We’re saved again, for one day, as reader Rodney Graetz from Canberra has sent in some lovely photos from a remote corner of Australia. Rodney’s captions are indented, and you can enlarge his photos by clicking on them. The three borrowed images are, I’m told, in the public domain.

Here is a series of landscape photos from a tourist boat journey along the Kimberley coastline from Darwin (Northern Territory) to Broome (Western Australia).  The distance, as the crow flies, was 1110 km (690 mi) but by hugging the coastline, the unrecorded distance was likely doubled.  We made land visits on 10 of the 12-day journey:

Our starting point, the Darwin coastline, is lapped by the Timor Sea.  It is shallow and muddy, in contrast to our Broome destination.  Like Broome, Darwin was targeted and bombed by the Japanese in February 1942.  Today, among the lush Darwin city coastline gardens, is a simple memorial honouring the 91 crew of the USS Peary, the United States Navy’s greatest loss in Australian waters.

Departing Darwin, we slowly merged with the mighty Indian Ocean whose colour and cloud streets suggested warmth, productivity and excitement.  We travelled in early June, too early to encounter the estimated 40,000 Humpback Whales travelling up from the Antarctic (June – November) to calve, nurse and then mate in these warm and safe waters  Next time!

At last, an edge of the NW corner of the Australian continent, revealing a flat and layered landscape.  The cliffs are massive, and the rock type is obviously hard because there is little sandy beach.

The Edge close up, and as predicted.  Note the tiny figures in the lower left corner.  The massive rocks are a hard Paleoproterozoic sandstone aged 1-1.9 billion years.  They are ever varied and spectacular:

Being drone-deficient, I’ve borrowed this image to illustrate this monsoonal landscape functioning.  During ‘The Wet’ (Nov–Mar), sufficient rainfall accumulates on the background plateau for a flow to eventually reach the edge and fall as spectacular waterfalls early in ‘The Dry’ ( Mar-Nov).

Downstream from the waterfalls, slow moving water combined with the incursion of plants, result in species-rich landscapes, such as this small idyllic wetland:

‘Salties’, aka Saltwater crocodile, were common neighbours at our landings.  Maneaters?  Yes, but only of the deserving at a rate of fewer than one person per year.  The ‘gaping’ is not a threat display but thermoregulation, of cooling.  Looking past the teeth, they are handsomely ornamented and coloured animals.  In the water, they are sleek!:

For geographic and celestial reasons, the tidal ranges along this coast are among the highest globally (± 10 metres).  A consequence of this, and a rocky, indented coastline, is the creation of Horizontal Waterfalls, where six times a day, huge volumes of water are forced through constricting narrows, as shown here.  Spectacular and hazardous:

The edge of a vast inshore reef (400 km², 154 sq mi) rapidly shedding water as the tide drops about 10 metres.  It is a visual and turbulent spectacle – the reef appears to rise up – and shed streams of water containing stranded fish eagerly sought by waiting birds, fish and sharks.  This one image could not capture the turbulence and action.  Details are here and an overview here:

Contemplative natural beauty of the coast was commonplace, such as here, Raft Point.  With the Dawn behind us, the red rocks and lush vegetation (including iconic Boab trees) are in contrast with the ocean, and on its horizon, small red rocky islands urge a visit:

Nearby Steep Island is another view that repays contemplation.  Why is it so?:

Journey’s end and Broome colouring contrasts with that of the previous days.  Here the rock and sands are red with an aquamarine ocean.  Tidal variation remains high.  The biological focal point is the adjacent Roebuck Bay, the background in this image:

To avoid lethal winters, some 100, 000 migratory birds fly from the Pacific low latitude coastal areas of China etc. to Australia along the East Asian-Australasian Flyway.  Roebuck Bay, a primary destination, is nationally protected as one RAMSAR wetland.  Bird lovers closely watch their comings and goings:

Finally, in the 1940s, both Darwin and Broome experienced the destructive impacts of war.  Now, in both locations, the stark remnants of those impacts remain submerged, slowly disappearing, accelerated by the living world.  That is a good thing: