Rex Ellis Was Born in 1942 and Lives with His Wife, Patti, in Their Rammed

Rex Ellis was born in 1942 and lives with his wife, Patti, in their rammed-earth and native-timber house surrounded by old-growth mallee scrub and located on colourful cliffs overlooking the River Murray. From this semi-desert base he operates short summer safaris by camel, boat or 4WD vehicle, and longer safaris throughout the outback of Australia in the winter. After jackerooing and overseeing on sheep stations for six years, he began his safari business in 1965, operating in many non-tourist areas. In 1971 Rex led the first party of tourists to cross the Simpson Desert. Subsequent trips have been to other deserts and tropical regions, such as Cape York Peninsula, the Gulf country and the Kimberley region. His regular 4WD trips were to the Nullarbor/Great Victoria Desert, Birdsville/Strzelecki Tracks and Flinders Ranges. He purchased the Birdsville Pub in 1973, and for six years used it as a base for trips into the Simpson Desert. Inland boat safaris became a specialty after Rex made the first and only crossing of Lake Eyre by boat during the 1974 floods. Since then he has followed most of the inland’s flooding rivers. In 1976 he pioneered long-haul desert camel expeditions and has crossed all the Australian deserts. When not travelling or writing, he plants native trees and pursues his inter- est in wildlife, in particular, birds. [Author photograph: Lyn Bartlet] Also by Rex Ellis

Bush Safari (Rigby and MacMillan) Mulga Madness (Central Queensland University Press) Outback by Camel (Simon & Schuster) Ten Thousand Campfires (Central Queensland University Press) Boats in the Desert (Central Queensland University Press) Map of the Australian Deserts (Adelaide Map Shop) Rex Ellis Wakefield Press 1 The Parade West Kent Town South Australia 5067 www.wakefieldpress.com.au

First published 2009

All rights reserved. This book is copyright. Apart from any fair dealing for the purposes of private study, research, criticism or review, as permitted under the Copyright Act, no part may be reproduced without written permission. Enquiries should be addressed to the publisher.

Cover design by Stacey Zass Typeset by Wakefield Press Printed and bound by Hyde Park Press, Adelaide

National Library of Australia Cataloguing-in-Publication entry Author: Ellis, Rex, 1942– . Title: Go with the flow/Rex Ellis. ISBN: 978 1 86254 853 4 (pbk.). Subjects: Ellis, Rex, 1942– . Travelers – Australia – Anecdotes. Australia – Description and travel. Australia – Social life and customs. Australia – Environmental conditions. Dewey Number: 919.40494 Contents

Map of the Inland River System vi Foreword vii Introduction x Acknowledgements xi 1. Desert Boating – 2007 Inland Floods 1 2. Stoney’s 40th 15 3. Cocklebiddy, the Sydney Show and Kybo Station 20 4. Bush Hats 37 5. The Multilevel Experience 41 6. A Bad Smell 51 7. The Nullarbor Nymph 54 8. The Crystal People 57 9. Wedge-Tailed Eagles and Other Raptors 64 10. Physical Book Launches 72 11. Awards 83 12. Geeb – The Innocent One 89 13. Bureaucracy and the Shiny-Bum Brigade 95 14. Odds and Ends along the Rocky Road of Life 104 15. The Man from Rabbit Flat 121 16. The Difficult Pick-up 130 17. My Love Affair with Peugeots 134 18. Prince Regent River Expedition – Kimberley Coast 138 19. A Great Victoria Desert Camel Expedition 157 20. Outback Tragedy – The Page Family Perish 167 21. A Nullarbor Bushman 174 22. Cooper Creek Boat Safari (2008) 178 23. The Dromedary – Down a Lazy River 187 24. A Final Word 194 Introduction

‘Go with the flow’ is an often-heard term. It is arguably a good course to adopt if you wish a relatively trouble-free life. Whether following inland floods by boat or crossing desert dunes, it is far easier to go with the current, or traverse the dunes where the prevailing winds have created a more gradual slope. As I write this there is a lot of ‘flow’ happening in western Queensland. In an ideal world I would be up there operating a boat trip down the flooding Warrego River – ‘going with the flow’, of course; or maybe later, as the Warrego runs into the Darling, giving life to a previously dead river – a river murdered by Australians. Describing this book would be a difficult task, the subject matter being as diverse as the Land of Oz itself. You could apply ‘go with the flow’ to a few chapters, but certainly not all. Sometimes it takes guts and personal sacrifice, and that is covered here. A thing I hold very dear is the Australian spirit, in all its manifestations, but increasingly it is under siege from both within and outside the country. We undoubtedly live in the best and luckiest country in the world, but many Australians take this for granted, or seem totally unaware of it. No matter what your problems, you are better off having them here than in other parts of the world. There is no better time for Australians to take the lead in tackling many of the world’s problems – particularly environmental. Nature can teach us most things, and if a bird’s nest is not spot on, the bird cannot survive. Our nest is the environment and unless we fix and maintain it, we have no future. Pretty simple equation, really. We should be world leaders in renewable energy, but typically wealthy interests keep the lid on new developments. We could show the world how to excel on limited water. While our governments march to the tune of the banks and multinational corporations, it is exceed- ingly difficult for change to occur. Many problems used to be caused by

x ignorance and greed, but these days it is mainly greed. We know many of the answers but greed is the major factor that prevents the solutions from being applied. The classic example is the case of hemp (not mari- juana). We live on a huge desert island with limited water available, yet we grow cotton and rice with their massive requirements of chemicals and water. Much of these crops are grown by wealthy corporations and businessmen. Without a grass roots-led revolution, not a lot will change. Small independent newspapers are a big help, but eventually the public will have to take up the cause and run with it. And they may have to ‘go against the flow’ to do it.

Rex Ellis

Acknowledgements

Front cover painting: Jeff Morgan (Hawker, SA) Back cover photo of Rex with Billycan: Fran Cumming Cartoons: George Aldridge Typing: Nicole Hahn

With thanks to ‘Stoney’, ‘Spitta’, Bruce Farrands and Eileen Nelson for their contributions; and, last but not least, to my wife, Patti, who puts up with a lot.

Chapter 1

Desert Boating – 2007 Inland Floods

In February 2007, big rains fell in south-west Queensland resulting in local flooding in the Diamantina and Georgina Rivers. At the time I was sitting on the flooding Hookina Creek in the Flinders Ranges where up to six inches of rain had washed out sections of bitumen road and caused external damage to fencing and roads on surrounding stations. I was bringing a truckload of camels from Arkaroola with a couple of mates, Barry Elliott and Len Cooper. Stranded with us was the manager of Durrie Station on the Diamantina River, Norm Simms, and his family. He was trying to get the kids back to school in Port Augusta. He had phoned Durrie, and heard that over four inches of rain had fallen. I started thinking boat trips – all the Queensland monsoon flood water would be behind the local flooding, guaranteeing me navigable water. I was tickled pink. As soon as I arrived home I began planning trips – one on Eyre Creek, one on the Diamantina, and maybe two down the Warburton River to Lake Eyre when the massive Goyder Lagoon Swamp filled and began running into the Warburton Channel. This chapter describes those trips.

As Jimmy Crombe and Don Rowlands headed back to Birdsville in my Oka 4WD, four of us were left at Lake Cuttaburra, over a hundred kilometres north of Birdsville. The road disappeared into the creamy water of the Georgina River system, and we were sitting on our swags surrounded

1 Go With the Flow by the boat and sundry gear. The boys had grilled steaks before they left and as the Oka’s motor receded in the distance, we sat with beers in our hands, anticipating the adventure before us. My offsider was a good mate called ‘Spitta’ (his birth certificate records the name of James Spitzcowsky) from the shores of the Great Australian Bight, Joey Gough from Scotland, and Martin Tucker from Adelaide, one of my regular ‘river runners’ – and, of course, Billycan, my Jack Russell. I had returned to the river to try and complete a route I had attempted some five years earlier – to follow the Eyre Creek through a large series of channels to Lake Muncooney on Eyre Creek in the Simpson Desert. We had been unsuccessful on that occasion, our channels always ending in shallow water. On this occasion, the Mulligan in the north-east Simpson Desert was also running and I had hoped there might be enough water to bulk up the lignum swamp. If it was not deep enough for us to get through, I would return to the point where the vehicles left us and the boys would return and pick us up. We would then spend the rest of the trip on the Diamantina River, south of Birdsville. It was my intention to head north up the river to Glengyle Station and have a yarn to John Cobb, the manager, before heading south and tackling the swamp. We were up at daylight, had our fruit juice, cereal, toast and hot brew, before loading the 14-foot Stacer punt, with its steel frame, canvas canopy and comfortable seating. We pushed it for nearly half a kilometre through shallow water in the depression off the edge of the road, but after 20 minutes we were in the main channel and heading north at 5 km/h against a strong current. There were many white-eyed ducks (hardheads) and numerous flocks of plumed whistling duck, with their dis- tinctive calls. The good local rains had provided lush grass and herbage on the flood plain, visible through the coolibahs lining the bank. And we saw several mobs of wild pigs, one mob swimming the river in front of us with surprising speed. Unfortunately, these feral pests are increas- ing in south-west Queensland rivers and are also found in the north of South Australia. Around midday we arrived at the homestead on Glengyle, a Kidman

2 Desert Boating – 2007 Inland Floods station and the largest in Queensland. John and Michelle Cob put the kettle on and we brought in our lunch. He mentioned the Toko Channel, which left the river about 25 kilometres up stream, and ran east from the main channel and into Lake Cuttaburra. John said it had never had boats down it and might be worth a try. Why not? We would have time to try it, along with our other plans, so later we were back in the boat and heading further upstream. We pulled up about 6 pm and made camp. It had been a good day. About an hour into our morning’s travel we began looking for oppor- tunities to get out to the Toco Channel. We could see the timberline about 3 kms to the east, on the other side of a large flood flat. A couple of attempts led to shallow water. We negotiated a fence (Spitta hopped out into chest-deep water and undid the top ties on the barb wire, as I floated over with the outboard raised), and soon after followed a promising channel that led onto the flood flat. Half an hour later, using the vegetation as a guide, we finally reached the Toco Channel. It was mid morning, so we pulled up to a large red sand dune for a swim and smoko. You don’t notice the heat in the boats; in fact it is pleasant on the water on the hottest of days. The canopy gives shade and there is often a breeze of some kind. Today was around 43o C. We climbed the sandhill for a look around, and had a swim before settling down to our coffee and biscuits. Soon after, we were into fast-flowing channels, and in several places I had to cut our way through the bush with a saw. Lunch and a swim, at the base of another large dune. The afternoon produced easy travelling until we came out on a flood flat a couple of kilometres wide. The water was over a metre deep, apart from one spot where we ran aground, but we soon got going again in a wider channel. About 4 pm it started to widen to 60 metres or more, and then we could see a huge mass of water ahead of us, with no horizon. Motoring out on to Lake Cuttaburra was an interesting experience. Very satisfying to have travelled the Toco Channel, and then the flat calm of the lake with its cloud reflections. We set a course for where we reck- oned the outlet was, and made for it, but after an hour with increasingly

3 Go With the Flow shallow water we began encountering weed. We were down to less than half a metre of water, so we pulled up and switched off the motor. Peaceful, but it was starting to look like we might have to camp on the boat. Standing up and looking through my binoculars, I could see rock outcrops on the southern shore, where the gibber desert ran into the lake. There was a better chance of getting into shore there, so after a bit of pushing, we lowered the outboard and set off. The wind kept down, which was a relief as open lakes scare me. I knew from experience that an open lake is no place to be in a loaded boat if the wind gets up. When we reached the middle, we could only see a shoreline on about 40 per cent of the lake, but the pieces of breakaway (remnant plateau) were getting larger and a landing looked promising. The only bird life out here consisted of hardheads, feeding on surface weed. This duck likes deep water and, unusually, will feed on small fish. It is also among the fastest flyers of the ducks, a good sight with its off- white wing stripes. With an hour left before sunset, we came to a stop in shallow water, some 30 metres from the shore. The shoreline was barren but attractive with broken outcrops some six metres high and the dark red gibbers of the Sturt Stony Desert. We selected a stretch of sandy beach, relatively gibber free, and with a number of trips, carted the gear in through knee-deep water. Billy was in the first load, and rushed to a large rock where he cocked his leg for what seemed an eternity. Must have been a tough section for him, because I reckon Jack Russells have about 300 leaks a day! We headed off in different directions, and managed to gather enough ‘dead finish’ (a tough prickly acacia) for a decent cooking fire. We certainly didn’t need it to sit around that night, as it was still quite hot – the contrast between being in the boats and out on the gibbers was marked. I had recently purchased some insect domes for protection from mos- quitoes and sandflies on these summer trips, and we were all impressed. When you take them out of their bag, you simply pull a toggle on the top, and they spring out ready for use. There were zippered doors on two sides, and room enough to roll out a full-size swag inside with room either side of your bag (and your dog!). There were pegs but we never

4 Desert Boating – 2007 Inland Floods used them, as the weight of the gear inside was enough to stop them blowing around in the wind. Pulling them down was just as quick and easy, unlike most tents. I normally discourage tents, as they defeat the whole purpose of being in the bush, but these were perfect for our needs. With regards to the dreaded sandfly, there is only one brew that is effective against them – and you won’t buy it in a shop. It’s a mixture of baby oil and Dettol, well known among bush people. Sandflies are a scourge on the earth. They can be barely seen, but they can reduce people to a quivering mess. On one occasion on the Gulf of Carpentaria, I had to leave a location on the coast early because of a lady’s severely infected sandfly bites. The sandflies actually urinate an acidic fluid onto the skin. They seem to strike mostly the wrists and ankles, but so long as you have your magic brew, you can operate. The next day started off okay. I had spoken to John Cobb on the satel- lite phone, and he offered to send his pilot (who was in the area) to help us find the outlet by flying over it at 8.30 am. We headed off at around 7 am around the south-western shore of the lake, with plenty of good birding to be had where the gibbers gave way to lignum. Then at 8 am a Cessna flew over us, heading north. When it was almost out of sight, it did a couple of circles before heading off. We got a bearing on the spot, and made for it. We were there in 20 minutes, and after a bit of low- water travelling, came across a reasonable-looking channel disappear- ing into the lignum. We headed up it, but soon struck shallow water. We retreated, and tried others to no avail. It was starting to look like we were going to have to spend the rest of our lives on Lake Cuttaburra! By midday we were still no further advanced. Spitta and I took a wade for half a kilometre towards some low timber that we hoped was a channel, but again we were disappointed. After lunch in the boat, we started back toward our previous camp. I would have to finish the Eyre Creek part of the trip there, at a point where we could get the Oka 4WD in. But then we noticed another change in the vegetation, and decided to give it one last shot. Spitta walked half a kilometre and held up his hat, our signal to

5 Go With the Flow proceed. With improved spirits, Joey, Martin and I pushed the boat most of the way to Spitta. He had found a fast-flowing channel six metres wide, and after ten minutes and a bit of timber cutting, we broke back out into the river. What a relief! We skimmed along in a fast current at around 13 km/h, with wall-to-wall birds. After half an hour we were back to the crossing where we started, having completed a loop of around 130 kilometres. We half pushed the punt across the bitumen causeway and headed west down the river. Ahead of the boat I saw an inland taipan in the water, the world’s most venomous snake. This one swam quickly from the side of the channel and disappeared. In less than an hour we came out onto another large lake with waves over a foot high whipped up by the wind. We headed for the outlet, marked by a lone coolibah on the north-western corner of the lake, but it took us another hour of steady travelling into the waves. I put a plastic tarpaulin around the bow of the boat, to keep out water and allow more speed. I had hoped to camp here, but there was not a patch of ground to be seen – in fact we had seen none since leaving the crossing. With only a bit over an hour of daylight left, I picked out a piece of raised stony ground on the southern side of the lake and headed for it. Fortunately, the wind had almost dropped and I could open the throttle. A couple of kilometres from the stony shore, we entered low lignum, but it was navigable. There were suddenly dozens of whiskered terns around us, and nests with eggs, so many it was hard to avoid them. We were able to get within 30 metres of shore before we grounded. Martin, Joey and I carted the gear out, while Spitta headed towards some distant coolibahs to get wood. Billycan spent what seemed like ten minutes with his leg cocked against a rock! It was a pleasant little camp that night, with plenty of bird calls from the swamp. It had been a long day. Next morning we headed back to our coolibah, and into the channel. About 50 metres in we came across a ‘mickey’ (young male cow) stranded by the flood waters. He was up against the lignum in about a metre of water. We felt for him, not being able to be of any help. Cattle that get caught like this will often feed on lignum and walk out when the water