It was on a small island, north of Broome, and southwest of Darwin that it hit me like a sledgehammer. The intense spirituality of the indigenous people who have lived in the far-flung Kimberley region for thousands of years, and their intrinsic relationship with the land almost knocked me over.

Exploring the granitic outcrops set back from the silica beach, I was mesmerised by rock art thousands of years old. Peering into rock crevices, crawling on my hands and knees beneath delicately balanced overhangs in order to view the beautifully preserved, yet cunningly hidden, rock art, I was shocked to come across two human, child sized skulls gently wedged into a crevice. 

Finding human bones tends to knock me around a bit. Not that I make a habit of it, but my nerves were as tight as a violin string already, expecting man-eating crocodiles to appear at any moment. Our guidebook had warned of Kimberley crocodiles with a penchant for soft grey rubber. Just the sort of material yacht tenders are made of! So I was understandably somewhat nervous each time we ventured ashore during our Kimberley sojourn.

Moving sombrely away in order to escape the intense disquiet I felt, I soon found myself drawn back to the crevice concealing the skulls. I was intrigued by the culture of the people who had placed these skulls here.  How old were they and how had they died? I was left with many unanswered questions that I still wonder about many months after unexpectedly stumbling upon this sacred site. The skulls were carefully positioned side by side in order to keep watch over the beach we had landed on earlier: their unseeing eyes absorbed the suns rays each evening as the sun set across the bay. Hauntingly, this vision stays with me long after the memories of an aubergine sky as the full moon set, or the shameless scarlet sky as the sun set, have dimmed somewhat. 

Our cruise encompassed many opportunities to visit rock art sites. In this predominantly uninhabited region we discovered pristine rock art galleries dating back at least 17,000 years, some say up to 60,000 years. The ancient treasures of this inhospitable land are considered by some to be the eighth wonder of the world. Known as Gwion Gwion by the traditional people, the rock art is also known as Bradshaw paintings, after the European explorer Joseph Bradshaw documented his discoveries in 1891.

There are many documented sites, (over 100,000 Bradshaw galleries to start with!)  but with a little intrepidity, and some local knowledge, it is possible to discover art sites well off the beaten track. Visiting the Joseph Bonaparte Gulf, we were inspired to search for art using hand drawn mud maps passed on to us. The Kimberley inspires this sort of gung ho adventuring. Forging our way through spinifex, across enormous boulders, through a bat filled crevice, and scrambling high up a small cliff face, we found ourselves surrounded by rock outcrops that looked just the sort of site to house ancient middens and rock art.  We were soon rewarded for our boldness. We found breathtakingly beautiful rock art, much of it well preserved, but others slowly disappearing as the shale like rock flaked away: some of these beautiful images were now lost forever. So remote were we, and so palpable was the spirituality of this place, we wondered if we were the first 'white fella' to visit this site.

Some disoriented 'white fellas' left a most unusual footprint in nearby Vansittart Bay. Almost 60 years ago, a DC3 pilot found himself low on fuel, and, disoriented by bad weather after dark, made an emergency landing on what he could only surmise to be a salt lake.  Two crew and two passengers were lucky to survive and were rescued two days later by a Qantas flying boat. The predominantly intact wreckage is still clearly visible, and worthy of a visit, quietly nestled amongst the pandanus palms near Jar Island.

Many cruises will include a visit to spectacular Raft Point (so named because the traditional people used mangrove tree rafts to travel out to their fishing grounds on the falling tide and return to land on the incoming tide). Walking up a short but steep track behind the rocky beach, we found an astounding rock art gallery.  High up in the sandstone cliffs, overlooking the sheltered waters of Doubtful Bay and the aptly named Steep Island, the walls and roof of the cave have been intricately cloaked in scores of paintings depicting the unique Gwion Gwion, as well as dugongs, turtles and other marine creatures.

The Kimberley has so many enchanting bays, rivers and sounds it is impossible to see everything in just one visit. Amongst the 'thousand islands' of the dramatically named Buccaneer Archipelago, there are enough highlights here alone to keep the most jaded cruiser happy. In fact, some travellers fall so deeply in love with the Kimberley they never leave. Local characters Phil and Marion sailed in many years ago on their own yacht and have since set up camp in Silvergull Creek, now known as the 'Squatters Arms'. Visitors are welcomed; some find it hard to resist the hospitality and the freshwater plunge pool here as the rum often flows freely.

The north west of Australia has the ability to mesmerise like no other region I have visited. As Mark Twain once said 'Twenty years from now you will be more disappointed by the things that you didn't do, than the ones you did'. So throw off the bow line, sail away from the safe harbour and catch the soft gentle breeze in your sails. 

Nowhere is this more appropriate than in the Kimberley. With its breathtaking wilderness, ancient rock art and swickedl scarlet sunsets, the vast Kimberley offers an outstanding experience, so much of it only accessible by sea. And you know what? That is exaclty a part of its appeal.