Keeping out the way of the military

As we wandered into Geraldton on 13 July 2026 in search of breakfast, the sudden reminder that we’d crossed into Australia’s southern half hit with a crisp enthusiasm. The wind had teeth, and the temperature had fallen well below the balmy warmth we’d been spoiled with for the last few weeks.  Bugger!

We were heading to Perth from Geraldton and had to find our way past Perth airport to Jandakot.  To the north of Perth is the large Pearce air force base.  As we planned our route south down the coast to Perth and briefed the procedure for getting into Jandakot all of a sudden a lot of the airspace north of Perth that we planned to fly through went red!

We do all our flight planning using the AvPlan Electronic Flight Bag (EFB).  Aside from helping us plan a route, it gives us up-to-date weather forecasts (incl rain radar) and NOTAMs.  Notices to Airmen (NOTAM) are issued to advise pilots of anything that could be a hazard to a flight.  AvPlan monitors these and, while we were having breakfast, the Pearce air force base had activated the airspace reserved for military flying.  That started a whole new cycle of planning as we had to be mindful of maximum heights we could fly and the boundaries of the active military airspace we had to avoid.

In amongst that planning, we did decide to veer off the coast of Perth and visit Rottnest Island which wasn't in our original plan.

Apart from the dramatic red colour of the military airspace we were flying around on our way south, the flight down the coast and out to Rottnest Island was pretty routine - apart from the last few miles over water from the coast to Rottnest Island ...

In my aircraft I have two LCD displays - a Primary Flight Display (PFD) which displays my artificial horizon, heading, airspeed and altitude and a Multifunction Flight Display (MFD) which I have configured with a moving map.  There was parachute op's overhead Rottnest Island and several other aircraft sequencing their arrival including Andrew and John in their Cirrus somewhere in front of me.

In the middle of all that busy-ness, my PFD went dark and then rebooted.  I also got all sorts of warning messages from the MFD telling me the transponder had gone offline, autopilot servos had disconnected and other less than desirable warnings.  Shit - this has never happened before.  My primary flight instruments have gone but the engine continued to hum away.

I've flown my aircraft long enough to be able to land by "feel and sound" if I have to but loosing your airspeed and not knowing your height when trying to stay clear of the controlled airspace just above me is not good.  Fortunately, I can change the mode of the MFD and, without much fuss and bother, quickly had the primary flight instruments displayed on the MFD together with the map.  Thank goodness for modern aircraft avionics with multiple failover modes.

The PFD rebooted itself twice and then came back on-line as if to say - "what's the problem - I just took a nap but I'm back now".  By this stage I was starting to position myself for landing at Rottnest Island and landed without any further incident.  Touch wood, the instruments have all been fine since then.  However, I have downloaded the diagnostic logs and sent them off to Dynon, my avionics manufacturer, and asked for an explanation about what may have gone wrong. 

After landing at Rottnest Island we walked the kilometre or so to the shops and restaurants for a pleasant lunch and a stroll around the waterfront.  As we only decided to visit the island at the last minute we hadn't done much research.  Several people have asked if I saw any quokka - the islands smiling marsupials.  Despite there being a reported 10,000 of these cute creatures on the island we never saw one and I didn't even know about them before leaving the island.

It was a short 17 minute flight from Rottnest Island to Jandakot Airport following the recommended inbound route.  Jandakot is one of the busiest General Aviation airports in Australia, if not the busiest.  We were efficiently cleared to land on one of the two parallel runways which were both in use by a controller who was disarmingly brief with his instructions.

A few days off in Perth

Since leaving Paraparaumu my aircraft has flown for 45 hours and, at 50 hours, is due for a routine change of oil and oil filter and a check by a Licensed Aircraft Engineer (LAME).  Andrew's Cirrus has also flown similar hours and is due for a check.  We'd arranged these checks at Jandakot before leaving home.

After landing at Jandakot we taxied to Applied Aviation Maintenance's hangar past dozens and dozens of aircraft.  I've never seen so many light aircraft at the same airport.  Everything from corporate jets to helicopters, fire bombers and a healthy sprinkling of Cessnas and Pipers.  After introducing ourselves to Rob at Applied Aviation Maintenance he showed us where the aircraft wash bay was and we taxied both aircraft there for a well deserved wash.  They were both covered in red dust and looking quite scruffy and it was good to spruce them up.

I like to assist with the maintenance on my aircraft so worked with Rob the next day as he inspected Thunderbird 6 thoroughly.  Andrew and John chose to visit the Maritime Museum and Fremantle Prison and I joined them at the Aviation Heritage Museum where we stood and looked over the their massive Avro Lancaster in awe.

We had lucked out and got cracker accommodation overlooking the Fremantle Marina, close to shops and restaurants and thoroughly enjoyed our stay there.

 

A sea of red active military airspace and our route around it

Perth 

Rottnest Island

Never saw one of these - a Quokka - on Rottnest Island

Red dust be gone!

Huge Avro Lancaster at Aviation Heritage Museum

Bustling Fremantle at night

As far from home as we're going to get

We said goodbye to Ross, Elsa and their friends during breakfast and then readied ourselves and our aircraft for departure from Cheela Plains.

Behind the area where we parked our aircraft there was a collection of huge mine dump trucks that towered over you as you walked up to them.  We were told these sad and dejected relics were left there many years ago because they couldn't negotiate a creek on the way to some mine.  There's many abandoned mines in the Pilbara and a lot of equipment left behind especially if recovery costs exceed scrap value.  The Cheela Plains trucks are clearly the ghosts of a past time. Big yellow bones left where the mining frontier once pushed through Cheela Plains - or tried to.

Cheela Plains to Carnavon & meeting the Slinging Down Under guy

We left Cheela Plains at 8:45am in calm and cool conditions.  It was a lovely morning and only about 12 deg at 6500'.  This is often the best time to fly in the outback as the exposed rocky land hasn't had time to heat up and generate convective turbulence that can make flying in the mid to late afternoon unpleasant.

The 1.5hr flight to Carnavon passed quickly as we flew in smooth conditions over a barren land.  On this leg we flew over a some desert areas and got our first sight of the uniform sand hills that dominate Australian desert areas.

Us pilots spend hours reading about or watching YouTube videos made by other pilots who are touring or ferrying aircraft around the world.  One of the guys we've been following is Kade who has created the Slinging Down Under YouTube channel (Kade's aircraft is a Sling TSi).  Kade's videos include the building of his aircraft, his first flights and now a tour of Australia with his wife Carly and young daughter Evie.

They left their home in Albury about a month ago and, from his videos and planned route, we knew they were traveling west across the bottom of Australia and then north up the coast of Western Australia.  We wondered if we might bump into them somewhere.  

As we pulled up to the fuel pumps at Carnavon, guess what?  Over in the corner of the apron was Kade, Carly and Evie packing up their Sling, VH-KCB.  We walked over to them and they were stoked when we said "hey - you're the famous Slinging Down Under guy".  We had a great time chatting to them for about 30 mins swapping flying adventure stories, places to visit and experiences.  A lovely family creating memories while showing their 7 year-old daughter the best of Australia.  Maintaining a YouTube channel of the quality of Kade's Slinging Down Under channel is hard work, and I think Kade was genuinely chuffed to know we were regular followers who took the time to speak to him.

As we were chatting, Carly grabbed their camera and Kade interviewed Andrew, John and I for inclusion in his next YouTube episode.  I hope it comes out OK!

After meeting Kade, Carly and Evie we walked into Carnavon for a coffee.  Along the way we realised that Carnavon was the westerly most point we would be visiting in Australia and as far away from home as we were going to get.  It was a bit sobering to realise that when we took off we would be heading for home.

Carnavon to Geraldton over Shark Bay 

Denham in Shark Bay was high on my list for an overnight stop, but school‑holiday bookings had snapped up every room in town so we had to be content with overflying Shark Bay and carrying on south to Geraldton.  However, the flight over and around Shark Bay didn't disappoint.  Shark Bay is another piece of gorgeous Australian coastline.  Crystal clear waters and miles and miles of white sandy beaches.

Shark Bay is large bay and includes the Peron Peninsular and is bounded by Dirk Hartog Island.  I tracked from the mainland coast across the bay to the peninsular, passed overhead the Shark Bay airfield and onto the south end of Dirk Hartog Island.  As I left the island and tracked south I could see large salt evaporation ponds at Useless Loop, (yes - "Useless Loop" is a real place name).  This vast solar‑evaporation salt farm is one of the most remote, pristine, and impressive industrial sites in Australia. It produces exceptionally pure salt, thanks to the region’s dry climate, high evaporation rates, and ultra‑clean marine environment.  The varying colours of the evaporation ponds beside the different shades of blue of Shark Bay was stunning.

When we met Kade and Carly they told us to watch for whales on the coast as we tracked south from Shark Bay to Geraldton.  It didn't take me long to find about 4 or 5 whales in the shallows just 100m or so offshore.  The water was so clear you could see them beneath the surface and it was great watching them surface and "blow".  I did several orbits around the first pod and saw several others as I tracked south at 1000 - 1500' along the impressive sand cliffs.

With a firm bump we arrived at Geraldton to conclude another great day of flying and meeting like-minded aviators.

Huge abandoned mine trucks at Cheela Plains

Pilbara desert landscape

You wouldn't think so, but I'm in my happy place.  Truly.

Meeting Kade of Slinging Down Under fame.
(L to R) John, Andrew, Peter, Kade

Carnavon, the westerly most point of our trip.
Time to head for home.

Monkey Mia (foreground), Shark Bay

Salt evaporation ponds, Useless Loop, Shark Bay

Whale playground, on coast south of Shark Bay

Battle of the blogs

Andrew brought a full backpack of camera gear on this trip — two big DSLRs, a lens that needs its own postcode, an Insta360, a couple of GoPros, assorted accessories, and a drone. Every motel arrival triggers a race to grab a power point before he plugs in his entire photography ecosystem and the lights dim.

My own “kit” is an iPhone 15 Pro and an Insta360 I borrowed off Andrew. I’ve been dutifully pressing the record button on the Insta360, but have absolutely no idea how to watch whatever I’ve captured.

John and I give Andrew grief for hauling around half of JB Hi‑Fi, but the truth is he knows exactly what he’s doing (this stays between us), and I’m grateful he lets me use his shots on my blog.

We both keep blogs, and this is where the competition heats up. Andrew is a disciple of “a picture tells a thousand words,” while I’m over here writing a thousand words and then adding a picture for moral support. People seem to enjoy reading them, but for me the blog is really a way to add colour to the legally‑required pilot logbook entries for a trip like this.

After a long flying day, writing a blog post can feel like homework — so Andrew and I egg each other on to stay up‑to‑date. Neither of us is competitive, of course. Not at all. Absolutely not.

Thanks, Andrew, for letting me use your awesome photos and videos. You can check out Andrew's blog here https://nzcirruspilot.com/trans-tasman/ -  if you must 😜

Meeting Ross Edmondson at Cheela Plains

For a long time, I have followed Ross Edmondson as he's flown around and across the world on many epic trips in his Cessna 182.  The aircraft has extra long range tanks and a ferry fueling system that allows him to fly for 12+hours.  His journeys are an inspiration and, if you haven't found Ross' blog you should check it out.  WARNING: you'll get hooked and loose several hours of your time!  Ross Edmondson, Wandering the World By Air.

Ross and I first met in Paraparaumu when he was passing through, and I also met up with him in Adelaide when I was visiting my son Andrew and his family and Ross called into Aldinga airfield.

Ross is a project manager and is currently living in Perth.  As we're friends on Facebook he was alerted to our trip through Australia and got in touch.  Coincidentally, he was flying north through Western Australia when we would be heading south so getting together shouldn't be hard.

Cheela Plains was recommended as a meeting place by Ross as he, his wife Elsa and friends Ben & Nila had planned to stay there on their trip north to Mitchell Falls.  As I hadn't been to Cheela Plains, it's remote and has a good airstrip, it ticked all the boxes for me.  With Andrew and John's agreement we booked a room and agreed to meet Ross there.  I love the freedom of being able to change plans like this on a whim.

At 505nm (935km) from Broome, it would be a big day of flying to meet Ross at Cheela Plains so we planned refueling and leg stretch stops at Port Headland and Karratha.  We left Broome at 9:45am and tracked around Roebuck Bay and south down the coast.  It was pleasant flying at 6500'.

Port Hedland’s airfield belongs to a mining company, so we had to get permission to land there. They approved us without difficulty.  However, after pulling up to the pumps and shutting down a fellow zoomed up in a LandCruiser who had clearly been waiting for us to collect the $30 landing fee from each of us.  It made me feel like we were personally propping up Australian mining.

Overflying Port Hedland on arrival and departure made it very clear was a mining service town and port.  It looked very industrial with rows of similar homes probably supplied by the mining company.  Everything was covered in rusty red dust.  Not a place I'd be excited about living in.

Although it was only a short 106nm (200km) flight to Karratha, that didn't use much fuel, topping off the tanks was essential.  There is no Avgas at Cheela Plains and I had to be certain I could get there and back out to our next refueling stop at Carnavon with safe fuel reserves. Nothing focuses a pilot's mind like fuel gauges that are dropping below the quarter-full mark!

As we flew the 135nm (250km) inland to Cheela Plains it was hot and bumpy with a headwind at 5500'.  I avoided climbing higher out of the turbulence as that would use more fuel.  Andrew and John went to 7500' but said the ride wasn't much better there.

We're in the Pilbara region of Australia now and the land is rich in iron ore.  There's mines everywhere and lots of danger areas above the mines to be aware of.  The Pilbara is often described as an "ancient sun burnt land".  It's easy to see why.

The Cheela Plains airstrip information we'd been given by the hosts indicated the airstrip had an elevation of 900m.  However it was more like 900ft.  I found the place without difficulty but had arrived way too high.  Several descending orbits fixed that but I was pretty tired of the heat and bumps by the time I landed.  Even Thunderbid 6 was hot and bothered with high oil and cylinder head temperatures.

As we made the necessary radio calls approaching Cheela Plains, Ross heard us and called up.  He was only 20 - 30 mins behind us.  After he landed there were introductions to him and his wife Elsa and the other couple they were traveling with.

Through a misunderstanding we'd neglected to book dinner at Cheela Plains and were told when checking in, the small dining room was full.  That was a problem as we only had a few tired muesli bars between us and the nearest takeaway would require a drive of epic proportions - if we had a car.  The owner was very nice and took pity on us.  She provided a Andrew, John and I with a lovely home cooked lasagna and salad and we scrounged three beers and a bottle of red wine from her.  Sitting on the balcony outside our room in the warm twilight we all thoroughly enjoyed that meal.

After dinner we caught up with Ross and swapped flying stories which was great fun.  Having flown extensively around the south Western Australia area, he also gave us some welcome tips of places to visit.

ZK-LDY landing Cheela Plains

Sunset over Cheela Plains Station

Catching up with Ross
(L to R) Ross, John, Peter & Andrew

Cheela Plains General Aviation parking apron!

Huge abandoned mining trucks abandoned at Cheela Plains

 

 

 

Saying goodbye to the Kimberley

Our stay in Cygnet Bay was great, we enjoyed a nice dinner and, although it was hot, we slept comfortably in our eco-tent.

A fine red dust dominates the Cygnet Bay airstrip.  Despite our best efforts, it was hard to avoid our aircraft getting covered in red dust both inside (off bags and shoes) and outside during taxiing and take-off. 

ZK-LDY taking off from Cygnet Bay (*)

Our flight south from Cygnet Bay to Broome took about an hour and was along the west coast of the Dampier Peninsular along beautiful white sandy beaches.  Broome is a staging place for people going to the various resorts and towns on the Peninsular and so we had to be more mindful of other air traffic outside controlled airspace than we've needed to be so far on this trip.  Interestingly, VFR aircraft in Australia generally do not require ADSB-Out so I can't rely on my aircraft instruments to give me an early warning of aircraft in my vicinity.

In planning this trip one thing we had overlooked was the Australian school calendar.  In the first half of July, most schools are closed for the holidays.  As the weather is warm and settled in the north, many families have packed the car and driven distances that defy basic mathematics.  The result? Trying to find a room for the night has become a competitive sport.  We wanted to have a break and stay two nights in Broome and check out the pearling industry history and have a swim on Cable Beach.  But, after much ringing around and many internet searches, we could only find accommodation for one night.  The place we found was nice and had a great pool so we didn't stray far from there.

Andrew, John and I are now getting pretty slick at planning our departures and route (normally over breakfast) and when arriving at the aircraft, getting them untied and uncovered, packed and completing our pre-flight checks.  Many airports we've visited have mobile Avgas tankers that come to you when you call them by phone or on the radio.  That also makes getting away quick as you don't have to taxi somewhere for fuel, shutdown, fuel and start up again for departure.

As we left Broome on 11 July it was with a heavy heart. I really love the Kimberley area (as you can probably tell by now) and I wonder whether I'll ever get to come back.  I hope so before I have to hang up my headset.

Obligatory pre-departure photo, Cygnet Bay

Clouds of red dust on start-up at Cygnet Bay

Oaks Cable Beach Resort, Broome - this will do

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(*) Video prepared by Andrew Schofield.  Checkout Andrew's blog too:  https://nzcirruspilot.com/trans-tasman

Fulfilling a Dream

The Kimberley region is my favourite part of Australia and, for as long as I've owned ZK-VRV, "Thunderbird 6", I've dreamed of flying her amongst the numerous islets and turquoise seas that make up the Buccaneer Archipelago.

Check out this awesome video Andrew took of me doing just that.

Check out Andrew's blog for more stunning images of our trip.

The Kimberley region is in the NW of Australia.  It's one of Australia’s wildest and most remote regions — a massive stretch of red cliffs, rocky plateaus, deep gorges, and wide open savanna.  This ancient land has been carved by powerful rivers and shaped by monsoon rains.  In the wet season I understand it floods and roars with waterfalls; in the dry season it becomes a land of clear skies, dusty tracks, and long, winding rivers.

There's towering escarpments, sandstone ranges, huge cattle stations, tidal rivers, and coastal cliffs that drop into the Indian Ocean. From the air the colours are classic outback: rust‑red rock, bright blue sky, pale green savanna, bounded by a turquoise sea that’s as clear as gin.  Unfortunately that sea is also full of vicious crocodiles (salties) and probably more sharks than you would prefer.

Much of the Kimberley coastal region is inaccessible by road and the distances are vast even for boats.  The only way to take in this unbearable perfection is to see it by air.

We left Kununurra about 9:30am and set heading for the head of the Prince Regent Gorge 173nm (320km) almost due west.  The stream that formed this gorge starts as a trickle and over a distance of 50nm (92km) carves out a deep wide gorge through a rugged and remote landscape.  Fringed with sparse vegetation, it's fun to drop down and fly down the gorge with the sides whizzing past your wing tips.

The Prince Regent Gorge empties into the St George Basin and it was here that Andrew and John began to see for the first time the spectacle that is the Kimberley coast.

From the St George Basin we  tracked SW over land and sea to the Horizontal Falls.

The Horizontal Falls aren’t really waterfalls at all — they’re two narrow gaps in the red Kimberley cliffs where the ocean gets squeezed so hard it turns sideways.  When the massive 10 - 12 metre Kimberley tides rush in or out, the water can’t fit through the gaps fast enough, so it piles up on one side and blasts through like a river running uphill.  The result looks like a waterfall lying on its side.

From the air, the two gaps look like someone took a giant bite out of the coastline. You see a calm turquoise bay on one side, and on the other, a boiling mess of white water being shoved through a crack barely wide enough for a boat.

In 2019 I stayed for a night on a floating hotel and got to experience the falls in a boat.  Up close, you feel the power of the tides — the roar, the spray, the strange sensation that the ocean has decided to behave like a river.  It’s wild, remote, and unmistakably Kimberley: red rock, blue water, and forces of nature doing things they probably shouldn’t.

The Horizontal Falls only run when the tide is right.  Prior to leaving Kununurra, I'd tried to work out what time the tide would have the falls running but I gave up.  I'm not much of a mariner.  However, we lucked out and, as the video above shows, we got a pretty good show as we each circled overhead.

It was a long flight from Kununurra to the Kimberley's Buccaneer Archipelago and I was concerned about having enough fuel to have a good fly around, plus make it to our overnight stop at Cygnet Bay (where there is no fuel) and onto Broome the next morning.  I did some in-flight calculations and suggested to Andrew and John that we fly south to Derby, refuel and then come back to explore the Buccaneer Archipelago and take some air to air photos and video that Andrew was keen to capture.

At a low but safe altitude I flew around this stunning area in a wild and varied route as I meandered my way to Derby.

It was as hot as hell in Derby and after we had both refueled we took shelter from the beating sun in a hangar so we could agree how we would take the air-to-air photos and video when we returned to our coastal playground.

Backtracking along Derby's runway 11,  I was having trouble keeping Thunderbird 6 straight and then I felt shuddering and vibration which is not normal.  Uh - oh.  I knew exactly what was wrong.  My tail wheel tyre had gone flat.  I pulled over to the shoulder of the runway and shutdown.  Sure enough, a sad tail-wheel greeted me.

Tail wheels are fragile.  They're small, run at a high pressure and rotate very fast on takeoff and landing.  As a likely point of failure I'd brought a spare tail wheel with a solid rubber tyre.  However, I couldn't change it on my own.  Andrew and John had just started up in ZK-LDY so I called them and told them of my predicament.  They shut down and walked down the airfield (in about 32 deg heat) and when they arrived, we had the tailwheel changed in about 15 - 20 mins and I was on my way again.  It was hot work amongst persistent outback flies but we got it done and I was grateful for their help and that of the airport manager who gave them a lift back to ZK-LDY in his ute.

Returning back to the Buccaneer Archipelago we took our air-to-air videos and photos which you'll see published by Andrew at a later time.

All good things must come to an end and it was time to set a heading for our overnight stop at Cygnet Bay Pearl Farm.

Cygnet Bay

Cygnet Pearl Farm is at the north end of the Dampier Peninsula and is serviced by a well maintained runway. In addition to growing and harvesting natural pearls, it includes accommodation which has been developed significantly since I last visited in 2019.  It was basic then but now there’s very nice eco-tents st amongst outback gardens. It’s a bit pricey ($60 landing fee + $70 transfer fee each way to the airstrip) but is worth a visit.

The runway is compacted red clay and there’s a fine red dust which the aircraft blow into a cloud which covers everything. Once this dust touches something it’s near-impossible to get rid of it. Within minutes your shoes are reddened for life and, if you put a bag on the ground, you’ll be reminded of the magical Kimberley forever more.

Videos 

Kimberley - ZK-LDY Passing

Kimberley - Passing ZK-LDY (Vans RV's are faster than Cirrus SR-22)

Photos 

Prince Regent Gorge / St George Basin

Buccaneer Archipelago

Buccaneer Archipelago

Buccaneer Archipelago

Beautiful flying

Thunderbird 6 enjoying the stunning scenery

Romantic flying photo

Indescribable beauty & colours

More indescribable beauty & colours

Horizontal Falls

Horizontal Falls

Uh oh - buggered tail wheel

Tail wheel change on the side of the Derby runway

Cygnet Bay ecotents - Very nice

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Some photos supplied by Andrew Schofield (can't remember which ones).  Checkout Andrew's blog too:  https://nzcirruspilot.com/trans-tasman

Turning South

Many pilots avoid controlled airspace and large airports where there’s complex procedures to follow. I don’t and actually enjoy reading up on the procedures and being directed around an airfield toward the active runway way for takeoff.

Darwin is real busy with two large General Aviation aprons where there are dozens of aircraft parked and coming and going.  There's a lot of military aircraft on the field as well.

After filing a flight plan about 30mins before departure (which is so easy in Australia using AvPlan), I started and called for a clearance to depart on VFR Route 5. The clearance controller gives you a transponder code, and departure instructions which include the approved route and assigned altitude. You then call a ground controller for clearance to taxi to the run-up bay for your engine checks, etc. When that’s done a further call to ground will give you clearance to the hold point for the active runway. Switching over to the control tower you tell them you’re “ready” and, when traffic permits, they give you instructions to line-up and take off. You’re not airborne for very long before you’re then told to contact the approach controller who monitors your flight out of their airspace and who will permit further climb and/or deviation around cloud if necessary. It’s good fun and more complex than the procedures I fly back in New Zealand.

There’s lots of military airspace south of Darwin on the southerly route to Kununurra which is active at the moment in the lead up to the Pitch Black. Fortunately the airspace that was active was above us and as long as I climbed no higher than 8500’ I wasn’t in any danger of being shot down.

My track cut across vast plains dotted with salt pans, where a network of streams and waterways snaked their way toward the coast. The landscape shifted constantly and the 90 minute journey to Lake Argyle passed quickly.  I never once tired of staring out the window, just watching the world glide past.

We decided to fly past Kununurra and overfly the Bungle Bungles. We flew down the eastern shores of the huge man made Lake Argyle. Covering an area of roughly 1,000km², the lake holds a volume of water equivalent to about 18 to 21 times the size of Sydney Harbour, making it look and feel like a massive inland sea right in the middle of the outback.

Rising abruptly from the red dirt of Western Australia’s Kimberley region, the Bungle Bungle range looks less like a natural landscape and more like an alien city of giant, beehive-shaped towers. Famed for their striking, zebra-striped bands of orange sandstone and dark grey lichen, these ancient structures have been sculpted by wind and rain over 350 million years.

There’s a prescribed route tourist flights are supposed to fly over the Bungle Bungles which separates aircraft and ensures everyone is flying in the same direction. We’d overlaid that on our charts but got it completely wrong! Fortunately there was no other air traffic and we just did our own thing without getting in anyone else’s way.

Leaving the Bungle Bungles, I turned north and headed for Kununurra overflying the abandoned Argle Diamond mine on the way. What a big hole in the ground!

We booked a dinner cruise on Lake Kununurra and that was a pleasant end to a long day of flying.

Bungle Bungles

Argyle Diamond mine - now closed

Lake Kununurra Dinner cruise 

Packsaddle Lagoon

Andrew doing what he does best

Lake Kununurra sunset