A dog’s world at Goomboora Park

My dog Mallee is at the edge of what, a few days ago, was a crystal-clear, waist-high idyllic freshwater creek, and I realise I’ve made a bad mistake. A potentially fatal mistake, and one that I have been constantly warned about as I travel Far North Queensland.

Someone further south said when it comes to swimming anywhere around here, just assume every water body north of the Tropic of Capricorn is home to crocodiles.

Mallee is at the water’s edge about 1000km by road north of the Tropic of Capricorn at a now fiercely rushing, coffee-brown river that would be well over my head.

We’re at one of Cairns’ best-kept secrets — secret from many tourists at least — Goomboora Park just on the outskirts of town, sitting at the foot of the imposing Kuranda Range mountains, with Freshwater Creek snaking through it.

But despite the mighty croc-filled Barron River feeding into the creek, it’s one of the only water bodies nearly every local says is safe to swim in, and it is one of the only places you don’t see the ubiquitous crocodile warning sign.

But after the recent rain, which can flush all sorts of things down this now raging river, I’m not game to test those assurances, and I call Mallee back from the edge realising my mistake. Because those same locals always add a footnote: “Oh, but I’m always a bit wary after a big rain.”

Goomboora Park is the perfect place for people travelling with dogs, as I am, as I travel up, down and across Australia in my camper.

Just 10 minutes from the Cairns foreshore you are transported to this postcard Far North Queensland scene – walking paths enclosed in lush, green rainforest, their massive roots grasping into Freshwater Creek, the clear water effortlessly negotiating all obstacles as it gently follows the path of smooth rocky pebbles.

There are barbecues and gazebos, and a friendly dog park culture that many West Australians will be familiar with.

A few rainless days after Mallee’s near-death experience and I’m back feeling safe at the creek.

I’ve taken more local advice and walked through the middle of the creek, away from the main area to find my own little area to plunge under the clear water and find a deep water hole to throw the ball.

The dog is busy swimming against the current, trying to get the ball wedged in massive tropical tree roots as a couple of people drift by in tyre tubes, barely nodding their heads as they pass.

Again, I’m struck by that thought I often have when I’m living in a unique part of Australia — people travel so far to experience this, yet we’re just ducking in for a swim before breakfast. How lucky are we!