By Deb Sorensen
Kakadu National Park — "Along the Stuart Highway, left onto the Arnhem Highway, past the Humpty Doo turn-off and the Hard Croc Cafe. When you reach the Wildman River, you'll know you're almost there."
And so I set off in the still dark Monday morning to start my new job. There were whole stretches of road where I had to drive with one hand on the horn to scare off the kites. There were flocks of them feeding on the lizards and insects seeking refuge from the burning scrub.
This time of year — the dry — pastoralists and park rangers burn off the dry grasses to avoid bigger fires that can get out of control. The Aboriginal people of the region have been burning the scrub for thousands of years, so it is not a recent practice. Where it now serves to control bush fires, it was once a food getting technique. The controlled fired drove wildlife out of the scrub and also ensured a fresh crop of new grass to attract grazing animals.
As I rounded one bend, a water buffalo meandered across the road. Loose buffalo are a fairly rare sight these days, apparently. Most of them have either been eradicated or captured for domestication as part of a program to control introduced species. Of all these animals — including feral pigs and horses — the buffalo are the most destructive to the environment.
The wetlands of the Alligator River systems — now mainly within the boundaries of Kakadu National Park — were severely damaged by the buffalo. Because of their size and hard hooves, the buffalo forged unnatural channels which mixed salt and fresh water into the wetlands habitat — threatening the survival of the myriad of native flora and fauna.
Beginning in 1979, the program has removed most of the buffalo from Kakadu. There must, however, be a few strays in the vicinity.
I have been in the Territory for three days, and have apparently stuck out like a sore thumb. "From down south", the locals cluck to each other. I walk too fast, talk too fast and visibly perspire (and almost expire) in the heat.
"How do you think you'll cope?", they ask with a mixture of sympathy and scepticism. "At least you got here when it's nice and cool", the locals say. You call 32 degrees cool?, I silently shriek. "Yes it's lovely", I pant.
The environment, though, is spectacular. Marshy wetlands, steamy jungle rainforests, magnificent cascading waterfalls, huge rocky outcrops and scrubby bushland are all here.
Inside the boundaries of Kakadu itself is the entire South Alligator River system, from its vast source north-east of Katherine Gorge to its mouth leading into the Van Diemen Gulf. It is unique in this respect. However, research has shown that reserved areas probably need to be at least this size, because the survival of each species is dependent on the well-being of the entire ecosystem to which it belongs.
As I cross the West Branch of the Wildman River, then the East Branch (not to be confused with the Balmain Branch of the Wildmen) I have entered the park. A few more minutes and, after a two-hour drive through this spectacular country, I have arrived at work. For the next six months I'll be here, at the Northern Entry Station of Kakadu National Park, sending regular anecdotes to Green Left.