The water tap still works. But we don't need water.

It has a number, but one would have to be very lucky to have someone passing to answer.

We see a few recent turtle tracks and nests along the way. Unlike the nests to the south of the estuary they aren't marked by rangers.

At least we find ourselves hoping it was successful. We are really getting a feel for nature ......

The walk up the dune has been a fairly gentle incline with only a little steep for the last bit. On the far side its steep as it falls away to the lagoon.

In our amateur geomorphologising we think the beach is slowly growing out to sea. The sand is full of shells, which are presumably there because they've been covered. In many places they've been uncovered again, easily mistaken for middens, though far too numerous. At the same time its possible the dune is being pushed inland by the wind. Slowly as the sand is coarse (and heavy), which creates the steep inland edge.

The formation of the dune is what traps the water that forms the lagoon. At some past time it probably drained to the river. The vegetation where it meets the river is not as tall. From our campsite we can see signs of the sand ridge meeting the river.

On Fraser Island, where different types of lake have formed, this would be termed a barrier lake.

The track is squigglier (a technical term meaning not in a straight line!) on the way in. We weren't drunk, just navigating along the top of the dune. A dune which is by no means straight, like those in the Simpson Desert, but a series of hummocks and dips and simply a broad ridge that is not in a straight line.

The red line is from our camp to partway onto mudflats to picture all the brolgas, yesterday. The blue line beyond the red line is another walk on the 20th, across the mudflats (round trip about 8.6km).

If I remember I'll also add the tracks to a satellite pic when we have internet.

As we get closer we quietly drop down off the dune. There's about 30m of large paperbarks and slightly sticky mud to then stealthily approach the edge of the lagoon.

Brolgas, ducks, egrets and short black and white birds with longish beaks.

Others followed.

To the far side of the lagoon. We refuse to call it a swamp.

These will require some serious bird book searching.

There's a large collection of white birds at the limit of binoculars and camera further north in the lagoon. On the edge of some reeds that grow across the whole lake, with more clear water beyond.

Apparently Ibis and Spoonbills are of the same family.

Its relatively shallow, though still too deep in the middle for the Ibis.

Our limited experience is that Goldilocks helps birds find just the right depth of water for the length of their legs.

Probably a young pied heron (also called white headed egret). We've also seen some adults with black caps.

After 10 years of paying attention we are slowly getting the hang of naming birds. If its black and white it may be a pied something.

But we still haven't seen any pied (also called magpie) geese. They seem to live in lagoons further from the coast, and fly across the mud bank between sites.

And if we could walk another 5km north we would reach a place called Flinders Camp. On some maps there's a vehicle track to it from the Mapoon road.

As the map shows, we headed directly to the beach then walked back on harder sand where the tide had gone out a bit.

We are aching more than a bit. Our feet are a bit sore from sand in the shoes we needed for the rougher parts, so we took the shoes off. Truck is in sight on the far side of the river.

We learn later that the answer to "where are all the small crocs?" may be that they inhabit the upper reaches of the river. Many were seen in the afternoon by our lift.

40 hp outboard makes short work of 600m of water.

Home to rest. And bake a loaf of bread. We don't carry beer, the normal currency, and have no wine. Fresh bread seems a welcome swap for a lift across the river by a couple who have spent the last 4 weeks here and have run out. Nice for us watching the slow dawning realisation that it will be fresh from baking when we deliver it in about 5 hours.  Its not often we have something to offer that people appreciate, we end our day happy.

We now know that the regulars use radio channel 21. And we know a couple of them. But of course we now have to think of leaving.

Accompanied by this male mistletoe bird that stayed long enough for the zoom on the camera to malfunction, so this is cut from a wider pic. Nice to have a pic to remind us. We saw a mistletoe bird earlier, near the lagoon on the north side, but weren't quick enough with the camera.

The pics aren't intended to win competitions, and aren't the purpose for being here. They are a reminder of the simple enjoyment of "being here".

Another morning, day 9, and I set off to the mudflats again. My track is on the map above.

The cacophony is absent this morning. Or I am late. Either way its surely a clue as to what I may find.

The small flock of pied stilts take flight. The wide open space and so many birds make it relatively easy to follow their flight with the camera.

This island in front of me is a pimple on the map.

Dingo Creek is another 2km, another hour return, and while the tide is still going out I'm unsure when low tide is. Perhaps another time. Caught by the tide on mudflats, surrounded by an impenetrable barrier of mangroves, surrounded by crocodiles, is not a desirable outcome.

It takes time to become familiar (and safe) with new surroundings. We tend to push the boundaries a little at a time.

Tomorrow we'll move back to the coast and have a last look for turtles.

We tried fishing a couple of times on a few days, but alas, we failed miserably.