The Stonies Adventure

We were going for a day trip to Stones Crossing..... The operable word: were.....

I'd packed an esky with beers, a couple of sangas and a packet of shapes.  I'd dropped hubby off at the airport for his 6 week stint at TAFE in Cairns and we were off to throw lures out off the Stonies Road with a couple of mates.  Road was easy enough - slow and steady but rough as guts.  We spotted a couple of emus on the road and two pigs, much to the delight of the kids squealing in the back but they lived for another day.  My favourite part of the day is the smell of the bush early morning when the dirt is still moist and earthy and the sun begins to beat down drying up the spiderwebs and puddles of dew.

It's about a 2hr drive to our 'Secret Spot' but with cranked tunes and 2-way radio banter between us, the trip went quickly and before long we were cruising along the bank of the mighty river.  Just by looking at the crossing you know there'd be some ancient Salties lying on the bottom in wait.  We'd have to find a spot where it was clear enough and we could see what was coming before we got in.  I got Xavie's and my rod off and we started flicking soft plastics in the creek around the rocky outcrops.  Mak forgot to pack hers.  It wasn't long before we'd both hooked up on some nice Sooty's and a Toga.  We played with a baby bull shark for awhile but then nothing.  Lesson no 1 for this trip:  Don't throw fish back in the same spot as you're fishing because they talk to everyone else in the creek and you won't catch anything else.....

After several hours of wallowing in the creek, swinging off the rope chandelier, drinking cold beers and working our way through the esky it was time to head home.  Some of our mates were staying the night and the others were driving home.

Neither of my kids ever want to go home so we put it to a vote.  Posed with the idea of staying overnight with no bed, no food, no drinks and no clothes to change into OR go home.  It was unanimous. We were staying!

That afternoon I thought I'd set a line up between one side of the creek and the other and hang some lures off it throughout the night. We'd done it a thousand times and have had much success with barra, sooties and other weird nighttime adrenaline rushes.  I got the rope out of my ute and, with Xavie in toe, we made our way down to the creek bed. It was really dark and deep at the bottom of our spot. Very crocy.  There was a fallen tree that I thought I could balance my way across till about three quarters of the river then, with a giant jump, I thought I could make it over enough to scramble out in time before being eaten. Then, the plan was to tie the end onto the other side and dangle off the lures. Simple enough.....

Needless to say after a day of sitting in the creek drinking beers, my planning, physical ability and problem solving skills were inadequate.  Oh, I made it to the other side ok; not for a little panicked scramble out of the muddy depths which were far deeper than I'd anticipated but I was safe.

Rookie Error 1:  Whilst I was putting all my brain-power to the test of getting across the crocodile lake, I'd forgotten the rope....
Rookie Error 2: Xavier is 5 and can not throw a large coil of rope even remotely strong enough to make the distance.
Rookie Error 3:  I had no idea how I was going to get back over to the right side of the creek again. I was stuck and the sun was going down far too quickly.

So....I walked about 300m up the creek in each direction and nothing - no crossing - no shallow bits - no trees - no way to cross.  By the time I realised I had to get into the water, it was almost dark. I'm an idiot!  I picked the closest tree and ran into the creek as fast as I could, leaping as high as I could until I reached a tree and monkey-styled my way across holding my legs out of the water as much as I could. Clearly, I'm not a gymnast nor am I a feather-weight so it must have a looked ridiculous but I swear to God I moved faster than I've ever moved before and scrambled out of the black water like lightening.  By the time I'd made it over I was wet, cold, full of frustration/anger/adrenaline/fear and was barely lucid.  I also decided we didn't need a rope fishing trap on this trip any more....

We set up our fire and our mates shared their dinner and red wine with us.  We lay on their tarp on the ground with their dogs as our blankets and, after our adventurous day, the kids were asleep in under a minute.  I tried calling hubby on the Sat phone to tell him we were staying but couldn't get through. Lucky we didn't have an emergency eh!   We all turned in late and it was freezing cold as we were still wet so I wrapped myself up with my children and the dogs who were surprisingly wonderful pillows.

It was about 4am when the mob of pigs came down on top of us as we'd camped on one of their runs to the water.  When they realised our fire and our dogs smelled them, it was on like Donkey Kong.  I hollered back for my pillow pooches to return as the pigs went down towards the water at the bottom of our campsite.  Within minutes there was a huge splash in the water and then all the pigs left.  The splash was way too big for a barra and the fact that it was at the bottom of our camp where I'd done my dash-for-life earlier was too much for me to think about. I didn't want to think about how big it was that took whatever it took.  It is a mystery that I still won't acknowledge thanks.

In the morning, we woke up and had some breaky. We flicked a few more lures into the dark water and caught a couple of nice size Barra before heading back home.

Note to self:  Think the entry and exit plan through before jumping........