Wednesday, 16 June 1948. As is to be expected, this being the arrival day at Iron Range Airport for the T.I.-bound plane, mail has been the biggest thing. Next only to its arrival is the job of getting the outgoing stuff ready, but it is all done now. Other events of the day pale into insignificance but this evening we took the biggest snake of the trip, so far. Back on snakes again, somehow. It was just a carpet snake but its length was 10 feet 10 inches and its weight over six pounds. The surprising part of these creatures is their lack of weight. I think my mind is not on journal entries this evening and I shall cut this off now. Much is much preferable. Thursday, 17 June 1948. A somewhat amusing thing happened at Thursday Island, amusing provided we are able to obtain a proper adjustment. Mills, the B-P man there, was instructed to insure our cargo for the trip down to Portland Roads for one thousand pounds. B-P handle their own insurance, in fact there is an insurance company amongst their subsidiaries, and all North Queensland insurance is placed through Dupain, in Cairns. Mills said he would wire Dupain so we left it at that. In the mail yesterday there was a letter from Dupain quoting Mills' telegram but it asked coverage of one hundred thousand pounds. Mills must have been on a bat with his two brothers, but I am now waiting for some kind of settlement since the premium for that amount must run to a considerable sum. Had I known we had that much coverage, I could very profitably have scuttled the ship. Today has been very much run-of-the-mill for me, with no particular high lights. George and Van were delighted with a porcupine taken by one of the blacks, as it was on their list of "musts" and so far had not been obtained. Though there was no high light, there was one sad and dim one. Our fresh meat arrived from Coen yesterday and we had good steaks for breakfast with the promise of a rib roast for lunch. The roast was tainted though and impossible to eat. That was a dim light indeed. Friday, 18 June 1948. Len and I climbed Mount Shea this morning, a small hill which shows on none of the maps. It was in no way a severe climb, being only 600 feet, but the angle was steep and the side of the hill composed of a slippery clay over an equally slippery ironstone. Neither of us found enough up there in the way of specimens really to justify the climb, even though it was not severe. My catch was limited to a few bugs of varying degree and no fewer than six scorpions taken within a quarter of an hour. I think I should not like to sleep on the side of Mount Shea. No definite decision has yet been reached in the matter of a move from here but probably the end of next week may be about right. It is rather likely that we shall not make a camp at the Lower Claudie, which is open, flat and muddy country with poor fauna and not much in the way of flora. It might be a likely place for my sea-going crocs but that will not be enough inducement for the establishment of a camp there. I can get along without the crocs, so far as that goes, as we are reasonably sure to get something around Coen, which comes later on, and Annie River, if we go out that way. The days slip by very quickly, now that we are past the half-way mark. Weather is poor, cloudy and showery, but it is winter here. Our daily temperatures would average somewhere around 85 to 88 degrees but the evenings and ights are cool and good for sleeping.