First Time In Darwin: The New Continent
As I took in the sight, it was strangely normal at first. Then I realized what I was actually seeing. The desire to step onto that land skyrocketed. Those first steps would be on another continent.
How long ago it seemed when I’d first set foot on the Asian mainland. Back then, cities like Bangkok and Ho Chi Minh City gave me the most unique first impressions I’d ever known. In Asia, the wisdom that all humans are essentially the same, and want essentially the same things, was known in the greatest way. That was less than a year ago, and the ship had stopped at Bali—that Heaven-on-Earth—without going to the Northern Territory, right near the Indonesian Archipelago.
Today was different. We had headed southeast just a bit more, to Darwin City, capital of the Northern Territory. As “normal” as it looked in the humid air, I was almost doubtful at my incredible luck. A new continent…this was unreal. Christmas was approaching; ‘twas the season; it only made everything here in Australia that much better.
I was met with friends on the gangplank, too. I normally went off on my own, but to spend time with my bandmates sounded perfect. A couple of them laughed once we exited the ship, as I could hardly contain my excitement. That memory of excitement is undetailed, however. I can only recall being steeped quickly into cloudy tropical air at its best.
The Northern Territory, Australia. In my geographical naivete I was expecting a completely different climate. Never had I expected the Northern Territory to possess the same dense, sticky, colorful, Mother-Earth air I had known for the last two months. But the latitude had hardly changed! And again, Christmas was approaching—one thinks of cold when wintertime draws near. My mind and body expected a change that didn’t come.
It was offsetting to witness blocky, modern Western architecture within this atmosphere. This looked like any modern downtown area I know from California. And yet, the Earth’s breath was wet, clinging to everything around us.
What a meshing of worlds.
At some point, this meshing of worlds evolved into a more substantial balance of the familiar and the new. High-rises and small shopping centers meshed with tropical pervasiveness, and transcended their own bond, telling me about the continent: there was new ground upon which I found myself, connected to thousands and thousands more miles of new land….
Weirdly, yet pleasingly, I started feeling right at home.
My boss at the time is an Aussie, so he played a part in this excitement for sure. He’s a good friend too, so it made the situation all the more stimulating. He, I, and the rest of the group chatted sporadically as we sought out a place for lunch.
I gave the group only a little attention. My mind was abuzz otherwise. I found myself lost in sheer happiness. All the dynamics of this warm, quaint day just swirled and swirled in my mind…and suddenly, I heard a bass line in my head.
I figured out how it shaped itself: it was inspired by a bass line from the cruise director’s show we had done the night before—a 60’s pop tune, an arrangement from something Dusty Springfield sang. But wow…this line morphed into something awesome, almost immediately. And then BOOM: a drum-groove came out of nowhere, snapping itself into place with the bass line. Together, the drum-and-bass complemented the strong influence of Ben Allison’s music on me. This music was at once a soothing essence to my excitement, and a driving luminescence to my happiness. It was such a bizarre feeling, like having gentle gravity pushing you down as well as up. But the music stuck. Just like that, drum-and-bass played away in my imagination, as clear as if I were hearing it.
The melody was simple, punchy, and a bit forced onto my mental soundscape, like I felt the need to come up with a melody for this sound now, rather than later. But later, I fine-tuned it, and the emotions of the experience surrounding it. After some time I set aside my new, young creation because we found a place to eat! This day’s inevitable call increased steadily, though…. I parted ways with my friends eventually, for the need to explore was increasingly desired.
I knew there was an esplanade west of the quiet downtown area. We had passed by it earlier, and the pull of it was formidable.
I found the long, luscious, pretty park between the coast and the town. Bicentennial Park is ripe with vibrancy, a perfect representation of nature here in the Northern Territory.
It grew ever prettier from there. More-than-green life shimmered and danced all around. It all ushered forth, effortlessly, something significant from my creativity…. There was a violin. No; perhaps more of a “fiddle,” a sound that brings to mind playful, beautiful joy. “That’s it,” I remember thinking, “a waltz-like section.”
As green land and white sky met, the melody of this fiddle was jumping to and fro and danced in tandem with every other vibration around. It was just where I needed to be. Like I’d arrived at the last stop of a calming, lovely carriage-ride through town.
But from here, why leave at all?
Curiosity, as always, began conniving with the time I had. It was all well and good, for there was a red beach to see through thick trees.
The essence of the tropical weighed me down like the great confirmation it was. The Northern Territory, Australia: known, among other things, for its robust wet-and-dry seasons, and dangerous, dangerous wildlife.
Yes: we were all told not to enter the open ocean. There were signs on the street saying as much. In fact, all swimming areas were walled off by concrete jetties, or by large industrial netting. The stories were true, after all: huge Estuarine crocodiles roam these waters. They are vicious and, even scarier, intelligent.
So, that’s a freshwater crocodile in the back, for scale. This was taken at a zoo in Port Douglas…otherwise I’d have been dead years ago…. Estuarine crocs are native to Southeast Asian and Norther Australian waters, and can travel freshwater, saltwater, and land. When they move, they move fast. This thing was longer than my car. There was ample protective metal fencing and nets, but even so…ugggggh.
Oh, and if the crocodiles don’t get you, then a box jellyfish might instead. Among the most venomous marine animals in the oceans, these jellyfish are hard to see, and their stings cause heavy symptoms within minutes, including death. Suffice it to say, there are creatures in Australia that will kill you if you’re being negligent.
Like, I wonder what these two were thinking.
Oh, and what was I thinking?!
To be honest, the exposed beach didn’t occur to me until I had stepped onto the beach proper. I immediately spotted these people in the distance, thought, “wow, that’s not smart,” then thought, “…wow, what am I doing,” then left promptly from this albeit awesomely-colored beach.
Australia: the new continent under my feet, the foreshadow to brand-new adventures and, so gorgeously, the inspiration for new music.
By now, I had become expert at discovering paths to lead me farther and farther away from the ship terminal, without getting lost. Today, that path was a winding road.
But with the time I had, I felt the city’s waterfront in my memory. I’d passed right by it this morning. I had to return. So I snapped a few pictures of the golf course nearby, then retraced my steps back along these silent, quirky roads into the downtown area.
Finally I was back where I’d started. This area is the Darwin Waterfront, and it’s complete with its own (walled-off) swimming lagoon. Naturally, this attracted many of the ship’s guests and off-duty crew. I took my time with the scenery before I met up with more friends around the area. We dined at a restaurant/pub, then lounged and swam around the lagoon, where I was told by a local there are certain kinds of native fish that are dangerous in these waters, in addition to the huge crocodiles and the box jellyfish. Great. Wonderful. Fantabulous. I felt reeeeeal good about those concrete walls.
Just like the confirmation of the tropics I’d felt on the beach, this waterfront was the confirmation for Darwin as a whole—as my gateway to Australia. And there was something about this place that was tying everything together….
The Waterfront had turned up the volume on the music in my mind. The drum-and-bass, the melody, and the violin—it fused the funk groove of the city with the fiddle of the park. Boom. That was it.
On this humid, lazy, pleasant day, I was really blessed. A day like this normally strips me of my energy quickly. But if the experience is completely new, my mind gives me unlimited energy—the term “mind over matter” becomes literal. Bizarrely, I felt fine. In fact, the energy was overflowing.