Saturday 7 September
For Freddy, from whom I first learned about Lawn Hill.
We drove up from Adel’s Gorge to Boodjamulla / Lawn Hill National Park soon after breakfast.
The morning canoe paddle began on a placid waterway. The fish were jumping and darters were drying their wings before their next piscine onslaught. Schools of Archer Fish and Sooty Grunters swam beneath us, and cuckoos flew above. It was early enough in the morning for the breeze to be cool and for some shade to be cast by the cliff faces.
The trip up the Middle Gorge requires a 2 minute canoe drag to the Upper Gorge. Not a mean feat given we had a three-man canoe and only one man was pulling it.
As I was getting back into the canoe, the distance between the vessel and the small jetty rapidly increased. Let’s just say it was at a pace that beat my reflexes.
From the water, I reverted to my go-to curse word (an ungracious but hugely satisfying response under the circumstances) as Himself kept his cool, reminding me that my camera case had joined me in the drink.
Me: “*!#*! !#*!”
Himself: “Camera! Camera!”
Any shin grazes and bruises aside, the camera and lenses survived. The second leg was happily uneventful.