2009 Cape York - Shelburne Bay

The Snow Fields of Cape York

Sought after by mining companies, National Parks, and conservationists, fought for by the pastoral lease holder, under Native Title land claim by the traditional owners, and locked away from the passing traveller are the most spectacular pure white silica sand dunes in the world. The sand is so pure, so vast and so white that the dunes appear like rolling snowfields.  

Situated between Shelburne Bay and Temple Bay on the eastern side of Cape York is one of the least disturbed areas of active parabolic silica sand dune systems in the world. This area is the traditional home of the Wuthathi people, where the warm coastal waters and fringing coral reefs abound with dugong and green turtles. The Wuthathi were seafarers and they spent their lives in and out of outrigger canoes gathering food and other resources from the seas and the sand beach country.

In 1957 Dal Nixon drove his bulldozer from Weipa to a site on the Harmer River and took up a pastoral lease granted to him and his wife Eileen. Later in the 1960’s he used that same dozer to push a track out the Shelburne Beach, and to the silica dunes at White Point, then an access track down to the Olive River.

In the following years prospectors, and naturalists arrived in isolated Shelburne Bay and they were all seeing quite different things in the dunes. The naturalists and ecologists drew up a complex plan for a National Park and conservation groups made the proposal too compelling for the government to bury and economic interests of the miners made it too inconvenient for them to seriously contemplate. This National Park application went on to set a record for being the longest such unacted proposal of its kind.

In 1980 the Bjelke-Petersen government had a very active agenda of northern development that favoured the prospectors and the pastoralists and at one stage even a plan for a space station at nearby Temple Bay. The Queensland government issued numerous mining leases for the silica sand and in 1985 a Japanese conglomerate sort approval for a large scale mine, town, processing plant, and port complete with shipping channel blasted through the most pristine areas of the Great Barrier Reef. On the other side the conservationists were still insisting the area should be a National Park; however nobody ever thought to involve the local indigenous peoples.

At the Mining Warden’s Court on Thursday Island, the Japanese consortium through their powerful legal team stated in court that there were no indigenous people from the Shelburne Bay area as they were all dead. This turned into one of those great moments of Australian courtroom drama. Don Henry, the then co-ordinator of the Wildlife Protection Society, located 70 year old Alick Pablo who was born at Shelbourne and was enslaved on the Japanese pearling luggers. He and other ‘white sands people’ were living at nearby Lockhart River.  A couple of days later the doors of the court room swung open and old Pablo walked into the packed room where Henry presented “a live, ticking elder of the Wuthathi people”

“The other side looked as though they had seen a ghost,” said Henry. The QC handed Pablo a map and challenging him to “show us where you are from”. Henry recalls that Pablo “looked down at the map, and up at the QC, and then down at the map and then up again and said “You are a funny fellow. You got the map upside down” before turning it around and putting his finger square on Shelburne Bay.

The Mining Warden took the unprecedented step of recommended strongly against the proposal but a furious Bjelke-Petersen said it would be going ahead anyway. The Wuthathi and conservationists gave up on the state and jointly approached the Hawke government who said the proposal would not have the go-ahead without a Federal export licence or foreign investment approval. So with that the consortium dropped the proposal.

This fight galvanised the resilience of the Wuthathi people and the Wilderness Society into the ‘Save Shelburne’ coalition for further court room battles, because despite the success, the mining leases remained up for renewal until February 2003.

In the midst of all this, in 1999 the State government refused to renew the Nixon’s 45 year old pastoral leasehold. There were very messy claims and counter claims both in the media and in the Supreme Court. Eileen Nixon said the government is “being pushed around by the greenies and the Aborigines” and demanded $1.6 million in compensation for a lease they no longer own. The Nixon's then formally rejected the latest Queensland Government offer of $450 000 in compensation and the creation of a small block around the existing homestead and elected to return to the courts.   In April 2002 the situation was made more complicated when Justice Muir of the Supreme Court of Queensland dismissed an application by the Queensland Government to have the former leaseholders of the ‘Shelburne Pastoral Holding’ evicted from the property. It was a small victory in the short term for the Nixon’s.

On a personal side the Nixon’s had suffered. We have been regular visitors to the Shelbourne property since 1991 although most visitors thought of Dal as a cantankerous old fellow, to the extent that for many years, written across the Shelburne Homestead roadside sign was “Cranky old bustard lives here”.  However we were always greeted with a smile, handshake and a long yarn about everything including the “bloody no-hopers”. Eileen’s bread was something to enjoy over a cuppa or two in the very basic but clean accommodation.

As the fight progressed Dal became a little thinner and a little crankier. Eileen moved out of the homestead around 1994 and according to Dal “was very busy mixed up fighting those buggers saving the Cape”. By 2005 he had suffered a stroke and was taken from the property and is currently residing in a nursing home in Mareeba. Time was on the side of the opposition and the homestead was just left in the moment. The sink was left stacked with pots and pans, old papers and bottles covered the floor. In his final days at the ‘house’ he was living on a diet of tined camp pie and pears and there were lots of both on the shelves with rust starting to take hold. The outside was a junk yard full of broken stuff. The old lawn mower, well past its used by date in the middle of the chook yard, his Landcruiser ute, the Blitz truck and that dozer was slowly been taken over by the environment.

Back in Brisbane, with the mining leases still open the Wilderness Society and a number of eminent members of the scientific and political community lobbied the government. Finally on the on 24 March 2003, Premier Peter Beattie convened a press conference and announced that the State Government would legislate to protect ‘the pristine sand dunes of Shelburne Bay from mining’.

The twenty year fight was not over for the Wuthathi Tribal Council because they still had to contend with that National Parks application. They and the conservationists were both concerned how the “under-funded” National Parks would not protect the area nor recognise the cultural significance.  Lyndon Schneiders, spokesperson for the Wilderness Society said “We can understand the Wuthathi people looking at other poorly funded parks on the Cape and not being impressed” he continued “We think there is a place for a properly funded, Indigenous managed park and here is a great opportunity for the government to get it right. But the bottom line is if the Wuthathi don't want a National Park, we won't support it.”   In future, whoever manages this area I do we can all enjoy.

Shelburne Bay is a diverse, complex and unusual landscape that changes as one leaves the Nixon homestead and follows the 80 kilometres of track out to the coast at White point. We had travelled this track many times since 91’, and often we were the only vehicle to have been out there since our previous bi-yearly visit. The track is now so overgrown that on this trip we used quad bikes.

Four bikes, eight people, fuel, water and with gear for a 4 day expedition makes them overloaded. From Bramwell station we followed station tracks for the first 19Km before turning left onto an old shot line that I had GPS marked from maps more than 40 years old. This seismic line connects with Dal’s original bulldozed trail about 6kms south east of the old Nixon residence.  More than once we were scouting on foot, retracing our steps, or standing on the quad seat looking for the ‘line’ through the trees. 

The country is dominated with open Melaleuca forests and on the ridges Zamia Palms and stands of Swamp Mahogany. With the numerous fallen trees and track finding the first 2 kilometres takes us more than 2 hours. Finally it is more noticeable and we realise we are on Dal’s old trail, not that the either regrowth or fallen trees were any less. 

Previous summer fires through the area have turned the regrowth on the track in certain areas to blackened dead wood. 

Around midday we are 20kms out when one bike collects one of these dead sticks, spears up underneath and tears off a hydraulic hose. 

With a reshuffle of fuel we now have 3 bikes, 8 people and all that gear. Most of the time the track is so encroached with the regrowth that only one side of the two wheel track is visible. The pillion passengers are constantly being wacked by trees as we edge forward, more than often it was quicker and more comfortable just to walk.

About half way out the country changes dramatically into heath land, a dense coverage of low shrubs with Grevilleas, Casuarinas and Melaleucas. This open country is dominated by huge termite colonies that in the sun are like sentinels guarding this pristine landscape. 

We cross small sandstone creeks lined with numerous carnivorous plants. The water run crystal clear and tastes sweet. 

At 29kms we are back into higher country and the Zamia palms, however with darkness upon us we camp where we stopped. Only too soon, the rain begins to fall and it makes for a rather unpleasant evening.

In the morning most of the quad tyres require a good squirt of air. It is still raining spasmodically however the overhanging branches keep us wet to the bone. 

From the top of the final ridge we can see the dune field 15 kilometres to the east. Descending that rather steep ridge we are into the white sand country where the ground is again covered with low heath. 

Also we have the added excitement of our first tee-tree swamp. These used to always cause us grief in the 4x4’s however with the bigger footprint of the quads they pose no problem. 

By mid-morning we reach and cross the Harmer River. The rain is constant; everything is wet, however we are exhilarated by our surroundings.

The Harmer runs dark red from the tee-tree tannin; this is in striking contrast with the pure white sand banks and the deep green foliage of the Gondwanic conifers. 

The vegetation is very difficult to penetrate because of its density however looking within the foliage almost every tree is covered with Cooktown Orchards. At this time of the year their purple flowers abound.  

As we enter the dune field proper the seasonally swampy ground is now covered with very low succulent grasses, sun dew and bright yellow flowers. Beside the track are pristine blue lakes surrounded by tall grassy reeds.  

The final obstacle before we reach our goal is the razor grass swamp. The swamps extend for about 3 kilometres; fortunately there are some remnants of the track which affords us some breathing space between walls of 3 metre high razor grass. The track itself is covered with tannin water about 150mm deep. 

In places the grass has reached in from the sides to the extent that we must push through using the quad as a ram. The grass fights back, slicing our arms. This process continues right to the base of the first big dune.  

At 73 kilometres and a day and a half of travelling we reach a small dry platform at the base of a spectacular 100-metre high white dune. These dunes are active and as such the 45 degree slope is loose sand that is slowly encapsulating the undergrowth. Now for the hard foot slog to the top. Zigzagging is the only way; even then you lose one out of every three steps. 

At the top we are all breathless both from the climb and the surroundings.Before us are several square kilometres of elongated parabolic pure white dunes rising like snow-clad hills above the surrounding vegetation. Looking east across a vast red tannin lake is the largest dune of all. The whiteness is only marred with the skeletal remains if a once forest of trees that it consumed eons ago. 

The dune then drops steeply into the blue-green coastal waters of Shelburne Bay. On the map this is marked as White Point.

The rain is still with us, however the sand is exceptionally pure and so white that it is cool to touch as all transmitted light and heat is reflected. The sand is fine, very fine grained and is recorded at 99% pure silica.

Looking back to the west from the top of the dune we see there are repeated low v-shaped dunes called Gegenwalle ground patterns and are recognised as the best developed and largest in the world. This entire area is unique and one of the few places in coastal tropics where such elongated parabolic dunes are still active. 

On a global stage this area is spectacularly beautiful and outstanding in its landform and vegetation diversity yet has remained hidden from the countless Cape York travellers. 

The Bramwell outstation/fuel stop does take charter flights over the area however, although impressive does not give one the 360 degree wow factor one gets from the top of these white monoliths.

It will be interesting to see if the Wuthathi governance will allow others access to see and appreciate why they fought so hard and long for the protection of this special place.

Our return trip is just as interesting, all those blackened dead fire burnt sticks are now pointing directly at the oncoming quad radiator. We manage to avoid damage by removing the lids of our food boxes and zip tying them over the radiator grill. Furthermore the tyres need constant topping up, we are running at about 5 PSI so they are soft enough to roll over the stakes but the downside is they constantly leak air at the beads.  

Our last camp in Shelburne was on a rise above one of those sandstone creeks. With a water wash to rid ourselves of the days grime, we sat around the fire watching the mist rise from our damp boots and listened to the silence of this magical place.


Herewith the complete picture set, and a link to Google Earth and this beautiful place:
 http://picasaweb.google.com/lh/albumMap?uname=GoannaTracks&aid=5430185368843864225#map

2009 Cape York 4 - South from Ussher Point

South from Ussher Point

Friday 14^th August:

The track to Ussher Point is variable and always interesting. It travels open dry sclerophyll forest, through patches of vine scrub, and over rocky bauxite outcrops. The main track turns north to Sadd Point  but we start to cut our way through the very overgrown scrub towards Ussher Point.

In the midst of heavy vine scrub I find the faint track I am looking for. It is only 500metres long but very tight and leads to a magnificent fresh water lake. The final few metres of the track was blocked by a huge paper wasp nest and that took some courage to remove before we had access to our camp site. Here we will leave the vehicles whilst we travel south for 8 days on the quads.

Saturday 15^th August:

We are packed and on our way, this time without the pontoons as with the correct selection of the tide times we should have a favourable run. The drive to the beach was easy on the track in the smaller vehicles. Ussher Point is special to Lyn and I, having spent many adventures north or south from here. We crossed the beach creek which was much deeper than usual and onto the beach and began our trip south.

The eastern Cape York beaches are the dumping ground of the Pacific and always a paradise for beach combing. Soon we come across an old wooden junk burried in the sand and then Paddy finds the wreck of a life boat complete with outboard motor. Around the corner the spectacular bauxite cliffs and fruit bat caves always impress.

Just past the bat caves and just below the high tide mark is the remains of a WWII Aero Cobra. Only the prop tip is exposed and some of the motor, the rest requires some serious digging. We slowly ambled down to Logan Jack Creek where at the mouth was the wreck of an Asian boat, poorly built and garishly coloured. Was this the remains of an attempt of people smuggling? 

We walked up Logan Jack amongst the mangroves to where we found the remains of two bird carcasses and a big croc slide. It was time to retreat.

Crossing Logan Jack at full low it was still ½ metre deep, we settled on a camp site in the dunes well above high tide mark. Already we have collected some Nautilus shells for our new grandsons, a ‘magic’ floating rock (pumice) and the start of a shell collection for our two granddaughters. 

The wind was very strong as we headed into the evening. Venus was in the sky and with full high tide the beach that was once 300metres wide was now under 3metres of pounding waves lapping at the base of our sand dune camp.

Sunday 16^th August:

It was a terrible night, the strong breeze turned to a forceful gale that blew all night. An early rise was actually welcome, particularly the coffee.

We are ready to travel by 9.30 however the tide will not let us proceed past the next river. Waiting on the banks for the tide to recede suddenly a shout goes out, and what we had thought was a log on the other side stood up and started to walk. It was a two metre crocodile. We could not wait to have a closer look. With pictures taken and the desire to have a closer and closer look, finally our croc visitation ended as the he had had enough, stood up and moved away as fast as he could.

During high tide, Orford Bay is a vast sea; with the tide out it is a desert - such a contrast. Once on the other side we were exploring some rock pools and snacking on large black lip oysters when Lyn noticed another smaller crocodile in one of the pools that we were walking through.

With the incoming tide we called it a day and camped again in the dunes above a rock platform. The spot was ideal because fresh water soaked out above the rock allowing us a beach wash.

Our beach collection today included a large glass fishing float (Greg & Sue), a smaller glass float, more nautilus shells, and plenty of sightings of broken canoes.

Monday 17^th August:

We explored another bat cave as we waited for the tide to recede allowing travel south past the rocky headland. Walking and riding the quad at walking pace allows good exploration of the beach. Around the headland at False Orford Ness is the start of a 10Km long hook of beach that is a beach combing paradise. We decide to set camp then walk and explore. It was pleasant and we covered 7.5Kms before Michael appeared with his quad giving us a return ride. We did see one of the largest croc slides and discovered some fresh water points that we GPS marked for future reference.

At camp Paddy had been busy undoing a small mountain of rope he had found. He had untangled over 300metres before finally calling it quits, there was still more than four times that left in a large knot.   

Tuesday 18^th August:

Last night was full moon and a king tide. It is only at these times that this beach run is possible with the king lows allowing such beach travel. The down side is the full highs and the problems of finding dry camping places. This beach is a thin band between the ocean and a line of brackish swamps. Crocodiles move between the two and often we see tracks.

We reach Hunter Creek and on the southern side is our lunch stop. The next bay we call Conch Bay because of the abundance of these large shells. Paddy was the first to find one then immediately he comes across the best find of the trip. It was a wooden drum carved with some decorative symbols of unknown pacific island origin.

With one of us on the quad and the other partner walking we explore the bays. They are a garden paradise of rocks, shells, seagrass fields, sponges, soft corals, large sea cucumbers and other exotic sea creatures. Jan and Lyn walk for miles and enjoy every moment. We collectively found some nice shells and I an old tea pot.

We camped just north of Camasade Creek well above the water line amongst the Casuarinas using the quad as protection from the evening wind.

Wednesday 19^th August:

As we leave camp we see yet another crocodile slide only 200 metres from where we slept. We cross Oyster Bay and onto the rocky headland north of Capt Billy Landing whence we then started our return run back north. Returning to Freshwater Rocks Camp we collected our beach combing spoils along the way. This evening was Paddy’s birthday and the group had prepared a collection of beach presents for him. The collection includes a vast variety of balls (golf, tennis, pool, ping pong, football etc), a collection of fishing lures, and an emergency beacon light. Lyn and I had written a beach story poem for Paddy. The party feasted on oysters sautéed in tomato sauce and chilli. Mains were beef and corn fritters followed by birthday cake.

Thursday 20^th August:

At 5am a heavy shower wet the camp. With time to wait for the tide to recede we dried ourselves and equipment. On the southern side of Orford Bay Jan found an under-water camera. It was still dry inside and the sim card readable. Later examination would reveal it was lost by a Japanese tourist in 2003.

When we reached Ussher Point we had covered over 180Kms.

The final creek crossing was now one metre deep and covered with floating pumice. Although it was crossed without complication it was none the less a final bit of excitement.

Our camp was as we left it, fortunately the fridges were still running providing a welcome cold beer for our return

Friday 21^st August:

The morning revolved around cleaning up, washing and preparing to move on tomorrow. In the afternoon Rob, Jan, Lyn and I walked the beaches north of Ussher Point. We walked the bays below magnificent red bauxite cliffs with coloured clay. The clay colours ranged from reds, pinks and purples through to brilliant white. In the third bay Lyn found a fantastic outrigger dugout canoe.

Back at camp, Michael had been cooking scones that proved great eating.

With all out collectables packed our evening meal consisted of Salmon and corn pie, followed by dates in red wine and cream – MMMmm.

Saturday 22^nd August:

Crossed the Jardine River and rejoined the Old Telegraph Track north to the Jardine River to where we had crossed it many years ago. Camp was at Nolan Brook.

Sunday 23^rd August:

This morning we crossed Nolan Brook...many times testing the water effectiveness of EarthCruiser and also just for fun. We had many spectators from the other campers in awe of a motorhome in this environment.

The Creek crossings of Cyprus, Cannibal (The Log Bridge), Mistake and Sams all proved photogenic. We did the touristy thing at Fruit Bat Falls eventually arriving at Bramwell Station at a comfortable time in the afternoon.

Over dinner we talked to station owner, Wendy about our plans to quad out to the pure white sands at White Point.