Original story at the Sydney Morning Herald
The sudden forces of nature in the Daintree are an inspiration, writes Sue Williams.
Fishing on the Mossman River.
We’re standing in driving rain beneath the dripping canopy of the oldest rainforest on Earth. It’s muddy underfoot, drenching overhead and the river nearby, coursing its way through the thick undergrowth below, is rising rapidly. The guide can’t conceal a note of alarm in his voice as he watches how fast the water is rushing and how quickly it’s inching its way up the banks.
“We’ve had such a lot of rain here this year,” he says. “But these are quite unseasonal conditions. We’ll have to keep an eye on the river.”
Under the forest canopy. Photo: Corbis
Yet it’s hard to share his unease. Breaking storms on a four-day trip away can prove a dampener anywhere else but in the middle of a rainforest. Here, deep within the World Heritage-listed Daintree in far north Queensland, north of Cairns, the rain has the power to turn the experience into a magical one.
In the filtered light, the leaves of the giant eucalypts and ferns of the ancient cycads glow a deep, verdant, glossy green, and everything is wreathed in haloes of mist. The smells of fresh peat and damp moss fill the warm afternoon air. Apart from the drumming of the steadily falling raindrops, there’s an almost eerie, hushed silence.
A room at Silky Oaks Lodge.
It’s a stark contrast with even half an hour ago when we arrived, peered over the Mossman Gorge from the lookout on the edge of the steep escarpment and started off down one of the many hiking trails, the Dreamtime gorge walk, with our Aboriginal guide.
Awash with antiquity: the Daintree.
Then, it was overcast but bright, and the air was filled with the screeching of birds – about 430 species live here at the last count, including 13 species found nowhere else in the world. We were looking forward to a traditional smoking ceremony along the way, bush tea and damper, and a swim at the “beach” fronting one part of the mighty Mossman River. Something tells me won’t be happening. Our guide picks up his pace. He’s been telling us stories of his old Kuku Yalanji culture, stopping to identify bush food – sometimes holding branches down so we can pick it fresh from the source – and explaining the medicinal value of plants along the way.
A cassowary at the Daintree Wildlife Zoo. Photo: Alamy
When the rain starts, the 135-million-year-old rainforest really comes alive. Myriad creatures – it contains 20 per cent of Australia’s bird species, 65 per cent of its bat and butterfly species, nearly one-third of its frogs, marsupials and reptiles, and more than 12,000 species of insects – scurry, fly and buzz for cover.
The river starts rising before our very eyes. “I think we should get back,” our guide says. “The river’s rising so quickly, it could cut off the road later.”
It’s a reminder that some things in this comfortable, modern, technologically advanced world are still beyond our control.
Our base for this jaunt is Silky Oaks Lodge, overlooking the Mossman River, on the edge of the wilderness. Bought four years ago by a new owner, Dutchman Paul van Min, it’s undergone a $4 million renovation to upgrade the suites and tree houses, build other cabins overlooking the rapids, rebuild the pool, improve the large spa treatment centre and create a restaurant with 180-degree rainforest views.
It is now included in the Luxury Lodges of Australia group.
There is no TV or mobile reception, just the sounds of birds, the creaking and rustling of the forest and the river gurgling over the rocks below.
On the second day, I tried out a mountain bike then had a snorkel in the billabong at the front of the lodge, seeing jungle perch and freshwater turtles, although searching in vain for the resident platypus.
The next day, I took a yoga class then a kayak for a meander along the river.
But right now, we’re walking fast to get back to the vehicle that dropped us at the start of our walk at the new $20-million Mossman Gorge Gateway Centre. The bustling indigenous tourist business at the entrance to the gorge has an art gallery, cultural exhibits and activities.
We pick up our pace, and the guide thanks us and then steers us on and finally out through a clearing and watches us as we pile into the bus. “I’m so sorry,” he says, “but you never know with the rain.”
No need for apologies – seeing the forces of nature so vividly exercised is a luxury for any visitor to the Daintree in itself.
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