Expedition awe: How 10 days in the ancient Kimberley will change you

Life jackets. Check. Sunscreen and hat. Check. Been to the loo? Check. Been to the loo again? Check. My sister and I are perched at the edge of our beds, awaiting the summons over the PA from Billy, the Zodiac-passenger whisperer, a young South African bloke who's a bit of a card and knows how to wrangle a crowd. We're in the orange group, scheduled to disembark at 8.20am, last in the queue this morning behind the reds, greens, pinks and blues.

The anticipation in our twin-single suite on deck 4 is palpable. We're anchored in Koolama Bay on the Kimberley coast, about to clamber awkwardly off the ship and into a Zodiac for a two-hour-plus excursion up the King George River, to a sight that I am sure will be one of the most spectacular I will ever behold. Actually, the whole excursion's like that. Who knew rocks could be so soul-movingly stunning? Rugged cliffs of burnt-orange, 1.8-billion-year-old sandstone guard the river on both sides, towering above us as we approach the King George twin waterfalls that smash into the river from 80 metres above.

We're on a 10-night cruise, from Darwin to Broome, on Silversea's Silver Cloud. She's a small, luxury expedition ship purposed for the Antarctic, as evidenced by the historic black-and-white photographs of the great polar expeditions and explorers hung around the ship. You can get lost in their fascinating detail - there's the doomed Captain Scott, at what would be his last birthday dinner - but they're incongruous, too, here on Australia's remote north-western coast. The contrast between that great white continent and the Kimberley is so profound, they could be two different planets. Although one thing they have in common: adventurous cruisers are flocking to both in numbers that keep growing.

There are 222 passengers on our sailing, nearly three-quarters of them Australians. It's not the easiest boarding day, and a disaster for some - embarkation is delayed for hours due to a biosecurity inspection, and then at the terminal, about nine passengers are denied boarding because they didn't bring their Australian passports.

Ultimately, 10 nights proves a generous chunk of time to lose yourself in the rhythms of small-ship life, and to have a rollcall of adventures that would virtually be impossible without a boat to get you there. Zodiac rides across shimmering waters take us to a succession of places that shift something inside you, like Horizontal Falls and Montgomery Reef, where massive tides create powerful and mesmerising events. There are bushwalks into hallowed areas of ancient Indigenous rock art: at Freshwater Cove, or Wijingarra Butt Butt, we are on Worrorra country, and welcomed on the beach by the traditional owners who dab ochre onto our cheeks.

On board, the fact we have a butler, the gorgeous Elizabeth from Zimbabwe, underlines the high-end nature of the Silversea fleet. "Please use me," Elizabeth instructs as she delivers a welcome bottle of champagne to our cabin. It's a sweet beginning to an oncoming parade of truly magnificent moments.

After a leisurely sea day, we drop anchor for the first time, in the Timor Sea about 460 nautical miles west of Darwin. A 20-minute Zodiac ride to Ashmore Reef Marine Park takes us into the heart of a seabird city - and the politics around illegal immigration from Indonesia, which is only 170 kilometres north of here. A Border Force patrol boat is visible in the distance; much closer is a pretty white fishing boat with red trim, anchored and empty, picturesquely bobbing about. Our Zodiac driver and guide, Malcolm Turner - aka the Birdman (he's an ornithologist) - explains boats such as those are used to send intercepted asylum seekers back to Indonesia, and also to provide passage home for legal fishermen with boat troubles.

But we're here to see the birds and they are everywhere - atop octopus bushes and nestled on the island's white sand, and wheeling noisily around overhead. Frigate birds, sooty terns, red-tailed tropic birds, red-footed boobies, brown noddies (one of whom hovers for a bit above our Zodiac and dead-set eyeballs us) - it's a twitchers' Shangri-la.

About 100,000 seabirds breed here every year, Malcolm explains - just as the excitement notches up when he spots a white-tailed tropic bird. "You rarely see them," he says. "They usually breed on rocky cliffs." Thousands of shorebirds also stop by during their migratory journeys, and green turtles lay their eggs here ... with his binoculars, Malcolm can see evidence of them on the sand. "A big female green turtle went up last night - her tracks are on the beach," he says.

My sister and I are immediate fans of the Birdman. He's such a pro. And we are thrilled, three days later, when we score him again on our expedition up the King George River. It's another balmy, blue-sky, 25+ degree day and Malcolm gives his eight Zodiac passengers a briefing before we begin our 13-kilometre trip up the river, along with 22 other Zodiacs (departure times are staggered in order to spread them out). There are saltwater crocs in these waters, and we see our share of them today, and in the days ahead. "If you fall out, I shall come out and get you ... I even have a rope I can throw to you," says Malcolm, our would-be saviour, standing at the till in his unmissable bright yellow, watermelon-patterned socks.

It's day four just after 7am and we're in a bright orange bus barrelling down a section of the Great Northern Highway - a 3195-kilometre stretch of sealed road starting in Perth and ending in Wyndham, Western Australia's northernmost town, where the Silver Cloud is at dock for the day. Gazetted in 1886, Wyndham has a volunteer-run museum in an old courthouse, a racetrack that hasn't been used for five years, and historic buildings like the circa-1900 Lee Tong shop, long empty but an echo of the town's gold-rush beginnings. We've soon left it behind us, on the way passing a turnoff to a cemetery where Afghan cameleers are buried, their graves facing westwards towards Mecca.

One of the shore excursions here is a historic tour of Wyndham but we've opted to visit El Questro and two hours or so later, we are climbing into open-sided safari-style trucks coated in the Kimberley's signature red dust to tour a smidgen of the 283,000-hectare former pastoral lease. Much of the vast expanse is now back in the hands of traditional owners the Ngarinyin people, and run by tourism leaseholders, G'Day Group.

We hit the jackpot again with our guide: he's the head ranger here, Vinnie, and his eyes twinkle beneath the brim of his Akubra. We rattle around for about 90 minutes, along gnarly dirt roads and through landscapes of eucalypts and wattles, native fruit trees and heathers, and abundant ground plants such as spinifex, of which Vinnie talks at length. "Spinifex resin is the smell of the Kimberley," he declares.

At one point we stop to take in views of distant escarpments, and Vinnie shows us how to start a fire using speargrass fibre and a firestick from the kapok tree, another abundant species here whose yellow flowers pop against the endless blue sky. But the days are short this far north. We arrive back at the ship about 5.15pm, just as the sun has disappeared below the horizon. And waiting for us on the Cloud are a line of crew members, dressed in suit tails with black bow ties and white gloves, holding a big banner sign that says "welcome home".

In one of the puzzles of this mystical, hypnotic land, it seems no one is quite sure how the bottle-shaped boab tree - found elsewhere in the world only in Madagascar and Africa - got to the Kimberley. Perhaps its seeds floated across the Indian Ocean on the currents, or migrating humans brought the seeds with them as a food source.

Our guide Will - one of the Cloud's 28-strong expedition team, which bristles with scientists - explains the various theories behind the tree's origins as we stand before a possibly 800-year-old beauty at Vansittart Bay, where we've just walked across mudflats to view the wreckage of a C53 troop carrier that crashed here in 1942.

Some among us give the tree a hug, as we've been encouraged to do. ("You don't have to be a tree hugger to want to hug the boab tree," we've been told.) At El Questro, Vinnie stops the truck by a boab, cracks open one of its big seed pods and gives us all a taste of the pithy, vitamin C-rich innards, which after a moment deliver a little hit of citrus. He is sure to taste it himself first, "to make sure I don't kill you all; that'd be no good."

On our last night on board, passengers gather in the Explorer Lounge for the final daily briefing, accompanied by the customary cocktails and canapes. Senior expedition leader Marieke Egan takes us back to the now distant beginning of our cruise, and leads us forward again through all the highlights.

The boab trees are among them, and the birds, crocodiles, dolphins, snakes and turtles we have seen; the Indigenous storytelling we've heard; and the great waterfalls that have literally rained down upon us. "We've come 1817 nautical miles," she says. "It's a decent journey we have undertaken along that beautiful coast." Which sounds a bit understatement-y, until Marieke reads out a poem that brings our journey to its symbolic end: "The Kimberley was born by fire, bent by pressure, built by rivers, cut by ice, drowned by the sea, and burned by the sun." Everyone cheers and applauds, and files out of the Explorer Lounge one last time.

The first photo I snap on board the Silver Cloud is of a tray of mini pastries brought around by a waiter in the main dining room, The Restaurant, which becomes our culinary go-to - it's on the same deck as our cabin, and we love the fun and friendly table service. Plus, portions are small, which means you can have three courses and not be groaning in defeat by the end of it.

THE SHIP: Silversea's Silver Cloud

THE SIZE: 157 metres long, 127 suites, 254 guests

GOOD TO KNOW: Three-quarters of the suites have private balconies; missing out are the entry-level Vista Suite cabins, of which there are 24. They have large picture windows instead, and are on the same deck as the self-service laundry - a hugely popular facility.

GET ON BOARD: Silver Cloud has Darwin-return Kimberley itineraries in June and July this year, from $13,200 per person. The ship has 10-night sailings between Darwin and Broome from June to August in 2026, from $12,300.

EXPLORE MORE: silversea.com

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The writer was a guest of Silversea