Douglas Daly Father’s Day

Our Father’s Day started the usual way – with presents in bed. We have never really ‘approved’ of the commercial aspects of these days, and when the children were little presents were ‘just’ the wonderful things they made at Daycare. These days, they have a great stall run by the PFA at their school. Imagine how ecstatic I was to find exactly the same stall at the Jabiru festival the day before! It was the stall from the local primary school and they had the same sort of products that all school stalls have – perfect!

Duncan was keen to check out the Fenton Airfield, as we knew there was some wreckage from WWII there, and we’d missed stopping there on the way up to Darwin. We’d stopped past the Pine Creek market in the morning and spoken to an expert there who said it was open to the public. Sadly, when we got there, we found this was NOT the case. Every gate was padlocked closed, though there were signs indicating that it was ok to wander in. But without the car. Which was a bother, it being 36degrees and all. So since it was Father’s Day, and this was something Dunc really wanted to do, we all climbed over the gates and made the long and hot hike in search of smashed up planes. Dunc negotiated a 500m walk, but then there was a sign showing the location of the ‘aircraft graveyard’ so onward we went.

Whingey made a loud and foot-stamping return to the family, but Whiney stayed quiet this day. I think Angus enjoyed the aeroplane aspects. We were a bit disappointed with the graveyard though. There was not much left! So much had been reclaimed and recycled and scavenged throughout the years. Oh well.

Fortunately our next destination pleased everyone – the Douglas Daly Hot Springs. We saw a new warning sign for the first time, and Dunc was pleased since he hates cold water. These springs were lovely, and we basically all ploughed straight in and just lay there recovering from our very hot hike. After quite some time we started to explore. The springs were unexpectedly variable. There were patches of hot and cold and it was easy to move left or right depending on whether you wanted to be warmer or cooler. Eventually we followed the spring to its source and could watch the hot water bubble out from the sand. It was STINKING hot and I can understand the warning signs now. In places, we couldn’t stand still as the sand underfoot was just too hot.

It was yet another breathtakingly beautiful place to spend a lovely Sunday afternoon.