Kayaking the Katherine on a croc odyssey

LOCAL knowledge of crocodile sightings is important when kayaking in the Top End, but having someone to cook meals and drive you back to town is even better.

Spectacular ... the stunning Nitmiluk (Katherine) Gorge is a dramatic section of sandstone carved by the Katherine River. Picture: Tourism NT

JUST because you can't see any crocodiles, it doesn't mean they're not around. A few days kayaking down the Katherine River gives you plenty of time to watch the scenery, admire the bird life and ponder the possibility of what lurks beneath the water.

Timing is the key to a successful kayak adventure in the Northern Territory. The wet season brings an annual deluge. Rivers burst across the flood plains and roads remain under water for months.

This is far from ideal for kayaks or camping, but the dry season between April and October offers clear sunny days, dry cool nights and lots of water flowing downstream from Kakadu.

Four hours south of Darwin the Katherine River cuts its way through an ancient landscape of floodplains and gorges.

Sandy red soils give rise to open woodlands, grassy savannah and habitats for countless wildlife.

The river is the heart of the country, sustaining more than 100 bird species, an incredible number of fish and a healthy population of crocodiles.

Upstream from the town of Katherine is the Nitmiluk Gorge, a dramatic section of sandstone carved by the Katherine River.

A few miles to the other side of Katherine, the river flattens out through private and traditionally owned land.

This downstream section lends itself to overnight trips by canoe or kayak, with long stretches of flat water lined by pandanus, melaleuca and flowering gums.

Croc spotters make you feel at home

Local knowledge of crocodile sightings is important when spending a few days on the river, but having someone to cook the meals and drive you back to town is even better.

Gecko Tours, with a base at Katherine, supplied all the equipment and expertise to send us down the river and get us safely home again.

My expedition guides, Mike and Paula, have canoed this river at least once a week since the beginning of the dry season. Both of them know every bend, bank and boulder along the journey and offered detailed instructions in advance of the tricky sections.

Our group has a combination of kayaks and old-fashioned canoes; the latter may not look as fancy as the brightly coloured kayaks, but have plenty of room for the extra bits of gear that make overnight camping more comfortable. Kettles and insulated coffee mugs are a welcome sight when sitting around the campfire after dusk.

Canoes also accommodate a spare seat for anyone who isn't sure they can manage the kayaks solo. With a tour guide at the helm, you can enjoy an unimpeded view of the scenery for a minimum of paddling.

Learning the art of steering a kayak or canoe is very simple. A few basic movements are all you need to thrust yourself in one direction or the other and navigate clear of obstacles.

Whenever the river becomes narrow the pace of the water quickens dramatically and things get interesting.

Even the low grade rapids along the Katherine River can be exhilarating when you and the kayak shoot forward into the wash and waves crash over the bow. I loved every second of it.

In between the rapids are relaxing; miles of paddling and drifting and looking ahead to see if there's a suitable sand bank for the next tea break. Crocs can't hide in the sandy shallows, so it's safe to have a swim.

While I enjoyed soaking in the clear, warm water Mike and Paula would set about preparing some billy-tea with a hint of bush-lemon. Their work is never done.

But picking a campsite for the evening demands something extra. Mike keeps us on schedule to make camp by mid-afternoon.

Our first camp is in a shady cove where a side-channel spilled into the river and the endless supply of turbulent water provided something of a natural spa.

Five-star fun

As kayak trips go, this is five-star all the way. The bush is peaceful in the afternoons. The barest breeze tracks through the tree tops, the sun starts to drop low to the horizon and the bush animals head for watering holes to drink.

Retreating water from the annual floods leaves behind temporary billabongs near the river, perfect for sitting quietly and waiting for wallabies to appear.

You mustn't make a sound, as they have a knack for hearing you before you see them and with a few bounds they'll disappear into the scrub.

In the silence you can almost hear the trees breathing, but once the sun has set the only sound I hear is my hunger. There is no need to gather grubs and grains for our evening bush tucker experience, as every provision for a sumptuous dinner was stowed into the kayaks before we left Katherine.

Fortunately, in the hands of Mike and Paula even the most rudimentary piece of iron can become a tool for camp-fire cooking of the highest standard.

Star-gazing nights

The combination of cool night air and full stomachs encourages an early bedtime and from inside my swag, I enjoy a warm and unrestricted view of the night sky and its glorious detail. It is like gazing at an Aboriginal rock painting that stretches from one horizon to the other, as if each star is painted by hand to reveal part of a story.

The Milky Way stands out with vivid clarity, a river of galaxies curling across the sky.

As sleep slowly wins me over, I contemplate how the traditional landowners stayed warm at night without the help of tour guides and sleeping bags.

The next morning I find the campsite shrouded in fog and my kayak invaded by frogs. Steam is rising off the warm water of the river and the first rays of sunlight leave tracks in the air as they peek through the trees.

The mist clears of its own accord but the frogs have to be chased out one by one.

Heading downstream in the early mornings is very different to any other time of day.

The idea is to paddle in silence, with no other sound than water pushing back off the oars. This is usually the best time for spotting wildlife, the birds in particular: kites, kookaburras, cockatoos, and kingfishers.

While we're watching the birds, the crocodiles are watching us. Beady eyes poke above the surface near the river bank and then just slip away at the sign of our approach.

All the big crocs are cleared out of the river at the beginning of every dry season.

Those that remain are usually the smaller and less aggressive freshwater crocodiles.

As we continue our way downstream, I hear the sound of another set of rapids.

Then Mike calls out one more piece of local wisdom: "It's only saltwater crocodiles that like tipping over small boats and kayaks."

The writer travelled courtesy of Tourism NT.

The Sunday Telegraph