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Morning at the Sheraton<\/span><\/span><\/a><\/div>Waiting for the arrival of my passport<\/span><\/span><\/a><\/div>With the Lombok handling agents<\/span><\/span><\/a><\/div> <\/div> <\/div>\n\n\n\nI was given a backtrack to the end of the southerly facing runway. Near the threshold I came across a large snake, which was suspiciously flat in the middle; it seemed to have been run over by the airliner that landed a few minutes before, and large birds were already here and feasting on it. I reported it to ATC, given that hitting dead snakes and large birds can be a risk for aircraft, and they had me hold position while they called a team to remove it. It was taking a while so I reassured them I could take off without risk, and they sent me on my way.<\/p>\n\n\n
Climbing out from Lombok<\/span><\/span><\/a><\/div>Climbing out from Lombok<\/span><\/span><\/a><\/div> <\/div> <\/div>\n\n\n\nI climbed out, and a slight turn to the right put me on course direct for Broome, Australia. Ahead of me, more than 700 miles of nothing but open ocean. I had my lifejacket on, survival gear stashed on and within it, and the life-raft on the seat next to me. I hoped very strongly that I wouldn’t need any of it! About 50 miles out, Lombok tried to switch me onto an HF radio channel for crossing the ocean; given my lack of HF radio, this wasn’t going to happen, and I headed out into radio silence on the long crossing, alone over the Timor Sea.<\/p>\n\n\n
Final views of Lombok<\/span><\/span><\/a><\/div>Final views of Lombok<\/span><\/span><\/a><\/div>Final views of Lombok<\/span><\/span><\/a><\/div> <\/div> <\/div>\n\n\n\nThe skies were almost clear, with just the occasional fluffy cloud slipping past below me. I didn’t see a single ship; this was seriously empty ocean. Every now and then I’d call on the emergency frequency and try for a message relay, to let Bali and then Broome know that I was still in the air. Jetstar 110 was the first to help me out, and as I approached halfway Air New Zealand 281 stepped up and passed messages for me. A few miles further on, and “Border Force 11” called me up on frequency. Try as I might, despite being able to hear them, they were not able to hear my responses; eventually NZ281 stepped in to let Border Force know that I could hear them. It turned out they’d just been wanting to give me a courtesy call to say welcome! <\/p>\n\n\n
A couple of hours later, and I was in radio contact with Brisbane control. Despite Brisbane being clear across the other side of the continent, they apparently still control this part of the airspace. They gave me a new IFR clearance, directly to Broome, which was handy as that’s what I’d been flying anyway. As I drew closer I was handed over to Broome, and began my descent, spraying the second can of insecticide, the “top of descent” can, in the cabin in accordance with the instructions. I had noted down the details of the spraying, and the can serial numbers, on the special form that’s designed this.<\/p>\n\n\n
A lot of water to cross<\/span><\/span><\/a><\/div>The middle of the Timor Sea<\/span><\/span><\/a><\/div>The middle of the Timor Sea<\/span><\/span><\/a><\/div> <\/div> <\/div>\n\n\n\nWeather conditions were perfect, and the water off the beaches north of Broome was clear and sparkling. It looked idyllic! I was given a visual approach, flying a right downwind and turning back towards the northwest for my landing. A “follow-me” truck was waiting, and led me to the international arrivals pad where immigration were waiting; bio-security, however, were not. Opening the doors or windows of an aircraft is not permitted without clearance from bio-security, and it was very hot; luckily, immigration took initiative and after I held up the insecticide cans and completed form to show them, signaled that I could open up.<\/p>\n\n\n
First sight of Australia!<\/span><\/span><\/a><\/div>The coast north of Broome<\/span><\/span><\/a><\/div>Broom,e dead ahead<\/span><\/span><\/a><\/div>Beautiful coastal waters<\/span><\/span><\/a><\/div> <\/div> <\/div>\n\n\n\nThey had a quick look through the aircraft, showing interest only in the “Pilot’s nut powder” that Tom Claytor had given me in Thailand. It does not contain any nut products. We then retired to a nearby table under some shade and they had me fill in numerous forms, and chatted a little bit about my trip and my visit to Australia. They were very warm and welcoming, and before too long I was free to proceed. The follow-me truck returned and led me to a parking space, after which I decided to organise some fuel. This is where the trouble began.<\/p>\n\n\n
Arrival at Broome<\/span><\/span><\/a><\/div>Arrival at Broome<\/span><\/span><\/a><\/div>Arrival at Broome<\/span><\/span><\/a><\/div> <\/div> <\/div>\n\n\n\nSome rather over-zealous interpretation of sanctions law by the man in the BP office meant that they, the only AVGAS supplier, would not sell fuel to a foreign aircraft without clearance from head office. Head office was, at this time of day (and a couple of time zones ahead), closed. They took my details and promised to email the out of hours service, in the hope that they might be able to fuel me the following morning. This was a bit of a nonsense, and I still had a lot of fuel, so I phone up the fueler at Halls Creek. This location was also BP, and about 3 hours flight east of Broome; they reported that of course they could fill me up, no worries, too easy! With Plan B in hand, I set off to walk to the nearby “Maccas” to enjoy some wifi and a bite to eat.<\/p>\n\n\n
<\/a>Over a cheeseburger, I got the laptop out and managed to secure the last remaining private room at the nearby Kimberley Travelers Lodge, a backpacker place near the airport. After settling in to my room I hung out in the common area, planning my upcoming crossing of the Australian continent, and chatting to a few of the other guests about our travels and the best places to see. One of the guys, a French tourist, had just crossed about half of the continent on dirt roads only, which sounded like quite an adventure! Another, a Japanese lady on a long term working holiday, wanted to go to Sydney, and was quick to claim my spare copilot seat. We had the hostel arrange a taxi for the following morning (she had more luggage than I wanted to try and carry), and settled in before yet another early start the following day.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
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We were up and outside the hotel a little before our scheduled pick-up time of 0630. The guy at the Kimberley Lodge had warned us that “all taxis in this town are terrible” and, sure enough, our ride never turned up. We set out to lug the bags on the 30 minute walk to the private side of the airport; meaning we were a little late for the appointment that I’d made late the previous night with BP. They had emailed their head office, copying me, and head office had replied with words to the effect of “of course you can fuel them, you plonkers”. We topped up the wings, shoe-horned Hiyo’s bags in, and started up.<\/p>\n\n\n
On the walk to the airport<\/span><\/span><\/a><\/div>BP, finally agreeing to fuel me<\/span><\/span><\/a><\/div>My hitchhiking copilot<\/span><\/span><\/a><\/div>Departure from Broome<\/span><\/span><\/a><\/div>Final sight of the ocean<\/span><\/span><\/a><\/div>Entering the outback<\/span><\/span><\/a><\/div> <\/div> <\/div>\n\n\n\nBefore 8am, the control tower at Broome is not open, so the field was operating as an uncontrolled field. I followed another aircraft and just copied him while getting my head around the procedures, which seemed very similar to those used in the US. Not everybody wanted to use the runway in the same direction, so after the aircraft in front of us departed we waited while another took off from the other end, and set off on our way. I turned left on course, and climbed to 3,500ft. It was calm this morning, and I wanted to enjoy the views!<\/p>\n\n\n
When planning for this section of the trip, I had seen arrival in Australia as the end of the main “challenging bits”, at least regarding bureaucracy and hassle. This turned out to be correct; the Australian regulatory agency and politicians do seem to be doing their best to cause problems for pilots in general, but flying here is still much better than in most parts of the world. What I had not quite wrapped my head around, however, was the sheer size of the place; my brother helpfully sent me a picture showing Australia superimposed over the moon (Australia is bigger) to illustrate my oversight. In order to catch my 10am flight out of Sydney on Thursday morning (it was now Tuesday) I’d need to fly 18 hours over 2 days. Luckily, long distance flying is something of a specialty!<\/p>\n\n\n
Oil exploration?<\/span><\/span><\/a><\/div>Desert colours east of Broome<\/span><\/span><\/a><\/div>Cruising the outback<\/span><\/span><\/a><\/div>Outback homestead<\/span><\/span><\/a><\/div>Rugged outback terain<\/span><\/span><\/a><\/div>A small community<\/span><\/span><\/a><\/div>Dust plume<\/span><\/span><\/a><\/div>Some rare water in the desert<\/span><\/span><\/a><\/div>Fitzroy Crossing<\/span><\/span><\/a><\/div> <\/div> <\/div>\n\n\n\nWithin just a few miles, the landscape had turned arid and barren. There was very little sign of human activity, much less habitation, something that would continue with few exceptions to within a few hundred miles of the east coast. Eyes peeled in vain for kangaroos, we droned on towards Halls Creek. We could hear a King Air on frequency, announcing his progress from Broome to Fitzroy Crossing, and before long he appeared on my ADS-B screen as he overhauled us 15,000ft above. He descended ahead of us, and as we passed Fitzroy Crossing we could see him on the ground, unloading. <\/p>\n\n\n
A seasonal river valley<\/span><\/span><\/a><\/div>Homestead with private strip<\/span><\/span><\/a><\/div>Desert ridges<\/span><\/span><\/a><\/div>River valley in the outback<\/span><\/span><\/a><\/div> <\/div> <\/div>\n\n\n\nThe day was heating up fast and it started to get bumpy during the last hour towards Halls Creek. My decision to keep a couple of air sickness bags staged in the glove compartment proved prescient, as Hiyo made use of both of them; a slightly concerning start as we still had more than 15 flying hours to go. Landing direction at Halls Creek was almost in line with my existing heading, so we came straight in and rolled to a stop in front of the BP fuel pump. The attendant came out to greet us and I topped the tanks again; with vast distances between airports out here, and even vaster distances between fuel stops, the more fuel in the tanks the better. <\/p>\n\n\n
<\/a>The attendant was kind enough to drive us the few blocks into town, where we bought a few snacks, and some air-sickness tablets. The town had only about 1,500 people; he was here on a few year assignment while his wife taught at the local school. Apparently life was decent, but usually very quiet! He dropped us back at the aircraft and after the essential bathroom break, we were on our way.<\/p>\n\n\n
Departure from Halls Creek<\/span><\/span><\/a><\/div>Halls Creek<\/span><\/span><\/a><\/div>Climbing slowly to beat the turbulence<\/span><\/span><\/a><\/div> <\/div> <\/div>\n\n\n\nI climbed steadily, to try and get above the turbulence. We eventually did; at 13,500ft! High above the outback, we cruised onward, enjoying the scenery unrolling below us. While conforming entirely to the “outback” category, it was endlessly changing, much as the deserts of Saudi Arabia had been; sand dunes, river beds, rocky plateaus, hill ranges, the list goes on. My route took us direct to Alice Springs; one of very few airports along this route; the plan was to get close, and then make a decision about whether to stop, or carry on.<\/p>\n\n\n
Reservoirs, purpose unknown<\/span><\/span><\/a><\/div>Outback rock formations<\/span><\/span><\/a><\/div>A river valley peers through the haze<\/span><\/span><\/a><\/div>Mineral deposits<\/span><\/span><\/a><\/div>A tiny dirt strip in the desert<\/span><\/span><\/a><\/div>Empty, but endlessly beautiful<\/span><\/span><\/a><\/div> <\/div> <\/div>\n\n\n\nIn the event, we were both feeling fine, and decided to keep flying another few hours to the town of Birdsville. This town has a population of about 150, although in the first weekend of September about 7,000 people descend upon it for the famous “Birdsville Races”. Given that it wasn’t the first weekend in September, we were hopeful that there’d be rooms available to stay. I used the Garmin InReach to message my father, and ask him to investigate accommodation options; he found the Birdsville Hotel, right next to the airport, but wasn’t able to confirm space. We figured we’d land and try our luck.<\/p>\n\n\n
Hill ranges near Alice Springs<\/span><\/span><\/a><\/div>Alice Springs<\/span><\/span><\/a><\/div>Haze building below us<\/span><\/span><\/a><\/div> <\/div> <\/div>\n\n\n\nThe sun set slowly over the desert, and we droned onwards in the darkness. Hiyo took the opportunity to fill up a couple more air sickness bags, despite the calm air. As we approached Birdsville, I flew the GPS approach in visual conditions, to make it easier to find and line up on the airport. It was at this stage that a serious deficiency in my pre-flight preparation became apparent; in the US, one clicks the microphone 7 times on the airport frequency to remotely turn on the lights. In Australia, things are apparently different; and it was a very dark night.<\/p>\n\n\n
Sunset over central Australia<\/span><\/span><\/a><\/div>