I love my husband. My husband loves camping. Therefore, I love camping.

Ok, it’s not that bad. I actually really enjoy being in the middle of the rainforests of North Queensland. This weekend, we headed up to Broadwater (where Nick proposed) with three other couples. We had an amazing time. The boys, feeling unnaturally free in the outdoors, refused to suntan with us girls on the rocks. In fact, we barely saw them. Every so often, I would see a red fishing pole spike up in the air behind some rocks and know Nick’s whereabouts.
Frankly, I was happy not to have to engage in the task of fishing. It was laborious enough to try and get into a floaty in the water without getting soaked.
Girls like the water but don’t like getting wet.
After our afternoon in the river, we set up our tent and Nick blew up the air mattress that left little room for anything else. Compared to our friends’ tents, ours looked like a garage for a go-kart. Not that I am complaining. It took Nick approximately 3.5 minutes to set it up.
It was then, when he was finished setting it up, that I suggested that maybe it was too close to the other tents. Despite obvious irritation, Nick moved the tent back the appropriate meter-age for his socially insecure wife.
We spent a wonderful evening around the campfire, swapping stories and stuffing our faces with marshmallows. Though I enjoy the limelight, Nick really is the star of camping stories. Tales of his Junior High Vice Principal never fail to amuse those who are listening. He was also our token pyromaniac and wowed our friends with his ability to make a plastic bag look like fireworks. It was quite entertaining.
Then came the time of night that I dreaded. Sleeping.
I love to sleep. Love it. But I hate that I am so irritatingly aware of every single surrounding noise when I try to do this thing that I love so much.
First, I refused to get any dirt WHATSOEVER in the tent. I took off my runners and carefully stepped on to my flip flops which acted as the front porch of our go-kart garage. Using Nick as a hand rail, I awkwardly made my way into the tent. Of course, I touched a bare toe to the dirt before I got in.
Then, I was too close to the wall of the tent. Lord only knows what’s crawling up and down the sides. In the 4.7 centimeters of room on either side of the air mattress, I deduced in the dark that there was definitely more room on Nick’s side of the tent. He silently obeyed my plea to move the air mattress (nearly impossible with me on it).
Finally, we had settled in and Nick was already breathing in deep heavy rhythms. I was, of course, wide awake. It was then that I heard a boom in the distance. I decided it had to be one of the other campsites, moving wood around for their fire. It was reason enough to put myself at ease.
Hours later, the urge to use the facilities was so great that I woke up. The campground was silent. Everyone was clearly asleep. Great, I thought. No way was I getting up to go now. I laid there and willed myself back to sleep. In the distance, I heard the large boom again, rattling throughout the forest.
What the heck was that?
I tried to time the booms to see if they were consistent. As soon as I had that thought, two booms resonated close within one another. It was then that my brain started to concoct images of giant river monsters, throwing boulders at one another. What else could have made that noise?
Nick stirred and I jumped at my opportunity.
“Nick?”
“Hmpph..”
“I have to pee…” I waited a long time for a response. Nothing. I decided that I would have to hold it because there was no way I was going to the bathroom in such a terrifying environment.
What seemed like an hour later, Nick rolled over.
“Do you still have to go?”
Oh, thank God.
“Yeah.”
Nick shimmied out of his sleeping bag and we braved our way through the campground to the toilets. It was way too dark to mention the booms. My only goal was to relieve myself. Thankfully, I was able to fall back asleep when we reentered our tent.
In the morning, we all packed up and made our way home by late afternoon. It was then in the car ride home that I mentioned the strange noises.
“Hey, did you hear a loud boom in the middle of the night?” I asked Nick. I expected him to shake his head, no. He had heard nothing but my plea to use the toilet.
“Yeah, I did.”
“Really?” I exclaimed. So I wasn’t crazy! “Do you think they were, like, coconuts dropping or something?”
Nick scoffed.
“No way,” he said, “they were too loud.”
Of course they weren’t coconuts, silly. I knew that. We sat in silence and I again thought of every possibility and concluded that there had to be river monsters, bowling in the night. I didn’t mention this to Nick, though. But if YOU’RE ever at Broadwater National Park, listen closely to the night. You may hear the booms, too.

Editor’s note: Since posting this article, we’ve had some theories about what the booms could be. One guy told us that there was a military base nearby and he said they do testing of artillery during the night – a little bit scary. Another guy said that the sugar cane farmers will have timed booms during the night to keep the wild pigs away from the cane – a little more plausible.

But you decide!

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