It had been four years since David Littlejohn’s last visit to the Northern Territory and the allure of adventure had grown too strong to resist. With a close mate and his family settled in Katherine, the call of the wild came in the form of tantalising photos of buffalo bulls grazing on their small block. A road trip was inevitable. The journey began with a 15-hour trek from Townsville to Barkly Roadhouse for an overnight rest. The following day, another 10 hours behind the wheel brought David to the main gate of a sprawling cattle station, where he parked up in one of the machinery sheds. The real adventure was set to begin the next day.

The plan was simple: spend five days on a massive cattle station, over a million acres of untamed wilderness, fishing with a bit of hunting on the side. The property owner, a good friend of David’s mate, gave them free reign. “You know where you’re going, just do what you want,” he said and with that, the duo launched a boat into the upper reaches of the Roper River. Within minutes, a 70cm barramundi was on deck. “This is gonna be a good trip,” they thought. That evening, as they relaxed with a cold beverage on the homestead balcony, a 4-metre crocodile leisurely drifted up the middle of the river, just 50 metres from where they sat - an eerie reminder of the Northern Territory’s wild side.

But Mother Nature had her own plans. Temperatures plunged over the next few days, an unusual cold snap for the Top End. In the Northern Territory, 15 degrees is considered chilly, so when morning temperatures dipped to 5 degrees and lower, it became a hot topic of conversation around the dinner table. On the morning of their departure, the mercury hit a frigid 3 degrees. One chopper pilot, bundled in every piece of clothing he owned, still shivered as he made his way to his R22 helicopter. David, thankfully, had packed a jumper and long pants, though it was little consolation - the cold had put a damper on the barramundi fishing. Instead, they shifted focus to hunting, with hopes of bagging a few pigs.

The “swamp” was the place to be, though with a cautionary warning: “Don’t go too deep - big lizards live there.” And by lizards, of course, they meant crocodiles. David approached the task with understandable caution. Vehicle tracks into the swamp were scarce and as the late afternoon sun dipped, they finally found one that led them close to their target. Stepping out of the car, David remarked, “Looks ideal for hogs,” just as a mob of 15 pigs broke cover a mere 20 metres away. As they approached the edge of the swamp, a scene straight out of a nature documentary unfolded. To their left, a herd of buffalo grazed; in the middle, a good-sized boar was feeding on water lilies; and in the distance, a large male buffalo loomed, too far away to stalk with the limited light left. A noisy mob of pigs drew closer, their presence audible but unseen. Unfortunately, daylight ran out, and the hunters were forced to retreat as swarms of mozzies chased them back to the vehicle. Over the next few days, they spotted upwards of 200 pigs, but the dense grass and deep water channels made hunting a frustrating challenge. On more than one occasion, David had pigs just a metre in front of him, but the thick cover obscured them from view, keeping his adrenaline levels high.

One hunt, in particular, stood out - a mid-morning excursion to the northern end of the swamp. They spotted a good boar feeding in a trampled section, just 50 metres in. With the wind in his favour, David stealthily made his way through knee-deep, cold, stinky, slushy mud, getting within 15 metres of his target. He waited patiently for the boar to turn and present a clear shot at its vitals. The moment came and David let his arrow fly. The boar spun at the impact, wobbled and was down in under 15 seconds, taking only a few steps before collapsing. The beauty of bowhunting allowed David to remain undetected and soon, he managed to take down two more good-sized boars from the same mob. But when they disappeared into the tall grass and deeper sections, David’s survival instincts kicked in - he wasn’t about to follow them into crocodile territory. With numb feet from the frigid water, he retreated to solid ground.

That night, recounting the hunt with one of the chopper pilots, they learned that two large crocs had been spotted just 500 metres from their hunting location. It was another unforgettable adventure in the NT, where the cold had been as much of an adversary as the wild animals.

But despite the challenges, David left with another great story under his belt, a testament to the unpredictable and untamed nature of the Northern Territory.