men) were happy, we set about crossing the river to the base of the climb out. As legend would have it the river was easier to cross and no recovery required here either. We then proceeded to assess the climb up the hill. We could see the original track hadn’t been used for some time and there was a whopping big tree that had fallen across the top of the track, obviously this track was not an option. The other track which now looked like the most used track was the only option we had left. This track was very boggy with mud and was quite a bit of an incline which turned a bend to reach the top. Once again the men walked and talked, which line would be taken to reach the top.
Again Steve went first, he put the truck into 4WD and we all took our places to get video and photo’s. He hit the hill and was doing fine until he hit the bank and started to slide into the mud. Once in the mud the trailer followed him in and he was stuck hard up against the bank with nowhere to go. Once he climbed out the passenger side door, we all assessed the situation, took some photos and start to set up the winch to get him out. We all shook our heads and said this was supposed to be the easy crossing.
Out came the winch attached to a large tree. Steve started the winch and after 10-15 seconds, nothing. For some reason the winch had stopped working. Re-assess. Out came the hand winch and we set up to hand winch Steve out. While slowly winching we heard the noise of approaching 4WDs. To our surprise two older gentlemen headed our way to see what the hold up was. They advised us they were here to cut up the big tree blocking the track, this was the track we assumed was the old track, to our surprise this in fact was the track and they proceeded with chainsaw and chains to clear the way. Meanwhile the hand winching continued. This was a mightly task, as Steve Paj and Trailer weighed a few tonne. After about 2 hours, Steve was out of the boggy mess and sitting at the top of the climb.
It was Terry’s turn. We dug out a corner of the track to allow for more space to drive up the track. And away he went. Around the corner he came, all was going well, until the rear of our trailer, slipped into the bog, he gave it everything but was going nowhere. He reversed and tried a different line but the trailer was playing no part in the effort to proceed up the hill. Once we knew there was no getting out we proceeded to access the situation. As Terry we further down the hill than Steve we had to work out the beat angle for the winching, we knew we in for a long afternoon, as another 2 hour winching episode was about to start. From the top of the hill 2 young blokes appeared travelling south to chilli Beach, they told us they would help winch us out. So the fun was about to begin. Dennis proceeded to bring the Prado down the hill and prepare the gear for the winching. He proceeded to tell us that this was the first time the winch would be used. As we prepared to winch his Prado started to slip down the hill, his hand brake wasn’t working since crossing Nolans Brook (a creek further north). As Terry hadn’t budged at all we needed a plan B. Steve positioned the Paj at the top of the hill and stretched his winch and attached it to Dennis’s tow bar, this was to support Dennis from being sucked into the mud with Terry. As the sun set we knew this was going to be an a story to tell around the camp fire. We continues to winch until Steve thought the winch was going to fail, at this moment Terry yelled “keep going” as he felt the patrol finally let go of the sucking mud and start crawling up the hill. Bit by bit he crawled until we could see his headlights at the top of the hill. By eight o’clock he was safe at the top.
We thanked the boys for pulling us out and proceeded to crack a beer to salute the day that had just unfolded. We set up camp and had a feed of noodle cups and cup a soup for dinner. We all headed to bed for a well earn’t sleep and dreams of knee deep mud and winching in the dark.
The next morning we woke to a new day and shaking of our heads that the previous day wasn’t a dream. After collecting all the winching gear, maxx tracks and shovels we proceeded to pack up camp and with one more huge thanks to Dennis and Bryce. We proceed to head for the previous days pit stop of Bramwell Station. After finally reaching the OTL (Old Telegraph Line) we headed north again to find Morton Station, our only mission was that this stay must include a washing machine, as we were running out of clothes. On arrival at Morton it was a beautiful station with camping facilities but unfortunately no washing machines. We had a quick discussion and all agreed that we would head to Bramwell.
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