Going bush in Queensland

By ARNOLD PICKMERE

Here I was in about 8900ha of tropical wetland and bush in central Queensland on the tropic of Capricorn (that's the southern end of where the tropics officially start). Just me and Chris, the guide from the Capricorn International Resort, in a four-wheel drive.

The bush seemed to go on for miles, just tracks winding through the trees, the scent of gums in the air and water all over the place because it had been raining recently. "Raining" is a relative term here.

The sun shone out of a brilliant, blue, cloudless sky but was not as hot as I had feared. A weather system that had sprinkled snow in Canberra had finally made it to Queensland, diluted to a sort of pleasantly warm presence. And hardly a mozzie in sight.

There were birds everywhere - wading, swimming and flying round areas of shimmering water. About 150 species, Chris reckoned. This place is on Australia's main eastern migratory flyway, not far below the Kakadu National Park. A real migratory flyway, nothing to do with the Kiwi migratory flyway from Auckland to Brisbane.

It was magical watching everything from little coloured rainbow bee-eaters to falcons and eagles; and the black swans and profusion of parrots and wading birds.

Chris is a bit of a scientist. He seemed awfully good at identifying high-flying birds, especially for someone who was doing the driving.

A lot of the bush looks decidedly inhospitable towards humans, sort of easy to get lost in and not many signs of food or drink.

Unless, that is, you know even a fraction as much as the Aborigines, who have spent aeons dealing with just this environment - knowing which trees or plants are good for making a fire, or spears, or medicines, and finding food and water where no silly European would dream of looking. They used to live in caves up in the hills behind the wetlands during the wet season.

I spotted a magpie walking around in the middle of nowhere looking for insects, the same bird that has made it to New Zealand where it bosses our meek little birds about. In Queensland they just seem ordinary; there are plenty of much bigger birds.

The magpies are probably better off than the little honeyeater, says Chris. Seems that goannas like trying to dig them out of their nests in banks. If something like that came to visit, you'd never watch a dinosaur movie again.

At the other extreme, the majestic sea eagle is head and talons above all the other birds. It was nesting about 30m up a dead gum, looking out over several hundred hectares of eagle takeaway menu. Chris was showing some people around recently when it swooped right in front of them, plucking a duck from the water for Junior's dinner.

Chris was ecstatic. "Wow. Did you see that?" But there was a stony silence in the vehicle. When he looked around everyone had "Give back that duck" looks on their faces.

Plenty of other things live in the Australian bush. Spiders, for instance, which are often large or poisonous, or both. There was one about 5cm long with a web that looked like a sprat net.

And snakes. How do you tell if a snake is poisonous? "Thank you, madam. Ah, I see you've ticked the box marked 'venomous."'

Because of the slightly cooler weather, we didn't see a snake. No sign of crocodiles either - one Aussie said they didn't seem to get them this far south. (Mind you, he also told me Shane Warne doesn't bowl his flipper any more.)

What really got me thinking on this tour, though, was when Chris started licking an ant. He seemed quite sober.

Seems these green tree ants secrete a vitamin C-type acid when they get annoyed. You can lick it to taste it, if the ant doesn't get too annoyed.

Unfortunately, I'd just read a fascinating book about the old days of hunting crocodiles and buffalo up the Top End. This bloke got put up a tree by a buffalo he wounded and the tree ants who lived there decided they didn't like him (or the buffalo bashing the bottom of their tree) and bit him about 60 times round the neck and shoulders. So I declined this chance of a lifetime.

The real thing about the green tree ants is that they make their nest by binding together a ball of living leaves. Half a dozen ants sort of link hands to bend the leaf in place, while others make it secure. Remarkably like the Aussie slip cordon waiting for Brett Lee as he runs in. Maybe their coach studies nature.

But then it seemed to me that any sensible ant would do that, halfway up a tree, if it had to. Other ants must have already occupied all the easier possies on the ground. Some termites build their nests halfway up trees, too.

In other words, this seemingly empty place was teeming with different species all claiming their own little spot. And when it rains even the most dehydrated-looking bits suddenly have all sorts of plants and lilies shooting up in profusion.

I couldn't see where I fitted in at all, as a flightless Kiwi of an age where a steady jog is a satisfying achievement, usually regretted the following day.

Fortunately, Chris then took me back to the immaculate world of the Capricorn Resort, which occupies a substantial park-like area on what is but a small corner of the whole resort.

It is a curious place, in the middle of nowhere. It looks as though whoever originally parcelled off the land stood on the endless beach and said, "Well, just give us this bit from here, down to there, and across to those hills on the skyline."

Today, it is owned by a Japanese family company which has appointed Rydges to manage the resort.

Free shuttles run to the train and airport 45 minutes (42km) away in Rockhampton, and the place offers three good restaurants (the Japanese one is easily the best) and a couple of dozen activities from horse riding to tennis and archery.

But the star attractions are two outstanding golf courses, a links-type course designed by Peter Thompson and a newer one created in 1992 by Florida-based Karl Litten. He reckons it's one of his best. Carved out of melaleuca swamp and bushland, it is called "tight and dangerous."

Back down on the beach you can sail or swim, surf or land yacht. Curiously, it is little used by visitors. Maybe it's that notice about marine stingers (highly unpleasant jellyfish) being around part of the year. Or perhaps because, in the tropical heat, the beach itself has no shade.

And there's that worry again about where I fit in ecologically ...

Never mind; I know now. Turns out my ideal niche was actually in the Lagoon Restaurant alongside the extensive swimming pool.

Because that was where I had my crocodile encounter. There it was - a little concoction of crocodile and kangaroo meat, on the menu under "Entrees."

I didn't feel quite like Crocodile Dundee, but it was near enough for me.

* Arnold Pickmere discovered the real Australia with the help of Qantas, Tourism Queensland and Rydges Capricorn.

CASENOTES


GETTING THERE: Auckland to Brisbane, then a 55-minute flight on Qantas subsidiary Sunstate Airlines to Rockhampton. Qantas offers Auckland-Brisbane-Rockhampton return fares starting from $NZ923 (adult), booked 21 days in advance, maximum 30-day stay. Free transfer from Rockhampton to resort (45 minutes.)

WHEN TO GO: Best outside the wet season (December-February)

COSTS: Bed and breakfast package at $A90 an adult a night. Other packages include unlimited golf on two courses at $A154 an adult a night.

CONTACT:

Rydges Capricorn International Resort

PO Box 350, Yeppoon, Queensland

Ph (00617) 49395 111

Fax (00617) 49395 666

E-mail: capricorn@capricornresort.com

BEYOND THE RESORT: Visit the Barrier Reef, Keppel Islands, aboriginal centre, fishing, nature walks.