[toc]A weekend away[/toc]
When David set out for a weekend of camping at Gunn Point, a rugged, off-grid stretch of Northern Territory coastline, he was expecting the usual: sunsets, campfire cooking, and a dose of the wild freedom the place is famous for.
Gunn Point, he explains, “is a bit of a lawless kind of place. You can drive right onto the beach. There’s fireworks at night, kids on dirt bikes tearing up the sand, no rangers in sight.”
David and a friend had driven his trusty 1990 Suzuki four-wheel-drive deep into the remote section known as Glyde Point, about 45 minutes north of Darwin. “It’s slow going in that old girl,” he laughs. “…the poor thing struggles when loaded up with camping gear.”
[caption]David's beloved Suzuki is always ready to take him on any adventure[/caption]
They’d set up camp and cooked a hearty lamb shank stew in the camp oven. David recalls the calm weather conditions with “no wind all afternoon. It was hot, still … one of those nights you think you’ll never sleep,” he recalls. That changed in an instant.
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[toc]The gust[/toc]
After dinner, a sudden sea breeze picked up. David stood to secure the awning ropes, worried the gust might lift them. His friend began cleaning dishes near the rear of the car.
“All of a sudden I hear a scream,” he says. “I turned around and she wasn’t where she’d been a second ago. Then I saw her standing at the rear of the car holding her leg and I thought she must have hit her ankle on the towbar.”
[pullquote]As I got a bit closer, I realised there was blood all down her leg and her Crocs were all full of blood as well.[/pullquote]
A sheet of corrugated iron, used as a makeshift wind shield around their fire, had been picked up by the gust and flung straight at her leg.
[caption]The corrugated sheet that turned into a weapon in the wind.[/caption]
“It just came out of nowhere,” says David. “It was pretty graphic. A flap of skin had peeled down, and I could see bone. The blood was coming out with her heartbeat.”
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[toc]Acting on instinct[/toc]
In a place with no phone signal, no one nearby, and a rough bush track between them and the nearest hospital, he had to act fast.
[pullquote]I went straight to my first aid pack. I always keep it in my grab-bag, which has emergency shelter, fire gear, and my first aid kit.[/pullquote]
Inside was a Rapid Stop tourniquet he had bought months earlier from the Rescue Swag store, after attending a bushcraft course led by a former army instructor.
“He’d talked about tourniquets, and I realised how important they can be. When I got mine, I actually practised with it on my own leg, worked out the ratchet system, learned how to release it.”
That decision turned out to be life-saving.
He applied the tourniquet to his friend’s lower leg, just below the knee, to stem the bleeding. “I could see it was bad. I wrapped it tight, got her into the passenger seat, and told her to sit still.”
In the rush, he reflects that he forgot to cover the wound to protect it from dirt and infection, but he’d achieved the most critical thing: slowing the bleeding.
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[toc]The drive through the dark[/toc]
With the tourniquet correctly administered, David packed up just enough gear to move the car.
[pullquote]I wasn’t worried about the rest. There was no one else around for ten k’s. We just needed to get out.[/pullquote]
The drive to Palmerston Hospital, about 45 minutes away, felt endless. “Inside, I was panicking,” he admits, “but I knew if I showed that, she’d panic too. So I just kept chatting and making jokes to keep her awake.”
The track was rough, and every bump risked aggravating her leg. He worried about the car breaking down, about the bleeding starting again, about being stranded with no reception.
“During the drive she got less and less talkative. Her head went back on the headrest, and she seemed a bit sleepy,” he recalls. “So I kept talking, just to make sure she stayed awake.”
By the time they reached the emergency entrance, David estimated “about half a litre” of blood had pooled in the rubber floor mats of the Suzuki.
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[toc]Recognition at the hospital[/toc]
When David ran inside asking for help, staff initially told him there’d be a short wait. Then they saw the blood on his hands. Within seconds, a wheelchair was rolling toward the car.
His friend, had already tried to walk herself inside, leaving a trail of blood through the foyer.
[pullquote]That’s when the nurses noticed the tourniquet and started asking questions.[/pullquote]
“They kept saying, ‘Who put this on?’ I thought they were joking, but they were actually impressed. They said, ‘You wouldn’t believe how many people come in here with a rope or a shirt wrapped around their leg. No one ever has a tourniquet!’”
The hospital staff left the tourniquet in place and scans later revealed two severed tendons and a small fracture. She underwent surgery at Royal Darwin Hospital that night and spent several days recovering before being discharged with crutches.
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[toc]After the dust settled[/toc]
Months later, David says his friend is back on her feet, though she still has some tingling in the leg. “She’s walking again and back at work, which is the main thing.”
Since in the incident, David has kept the same tourniquet—washed, bloodstained, and ready to go.
[pullquote]It’s back in my first aid kit now, wrapped up just like before. It’s got a story to tell.[/pullquote]
[caption]David's lifesaving toriquet[/caption]
The experience hasn’t stopped him from adventuring, either. “If anything, I’m just more aware. I always take the kit now, whether I’m hiking mountains or beach camping. You just never know.”
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[toc]Preparedness in practice[/toc]
David believes practicing with your gear is just as important as owning it.
“When I first opened that tourniquet, I had no idea how it worked. If I’d waited until someone was bleeding to figure it out, that would’ve been too late. So I put it on myself a few times and worked out how it tightens, how to release it.”
[pullquote]That two minutes of practice made all the difference.[/pullquote]
He’s since bought first aid kits and tourniquets for friends, with one condition: “You have to open it, take it apart, and learn how to use it.”
He’s also customised his own kit to suit his Northern Territory lifestyle: “I carry vinegar for jellyfish stings, potassium permanganate for sterilising water, a snake bandage, and just the essentials. No point carrying four pairs of scissors and five eye patches, you pack for what you think you’ll face.”
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[toc]Passed the test[/toc]
Looking back, David sums it up simply: “I made a few mistakes, sure. But if I hadn’t had that tourniquet, and hadn’t practised, it could have been a very different story.”
He’s modest about his actions, but the hospital staff weren’t wrong: very few people would have been that prepared, that calm, and that effective under pressure.
From bushcraft lessons to the rough drive out of Glyde Point, it’s a story that underlines a simple truth: being prepared matters.
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[toc]Lessons for every adventurer[/toc]
[tip number="1" title="Know your gear before you go"]
Don’t wait for an emergency to learn what’s in your first aid kit. Confidence comes from practice, not panic.
[/tip]
[tip number="2" title="Pack for where you are"]
Remote travel means real risks. A tourniquet and snake bandage should always be in reach when you’re off the grid.[/tip]
[tip number="3" title="Control the bleed first"]
In the moment, priorities matter. Stop the bleeding, then cover and protect the wound.[/tip]
[tip number="4" title="Keep calm, keep talking"]
Reassurance prevents shock. A steady voice and clear head can be just as vital as any bandage.[/tip]
[tip number="5" title="Have a backup plan"]
Know your nearest hospital, and carry reliable communication — a UHF or PLB could save a life when phones can’t.[/tip]
