Waltzing Australia

Kangaroo Island

[This excerpt describes part of my first day on Kangaroo Island, off the coast of South Australia.]

Kangaroo Island is a fairly large island, nearly 100 miles long and 30 miles wide. The terrain is a combination of lush, rolling, sheep-dotted pasture land; dense scrub; serene forests; wild, rugged, sea-lashed cliffs; and long, peaceful beaches. Because of its isolation from the mainland, as well as the very low population level, Kangaroo Island is rich with native wildlife, some of it unique to the island.

We drove through the thick bush-land, where openings in the sea of green were filled with armfuls of wildflowers. The road was unsealed, and the long, straight slash of reddish dirt looked like a fresh cut in an otherwise unbroken mass of plant life. Waves of greenery hung over the edges, seemingly ready to engulf the road at any moment.

As we approached the sea, the dense brush gave way to low coastal vegetation springing out of pure, white sand, dotted with small flowers that hugged the ground, trying to escape the wind. We had arrived at Seal Bay.

At the edge of the large dunes that rolled down toward the beach, a flash, like a bright gem, caught my eye. A dazzling little bird, in blues from deep sapphire to robin’s egg blue, flitted from branch to branch of a low shrub. It looked like a Fabergé jewel. “Splendid Blue wren,” Des said. “It’s the mating season, that’s why he’s so colorful. Showing off for the ladies."

We walked out onto the hills of drifted sand and clambered down their steep, shifting sides, descending to the beach, where we were surrounded by Australian sea lions. The colony here is made up of nearly 500 sea lions, and they were ranged all along the bay, as far as the rock-sheltered white sand stretched in either direction.

These sea lions are beautiful creatures, with glossy coats and huge, innocent-looking, dark eyes. They are large, but quick. Many of them were sleeping, but several of the youngsters dashed into the surf to play. They splashed joyously, then raced back onto the beach. After a bit of exercise, they would suddenly stop, and just crash to the ground, going from playtime to nap time in a split second.

Some of the bulls showed off for our benefit, stretching their necks skyward and assuming regal poses. Because the pups are getting quite large, now, we could get relatively close—their massive fathers feel that the children can fend for themselves, and they aren’t as jumpy as when the pups are younger. However, one makes a point of staying a respectful distance from the very territorial males. Besides, the mothers with their babies are more adorable, even if the pups are nearly full grown.

A few of the pups were still nursing, and the smaller ones hid behind their mamas when we approached. But most of them were very nonchalant and allowed us to sit only a few feet away, watching them, photographing them.

I could have stayed all day, just sitting there on the beach, watching those delightful creatures so astonishingly close at hand. But after an hour, it was time to move on.

Our next stop was Flinders Chase National Park, at the far end of the island. Our entrance was heralded by bursts of startled birds: galahs, cockatoos, magpies (with striking black and white markings), and wattlebirds (yellow breasted and fan-tailed beauties). There were a few birds we didn’t startle, as well—the ever-curious emus, the seemingly unconscious Cape Barren geese, and the too-proud-to-be-bothered peacocks.

There were kangaroos everywhere, lying in the sun, scratching, playing, grazing, bounding across the fields. The Kangaroo Island kangaroos are unique to the island; since it was separated from the mainland thousands of years ago, the island’s ‘roos developed independently. They are small, about 3 feet high, with soft, brown coats and dark faces. Before long, a few of the gentle creatures had come over to see what we were up to.

The only enclosures in the park are around the picnic tables. While the kangaroos will beg for food, the emus will walk in and take it, so it is from the latter that diners are protected. Des unloaded the lunch things and, at the first sign of food, an emu was at the gate, trying to figure out how to get in.

When we had finished eating, the emu still stood at the gate, watching us. One little ‘roo had hopped over, and was straining to peek over the stone wall, which was as tall as he was. Des produced a bag of bread, and we gave pieces to our two beggars. The emu swallowed his piece whole, then grabbed the kangaroo’s piece right out of its paws.

We left the enclosure and went down to the field, where we were soon surrounded by kangaroos. We were, of course, still hotly pursued by the emu, who didn’t want to miss out on any free food. The poor bird did look rather frantic and confused over the situation—couldn’t understand why we would give food to the ‘roos, when he wanted it all.

We strolled down through the gum trees, which were filled with magpies, wattlebirds and, higher up, sleeping koalas. The kangaroos followed us, nuzzling our hands for food. They were infinitely curious about the strange, black box I kept holding in front of my face, and they peered into my lens, trying to see what was clicking. Des says they make wonderful, faithful, loving pets. Don’t I wish.

The peacocks came over at this point to see what was going on, but didn’t get too close. They’re showy, but not as bold as the emus. We walked past the Cape Barren geese, which were busily searching the grass for food. They neither shied away nor showed curiosity, giving no indication of even noticing that we were there.

This was another spot where I would have liked to have stayed for a lot longer, just watching the wonderful birds and animals, especially the kangaroos. The emus are great, too. What bizarrely prehistoric-looking things they are. Des said all these creatures can be found everywhere on the island, this is just one of the larger concentrations of them.

Back in the van, we were off to see the aptly named Remarkable Rocks. The Rocks, immense granite boulders that have been shattered and sculpted by salt spray and the relentless wind, stand alone on a barren granite hill. From a distance, they reminded me of Stonehenge—stark, brooding, mysterious, dark stones outlined against a dark sky. As we walked among the Rocks, with the wind whipping around us and the waves crashing below, the dramatic effect was not lessened. The towering Rocks have been tortured into the most incredible shapes—twisted, hollowed out, fanged, eggshell thin in places, jagged, smooth, round, bizarre, balancing against one another, stained, awesome, beautiful. Remarkable.

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