Outback 2: Hungerford via Currawinya

We had to backtrack 66 kilometres to Eulo, where I'd tried to book accommodation in the only place in a very small town, but car rally enthusiasts had beaten me to it. Had we not stayed in Cunnamulla, however, we would never have discovered Bowra.

We made a fairly early start, although not before croissants and coffee sitting on the levee overlooking the Warrego. As we left town, a fishermen's friend was hanging hopefully at a discreet distance from the 'action'.

Four kilometres west of Eulo we turned down the Hungerford Road, with its red, red dirt. The names of pastoral properties along the way are interesting. They often remind me of song lyrics or films, or I imagine they reflect the aspirations and experiences of early settlers.

There was plenty of evidence of recent rain, including bright green shoots by the track. Fifty or so kilometres down the Hungerford Road is the boundary of Currawinya National Park.

Currawinya National Park consists of large areas of sand plain and mulga scrubland – beautifully shaped mulgas, mind. There are granite outcrops, dunes, creeks, waterholes and many lakes dotted about, but the most impressive features of the Park are two large lakes in the furthest northwest corner. Although they are less than five kilometres apart, Numalla is a freshwater lake, fed by floodwaters from the Paroo River and usually permanent. Lake Wyara to the west is slightly larger but is saltwater, and often dries out, creating a white claypan.

The Park's lakes constitute a wetland of international significance. They provide breeding and refuge sites for more than 200 species of birds. Wyara attracts more waterbirds, especially small waders and plant-eaters; Numalla supports a greater variety of species, including large waders and fish-eating birds that prefer its muddy waters. Some species such as the Australian Pelican gather here in their thousands: the wetlands regularly support more than 100,000 waterbirds, and on occasion more than twice that number.

Currawinya has many significant Aboriginal sites, a woolshed and building remains and machinery on the site of the old Caiwarro homestead.

For weeks between the planning of the trip and our departure I was concerned that there might be no water in Currawinya's lakes following an extensive drought in Southwest Queensland. It never occurred to me that the opposite would be the case. The standing water by the roadside should have been a clue. The ranger confirmed that the track to the Lakes was closed following the previous week's rain, and conditions wouldn't be reassessed until days after we'd left the area. It was a bitter disappointment. I had devised the latter part of our route especially to include the Park. When I planned last year's Outback trip I didn't realise we'd be passing by a bird paradise: this time, we knew all too well, and were tantalisingly close, but thwarted, once again, by unseasonal rain in a region that badly needs it, so no complaints. The ranger reported there'd been about 50 ml of steady rain rather than a heavy downpour, so I suspected the road closure was a protective measure rather than because of flooding or erosion. But what do I know?

He tried to make us feel better by suggesting we walk in The Granites (along a different track) where we would see birds, he said. We didn't. There were great views, and I like a granite landscape, but it was no substitute for big lakes overflowing with birds.

There was a Granites circuit to follow, but it was too short, so we went off piste and climbed to get a better view. There were goat scats everywhere, but the only ones we spotted were a long way away. Are there that many ferals in the National Park?

On the way back to the Hungerford Road we espied some water through trees. This small waterhole had more wildlife than we'd seen at The Granites. Birds were flitting (female and male White-browed Woodswallows, below) and frogs were croaking but hiding as usual.

I was reminded of the Lakes we hadn't seen, and there was faintly annoying evidence of a vehicle having recently been down the track.

I'd asked the ranger how the bilbies were doing in their 25-square-kilometre predator-proof enclosure within Currawinya. We learned about this in Charleville last year. I knew its location is kept secret, and was not expecting to go there, but I was hoping for a slightly less vague report about their welfare. In the pub later that day I received disquieting news from the locals, that feral cats can easily scale the fence, and that the bilbies are not thriving at all. Since I've been back I called the Save the Bilby Fund (http://www.savethebilbyfund.com) and chatted to CEO Kevin Bradley to get the lowdown.

The bilbies' enclosure was opened in 2001 and supplied with animals from Charleville's breeding programme. Within ten years the fence had been compromised by corrosion following floods, which coincided with a feral cat explosion. Bilby numbers plummeted. Kevin is confident there are still some there, and he will hopefully know for sure within weeks, when a survey is carried out in late October. I will report back. The efforts of protectors of this endangered desert-dweller exemplify serious problems faced by conservationists across Australia. There is a wide-ranging debate to be had.

Hungerford has few inhabitants these days and most of them are not young. The town grew from a customs post on the Queensland-New South Wales border: it was also on a stock route by the Paroo River. Unbelievably, the first hotel survives from 1874: unsurprisingly, the Royal Mail Hotel is also the post office. The accommodation was primitive – don't expect an ensuite – but the photo ops more than compensated for my reluctance to shower. We ate in the bar, where three locals gather at around about five o'clock most days, for an hour or so before turning in. We continued chatting to Graham, our host, for a while longer. 

And then we walked through the border gate and into New South Wales to get away from lights in order to view a magnificent sky. I learned only yesterday that the Australian Outback sky presents the most stars you will see anywhere in the world. This is a combination of more stars being visible from the southern hemisphere and a relative lack of light or pollution. I guess I take for granted now the fact that, on a clear night and away from coastal civilisation, the Milky Way is so dense you can't make out individual components. It's as if a thick band of white cloud lay across the sky. I also learned (from Dr Karl on the ABC) that this is the place to see clearly the sun rise above and set below the horizon line without interference from atmospheric haze, smog or cloud. 

We turned in early so as to make a prompt start the next day. The toilet was some way off our room, and I had no intention of having a wander in the middle of the night. Mind over matter. Contrary to all our expectations, I slept like a log until first light.

ROUTE

Act II, Scene 2…in which Palmer springs his ambush

This is just a quickie. My head is still in the Outback, and I'm finding it hard to pick up pre-trip environmental and other threads. I apologise in advance for the number of links in this piece: these will provide concise detail quicker than I have time to elaborate upon; and in more elegant sentences. I am leaving for a weekend on Straddie in less than four hours.

So… Clive Palmer finally has his opportunity to exact revenge on a state government that wouldn't grant him favours in the race to eviscerate the Galilee Basin in Central Queensland. One of the LNP's biggest donors was dumped from the Party amid an acrimonious exchange of accusations between Palmer and Deputy Premier Jeff Seeney, Minister of Mines and Monstrousness.

In March there will be a Senate Commission of Enquiry into the workings of the Queensland State Government. This remarkable turn-of-events – which had failed to eventuate, as the Aussies say, from a previous attempt just a week beforehand – came to pass in the Federal Senate after the Greens and Labor and Palmer's pups finally got their act together after a whole lot of wheeler-dealing. There is good to come out of chaos, however.
http://www.edoqld.org.au/news/state-laws-inadequate-for-federal-handover/
Here's another, rather more cynical take on it all.
https://newmatilda.com/2014/10/01/careful-what-you-wish-clive
And a reasoned summary from a legal mind.
http://theconversation.com/greens-palmer-deal-a-roadblock-for-environmental-one-stop-shop-32381

When Queensland separated from New South Wales in 1859, it was the only colony to have a Parliament from the outset. It had two governmental chambers, the Legislative Assembly and the Legislative Council. There was little enthusiasm for the upper house, which was seen as 'positively obstructive and an obstacle to public business'. There were calls for its abolition right from the start. Labor finally brought that about in 1922. In the next few years, conservative members of the lower house called for its reinstatement, but the Depression suppressed any real energy for the task. Since when there have been faltering moves and motions, to no effect. Read more at https://www.parliament.qld.gov.au/documents/explore/education/factsheets/papers/paper01_abolitionOfTheUpperHouse.pdf

Unusually for Australia, Queensland has a first-past-the-post electoral system. In the last state election in 2012, the Liberal-National Party Coalition got a far greater proportion of seats than reflected its popular vote. In effect, there has been no Opposition to Campbell Newman's government by virtue of numbers. Labor's role has been a charade. Queensland needs a political reform double whammy – preferential voting and a second chamber. But I suspect they love their different ways and will cling to them. In 1859, it was probably all about not doing things the same as New South Wales.

Many Queenslanders feel that the democratic process has been severely compromised in the last two and a half years by Newman's numbers and his government's close relationship with big business, mining especially; that certain sections of the judiciary have moved perilously too close to law enforcement; that the health and safety of the environment have been cynically down-graded; and that battlers have been sacrificed to far bigger interests.

If you believe that there is nothing rotten in the state of Queensland, then perhaps you should listen to this item from Steve Austin's Mornings programme on Thursday.
http://blogs.abc.net.au/queensland/2014/10/anti-csg-campaigner-says-shes-being-targeted.html?site=brisbane&program=612_morning

And if you are in any doubt that, whatever happens at the Enquiry, a huge amount of anger and ill-feeling will be generated by it, then I wish you could have heard one of Austin's regular Friday features this morning, when normally good-humoured, respectful and entertaining old-hand political debaters turned horribly serious and very-nearly nasty when talking about the Commission. They muttered about 'getsquare enquiries'; and the lefter-leaning of the two derided the outrage of conservative parties who have themselves done to others what is about to happen to them. Unfortunately, there's no link to this on the ABC's website.

I must admit to being surprised at the PUP senators' achievement. And the lack of precise detail about the nature of the allegations. I think if I were a right-leaning Queenslander, I would be appalled at such Federal intervention in matters of State. I suspect all parties know that deep down there's muck to be raked, and that both major parties are bound to suffer as a result. For that reason, a part of me doubts the Enquiry will ever come to fruition.

That kind of muck would never have been uncovered by investigative mainstream media, would it? For this reason, I hope the Commission materialises and does what it must. Am I certain of a strong, unbiased Commission even? Not a bit of it.
This post was written on 3 October 2014

Outback 2: Major Mitchell's mission

The Australian Wildlife Conservancy is a not-for-profit organisation dedicated to the effective conservation of Australian wildlife and its habitats. It owns or manages more parcels of land – scattered right across the Australian continent – than any other non-governmental conservation organisation; more than 30,000 square kilometres, in 23 sanctuaries (see http://www.australianwildlife.org).

Bowra Sanctuary west of Cunnamulla in Southwest Queensland was acquired by the AWC in 2010 and covers more than 140 square kilometres. This is the Mulga Lands bioregion. Bowra encompasses 15 ecosystems including acacia (mulga) shrubland, grasslands, Coolibah woodlands and Red River and Poplar gum stands. Bowra boasts more than 200 species of bird, 27 mammals, 63 reptiles, 19 frogs and 12 threatened species, 9 of them birds. Birds Queensland volunteers maintain and operate camping facilities and accommodation for visitors, as well as conducting bird and other surveys, controlling ferals, weed and fire management, and other scientific research.

We had asked locally where we could find birds. I'd read about the Cunnamulla Bushlands, a walking track through six regional ecosystems, but was told it's never been quite finished. We were running out of time on our mission to find some Major Mitchell's Cockatoos. On last year's Outback trip there was a single sighting: I spotted one on top of a tree at the side of the road as my friend was driving the last leg of the first day to Charleville. Technically that wasn't good enough, according to our rather strict rules about how a bird is officially clocked. This bird is so striking with its brilliant crest, however, it couldn't have been anything else. None had yet appeared on this trip and we were already three-quarters of the way through the itinerary. Bowra was the answer.

Cunnamulla is on the Warrego River, about 200 kilometres south of Charleville and 800 west of Brisbane. It grew up in the mid-1800s at the junction of two stock routes by a reliable waterhole, and became a staging post for Cobb & Co. Today it lists wool, pig and kangaroo hunting and hospitality among its main industries. The town has experienced serious flooding, most recently in 2010 and 2012, and is protected by an 11-metre-high levee.

Although it is wonderfully exhilarating to get up and get on the road every morning, a day's respite here and there on a road trip makes a lot of sense. After breakfast, we walked around town in warm sunshine; had a coffee sitting outside a cafe watching Cunnamulla's world go by; and popped into the opal shop and the tourist information centre. As always, signs and names and colours caught my eye.

Is there a connection between photography and helium balloons?

Is this the longest acronym in Queensland?

If you visit this town, you must go and see the Cunnamulla Fella. Actually, you can't miss him: it's a huge statue. This was the title of a song, written in the 1950s by Stan Coster and sung by Slim Dusty, both of whom are/were well-known country music singer-songwriters here. [Country music is very popular in Australia and, to my unaccustomed ears, is largely indistinguishable from its American stablemate: just replace Albuqueque with The Kimberleys. However, I do confess to Luck* by Busby Marou being on my 'running' playlist.] In the '50s and '60s, wool and cattle were big business in this part of the world, and the towns boomed as young men came to work on sheep and cattle stations. At the end of long hard days they would squat around the campfire regaling each other with stories. The Cunnamulla council decided to pay tribute to these iconic Australian characters and celebrate the town's notoriety in the song. ExplorOz.com says of the statue: 'the Cunnamulla Fella is the larrikin in all Australians'. 

We arrived at Bowra not really knowing whether we could just walk in and start looking for birds. We weren't booked in. As it turned out, the two volunteers manning the office that week, George and Karen, were friends of a keen birder I know in Brisbane. Armed with bird checklist and a rough map of 'survey routes', we set out for three possible Major Mitchell's hotspots. Following the recent rain, George warned us, some tracks might be impassable and creek crossings deep. First up was Saw Pits Waterhole, where we saw Diamond Doves, budgies, swallows, Willy Wagtails, ducks, a White-necked Heron, Zebra Finches, a Pied Cormorant and more Emu chicks. But no Major Mitchell's. 

We had a couple of attempts at getting to Gumholes, another waterhole on the other side of the property. The first route was boggier than we realised and we had to turn back and find another way. Once there, we saw a few birds flitting about, but no Major Mitchell's. Good reflections though.

So the lagoon back at the homestead, where four cockatoos had been reported that morning, was our last hope. We started to walk around the lagoon. Campers were setting up, and serious birders with cameras and tripods and long, long lenses were preparing to shoot any birds congregating, as they do, close to water and prior to roosting. I chatted to a Yorkshireman who'd lived in Australia for 40 years, but whose accent was unmistakable. He'd travelled around this continent several times and as a result must have accumulated bird picture libraries. He counted those he'd deleted in the tens of thousands. I had no wish whatsoever to return to Brisbane at that point. With my travel planning experience so far, I could easily have readjusted the route so we headed south from Hungerford, our next port of call, and not back east. Wanaaring… Wilcannia… Broken Hill… the Flinders Ranges…

I suddenly heard what I instinctively knew was the call of a 'cockie': that unmistakable squawk. I looked up to see two Major Mitchell's land in a tree by the lagoon. Two more arrived. We quickly walked round the little lake to get a better view: I was barely able to focus the camera, but I wasn't the only one who was excited. Mission accomplished. 

There are few differences between males and females, by the way, except the male is slightly larger. The bird is also known as the Leadbeater's, Desert or Pink Cockatoo. Its pink is more salmony, less blue, than the Galah's.

Thomas Mitchell was Surveyor General of New South Wales where most of his explorations were based. In 1845-46, however, he came up to Queensland. Having realised that Leichhardt had gone before him in the east, Mitchell went west. His discoveries included the Warrego and a river he named the Victoria but later became the Barcoo, and the grass that bears his name. I have no idea where he first came across these remarkable birds, but he described them thus:

Few birds more enliven the monotonous hues of the Australian forest than this beautiful species whose pink-coloured wings and flowing crest might have embellished the air of a more voluptuous region.

I couldn't agree with him more. Whatever happened to all those forests?
* https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=jpvieZ032tc
This post was last edited on 3 October 2014