Silver Gull Creek (The Kimberley)

[Kyle]Mostly on the advice of Brad and Rae from Ulysses Blue, we decided to make Silver Gull Creek our next stop. The big draw here is an encampment that was abandoned a few years ago. It was occupied (squatted according to one report) for several years by a cruising couple (the same ones who spent the wet season in Sampson Inlet) who seemed to have been setting it up as a resort. For a long time, sailors would rave about the warm welcome they always received when visiting. It also has some rare luxuries like showers and a tank used as a pool. Now, the site is slowly falling into dereliction, although it’s clear that a few regular visitors have been doing some maintenance.

The journey via Koonan Island and the narrow 'Canal' between the island and the mainland through to Yampi Sound. (with only a little bit of a mine to hinder the views).

In Silver Gull Creek, the camp is only accessible for larger boats at the top two-thirds of the tide. That was long gone by the time we arrived at the outer anchorage, where we found a veritable crowd (as in three other boats). We were nearest to Magnus and Wendy on Nutshell, their beautiful Ketch. They seemed very nice as we chatted to them over the rails about how much scope they had out and where they recommended we anchor. They told us they would meet us at the camp tomorrow and we would talk more then.

From anchor just outside Silver Gull Creek

The next day, we were the first to head up the creek. With the flood helping us, we meandered along, poking into every cove and tributary we could find. By the time we got to the camp, a tinny with a family of four had beaten us to it. Magnus was also there, already filling water jugs from a hose dangling from a rusty careening stand. We decided to give them all some time to themselves and proceeded up the river to the end on Magnus’ recommendation to see more of the rocky gorge. Unlike the rivers to the east, the sediment layers here are all steeply canted, which makes for some really rugged terrain. Travelling by boat would be the only way to go any distance in this country.

We arrived back at the camp just as the tinny family were packing up. While Maryanne filled buckets at the hose for some frontier-style laundering, I headed up to the camp for a soak. The very best thing here is an old water tank that is converted to a covered pool, complete with a window cut out at just the right height to make an infinity-pool style drain, where you can sit in the shade on plastic chairs and enjoy a beverage of your choice. The best part is that the tank and the hose below at the careening stand are fed from an artesian spring that dispenses beautiful, crystal-clear water. The tank inlet is run overland through black pipe, which heats the water before discharging it as a waterfall into the top of the tank.

Once I had oriented myself and found a dry place to put our stuff, I arrived dripping at the dinghy. Maryanne had just paddled over from the hose and was just starting the laundry. She thought I had come to help.

I had not. I came to take over while she checked out the tank. When I was done with the agitate and rinse cycles, I went back up to join her and relax a bit with my own beverage. We both thought that since there were so many boats in the anchorage, and since it was almost high tide, that the hot tub would be full, but it turned out to be just us.

Relaxing in the 'infinity pool' felt quite the luxury

As we were getting ready to return to Begonia to hang up our clean laundry, Nutshell arrived at the hose to fill their tank. The tide wasn’t quite high enough yet for them to tie up to the careening poles, so they invited us aboard for tea. We had just made it past introductions by the time the water was deep enough for them. Magnus had said that he was interested in Athenas, but Wendy had never seen one, so we invited them over for a tour later and left them to our task.

Once our laundry was flapping in the afternoon breeze, they came over to have a look. Without the pressure of worrying about the tide, we were able to have a better conversation. Since they have spent more time cruising the Kimberley than we have, we asked them about the thing that had really been weighing on our minds, resupplying in Broome.

Broome is supposed to be a favorite for tourists. It also has a reputation for being a huge hassle for boaters trying to provision. The fuel pier there is sharp and rusty, is intended for bigger ships and they apparently do not like little boats turning up asking for bathtub-toy sized quantities. The tides are big at the beach, which makes for either a long dinghy ride to shore or a short dinghy ride to the end of a long, muddy walk to the high tide line. Then it is still necessary to get a ride into town for whatever food, fuel or water you may need.

When we asked Wendy and Magnus about all of this, they effectively convinced us to do as little boating stuff as possible in Broome so that we could concentrate on the more fun tourist stuff. To that end, they convinced us we would have a much more pleasant time filling our water from the hose at the camp in Silver Gull Creek than we would schlepping water jugs back and forth to the beach in Broome before the falling tide strands us in the mud. Plus, they said, Silver Gull’s spring water tastes way better than Broome’s tap water. Good point. We decided to shift one of our Broome days and stay in Silver Gull tomorrow to fill up.

Getting water is an interesting challenge given the tides (the frame is submerged at very high tides); luckily we could drive Begonia right up to it at higher tides. Notice the high tide marks on the rocks high above the group gathering oysters at low-ish tide as a reference

Since we draw less than Nutshell, we were able to tie up to the careening stand earlier than Nutshell did. Arriving with us were two men from the barge in adjacent Dogleg Creek. They sell fuel there at a special remote locations markup, but after our conversation with Magnus and Wendy, they convinced us it was a bargain compared to the hassle of taking fuel jugs into town in Broome. The guys were filling their water cooler jugs there and they said we would be welcome anytime at the barge (We had read that you need to pre-arrange well in advance). Once they had their water and left, we gave Begonia’s decks a good rinse of all of the accumulated salt buildup from the last couple of months. Then we filled our tanks, plus all of our jugs and buckets. By the time we were on our last one, the tide was just coming to the highest of the spring tides for the month. The rusty careening stand was now getting so close to the water that our fenders were floating off. The wind was pushing us onto the stand and it was looking like a boathook wasn’t going to be enough to fend us off. I had to start the engines and work the gears to keep us away from the metal, but close enough to use the hose. Those last few minutes were a real nail-biter.

Once we had the water, we motored the short distance to Dogleg Creek, the next bay over, for some fuel. The guys from the water hose were there. They welcomed us warmly, treating us like we were already old friends.

The fuel they barge in each season is mostly for commercial fishing and the powerboat crowd, although they do sell quite a bit to Darwin-based sailboats who buy their return fuel at Dogleg rather than go the extra hundred miles to Broome. We normally carry two spare jerrycans in our cockpit locker next to our fuel tank. For the Kimberley, we had lashed three more on deck, knowing we would be motoring a lot. We now had four empties, two of which we needed filled to allow us to leave Broome as if we had topped up normally there. Relatively speaking, when I produced the two jerrycans for filling, they might as well have been Zippo lighters. I may have even heard a little chuckle.

About halfway through the last jug, Maryanne returned from the cabin saying that we didn’t have as much cash as we had thought (what’s cash?) and we needed to stop pumping. We had stopped in time, but Maryanne had previously prefaced her search for bills by saying that we wanted to make sure we had enough left over for a couple of ice creams, which we might not have done now. When I went in to pay the bill, I handed over our wad of cash. The guy counted it, peeled off a fiver and handed it back to me along with two ice cream bars. I never saw their price sheet for the ice cream bars, but I have a feeling he rounded way down on those. Unless, of course, their business model is to entice people in with super-cheap ice cream and then make it back on the hundreds of liters of fuel they sell when people realize they also need that, too.

A diversion to Dog Leg Creek to get some fuel (pricey but easy)

When we mentioned that we wanted to anchor in Dogleg Creek, rather than go back to the more picturesque Silver Gull so that we could make a quicker getaway in the morning, they offered us the use of one of their three empty barge moorings. We tried tying up to what looked like the best one, but it was high and rusty and there was no way to tie up to it without risking some kind of damage, so we left and anchored near the mouth of the creek. Then, just as Maryanne was starting to prepare dinner, the guys showed up in a skiff. They were on their way to the pub at Cockatoo Island, but they had brought us a Red Snapper they had just caught (and gutted, boned and filleted). What timing! That should bulk up our meal nicely. Thanks, guys!