Nourlangie Camp Safari, Episode 22
Tuesday 4th March 1969
It is a tired but happy Flemming who writes in his diary at the moment. After a week of hunting we managed to get a buff. The entire hunt took place in pouring rain. This was only to my advantage. On the edge of my ‘old’ hunting ground about two kilometres from the car I spotted him. He was a good distance from me. I approached cautiously and then I would not take any risks with regard to it finding us so I decided to shoot it from the distance. There had to be seven shots before this young buff had to go down with the neck.
When I came back to the car with the sack of meat on my back I decided to return and get some more meat. It's something else going on when you have about thirty kilos of meat on ones back (I weighed the bag when I got home) and approximately two km through the marsh and swamp. Now, we have meat for a while and I can think of nothing more than to go hunting. Incidentally I have only twelve cartridges back and it's only the ‘soft’ ones. I had the pleasure to drive over a large swamp tiger on the way home. This does not mean I am sadistic but the fear of this snake is justified especially since I mostly go without footwear. The sun shined a little this afternoon but otherwise the ‘autumn’ weather continued with rain and wind.
Wednesday
Again a rainy day. It all seemed sad. I would not say that I'm really bored because there is really a little to do but it all seemed so repetitive. The uncertainty annoys me. You get crazy thoughts about everything.
Sometimes I really want to go home though despite the fact that there is still so much I want to see. It is a fact that I am not able to send letters to the folks at home to tell them that I am fine. They maybe think the worst. They might at least think that natives have been eaten me or something has happened to me. That my letters are in Sydney three thousand miles away and my only possibilities to hear news from home, also makes me a little sad.
Apart from all this the old girls were here one day too early but in this bad weather I could not refuse them so they got their rations and a large piece of beef as I had promised them. After dinner I went down to the swamp. Here I could clearly hear the crocodiles or a single crocodile's roar even louder than usual. But I have not seen any yet.
Thursday
The last day’s storm caused, according to meteorologists a strong cyclone and after the radio news broadcasts I understood that I was on the outskirts. Elsewhere it has been livelier. I later heard that the cyclones name was Audrey.
Today the sun has been shining all day and it gave me a good opportunity to do different things. Among other things I gave the water pump one more chance but it is completely dead. There is absolutely no compression. The aqueduct was twisted so it should be cut loose. Later I cleaned up after the devastation from the storm as another large tree had fallen across the road and our shed on the airstrip was once again blown away. Later I also found time to direct water away from the road where it was about a half a metre high. ‘Road’ is probably not the right word because it consists only of deep ruts. There's certainly been something to do today but it is only good because otherwise the time is too long. Nothing heard over the radio. Not even expecting anything! I did my hair cut today and I thought I got away with it. It is a little easier with my beard.
Friday
I have unfortunately realized that when we need buffalo we have to walk far. I tried today to drive a little longer than last time with the result that the Nissan got stuck in the mud and it took me several hours of hard work to get it on the track again. It will be like that until the rainy season is over. When I got back to the camp I cleaned the car again. It really needed it after the ride in the mud. Luckily it was fine weather all day. In the evening I thought I heard that there was a telegram for me but suddenly he shifted the wavelength and then everything was silent. Now I hope that he might repeat it tomorrow. Currently there are pro Vietnamese entertainment programs over the radio.
It is a weekly program about and for the Australian troops in Vietnam fighting against the Communists and for peace in South-east Asia and worldwide.
Unfortunately it is a tame and amateurish performance that makes me pretty tired. I think I have to close the radio when I write my diary, I cannot concentrate.
Saturday
Because of the excessive moisture in the air, mould grows almost everywhere. The things you do not use daily do not smell good. Among those things is my backpack and my sleeping bag but it did not smell good already and it will be thrown out as soon as I get a new one. Maybe a sheet bag will do it with the weather permitting anyway. A mosquito net is probably the first thing I will buy when I get the possibility. I really miss it out here. Yet I still have my mosquito smoking rings to use when I go to sleep, but they do not last all night.
So today I washed the tables and chairs here in the dining room. They were completely gray with mould. Then I looked at the boats and there was not really any more to do and it was about three o'clock in the afternoon. I have just finished a book that had a title that suited me well, I thought it was called ‘Unknown destination!’ It was an exciting book about a man's disappearance from an international scientific conference in Paris without leaving any trace. The case continues with intricate episodes and strange happenings until the book's final pages where a surprising revelation and clarification is born. A book, I think of the better ones by the author Agatha Christie.