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Darcy Crocodile or North Australia Hunt

Carpentaria Bay is famous not only for its deserted nature and wild morals. This is the only region of the country where the natives make up a good half of the population. But most importantly – here is a paradise for crocodile hunters.
“Clancy drove the flock to Queensland, and we don’t know where he is,” says the famous Australian ballad. And it’s easy to see why no one knows about Clancy. Queensland is a large state, almost a whole country, the vast expanses of which are covered with dust and ridges, dried rivers and spilled channels.

Crocodile Darcy or hunting in northern Australia Maybe Klensi grazes his cattle even today, or drives him from Barkley Tab Land to Mount Isa. These places are the real Australian outback. There is no railway on this way, and visitors are looked at as aliens who have landed. In any case, Klensi will not make the mistake made by the once visiting Englishman, who stopped in the area of ​​the Gulf of Carpentaria at a rural zucchini to quench his thirst. The owner put him a bottle of beer, cleverly pulling out the cork with his teeth. The Englishman asked for a glass. Surprisingly looking the stranger from head to toe, the owner asked: “I wonder what fairy tale you came from, buddy?”

Australian outback

Carpentaria Bay is famous not only for its deserted nature and wild morals. This is the only region of the country where the natives make up a good half of the population. But most importantly – here is a paradise for crocodile hunters.

In this direction we set off. After a short gathering, the car was loaded, and the journey began. The body of the old “Land Rover” was stuffed with things so that there was absolutely nowhere to turn. But on hand was everything that could be hastily needed – from anti-snake serum to cans with brake fluid. Road maps for all of Australia and New Guinea, a thick notebook for diaries, rags for wiping the windshield, foot rugs and a box of orange juice.

When we arrived in Burketown, Australia’s truly wild outback, we were recommended to a local Darcy as the best professional Queensland crocodile hunter. His return from the hunt was to happen in two days.

The rule

Crocodile hunting is limited. There are cruel quotas and deadlines – you can shoot at them only in September and October. As a rule, there are several guides for tourist hunters – an aborigine who knows the habits of animals, a hunter with a license, and sometimes a guide who speaks Russian. Documents are issued for the killed beast, allowing them to remove the trophy from Australia and bring it to Russia.

A week before our arrival, in the bar where we whiled away, an auditor from Sydney appeared. He was sent to check the licenses for shooting crocodiles. It is said that when he entered the institution, he noticed in a corner a man who was stretched to his full height.
“Yes, you are doing a good job here,” he remarked to one of the visitors. “If this had happened in Sydney, someone would have called the police.”
“And this is the local policeman,” was the answer.

Harpoon Darcy

Darcy showed up, as expected, two days later and eagerly agreed to take us with him that evening to the Nicholson River. He had a large Blitz army truck littered with bags, barrels, and crates. All the cargo, except for the fragile-looking boat made of glued plywood, resembled a pile of garbage that they were going to take to a landfill.

We “sailed” behind him in a huge cloud of dust until the river bank appeared, overgrown with reeds and sedge. A real crocodile kingdom with mysterious dark whirlpools and trees bending over the water.

Helping Darcy unload the car, I was horrified to see his equipment! The hunter pulled out two rusted rifles, the gates of which were so clogged that they could hardly turn. He leaned them against a tree, one fell into the mud and lay there until I stealthily picked it up and examined it. I never considered myself a specialist in weapons, but I could not imagine how to hunt with such scrap metal. Darcy pulled out a knife and stuck it in the ground near the guns. The knife was quite sharp, but small and hardly suitable for reprisal against those huge, ferocious crocodiles that we had heard so much about. Then Darcy pulled out a small lamp that was attached to his forehead with elastic tape. Does he really want to blind alligators with her? .. Then the hunter dropped a pile of ropes from the truck and began to unravel them. Among the ropes, I saw a rusted steel rod ten centimeters long with a large flat jagged tip at one end.

Darcy looked up and looked at me.
– If you want to become a crocodile hunter, you must learn to own this thing. This is my harpoon.
He took out a straight five-meter shaft. A shark hook was tied to its thin end.
“This is a hook to raise the crocodile from the bottom if the place is not very deep,” he explained. – The killed crocodile immediately sinks. Therefore, you need to shoot from a very close range and quickly cling to the crocodile leg or mouth.

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