Sun, Stone and Still Water: A Full-Day Lake Argyle Adventure

From the Durack Homestead to sunset on Australia’s inland sea

A day made easy

We were picked up from our Kununurra accommodation in a luxury, air‑conditioned coach, the kind of detail that instantly lowers your shoulders. No maps, no transfers to juggle—just a comfy seat to the East Kimberley. As we left town, the landscape opened up into classic East Kimberley country: red dirt, boab trees and big skies. Our driver chatted about local history and life in Kununurra, and by the time we reached Lake Argyle—about an hour away—we already felt like we’d travelled much further than 70 kilometres.  

By mid-morning we were rolling toward Lake Argyle, where Australia’s largest freshwater lake waits like an inland sea held in cupped hands of red rock.

Durack Homestead: where the stories begin

First stop was the Durack Homestead Museum, a stone home with a story as vast as the country around it. Originally built in the 1890s by the Durack pastoral family, the homestead was moved, piece by numbered piece, to higher ground before the dam flooded the valley in the early 1970s. Inside we learned how drovers pushed thousands of head of cattle overland from Queensland to the Kimberley—months on the move, heat and dust and grit, and a vision that reshaped a frontier. That history adds a human heartbeat to the lake you see today.

Out on the water: Australia’s inland sea

We transferred to the boat and slid onto the lake under a winter sun that felt like spring. Lake Argyle sprawls among folded ranges and hundreds of islands—what once were hilltops are now tiny archipelagos. The captain-guide set an easy pace, tracing channels along weathered rock that glowed russet and honey in the light. Even in mid-winter, the warmth on the water made the day feel languid and generous.

Wildlife everywhere you look

We idled past freshwater crocodiles basking on sandstone shelves, their narrow snouts and golden eyes just clearing the water. Birdlife threaded the sky and shorelines: pelicans skimming low, cormorants wing-drying on driftwood, a darter like a periscope, jacanas stepping daintily across lilies.

On one island, a rock-wallaby flickered between shadows, a reminder that life here has adapted to a drowned landscape. One of the highlights was spotting a jabiru chick looking out of from its nest.

The dam wall and the scale of it all

Up close, the Ord River Dam is a humbling piece of engineering—a rock-fill wall holding back a lake that feels like an inland ocean. You sense the ambition of the Ord Irrigation Scheme, and how it reshaped this country into a mosaic of agriculture, wetland, and wilderness.

An island stop and the mystery of zebra rock

We stepped ashore on an island for a short walk, learning the story of zebra rock: a 600‑million‑year‑old banded siltstone found only in this region. The stripes are hypnotic—chocolate and cream bands frozen in time. We examined pieces weathering out of the ground and left them as we found them, a reminder that the Kimberley keeps its treasures best when we tread lightly.

Swim or sit and soak up the light

Later, the captain dropped anchor in a quiet cove. Some guests slipped into the lake for a freshwater swim - without any encounters with crocs; others stayed aboard and watched the rocks change colour minute by minute—apricot to rust to deep garnet—as the sun fell. By then the day had settled into that unhurried Kimberley rhythm where you notice small things: the clink of a glass, the soft scuff of the hull, the hush that follows a long breath.

Food, drinks, and easy hospitality

Lunch was simple and spot-on—fresh sandwiches that hit the hunger at the right time—followed by afternoon cheese and fruit platters. Chilled soft drinks and cold beer were available at intervals, and there’s something about a crisp drink on fresh water that tastes exactly like holiday.

Sunset, a friendly race, and home by starlight

As the sun tipped, we turned for home under a sky going copper and lavender. Another boat paced us for a while and we all leaned into a friendly race, laughing and cheering as the wakes braided together. Then the engine eased back and everyone went quiet, the way people do when a place gets under their skin. Back at the marina, our coach was waiting. We were dropped at our door in Kununurra after dark—tired, salty-haired, sun-warmed, and full of a day we’ll think about all winter.