Crocodiles crossing

To the east, Kakadu National Park is bordered by the East Alligator River. Beyond, is Arnhem Land – an aboriginal area that can only be visited with a permit. The road crosses the river into Arnhem Land at Cahill’s crossing – which I’d assumed was a ferry crossing, -, so I was somewhat surprised to see a pickup truck in mid-river as I left Manngarre forest.



When I’d arrived the tide was lower, and I’d noticed the line of rocks across the river, but hadn’t realised they marked, and protected, a ford.

I’d planned to take a look at the crossing anyway, so I headed that way, hoping that I would get the chance to see other vehicles crossing. There’s a small lookout which gives a good view of the river, and there was already a little crowd there when I arrived. The reason soon became clear, as there was a white van stationary in the middle of the river. The incoming tide was streaming over the crossing.

I’d only got my telephoto lens with me, so had to tilt it to get everything in. In the part of the river shaded by the bushes, you can just make out a crocodile:

It’s easier to see the one down-river from the crossing:

In fact there were at least three crocodiles up-river, and two down-river. There was one large croc that was circling, swimming up the fan of calmer water down-(tidal)stream (and up-river) of the stranded van, before allowing itself to be swept away in the current.

It didn’t have a can-opener with it, but crocodiles are curious animals. The occupants of the van were wisely staying firmly put, and attaching a tow line clearly wasn’t a safe proposition.

There is something compelling about needing to know the outcome of life-threatening situations. In the case of motorway pile-ups, the voyeurism is just plain grisly, but here it was clearer that the compulsion might have survival value in learning how to deal with predators. Presently, it occurred to me that it would be possible to push the van out with another vehicle, and later still a Land Cruiser edged out onto the crossing.

Once it reached the stranded vehicle, a man climbed from the bonnet onto the van’s roof and talked with the van’s occupants:

Then bonnet-man climbed back from where he’d come, and the Land Cruiser backed slowly out of the river.

I needed to head back west, so walked round to have a look at the entrance to the crossing before I left. Bonnet-man was there taking his own photos, so I had a chance to ask what was happening.

The plan was, indeed, to push the van out. However, bonnet-man said that the tidal stream was so strong that he could feel the van rocking when he was on the roof, and that pushing the van could destabilize it entirely. The park ranger (in the Land Cruiser) had said that they would try again at slack water in an hour’s time. I drove away imagining what it would feel like sitting in a rocking van in mid-stream with crocodiles on either side for two hours.

I don’t know the end of the story. When I stopped to buy petrol on my way out of the park the following day, I asked the attendant if she’d heard the local news. I figured that it would have made the news if the story hadn’t ended happily. But she hadn’t.