This is the end my friends, Thursday Island. I'm off to the school to hand over the gift from way down south at Dover District High but otherwise there's only the thankyou's left to be said (final issue of newsletter in a day or two). In no particular order except for importance: my sincere thanks to Mum and Dad, brothers Matt, James and Jonny, Granny Hope Hughes and Granny Grace Hollingsworth, friends and other family out there (that's a catch-all), students and teachers from all the schools who've been following this journey, sponsors (AG, Utas SET, Sea to Summit and Power Plus), all the kind people who helped me lift the bloody boat or just stopped for a chat, and you sitting there reading this- you've tolerated and indulged me more than I deserve. Thankyou. And for my next trick I'll try to get off this island and wend my way south over the next six weeks. See you when I see you back in Tassie mid November.

With my books read (twice) and my radio way back on Restoration Island (flat batteries) there was only wandering around or paddling to be done.

Punsand Bay.

You little beauty, Cape York.

Orford Ness to Albany Island. The longest day of the trip at 70km but not the hardest with a tide and wind with me all the way. Sometimes a little too much wind but otherwise all good.

It was at Orford Ness, a beautiful place of mudflats, sandspits, mangroves and blah blah blah. Next photo please.

One more croc shot. This one slipped in just before I got there, eyeballed me from the water and disappeared without a sound.

Could I be so lucky! This silly old lizard was trying to swim against a shocking wind and tide with a turtle in its choppers. Next morning the turtle was abandoned on the beach. Or was it a trap, did it have eyes on a bigger prize?

Shelburne Bay to Captain Billy Landing. Blowing south-east and strong.

Most afternoons I would stalk about looking for crocs. I found this one sunning beside a creek behind Shelburne Bay. A moment later it was back in the water with a powerful and lightning quick flourish. If I could take a photo of my excitement it would be blurry and fluorescent.

Somewhere windy to somewhere else that was windy and then to here at Shelburne Bay. Still windy.

And twisted, defeated sticks too.

Restoration Island to somewhere very windy.

Dave's new puppy, Quasimodo. Wise but bitey.

Cape Direction to Restoration Island. Dave Glasheen, host spectacular opened up a box of rations when I arrived. Problem was that they weren't for me. Note to Anthony Malloch: I owe you 2 freeze dried meals and a ration of biltong. Dave owes you everything else but says you must come in person to collect it.

Saw another croc fishing in the shallows around the corner here. Looked happy enough.

Snavelled the odd coconut on the way up. A nice change from porridge and sultanas.

Yep, I did miss a day back there. This is Cape Direction.

Crocs. You can see the tracks of a big one and a little one coming out of the lagoon towards the ocean.

Cape Sidmouth to Cape Direction (or have I missed a day somewhere?).

Fife to Cape Sidmouth. First croc sighting here. From my camp on the hill I could see it fishing along the waters edge on the ocean side. RIGHT WHERE I LANDED.

Morning on Fife and the trade wind had died (it was the only time it did). Worth lingering.

Fife Island and my eternal enemy, the prickle. Note the two different weapons on display here. It's not unusual for the prickle fiends to cooperate in their sickening attacks.

Not often was it calm enough to put my feet up but this is hiding behind the snad spit.

Halfway to Fife Island on Magpie Reef (I think). the amount of sealife around these reefs is mind boggling. Just in this shallow bay there were schools of fish small and large, reef sharks, sting rays, turtles, blah blah blah.

Stanley Island to Stainer Island. This was a long day dodging around reefs and through shipping lanes. Bird poo and isolation are the attractions here.

Cape Melville to Stanley Island. Anchored off the distant sandspit is a French couple sailing around the world. I went aboard and ate bread with jam and drank coffee. Might do it in a yacht next time, more comfortable.

It was down the beach at the 4WD camp that a man was dragged from his tent by a croc and grandma jumped on it. Remember that one? I created a series of obstacles and early warning systems just in case. No croc for me though.

The cape and receding range are enormous piles of roundish granite. Stunning.

Cape Melville.

Aha, I know where that was. Cape Melville fresh water spring. I filled up on my way past and then boulder hopped back for a wash later in the afternoon.

Mmm, I'd have to check my diary for where is. Empty.

Tap, tap, hello. Anyone in there?

Flattery to a Turtle Group island.

Bedford to Cape Flattery. There's a silica mine and loading facility here but I stayed out of the way around the corner.

From Cooktown to Cape Bedford. Actually I came right around the cape and across the bay to these sensational coloured sands.