English version Cap 6 part 2 of An Amazing Story - A Man Called Thomas

PART TWO 

        Finally we reached the Kimberly with its high canyons divided the coastal cliffs from the flat hinterland. It was savagely beautiful. Man had hardly walked over those peaks, and the clear waters that ran below were transparent and sweet. Fish were in abundance, rich with barramundi, crabs and yabbies. It was a real Garden of Eden on earth. My excitement grew with the passing time. I had completely forgotten what day or what month it was in the civilized world. I’d never had a better experience in my life before and I wished it could never end. Summer time had come and with that the monsoon season approached. Suddenly the afternoons were very wet. I had forgotten the sergeant’s warning when I registered at the Darwin Police Station when I left. “Be sure to be in a safe place by the time the monsoons start, or else you’ll be trapped in the swamps created by the continual torrential rains.”

      In my excitement of the good new life, I had completely forgotten the warning. 

      Jolly was nervous and continually warned me, “Monsoon rains are building up, boss. We gotta get to a place to stay for a while.”

      ‘I know I love it here. Nowhere else had such rugged gorges and deep canyons, let’s stay a bit longer, Jolly. I don’t think we’ve to panic yet.’

      Having Jolly with me made me feel secure as if I had nothing to worry about. He was full of initiatives and a good provider of food. He found a grotto high enough on the side of the canyon and dry and comfortable enough to live in. He also found a secure place for our 4WD vehicle. The rain soon became torrential in the afternoons and lasted through a good part of the night. Mornings were normally clear giving us a chance to look around for provisions, mainly fishing in the waters below our cave, and the few goannas that Jolly was able to get in traps that he set up on the cliffs. Suddenly gale force winds crossed from the Indian Ocean growing in intensity. The sky was dark with clouds loaded with heavy rain.

   “Cyclone builds up.” Jolly told me, “It’s going to get stronger and wetter by the hour and could last three or four days. Don’t leave the cave, boss. It’s safer here.”

       A havoc of devastation came together with the cyclone powered by heavy gusty rain and wind bending and breaking trees. The devastation intensified rapidly around us, and I was busy documenting what nature was presenting so strongly. I knew I was documenting the fury of the storm and I was giving life to some very good photographic work. I knew instantly that my work was marketable and it would fetch good money from some of the many magazines published around the world. I couldn’t develop any film. I didn’t have the right place or the right equipment to do it. I had to wait until my return home with my photographic treasures. At that moment it was out of my thoughts. Time was non existent.

        Jolly was anxious again, “A new cyclone build ups, boss.”

        ‘He was right as usual. Just behind the first cyclone a second one was building with even stronger intensity and following an identical path to the previous one. It reached us over the Kimberly three days later. If the first had produced chaos around us, the second produced destruction that I never thought could be possible. Most of the large trees were damaged by the fury of nature. I was excited and scared. I thought, God must be furious with humanity, to let it happen.

         The flooding waters transformed that large inhabited territory into a shallow sea, where only an occasional island emerged from the muddy waters. Jolly and I were stranded in the middle of nowhere without any hope of an emergency rescue. Nobody knew exactly where we were or if we were still in the area. I was relying only on good luck and Jolly’s abilities to survive. The day that I struck the deal with him at that Mount Isa pub, had been one of the luckiest in my life and I certainly owe Jolly so much. I realise today that I couldn’t possibly have survived for months without his talents and bushman skills. It was at the end of the second week when the water started to move slowly.

        “We’ll fish and hunt soon in the canyon” Jolly predicted.

         Some hill patches started to rise on the far horizon, but it took a good month before we saw larger patches of land emerging from the flooded area. It took another two weeks before we could venture around on the nearby land. The Inland Australia hasn’t any natural drainage for water of this magnitude; therefore monsoonal rains easily cause flooding. In an average wet season the flooding is only local and temporary. What I was experiencing was something that happens once in a hundred years and flooding waters spread over the desert area for months and receded slowly into the Lake Eyre basin, the lowest point in the outback, which is fifteen metre below the normal sea level. I had witnessed on that occasion one of the largest miracles that nature offers. It was the transformation of a part of this arid desert location, one of the largest on this planet, into the greenest environment that man can dream of. Seeds transported by the winds had remained dormant in the desert for decades and finally germinated into the most luxurious vegetation with magnificent and unseen wild flowers and bushes. The flooding waters, which had washed away many fish from their natural habitat in the sweet waters at the bottom of the Kimberly, were now breeding in the large river created by the inundation which descended into the dried salty bed of Lake Eyre.

     One evening Jolly told me, “Time to pack and follow the flood. You’ll see something great, boss.’

With the running water and the fresh germinating bush-land had invited animals and birds, living along the coastal area, followed the wide muddy river into the internal lower part of Australia. Pelicans flew from nowhere, establishing a large colony in the new wetland. I witnessed this great miracle of nature that evolved in front of me over a period of time no longer than six months. The dry desert, with this miracle, had been transformed into Eden. A new paradise which had so much to offer and was so hospitable to the animals, created life where before there was only desolation with the lost sporadic kangaroo wandering around the empty abandoned land. And as a final surprise we also found a group of primitive Aboriginals.

“I go to meet them, boss. I won’t be long, just wait. ”

 Jolly was back in no time, “Can’t understand their language. You scare them. They never saw a white man.”

  ‘I got very good pictures of them and of course I documented the miracle that was evolving around me. New life was mushrooming all around from an arid desert. The misfortune gave me an incomparable gift back. I had been witness to something so unusual and rare and more importantly had been able to take photographic evidence of it. It was an exceptional opportunity that fate had deposited into my hands and that with luck and knowledge I had captured in my photos.

     We reached Port Augusta eighteen months after I left Mount Isa and time to farewell Jolly. ‘I hope to see you again.’ And with a handshake I passed him a few fifty dollars notes.

     “Thank you, boss. I’ll buy a cartoon of beer and celebrate with my family.” With those words he went without turning around.

       ‘I was in rags, and my body was lean, burned by the tropical sun. I was feverish, not because of sickness, but with anxiety to reach home and start to develop the innumerable rolls of films that luckily I had taken with me.

       It took me two more months to go through that work and then select and catalogue my work and finally to enlarge the best of those 35 mm films.

           They had reached the Opera House and sat at one of the cafes facing the harbour.

      ‘What a breathtaking adventure, Thomas. But what happened later?’

      ‘Well, one of the most popular restaurants on the Quay let me have an exhibition of my photos. I selected some of my best photographic work, representing the new life surging out from the desert. It was something that nobody had ever recorded photographically before. A journalist of The Sydney Morning Herald went there for dinner one evening. He saw my work and wrote an article about it and it was published the following Saturday. That was the beginning. It started a chain reaction. The public talked about it and parties of people went to that restaurant not only for dinner, but also to see my work. Soon after, I received invitations from a couple of Art Galleries to exhibit my photos and the signed photos sold at an extremely good price. Since then, everything has moved smoothly in the right direction.”

    “So that was how your brilliant career began.”

     ‘Just about. But of course it took years to reach the top of the ladder. Even after that I didn’t sit back on my laurels.’

     ‘I suppose it needs a lot of dedication and hard work to become famous, it doesn’t matter what the profession is. You will not believe it, but it takes dedication to become the best, even for a hostess.’

      “You got the point. In my case, since my first experience in the Australian deserts, I have been to the most arduous corners of the globe, over the Himalaya as well as in the jungles of Africa; from Patagonia into Antarctica. Through the Sahara Desert I crossed the Red Sea with a small boat into the Emirates. From China I moved to Mongolia and the Russian Republics finishing at the Arctic. This is still my life for six months of the year, portraying the life of people or natural beauties all around the world.’

    ‘So this isn’t the easiest life, I guess, but then, how do you sell your work? I suppose it costs a lot going on these expeditions?’

    ‘Well, I found this is the passion in my life in which I produce the best of what I like to do. This is the most suitable lifestyle for me. It isn’t easy and many times it’s full of danger. But I have learned a lot about survival. I’m now the most accredited photographic reporter in this field. When I return home from my trips, I organise my work in a proper manner, I write some notes and I collect it into books. You have most likely seen some yourself in libraries or bookshops. Finally the best of my photographic work is exhibited in art galleries in the major cities around the world and the enlarged signed photographs are sold to the public by famous auctioneers. My signature is worth a lot today.’

    ‘You certainly can’t handle this amount of work yourself.’

     ‘You are right there. I mainly do the photographic work. I am the artist creating it. The rest is handled with great expertise by my London agents. I only have to sign the contracts and be present at official promotional openings. I cannot tell you how it all works out, and I’m not interested. But my agent is quite clever, and I receive handsome compensation for my work.’

     ‘Thank you, Thomas for the wonderful afternoon. Unfortunately it’s time for me to go. It has been a very interesting afternoon listening to your adventures. We most likely won’t meet again, considering your frantic life, and because I will return to Brazil within a few months…’

        ‘I’m going to Japan for three months and I’m leaving within two weeks. Before that I’ll come and see you at The Brazil.’

         ‘No, please. It could disrupt the harmony of my working life and I can’t afford it. I need that money.’ Dolores rose from the chair and extending her hand to sake his, ‘It’s getting late. Thank you for your company.’