This is the second part to the trip report I posted early David Whyte Australia Around Tasmania part 2 Vivid red rocks glistened in the morning light as the sea spray hit the brightly coloured lichen. We followed a coastline of rolling hills, semi-green pastures with the mountains of St Marys Pass providing a scenic backdrop. The large swell, which was no problem off shore, stopped us landing and it was mid afternoon before we were able to find a sheltered cove, eventually pulling in at Long Nose Point to stretch our legs. It was here that we deviated from the Reverend Fairey's trip; he'd hitched a ride on a horse and dray, bypassing the outside of Frecyinet Peninsula altogether. We paddled the remaining 13 kilometres over to Bicheno, taking a day off to wash our clothes and stock up on food. The predicted weather for our day of departure caused us some concern, with strong wind warnings forecast. As the wind was going to be behind us, we decided to head off anyway, though in retrospect we should have waited another day. By lunchtime we were running before a gale. It was during this day that nature showed us not only its ferocity but also its beauty. While we were paddling I noticed on the far eastern horizon a flock of birds, possibly shearwaters, that had no start, no end, stretching as far as I could see. There seemed a certain poignancy, we rode the sea in our small craft, the shearwaters rode the wind, in their even smaller bodies. A juxtaposition of journeys, ours to enhance our lives but theirs the very essence of life itself. I felt privileged to be witnessing a phenomenon that has probably been happening for tens of thousands of years. It was this wind that finally brought us safely into Wineglass Bay. Once past the headland the anxiety and vulnerability slowly dissipated and I started to relax as I paddled the few remaining kilometres to the beach. A lack of concentration saw Mike and I upended in the surf. My head hit the sand of the shallow bottom and thoughts of a broken neck quickly sprang to mind; without even attempting any sort of recovery I quickly slid out of the kayak, pulling it up the beach. I was relieved to be on dry land and took in the breath- taking beauty of the bay as the white sands and deep blue water curved around in a long arc. It is easy to see why so many tourists take the short but steep walk over from the car park. Leaving Wineglass Bay we followed a coastline of towering granite cliffs and more red lichen-covered rocks. Our campsite for the night was a small but sheltered cove on the south of Schouten Island at the end of Frecyinet, with the strange name of "Hen and Chicken Bay." This gave us an easier run the next day, as we had a forty kilometre open crossing to Maria Island, the only break being a small granite outcrop known as "Ile de Phoque", reported to be home to a large seal colony. That night we ate well as a fisherman, whom we had asked for the weather forecast, gave us a crayfish. Dirk managed to find an abalone and I caught a couple of fish on my trawling line. We set off early from Schouten, eventually paddling into some large sea caves on the eastern side of Ile de Phoque which provided some welcome protection from the sun. "Where are the seals?" asked Mike and Dirk, as it was my idea to visit this small rocky outcrop just to see them. After a bite to eat we rounded the northern end of Ile de Phoques, to find the seals sprawled out on the rocks like tourists at a popular holiday resort. Our presence caused a chorus of barking followed by a stampede as they came hurtling down the rocks, crashing into the water. The calm sea became a mass of white water as seals were diving and frolicking all around with green bubbly trails in the water below as they glided effortlessly under our kayaks. It was then I remembered that seal colonies often have a resident white pointer shark and I wondered what my kayak looked like from underneath. Late in the afternoon the sea breeze picked up just enough for us to hoist our sails for an easy run into Darlington Bay on the western side of Maria Island. As in most places we stopped, people were interested in our journey. One of the local rangers, when we told him about visiting the seal colony, confirmed my suspicions, mentioning that a white pointer took a diver there last year. Hmmm. Maria Island has an interesting history. It was first circumnavigated by French explorer Nicholas Baudin in 1802 and he commented on the large number of Cape Barren geese there; there still is. It later become a convict settlement, then a whaling station, a centre for wine and silk, followed by a cement works which ended with the Great Depression. It finally became a nature reserve in 1960 and is now managed by the National Parks and Wildlife attracting thousands of visitors each year. There are several interesting ruins left from its diverse history and one can stay in renovated rooms that used to be convict cells. Numerous walks are on offer with some that can take several days and the Island is a popular destination for backpackers. One of the more prominent features on the Island is Mount Maria, the summit of which offers wide ranging views back to the Tasmanian mainland and beyond. It is generally a good six hour return hike but we, now being 'creatures of the sea', took the easier hike up to the top of nearby "Bishop and Clerk". It offers views back to Schouten Island, Ile de Phoque and the expanse of Darlington Bay and is only 3 hours return. I enjoyed the three days we stayed on the Island and it's definitely worth a return trip. An ocean of milky whiteness enveloped us as we left Maria in the morning fog but it cleared by the time we hit the mainland. We slipped into a small sheltered cove named Lagoon Bay which the Reverend labeled "a most romantic spot"; he must have been missing his wife. Not long after tea the horizon took on a tender touch with purple and mauve hues pushing aside the ashen grey twilight and bathing the area in soft pastel colours. I knew what this meant and, grabbing my camera and tripod, bolted to the top of the nearest hill. I had just managed to set up when the pastel colours shifted to fiery reds and gold, taking over the whole sky and lighting it up like some sort of apocalyptic Armageddon. I had to slow myself down before I used up my entire supply of film. It was here that we deviated from the Reverend Fairey's journey again. To avoid the long and potentially dangerous Tasman Peninsula, he paddled into Blackmans Bay and with the help of the locals carried his canoe over the small spit to Norfolk Bay. "Two men carrying the canoe on their shoulders marched first, then I followed with the paddle and mast, the burgee of the Royal Canoe Club still flying at the masthead, then a number of young people with the provision-box, lockers, rudder, shark-spear, etc, so that we formed quite a procession, which attracted the attention of everyone in the little township." The wind was against us the next day and although we did only twenty kilometres it felt like fifty. It became one of those grin-and-bear-it paddles where you often don't appear to be going anywhere as you pound into the never ending waves. It is in these conditions that you enter your own world. You can't talk to your paddling companions, you can't stop, so you just plod on, locking yourself into a smooth paddling rhythm that allows you to go forward without using too much energy. The following day the sea was perfectly calm. It seems to be a characteristic of Tasmanian weather; awful one day, perfect the next; neither good nor bad weather lasts very long. Not far from Eagle Hawk is a popular tourist site known as "The Blow Hole." Here the sea comes through a long narrow tunnel, finishing in a small alcove. When the waves come in they produce a mountain of spray. The calm sea enabled us to paddle down this tunnel arriving in the alcove to the utter amazement of the tourists lined up along the fence above. There are sea caves and arches all along this part of the coast and the calm seas made exploring them easy. We checked for abalone by flipping upside down, then eskimo rolling back up. For those of you who haven't learnt this skill, it has some wonderful benefits apart from self-rescuing. It is a superb way to check out the scenery below without getting out of your boat. A whole new world opens up to you, dark blue depths, graceful seals and giant strands of kelp reaching up to the surface like a hidden forest. The abalone are difficult to spot with their pink spotted shells blending in with lichen-covered rocks. Even the kelp hides them as the long strands dance back and forth across the bottom swaying with the never ending flow of the sea. As you are just hanging there not using any energy you have a suprisingly long time in which to look around and it only takes a few seconds to roll back up. I always carry a pair of goggles handy for just this reason. As we paddled along admiring the soaring cliffs, we could make out the Lanterns past the entrance to Fortesque Bay. The Lanterns are a series of islands, spread over a kilometre at the end of Cape Hauy. However, the real draw card is two rock formations known as the Candlestick and the Totem Pole. The Totem Pole is a Mecca for rock climbers the world over attracted by this 65m column of rock sitting in the middle of a narrow channel. Just getting to the base is a challenge. The sea was still calm and the sky a brilliant blue as we approached the entrance to Fortesque Bay, where we planned on waiting for good weather before attempting the long and exposed leg around Cape Pillar. I thought about paddling the few extra kilometres to photograph the Lanterns in such perfect conditions but, feeling lazy, decided against it and paddled over to the camping ground. Predictably the weather changed the next day with gale warnings all down the coast. It was like this for two days before we were able to paddle and although it was calm on the third day, it was overcast and dull, ruining any chance of good shots of The Lanterns. I made Mike and Dirk wait a little longer in the morning light but it didn't change much. When we got there even in the dull light, the sheer size of the Candlestick gave off an aura of power as it rose straight up out of the sea. A moderate swell gave us an easy run through the gauntlet into Munro Bight where we continued on to Cape Pillar. Tasman Island greets you as you round Cape Pillar. This small island rises straight up for 250 metres with the ruins of an old landing gantry at the base. It was here, before the advent of helicopters, that ships used to bring supplies in for the lighthouse keepers on top of the island. The Tasmanian kayakers often land here by riding the swell onto a kelp-covered rock shelf, hanging on to a piece of kelp while the swell subsides, then quickly getting out before the next set. Shooing the seals out of the way they then haul their kayaks up to the next ledge, (otherwise the seals will sit on them), before undertaking the long trek up a steep narrow track to the top. We thought we would give this a miss, though they tell me the views are worth it. Heading through Tasman Passage following the cliffs, we eventually landed inside Port Arthur at a sheltered sandy beach called Safety Cove. As it was only lunchtime and a beautiful sunny day, we decided to go and visit the old convict ruins. This is one of the most significant historical sites in Tasmania and well worth a visit. Paddling into the cove with the afternoon sun highlighting the sandstone ruins, we were awarded a scenic view from the water. Providing we didn't land we saved ourselves the $16 entrance fee. Heading back to Safety Cove, we experienced yet again the wonderful hospitality of the Tasmanians. While looking for a public telephone, a friendly local invited us up to his place, treating us to coffee and homemade cake. Then, as if this wasn't enough, he insisted we take some fresh vegetables and some fish he had caught back to our campsite. This was only matched by another local, who on seeing our tents, invited us up to try his home brew. Several jugs later we staggered back to our tents, remarking on what a great day it had been. We had arranged to meet the Tasmanian Sea Canoeing club at White Beach for their AGM but found most of them on a rocky outcrop, Wedge Island, about four kilometres from there. We caught up with Tasmania paddler Mike Emery who had picked up our car in Devonport and driven it to Hobart, saving us a very long car shuffle. Mike had given us invaluable advice about the coastline and invited us to join his fellow paddlers for a BBQ. It was a mixture of relief and accomplishment when, two days later, we sailed into Constitution Dock in Hobart. Mike and his partner Veronica kindly put us up for a few days before the ferry crossing and long drive back to Canberra. There is a lot that must have changed since the Reverend Fred Fairey made his trip in 1879 but one thing that hasn't is the hospitality of the Tasmanians. Reverend Fairey comments at the end of his log on his "hearty reception and unbounded hospitality." We also, throughout this trip, had the same experience - a special thanks to Mike Emery, Jeff Jennings and the Tasmanian Sea Canoeing club. *************************************************************************** PaddleWise Paddling Mailing List - Any opinions or suggestions expressed here are solely those of the writer(s). You must assume the entire responsibility for reliance upon them. All postings copyright the author. 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Fascinating reports, David. Thanks for posting them. Are you going to have a web page with some of your pictures? It would be great to see some of these places that you have described so well. John "Whyte, David" wrote: > > This is the second part to the trip report... *************************************************************************** PaddleWise Paddling Mailing List - Any opinions or suggestions expressed here are solely those of the writer(s). You must assume the entire responsibility for reliance upon them. All postings copyright the author. Submissions: PaddleWise_at_PaddleWise.net Subscriptions: PaddleWise-request_at_PaddleWise.net Website: http://www.paddlewise.net/ ***************************************************************************
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