Red Lily Lagoon. 3/08/2002

Red Lily Lagoon. 3/08/2002

Red Lily Lagoon was down a very long, very rough track in Kakadu National Park. We got there with an hour’s light to spare

It should have been bush camping at its best. With no-one else around, we picked our spot by the lagoon on the basis of shade, and I parked the camper trailer between two trees about 20 feet from the bank. I opened the tent while Jan scanned the opposite bank for birds.

She’d examined about halfway along and suddenly Jan was thrusting the binoculars at me. “Rog, take a look over there” she was very agitated “I’ve seen the most enormous croc. He must be thirty feet at least.”

I didn’t see him at first; he lay so still on the mud. He was huge, wide as a truck, high as a sports car and long. Not thirty feet, but close.  His body was lined up in our direction. If he’d been athletic he could have landed on our laps with three somersaults. The shock was physical; there was an adrenalin flash flood in my veins.

Suddenly shade didn’t seem so important and distance from the water’s edge did.  We folded the camper trailer roughly and shifted, trailing the tent skirts in the dirt in our haste. We put 100 feet and a fireplace between us and the water.

Night fell quickly. It was pitch black. We lit the fire and made it big. Its light obscured our view of the dark lagoon beyond. I still didn’t feel safe; Crocodiles stalk their prey. So I used the torch beam to sweep the area while we were outside cooking.  Nothing there except the glittering eyes of hundreds of trapdoor spiders. Beyond the fireplace was a path to the water. I walked some of the way down it shining the torch onto the water. Sure enough, there was a pair of red crocodile eyes reflecting back. He was positioned just where I would have gone to fill a bucket.

All that our monster had to do was walk out of the water.  Enjoying a tense beer at the table I said to Jan “What would you do if he snuck up on us in that black area behind your seat?” and she said “For heaven’s sake stop obsessing about crocs Rog.”

She returned to her own obsession.  “I wish that White-throated Gerygone would show itself. I’ve been hearing it for weeks.”

I shone the torch behind her and there he was, our monster quietly going about the business of inviting himself to dinner.  I froze in horror, but managed to tap Jan on the shoulder and point. She leapt to her feet and ran to the tent door. This caused the croc to lunge for her, his trajectory taking him right past me still sitting. As his head came level with me I threw the croc blanket over his head. This stopped him dead in his tracks. He started shaking his head violently, tipping my chair. Shit! It was only a matter of time before he got rid of the blanket and saw me. “Jan!” I shouted “Throw me the insect repellent.”  As I caught it, the croc shook free. I fished in my pocket for the cigarette lighter and as his jaws opened to snap me up I sprayed him with a great jet of flame from the insecticide pressure can. That sent him back into the billabong quick smart.  Thank goodness for fire.

It had been a bit of a shock so we made a cup of tea. As we settled down to drink it Jan said “Rog is that a Barking Owl calling?”

 Well actually none of the heroics happened, except in my head. The croc stayed in the lagoon waiting for someone or something else. We did hear the Barking Owl, and my obsessive torching showed up a brush tailed rabbit rat: which the ranger back at base got excited about because it was thought to be nearly extinct in Kakadu.

Roger Wooller