Tasman Peninsula, Tasmania
/In what would become a bit a trend in 2015, I signed up to all of the spam mailing lists for low-cost airline carriers in Australia in hopes of finding some good bargains. With fairly flexible working arrangements, it is often possible to take leave with short notice. Moreover, sometimes the travel deities throw you a bone; in this case Jetstar proposed travel to Hobart for $39 during a time Mia was in Hobart for a conference. This meant that I could just pop over Bass Strait, pick up a car and get out and do some hiking!
During my time living in Paris, I stumbled across a picture posted to Reddit of Cape Raoul in the Tasman National Park and made a note that once I got back to Australia,it would be one of the first places to visit. If you look on a map of the area, in addition to Cape Raoul, a few other places jump out at you, notably Cape Pillar and Cape Hauy. Conveniently, these capes have a track running between them and can be done in a loop as to avoid backtracking. To boot, there is also a campground (Banksia Campground) just at the start/end point of the hike. We had four days, so we planned to spend two days going out to Cape Pillar, one day going out to Cape Raoul and one day having a look elsewhere out the Tasman Peninsula.
Being coordinated, Mia was able to get from Hobart out the airport and so once I had arrived, we need only pick up the car and head out. Hiring cars can be a rather arduous task; however with the aid of an enterprise rate for personal hire coming from my employer, Avis tends to be the cheapest option - a phrase that otherwise would never be uttered. The airport is tiny and baggage claim efficient, so it was only a matter of minutes before we were on the road. Our destination was Banksia Campground, but we needed to ensure that we got supplies and dinner on the way. Just on the other side of Pitt Water is the small town of Sorell which importantly for us, has a supermarket, meaning we could get our hiking goodies. It was also my first brush with a plastic bag ban, something that Tasmania implemented in 2013. Having only recently returned from France and Germany, where significantly fewer plastic bags are used, it was nice to see Australia following suit. Indeed, plastic bag bans would become a much larger talking point in Australia but in the context of this trip, it was just another point of difference between Victoria and Tasmania.
Further down the road, some 40 kilometres or so we came to where would be our dinner: the Murdunna Store. It is an isolated general store on the shore of Bellettes Bay, which serves up top notch fish and chips. Mia got some fried scallops whilst I couldn't go past the freshly-caught cray sandwich. It should be noted that a cray(fish) in Australia normally refers to a lobster, whereas what other people call crayfish, we would call a yabby. Why this came about I am not sure, but further complicating matters in the Tasmanian giant freshwater crayfish, which is the size of what we would call a cray and actually is a cray. That being said, it is mostly only in the north of Tasmania, so my sandwich was technically a lobster sandwich. In any case, it was delicious.
Continuing south, we were making our way towards camp. Driving in Tasmania is a different experience than the mainland, especially compared to city driving, as the roads are much smaller and often in slightly rougher condition; however the wildlife is the major difference, both alive and dead. The roads are absolutely littered with roadkill, which might reflect the fact there are more animals around or that dead animals are collected less frequently. I suspect it is a combination of the two, as it is certainly clear that there are many more animals around, which keeps you on your tows. Driving to Fortescue Bay is largely on sealed roads until one passes Taranna and heads east along Fortescue Bay Road. It is only about 12 kilometres and the road is good quality; however it is clearly trafficked with many logging trucks; arriving late on a Friday this was not a major issue, but during work hours it could be exciting. Still, with light to spare we found a spot, set up our tent and settled in for the night.
Ils ne passeront pas!
Tasmania is famed for two carnivorous marsupials, both the thylacine and Tasmanian devil, although how the quoll avoided fame is not clear. In any case, on my first visit to Tasmania in 1997, I was lucky enough to see some devils in the wild not far from Queenstown. They are well known for being feisty toward one another, during which time they can be rather vocal. So perhaps you can picture us waking up during the night to hear the blood-curdling screeches of what one might guess to be banshees mere metres away, instilling some sense of excitement of "wow, are there actually devils here?" The answer was disappointingly no, but rather what I would come to appreciate as the both common and aggressive Tasmanian version of the Brushtail possum, which is similar its mainland counterpart except bigger and more bullish. Unfortunately for us, the buggers had gotten into my pack, chewed through a food bag and then started to raid our biscuits. We only lost about one quarter of the pack, but they are biscuits that we would not be enjoying.
Some hours later, we were once again stirring but not to scare away possums, but rather getting up to do some walking. The plan for the day was Fortescue Bay - Cape Hauy - Mount Fortescue - Bare Knoll campground, a 16 kilometre walk with a bit of a climb, but nothing too serious. The weather gods had been kind, providing blue skies and only a small breath of wind, which given our location and the possible weather systems, it was rather welcome. It would actually turn out to be a heat wave, with temperatures up to 15 degrees above the mean, but given the somewhat milder climate in Tasmania, we didn't realise this was the case until we spoke with some people a few days later.
The morning's walking - and almost all walking on the Tasman peninsula - was along exposed coastline, with sheer dolerite cliffs rising out of the southern ocean. The neat thing about dolerite is that under certain conditions it can form impressive pillars, be they in an isolated fashion (such as the Devils Tower in the U.S.A.) or extended patches (such as the Giant's Causeway in Northern Ireland) or many other configurations. In many locations around Tasmania, there are enormous areas of the columns, but nowhere else compares to the 300 metres cliffs running much of the length of the peninsula's coast. And perhaps there is nowhere more astounding amongst the already impressive pillared landscapes than the exposed capes on the peninsula, where in extreme cases, what are effectively single pillars can emerge from the sea. It is for exactly this reason that Cape Hauy is famed, with enormous cliffs between isolated portions of the cape, but resting in between the cliffs in complete isolation is the Totem Pole. The visual wonder of a single pillar rising out of the violent ocean pulls many a gawker and climber, despite causing more than a few casualties to the latter group.
Enormous sea cliffs with Cape Pillar in the distance
The track out to the cape is a touch over 5 kilometres on a good quality track. The were some stairs up a fairly steep section when heading south, away from Fortescue Bay, but mostly it was really pleasant walking, especially once we rose up onto higher ground and had our first views out over the peninsula, all the way over to Cape Pillar. Leaving the main track to go out to Cape Hauy, the path became much more rugged and included a relatively steep decent, but the bottom of which gave us our first really exposed cliff walking. That is not to say the path is exposed, but rather once can access the cliffs and my, my, they are imposing. Further down the path we arriving at the end of the cape, well at least for us. The Cape is defined by a number of large outcrops off the mainland (notably The Candlestick, Mitre Rock and The Lantern), but some keen beans had a slackline, well I suppose in this case a highline, between the mainland and The Candlestick. And whilst I said there was little wind around, that was not true on one of the most exposed locations on the island which, by its very nature is a magnificent wind tunnel. We sat around for a while to see if anyone were game enough to try, but honestly, if anyone were simply able to stand given the gales that were blowing though, it would have been an incredible achievement.
Once we had had our fill of exposed cliffs on the cape, we turned on our heels and walked back in the direction of Mount Fortescue, which at 490 metres is the tallest mountain in the region. Whilst we were no longer on an exposed cape, we were on an exposed mountainside, with occasional breaks in the trees providing top views over to Cape Pillar. About four kilometres from Cape Hauy, we found ourselves at a lookout which was a perfect spot for lunch, but also the spot which delivered a crushing blow to our plans: namely, that the track was closed from that point onward. That meant in order to reach camp, we would have to go the 5 kilometres back to Fortescue Bay and then another 8 kilometres to camp via the inland route, along which we were planning to return. Needless to say that this put a bit of a downer on lunch, but there was not much that we could do about it. We just ate our wraps and then did what had to be done.
Arriving back at Fortescue Bay it was a little sad, as despite having seen some great landscape and having enjoyed being out in the wild, we were back at our start point, and it felt like we hadn't really started. Moreover, once we started on the path, it was not quite as nice as the coastal path - although much flatter - and as we were not longer on the coast, the sun was beating down on us with no wind to cool us off. In any case, we simply trudged along, and it would be this moment upon which I would think when we were speaking to people later on the trip talking about the intense heat over the past couple of days and say - at least to myself - that yes, it was warm, but not unpleasant.
Our final destination was Bare Knoll campground; however we could find no infomarion about the campsite and it was only marked on one of our maps. On the same map, a second campsite was listed at Wughalee Falls, however this would have been on the closed section of the trail. We could see the signs of work being carried out, with duckboards being laid down a new routes being cut through the shrub. The duckboards was unnecessary during out visit, but it is very easy to imagine the with any water, the place would be one large swamp. They also serve a secondary purpose, elevating you above the snakes, of which there were plenty. We only saw tiger snakes, but then again there are only three species of snakes in Tasmania which conveniently means that only single antivenom is required for treatment of bites and one need not identify the offending snake in the event of a bite.
It was a relief when we reached the intersection of the old and new tracks, which meant that our detour was officially over and we were not so far from camp. That being said, as we walked along the path, it was clear that the camp was likely not going to be anything special, as the works had not reached this part of the trail and it was just dense coastal shrub and thick forest where it would survive. At various points the path widened to the level where a tent could be pitched, and after seeing a collection of these, it was evident that this was the campground. The ground was flat, but there was little view to speak of, nor was there any prospect of water. We still had plenty, but life is just much more comfortable when you don't have to worry about conserving water. We set up for the evening, and were still in the honeymoon phase of trying fried-dried meals on this side of the world after having tested most of what Europe had to offer. Needless to say, a meal that comes with a separate sachet of yoghurt sauce was a poor decision. Overall, the day was longer than expected and given Mia was experiencing discomfort from her boots under normal circumstances, so the extra distance was not really appreciated.
Pillar of strength
The weather was still being kind, and we awoke to clear skies and also the calls of the numerous Yellow-tailed black cockatoo. The plan for the day was simple: make our way the 9 kilometers out to Cape Pillar and, unfortunately due to our detour, return the way we came, back to Fortescue Bay. The total trek would be 26 kilometres, but at least some portion of that could be with a day pack, since the track out to the cape is aller-retour. Consequently, we packed up our gear, but left it in our still standing tent. Our first mission was that of finding water, as whilst we had enough, we would have liked more. In an outrageously stupid move, we had passed a stream late in the afternoon of the day before, and despite this having been the first water we had seen in a clearly parched landscape, we did not fill up with the expectation of water further out on the cape. Very unsurprisingly, there wasn't and we suffered as a consequence.
Walking out on the cape was fairly unremarkable for a long section, as the coastal shrub was thick but we were on old but very functional duckboards. Once again, we could see new paths being cut and built, some of which were much better routes, but we simply followed the old path. It was difficult to recognise that we were on a fairly narrow - and ever more narrow - piece of land, but it was not until we turned the corner, arriving at the first lookout which provided views over the towering 300 metre cliffs and the strikingly bare Tasman Island. I have always been fascinated by Tasman Island, which is legendary for its isolation - well the isolation of its lightkeeper(s) - has always had an immense pull for me, exacerbated by my recent reading of the Southern Reach Trilogy by Jeff VanderMeer. Upon actually seeing the island and the surrounding coastline, I was not put off by the idea of being out there, but one cannot help but wonder about pre-helicopter logistics, namely accessing a rock with a circular cross section rising 300 metres straight out of extremely rough water!
Continuing down the path which closely follows the tallest sea cliffs in the country, we gained better views of the cape and Tasman island. Indeed, after a few kilometres we came to what would can be designated the destination of the walk out to the point, despite not being the point itself, but the much more impressive outcrop known as The Blade. As the name suggests, the outcrop is narrow with a mild scramble to the summit, but one is granted a panorama of the cape from the top. Moreover, we were able to see clearly over to Tasman Island and which clarified my musings on how material was brought on to the island: a sketchy boat landing area, a rough access track and a big winch to haul everything up the cliffside. Whilst the island looks somewhat barren, there were a large amount of seals all being very vocal. Apparently it is a favourite haul-out spot for both Australian and New Zealand fur seals, but the colony is elsewhere on the cape.
After a rest and a muesli bar for a recharge, we descended the blade but had a choice to make: there was no path further along the cape, but the blade is still about one kilometre shy of the cape. We decided that as we had come all the way out that it would be crazy not to try and get to the end of the cape, so we began the bash. The shrub was thick and the hill steep, so it was rather slow going. After 20 or so minutes we arrived at a cliff edge beyond which progress would have been a bad idea, so we claimed that we had conquered the cape. I am not sure I would recommend the trip, as the views were not as good as those from the blade and the going was rough. But this was the end of our trek out and from here it was a bee line back to Fortescue Bay. We returned to our campsite, picked up our gear and past that and what would be one of the day's great pleasures, we continued on until we found water, set up for lunch and rehydrated. The combination of food and water was simply blissful, and the large number of black cockatoos around was also delightful. The number of snakes was less delightful, but we are in the territory after all. As is always the case on a return trip, the path is always a little less exciting and given our extra walking the day before, we were looking forward to getting back into camp and relaxing. It was with great pleasure that we arrived back at Banksia Campground, rested our ginger feet and went for a dip in the bay. The beach is top rate and the water crystal clear, but it is also very fresh, even during a heatwave in mid-summer. So despite my best efforts, it was very much an in-and-out affair. Still, it was invigorating. Had we thought ahead, we would have brought along something special to mark the completion of the hike, but luckily the Earth/sun combination would treat us with an amazing sunset, which we could enjoy along with the countless Tasmanian native-hens which inhabit the area.
Shattered
The other goal of our Tasman peninsula trip was to get out to Cape Raoul which is a 15 kilometre round trip, so a good day hike. We had two days left in which to do the hike, and the warm weather was forecast to break in the morning with a cool change and clear off by the late afternoon, we decided to leave the walk until the day after. This meant that we had a day to see things in the area, with the knowledge a decent portion of the day would be bad weather.
Our initial plan was to visit the Port Arthur historic site, the UNESCO heritage-listed former penal colony turned museum. I visited on my trip to Tasmania as a child, but we thought it would be a good way to spend a day; however when faced with the steep entry price ($40 per person) we decided that we would rather visit other sites in the area. Close by to Port Arthur is Remarkable Cave, a sea cave formed in sandstone cliffs. The cave was rather remarkable, as was the view from the nearby lookout from where we could see out to Cape Raoul and the approaching rain.
Looking for other sights in the area, we went north and again to a site I visited many years previously, around Tasmans arch and the devil's kitchen. Arriving at the parking area, nothing looks all that interesting, but a short walk reveals the awesome cavern that is Tasmans arch, a sea cave which where a section of the roof has collapsed, making a sinkhole type feature. The scale is massive and photos do not do the area justice. Nearby is the the devil's kitchen, which is basically a much older Tasmans arch, with the entire system having been eroded out making a sharp cut-in feature. There is also a worthwhile lookout providing great views of the coast to the south and showing the Tasman Coastal Trail which connects the area to Fortescue Bay, which looked to be a spectacular walk.
Back down the road to Pirates Bay is the Tasman Blowhole, another impressive coastal feature - especially when the swell is up as it was for our visit. Making the visit especially worthwhile was the DOO-Lishus food van serving up top quality seafood. We just had a little snack, but we should have had lunch there. Instead, we drove to Waterfall Bay and cooked up some Mi Goreng and enjoyed them in the rain. The lookout provided a great view and the weather was not yet bad enough to stop us from going for a walk to another lookout, but we decided that the path - which actually led back to Tasmans arch - was going to showcase things that we had already seen and it would be worthwhile to venture to some more varied landscape. Consequently, we made our way to the Tessellated Pavement State Reserve, just on the other side of Eaglehawk Neck where the one can find geological oddity that is the Tessellated Pavement. Fractures in the rock are in a satisfying orientation such that the pavement adorns many a postcard, however the conditions were not ideal for enjoying the serenity, with waves battering the exposed coast and rain hammering down.
The weather had properly deteriorated by this point so we were happy to be in the car and doing a bit of driving. We had not real destination beyond the Tessellated Pavement, but found something suggesting that the Dunalley Bay area, specifically Dunalley beach and Carlisle Beach, was worth checking out. Flash forward to 15 minutes later and us sitting at the Dunalley Bay Lookout with simply atrocious weather wondering what on Earth we should do to pass the time. We wanted to profit from being both on holiday and in Tasmania, but it was miserable and when one is camping, there is no simple way to escape the weather. We debated going for a road trip up to Freycinet National Park, but gladly we decided against this. In part this is because we did not have reception and did not know this would take 2h30, but in the end we wanted to ensure we did the Cape Raoul walk and we may not have been able to do that had we gone up to Freycinet. In the end, we decided that we would head back in the direction of Port Arthur and check out the Tasmanian Devil Unzoo, which we had seen a few times already on our driving adventures.
Mia hanging out with the birds
I was not particularly enthusiastic about the Unzoo; however Mia was keen as she wanted to see some devils. Zoos illicit a fundamental discomfort in me: there is something visceral about captive animals which makes me fret for their wellbeing, despite much evidence to the contrary. Indeed, during a public tour in 2012 Sir David Attenborough - A Life on Earth, Sir David gave an impassioned defence of zoos that was both moving but intellectually convincing, but even still I cannot help but shy away. However the Unzoo was a really enjoyable experience and was clearly a force for good. The price was a bit steep - almost exactly the same as entry to Port Arthur - but I will always prioritise conservation of the natural world over the man-made world, so we dropped the cash. Conveniently, not long after our arrival the was a devil feeding along with Birds of the Bush presentation. Both presentations were informative and seeing wildlife is always special. Mia was also lucky enough to be a participant in the bird show. We also got to hand out with some very tame kangaroos!
With the day marching on, so did the weather; it was still very grey and there were scattered showers, but it seemed as the worst had passed. We were keen to settle in and relax, and driven by the desire for a hot shower and a warm pub meal, we decided to stay at the caravan park in Port Arthur. Our decision was also driven by the lack of alternate campgrounds close to Cape Raoul, although we would discover the next day that there is a campsite at the start of the walk (the Raoul Bay Retreat) although this was not advertised at the time. Unfortunately, the camp ground in Port Arthur was a Big4 holiday park (although it has since changed hands) meaning that it is gargantuan and has a whole bunch of stuff we don't want or need, for which one pays a large premium. That being said, the grass was lusher than lush and the showers could scold you into bliss. With a new-found state of cleanliness, we decided to enjoy a pub meal at the nearby Fox & Hounds Inn. Before we would get there though, it would be necessary that I utterly obliterate Mia's phone. In a haze of unpacking and showering, her phone slipped into the doorjamb of the then opened boot. When it was time to go, I closed the boot and a sound that was unmistakably that of a phone being snapped and then crushed could be heard. The shock of this elicited a pretty bad response, meaning that the a beer and hearty English-style pub food was particularly well received.
On a Raoul
Bright and early in the morning, we were driving the back roads on our way to the trail head out to Cape Raoul, and it was here that we discovered the camp site in addition to their local honey stall. I delight in honey, and even though it is fine to bring honey back into Victoria, I still tend to avoid carrying honey around, and I wasn't going to get through 1 kilogram in the 12 hours before our flight home. Disappointed, we set out on the trek to the cape. The path climbs up to the cliffs which run along the coast, and views are withheld until one arrives at the first lookout about 2 kilometres in, from where the view is ace. The walk is deceptively long, as once we reached this point I was thought that there was not all that much more to do, but there is still another 5 or so kilometres out the the cape. The path climbs a little more before descending steeply down some sketchy terrain on the densely forested hillside. Eventually the path comes out along the cliffs and one is then walking amongst fairly exposed coastal shrub. Despite the heavy rains of the day before, everything was dry as a bone, and this included the lake/wetland region which was marked on our map. That being said, it was clear that people had used the same area for camping, with my guess being photographers that want sunset/sunrise photos of the cape, given it is only about 1 kilometre from the lookouts.
I want to emphasise that the entire coastline of the Tasman Peninsula is remarkable. Our previous walk out to Cape Pillar was likely some of the most striking coastal scenery I have had the pleasure of seeing. With that as the setup, Cape Raoul is something else. Geologically, it is composed of the same dolorite pillars that adorn most cliffs in the area, but it is essentially a single row of pillars which extends out into the ocean. The scale is difficult to appreciate from photos, but the fur seal colony on at the base does provide a reference. It was an absolute pleasure to have it to ourselves and enjoy a spot of lunch, which watching the waves thunder in and the seals navigate the turbulent water. Once we were on our way back to the car, it seemed as though that was the trigger for the birds to come out and explore, and once again the enormous yellow-tailed black cockatoos were out in force.
Back at the car, the feeling of the end of the holiday was starting to settle in - we can accomplished the things that we came down to do and there was little else left other than to return to Melbourne. But one can always push back against this sentiment, as we still had an afternoon to enjoy. As always, we are constantly on the lookout for a high-quality bakery to deliver pies and/or treats and/or milkshakes. We had already had lunch, so it would be milkshake hunting, and conveniently, if one returns to Eaglehawk neck via Nubeena (the inhabited bit of the peninsula) there is the Nubeena Bakery And Cafe. With extreme levels of restraint, I did not get a monkey face biscuit but only a vanilla milkshake. Unfortunately it was not the greatest, but it was the most available.
Making our way back to Hobart, we were enjoying the insights offered by the local population on ABC radio Hobart, which whilst the details escape me I remember listening to an absolutely bizarre conversation about the passions someone held for both leather couches and Elvis and how they combined the two. We stopped in at the Pirates Bay Lookout, from where we had a good view over much than we had been seeing and doing for the last few days and was a fitting bookend to our Tasman Peninsula adventure. Back in Hobart we had time for some dinner before our flight, but not so much, so we researched what was (at least according to TripAdvisor) the best fish and chips in Hobart, but also close to the airport, which landed us at The Fish Bar in Bellerive. Having not spent much time in Hobart, I knew the location only for the oval which was quite literally next door to the restaurant. In a lapse of sense, we ordered and decided to get takeaway with the rationale that it will be nice to eat in the park or on the beach. A few minutes later has us steaming up the windscreen of our little car in the car park of the the adjacent playground as the wind was miserable. Worse, the fish and chips were nothing special which cut deep as I was super psyched for deliciousness. But alas, you cannot win them all.
As a side note, the area has recently been opened up much more and now has much better infrastructure (see the "Three Capes track").