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 😜
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
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.
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 Bay Pwerl 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)
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.
We thoroughly enjoyed our stay on Groote Eylandt. It's very clean and tidy although I understand the Aboriginal communities on the island may not be at the same standard as we experienced. The Groote Eylandt Lodge was very comfortable albeit a bit expensive.
Groote Eylandt to Jabiru
By 10:30 we were refueled and away. I chose to track further east to have a look at the Aboriginal settlement Umbakumba before setting heading for our first stop at Jabiru. As I expected, the settlement wasn't much more than a collection of ramshackle houses on the shores of a nice bay where fishing was obviously a major pastime.
I overflew the major settlement of Alyangula where we stayed as I left Groote Eylandt behind.
Arnhem Land is not an area I've flown over before but, because it was hot and bumpy I climbed into smooth air which put me on top of the cloud. Cloud obscured much of the view until I was about 100nm (185km) from Jabiru. When the cloud broke up and the land beneath came into view I could see a mostly wide, open country with long grass and scattered trees. There was big sandstone plateaus and gorges carved into the land. Most of the land is gently rolling with broad river floodplains in parts.
We popped into Jabiru for fuel and it was as hot as hell. After refueling wee retreated into the small terminal where we had a nutritious bag of chips and a cold drink for lunch.
Jabiru to Darwin
After about 45mins on the ground we started our 150nm (278km) trip to Darwin. This included a brief side-trip up the Mikinj Valley where there was some impressive escarpments and river valleys.
The first half this leg was over similar wide open country as that I flew over on my way to Jabiru. However, the second half was more interesting as we kissed the Van Diemen Gulf coastline.
Things then got busy as I readied myself to land at Darwin airport. There's several prescribed routes into Darwin for light aircraft to follow but we still had to talk to a clearance delivery and then an approach controller plus orbit waiting for other traffic to disperse before being handed off to the control tower to be cleared to land.
The Pitch Black military air exercise starts in Darwin in a few weeks. This is the Australian Air Force's premier international biennial warfare exercise and there's lots of military aircraft based at the airfield. I didn't see them, but when Andrew and John landed behind me, two F-35 fighters were waiting to line up on the runway behind them. Having two of those aircraft idling on the runway would've cost the Australian taxpayer a few bob!
As we were unpacking and tying down our aircraft there must have been about a dozen F-35's taking off on the runway only a few hundred metres away from where we were parked. The noise was horrendous.
A day off in Darwin
The primary reason we chose to visit Darwin was to visit Andy who was an instructor at the Kapiti Aero Club and who Andrew, John and I have all flown with. Andy's a great guy and is now a First Officer with Air North and it was great to catch-up with him and his wife Suzy on each of the two nights we stayed in Darwin. He was good enough to lend us his car to get around Darwin in.
The motel we were staying in was clean and tidy but we had suspicions about some of the residents and their activities. Returning to our room we found people on the footpath and were asked to stay outside the building as there was "maintenance" being performed. I was busting to go to the loo, so I sneaked down the driveway and around the back to our ground floor room. In the rear carpark was a Police vehicle and ambulance. I went to the toilet and then stuck my head out of the door to see a stretcher with a person covered by a sheet. Lovely!
On our day off we busied ourselves getting oil for the aircraft and then went to the Darwin Aviation Museum where we geeked-out on a large display of military aircraft including a massive B-52 bomber.
Alyangula, Groote Eylandt
Tortured landscape en-route to Jabiru
Darwin skyline at dusk
Panoramic shot of Darwin Aviation Museum showing massive B-52
Our original plan was to fly around the Gulf of Carpentaria to Cooinda which I had visited many years ago. At Cooinda, you can do the Yellow Waters cruise which is lovely and includes seeing some pretty ferocious crocodiles in their natural habitat. It’s school holidays here and we weren’t able to get accommodation so that idea was sadly scrubbed.
Next idea - let’s go right around the Gulf of Carpentaria at the top of Australia to the strangely sounding Groote Eylandt. I haven’t been there before.
With accommodation planned and a call to the friendly ARO at Groote Eylandt airport to check what, if any, Aboriginal land access permits we needed to land on the island, we were off.
In the Gulf of Carpentaria, the Australian continent sort of merges into the sea. The land barely rises above sea level and, apart from the mangroves, the coastline is pretty indistinct. Across the land, green fringed waterways make their way to the sea and, from the air, look like capillaries from some biological text book. The few settlements in the Gulf are dozens of miles inland and so the coastline is remote and isolated. With appropriate attention to the Civil Aviation Regulations of course, it’s fun to drop down low and zoom up and down the waterways. Birds are a hazard but, on this occasion, I saw few.
Andrew and I positioned the aircraft so he could get some video of me flying along the coastline. When that was done, I carried on “zooming” and having a great time.
The Gulf is about 350nm (650km) wide and so it was necessary to get some fuel. We called into Borroloola for that and wandered down the road to the local service station for an icecream and cold drink. The temperature was about 29 degrees.
Borroloola is a bit of a rough looking Aboriginal community and, although the aircraft are in a secure area behind a locked gate, I didn’t want to leave them for long. We scurried back to the airport with melting icecreams in hand and briefed our flight onto Groote Eylandt.
Groote Eylandt was named by the Dutch (“eylandt” is Dutch for “island”). It’s aboriginal land and there are strict access permissions and large fines if you take alcohol onto the island without permission. On the west coast there are massive opencast manganese mines which are impressive as you fly over. There’s also regular mine blasting and NOTAMS advising of that which, as a pilot, you need to be aware of as the mines aren’t far away from the airport.
Allan, the Groote Eylandt Airport Manager, was a very friendly chap and offered to drive us the 20km to the Lodge we had booked in the main settlement of Alyangula. On the way he told us lots about the mines, the traditional Aboriginal owners and life on the island with his young family.
The Groote Eylandt Lodge was a lovely resort with a high standard of small but comfortable rooms. It was very pleasant sitting on the deck with a drink in hand watching the sun go down.
Gulf of Carpentaria
Gulf of Carpentaria
Icecreams & cold drinks at Borroloola on a 29deg day
Groote Eylandt traffic
Post flight debriefing (with adult beverages) on the deck at Groote Eylandt Lodge
