By Jess McGlothlin
The sun magically gains strength when one is on saltwater. A hot day gets hotter, UV rays go superpowered and scorch anything and everything in sight. Here on the Admiralty Gulf on the Top End of Australia, it seems more supercharged than what I’ve felt in the South Pacific or the Caribbean. This is Aussie sun … full-bore and ready to fuck some shit up.
Lucky for us, we are otherwise occupied. We wipe sweat from our brows with the sodden sleeves of our sun shirts, down another Great Northern Super Crisp, and keep casting. Tubb, the owner of the aluminum boat that’s serving as our home base against the big crocs and equally big sharks in the water below, has stocked the boat well. We have just enough beer for a morning of fishing, and then we’ll head into the mangroves to collect the crab pots we dropped earlier in the morning. By the time the beer runs out, we’ll be back at Kimberley Coastal Camp, the gloriously remote but equally homey camp he runs with his chef wife, Jules.
Tubb and Jules live here, in this camp in the middle of nowhere that’s only accessible by helicopter, float plane, or boat (I hitched a ride in on a Grumman Mallard stocked with beer, soda, and concrete mix, and it was probably the best two-hour transfer flight of my life). KCC, as they lovingly call the outpost, embodies the Top End: rugged, practical, and utterly charming.
Tasting Aussie’s Top End
The fishing is what’s brought me here. The waters of the Admiralty Gulf are home to a dream list of saltwater species: queenfish, mackerel, giant trevally, mangrove jack, broome, barramundi, and so much more. It’s like the famed Seychelles fisheries but with the addition of the rockstar barramundi, which is very happy to take a fly and freaking fun on a fly rod.
It’s good, clean living here. The drama of the world drops away and we’re existing by the sun and the tide; no phones, no computers, no Wi-Fi. Just the sun and the wind and the water. And the quiet comforts of camp life. Jules whips up restaurant-quality meals including numus, an Aboriginal pickled or cured raw fish dish, homemade chili jam, and endless amounts of fresh fish and oysters.
Desserts are a highlight, including local favorites such as vanilla slice and salted caramel fudge. One night we lit a bonfire to cook up the Australian version of s’mores, a bastardized version of the American classic, in honor of me being a rare American visitor. Digestive crackers, Cadbury Caramello Koalas, and homemade marshmallows form a concoction that puts any Hershey’s item to shame. (And let’s be honest … digestives > graham crackers, any day of the week.)
Meglaroo & Adventure Marketing
We sit around the campfire and concoct the existence of Meglaroo, a wine-fueled creation of our imagination. He’s a giant kangaroo who could take on the crocs and the sharks, and most certainly could hold his own in a bar fight. We giggle about the North Territory’s viral marketing campaign “CU in the NT” and shake our heads at the fact the Darwin Council chose to ban merch bearing the saying. That’s good marketing, we rant, so of course they shut it down. Politicians are the same the world around.
Once the s’mores and the wine run out we all find our way back to our rooms. I stop off at one of the outdoor showers, bordered on three sides by wooden walls with a rocky outcropping serving as the fourth wall. I’m joined for my lovely shower under the stars by a little gecko who seems to have taken up residence in this particular shower, and he makes for chill company as I wash off the day’s salt and sweat. It’s time to tuck into clean sheets, listen for the dingoes howling late into the night, and wonder if Monty the olive python will visit the camp kitchen overnight on the hunt for quolls.
Because on the Top End, nothing is done by halves. And the rules of a “normal life” go out the window in the most delightful way.
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