Cape Tribulation, Australia, Lives Up to Its Name

I’ve always had a suspicion of place names. Perhaps it began near home at murky Crystal Lake. In geography we learn that Greenland is mainly ice and Iceland is mainly green.

But I’m not one to be fooled so easily. A place in Australia named Cape Tribulation had to be good.

The first information I stumbled onto leading me nearer the place was a T-shirt in a tourist shop in Cairns that sported a picture of a giant crocodile with a pair of human feet dangling from its smiling snout. The caption boasted: “North Queensland--You’ll Never Go Anywhere Else.”

Later I began hearing of a cape named Tribulation from fellow travelers who had been there and come back. They were ecstatic in their reports, or perhaps I misunderstood that stammer in their voices as they spoke of its many attributes.

It promised everything I’d dreamed a tropical resort could promise: cyclones, dengue-plagued mosquitoes, poisonous snakes, goannas (giant meat-eating lizards), strangling figs and stinging trees, even crocodiles.

All this added to the lure--such a welcome relief from the sheltered way of life and scheduled pace at home. I quickly bought my ticket.

Skirted the Fringes

The three-hour bus ride took us along the Capt. Cook Highway, past miles of narrow, white sandy coast shaded by the spreading boughs of fruiting mango trees; it skirted the fringes of tall grayish sugar-cane plantations before turning inland to enter dense valleys of canopy-covered rain forests harboring the brilliant blue Ulysses butterflies.

After negotiating the crocodile-infested Daintree River by ferry, we plunged through creek after creek before being brought to a halt at the last swollen stream, at that time of year too deep to be forded in our coach.

As we last passengers shuffled off to wade across to waiting four-wheel-drive Jeeps, the helpful shuttle driver smiled and said, “Don’t carry anything you don’t feel like carrying. We’ll make sure everything gets to you.” Gen. Custer’s supply man once said the same thing.

While the gang waited to be ferried the remaining five miles to our “final destination,” a term spoken with some foreboding, I was the only one to heed the Jeep driver’s advice: “If any of you would like to walk, the next mile and a half is a beautiful stretch. We’ll pick you up on our last run.”

True to his words, it was a beautiful stretch, paralleled by rounded fan palms and hanging lianas like a scene from an old Tarzan movie, punctuated by an occasional vista of the ocean beyond. It was all set to music by sounds of unseen waterfalls and streams.

But when my beautiful stretch of 1 1/2 miles stretched into three, with no sign of the Jeeps returning, I began to ponder those immortal words of Oliver Hardy: “It’s a fine mess you’ve gotten us into this time, Stanley.”

Belated Jeep Arrives

Finally the belated Jeep arrived, and as I climbed in with bruised and aching feet, a woman asked in surprise, “You walked all this way?”

I casually nodded, “Uh-huh.”

“Why?” she wanted to know.

“I just felt like walking,” I replied nonchalantly. Cape Tribulation can be rather trying.

At last we came upon our destination, a conglomeration of charming dormitory-style bungalows in a patch of open green surrounded by jungle, where hairless spiders of tarantulan proportions inhabit the rafters and toilets. Truly a joy, the resort of my dreams!

Our driver, a man well aware of the joys, hastily set the last bits of luggage and food on the ground, then waved (or made the sign of the cross, it was hard to tell which) and sped off.

As he did so, a Swedish unSamaritan turned dryly to me: “Did you leave your food on the bus?”

“Yes, and my shoes too,” I answered.

Then he said, “I left your bag of food there, and I don’t think the driver is coming back.”

An hour later, with no sign of the driver returning and with no phones and no chance of seeing him again until Sunday, some three days later, I found myself faced with the harrowing prospects of survival. I carefully assessed my resources and planned how to overcome the odds.

It was a jungle out there, and the cards were stacked against me, but I would survive Robinson Crusoe-style, living off the wild coconuts, bananas, breadfruit, passion fruit and papayas of the area, at least until dinner was served at 7 p.m. A beachcomber’s life isn’t easy.

At 6 o’clock I ordered and paid for my meal, only seconds later to turn and see the Swedish fellow carrying a bag of food my way.

“I think I brought yours by mistake, and mine was left on the bus,” he explained.

Cape Tribulation spares no one.

Although accommodations are limited to only two choices, a youth hostel and camping along the each, there are things a person can do at Cape Trib, one of the most interesting being the guided bush walk with plant expert Paul Mason.

Deep in the Rain Forest

The five-hour trek takes one deep into the heart of the rain forest, where Paul is familiar with the many native food plants and animals. Exotic dining is a must on any holiday, and Paul will teach you how to eat palm fruits, bush peanuts and the large green ants that taste refreshingly like lemon.

Unfortunately, the day I signed up for the tour (my main reason for traveling so far), it rained about 12 inches, prohibiting all but a swim through the mud and making our scheduled departure impossible because the streams had turned to rivers.

Instead, the afternoon was spent in the bungalow, listening to the usual traveler talk and answering those same four standard traveler questions: “Where have you been?” “How long have you been gone?” “What do you do for a living?” Although this time the fourth question was noticeably absent: “Where are you going?” In this weather we were all going nowhere.

Exploring the Reef

Another suggested activity (also curtailed at the time of my stay due to monsoonal downpours) was the “Rain Forest Reef Experience,” also booked through Paul Mason’s store. On this excursion, a half-hour boat ride takes one just north of the cape where the Barrier Reef borders the shore. Nowhere in Australia does it come closer. The snorkeling is said to be superb, the colors surpassing those found in the more popular touristed reefs off Cairns.

During most of the year Dawn Grey of Mamaleca Nursery organizes a fruit-tasting seminar, introducing the jungle neophyte to a variety of tropical delicacies. For $2 one can sample such goodies as french-fried green breadfruit or ripe breadfruit cake, sliced starfruit, baked plantain, rambutan, cherimoya, jak fruit and mangosteens.

Seasons determine availability, with the greatest variety of fruit being November through February. I happened to time it in April.

A not as highly recommended activity is croc watching at night. After a number of residents and fellow travelers warned me and an elderly female accomplice that it would be suicidal (the more polite said “unwise”) to explore the mangrove swamps after sundown in search of the elusive estuarine crocodiles, we were convinced to try. Together we had the best fortune in all of our stay at Cape Trib--we didn’t find any.

Rains Come, Buses Don’t

On Monday, though overdue to leave, the rains again came and the buses didn’t. The weather just didn’t make sense. The rainy season ends, I knew, in March, which had ended four days earlier. But further interviewing of the locals revealed that it commonly carries on through to May, a fact largely responsible for the overwhelming number of birth dates in December and January.

Two days and 22 inches of rain later the twilight sun appeared as massive flying foxes disturbed the sky with the “woomph woomph” of their leathery wings and groups of raucous sulfur-crested cockatoos announced the end of rain. The waters receded and the bridges that were six feet underwater just one day before were once again passable.

Over the hill came our bus, and with exultation and relief we said goodby to our adventures.

In our short stay we’d discovered the meaning of tribulation but none of us looked worse for it. We’d paid for adventure and found it, and more importantly, discovered in this world of false advertising, one of the few remaining places that lives up to its name.

Arrangements to Cape Tribulation can be made from any budget hostel accommodation in Cairns such as the Backpackers, Caravellas or the International Youth Hostel at 67 Esplanade along the waterfront. A three-day/two-night safari, bus and lodging included, costs $38. A four-day/three-night safari costs $44. Buses normally leave Tuesday, Thursday and Saturday, and sometimes return the same day. Good luck.