Jeff Bleich, US Ambassador to Australia recently visited the far north for a weekend retreat from the worlds political pressures.  He stayed at the superb Silky Oaks Lodge nestled quietly in the rainforest alongside the Mossman River.

He loved the trip so much that he wrote a wonderfully complementary blog which we thought our readers would like to share.

Ambassador Bleich wrote : Flying into Cairns reminded me that whatever image one already has of Australia in their mind, there is always more to discover. This part of northern Queensland includes the oldest rainforest in the world (nearly 90 million years older than the Amazon Rainforest), a heartbreakingly beautiful string of soft sand beaches, and the world’s portal to the Great Barrier Reef.  After a couple of days, I found myself wondering why I hadn’t made it up here even sooner. For the first time, that Australian tourism slogan: “Where the bloody hell are you?" already started to make some sense.

Cairns is perched near the very top of the northeast coast of Australia: with commanding views of the Coral Sea and within virtual shouting distance of Papua New Guinea. My family and some friends from California came up for a short holiday on the Mossman River, about an hour north of Cairns.

The first sign that we were in a different land was the bright yellow warnings posted all along the airport exit road stating: “Beware of Deadly Crocodiles”. The second sign was the deadly crocodiles themselves who were lounging on the banks just behind the signposts.

Over the course of the weekend we had wildlife encounters that included spotting two pythons (one of which showed up at our hotel), a family of prehistoric-looking cassowaries, and (during a particularly odd moment) licking the bottom of a green tree ant. More about those encounters later.

The most striking feature of Cairns is its enormous biodiversity. In the Daintree Forest alone, there are more plant and animal species than in all of North America.

Our first evening we cycled and then went swimming in a small fresh-water billabong fed by natural springs. We assured the kids that because this was fresh water, we didn’t have to worry about saltwater crocs spoiling our fun.

Unfortunately, we later discovered this wasn’t actually true; saltwater crocodiles are equally at home in salt water and fresh water, and just as deadly in either. Fortunately, we were all safe for other reasons. The billabong was too small and too far from any crocodile habitat for any self-respecting croc to come all that way just to feed on us.  Fortunately, my armed protection detail was there just in case a particularly enterprising crocodile came along…

We spent our Saturday enjoying the sights on the way to Cape Tribulation. The Cape earned its forbidding name when Captain Cook’s ship ran aground on the nearby reef, and he was forced to look out at its shores for weeks as he experienced one bad event after another. Cook recorded in his journal “…the north point [was named] Cape Tribulation because here began all our troubles.”

Even today many of the places near the Cape are rough and unpaved. Fortunately, the main road up to Daintree was “sealed” to the delight of our guide, Norm. After driving past fields of sugar cane, pineapple, coconuts, and other fruits of the tropics we arrived at the Daintree River.

There are no bridges across the Daintree – only a ferry that shuttles cars through its croc-infested waters. Before taking the ferry we decided to cruise for some crocs. Because it was still cold, the crocs were not yet ready to leave the slightly warmer water for the cooler banks.

But we glimpsed a mother crocodile, Beatrice, and her 5-month old son. The river guide explained that they’d assigned colorful names to all of the crocodiles, including a large successful male (Fat Albert), a smaller and toothless (thanks to Fat Albert) male named Scarface, and a three-legged male named Nelson (an homage to Admiral Nelson who also lost a leg in battle).

Whenever we felt safe enough to take our eyes off the river, we enjoyed seeing nearly half of all the mangrove species in the world as well as osprey, kingfishers, and various other exotic birds.

From there we took a hike through the forest.  Enormous “Strangler Figs” — which wrap themselves around lesser trees, strangle them, and then fill them in — rose around us. Thick Tarzan vines — long and thick enough to hold several Tarzans — swung beside us.

We sampled some bright violet fruit on the ground that Norm assured us was edible (although he allowed – correctly — that it didn’t taste very good). And bush turkeys and other birds called through the forest from all directions.

At a watering hole the kids waded among the perch and box turtles (our daughter bravely filmed a turtle biting her finger). Later we wandered out to the tidelands where we ate delicious oysters that we pulled off of the rocks and ate right out of the surf (again, something I wouldn’t recommend without Norm’s okay).

Finally, we drove to the heart of the Daintree forest. In one part of it, there is a
zip-line where we could slide on harnesses over and through the vast canopy of
trees. In the few hundred meter walk to the first platform, we passed by more
species than if we had walked from the top of North America to the bottom.

The zip line was another fun high altitude experience (to go with our recent ballooning, skydiving, and hang-gliding adventures), but it was not without its perils. Our delightfully insane guides took pleasure in torturing any members of our party who looked at all scared, and by daring us to taste the tree ants (their bottoms taste just like lime juice).

As we were leaving, one of the helpful guides discovered a python slithering around and picked it up for us to pet. We were all marveling at how every person we met up there seemed to not only be personable and know a great deal about the history of the region, but also well-tuned with nature.  The guide helped puncture this belief a little bit when we noticed his hand bleeding from where the python had just bit him. “Just a flesh wound,” he shrugged.

That night we had a wonderful dinner at the Silky Oaks Lodge with our good friends.
The owner, Paul, a former professional tennis player from Holland, shared some stories about the region and was a great companion.

It reinforced our feeling that the best part about traveling around Australia is discovering how both the land and the people keep surprising us with their capacity for fun, engagement, and revelation.

End

Editors comments: We are thrilled that you, Mr Ambassador, enjoyed your stay so much in our region.  You were undoubtedly in good hands up at Silky Oaks.  I'm sure we can now rely on you to spread the word amongst your compatriots and encourage them to come visit us and share your wonderful experience.  Perhaps we'll get the chance to welcome you again in the not too distant future, there is so much more to see and do. On behalf of our region we thank you for your kind comments.