Adels Grove to Seven Emu Station

The main focus of our trip was to travel the Savannah Way, and concentrate on the Gulf of Carpentaria.  In particular we wanted to visit Lorella Springs, a remote property in NT which sounded fantastic.  Lots of places to swim, great camping etc.  There’s also another place nearby – Seven Emu Station.  It’s also a remote cattle property run by Frank Shadworth.  Frank’s father Willie is the first (and only) known Aborigine to purchase a pastoral lease.  In 1953 Willie paid cash for the 1665 square miles of which became known as Seven Emu Station. 

Nobody we’ve met has been to Seven Emu, but people have been raving about Lorella Springs.  Seven Emu is south of Borroloola, and Lorella is north.  With a couple of spare days up our sleeve now, we decided to go into Seven Emu and have a look for ourselves.

The dirt section of the Savannah Way from Kingfisher Camp was shocking and the road to Seven Emu was only an extra 15 kms of dirt, so not much further in the overall scheme of things.  We passed 2 graders who were smoothing out the corrugations in the road, and crossed the sparkling Robinson River before driving up a steep embankment and to the station entrance. 

The station was a collection of caravans, portable buildings and farm sheds.  We were greeted by an assortment of barking dogs, and 2 very dirty, barefooted English backpackers.  We chatted with the girls for a while until Frank drove up, jumped out of his car and introduced himself with a very firm handshake.  He looked just like the picture in the brochure so we knew we had the right bloke.  A stocky Aboriginal, black as night, wearing an enormous Akubra hat and checked shirt, typical attire for out here. 

After a bit of a chat he called over to a 3^rd girl – “Sophie! Bring over the bull catcher and take these guys to the end camp.  And don’t drive too close to the fuckin’ edge or you’ll roll off!”  “Did ya hear me?  Don’t drive too close to the edge, or we’ll lose the whole lot over the cliff”.

One of the other girls scrambled over the side of the jeep and into the passenger seat, and they took off in a cloud of dust while we followed behind for about 5 kms through a winding narrow tree lined track.  She opened all the gates, waited for us to drive through, shut the gates and ran forward and scrambled back into the jeep.  Before arriving at the ‘End camp’ the girls must have been a bit confused because they led us into another camp instead.  The caravan wheel dropped into a hole and rolled into a nearby tree causing a rather nasty ding in the van.

We eventually arrived at the ‘End camp’ miles away from anywhere and anyone.  We looked out to a stunning view where we’re perched about 50 metres up at a bend in the river.  We could see Barramundi swimming along – and from this high up they must be enormous!  The girls tell us there’s a female crocodile who has laid eggs in an island in front of us, but we can’t see her.  Frank warned us to stay right away from the edge of the river if we decide to go down.  They also told us one of the pig hunting dogs was taken by a croc a couple of days ago.  They wear a GPS tracker on their collar, and the dog disappeared in the middle of the river, so I guess there’s a crocodile out there fitted with a GPS tracker in his stomach.

The 3 girls are having the time of their lives.  They found the jobs while in Darwin, and they’re working here for 3 months, which extends their visa to stay in Australia for 2 years.  They’ve been mustering cattle in a helicopter and are racing around the property in a bull catcher. 

Now that we were here, it was time to assess any damage.  Barely any dust in the van considering the distance travelled and condition of the road, and of course the nasty ding on the van from the mishap with the tree.  Inside the cupboards was a different story:  the cans of food have rubbed together and worn away the labels and the lid from the expensive Maggie Beer olives worked itself loose.  Now there’s vinegar mixed in amongst the worn off labels and all through the drawer.  The olives were jammed in so tight they didn’t jump out which was a bonus.  The fridge was in a similar state with the lids working off a jar of garlic, and Tikka Masala Paste, and beetroot juice from a popped Tupperware lid.  My Nescafe ended up all through the cupboard (again) and any coffee able to be rescued is now dust.

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We woke in the morning enveloped in a shroud of fog, so dense it sounded like rain on the roof.  The river below was hidden from view, but when the fog lifted we watched as hundreds of huge fish made their way back out to the ocean, about 20 kms away as the tide receded.  

We decided that although Seven Emu was indeed spectacular, at $50 a night to bush camp it was too outrageously expensive.  We stopped to pay our money to Danielle, whose next destination is Sydney.  We gave her Shane’s phone number for a good time when she arrives (hope you don’t mind Shane).  You won’t need to worry about a visit to Symbio as I think she’s seen enough Aussie wildlife.  She can probably show you how to kill, skin and turn cows into steak by the time she leaves Seven Emu in a few weeks’ time.  She does all the cooking for the station hands in the camp oven, and was busy preparing corned beef and damper for lunch.  How different to living in London!

Next stop Borroloola where we can wash some clothes, make phone calls, get this blog out and see the Gulf of Carpentaria first hand in our little boat.