This Incredible Cruise Through The Kimberley Uncovers Ancient Stories of Stone and Sea

The Kimberley is a living archive: wild, remote and ancient. A journey to this rugged wilderness with Silversea uncovers millennia of memories.
The sunset sky is a kaleidoscope of tarnished gold and soft peach as Silversea’s Silver Cloud, my home for the next 10 days, pulls away from the pearling town of Broome/Rubibi to sail through The Kimberley to Darwin/Garramilla. I, along with a handful of the 212 passengers onboard, have found the perfect place to watch the mangroves and mudflats – teeming with birdlife – disappear into the distance. Up on the open-air balconies of deck nine, overlooking the pool, we clink our champagne glasses as we begin this life-changing voyage.

“Is that… a diver?” I exclaim, as a smooth grey shape that looks like a head inside a wetsuit hood appears for half a second. The figure emerges from beneath the waves that wash and ripple at Montgomery Reef, an astonishing phenomenon about 20 kilometres from the mainland, rising and disappearing with the tides. Our Zodiac pilot, Julia, who specialises in marine biology, raises an eyebrow. “You may have just seen a dugong,” she says.
Somehow, my eyes had been on the exact right bit of water, at the exact right time. On land, the hiking community calls moments like this “trail magic”. Out here, I feel like I’ve been touched by the good spirits found in every pocket of these red-earthed, saltwater lands.

On the following day, our Zodiacs churn through opal-blue waters before arriving at Freshwater Cove – known to the Worrorra people as Wijingarra Butt Butt, which describes a spotted quoll shaking off its spots to form the water and land. Our guide, Ben, who grew up in the Top End, leads us through the scrublands to what’s known as Cyclone Cave. He walks barefoot, his feet toughened by a childhood of running through the bush, connecting directly to the Earth. We’re also joined by Worrorra guide Neil Maru, who explains some of the art stories of this cave: the owls, fish and stingrays, which swirl around depictions of cyclones and storms, drawn in ochre and clay. “We’re very lucky to be able to come to these sacred lands,” expedition leader Peter Bergman tells us onboard later that day.
It’s a clear blue day when we set out to explore King George River and I’ve lucked out by snagging the first Zodiac launch of the morning. Helmed by geologist Graeme Hillary, we slice through the still waters. The colours look like the temperature gauge on a thermometer: pale blue water, climbing to rocks made of purple manganese and burnt crimson iron oxide. We watch the light splash onto the Jenga towers of geometric geology that line the river’s entrance; wrinkles of grey rock that look like an elephant’s brow, pale lattices of honeycomb tafoni.
A jolt of electric blue flashes across the shoreline: the wings of a sacred kingfisher. A pair of short-eared rock wallabies appear, bouncing through the undergrowth. A massive crocodile has found the perfect place to sun himself: a small sandy island that’s barely larger than he is. He sprawls motionless, jaws opened, with the sun glinting off his menacing teeth. The textures, shapes and contrasts look like they belong in an art gallery. Sitting next to me is Shelley from the Gold Coast, who explains that part of the reason she wanted to come to the Kimberley was to aid her work as an artist. “The water and the landscapes have inspired me so much,” she says.

I’m thrilled to have her artistic eye later when she takes a photo of me as Hillary steers our craft underneath the towering twin cascades of the King George Falls. The image shows me yelling with delight, my eyes squeezed tightly shut, as the icy water thunders onto my sun-warmed skin.
Onboard, the voyage has moments that feel decadent and plush. My allocated butler, Suraj, surprises me with thoughtful touches like fragrant lavender bath salts in my Vista Suite after a day in the wilderness. At this stateroom level there are no balconies (they’re reserved for top-tier suites) but most afternoons I rest on the sofa and snack on caviar in front of my large picture windows.

A highlight meal is a night of fantasy French cuisine at the extravagant La Dame restaurant, which includes a luxurious lobster salad and Perigord duck breast. It’s tempting to stay put but the remote outback town of Wyndham, a unique stop that few larger cruise ships include on their Kimberley itineraries, is calling.
We arrive by bus at 283,000-hectare cattle property El Questro Station just in time for a proper Kimberley lunch of barramundi and chips, before we tumble into an open-sided truck with our guide, Dan, to go exploring. The colours out here are softer than you might expect from such harsh terrain. The rocks are chalky shades of peach and lavender, the grasses a pale toasty brown, while butter-yellow flowers sprout from the kapok trees. We pause to sample Rosella blossoms and smell the aroma of turkey bush flowers – “bushman’s deodorant,” says Dan, showing us how its strong, sweet scent eliminates even the muskiest odour.
Finally, we come to the top of a hill and climb out of the truck as the golden afternoon sun plays off the endless tracts of eucalypts. I realise that I’m looking at land that is a staggering two billion years old and it’s a sight I won’t forget. The Kimberley stays with you long after you leave – ancient and sacred and still.
