STEAMY STRAHAN

Macquary Harbour

I’m sorry to say time has once again run away from me and I am still in catch up mode. I write this not from Steamy Strahan but from a distinctly chilly and wet St Claire. We are almost without internet and so I am taking the opportunity to catch up on writing my blogs in the knowledge that I will be unable to post them for at least another 3 days if not longer. We are currently in ‘The Central Highlands’ and will be for at least another 6 or so days, no internet (for my laptop at least) and no TV – I think this will test DD somewhat but I am fine with it, although would have liked to warn friends and family first that we would be out of range. A......oh wait a minute, DD has now managed to get some internet service on his laptop, but guess what folks, that will not extend to mine. Long story – so I will leave it out.

To add to my own woes I have either developed an allergy to these highlands/rain forests or I have picked up some weird adult version of measles. I am covered in some sort of rash and have become rather ‘sniffy’ all over again. I have hit the anti-histamines and they have helped somewhat but that almost overwhelming urge to scratch is hard to resist.

Beautiful Gardens



Quaint Old Houses


Anyway, enough of that! Since my last entry we seem to have been around the world and back. We stayed in Strahan for 8 days (a strange but fortuitous mix up with the CP) and from there headed off to Queenstown where we stayed for yet another 3 nights. While in Strahan we ‘did’ the Wilderness Railway and the Gordon River Cruise. Rather than drive you nuts with a great long winded blog I will split these wondrous events into 4 separate blogs, Strahan, Railway, Cruise and Queenstown. By the time I get to publish these blogs there will probably also be Lake St Claire. So folks, bear with me as we go back to Strahan.

The drive from Somerset to Strahan was absolutely amazing. We pulled Jezzy thru’ some incredible country. Unbelievably steep and winding roads surrounded by lush rain-forest clung to the edges of sheer rock walls; the tree-ferns and gums dropping away hundreds of feet on the off side of the road. I thought I was exercising those clenching muscles when we drove the Gt Ocean Road but friends you have no idea! The saving grace of the drive, aside from the extreme beauty, was the lack of traffic. DD did us proud, having determined beforehand that this particular road was fairly quiet. It used to be the main drag through the region but a later straighter road has since been built for the first part of the trip and that now carries the bulk of the traffic including all the big trucks.

Windy and Steep Roads Along the way to Strahan

The drive was a fairly long one by Tasmanian standards and took us the prescribed 3 ½ hours. Down here, rather than tell you how many ks to go, they tell you how long it will take. It works rather well, particularly from a tourist viewpoint. We are still trying to get used to the road-signs here, some of which we are still to figure out.

Strahan itself is very pretty, sitting on the banks of Macquarie Harbour – the second largest natural harbour in Australia, second only to Port Phillip Bay in Victoria. Strahan has plenty of history, having been discovered in 1815. A convict settlement was established in 1822. Abysmally harsh conditions and treatment of those poor souls sent there has been recorded. One of the worst areas was at Sarah Island, where the so called worst of the ‘offenders’ were sent. We visited Sarah Island as part of the Gordon River Cruise and heard and saw for ourselves how life was for those sent to that dreaded place.

Mountains Watching Over the Harbour

Strahan is a place of unusual beauty. The lush temperate rain forest rambles right down to the waterfront and thus almost every garden sports a plethora of giant tree ferns. Wherever you look there are mountains watching over and protecting the tiny village. Once again the theme is designed to capture the tourist dollar, but I have to say they do it well. We only had one meal out whilst we were there, choosing what looked to be the locals pub and having a simple seafood meal looking out over the harbour. The price seemed to be on a par with most other places. A local IGA proved to be sufficient for our meagre shopping needs and the town sports a good post office.

The place was just full of tourists and many people were turned away as the CP was full to the point of overflowing. It seems that March is the main tourist month here and as there are strong indications that the Wilderness Railway is about to become defunct, even Taswegians are flocking to Strahan to take a ride on the iconic train. Many folk had to either free-park or try their luck in Queenstown (another story!). It seems that the Golf Club here allows camping and from what we hear it is quite a good spot.

It seems that the main purpose of Strahan is to act as a huge booking office for both the cruise and the railway. There is also a sea-plane there which does tours of the Gordon River and surrounds. We didn’t fancy this, but were told by someone who took t he tour that it was excellent, albeit rather expensive at around $200 per head (give or take $50).

Mud Flats along the Mouth of the King River

Between cruises and trains we took a drive out to the little town of Zeehan, once a thriving metropolis (Silver Mining) and to the Ocean Beach at Strahan – around 25ks gravel road. We also found a little dirt road which meanders alongside the mouth of the King River. We were fascinated with the dry mud beds surrounding the River. So fascinated in fact that we drove all around these dry mud flats. We have since been told that the mud or rather lack of plants is due partly at least to the rubbish that has made its way down the river from Queenstown. Amongst the other pollutants was a high amount of Sulphuric Acid and copper. We were told that there are still unusually high levels of some unwanted chemicals in that water.

Old Buildings in Zeehan

Trial Port Just outside of Zeehan

One of the more unusual facts about Macquarie Harbour is that the surface water is fresh and the lower level of water is salt. This means that only certain types of fish that are both fresh and salt water tolerant are able to thrive in those waters. That leads me to a strange thing we have both noticed and that is the apparent lack of bird life in this part of the world. We were told, whilst on board the cruise, that there is very little of value fodder wise for many birds in the rain-forests and so they are not called to live there. It feels quite odd, all that verdant green and so few birds. It seems that much of the fauna there is of such ancient origins it doesn’t utilise a solely seed propagation method – thus the lack of food for birds.

Water Skiers at Sundown

You may be wondering at my use of the word Steamy in conjunction with a town on the west coast of Tasmania – well, the whole time we were there, it was hot and humid and I do mean humid. The nights were uncomfortable indeed – not at all what we expected. It did start raining finally, on our last day there – not that the humidity abated any at the onset of rain.

The caravan park there is OK – there used to be two but they have now amalgamated into one park, albeit split into two sections on opposite sides of the road. The amenities were functional and the park was reasonable but expensive at $40 per night. The sites were not particularly spacious and we didn’t see one pooch whilst there so presume that it was not dog friendly. The big bonus was that it was strolling distance from the water and we had a lovely little beach almost to ourselves.

It seems that we (translate I) took around a million photos whilst in Strahan, I have been practising with DD’s awesome lenses which very conveniently fit my camera as well as his. I now seem to have become mildly addicted to photo taking. I will try to pick the eyes out of them for the blog.

In the meantime, share like there is no tomorrow – Steph.

Great Life for a Dog

Don't Think He Was Watching the Dog!



Goodnight From Me



FAIRY TALE FERN GLADE (OR THE PLATYPUS BLOG)



Somerset Caravan Park

 This one is from the heart folks, as the day I write about will forever remain with me. I will keep it tucked in a small corner of my heart, secure there to be brought out and remembered whenever I am in need of a little magic.
First things first however! We finally dragged ourselves away from Stanley and turned back east as far as Somerset – a small suburb of Burnie. This is our ‘jumping off spot’ for Strahan and the centre of the island. The morning we left Stanley, we discovered whilst completing our usual regime of lights and checks that the braking lights on the van were not working correctly. To be fair to Jezabelle (the van) we have had absolutely no problems with her in the past, although once, just around 1 month ago the brake lights did refuse to go on until DD sprayed the appropriate contacts with good old WD40. This time no amount of spraying would fix the problem. The odd thing was the lights would come on some of the time, but very faintly. We tinkered with the problem for some 15 minutes or so until finally we (DD) decided we would just take it very carefully and make maximum use of the indicators etc for the benefit of any following traffic. We were only travelling some 70 odd ks back to Burnie so took off albeit very cautiously.
We arrived at our destination The Somerset Beachside CP without incident. The CP there is well priced and whilst nothing flash, is spacious and the amenities are clean. The manager told us that things are tough in his industry with so many travellers opting for the plethora of free parks available in Tassie. The Burnie council have provided plenty of free parks in their area. The poor bloke had our sympathies – we do try to utilise the CPs as we believe they provide a great service and let’s face it, if everyone insists on free parking, these places will diminish dramatically and then as the councils sell off the land for the free parks when land values increase (as is the want of councils everywhere) where will we caravanners be? The CP used to be a drive in cinema, and has a cafe and nursery at the front. It was all very pleasant and we can vouch for the quality of their coffee.
First order of business was to see to the tail lights on Jezzy. Another oddity now appeared – they would work fine when the headlights were on, but still refused to brighten sufficiently if the headlights were turned off. Nothing DD could do would fix the problem, so off we went to source new ‘bits’. We found an auto shop and DD purchased a new Lead Connector from the car to van and a new Electrical Plug which he duly installed on the car (Zed) – hoping to cover all bases. DD tells me incidentally, that the new Lead Connecter has an LED display showing which leads are active. I am told this is very exciting! Right, all hands on deck and yours truly duly positioned at the rear of the van in order to check the lights once again (yes this was by now a much repeated procedure) – and............................................NUP – NOTHING, still the lights stubbornly refused to perform as required. No change at all in fact. By now girls, you will appreciate that The Bloke had decided The Woman must be getting it wrong – so places were reversed so that he could see the malfunctioning lights for himself as surely The Woman must have it wrong! Guess what? Not bloody working!
OK next step is to talk to another bloke – great, a builder staying at the CP is enlisted and the two blokes spend considerable time going over what DD has already done and the building bloke, himself a sparky, and DD jointly agree that it is a job for an auto electrician. The builder bloke recommended just the man and he was duly contacted and arrived promptly at the CP to check out the problem. Now all the women out there will just soooooooooo appreciate this. DD jumped behind the wheel, the auto electrician took his place at the rear of the van and voila!!!!!!!!!!! Everything worked perfectly. Nothing DD could do would cause any sort of malfunction while that man was there. Don’t you just love it? How many times have we girls taken a vehicle to the repairers only to have the ‘funny noise’ disappear? How many times have we been made to feel like idiots when the ‘imagined’ problem couldn’t be found? Crunch time really came however when the nice auto-electrician asked DD for $45 for the call out. Guess who wasn’t happy. Anyway, long story short, we have decided that we will from now on in, travel at all times with the headlights on – something we really should have been doing anyway in the opinion of The Woman.


DD  On The Look Out

Just in case you were wondering, no this is not the magical memory I will tuck away in my heart, but it will continue to bring a smile to the dial for a while. When we took our river cruise on the Arthur River we were told if we were very lucky we might spot a platypus – needless to say that didn’t happen. The skipper’s off-sider, Mouse did however give us a tip about a little place just out of Burnie where we would be almost certain to see platypus, even during the day. Armed with this piece of information we went in search of Fern Glade where the platypuses live. We shall forever be grateful to Mouse for this information as Fern Glade turned out to be a small (and free) paradise along the Emu River just east of Burnie.

Stunning Reflections

We had planned to be at the Nature Reserve early in the morning but didn’t actually manage to get there until sometime around 11am. The morning was delightfully sunny and there was absolutely no breeze. All good! The nature reserve there is just a dream – lush rain-forest hugging the banks of a sleepy little river. Massive tree ferns dip their fronds lazily in the still waters while tall eucalypts reach their slender branches to the sky. Green parrots skimmed the branches and happy little wrens flitted amongst the grasses and fallen branches overhanging the water. The rainforest was greener and more lavishly adorned with mosses and tree ferns than the Tarkine and the overwhelming effect was indeed one of magic and enchantment. We wandered slowly along the banks of the river, watching the birds and scanning every ripple in the water. We saw many water bubbles rising to the limpid surface and wondered at their source. Of course, in these rivers live fresh water cray, eels and other fish as well as our hoped for platypuses; even if we didn’t spot a platypus, we would be happy.

First Sighting

As it turned out, DD was the first to see our elusive creature swimming on the surface of the river and then duck-diving to the bottom in search of water bugs. We held our collective breath and lo and behold, he resurfaced. Now folks, I hope you don’t think too badly of me here, but I have never seen a platypus before, not even in captivity and I was just thrilled. What an amazing little creature! We were spell-bound watching our little friend fish and hunt. Before I could catch up with DD the little platypus clambered onto a piece of log and gave himself a good scratching. I missed this, but DD caught in on his trusty Canon. We must have stayed there watching the magic for quite some time until the peace was shattered by a teacher with a group of noisy adolescent school kids in canoes. I guess for these locals platypus are a little blah, and of course, they are teenagers! Amazingly after this group had passed upstream and back again, our little mate did resurface, but only once before turning in for the day. We were just so happy to have seen him and consider ourselves blessed. We had been told by numerous locals that we had no chance of seeing a platypus in daylight hours!

Up On The Log For A Good Scratch

In The Clear

Incidentally, just before I leave you this time, can I say I have had more than enough ‘DAD Humour’ to last me for quite some time. I suppose most of you are familiar with the Koala/platypus joke – just in case, There was a bloke fronting the magistrate on the charge of eating koala – he pleaded his case with the magistrate, explaining that he had spotted the koala on the side of the road, dead, after it had been hit by a car. He further explained that he had 6 hungry children to feed and didn’t think it would be disrespectful to eat the little beast rather than have it die for nothing. As luck would have it, the magistrate agreed and let him off with a warning. Just as the bloke was about to leave, the magistrate beckoned him to him and asked “Just as a matter of interest, what did the koala taste like?” “Oh not too bad you know” answered the bloke – “not unlike platypus your honour!” Hmmm, no don’t apologise, I don’t think it is funny either – and boy oh boy am I tired of DD and all his hairy mates re-creating this old acorn at every opportunity with questions like, “what did it taste like” and responses like “like koala, but a bit more salty” – enough – yes darling that does mean you and Steve, and Wayne, and Peter, and...........................................!

Magic Circles

Anyway folks, that is just about it for now until next time when I talk to you from Strahan. I really wish I could include more photos as the ones taken on Platypus Day were just amazing. The effects of the reflections, the sun and the ripples around our magical mate were just that, magical. So.....until next time, keep the jokes nice and let a little magic into your lives. Steph.

Farewell To The Ferny Fairy Glade And The Magic Reflections

SPARKLING STANLEY

Stanley Lazing in the Sun at the Base of the Nut



The Nut Transformed by the Setting Sun


Yes, well good intentions, we all know where they go! I am once again in catch up mode and whilst I would like to say I will keep this brief, we both know that is unlikely. From Devonport we headed west to the pretty little town of Stanley up on the western end of the north coast. Stanley is pretty much the last stop on the north coast.

Whilst Stanley is sparkling, clean, pretty and historically relevant, we did feel that it was very much also a ‘tourist trap’. We don’t have a problem with that, just as well too, as we suspect much of Tasmania will be this way. Tiny little towns, no longer making a go of it fishing, logging, or whatever their historical purpose was, but now hunting the tourist dollar; so long as they don’t ‘rip us off’ in the process, it’s all good.

The Nut, Stanley and the ZigZag Walk to the Top

Stanley was primarily a fishing village and some fishing is still done from there, but the whole town has been beautifully restored and comprises of steep streets of quaint little houses all clustered around the base of The Nut. Most of the shops are specifically tourist and will ‘rip you off’ if you are not careful. Food prices were fairly steep, but we are learning that Tassie food is priced similarly to West Australian food, in a word, ‘expensive’ – particularly if you wish to eat out. Just to make the point, we decided to partake of a scallop pie for lunch, as that is one of the things Tassie is known for. Very few places in town to choose from, but one little shop/cafe proudly displayed a sign indicating bakery, cafe & home- made scallop pies. Yumm!! Well, the pies were delicious, but I felt that $28 for two pies and two savoury scones was just a bit over the top. Ah well, they were good – the shop also sold home- made chocolate and fudge – did we go there? Of course – just 2 chocolates each tho’ and they were also delicious and surprisingly nowhere as expensive as the pies and scones!


Forgotten Times


The little town of Stanley clings tenaciously to the base of an extinct volcano – just the core actually – and this ‘core’ is called The Nut. The Nut can be seen for quite a while as you travel westwards towards Stanley and is a major landmark. There is a good walking track to the top of The Nut, but there is, for those not quite so ambitious, a chair lift. Guess who took the chair-lift? The trip to the top of The Nut, is well worth it as the views from the peak are amazing. Even when you catch the chair lift to the top, there is still good walking to be done along the various tracks leading to well placed viewing platforms.



Pinacle of Farming Land From the Top of The Nut




Amazing Views From the Top of the Nut



Looking towards the town from the CP

While we were in Stanley our good friends Steve & Sylvia caught up with us and we spent a couple of very pleasant days in their company, driving along the western coast and visiting Arthur River and other little seaside fishing hamlets. I can’t say we spent lovely nights with them as the sods took away our hard earned cash, beating us soundly at Poker. We have played cards with these two for quite a few years now and generally we come out pretty even – we are looking forward to our next encounter when we can even the score again!

It is likely to happen soon as our mates are almost the complete opposite to us in their travel mode. They are in Tassie for 1 month and have already completed most of their tour in just 2 weeks. We expect to catch up with them more or less on their way back. Steve has heard the mackerel are running at home and he is missing his boat and his fishing. Poor Sylvia will be hard put to keep him on the Apple Isle we think.

Weather – well, what a mixture! We had heard that Stanley was super windy and when we arrived it met all expectations in that regard. The wind was absolutely screaming around the camp. We are told that the norm there is a couple of lovely days, followed by a couple of super windy days. The wind comes from all angles as it bounces off and twists around The Nut. We were not game to put the awning up for the first couple of days. The up-side was that while the wind was there so was the sun and the place literally sparkled. We had that for the first two days, then the clouds came in and literally ‘sat’ right on us, no, not over us, but on us! It was eerily beautiful, The Nut looming over us in the perpetual mist and everything softened by the moist vapour. Oddly it wasn’t cold, even with the cloud hovering. The cloud came and went over the rest of our visit to Stanley, alternating glistening sunny days with moody grey ones.

The Nut  (sea-side) Earily Looming From the Mist

Stanley is quite beautiful, almost completely surrounded by water. We were a bit ‘turned around’ tho’ as we were right on the water’s edge and the water was between us and the mainland of Tasmania! The Nut and the town are pretty much on a little finger of land shaped much like a back to front comma and we were just underneath the top blob of that comma. Due probably to the fact our waterfront was pretty much a huge bay there were no big waves, just a myriad of busy little wavelets which cast strand upon strand of sparkling crystals against the tawny sand.

Busy Little Waveletts (land-side)

The surrounding land is, you guessed it, dairy and cattle farming. The rolling hills, currently adorned in gold were picturesque to say the least, decorated with dark Cyprus and contented black and white cows. Horses seem to be popular in the area too, and it was quite common to see riders wandering along the roads and tracks or meandering along the seaside. All in all, the combination of the quaint houses, the rural atmosphere, historic ruins and sparkling seas all safely under the watch of the towering Nut conspired to make Stanley a very pleasant stay indeed. Despite the touristy feel to the place, I at least, could have happily spent more time there. Until next time, stay well, be nutty but don’t ‘do your nut’! – Steph (well, what did you expect?)

Goodbye to The Nut

ARBOREAL ARTHUR RIVER

The Edge of the World

Where to start? Well, bad news first I suppose, yes, despite all my good intentions and precautions I managed to pick up a very good (or bad) dose of DD’s ‘bug’ – and it is a little ripper. I am hopefully thru’ the worst of it now and have just resorted to barking like the proverbial (don’t go there guys!). I have to say The Bloke was a true ‘champeen’ this time around and really did soldier on wonderfully well – not taking any days off nor even Complaining Loudly. I on the other hand seem to have done nothing but whine and whinge since the first sniff. Of course, my dose must have been worse than his, that’s the answer!! Hmmm.

Anyway, we have been staying in Sparkling Stanley (another blog to come) and whilst there took a trip down to Arthur River on the North West Coast. Once there we scratched one of our usual itches and took a river cruise and it was brilliant. We certainly recommend the cruise. One of our objectives is to take as many of these boat cruises as we can – we find that they are not only beautiful and enjoyable in their own right, but we tend to learn quite a bit from the tour operators, who in this case at least, were absolute characters.

The road from Stanley to Arthur River is OK, but we are quite pleased not to have taken the van down there – the CP looked pretty ordinary and realistically once there, there is not a great deal more to do than check out the local coastline (gravel roads) and take one of the cruises on offer. We did take a drive down along some of these coastal roads and checked out a couple of tiny fishing spots right off the beaten track. They call the coast along that way The Edge of The World and I have to say it is well named.

That remote part of the coast is battered by the wild Southern Ocean and next land-fall is some 15000 kilometres away in South America. During the winter months the Roaring 40s pelt the coast with huge swells sometimes up to 25 metres high. It seems that only a very few very hardy or foolish souls hang around there from July through to October.

The river-mouth is testament to both the ferocity of the winter river and the stormy sea – with hundreds of old trees and logs littering the shoreline like just so many giant toothpicks. My firewood hunting Bloke was salivating thinking of all that firewood. It seems tho’ that the sheer hardness of the local timbers leaves most chain saws spitting out teeth, so perhaps not so desirable after all.

Logs piled up like Matchsticks

Being cognisant of the variable weather in this part of the world, we chose our day carefully, taking into consideration all the weather forecasts, and blissfully we chose well and the day in question dawned clear and sunny. We had to depart from Stanley by 8am in order to board the boat at Arthur River by 9.45. The drive there was just delightful – we meandered through undulating golden fields dotted with myriad placid milking cows. Boy – cows!!!! I don’t think I have ever seen so many cows. All different breeds, but mostly big beautiful black and white beasts, calmly chewing their cud or lining up to go into the milking sheds. We saw capering calves, mooing mums and bawling bulls – Tassie so far seems pretty much like one big humungous farm. The early morning sun played across tree lined paddocks throwing black lace shadows on the golden fields.

Doting Mother

We passed a deer farm on the way, steep grassed paddocks dotted with pretty little deer – yes I do know what they are used for, but as I don’t personally eat Bambi I can live with it if I don’t think about it too much. I know that feral they are a pest too – but you can’t deny they are a pretty little beast.

Pretty Creatures Grazing in the Early Morning Light

On the way we also drove along some steep and winding roads that passed through part of the Tarkine – thickly wooded areas lush with tree ferns lapping the sides of the road. Sadly these roads were well decorated with the corpses of wallabies and their little cousins the pademelons. Certainly there must be an abundance of these little marsupials here as we must have by now seen at least 100 ‘sleeping’ by the roadsides.

We arrived at the boat early, only to find that others were even earlier and all the choice spots on the front of the boat had been taken. We opted to stand outdoors on the very small shelf running along the sides and the rear of the boat. I knew I would pay dearly later for standing bracing my knees all day and I am, but it was really worth the pain.

Wave Back to DD at the Rear of the Boat

The boat was ably manned/womaned by a crew of 4, all of whom seemed to have nick-names. The skipper, a fairly wily old hound was KG or Cagey depending I think on your outlook. His offsider and I think spouse, was Mouse and we also had Greg the professional talker and another lovely young lady whose name sadly has left the building. Sorry! When I say professional talker, I should probably elaborate a little, Greg had a couple of natural science degrees and was the bloke with the ‘book knowledge’ – he came originally from Sydney, but had pretty well morphed into a pony-tailed, ridgey-didge bushy. The skipper was dyed in the wool original to his back teeth Nor-west Taswegian.

Now you may be surprised to know that not all Taswegians are born equal. No indeed not! The folk in the north west corner deem themselves to be far superior to those down in lowly Hobart and the ones generally in the north are better than the ones in the south, the west better than the east and so it goes. Who would have thought that a state which could be fit easily inside our South West corner could be so, so, .....so well, internally parochial! You wouldn’t catch any self respecting Sandgroper behaving in this manner, not unless they come from South of the River of course.

Anyway, I digress – we took off at 10am sharp as promised and the George Robinson (the red boat) with Cagey at the helm and Greg at the mike proceeded to show us a ‘real good time’. We learnt many interesting things from Greg. The Arthur River is considered to be among the top rivers for reflections. This is due largely to the very high amount of tannin in the river water. Much of this tannin is caused by a small native grass called, I think, Button Grass. This grass, along with other plants stains the water a deep blackish brown. The dark colour complemented by the stillness of the morning did indeed live up to its image of magic.

Stunning Tree Ferns Reflected in the Tannin Laden Waters

I cannot remember just how long the river is but I think he said something like 180 ks. What he did say is that the river can be legitimately considered ‘wild’ as it does not at any point adjoin any farm, cleared or tamed land; the banks of the river, throughout its entire length are uncultivated. Much of the river wanders through the area now known as The Tarkine. This is the largest tract of temperate rain forest in Australia. We learned that Tarkine is a relatively new term given to this vast area of rainforest. The concept is that people will come to recognise the term Tarkine in connection with the conservation push in this region.

I must say, we gained an interesting perspective with regards to the push to make this a conservation area. Currently the area is logging land and the logging we are told, is managed very carefully and in small segments. The area is also available for locals to fish and hunt within legal precepts. If it was to be made a conservation area this would all stop, thus bringing a much needed industry to its knees and ousting families whose ancestors came out with early convict ships. I have to admit to being one who had previously believed in the conservation push, but now can see that perhaps somewhere ‘in the middle’ would be good.

The Tarkine (whose boundaries have never been set) is absolutely amazing. The cruise allowed us to view that wilderness as you never could from a fast moving car. Tall stringy bark eucalypt reach for the sky while wattles, myrtles and leatherwood cluster around the tall thin trunks. Lush tree ferns brush the forest floor and fan the blue spaces between trees. Little Kangaroo ferns decorate any available trunk giving a green aspect to even the brown branches.

We learned that there are two types of tree-ferns in the forest. One which hangs on to its dead fronds, and keeps them in untidy bunches around its feet – the other is a tall beauty which has a slender and shapely trunk as it sheds all its dead fronds and keeps itself beautiful and neat. Unsurprisingly the first are called ‘man’-ferns’ and the latter ‘lady-ferns’. Just as we women were all smirking and congratulating ourselves, we were also told that the slender neat ones were often very prickly to the touch. Oh well!

We learned many interesting things that day – I suspect some, like the lady/man ferns may be more local lore than fact, but all were interesting and entertaining. Of course, for a great big trivia sponge like yours truly, little known facts like Bass Straight once being a swamp were eagerly swallowed. One of the truisms was that many of the plants in the forest are of absolutely ancient origin and predate most if not all of our native animals. We share some of this ancient fauna with other parts of Gondwanaland like South America. We also learnt that Tasmanian Oak is actually Stringy Bark gum.

Thickly Wooded Right Down to the Water's Edge

One last little bit of trivia for you – I mentioned the high levels of tannin in the river – it seems that in the heavy winter months when the Roaring 40s are hammering the coast there, the combination of high swells and a raging tannin laden river meeting creates enormous quantities of foam. They say that entire oxen teams were known to disappear and perish in this foam and that every year people lose their beloved four footed mates in this perilous stuff. We were also told that the gravitational pull of the moon there is very, very slight – now that give me pause to think!!

Anyway back to our cruise – our able bodied crew took us quite some distance upstream. On the way we fed a pair of sea-eagles and their off-spring – delightful to see them in the wild. Mind you, almost every similar cruise we have been on in other parts of the country, has fed the sea-eagles. These birds do alright!

The weather was perfect – in the morning we had practically no breeze and so were able to see the reflective river at its best. I almost wore out the camera snapping shots of tree ferns, and reflections. Some of the best shots we both took were of the contorted reflections from the back of the boat (sorry to be so non-nautical folks – but if I try to get all nautical I’m sure I’ll just end up stern over bow so to speak).

We stopped after a couple of hours and went ashore. Here we were handed a large plastic cup full of wine or cool drink and taken for a short walk into the forest. Peter, behave!! Greg gave us an informative talk throughout our brief saunter until we smelled the unmistakable aroma of barbequed snags wafting through the greenery. We duly meandered back to the clearing and were served a basic but more than ample BBQ lunch along with more vino if we chose. Oh, we were also given cuppas and home-made biscuits on the way there. So, another cuppa for those who needed one and back on board for the trip back.

Little Pademelon in for his Daily Salad Treat

Just before we all left the camp area, a little brown pademelon came hopping in looking for his hand out of salad, and not far behind him a stunning spotted quoll wandered in for his snagger. I missed the quoll but our intrepid photographer DD lingered long enough to get some really good shots of the beautiful creature.

A Stunningly Marked Quoll Looking for his Snagger

The trip back was a little cooler with a brisk breeze blowing and we were treated to a Didgeridoo lesson by Greg who proved to be somewhat of an expert with this iconic aboriginal instrument. We were kept entertained most of the time by Cagey who regaled us with tales, tall and true of the region and its colourful history. It was fantastic to have such a colourful character narrating with very little posturing given to any political correctness. How bloody refreshing. Isn’t it interesting, when people are not constrained by political correctness, we find that hey, we as free people, are free to agree or disagree with their perspectives. Well bugger me!!

Anyway, the only other thing I should tell you is that if you come to this amazing part of the world and are in a quandary as to which boat cruise to take (there are two), we took the old red boat in preference to the new white one and we are very glad we did.

Contorted Reflections in the Wake of the Boat

Until next time, keep an open mind –Steph

DECOROUS DEVONPORT

The Spirit at Rest Devonport Wharf

Well, here we are in down-town Devonport – actually, that’s a bald-faced lie, we are as of yesterday, in Stanley, but let’s pretend we are still in Devonport, and I will tell you about Stanley next time.

As you know we arrived in Devonport, last Sunday evening, quite late and so didn’t have a chance to get our bearings until the next morning. We were of course, armed with an absolute abundance of literature, all advising us of ‘must sees’, ‘must dos, and of course, ‘must haves’. It is a little bit overwhelming when you arrive in a new spot and wade thru’ all the promotional bits and pieces.

The most ‘in our face’ message we received was that pretty much all roads from Devonport lead to Cradle Mountain! I kid you not, almost every single road sign indicates Cradle Mountain, or at least ‘Cradle Country’. It isn’t really very surprising when you realise that most of the surrounding countryside is literally dominated by views, sightings and glimpses of the big mountain. For a West Aussie girl like myself the sight of any mountain is exciting, having basically none at all at home. I was in a perpetual state of awe and excitement. At every turn and around every bend we saw the awesome rocky faces of the mountain.

The Mountain Dominating Most Views

We went shopping the first day and purchased some cold weather gear for our lad. He really is quite sure all his bits are going to freeze and drop off. He picked out, all by himself, some tracky-dacks, camouflage style, covered with buffaloes and gum leaves (I know, a rather odd combo!) – they are water-proof, wind-proof and basically everything proof. He is very pleased with his purchase and a couple of days later saw DD striding along the paths of the mountain adorned in his ‘cammo’ gear, despite the very warm 25 degrees on the mountain that day. Our lovely friend Fleur once commented on DD’s propensity to wearing striped shirts, dubbing him Pyjama Man – Fleur, not sure what you will make of these strides!! I also managed finally to find myself a warm jacket for the colder months to come and we both invested in some gloves. Yes, we are ready for whatever the weather might throw our way now. Needless to say, since we arrived here the weather whilst not always fine, has been balmy temperature wise. I had heard that temperatures feel different here and I have to say that has been the case so far. 25 degrees here feels more like 30 at home – doubtless due to the seemingly constant high humidity. The locals tell me it is not usual, just how it is right now. We have also been told that this is the driest season in most memories, and many cannot ever remember seeing the dry golden paddocks we have been confronted with. I’m not sure whether we are lucky or not. I dare say we will have memories of Tassie that won’t be shared by many and of course, as the season changes we will see much more in the way of the verdant green fields I was expecting.


Golden Fields


Speaking of locals, what an absolutely delightful group of people! This morning I encountered for the very first time, a local who didn’t bend over backwards to please. Not that he was rude, but certainly not particularly accommodating. I bet he was a ‘newy’ from the mainland. Apart from this fella’, everyone else we have met has been super obliging and very friendly. Nice people certainly enhance the experience.

We feel very much like locals, even tho’ we have had to shake our heads a couple of times at what appear rather quaint customs and behaviours. Tassie, so far, is like stepping back in time to when folk were friendlier and life a little slower. We are hill-billies from way back of course, and so fit right in. No offence to the locals!

So, where have we been and what have we seen. Hmmm, Devonport itself is a fairly atypical small port town and frankly isn’t really outstanding in any way. Just nice, small and relatively efficient. We didn’t venture east of Devonport as we will cover that territory at a later date. We simple explored to the west and slightly south. What we discovered is that most small country towns have looked for and found something to ‘hang their hats on’. For example, Railton has exploited topiary and has a selection of quite lovely topiary running along the main street. It seems to be a fairly recent thing and so many of the plants are still in the developmental stage. Sheffield has adopted murals as their claim to fame and a great many of the buildings are decorated with quite stunning murals. Another town has taken letterboxes on board, and of course Penguin is full of Penguins of all shapes and sizes. I think you get the idea. In Sheffield we bumped into a jazzy looking local and his mate Pedro. This dapper fellow charges $2 for a photo with Pedro – we were happy to pay the man for the experience and lauded his enterprising idea.

Cute & Clever Elephant Topiary - Railton

Stunning Murals at Sheffield

Names here are quaint to say the least. I can tell you, we have been Nowhere Else and also to Tasmazia and The Town of Lower Crackpot. Don’t even get me started on Leith and Howth! Most of the country towns, are tiny, well presented and totally beautiful, just like the surrounding countryside.

Nature Mimicking Art - Sheffield

Pedro & His New Girlfriend

I just cannot seem to get used to the fact that everywhere we drive, we see astounding huge tree ferns drifting along the side of the road, amazing drops away from the road and incredible tall hills and mountains along the way. Whilst the fields are not their usual verdant green, they are multicoloured patchworks of gold, brown, green, blue and red as they are either watered for stock and vegies, left to rest for the next planting, planted in blue cabbages, ploughed ready for new planting or simply left to do what comes naturally. It seems only logical that a popular crop down here is flowers. I can’t wait to see some of these beautiful hills adorned with oceans of tulips. Interspersed amongst the hills and paddocks are myriad streams, rivers and ponds, all of course, decorated with the obligatory ducks and geese. The paddocks are dotted with sleek glossy cattle and clean woolly sheep. The overall effect is one of rural serenity.

Stunning Patchwork Colours

Yellow Brick Road - Lower Crackpot

Where Else?

We had been told that it was rare to see the top of The Mountain without cloud cover – we were also told that on any given day it could be sunshine followed by snow or vice versa and so to expect anything and everything. As a result of this advice, we waited until the first totally clear day, Thursday, to take a drive to the top of the mountain. The drive there was just glorious, a mix of heavily wooded mountains and farmlands, all with teasing views of The Mountain. Finally we arrived at Dove Lake, in the middle of Cradle Mountain. I think we felt a little bit of an anti-climax as the surrounding countryside and the drive there was just so incredibly beautiful, the mountain itself somehow just couldn’t eclipse our journey. I expect we would have felt differently had the mountain been dusted with snow.

Dove Lake - Cradle Mountain

The Peak of Cradle Mountain Up Close and Personal

It was quite a long day, driving up and back to the mountain, as even though the distance is not that great, the roads are definitely testing and DD had to exert strong concentration all the way. Poor lad, he is still not particularly well – the bug he picked up is waning, but even today, he is not himself and is currently snoring gently in the background. I still have not succumbed, but can am fighting the good fight against swollen glands – I am not giving in! We have our mates Steve and Sylvia joining us tomorrow, last time we saw them I was recovering from a lurgy, I AM NOT going to be ill again this time!! NO, NO, NO.....

Where was I? Oh yes, The Mountain. It was great and I would suggest a definite ‘must do’. The following day we took a leisurely drive up to Wynyard and back. The coastline along the way is a little tame by WA standards, but pretty never the less. Penguin really appealed to me and we will take a drive back as far as Burnie while we are here in Stanley, so that we can have a proper look. As DD wasn’t the best, we just drove and didn’t really explore that day. There is a Maker’s Workshop in Burnie that I really want to have a good look at. Burnie is quite a big town and it would be very easy to get lost there I suspect. We will wait until DD feels better.

Pretty Coastline between Penguin & Burnie

We are staying here in Stanley for at least a week and so I will have a chance to put up the next blog before we leave here. Then we will be all up to date, for a little while at least. As DD is still floating little snores thru’ the van, I will take it upon myself to say his bit – he wanted to talk to you about the roads. As far as the mountain is concerned, leave your vans in a CP, the roads are just toooooo steep and bendy. The road to Stanley however is just fine – 4 lanes most of the way and plenty of overtaking lanes after that. We stayed at the Big 4 in Devonport, the park was neat and tidy and for our ‘doggy’ mates, it is pet friendly. In fact, there were a couple of very hippy types in two vans, (one each) who had a rather pretty pussycat on a lead. Very unusual, not sure what it says about the fellows in the vans, but hey, it’ a free world here (so far). Until next time, be cool, don’t judge and stay well – Steph.
PS - I tried to fit in more photos but they just fidn't dit - never mind, I'm sure I will be able to fit some in next time.

SPIRITED AWAY

The Spirit of Tasmania waiting for us to board

Waiting in queue

Last time I sat down to write, we were still in the delightful little hamlet of Kennett River. We are now in downtown Devonport. I am in major catch up mode, so will try to keep this fairly brief. I do however want to give a fairly accurate description of what is involved in catching the ferry over to Tasmania with your car and van. I have to admit to having a few butterflies about the whole thing and realise now that a little sound information would have avoided most of my nerves.

From Kennett River we headed east to Lorne and then took off northwards toward Whittlesea, thus avoiding towing the van over the eastern most section of the Great Ocean Road. As I mentioned last time, we drove that stretch without the van so didn’t need to repeat that bit. Actually, the worst of the road (curves/hills wise) was west of Lorne anyway, so it didn’t really make that much difference except that we managed to cover more country and see more of beautiful Victoria. The road to Whittlesea wound through the Otway Ranges and was quite spectacular in its own right. From Whittlesea the countryside was much less hilly and we meandered through some very pretty rural countryside until we reached our off-ramp to Werribee. The caravan park was in South Werribee right down next to the sea. The park was a ‘council’ park but the managers were brilliant and the park a friendly one.


In Queue - looking at the Westgage Bridge


It was quite interesting in fact to see just how many permanent and semi-permanent vans were there. By our WA standards, the area is not particularly scenic – just mobs of market gardens set on really flat low-lying land, finishing abruptly at the bay. Regardless of this, it seems that it is very popular. Quite a few folk there spend their winters in Queensland and their summers at Werribee! Anyway, as I said the park was very friendly and we made some new mates there and re-connected with a couple we had met on our way across.

Even though Werribee is some 40ks out of Melbourne and away from the ferry, it seems to be a favourite spot for ferry travellers to stay pending boarding The Spirit. I suppose their reasoning was similar to ours. Close enough for an early morning drive in without being right in the insanity of a big city. It turned out there were 3 other couples all leaving on the Ferry at the same time as us – excellent!

Speaking of big city insanity, one of my plans was to meet up with one of my Victorian relatives whilst there. My father’s cousin Edna, lives in Malvern, an inner-city suburb of Melbourne. WELL..............................DD was that day, Daring Douglas as we headed off to cross the Westgate Bridge and fight our way through Melbourne traffic to find Edna’s house. We had intended to take a drive over the bridge anyway just to determine where our exit ramp for the ferry was, but to actually head over and into major city traffic, now that was something else. We did have a photocopy of a map to help us, but as these things go, we did become for a little while at least, hopelessly lost. DD was wonderful and kept his cool amazingly as we dodged trams, buses, trains, heavy lorries, bustling cars and the odd (and I do mean odd) cyclist. Eventually in some desperation we activated our GPS and miraculously soon found ourselves in front of Edna’s little home. I have to say here girls, that even tho’ DD was at his sterling best that day, he still didn’t want to believe the dulcet female voice emanating from the GPS and I had to really push for him to follow her instructions. Perhaps we would do better if I changed the voice to a male one – blokes, as we know, usually listen to other blokes.

Anyway, back to Edna’s little home. This house has been in the family forever and is a tiny weatherboard home tucked between large commercial enterprises on all sides. The home is in Malvern Road Malvern and the tram (along with the rest of the world) goes past the front door. Edna and her hubby Bill are both octogenarians albeit very young ones. They were delightful and made us completely at home. I have had very little to do with this side of my family and it was both a pleasure and a revelation to hear some of the family history.

Aside from visiting Edna, DD also took us over to Hopper’s Crossing to find a Harvey Norman store where we purchased my new camera. The traffic over there was also pretty daunting. It all boils down to not really knowing where you are going. Not a problem in some backwater town, but more alarming when in a major metropolis.

Oh, one last item regarding Melbourne and the traffic – Edna mentioned in passing the bridge over the road in front of the Alfred Hospital. Helicopters land on the bridge bringing in patients from – you know, I don’t know where from, but I suppose out back somewhere. Anyway, as usual I listened with half an ear, but I’m glad that I did hear her. As we were fighting our way back to the caravan, lo and behold, a big chopper lowered itself right in front of us onto that very same bridge. The whole scene was surreal. Traffic everywhere and there in the middle of everything, this helicopter dropping down right in front of us! It was a good thing I had my trusty camera handy!

Helicopter Landing Right in Front of Us!

So back to the caravan park – we met a lovely couple there, Nellie & Martin – Nellie T is a very accomplished lady and a singer to boot. We purchased one of her CDs and will cherish that reminder and her beautiful voice. We also reconnected with Alan and Roz who we met previously in Port Campbell. This lovely couple were responsible for us staying at Kennett River and have earned our gratitude for that great tip.

I mentioned how good the manager at Werribee CP was, nice bloke by the name of Brett, was just so helpful. When we arrived there, he had already photocopied the map and highlighted the path to the Ferry Terminal for us. The big benefit to this, was that there were two ways to go, and without his advice we would most probably have taken the alternative route, which we now know would have been a pain as it encompasses a track just full of speed bumps. We caravanners hate speed bumps!!

So..............deep breath....................to get to the terminal, one needs to drive over the amazing Westgate Bridge and take the first exit after the bridge – Todd Street. From there it is pretty simple, but either a GPS or a copy of a map would be a good idea. We had a day-berth leaving at 9am on Sunday morning. Day trips are pretty much reserved for the summer months – the remainder of the year being pretty much dedicated to night crossings. We left the CP at 6am, and apart from having trouble getting Jezabelle through the exit gate at the CP we had a trouble free run to the terminal. When we arrived there, we joined a queue of fellow caravanners sitting in line waiting to board. We were really pleased to have been in company of the other 3 couples leaving from the Werribee CP – we more or less travelled in convoy and there was some comfort gained knowing we weren’t alone.

While we were waiting in line, we were approached by a security guard from the Spirit who questioned us regarding gas bottles, fuel and weapons. One cannot take loose gas bottles on board – these have to be handed over before the journey and they are returned at journeys end. We had several small bottles which belong to our small portable burner – we just placed them in a bag and retrieved them when we arrived in Devonport after passing through customs. The same rule applies to weapons. Any fuel receptacles, like the ones many of us carry on the back of vans, must be empty. One of the blokes in our group declared his brand new axe (weapon!) and he had all sorts of trouble retrieving it when he arrived in Devonport.

Looking down the line in front of us - still waiting in queue!

Slowly the line of vans inched forward and eventually we all drove into the very bowels of the ship. It was really interesting and not at all scary. The ferry personnel are very good and guide you at every turn (literally) and make sure that nothing goes amiss. Once in place, you simply jump out of your car, lock up and go upstairs for a look around. The ferry is quite large – although I still marvel at just how many cars, vans and trucks they manage to fit in- and quite comfortable. Level 10, there is a bar and plenty of seating; level 7 – a couple of eateries, live entertainment, theatrette and more casual seating. I believe level 8 is for cabins, but didn’t check this out.

Sister Ship Crossing Opposite Direction

We were on board by around 8 am and the ferry pulled out just after 9am. We had brilliant weather all the way across, and only felt the motion of the ship for a short period around half way across. We passed the sister ferry heading in the opposite direction at the mid-point. The day passed very easily, having a coffee, lunch, watching shorts on Tassie, chatting, sitting on deck and playing the odd hand of cards. All in all it was a very pleasant experience.


Level 10 - relaxing on board


We approached the port of Devonport around 6.30 and just before arrival we were called on the PA to move down to our vehicles. An orderly descent to the level where the van was parked and we then simply awaited further instructions. In due course, we were able to drive off to the awaiting quarantine personnel. If there were any complaints at all it would be that they could probably do this bit a little more efficiently. It was slow going and we didn’t reach our CP just around the corner until around 8.30pm.

I believe the day trips are all but finished until the end of the year and so when we go back it will most likely be an evening crossing, and probably not quite so calm, but having done this once now, I have no qualms about the return trip, whenever that may be. If you are curious about the cost, it cost us just over $800 one way – the price is based on the combined length of the van and towing vehicle (ours being 14.3m). If you travel at night, you would probably also have to factor in the cost of a cabin (around $100).

The meals on board were fairly average, but I noticed many folk came better prepared than us and had snack food and sandwiches with them. I think tho’ it is nice to have a coffee in one of the little eateries and perhaps a small something. It makes it all a bit more special.

So, we are now in Devonport, Tasmania – have been here for 5 days and leave here tomorrow for Stanley on the north- west corner of the island. We absolutely love the Apple Isle so far, but I will save my ravings for the next blog. Until then, smooth sailing – Steph.