Friday 13 June 2025

This morning’s outing is a fishing trip in the Liverpool River. Now, I’ve been on many fishing trips in my life but none of them have involved a boat, or indeed a hook. Cherrie and I are assigned the MV Cadel with Anne and Paul. Four non fishers for poor Leigh, who is our captain. We launch into the Arafura Sea

and head to the river. This body of water is enormous and apparently not the biggest in the Territory. But the Liverpool River discharges enough water into the Arafura Sea each year to fill Sydney Harbour eight times.

The mangroves surround us

Eye Spy

But wait, there’s more

We really got out teeth into these crocs

And we saw lots of birds, including these two

And an out of focus jabiru

As the water sparkles

We cast a line. Actually Leigh casts it for us. We take it in turns, two at a time. The boat slowly putts along, Leigh’s eyes glued to the screen which shows him where the fish are, and we catch…..nothing. Not even a bite. None of us. Oh well, we weren’t all that keen on fishing anyway. But, just as we reel in…absolutely nothing, and Leigh puts his foot down (as it were) to return us to shore, we get our chance. Leigh’s cap has blown off. Here’s our chance to catch something. And after a few twists and turns, the cap succumbs to the net. Which Leigh holds

Our group has separated into two today, with 8 fishing this morning over two boats, and the remainder visiting the Art Gallery and Museum. As we return to shore, empty handed as it were (although any catch would have been released so at least we have saved a few sore gums) the other fishing group celebrates their catch of 14. Talk about tall fishing stories. Off for some real culture now

we learn about the ancient preparation of the pandanus leaves for weaving

Sometimes, of course, modernity interupts ancient arts

It’s fascinating to watch how these women transform a leaf into a basket…there are a few steps in between, including drying and dying and weaving, but we get the gist and appreciate the extraordinary art. Speaking of which, we have time to soak up the gallery

We have noticed this pretty flower by the side of the roads as we travel this part of the world, and Cherrie spies the Turkey Bush outside the Arts Centre. Wattle she think of next?

Meanwhile, I spy a bone coffin

When out bush with Frankie at Murwangi I ate green ants. Liquid citrus and delicious. Since then we have imbibed, just a teensy weensy bit, in Green Ant Gin and it’s great. At the Arts Centre today we saw this sign, in response to a member of the community collecting so many green ants for sale that the tree died

We move via our bus to the Museum, where our three basket weavers join us, together with the assistant manager of the Gallery who has only been here for a couple of months. Her lack of knowledge was evident whilst we were at the Gallery but really came to the fore here, at the Museum. She asked the women to give us the tour. They revealed that they had never been to the Museum before. In fairness, I should reveal that the manager of the museum, who I imagine is a mine of information, was off sick today. Fortunately, the signage was pretty good and we were kept busy

We painted some bark

Dame Edna had been here before us but we made a head dress of kangaroo teeth (who knew kangaroo had teeth?) and a necklace of snake spine. Unfortunately we were not able to keep or sell these

We trapped some fish

And we rowed the boats

and we generally had a whale of a time, but no whale to be seen

Into the sunset goes another day, to the bucolic sounds of the kookaburra