![\"Kakadu](\"https:\/\/s1.at.atcdn.net\/wp-content\/uploads\/2017\/06\/7517ATKakadu_1000x584px2.png\")
Peering at Motor Car Falls atop a giant boulder (photo: Jennifer Pinkerton).<\/p><\/div>\n
I\u2019m midway along the 7.5-kilometre loop walk to Motor Car Falls in the southern part of the park. I\u2019m soaked and quietly freaking out about my camera getting drenched, despite its position six layers deep in my backpack. But I feel high. Ecstatic even. What\u2019s wrong with me?<\/p>\n\n
During the wet season, which descends on the Northern Territory\u2019s Top End between November and April, Kakadu National Park \u2013 150 kilometres east of Darwin \u2013 is inhospitable.<\/p>\n\n
Or so the grapevine holds.<\/p>\n\n
This idea has clung to the collective travellers\u2019 consciousness with tenacity. Roads that cut through Kakadu, Australia\u2019s largest terrestrial national park, are clear, hotels yawn with extra space, and friends further south sound perplexed when I tell them where I\u2019m headed. \u201cIsn\u2019t it rained out there? Is it even open?\u201d<\/p>\n\n
Kakadu, in fact, stays open all year round. And while access to some sites is affected by rain and many waterholes remain un-swimmable, there\u2019s no shortage of things to do while those prayer necklaces in the clouds sporadically scatter beads.<\/p>\n\n
![\"Kakadu](\"https:\/\/s1.at.atcdn.net\/wp-content\/uploads\/2017\/06\/7517ATKakadu_1000x584px3-1.jpg\")
Yellow Water in wet-season mode (photo: Jennifer Pinkerton).<\/p><\/div>\n
I\u2019m here to scratch at the adage that the park is a lesser beauty in the wet than it is during the dry season and discover what holds true.<\/p>\n\n
Prior to hitting Kakadu\u2019s walks and waterfalls to find answers for myself, however, I put a call in to one of the park\u2019s Indigenous traditional owners. \u201cMy name is Bessie Coleman,\u201d she says. \u201cI\u2019m a bush baby and I speak for three clans in the southern part of Kakadu. These are the Jawoyn, Bolmo and Matjba.\u201d<\/p>\n\n
Bessie is in her early sixties. She\u2019s one of 13 siblings born at Old Goodparla Homestead near Kakadu\u2019s Yellow Water Billabong. When we connect, Bessie has just come inside after being out with rangers. Given all the rain around, new flora has sprung forth and the team is busy wrestling with weeds. \u201cWe look for plants that are not native,\u201d she says. \u201cWe find gamba grass, bellyache bush and rubber plant \u2013 that last one has thorns that can cut your feet if you walk on it.\u201d<\/p>\n\n
As well as weeding, during the wet season Bessie fishes and takes walks around Motor Car Creek, usually with a male relative to guide her. There\u2019s rock art in the area\u2019s hills \u2013 \u201cmen\u2019s business,\u201d she says \u2013 and women have to be careful to steer clear. Luckily, there\u2019s plenty for her to see on ground level. This time of year, she says, is her favourite time of all.<\/p>\n\n
\u201cWhen the wet arrives, Kakadu comes alive,\u201d she says. \u201cThere are animals everywhere. Wild berries, plums, bush potatoes and little fruits come up \u2013 red apples, white apples, everything comes alive. When the storms come, they clean out all the creek and river systems. Then the fish come up.\u201d<\/p>\n\n
I ask what she\u2019d say to those travellers who only want to visit during the dry. Bessie answers firmly. \u201cI\u2019d tell \u2019em they\u2019d be missing the best part.\u201d<\/p>\n
![\"Kakadu](\"https:\/\/s1.at.atcdn.net\/wp-content\/uploads\/2017\/06\/7517ATKakadu_1000x584px6.png\")
Walking the Tirmikmik trail to Motor Car Falls (photo: Jennifer Pinkerton).<\/p><\/div>\n
Walking in waterfall country<\/h2>\n
Recalling her words a few days later, as I stand soaked and stressed about my camera, I have mixed feelings as to whether or not she\u2019s right. A parade of gnarly horse-flies have feasted on my legs, my hat is heavy with moisture and I have a kilometre or so to go until I reach Motor Car Falls. I look for cover. There\u2019s none to be found.<\/p>\n\n
Frankly, I\u2019m surprised. I expected Kakadu, especially in the wet, to be one dense thicket of trees and grass \u2013 genuine, proper jungle.<\/p>\n\n
\u201cYou OK there?\u201d shouts a passing traveller. \u201cWill be once I reach the falls,\u201d I reply, wiping my sunnies to see him. Pete is from Alice Springs. He\u2019s staying at Cooinda Lodge, located on Yellow Water Billabong.<\/p>\n\n
\u201cYeah, I thought I\u2019d be bush-bashing all the way to the falls,\u201d he says. \u201cBut instead, the landscape is so open and exposed. It\u2019s such a super-charged shade of green, too.\u201d<\/p>\n\n
He\u2019s right. The green that engulfs us is neon. And while the walk starts on a rickety footbridge, it soon transforms into corridors of spear grass, and then into rocky outcrops flanked by hills.\u00a0Though knee-height right now, the spear grass will grow taller than a human \u2013 though it doesn\u2019t stay upright for long.<\/p>\n\n
\u2018Knock-\u2019em-down\u2019 is the name given to the current season by Jawoyn people, Bessie had explained, noting there are six seasons in her calendar altogether, and this is when the grass is flattened.<\/p>\n\n
I bid Pete farewell and push on to the falls. Water pools inside my shirt and my pants adhere to my skin. In the midst of all this indignity, though, there is something about the rain\u2019s intensity that has buoyed my mood \u2013 that odd ecstatic feeling I mentioned earlier.<\/p>\n\n
I\u2019m physically uncomfortable, yet strangely at peace. The storm brings with it a reminder of nature\u2019s might. I\u2019m acutely aware of being alive: a realisation that\u2019s hit at the exact moment my photography gear might be deemed cactus. Ace.<\/p>\n
![\"Kakadu](\"https:\/\/s1.at.atcdn.net\/wp-content\/uploads\/2017\/06\/7517ATKakadu_HeroImage_1000x584px.png\")
A blue-sky moment at Motor Car Falls (photo: Jennifer Pinkerton).<\/p><\/div>\n
Finally, a sign directs me to Motor Car Falls. I barrel along a narrow track just as the clouds open up. \u201cHoly wow,\u201d I whisper, stepping onto flat rock to view a fan-shaped sash of water careen down the cliff face. Mist floats off the pool\u2019s surface like chiffon.<\/p>\n\n
I imagine I\u2019m a tiny, frozen figurine trapped in a terrarium. This spot, a million miles from urban life \u2013 and uninterrupted by the presence of other tourists \u2013 feels as if it\u2019s a paradise lost and found.<\/p>\n\n
I burrow through my backpack, cross my fingers, and extract the camera. It\u2019s wet but it works. I take my lens off, let the condensation clear, then snap away in celebration. When I return to the trail, my sopping boots carry me back to the car park where my mind drifts to hot showers, fluffy towels and solid sleep.<\/p>\n\n
Back at Kakadu\u2019s \u2018Croc Hotel\u2019 (it\u2019s shaped like a giant saltie), I manage the first two goals, but save sleep for later. I\u2019ve booked a late afternoon scenic flight to better map the park in my mind.<\/p>\n
Flying through stone country<\/h2>\n
My pilot, 26-year-old Anthony agrees with Bessie that the wet season is the best time of year to be here. \u201cYou get to see the waterfalls in full flow, and that\u2019s pretty epic.\u201d<\/p>\n\n
I assume shotgun position beside him and soon we\u2019re gliding above my hotel. \u201cIts \u2018eyes\u2019 turn red at night,\u201d he says, pointing to the yellow lights on the building\u2019s roof \u2013 another kitsch flourish from the town\u2019s resident croc.<\/p>\n\n
Leaving Jabiru in our wake, we trail along a green valley. Clouds cast shadows over the land in cookie-cutter shapes. Streams snake through trees that resemble broccoli florets. So far, so flat.\u00a0Then the escarpments appear. In orangey coral columns, these sit tall above the country\u2019s floor like teeth or giant thrones. They\u2019re breathtaking. I can sense Kakadu\u2019s seduction routine starting up all over again.<\/p>\n
![\"Kakadu](\"https:\/\/s1.at.atcdn.net\/wp-content\/uploads\/2017\/06\/7517ATKakadu_1000x584px5-1.jpg\")
A wet-season treat, witnessing the thundering fin fin Falls from the air (photo: Jennifer Pinkerton).<\/p><\/div>\n
Our plane circles Twin, Jim Jim and Gunlom Falls. Each gushes white water. Over the engine noise I shout: \u201cThe park doesn\u2019t look as wild from up here; it\u2019s so serene!\u201d\u00a0Anthony nods and points at Gunlom, where a landing strip sits away from the falls \u2013 built to accommodate the Crocodile Dundee film crew.<\/p>\n\n
I\u2019m reminded of my chat with Bessie. She\u2019d mentioned that very crew and said they respectfully worked with Kakadu\u2019s Indigenous elders. \u201cWe want more movie-makers to come and see our beautiful place, see how we do things,\u201d she\u2019d said.<\/p>\n\n
Our plane heads north to stone country, where the escarpments again shift in appearance.<\/p>\n
![\"Kakadu](\"https:\/\/s1.at.atcdn.net\/wp-content\/uploads\/2017\/06\/7517ATKakadu_1000x584px4.png\")
The stone country of Arnhem land (photo: Jennifer Pinkerton).<\/p><\/div>\n
They\u2019re lumpy and sculptural. Tear-shaped boulders balance beside crumbling rocks shaped like fingers. Again, I\u2019m struck by the fact Kakadu contains all six of the Top End\u2019s ecosystems: as well as stone country, there are wetlands, savanna woodlands, tidal flats, hills and basins, and floodplains.<\/p>\n\n
We drop down to the ground, and soon, when the croc hotel\u2019s eyes flicker red, I drop into bed.\u00a0It\u2019s a good thing I do. At 5:15am, the alarm sounds to ready me for the final leg of my wet-season exploration mission: a sunrise cruise at Yellow Water Billabong, 30 minutes south.<\/p>\n
Cruising in wetlands country<\/h2>\n
The sight of the creek \u2013 a calm, ice-blue mirror that on its face reflects paperbark trees \u2013 dissolves any residual resentment about my early rise.\u00a0Local cruise captain, Donny, is the son of a traditional owner. \u201cSee those teeth marks on the buoy over there? They\u2019re from crocodiles. Let\u2019s just say I recommend you all stay in the boat.\u201d<\/p>\n\n
He steers us into a paperbark forest. Branches poke into the cabin and things start to feel intrepid. A freshwater croc slinks by, and, at last, I see the Kakadu I\u2019d first imagined: my waterlogged jungle, a tangled mess of branches, beasts and nests.<\/p>\n\n
As we exit the forest and enter the plains, steely clouds collect above. \u201cThe rains are coming,\u201d Donny says wryly. The sky loses colour, the paperbarks bend in the wind and the water\u2019s surface grows spiky. A sea eagle and two jabirus glide past en route to more peaceful territory.<\/p>\n\n
As fellow passengers coo in delight, I put my camera away. When I do, Bessie\u2019s voice is with me.\u00a0\u201cIn wet season I love just to sit and look at the\u00a0lightning, waterfalls and systems,\u201d she\u2019d said. \u201cPeople want to see breathtaking things here, but\u00a0remember to listen to the stories, too. Respect\u00a0the earth, the country and its spirit. See\u00a0birds and wildlife. Be quiet and watch.\u201d<\/p>\n\n
I\u2019m still. My eyes and ears are open. And as more\u00a0prayer beads begin to dance sideways into the\u00a0boat, I know I\u2019ve fallen for wet season \u2013 with all its mad, monsoonal magic.<\/p>\n
Kakadu in the Wet Season details<\/h2>\n
Getting there:\u00a0<\/strong>From Darwin, drive 250 kilometres east along the Arnhem Highway to Jabiru in the park\u2019s northern corner.<\/p>\n Playing there:\u00a0<\/strong>Kakadu Air<\/a>\u00a0and The Scenic Flight Company<\/a> operate scenic flights during the wet season. For a complete list of scenic flight operators, check out northernterritory.com’s Kakadu Scenic Flights page<\/a>.<\/p>\n Yellow Water Cruises<\/a> offer year-round cruises through Yellow Water Billabong wetlands.<\/p>\n Staying there:\u00a0<\/strong>Bed down at Jabiru\u2019s 100 per cent Indigenous-owned Mercure Kakadu Crocodile Hotel<\/a>, shaped like a giant saltwater croc.<\/p>\n More?<\/strong> Check out our Kakadu FAQs<\/a> for the more on the wet and other tips and tricks<\/p>\n