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Dr Konrad Fischer mounting his camel Euca
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Tom Beckers took me for an eight days trek in the Great Sandy Desert with six of his Camels: Mel, Euca, Pumpkin, Bauy, Atlas and pregnant Sweetlips - all of them portrayed on his website www.udialla.com.au. Mel, with Tom, took the lead. I rode Euca, usually at a distance from the tail of
the caravan, yielding to his continuous grazing on the way. Pumpkin, Bauy and Atlas carried all the equipment, which was elaborately chosen to make the safari almost luxurious: carefully arranged cooking utensils; sleeping-bags with linen and soft blankets, giving the comfort of a bed; dome-shaped transparent tents, which allowed the
unhindered sight of the star studded sky; and ten black waterbags, which soon would become as precious as gold. Moreover, the camelman's puppy dog Snif was enthroned on one of the camels in an open plastic box, well sheltered with a canvas from the scorching sun. |
The camels look wise and they are entirely dependable. One would never guess that Tom actually caught them wild in the desert and tamed them over the years. He crafted the entire gear all by himself; he cured the skin of a cow to sew the saddlebags; and he traveled to a remote camel market in Rajasthan to find
the very saddles he had been looking for.
We set out on our safari 100 kilometres east of Broome, the Camelman navigating with his compass through the pathless bush, passing innumerable anthills and occasional boab trees, hundreds of years old, with trunks the size of a small house. For eight days, we walked in an immense solitude with no human tracks and not a trace of litter. The
only sounds were the often humanlike whistles of invisible birds. The camels emerged as a wonder, beautifully designed for the desert strains, treading with dignity, never diverted by the often thorny under-growth. After several days without water, they did not show the slightest signs of greed when approaching a first wet creek. In the evening
of the fourth day we came to the pure and noble Fitzroy River. After dark, the camelman made the eyes of the crocodiles reflect in the beam of his headlight, creating an almost personal relationship to them.
After setting up camp, the camelman turned into a skilful cook, shaping the embers of the blazing fire to little platforms on which he prepared the most delicious dinners. In the mornings, he revived his guest with a variety of solid breakfasts. It is impossible to give the camelman a hand: He is thoroughly organized, and nothing in his work is
left to chance. The loads of the camels require a delicate balance, which a layman never could achieve.
For the last two nights we were joined by the camelman's wife Judy Prosser. She is a passionate artist, painting the flaming desert, its spiritual birds, the fragile elegance of the Aboriginals and the healing blue of the desert lakes. Both, Tom and Judy, are carried by unconditional love.
I know that these eight days have given me some of the best of Australia's essence.
 Konrad Fischer
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