Experience the land of the Bardi – the saltwater people
My guide, Debbie Sibosado, fell silent as a flock of red-tailed, black cockatoos flew overhead. She became agitated, shuffled on her feet and kept her head down. I silently waited, admiring the birds, looking at the rugged bush land around me, and the red soil beneath my feet. The midday sun was beating down as the uncomfortable interlude passed. Soon enough Debbie revived and as cool as a cucumber, while I sweated profusely in my descent into sweltering mess, continued our bushtucker walk through her native Djugaragyn back yard.
Debbie is an Indigenous guide, one of the Bardi ’saltwater people’ whose traditional homeland is the remote Dampier Peninsula in northwest Australia. After a long legal battle, the Bardi people finally won recognition of their native land rights to the Peninsula as recently as 2005. Today, the region is slowly becoming known beyond the Kimberleys, as one of the most unique, pristine, coastal environments in Australia. Home to rust red pindan soil, blinding white sandy beaches by iridescent ocean, unspoilt native scrubland and many Indigenous communities, the Dampier Peninsula, or Dampierland, offers some of the most authentic and rewarding Australian experiences.
I had left Broome at dawn, bumped my way up the 4WD Cape Leveque Road, and reached Djugaragyn by 11am. Joining Debbie for an insightful exploratory into Dampierland history, culture and flora, we discovered atmospheric old timber stockyards, from the land’s past life as a cattle station, tried local bushtucker, learnt about untouchable ‘law trees’ and revealed a traditional medicine for headaches – one for my next hangover hopefully. Some time later, as we were enjoying a plate of hot damper, fresh from the fire, Debbie explained her earlier discomfort. Red-tailed, black cockatoos are her inlaws and according to Bardi law, when she encounters them she must show respect and neither look nor not speak until they have passed. I wondered for while who my secret inlaws could be. While I am speechless when I see a dreaded huntsman spider, I soon decided phobic fear and ancient law were far from the same thing.
Following lunch, I bade farewell to Debbie and her husband Steve, the best damper-maker I have ever met, and continued bumping north towards Cape Leveque, the isolated tip of the Dampier Peninsula. Cape Leveque is known locally as Kooljaman, hence the name of its award-winning Indigenous-owned Kooljaman Resort. The French name was given in honour of a French hydrographer, Pierre Leveque, who first noticed the incredibly powerful tidal flow that passes the Cape, as the ocean retreats dramatically through the Buccaneer Archipelago on one of the biggest tides in the southern hemisphere.
The Kooljaman beach shelters offer one of the most awesome camping spots I have experienced in Australia. These rustic shelters, made from old timber and dried palm fronds, are perched on a low rocky ledge, just a couple of metres from the transparent sea. Kicking back I felt I could have been on the edge of a remote island in Asia. Snorkelling and fishing are the best way to spend an afternoon here though my fishing skills being as average as they are, the small campfire out front was only used for roasting potatoes. Must remember next time to bring a skilled fisherman as I hankered for barbecued trevally as the sun set over the Indian Ocean, illuminating the red cliffs around me. Sleeping to the sound of the ocean, I felt a more idyllic camping spot is hard to imagine.
As the sun rose, I reluctantly dismantled my tent. As I did so, I recalled a story I had heard about someone who had previously camped here, discovering a King Brown snake curled up under her tent. Whether it has been there all night was unknown but spending the night asleep on one of the country’s deadliest snakes would surely have made a good travel brag for years to come.
With no scary snakes about however, I set off to see if I could encounter something similarly dangerous in the bay of nearby Lombadina Community. Lombadina local, Robert Sibosado, offers sea kayak adventures, timed daily according to the tide. My kayak trip was to leave the oasis-like settlement of Lombadina at 7am before the Kimberley sun gained too much strength. I met Robert at the Community office and headed off in his 4WD through the dunes. Emerging onto the bay, my sunnies swung on to subdue to glare of bright white sand a blue sea as we cruised along the flawless beach crescent. Soon enough it was time to take to the sea as we unloaded the kayaks, kitted up and set off. The water was so clear that its depth was difficult to assess as we paddled out into the big blue yonder. Not a soul could be seen in any direction and it was difficult not to appreciate the bay’s isolation and protective owners. Without its native title status, who knows what kind of rampant development would have been inflicted on this paradise by now – a gleaming resort with imported palm trees a wealthy tourists would have stolen its pristine innocence. Gliding across the bay I imagined Robert’s ancestors centuries ago, watching the tall masts of explorer ships from distant lands arrive on the horizon, bringing with them the winds of change that would transform this remote and beautiful land into the Australia we know today.
Robert brought me back to today as he pointed out the rocky reef we were heading for. Known locally as Bungard, this reef is of great significance to the Lombadina people as a favourite and fruitful fishing spot. I have visited the Bardi homeland during their Iralboo season, so fish are aplenty – in particular, mullet, trevally, mangrove jack and the delicious bluebone. Robert’s eyes are well tuned-in as he points out schools of mullet in the distance, visible only for a moment riding the peak of a small wave. With another excited jerk he points out a stingray. How he can tell the difference in a split second between a stingray and a rock shadow is beyond me as my untrained eyes stare vainly at the glistening sea. The sun is already beating down from the sky so we anchor the kayaks and roll off into the clear water to cool off and swim with the schools of fish that dance gracefully in the dappled underwater light. Climbing back into the kayak was a less than elegant moment but I was refreshed for the return to the beach. Driving back towards the Lombadina settlement, we pause to rescue a ghost crab, spied scuttling under our 4WD wheels. Roberts respect for his land and its natural inhabitants is inspiring – if only all Australians felt this way!
Later that day, I began my journey back down the pindan road towards Broome. The Dampier Peninsular had offered me the opportunity to be welcomed into its Aboriginal communities, meet its relaxed and friendly locals and truly envy their coastal Bardi lifestyle. Their love for the land and knowledge of its secrets means that this pristine natural environment could not be in better hands.
- Jennifer travelled on Kimberley Wild’s 3 Day Cape Leveque Experience
