Expedition Reports

Details

Created: 01 February 2006

Location: Scotts Head, New South Wales

Date: March, 2001

An encounter report was received in March 2001 involving a couple who had moved into a house on Acreage in bushland South of Coffs Harbour. The couple had lived at the premises, for only two weeks prior to contacting us, and were clearly scared for their safety due to 'something' stalking their house each night.

Neither of the residents knew much about the Yowie or what it actually was, in fact they were both firm "non-believers" until the second night after their initial arrival. As with most first time witnesses, 60% had never heard of such a creature and 80% are sceptical.

This investigation lead us to a different picture than we had first anticipated.

Although we were contacted on the Monday, the team couldn't respond until the Friday due to daytime work commitments. The encounters seemed hot and the witnesses very frightened, but seemingly rational.

The team arrived at 4pm on the Friday after a 6 hour drive south, stopping only once at Macksville for supplies.

We met the residents, who again seemed very reasonable and rational people. They walked us around the property explaining their problem, pointing to the various areas of interest and re-enacting previous encounters.

Only a few days after moving into the house, they were apparently being harassed by a 'creature unknown' that paced the veranda at 2am each morning, breathing heavily and occasionally screaming outside the windows, sending chills and fear into them both.

They lay still in their bed listening to the sturdy veranda floor boards twist and warp under the weight of each foot step as the creature cased the windows and doors. It didn't end there. Large rocks were reported to have been thrown on the roof in the dead of the night and their normally fearless Terrier refused to stay outside at night.

The horses in the top paddock also appeared stressed once it became dusk and they ritually and nervously made their way to the bottom end of the field, close to the house. Once dark, the dog would wine and hide, cowering in fear.

Both residents were clearly stressed and exhausted by the previous 3 weeks of little sleep.

In an attempt to find answers one night, they lay flour across the veranda close to their bedroom door. A print was found the next morning, however the next night's rain turned the flour to virtual rock.

In a desperate attempt to make sense of it all one night, the resident, after waiting up for the visitor, turned the porch light on when he heard the creature on the veranda. The creature dived off the balcony breaking the small palm tree on its way.

On a separate night he waited with a friend at the window and they both claim to have witnessed a large dark figure appear by the wire fence at the back of the yard, only to disappear again behind the garden. It was at this point when they decided to contact the AYR via the GCBRO website.

Our first task of the operation was to set up an electric trip wire surrounding the parameter of the property which Trevor had pre-made prior to the journey. As the investigation began, Ashley worked on the camera surveillance, while Steve buried cables in the lawn for the backyard camera that faced back towards the veranda.

Four cameras plus infra red was put in place, along with a VCR and monitor in the bedroom. A panic switch which let of a high decibel siren was added incase they felt under threat.

Once 60% of the equipment was et in place, Steve geared up for a perimeter check of the property and surrounding bushland while everything back at the house was made ready for the first night of surveillance.

During the process of finishing the install, Steve radioed in with a report of a man-made dwelling approximately 150m on the other side of the fence line, which was set in the heavy forest that surrounded most of the property.

As dusk fell on the first night, all team members were confined to the house with an allocated vantage point. The main problem with being confined indoors at this house was the fact that any movement at all resulted in heavy creaking of the old wooden floor boards, that made it very difficult to move around without being heard.

My first observation when we arrived was the house had no curtains. Basically every room of the house was visible from outside, especially at night - including the bedroom and bathroom.

At approximately 7-8pm, we had a security breach. The parameter trip sensor had been activated and everyone rushed to the monitor. I was in the front bedroom at the time when the I heard the resident comment, "What is Dean doing outside, is that Dean?". A figure was seen on the monitor at the rear of the house, then promptly disappeared, and it certainly was not I.

When the tape was played back as confirmation, we noted an important point for the future - someone should press the record button earlier on. Another law from Murphy struck hard...

Unhappy with not recording the footage, and against popular opinion, I rushed outside and into the backyard for a visual of the intruder. I found where the breach occurred and followed foot impressions through the backyard to the side of the property. A very large spider wed approximately 1m wide had been freshly walked through and the tracks lead into the banana plantation over the fence.

I had already formed an opinion by this stage, and the pieces were slowly being pieced together. During the night there was very little movement around the house, although the occasional nut from tree branches above the bedroom fell, then skidded sideways from the corrugation of the tin roof. Not surprisingly, I felt this was the noise that the residents had described as the mystery "rock throwing".

The Terrier was in the house and certainly refused to stay outside, however I observed the fact that this dog showed a deep fear of basically anything, including the owner. I feel that it would have been scared of a domestic cat if one ventured into the yard, and on the basis of it being a cowardly character, I disregarded the notion that it was freaked by a lurking "Hominid", but more so scared of the dark.

The horses came to the lower fence line near the house as described by the residents, but again I feel that this is where they came each night regardless and where they are more than likely used to be fed there rather than being driven there by fear.

Each time one of our team moved in the house during the night, the old wooden floor boards amplified the movements and it became impossible to remain quiet. The best option in my mind was to sleep by the windows, thus quietening down the unusual and excess noise.

According to the residents, this was the first full night sleep they had in weeks, secure in the knowledge that they were being fully guarded by people and equipment.

I woke several times during the night to check the yard for movement, but nothing stepped on the veranda or tripped the sensors. It was an uneventful night.

The next morning Preacher and John (ex-military) arrived early. Steve and Trevor disappeared on bushland search for evidence, as Ashley (AYR), made the finishing adjustments on the equipment. I searched the muddy back-lots of the property boundary for prints, but found very little that could be considered as "concrete".

After Preacher and John were briefed on situation, they moved out into the surrounding bushland.

I contacted Steve on the radio to find the track entrance that lead to the mystery dwelling that he found the previous afternoon.

At the bottom end of the property on the opposite side of the fence line, I found the track. It was very well used and resembled a typical human walking track that you might find in a national Park. I noted markings and breaks on trees as I made my way up the slight hill through the bush. It was obvious to me that this track was/is being used more than regularly.

I found my way to the hut, suspicious as to why the track led back to the property. My initial thoughts of the structure, was that it resembled a council dwelling, as it was very well made and established.

Stolen council signs adorned the hut both externally and within. Outdoor chairs were by the door, along with a table and various pieces of rubbish which had been recently used.

The hut itself was comfortably furnished and evidence of drug use was abundant. Typical signs of teenagers, was apparent, and it was obvious that whoever used this hut felt rather secure and had no fear or problems of it being discovered. It was also obvious that it was still being used on a regular basis.

While in the hut, Ashley (AYR), radioed with information regarding teenagers in the area pertaining to some correlation with the neighbours. Steve and Trevor then reported in concerning a Marijuana plantation they had stumbled across after they had left the hut an hour prior to my arrival at the site.

As quickly as that message came through, Preacher and John ordered complete radio silence. I met up with Preacher and John in the forest, who were very unhappy with the radio feeds. They mentioned that anyone could be listening to our communications and more to the point, there was a radio back in the house. It was unwise to broadcast information at this stage due to the nature of the finds and at that stage we couldn't rule out the involvement of the residents themselves. The picture was now becoming far more involved than we imagined, and it was now time to get serious.

Ashley (AYR) secured the spare radio at the house, while myself, Preacher and John changed to a secure channel.

At this stage the focus of the operation turned from a potential Yowie related matter to an investigation to find the facts behind something a little more sinister, a human related problem.

We now had to re-focus all our attention to the human related signs in the surrounding forest. We now needed to investigate any evidence linking the drugs to the property, the residents, owners of the property or neighbours. We had to get to the bottom of case and find the facts behind what was "really" going on out here. We had to find out who the 'suspected' teenagers were, where they came from and why the residents have been 'allegedly' targeted, and indeed "IF" they were really targeted at all, or if they were somehow involved in any way?

I cautiously made my way to the bordering fence line and slowly worked along the parameter, following any tracks I could find that lead from the boundary into the bush. It wasn't long before I found another plantation.

Steve and Trevor then radioed with details on another main 'mother plantation' they located. I discovered various pots and fertilizer which lead me to my second crop. All indications at this time showed a direct involvement with the property. Whoever was servicing these plants entered the area from the horse paddock at the higher end towards the back of the land.

Beyond the fence line at the top of the paddocks, the bush became thick and resembling more of a Jungle atmosphere. It was at this point where it seemed unlikely any of the locals venture. It turned to overgrown valleys and peaks. The Lantana gripped the landscape and consumed much of the native foliage. There were very few tracks or trails, and I found myself gently 'cutting' my way through until I found the odd opening where I could walk more freely.

After a further hour of hiking into the more mountainous terrain, I found my way to the top of a hill, then sat against a tree stump to rest and assess the morning finds. I thought of each and every possibility and had reached some firm conclusions. The thought of "Yowie" was now far from my mind, and whatever the case may have been, the fact remained that the residents may have been in danger.

The thought that they simply called us out as Vigilantes, and using the story of a Yowie to secure us, did cross my mind. I decided to tackle this question head-on when I returned to the house. It was time for them to be straight with us and provide a more accurate picture, but this conversation would have to be held in private.

They seemed to be good people and I knew either way the story may head, the team would still work towards helping them in anyway they can.

I got to my feet, picked up my backpack and radio. I suddenly froze in a mid-stoop position, staring at the ground.

I was confronted with a clear footprint. Not a shoe print, but a bare foot measuring close to 12 x 6.5", and all five toes were apparent. Although the print had been slightly rain-washed, it was cemented like rock in what was once thick mud beside the stump only inches from where I sat. Beside this clear print of a left foot, was another print - a right foot.

The story of this expedition took yet another unexpected twist. My adrenaline levels rose and I found evidence of more, but less clear prints around the old tree stump. Due to low light levels under the forest canopy, it was difficult to produce enough contrast on my video camera to do the prints justice.

I knew very well that these inhospitable conditions were no place for a person to be aimlessly wandering around without shoes, and above all, they 'certainly' were not the shape of the average human foot. These were strong evidence of a hairy man in the area.

Documenting my thoughts and feelings on video, I continued on taking more notice of what could now potentially be Yowie related signs. I stated on the video that "I now believed we were dealing on a two fold situation where there is human involvement at play and also a possible hairy-man occasionally roaming the property.

After I climbed the back boundary fence and entered the property on my return, Preacher and John radioed for me to 'lay low'. I lay still on the ground in thick grass wondering what was happening? Peering down the hill towards the house I could see people at the lower fence, looking through binoculars at the forest 70m to my right.

Preacher radioed for me to slowly make my way to the side fence close to the bush line. Once at the fence via Preacher and John's guidance, I worked my way through, then hid behind a log within the forest tree line.

The synopsis on the situation was that a figure has been sighted in the bush line and the crew below were tracking it when I came into view. They were unsure whether the figure was either a hominid or human, however the vibe was that it appeared to be large.
Funnily enough, at this stage I thought both Preacher and John were in the bush ahead of me and were guiding me to their position, but I couldn't find them. They were among the crew down below. Feeling protected/covered by Preacher and John's 'resources' (which again, thought was close by), I crawled painstakingly slowly on my stomach to where the figure was last sighted. I sat there for approximately 30 minutes, however not a twig broke and there was no sign of any intruder.

Soon after returning to the house, I then returned to the hut with Ashley (AYR) who was still yet to see it. Following various surrounding tracks, we also stumbled upon the main plantation.

Before dusk, back at the house, I led the resident aside for a talk in the barn. Feeling there was a degree of deception in the air, I was in no mood for games. I painted a picture of what was happening around them without their knowledge, then produced a scenario in which 'he' was directly implicated with the plantations.

I harshly pursued a confession for quite sometime, however the true astonishment in his eyes regarding my take on the situation was convincing enough to rule the residents out of the equation. Added to that, he called for his partner to listen to what we discovered.

The Verdict:

The residents moved into this house 3 weeks ago. Their goal was to run a Childcare business from home and live an open lifestyle on a semi rural property.

They knew little about the owners who occupied the house for the past 17 years. During the background check, the resident discovered the son of the Owners also had a friend of the same age who lives/d in the house next door on the hill.

The female owner who could be described as 'alternate', comes to the house a few mornings per week to feed the horses. According to Ashley and Sabrina, she promptly disappears over the hill in the top paddock - in the same direction to where the smaller and newer plants were found.

The neighbour's son was also seen on occasions walking through the top paddock and entering the bush close to the hut.

The neighbour himself is close friends with the female owner and more than likely keeps an eye on the house.

No curtains in the house including bathroom and bedroom. Immediate suspicion crept into my mind, as the female resident is quite an attractive girl and if it was known that they both walked around 'naked' between the bedroom and shower, the motive of voyeurism is a strong case towards 'bumps' outside the windows at night.

To put this theory of a voyeur to the test, and to confirm my previous nights suspicions of the neighbour breaching our perimeter wires, I walked straight out the front door at 8pm (time of last nights breach) and directly towards the neighbour's fence - sure enough, someone launched themself from the bushes outside the house and promptly made their way home up the driveway.

The drugs had obviously been growing for many years and both neighbour's were in on the act. After the woman and son moved out of the house, (and the new residents moved in) - the neighbour's looked after matters, thus regularly seen crossing the top paddocks towards the plants and hut. On their return during the night, they discovered that they could see clearly into the house and more than likely 'a naked female' on occasion and a new pastime was initiated.

The "rocks on the roof" was nothing more than nuts being dropped from an over hanging tree, then hitting the corrugated iron and bouncing along the tin and into the guttering.

The shadows outside may have been the neighbour's, as too the 'creature' that launched off the veranda, although I couldn't explain the footprints found in the next valley?

The after effect.

The cameras were left at the location to give them some piece of mind. We shed light on their problems and made them aware of a situation that surrounding them.

On the trip home while travelling North through Grafton, I received a call from the resident on my mobile phone. Apparently they and a friend were standing at the base of the bottom paddock soon after we left looking through binoculars, when they claim the 'Yowie' walked across the top corner of the paddock in full view. "It was just like the picture from 'Out of the Shadows'".

Later in the week, the residents confronted the woman owner of the property and told her he wanted the plants gone before they had their Childcare closed down over the issue. At first she agreed, however it wasn't long before the matter turned ugly.

She requested they leave the house and spread rumours among the community about the Childcare. Some parents believed the stories and pulled their children out. The Police arrived and accused them of having a group of Camo-clad militia on the property, heavily armed and shooting everything that moved (not a shot was fired for the entire weekend).

During the nights while the IR was left on, nothing approached the house and all was quiet, but once the IR was turned off - the problems immediately returned. This is the same story we hear each time we employ the use of Infrared.

A hair sample was obtained from the 'creature' after it was disturbed at night close to the house. It ran through the backyard, jumped a fence and crashed over a children's sea-saw. A large clump of hair was left wedged in the centre swivel which included 20 follicles.

They sent the samples to us for analysis. The samples were 'demanded' by a Detroit research lab, who convinced me they are leaders in primate DNA. The samples were sent - then destroyed in the USA - we never heard back from them again after the bad news.....

Later in the year the residents moved out.

Synopsis: There more than likely is a hairyman roaming the woods, however I feel most of their problems were human related.

© Copyright AYR

Australian Yowie Research - Data Base

www.yowiehunters.com

Details

Created: 25 January 2011

Location: Solomon Islands, Pacific Ocean

Date: September 1st 2003

The Hunt for the Hairymen

A man who named himself “Marius” contacted the AYR several years ago requesting $250,000 funding to hire a Helicopter for an expedition to the Solomon’s in search of the alleged “Giants”. His claims of Government conspiracies, paranoia and cover-ups was …. Intriguing.

He declared his use of an alias was not only because he was being followed, but also his phone was tapped and he had evidence that he needed to defend. After several lengthy phone various email conversations and reading his “Giants of the Solomon Islands” website, we declined the proposition.

18 months later, and during the beginning of the rebel uprising in the Solomon’s, he contacted us once again.

It turns out he had worked in several roles while living in the Islands and claimed he had the ear of the ‘President’ and presented us with an official invitation from some Government Department. He said he had many native friends in the Solomon’s and could arrange guides for us, providing he could join in on the trip. Until then, he had always stated that he could never return due to threats to his life.

He had a range of contradictory stories including deaths, abductions, mining conspiracies and hidden Diamonds. To prove his allegations, upon a meeting, he handed Mike what he claimed was a giant un-cut Diamond in which he could keep.

Later that week, Mike handed it to a major Gold Coast Jeweller that confirmed it was nothing more exciting than a piece of glass….. This was just one in a multitude of incorrect claims supplied by him. Alarm bells were ringing…..

During a previous meeting, Marius (Jeff), had passed on Mike’s phone number to a native named Peter in the Solomon’s. Until Mike received a reverse charge call from Peter in Honiara, we had all but given away the notion of a full scale Expedition to the region, however unlike Marius, Peter was very convincing.

Over a period of two months, Mike spoke to Peter several times per week arranging guides and planning for the trip, which included a meeting with a tribal Chief named Eddie. Eddie was said to hold some power in the villages we needed to pass through in search of the Giants and seemed to be an important pawn for us if this journey was pay off. Former friends of the AYR, Rob and John, were also keen to join in on the expedition and it wasn’t long until we had geared up for the trip. My only reservation was Marius. He was not to come. Peter also showed certain reservations about Marius, however didn’t care to elaborate.

Sitting in front of me on the plane was head of the Federal Police, Mick Kelty, who seemed to be a very confident and charismatic man. The tension in the Islands due to the Rebels was tight. Australia had obligated troops and Federal Police to the region to quell riotous behaviour and stabilise the area which had been left totally lawless and corrupt for quite some time. At this point, Australia News Television was flooded with stories pertaining to the troubles of the Solomon’s and travel warnings were abundant, however here we were walking right into the middle. None of us really knew what to expect.

The moment we walked down the stairs of the aircraft while disembarking, our skin instantly became wet due to the intense humidity of the tropical climate. One of the major rules in this climate was not to cut yourself, as wounds never dry out and often fester with infections due to the constant moistness of the skin. Unfortunately not everything goes to plan.

The first visual aspect that struck us was the fact that the Honiara Airport had become an Australian Military base with armed Soldiers on all sides. During the Cab ride back to Honiara, the poverty of the Islanders was more than apparent. There were no road rules, parts of the actual road itself were simply ‘missing’, their vehicles - if in Australia - would be immediately impounded, garbage as far as the eye could see and people littered the sides of roads living in total unhygienic squaller. Mothers were carrying both young and newborn babies adorned in rags, fighting an unbearable heat in bare feet with no clean drinking water.

Honiara was hot, dirty and dusty, accompanied by the feel of a decrepit 1970’s American Ghetto with gangs of males congregating in the streets with menacing looks in their eyes.

We arrived at the King Solomon Motel where we would stay until the final arrangements and meetings had taken place for the Expedition. Ron and John booked into a room on the bottom floor over looking the pool. Mike booked the “Penthouse suit” (!) for us on the very top floor. It sounded good in theory, however when we found the luggage elevator was out of service due to it crashing through the foyer only a week prior, the thought of hauling all our heavy equipment up an eternity of long and steep stair cases that never seemed to end in 40 degree heat to the top of the ‘hill’ that it was built on, took most of the novelty away.

It looked like Rob and John were the smart ones. The moment we collapsed through the door of our room, we realised we needed drinks and had to embark on an epic journey all the way back down to the foyer and back up again. With the sweat pouring of us and our legs tight and pumped, it felt as though we had already walked several arduous miles through the jungle.

The King Solomon was also the main base of the AFP (Australian Federal Police) and APS (Australian Protective Services).

Unlike the hard working Military personnel, who were forced to wear full combat fatigues while re-constructing the bomb ravaged buildings and services (and living in make-shift tents in the middle of dirty dust bowls) during the extreme heat of the day, the Federal Police had a contrasting lifestyle drinking Beer by the pool as if they were on holiday and having a lovely time of it all, fully funded by the Australian Tax payer. The only time we saw them in town was when they were in novelty shops purchasing gifts for people back home.

Regardless of surroundings, my thoughts were still with the nights meeting of the great “Chief Eddie” which had me conjuring thoughts of a Regal and Grand individual sporting elaborate headwear and standing at least 6ft tall.

After a rest from our up hill climbs, we all set off “Down Town”. Honiara was a poverty stricken Ghetto consisting of run down shops and a main road full of rubbish and large potholes. The looks we received from the local males were somewhat of resentment and calculated thoughts. Thoughts of suspicion about exactly who we were, was not only apparent with the locals, but at times, also the AFP. Who were we? Which organisation did we belong to? What were we doing there? Nobody dared to ask….. The natives, Military and AFP all considered us to be on some form of under cover mission, after all who in their right minds would travel to Honiara during this conflict, danger and harsh conditions unless they were sent by the Government.

The local males found their power within the safety of numbers, however were all very timid when by themselves. I remember giving a group of menacing youths a simple smile in return. The faces of the entire group suddenly turned from scours to happy smiles of appreciation.

Their mouths and what little teeth they had were blood red from the beetle-nut drug they all use openly. Blood red splatters are found all over the roads and pavements from when they spit the potion. They mix it with lime to quell some of the bitterness, which is the cause of the horrific tooth decay. Most of the males have no front teeth at all from a lifetime of Beetle-nut use and abuse. It produces a ‘stoned’ effect, similar to Marijuana and is a way of life in the Solomon’s.

The local market is bustling with locals who sell produce and trinkets to make ends meet. Not long before we arrived the market was a scene of bloodshed after several gang members opened up with fully automatic weapons amongst the crowd. War Lords ruled the streets and the Asian Mafia corruptly governed everything else. Drug use and prostitution still festered in the seedy back streets of Honiara which included girls as young as 8 years old who continually sell themselves just to put food on the table.

The lucky ones spend up to 8 hours per working at grass cutters for the Council on the sides of roads in the extreme heat slashing weeds and tall grass with long knives for the mega sum of A$5 per week.

Later that afternoon we met with both Peter and “Chief Eddie” in the foyer of the King Solomon. Both jet-black natives who spoke pigeon English, it was hard at first to understand each and every word in sentences. Peter was far more educated than the Chief and often found himself translating when Eddie couldn’t find the correct words. The great Chief stood 4ft tall sporting a pair of old ripped shorts, second hand blue tee shirt and bare feet. He had never been in such an establishment as the 2 Star King Solomon and appeared to be quite uncomfortable in these unfamiliar surroundings.

Their stories were fascinating while they spoke with conviction about the Giants of the forest they, and many other natives had encountered. According to the two, the Giants still remain in the centre of the Island that is very remote, hostile and hard to navigate. The quoted time scale by foot according to “Chief Eddie” (who wore a remarkable resemblance to an older and skinnier Eddie Murphy), was a day and a half walk each way. Considering he wore a watch, we unfortunately we took it as Gospel that he could comprehend the concept of ‘time’. It wasn’t until later that it was more than clear that not only he couldn’t actually tell the time, but had absolutely no grasp of time or distance. The $5 digital watch was somewhat of a status symbol for a person of his ‘alleged’ Stature.

During the conversation we made mention of security risks and concerns regarding the Rebels, of which in return we were guaranteed would be no issue. The Major War Lord, Harold Kiki was in confinement on an Australian Navel Vessel moored off the Coast of Honiara and many of his followers if not already detained, were either on the run or driven underground.

Mike decided to take our new friends to the only public Restaurant in town, which was Chinese. The heat was till heavy and we looked forward to sitting in air-conditioned comfort. Neither Chief Eddie nor Peter had ever dinned out before, therefore this was an occasion of great excitement for them. Upon arrival disappointment awaited with the News that the Air-Conditioning had collapsed and we were forced to wipe away the sweat as we ate. Two battle wounded and badly scarred dogs sat outside, which were the result of illegal Dog fighting most likely organised by the Asian owners of the establishment.

Mike organised a Banquette for our guests who both looked nervous, yet curious about the event. Chief Eddie intensely studied the food and with a little encouragement, finally tried some of the dishes. It didn’t suit his tastes, so he stayed with the simply foods such as Chicken and boiled rice. Peter was a little more adventurous and seemed keen to sample anything on the table.

During dinner, plans were set for the morning. We were to be picked up at 7am by a flat bed truck and to be taken to the first village to recruit some helpers and guides.

Walking back to the Hotel, I remember how friendly the young girls were. The 10 – 16 year olds giggled, smiled and waved as we walked past. It wasn’t until later that I was informed that they were in fact Prostitutes.

Later that night after Peter and the Chief had left, discussions about the morning’s plans continued as we sat in the Bar of the King Solomon foyer observing the AFP and other patrons. Every so often an AFP member would come down to the foyer and have an introduction with a chaperoned young girl. They would wander back up the stairs to one of the rooms which didn’t seem too out of place other than the age of the girl.

While ordering a round of drinks, the Barman inquired if I would like a girl and if so – how young? I told him that I wasn’t interested, however he persisted and informed me that the age wasn’t an issue, but the young ones cost a little more. Further to that he added that the APS had a room up stairs for such an occasion. It seemed apparent to him that I was either AFP or APS. Our esteemed Federal authorities were having sex with under age girls? Surely not? Don’t they themselves put people in jail for such an offence or does that rule only apply in OUR Country? After sitting for a while longer observing and commenting on further meetings, we retired back to our rooms for a good night sleep.

7am: We spent an hour sorting through our equipment and loading our Backpacks. The surplus was put into storage and left at the Motel. Although only 7am, it was already hot and steamy. The truck arrived with various natives we hadn’t met before, who helped us load out gear. In light of possible dangers involving Rebels, we were suspicious of all around us and treated them all with a degree of caution, as kidnap and ransoms were not uncommon in these parts and although the expedition was yet to begin, we were already well out numbered.

The truck set off on the long, hot and bumpy ride heading towards the starting point of the hike. Only an hour in and we were already becoming sunburnt. The truck was also considered as a local bus and we found ourselves stopping periodically to pick up hitchhikers. Within a short time the tray-back had become quite full and our gear was often shifted around to make room for more people each time the truck came to a halt. The road was laden with large holes and at certain points, bomb craters and total washouts. We had to prepare for each bump, as they sometimes caused a jarring effect if not ready for it.

Besides Peter and Chief Eddie, we didn’t know anyone else on the truck. Everyone stared at us curiously. They studied our clothes, faces and gear. Every so often some native speech would break out in an un comprehendible dialect. This made us feel uneasy at times, as we didn’t know what they were discussing, however it was more than clear that we were the subject line.

Nearly two hours had passed travelling down this hellish road and our legs began to cramp and butts became numb. We had to stand up or move around the best we could to keep the blood flowing.

There was a lot to see on the journey including the devastation caused by a major Typhoon years before that had destroyed roads, power, bridges and only rail network on the Island. The fascinating aspect to all this was that everything was simply left as though the storm hit only yesterday. The Government had no funds to repair any of the damage, therefore the clock turned back 50 years once the storm hit and people who were already living in squaller, were forced into even worse conditions. It was an amazing sight. At least Honiara had an old generator that struggled away to preserve the basic necessities, but outside the town they live in grass huts with no clean drinking water or power. Their means of transportation was their feet and it was nothing for them to walk for an entire day to get from A to B and they live off the land to survive. It was truly primitive.

Finally the truck pulled off the main road into a field and along a dirt track towards the mountains. We stopped at a small remote village with several grass huts, roaming chickens, pigs and dogs. A grass Chapel had been constructed over looking a large stream. Children’s laughter could be heard in the distance as they played in the water somewhere further into the forest.
Standing out in the tropical landscape of banana plantations and rolling fields was a grand mountain that appeared to be larger then anything we in Australia are accustom to. Somewhere beyond this steeply peaked mountain was our target.

It was a relief to finally get off the truck and stretch the legs. I began to unload my gear, however my excitement soon turned to frustration when we were told that this stop was merely to find more helpers. Two more natives boarded the truck who seemed to be very secretive as they whispered quietly to each other about we strange white people and what this was all about. They carried little sacks of Beetle-nut and lime, and one of the boys looked extremely stoned and unstable. The other boy had somewhat of a more regal demeanour about him. A good looking and strapping young lad, until he opened his mouth to display the blood red stains of the Beetle-nut and two missing front teeth. His name was ………

We continued back along the bumpy main road in the searing heat until we turned off once again. We travelled along another thin dirt road through a pine plantation into a tropical rainforest that was adorned with several primitive villages. The natives walked to the track waving and smiling as we drove through the forest tailed by excited children running behind.

We finally came to a halt at a river and unloaded the equipment. We had quite an entourage. Mike had employed the helpers as porters to carry our backpacks and equipment, however at the time I didn’t consider we had enough people and decided to carry my own luggage. Unfortunately I had the heaviest backpack that weighed over 35kg, but this wasn’t a concern for me at this stage, as I was more than happy just to get off the truck. We all geared up for the beginning of our adventure and helped each other secure packs and other equipment into position. I had my Blunstone hiking boots on, with a back up pair of runners strapped to the side of my pack and another set of surfing boots for stream beds if required, but our main aim was to keep our feet dry.

We set off with Chief Eddie leading the way, followed by Mike who we aptly named “Barwana” because not only was he leading the Natives, but he also he funded a lot of the mission and was dressed in a safari suit and carrying a staff. We arrived at the first river crossing which at the time seemed to be quite a novelty. My biggest dilemma was which shoes I should use for such an occasion? Keeping in mind that we didn’t want wet socks, just as the natives, I decided bare feet was the best idea because I could dry my feet on the other side, then put my hiking boots back on the remainder of the expedition.

The stream level was just above the knees and very fast flowing. Due to the fast flowing current, it was hard to see the bottom, which was laden with large and small slippery rocks. My backpack was heavy and contained thousands of dollars of equipment. In my left hand was Mikes $3,000 video camera and in my right, my boots. Due to the weight, any shift in my backpack was like the swaying of a fully laden truck and very hard to correct. One wrong step and it would take me over within seconds.

Rob and myself walked across together with bare feet, then on the other side, dried our feet and put our boots back on. As we walked over a small hill on the sandy track, we were faced with another stream a little deeper than the last. Off came the boots again.

Mike and John kept their boots on, while the natives didn’t have any to worry about. My concern was still about wet feet while hiking in this climate. The last thing anyone wanted to do was to get injured, even if it was a simple blister, as any wound was sure to fester and become badly infected.

We crossed this stream, put our boots back on and re-joined the others. As we came around a bend in the track, there was yet another stream to navigate.

I asked Eddie how many more streams there were to cross and he replied with “One”. I inquired how long it was going to take to get to our destination and with a glance of his digital watch and replied “One hour” and pointed to a nearby mountain.

We were all relieved to hear this was to be such a short trip because the heat and humidity was harsh, even for we Queenslanders who are used to hot weather. We hiked over the mountain pointed out by Little Chief Eddie, and several more beyond that, then further several Kilometres and various rivers before we reached another deep crossing and rested. I had changed into my sneakers by this time because I was tired of taking off my boots each time we were faced with a river and now all four of us kept our shoes during crossings.

We continued on during the heat of the day hiking up high peaks, down steep descents and crossed another dozen river crossings, each worse than the last. Our clothes we dripping wet from sweat as the terrain became more and more hostile. Rob and John were starting to have a hard time of it and were starting to take several breaks, while Mike and myself kept pushing forward until the group had split into two.

I had 1.5 litres of water in my hydration pack and was determined to ration it out, as not break into the box of bottled water being carried by one of the porters with Rob and John. As a result, I was beginning to become a little dehydrated. We gave up asking Chief Eddie how far or how long, as his replies were a predictable “One” to every question asked. He had no concept of time or distance and couldn’t count; therefore asking a simple question such as “How many more crossings” was impossible for him to answer.

6 hours had passed and we found ourselves at the deepest crossing of the journey. Everyone else slowly and carefully made their way through the fast running waist high water feeling each rock with their feet on every step, while I adjusted my pack higher in an attempt to get as little of my gear wet as possible. I began my way. Three quarters of the way across I became concerned about my pack and tried to compensate for it. As I got closer to the other side, my foot slipped on a rock and the 35kg pack moved with the direction of the current and I didn’t stand a chance. As I came down I threw Mike’s camera in the air with my left hand as my left knee crashed and slid on the jagged rocks of the stream floor and caught the camera with my right hand. The Porters were immediately in the water to pull me out. The camera was saved, but my knee was gushing blood and badly injured. I limped to shore.

The looks of concern by all were obvious. I hid the pain the best I could and attempted to brush off the concern with “Don’t worry, it’s only a scratch”. If our skin was wet enough from the humidity, each river crossing made it worse. I knew the wound was going to have a hard time drying out to heal. It could only get worse. We sat on some rocks in a dried out section of riverbed and padded the blood off the best we could, but the heavy swelling had already began.

I had done more damage than I thought, but was determined not to let this slow down the trip or to be a burden on the others, so I insisted I was fine. Fine enough to continue with my 35kg backpack despite many offers from others to take the weight. We marched on.

The swelling of the knee slowly grew worse with each Kilometre we walked. The weight of the pack was impacting the knee on each step and there was little I could do other than watch the knee grow and keep absorbing the ever-increasing pain.

Mike and Myself had managed hike ahead of Rob and John by a good half hour. This wasn’t a wise move, as they had the water and my hydration pack was near on empty in the soaring heat. The pain was incredibly intense, but I couldn’t let it show otherwise the rest of the crew may have called the expedition off and I wouldn’t allow myself to be responsible for that after so many weeks of planning.

As we climbed and descended more hostile terrain over the next hour, it became clear that the left knee damage was only a part of the problem. Because I had been compensating the left knee, the right one was also swelling up like a balloon as a result. The pain from both knees was tearing through me like a hot knife. Each step felt like a spear being driven into my legs and to make things worse, I now couldn’t flex or bend my knees at all and had to walk semi straight legged with no idea how far we yet had to go, but I still refused to release my pack. With only two porters by our sides now, Mike and myself persisted on with my pain constantly increasing and the dehydration setting in fast.

From this point onwards, it was all uphill. The day was growing long and it wasn’t long before dusk, yet we still didn’t know where we were or where the rest of our party was. One of the Porters then disappeared ahead to try and find our destination.

My mouth had now turned dry and infection had well set in to the wounds. A pasty yellow septic vile was seeping down my leg into my boot. It was now a case of one foot in front of the other and keep moving. I knew that if I stopped, the pain and stiffness of the swelling and infections would set in even further, therefore I couldn’t afford the risk of taking a break at any stage.

Feeling weak and almost staggering at a snails pace due to a lack of water and overwhelming pain, we noticed that our last porter had also disappeared. One of the main rules the natives drummed into us was under no circumstances walk these tracks alone. It was an extremely hostile place where people are frequently murdered or never found again due to ill means. Being the only white men in this particular area certainly added to the risk.

A noise came from the bush behind us. Appearing on the track from the forest was a native wearing nothing more than a loincloth and carrying a machete and spears. This man had bad intentions that you could read in his eyes. He advanced towards us in a menacing fashion. There was nothing I could do about it as fatigue, intense pain and dehydration now ruled my life. The most I was capable of was getting one foot in front of other and even that menial task was a monumental effort. As he closed in gripping the machete in his right hand, yelling and screaming came from up the track. Our porter was running at full speed down the hill waving his arms about furiously at this native. It appeared that he might just have saved our lives. He rushed to the man and frantically explained in their language who we were and which village gave us permission to cross this boarder. This was a close call, but at the time I was in such a bad state that I simply didn’t care. We pressed on.

It wasn’t long before the other porter re-appeared with good news. He found the village we were to stay at prior to tomorrows journey. “Tomorrows Journey?” “Village?” I thought to myself. It seemed that good old Chief Eddie was again well off the mark. We had crossed 22 rivers and had hiked the entire day, yet apparently we had over “80” river crossings and another “3” days until we arrived at our final destination! At this stage of the trip, basically everything that Eddie had said in the past two days was wrong. By this time I didn’t want to know Chief Eddie and I knew it would be hard just to be civil. He clearly had absolutely NO idea of anything in which he spoke of.

It was lucky the second porter arrived with the news, as I was surely about to collapse, but was still adamantly declaring to all that “I’m fine!”

Once in the village on top of this huge mountain range curious natives surrounded us, most had never seen a white man in their entire lives. There was only one white man ever to venture this far. He was a missionary in the 50’s. Children giggled, pointed and laughed and they hid behind grass huts excited about their strange looking visitors.

This was the first time in hours I had had been able to remove my pack. It was a liberating feeling! Here I sat straight legged for the next 30 mins waiting for the rest of the crew. Just the thought of fresh drinking water coming my way was enough to raise a content and rye smile. I gazed around the village from where I sat soaking in all the sights including grass huts and plantations. It was like a little hidden city right in the centre of the Island and it didn’t get any more primitive than this, as clothes didn’t seem to be an issue. It seemed like we were sitting on top of the World. The views were spectacular.

As the word spread of the two white men, villagers came from all over for a closer observation. It wasn’t long before a small crowd of people stood at a distance viewing, whispering and speculating the reasons for our mysterious appearance. Then the village missionary suddenly arrived on a more formal basis.

We were not only interviewed, but almost interrogated. He was an educated man and the only person in the village who wore Western clothing. It was clear that he enjoyed being the only educated man there, and our presence seemed to be a threat. Embellishing in the fact that he worked as the advisor for the Village Chief gave him extreme power, as the Chief was but a simple man with little education.

One of the main concerns to the native Solomon Islanders was the constant paranoia of Western Mining Companies raping their land for minerals, oil and Diamonds, which would desecrate their land and threaten their way of life and this man had the villagers blinded in a cloudy mist of religious thunder and lightning that provided him supreme power. He was all smoke and mirrors.

His concerns now consisted of a couple of educated white men in “his” village? How long did we plan to stay? What threat do we pose? Are they more educated than I?

During his interrogation, he asked the purpose of our visit. “The Giants” we responded. “Giants? The last Giants died ten years ago. There are no more Giants now”. The look in his eyes told a different story. He may have been able to bluff his way over the simple villagers, however it was more than apparent that this so called Holy man was nothing more than a power hungry cloak and dagger stand over from the medieval times. “There are no Giants, you must leave now”.

From here he hurried to the hut of the Village Chief and informed him that we were from the Government and we were to go immediately.

In the mean time Rob and John had finally trudged into the village red faced and out of breath with the rest of out party, just as we did over half an hour ago. It was good to see our friends again! John was not one to argue with and I’m sure just the sight of the man would have made many of the villagers take a few steps back. By Johns side was Rob, and together would cause some hell if anything untoward went down. Our guides Peter and the Great Chief Eddie followed – with our water!

Watching closely from a distance behind our party was the notorious man that had intensions of murdering us, still clutching those spears and machete.

Our Grand and illustrious Chief Eddie was called to a hut by the Village Chief and a furore of native tongue rang out. It seemed that Chief Eddie didn’t have the respect that we counted on. Mike joined in on the meeting an upon his return he informed us that good old Chief Eddie Murphy failed to inform out hosts of our arrival prior to the trip which was yet another major blunder on his behalf.

After negotiations, it was finally agreed that we could spend the night and rest before heading back. This village was the gateway to our objective. Without prior permission to head through which was “supposed” to have been arranged prior to the trip; we could have been speared to death.

This was a major insult to Chief Eddie, who later that night we learned was not the true Chief (Surprise, surprise). It was in fact his brother that held the power of the lower regions and full-scale war was now being threatened towards this village. Although little Eddie didn’t hold the esteemed power that we first thought, he could still wage war on this tribe. The fact that they deigned us access through their village was a swipe in the face with a white cotton glove. Words were now being spoken to destroy this village and all that lived in it. This was now a major incident.

Our crew loaded all our packs and equipment into the hut and while John and Rob the security situation, my attention was solidly focus at my legs. After a long period without moving them, they had both somewhat congealed. Any attempted flex the knee caused excruciating pain and the tendons felt like thick leather straps that tugged on the kneecaps causing severe cramps. Both hamstrings at the time felt like they had snapped

My only concern was how my injuries were going to effect or hamper our objective. Mike had stated that he was holding meetings later that night with the Village Chief and felt there was still a chance of a breakthrough. The thought of staggering back down the steep mountains was bad enough, but another two days forward followed by 4 days back was worse, however the only thing I could do was maintain that I was Ok and ready to continue. No matter what show I managed to muster, the injuries were plain to see. It didn’t make a difference which way I looked, someone was bound to catch a grimace each time I attempted to move. But… “I was fine..”

It was now dinnertime and all I wanted to do was lay down in the hut. There were now so many native ‘sight seers’ that they were all around, including within our hut. Rockson had just foiled Johns Boots being stolen by a native teenager, so this was the time I thought best to lye in the hut to keep a watch on our gear. Getting up the two stairs was a challenge considering I couldn’t bend my knees and the steps seemed miles apart.

Rob, John and Mike mingled with the natives, made cups of coffee and soaked in the sights from this glorious mountain peak. As the light drew dim, our crew ate within the hut. For me, it felt good to have all of us there at the one time. Rob, John and Mike had brought dehydrated foods that required hot water to re-hydrate them. I had brought predominately canned foods which in this case was more than convenient considering I couldn’t move about to boil water.

Uncertain of the stability within the camp, one could not help but think of spears being driven through the flimsy walls of our grass hut as we slept if the meeting of Mike, Grand Chief Watch wearing non-time telling Eddie, the well dressed black missionary and Village Chief didn’t do well. This was just one of the many ideo-consistories that crept into ones mind while being surrounded by potentially hostile natives and unfamiliar surroundings.

Mike had made it certain amongst the tribal elders that he was in charge of this Expedition and did his very best to patch any wounds that may have occurred as a result of our arrival. Loud and aggressive tribal tongue was exchanged during the meeting while the translators did their best to keep Mike informed about the situation.

Meanwhile back at the Bamboo hut, my knees had swelled with fluid and the surrounding skin was stretched beyond comprehension. The slightest movement was nothing less than excruciating, so I lay on my back with straight legs absorbing the giggling sounds of the curious natives. At times we would turn on our high powered LED head lamps that lit up the dark inside surroundings of the hut, which promptly resulted in envious “Oooooo’s and Aaarrhhh’s” from our new friends.

Security was an issue, as if anything was in hands reach without supervision – equipment would quickly vanish. After finishing 2 tins of Sardines and one can of Spaghetti, I was concerned as to where to put the cans. There was no rubbish collection on Thursday mornings and for that matter, no bins, however I had a sneaking suspicion that these items would be put to good use, that lulled my guilt of being portrayed as a poor or messy houseguest.

The night grew long and my thoughts were towards Michael and pondering about how matters were panning out. My largest concern, of course, was my knees and how far my mind could control my knees if there was to be another gruelling days hike through fast running rivers, hostile terrain and navigating high inclines and declines while in the mountains. The biggest question to myself concerning what long-term damage I would do to myself in the name of ‘keeping up appearances’, so to speak.

Due to being somewhat incapacitated it felt good to have Rob and John with me, as the constant attention from the locals was rather annoying. Later in the night, Michael had become tired of the fruitless squabbling that was happening among the hierarchy and returned to the hut with bad News. It seemed there were issues that could not be remedied tonight, however the proceedings continued without our ambassador.

It was time to sleep, or at the very best, try to sleep.

I don’t think anyone got much sleep this night, as one eye was always open. Occasionally during the night there were noises and footsteps behind the hut, but dawn came fast and it was a new day.

Tired and sorer than ever I woke to the smell of Coffee. Rob, John and Michael had set up a make-shift camping stove to boil water. With tight swollen knees I tried several ways to roll over and eventually climb my way to my feet. I made it to the hut door and slowly climbed down the two large steps onto the ground. To my left was the aroma of Coffee! A God send….

When the guys had finished making theirs, I heated up my water. The metal cup had become very hot while on the flames of the firelighters and I took my Singlet off to remove it. Unfortunately my Singlet had touched a fire starter and caught alight. The humour in the situation was well timed. As we drank our Coffee’s we gazed around the amazing mountain peak landscape while sharing a lot of laughs pertaining to our situation.

Mike had one further meeting and the situation was clear. Due to “Grand Chief Watch wearing non-time telling no concept of distance and letting them know we were coming ‘Eddie”, we were to be turned back or be speared.

There was no choice but to head back. The Expedition was over…..

After re-packing our gear and loading up, the stubborn me was still refusing help and offers of taking my pack. The single thought in my mind was to keep moving, not let my knees to congeal, not to be a burden and not to be the one to slow the team down – “I was fine”. So I moved ….. and moved fast.

My plan was to walk on my “stilts” as quick as I could. Pain-wise today was far worse, and I knew that if I stopped I was in deep trouble because of the escalating congealing. Therefore I had to keep ahead of the group.

I hobbled past the lead guide focussed on only one thought – one foot on front of the other and do it fast. I knew time was my adversary and I had to make up time initially because I knew I was going to lose it in the long run. If I could get up ahead and keep at a fast yet painful pace, I wouldn’t slow the others down. The other advantage was that I could let out with a vocal burst of pain and nobody would hear, which was such a relief, as I certainly did it when alone.

The weight of the pack punched compounded each step of the failing Knees with a sharp jab. I was making good pace when I heard footsteps running behind me. It was an out of breath Rockson with a message; “Have to wait – danger”. After that he headed back to the team. The only danger in my mind was falling off a steep incline/decline – I continued on, but faster.

Feeling more than happy with myself because of my pace, I came to the serious series of declines. There was no choice in the matter; I had to bend my knees. A daunting thought ….. At this stage I rejoiced in the fact that there was nobody within “yelling distance”, because yell is what I did. To bend knee was like amputating a leg. At this point I put a stick in my mouth and bit. To bend a knee in this state was ludicrous, to bend it under such weight was almost an impossibility, yet it had to be done, something to deal with. It was now a personal challenge.

Mind over matter.

[End of Part 1]

© Copyright AYR
Australian Yowie Research - Data Base
www.yowiehunters.com

Details

Created: 25 January 2011

Location: Springbrook, Queensland

Date: July, 1999

The names of our contacts will remain anonymous by request, and exact locations have been with held by request of property owners and Park Rangers (Little Nerang Dam).

We began our July expedition at a location that the Rangers and locals know as "Yowie active". I received a phone call from "Ranger #1" concerned that we may destroy some of the rare fauna while scouting the area at night. I assured him that all would be fine and we would try to stay on the tracks.

He then relayed some sightings to me of that area. I then went by myself to the area for a quick re-con of the area before the AHR team expedition, and spoke to "Ranger #2".

Upon the question to the Ranger about Yowie activity in that particular area, he's response was quite typical, "Come on mate, you have to be pulling my leg! Yowies, nah, no such thing!." I then introduced myself and informed him who we are and what we do.

We sat and chatted on a park bench for a while, and I showed him through my photo album and relayed a couple of my own experiences with the beast, and also informed him that I have spoken to "Ranger #1". His reply was "Ah, so your THOSE guys!" He immediately opened up and told me many things of great interest. It is a well known fact, and a fact that I have spoken to the authorities about, that the public is kept in the dark about the existence of the Yowie, and I guess in some ways, for a good reason.

"Ranger #2" was a good bloke, and quite helpful. He even said at one stage, "I sometimes shit myself when I come to work and its still dark, I'm constantly looking over my shoulders for these things!" Myself, Phil, Ashley and Warren met at the location, immediately finding the evidence we need, footprints! Shortly after, "Ranger #3" arrived to close the main gates of the Park. Automatically, "Ranger #3" had a good idea what we were there for.

We introduced ourselves and again, there was no use in disclaiming the Yowie, he was also quite helpful. I took "Ranger 3" to view one of the prints we had found, he confirmed that it happened over night, because he knew the area back to front. "Ranger 3" left us there, and we got to work.

We found numerous prints that night, but no Yowie. We were also informed that the main activity was over the other side of the area we were in, and we were not set up for that inaccessible terrain.

Night number 2, The Springbrook Homestead. Helen and Andre of the Springbrook Homestead in Springbrook, (Gold Coast Hinterland) contacted me with another great lead.

Apparently a group of people, while searching for glow worms, were recently harassed by a Yowie and made a hasty exit from the area on private property. This property has to be one of the best rainforest walks I have seen.

Helen and Andre have many tourists to the area in hope to see a Yowie, and the Yowie has been a great draw card for the area. The Springbrook Homestead has geared itself around the Yowie, and even does the occasional "Yowie tour". The AHR has provided a folder of our findings, photos and newspaper clips for the tourists to view while eating. They have even made there menu's look like a big foot, and serve "Yowie Burgers"! The Asians in particular can't get enough, and even ask to buy the Menu's!

The Springbrook Homestead, being one of the largest tourist destinations around the Hinterland, was the perfect place for info of the area. Andre took me to the property, and introduced me to our "Contact", the owner.

"Contact" was extremely hospitable, and new everything there is to know about his property, which he almost manicures to the state of perfection. Myself and Andre jumped into the "Contacts" 4wd and went to the location of the incident. After we got out of the 4wd, he said he had something to show me.

We walked into the location where the creature had its "rave on", he pointed to a tree with all the bark ripped off. On closer inspection of the tree, all the signs were there. The grubs had been removed, huge sheets of bark had been ripped off and there were sideway motioned "finger" marks, it was a good place to look for prints. It didn't take long to find a reasonable footprint measuring 12", and five toes.

Myself and Andre took a couple of pics of the print, but we both new that the colour definition of the soil and leaves would make it hard for a good clear photo. We moved on to another location where our Contact had another interesting find, a stone formation in an oval appearance.

These rocks were far too large for a Human to move by himself, and they looked like they had been there for ever. He made an interesting point about the rocks, he said that nothing seemed to grow in the middle! To me it looked like an ancient grave, but far larger than that of a Humans.

I asked the owner if he would ever dig it up to see exactly what it contains, but he said that he had "bad vibes" about it and thought it was best left alone. It was beginning to get dark and Andre had to go back to work at the Homestead. I wanted to stay down there, but at that stage the tracks looked like a maze and I wasn’t sure whether I could find my way out easily, so I went back to the owners house with them and walked back down from there.

By the time I was half way down it was very dark and the thick jungle like rainforest was quite creepy. I walked quietly down with the torch off and listened to every noise the forest contained. I could hardly see 10ft in front of me as I walked the tracks down to an old cabin near a creek. I thought this would be a good place to start the stake out, and found some thick under growth and sat there amongst the damp foliage. The cabin was in a clearing only 4 yards from the creek and the dull moonlight gave me very little vision of the area. After being there for 30mins, my mind recalled all the reasons why it is not a good idea to be out there alone with an "unknown" Hominid.

I remembered the time I was chased by one with the ferocity of a Lion on the attack, I also recalled all the newspaper clippings and our reports of Bigfoot and Yowie attacks, but it was just one of those thoughts that happens when your out there alone and unarmed in an unknown environment.

The forest became very quiet and very, very dark. I was still thinking of all the "What if's" when, CRAAAASH!!!!!............................. Something big was coming my way in a big hurry! From down the stream below the cabin came the big creature racing towards me, swinging around the trees and leaping over rocks and logs. I slowly lay on my back and covered myself in the under growth. The big heavy foot steps were unmistakable as it drew level with me by the creek. I thought to myself, "Just keep on going sucker, nothing to see here!" I was in no frame of mind for games, and just thought about the plan of escape if trouble leapt out of the creek. CRASH, CRASH, CRASH, he swung around more trees as he continued up the stream and leapt from rock to rock, not stopping at any stage.

I then knew he hadn’t seem me, I lay still as he went passed and up the creek to higher ground. I waited until I couldn’t hear him anymore, and got to my feet again and brushed myself off. I then made my way very quietly back to the owners house, the whole time watching and listening. After I arrived back safely, I called Phil and Ashley and made plans for the guys to meet there in a couple of days. On the way home I stopped off at the Springbrook Homestead and let Helen and Andre know that the AYR would be back soon, and confirmed the property as "active".

Night Number 3, The Boggy track. Phil and Ash met me at the owners property just on dusk, we chatted with the owner for a few minutes, then drove the cars down the muddy tracks until we found a flat area where the cars would be safe. The cars slipped and slid the whole way around the tracks, and both cars being front wheel drive didn't make things any easier. We all got out and started assembling all our gear in the dark. It was cold, very quiet, and not much moonlight to guide us without the use of the torches. I had my gear ready and thought I'd walk up the track a little for a listen, on the way I began to whistle, when suddenly.......................a huge CRASH! THUMP, CRASH, CRASH! came from about 40 metres below.

We all stopped and looked, then smiled........"looks like we're in for a good night guys!" We shone the torches down to where the noise emanated from, but there was no visual, only the sound of distant feet. From there we walked the tracks using different techniques to try and lure the creature towards us. The night became bitterly cold, but the constant moving kept us all sweating as we walked up hills, down hills, through thick scrub and long distances. At times we would branch off from one another, but kept in radio contact at all times. The only sounds we could hear was the occasional Wallaby.

We finally found ourselves at the cabin by the creek and I showed the guys where I last heard it. We went back for the cars and slowly brought them down the steep muddy tracks all the way down to the closest point we could get them to the cabin, (60-70metres and just out of sight from the cabin). On the way down we were all thinking, "Is this a good idea? Are we going to get them back up?"

The cars tyres lost grip in places and we'd slide a few metres here and there, and the sides of the cars would lift high and drop low as we slowly eased them over rocks and holes. Once there, Phil started a fire as myself and Ashley walked other tracks.

We found several worn footprints that had been washed out with rain, and from the size of them we were dealing with a big sucker, at least 8ft! We could see a lot of foliage devastation in the way of broken branches and trees that seemed to be healthy before they were snapped. Phil radioed us about noises he was having back at the cabin, so we got back there as soon as we could.

When we arrived, the noises stopped, so we sat there for a while and relaxed. I had left my drink bottle in the car and went for a walk to get it. As I approached the car, BOOM, BOOM, BOOM.................the sound of feet running into the bushes about 40 metres behind my car. I heard "CRASH, CRASH, CRASH" as the trees began to shake violently, then the sound of breaking twigs and branches as it moved around in the trees. It positioned itself behind a group of trees and became silent.

I had the creepy feeling of being watched as I opened the car door to get my water bottle. I stood there with my back to it for a while listening to the odd crack of a twig from beneath its feet, then turned around with the torch quickly and startled it into more noise. I knew that if was a Roo or Wallaby it would have taken off, but this was far larger and heavier than any other animal in the bush. I played the game with it for about 10 minutes, the whole time it would change positions and get a little closer.

I called Ashley on the radio, but when he arrived I hadn’t heard it for a few minutes and when we went in for a look we found nothing. From there myself and Ash walked to the lower ground of the property along the fence line to another creek. It was very over grown and hard to navigate, it didn't take Ash long to find some huge footprints in the long weeds measuring a 4ft stride, they walked all the way to a steep drop and the bottom of the drop was well used. Ash also found what looked like a resting place of the creature, completely worn and heaps of broken twigs.

It looked like it just lay there breaking twigs for hours, there was also an odd smell about it. The whole area down there was dense swamp land, and had a really spooky feel to it. We also found stick formations near the fences that we have seen before in other active areas, and numerous large tracks leading further into the swamp. It was getting close to 1am, and time to leave, so we remembered this place for the next visit.

Back at the cabin, Phil was cleaning up and we all packed our gear back into the cars ready for the trip home and discussed how we would get the cars back up that steep muddy road. Ash seemed quite amused at Phil and myself while we picked all the leaches off ourselves, Ashley obviously didn't have worthy enough blood for them!

My car was first to go, I travelled the flat part as quick as I could over all the big bumps before the tight left turn up the steep track. As I came close to the turn, I pulled the wheel and the car slid, then I hit the brakes and stopped, there was just no way I could get a run up at it because the corner was just too tight and wet. I slowly turned the car facing the track and gave it my best shot, "I think I can, I think I can!"

As I hit some of the holes and mud the wheels started spinning and backwards I went, sliding all the way back to where I started. I tried again, but the same thing happened, I managed to get the car up enough to clear myself from Ashley’s car which was motoring towards the turn. I radioed Phil and told them to watch out for the turn, at that moment Ashley’s car became almost sideways at the turn and a quick stop, it got them as well.

Phil and Ash got out and helped push my car, after several attempts we finally got it to the top. By the time they tried to get out of there, it was just no use, the track was all torn up.

We did try many times, but just found themselves almost in the trees on each occasion. We pushed and pushed and pushed, each time we tried, the more and more exhausted we became, it was now 2am. It came to the stage where I could hardly walk I was so tired, every muscle in my body was beginning to shut down, it was cold and I was wet and muddy.

Ashley decided to use his Ab-sailing gear to get us out, he unloaded all the ropes and bits'n'pieces, then measured it out from my car to his. Up and down the steep hill we walked, up and down, up and down, I was getting to the stage of falling down. While I was at the top of the hill, Phil hit the radio with "I think we have a visitor down here!". Sure enough, Mr. Smelly bones had arrived to see what all the commotion was about, and probably having a good old laugh at our expense.

He came close enough to have a good visual of everything that was going on. Ashley tied the straps around different trees and added hooks and this and that, it looked like something straight out of "McGyver". Now I was at the bottom of the hill picking some bits and pieces up, the smell from the beast was putrid, the odour was overwhelming and he made a huge "hoo har" in the bushes to let us know we had an audience. At that stage I was just thinking, "go away, we don't need this now", but he continued stomping around in the bush and omitting his foul stench on me. I didn't even have the energy to throw rocks at him.

My legs were shaky from all the walking we had done and all I could think of was sleep. He shook the trees and broke branches, but nobody really cared, we were all too busy trying to get ourselves out of this mess. Back to the top of the hill again and Ash was almost set up, we backed my car as far as we could and hooked it. Phil was in Asheys car, Ash was in the middle, and then I got the green light to go.

The rope tightened and slowly it seemed to work, further and further I went and just as Phil almost got to the top, BANG................the knot broke and down again went the car! The second try succeeded much to our relief and we all went home for a couple of hours sleep. The next day. Helen from the Springbrook Homestead called at 8am to get the news of the night before, I relayed the nights movements and Andre went down there to look for prints. It didn't take long before I received an Email from Helen saying that the owner of the property and Andre found some fantastic footprints in the area we described and had cast one. I couldn’t wait to see the prints and it revved us all up to go again, especially after he made his final appearance that night when we were all too tuckered out to do anything about it.

Night number 4, The strange sticks. This night was an all nighter, we planned to stay in the cabin by the creek, have a BBQ and an all night watch. On the way myself and Ashley stopped off at the Springbrook Homestead to see the Plaster cast. Andre was there and showed us the cast, my eyes lit up immediately when I saw the size of the print, it was huge. As you'll see from the pictures in this report, the five toes are massive and the weight must be enormous. It really was a perfect cast just as they said, and the Asian tourists and visitors to the Homestead thought it was a real treat as they all clamoured to touch it. Ashley and myself met Phil and Warren at the property 1 hour before sun down.

We hauled all the gear down a 20 minute walk into the thick rainforest to the cabin. Phil and Warren started a fire as Ash and I went walking to the place we had "the spooks" on the previous night. As we got down to the swampy creek at the bottom of the property, we noticed the owner had been down there with the Tractor slasher and demolished all the evidence we had tracked. We walked and walked, but could not find what we did before. Just on dusk and keeping radio contact with Phil and Warren, we sat by the back fence looking into the dense swampy forest. After 10-25 minutes, we heard some cracking of branches as something came close to us, it was dark now and had very limited vision, but we could hear something heavy behind the trees about 30 metres from where we were sitting and talking. We knew it was no Wallaby because it was walking and not hopping, it wasn't on four legs and it was big, we thought "could this be our guy?"

Then................STOMP!......yep, it was him alright, giving us the warning we all know so well, this time it was a lot louder because he was much heavier than the my friend in the Blue Mountains. Then we heard it wonder off towards the cow paddocks and we were very disappointed he didn't want to play.

As he crept over the hill to the paddock, the cows started going crazy and this thing was screaming over the top of the cows. It was a scream I'd only heard about from fellow researchers but until this time, it was the first time for me to hear this particular noise, and the cows didn't like it at all.

On the walk back to camp the cows continually screamed with fear, and Phil and Warren could hear it too. As we got closer to the camp, we noticed many sticks driven into the ground and the further we walked, the more intense the sticks became.

They certainly weren’t there on they way down, there was no wind and many of the sticks were foreign to the surrounding trees. We pulled some sticks out and measured the depth in the ground, which we found between 2-3", they were all round us.

Warren and Phil came down to see what we talking about on the radios, and they too were surprised that they had "suddenly" appeared on the windless night. They were all around the outskirts of the camp and in places that we had previously walked. We sat and had some dinner before we headed out again, Phil couldn’t do much walking because he had a bad sore on his inner thigh, so he stayed back and monitored the camp.

Ash went one way and myself and Warren did a walk past where we had parked the cars on the last occasion. We came to an area where the foliage devastation was abundant, Warren found many odd things that we normally see in the Yowie areas, including markers, broken limbs and footprints.

On the way back we came across another interesting scene, more sticks driven into the ground where before there were none. It really had us scratching our heads. Ash met us at the top of the camp and we walked down the other side again only to find more of these sticks that were not there before. At that stage I phoned the owner and asked if there was anyone else down here, he said "definitely not".

One of the sticks was driven so hard into the ground that Warren had to use two hands and a ton of strength to pull it out. Phil sent a message over the radio saying that something big just went racing through the trees chasing a rabbit and killed it, so back to camp we went. We sat for a while and rested before myself and Ash headed off again to a different area. This time we found ourselves in a clearing near a stream. It was extremely dark and the bush was a thick jungle on the other side. As we got closer to the stream there was movement on the other side, then a clear odd sounding growl, then another and another. It was far too inaccessible to get over there, so we sat and listened.

There something over there, but hard to say what. Again, myself and Phil plucked the ticks leaches off ourselves and again Warren and Ash had none (must be something wrong with their blood we think!). We did many walks that night, but had no visual of the Yowie, however there were many signs of his presence.

The cows were still going crazy and the owner of that property drove his 4wd across the paddock to take a look. As I was preparing my bed in the hut, I notices five large Huntsman spiders on the wall and thought, "There’s no way I'm letting those things crawl over my face in the night, I'd rather sleep outside!" Ash took one look and decided to join me while Phil and Warren laughed at us.

We dragged a couple of sheets of roofing iron close to the fire and lay on that, while Phil and Warren slept in 5 star accommodation in comparison.

If we rolled a couple of inches left or right, we were face down in thick mud. The whole night we were freezing to death in zero degrees, while Phil was nice and warm, just in his tank top and wrapped in his sleeping bag, clutching his teddy bear.

We had a thin blanket which managed to cover our legs and became covered in dew. It was a rough night with about 2 hours sleep because of the cold, so when Phil got out of bed at 6am bright and cheery it was like he was rubbing it in! Still brain dead at the time, I could just hear Phil say, "Hey guys, you better take a look at this".

I plucked more leaches off and staggered through the mud to see, and there it was, giant footprints coming out of the creek to the cabin! They matched Andre's cast perfectly.

It looked like it had crept out of the creek and around the cabin where it could see where we were sleeping beside the fire. It was basically standing over us as we slept.

Warren, Ash and myself followed various tracks back up the creek and over the hill through some of the toughest jungle I've seen. There were footprints everywhere, and leading out to the cow paddock there were more. The whole area was devastated, completely broken down. While we were out the owner of the property came down to the camp, phil showed him the prints and he said that he didn't see them before.

In the morning, looking and feeling like train wrecks.

Night 5, The long walk. Phil wasn’t feeling too well and Warren had other commitments, so it was just Ashley and myself. Andre prepared some plaster to keep in the cabin for us, and we dropped by to pick it up. We spent 7 hours of walking through the forest finding all the most active parts of the area. We are now pretty sure that there is two Yowies in this and the surrounding properties.

The first action we had was near the cow paddock as we were tracking the prints. Along the way, Ashley found a large scat sample filled with bones, which is now bagged and tagged. As we came down towards the paddock the large crashing through the trees of a two legged creature disappeared in the bush and stopped.

We sat for a while and listened to it walk around us, then on with the torches for a chase, but it was just too quick. When we got back to the cabin several hours later and far more informed of its movements, we had crackling and an odour following us.

Ash lay in the bushes while I walked off whistling, Ash radioed me saying, "It's just taken at least 14 more steps towards you!" On with the torches and we raced into the bush, only to be out run. We played that game for 30 minutes, then moved on. As we walked past the cabin CRASH............Stomp, Stomp, CRASH! I thought it was coming at me and almost fell straight on my butt!

Myself and Ash took cover in the under growth of where I lay on the first night. We lay still and listened, CRUNCH, CRUNCH, CRUNCH...............it started to circle behind us, and the sound of two feet was obvious.

The trees started moving, then it stood still again. I had a sudden pain in my neck and stood up, just as I did that there was another shuffle in the bushes. Ash said I was covered in leaches, and they were so far in that he had to burn them out, he also brushed several off my cloths.

After the leach inspection was complete, it was back to work. We ran up to the last area we heard it in and Ash put the torch up through the trees, "There’s the eyes! Big red eyes!" Ash said. We took off up through the scrub and I saw them too. We made so much noise that we couldn’t have possibly heard it move.

It was gone when we finally got there, but then there was more noise below us now, so back down we crashed back to the clearing. It was far too thick in there to see anything, and we both decided that heat sensors would be the best way to go, and eventually gave up. We also noticed during the whole time we were in the clearing near the hut, that there was NO sticks in the ground, nor on any other occasion we had been there besides the night they appeared everywhere. We knew very well that it was definitely the Yowie that was still sitting there above us, but its a very difficult job to do without the right equipment. When we arrived back at the car, guess what we found?...................

A huge stick driven 3" into the ground beside the car! When I got home I found another Tick on my leg and more Leaches in my cloths. Final notes: We have tracked and confirmed the presence of Yowies in this particular area of Springbrook, we know he is at least an 8 footer. We may continue a further expedition to the property, and we express many thanks to the owner of the property who has been very generous, and to the Springbrook Homestead for all their help and support.

I would also like to give the rest of the guys of the AYR a big pat on the back for all the work they have done and the dedication they have shown. The most important note I would like to make is that the noises we heard in Springbrook were NOT of any other Australian bush animal.

© Copyright AYR

Australian Yowie Research - Data Base

www.yowiehunters.com

Details

Created: 31 January 2006

Location: Taree, New South Wales

Date: April, 2000

This expedition was basically just a reconnaissance to an area where the sightings of these creatures date back to the first settlement. The most recent sighting was only weeks before we arrived.

The property owner had been wanting us to visit his home in the mountainous terrain for almost a year to confirm what he and his neighbours had seen for many years in the fields and bushlands of their area.

Time was the biggest problem for us (with numerous other reports to follow up on), and we finally found a few spare days for the 7 hour drive. The main idea was to scour the bushland surrounding the properties for the usual traits of the Yowie, and to interview locals in view of a possible full expedition there in the future.

Because time was short, we travelled light there and left much of our equipment at home. The only brought two video cameras and an I.R. spotlight as main equipment, after all what could we expect to happen in two nights? .............................Or so we thought.

The moment we arrived we split into 3 units and spent 4 hours tracking various different areas. I chose to take the lower side of the property along a creek bed, while Ash, Steve and Trevor chose the higher grounds.

Once in the creek bed, almost immediately the rain washed footprints were apparent. They were all the same size in differing positions along the 3km of creek bed I followed. The prints weren't the largest I've seen (14"), however the instep was (as in most cases), the most distinguishing feature.

As I worked my way up the banks, I found a large 'hide' (hollow section in the middle of lantana), which was totally covered and unseen from most angles. There was one hole where I could access the hide, and once inside it was obvious that something large had lived there from time to time. The ground was well worn back to dirt and the roof and walls had been shaped to suit a large figure. The Yowie frequently chooses the cool lower ground of a stream where water is available during the day, and history tells us that this is where many daytime encounters take place.

Not far from this location back in the early 90's, a young girl who was horse riding along a long sandy creek bed was challenged and chased by a Yowie. The horse was the first to alert her that there was trouble ahead, and refused to go any further. The locals who knew the girl, all stood up for her insisting that she was not the kind of girl who would ever make up such a tale and when people came back to the area to check for the beast, they found a hide just like what I was standing in on this day.

Over the other side of the creek was a bed made of broken lantana which I also filmed. As I continued I found more prints, however due to a large amount of rain in the past week, not the best to cast. I could have, but prints are a dime a dozen and I only wanted very clear ones like the first Gympie trip.

Just before dusk Ash, Steve and Trevor returned to camp dinner and I headed back with some hangers on (leaches), for my can tin of Canned soup (Luxury living!).

The guys had found the spot in the long grass where the Yowie sits and watches the house and also tracks it uses, which gels with the accounts from the residents of the movements of the creature. Myself and Ash set up a quick hide in the undergrowth for the night close to where it sits. Steve and Trevor made on to the left of us about 200m away from us.

After around an hour of silence we heard footsteps coming down the mountain behind us. I had the video camera ready to roll and the I.R spotlight in my hands ready for what ever was about to pass us. Myself and Ash looked at each other as if to say "This is gunna be good!", when a radio patch came in from the house below and stopped the creature in its tracks directly behind us on the other side of the bushes about 15m away. Normally we had the radios turned down or used head sets for such a stake out, but we were trying a new brand of radio with lapel mics and had the volume turned up just a bit too loud.

For the next two hours, whatever it was never moved an inch. Not a twig broke or leaf dropped. After having a close encounter with a sneezing Kangaroo, Steve and Trevor moved to lower ground to stake out a different area.

At 3am whatever was behind us vanished without making a noise and we all met back at the camp. The guys went to bed at 4am, and I stayed up for an hour listening to something creeping around in the bush.

A few hours later after breakfast (more canned food), we split up again to look for further evidence. Steve and Trevor had taken the same path down the creek that I did a yesterday, I took the creek in the opposite direction and Ashley Milled around the forest area below the house. Ash didn't expect to wander far, so he wore only shorts and a Tee-shirt while checking tracks 100m from the house.

Steve found a Magpie that had been gutted on the edge of the stream. Everything seemed quite down my side of the stream except for the black Cockatoo's that were peeling pieces of bark off high up in the trees. I was trying to keep my boots from getting wet, carefully stepping on rocks and opting to go through lantana rather than step in the water. I took my time looking at everything around me when a radio patch came in from Ash saying that a rock had landed at his feet!

I was in two minds about it at first, I thought to myself that perhaps he had just knocked it and the roll made it "sound" like it landed? I radioed back to be sure that it was thrown and he wasn't mistaken. One thing I know for sure is that if you need someone who is right down the line and someone who is credible - its Ash. Ash isn't the kind of person who makes mistakes in this line of field work, he remains skeptical and draws all possible angles before making a claim - just the kind of person who is valuable on a team. He never "crie wolf", therefore when he finds something, you know its going to be good and not wasting our time. He has an A1 credibility rating within the group.

He then came back to say that the bushes were moving in the valley before him. Steve and Trev called in to say they would start to head back slowly due to the fact that the whole thing was odd. The bushes were still moving as a second rock fell to his feet.

Ash said, "Guys, this has to be him, start heading back this way". I radioed to say "Keep with him - don't lose him". I began to slowly head back when yet another message came through, "Its him, its him!! I just saw it, visual confirmed. Get back here!!" There was no time for dry feet as I ran through the water dodging the lantana and rocks while listening to the radio feeds next to my ear. Steve and Trev double timed it also. "He ran away from me, straight up the hill - I saw it clearly", said Ash as he talking to the residents who heard the whole thing via radio.

As I got to Ash, he explained the whole story. He said that while he was checking out some tracks below the house which were in the forest that was patched with lantana, a rock landed at his feet. He then saw the bushes move and another rock was thrown, again landing at his feet. As he approached the lantana a Roo jumped out on one side, then the 7ft grey/brown Yowie ran out from the other side about 20m away from the Roo. It ran extremely quickly with its arms swinging out to the sides straight up the hill and lost sight of it behind more lantana. It was our opinion that the Yowie was stalking the Roo when Ash came along. The Yowie could have wanted Ash out of there before he disturbed the Roo and through rocks at him to warn him off - as it would to any other animal to make it go away.

The tracks it left were unmistakable leading up the hill. Myself and Ash took the far end of the hill headed to the top. We donated sweat and blood to the lantana for a couple of hours before heading back to camp.

Zee turned up about 10pm and we all sat in the bush until about 3am catching up with him, then we headed back to camp and talked more. We had no need to do the hard yards that night - we came for a reason and that reason was to see if there was anything happening there (in our opinion), after all the reports that we've received from the area. Needless to say - yes there's something happening there! It has a big "A.Y.R Confirmed" stamp!

The plan is to now some how find the funding to sponsor surveillance.

© Copyright AYR

Australian Yowie Research - Data Base

www.yowiehunters.com