BACK TO WORK

It has been a beautiful clear day here in OK Falls, sunny and around 20c, the first real hint of warmer weather.

I was reviewing some paperwork today and I came across a story I wrote in January 2009 about the trials and tribulations of getting back to work. Here goes.

All of us to some degree dread going back to work after the Christmas break and what irks most of us is just getting to work again after a break. We have to confront the traffic or scores of people jostling for a seat on a train or bus. Then there is the mind-numbing journey into work, all the while longing to be back at home again on holidays.


Thankfully for most this trial is over in and hour or so. But for some government employees getting back to work after the Christmas break is an exercise of mammoth proportions.


Let me tell you how I got back to work this year after the Christmas break.


First there was the hour taxi ride to Brisbane airport and then the long line waiting to check in. A four hour flight seems like eight when a couple with a baby sit in front of you and the baby proceeds to cry most of the way to Darwin. Even worse the in-flight movie is Mama Mia.

We all know the wait and hassle of collecting our luggage after a flight but I happen to arrive at Darwin just as a flight of homecoming soldiers returning from Timor land and clog the airport with their bodies and baggage.


It takes me nearly 40 minutes to get a cab for the trip into the city. Once there I pick up my 4WD vehicle and proceed out of town. Usually a trip to Katherine takes around three hours but I am travelling most of the way through a steady tropical downpour which reduces visibility and increases travelling time to almost four hours.

It is almost six pm when I arrive at my Katherine motel, more than 12 hours after I set of from home in Brisbane.


I need to get back to my East Arnhem community of Ngukurr but the road into Ngukurr has been cut at several places so I have to cool my heels at the community of Baranga whilst I await the river levels to drop.


I hear that there is a chance that the river may drop so I make my way out to the flooded creek crossing and wait for four hours to no avail. I have to turn around and drive 300 kilometers back to Baranga.

I try the next day and after many deliberations and false starts I decided to try to get across the aptly named Hell’s Gate Creek. With some trepidation I take to the water and force the vehicle through the swollen creek. The farther I go the swifter the water gets and I have to fight to control the vehicle. The engine gives out a splutter and my heart thumps as I have visions of being washed away and eaten by crocodiles.


Thankfully with a little more gas the engine fires and I am through the worst of it. My car leaves a bow wave like a mini destroyer and I wait relieved on the other side as water pour from all parts of the car.


The journey continues with a few more creek crossings, though none as hairy as Hell’s Gate Creek.


I arrive at Roper Bar late in the afternoon. In the dry season the water trickles over the Roper Bar but during the wet season the river level is almost 12 meters above the bar. There will be no access across the Roper Bar until late March early April. So I spend the night at the Roper Bar Motel, a misnomer really as all you get is a bed. There is no TV, phone or internet connection at the motel.


The next day I organise a barge to take me into Ngukurr. It is no simple process getting the vehicle on board the small barge as the ramp is narrow and slippery and it is pouring with rain.

Safely on board I have an hour journey down the Roper River to Ngukurr. Only in the Northern Territory could you have a bare-chested barge pilot trying to shield his eyes from the driving rain calling out to his spotter to watch out for logs and debris as he could not see anything further a meter or two in front of him.

It is a far from comforting vision to look at the banks of the Roper River to see numerous large crocodiles laying on the banks no doubt in the hoping for a mistake from the blinded barge captain.


Finally the barge arrives at Ngukurr and I drive carefully off and make my way to my temporary accommodation, the Ngukurr Church Rectory. I stop in amazement at the front of the house as the driveway and most of the yard is covered in fallen trees and branches. During my absence a severe storm had gone through Ngukurr and uprooted and destroyed most of the trees.


To make matter worse the electricity had also gone off during my absence which meant all the food in the refrigerator and freezer had spoilt and stunk to high heaven.


The joy of going back to work! Over 100 hours travelling to face many more hours of cleaning up.


If only I could catch a train or bus to work!

akmacca08@live.com.au