Between the Devil and the Deep Blue Sea

Between the Devil and the Deep Blue Sea
Hobart, Australia

Hobart, Australia

Blog Tasmania 2 Beautiful, beautiful, beautiful, there is not much else to be said about Tasmania, but for the purpose of this blog, I guess that I need to expand a little…. Tasmania is a part of Australia that is like marmite to Australians, they either love it or hate it. Without question, we loved it. It is like going back in time, it is old fashioned, it is spread out, it is very much like deepest darkest Cornwall where I grew up as a kid. Anyone who lives in Coles Bay considers it completely normal to drive 2 hours to Hobart or Launceston each week to do their food shop, a concept that those of us from little old Jersey can barely contemplate. So here is our whistle-stop tour of the beautiful island of Tasmania, but first of all it is time for some factoids… Tasmania is 150 miles south of Australia across the Bass Straight, it is the 26th largest island in the world. It has a population of 513,400 and is 24,900 square miles in size, almost half the population live in and around Hobart. The state is named after Dutch explorer Abel Tasman, who made the first reported European sighting of the island on 24 November 1642. Tasmania is the last remaining home of the Tasmanian Devil, the largest carnivorous marsupial in the world. Sadly Tasmanian Devils are battling an epidemic of transferable mouth cancers which restrict their ability to feed and is said to have wiped out up to 50% of the population. However on a more positive note, Latrobe, a tiny little village outside Launceston with a population of around 3,000 people has declares itself the ‘Platypus capital of the world’. One last factoid, did you know that Tasmania is the largest producer of pharmaceutical opium alkaloids in the world? It produces 50% of the worlds Morphine and there are fields just full of opium poppies through central and northern Tasmania, and like everything else in Tassie, they look beautiful. Sadly whilst we were visiting a foolish backpacker ignored the warning signs around the fields and decided to take some poppies to make opium tea and killed himself due to the potency! Onwards with our journey, the first of our stops St Helens, the home to the Bay of Fires, a beautiful stretch of coastline with white sand, clear blue sea and huge boulders lining the coast covered in a bright orange lichen. Many people think that the bright orange rocks are the reason that this stretch of coast is known as the Bay of Fires, but in fact this coast was given its name in 1773 by Captain Tobias Furneaux in his boat Adventure, who saw the fires of Aboriginal people on the beaches. The Bay of Fires, was every bit as beautiful as the photos online made it look. There was not another person around, the sun was shining and the water was crystal clear. I was brave enough to paddle my feet in the sea and it was flaming freezing, no chance of going for a dip in there at all! Our campsite in St Helens, had something that I have been desperate to try for ages… A jumping pillow! This is like a bouncy castle, but it basically a pillow which is attached to the ground and is inflated for children to burn up their energy. I have watched many a child with envy as they spend hours bouncing, and finally we found a campsite with no children, horray!! It turns out jumping pillows are much more tiring than they look and after about 5 minutes I am exhausted and ready for a lie down. Our next stop is Bicheno. Bicheno was once a thriving Coal mining town after coal was discovered in 1848, however when gold was discovered in Victoria in 1855 many residents upped sticks and moved, leaving Bicheno as a sleepy fishing village. Fishing remains the lifeblood of the community of its 853 residents. Unsurprisingly the small supermarket in Bicheno sells no fish as the locals are self-sufficient. After a wrong turn and a slight detour through the very small town we made it to one of the main tourist attractions just in time, the glass bottom boat. This little boat goes out into the harbour and with huge windows gives you a view of the ocean floor without having to venture into the freezing ocean. Very quickly you can see why fishing keeps this community going with huge shoals of fish darting through the seaweed and below the boat. We were very lucky to spot a wobbegong (carpet shark) and also a magnificent eagle ray just swooping under the boat. I could have quite happy just sat in the boat all the day, but for a change we had places to go and people to see. An old friend of Tim’s, Taye, lives in Coles Bay just down the coast from Bicheno and was making a weekly trip to the shops so we caught up for a coffee and a cake. Taye gaves us a tour of the town, which took all of 11 minutes, and took us to the main attraction…. The Bicheno Blowhole. Many of the coastal towns in Australia and Tassie have a blow hole where the ocean has worn gaps in the cliffs and when the tide and waves are a right, water shoots up through the rocks providing a beautiful spectacle. We wondered over the rocks in search of the blow hole, with the tide low we didn’t expect there to be a lot to see. Moments later we learnt a very important lesson. Don’t walk over to the wet rocks. A wave appeared from nowhere, was sucked under the rocks and shot a rather impressive blow hole full of water out and over exactly the spot we were all stood on. Tim being the closest was by far the wettest, followed closely by me and then Taye. The few tourists that had witnessed us getting soaked were rolling around laughing and there was little else for us to do but join them. Bicheno Blowhole certainly lived up to its name for us. Bicheno has some other residents who we hoped to see, the little fairy penguins. With Taye’s expert knowledge we set off to a little beach where some of the penguins head up each night after a days fishing to feed their young. It was a freezing cold Tasmanian night and after our dinner we were snuggled in La Toya and very nearly opted not to bother with the penguins. Thankfully the intrepid explorers in us took over and we set off down to the beach. When we got there, there were about 5 or 6 other people who had also received the inside scoop, but we all just perched on rocks and waited. It didn’t take long before we started to see little flashes of white on the rocks. Before we knew it there must have been about 10 or 15 penguins scattered over the rocks all preening and looking around like meercats waiting for a safe moment to run to the next rock. The other tourists that were waiting left after about 5 minutes, so we then had the whole beach to ourselves to watch these amazing little creatures complete their evening routine. We sat on a rock up near the beach and a group of about 5 penguins just sat next us preening. They did not care for a second that we were sat there. Eventually they made a run for it and headed up the sand to their babies nests but not before scooting right in front of our feet just inches from us. We were freezing cold, but to witness this amazing spectacle unfold in front of us without the other 10 thousand tourists on Philip Island was unreal and well worth the trip. The penguins followed us all the way up the stairs and through the car park, right past La Toya before they all went their separate ways in the shrubbery to their nests. Bicheno, you rock, thank you, and thank you Taye for being our Secret Squirrel and letting us in on the inside knowledge. Every brochure you pick up in Tasmania has pictures of Wineglass Bay, a beautiful bay that you can only get to from Coles Bay, either by boat or by a massive hike. With Tim’s knees there was not a chance that we were going hiking so we booked ourselves onto a boat tour from Coles Bay. We had an early start from Bicheno to get there on time but we made it, the weather was a bit overcast but the sea look
ed calm and perfect for a days boating. We checked in and were issued with our rain jackets to protect us from the elements and before we knew it, we were loaded and were ready for the off. As soon as we were out of the harbour Tasmania’s amazing wildlife was out to greet us, from Fairy penguins out fishing to Sea Eagles sitting proud on the rocky outcrops to fur seals and cormorants out fishing. About 40 minutes into the journey just as we made it out of the bay and into open sea the boat suddenly started to spew black smoke out of the back, this didn’t look good and we were a little concerned that our bad luck charm Barry the Koala who was safely stowed in my camera bag awaiting his photo at wineglass bay had struck again. The staff were rearranging seats and climbing in and out of the engine bay trying to fix and figure out the problem, but it quickly became apparent that there was not going to be any quick fix here so it was time to about turn and limp back to port on our one good engine. The staff were desperate to ensure that we were all happy so they dished out the champagne for the return journey. At the port, after a quick coffee break and engine assessment the bad news was that the engine was pretty much done so we would not be able to go back out, but we would all get a full refund. We may not have made it to wineglass bay and joined the 1% club (apparently only 1% of tourists go here), but we had a free boat ride, saw some cool birds and had some lovely champers, all in all not a bad day if you ask me. We didn’t get there but I still have an interesting and slightly sad factoid about Wineglass bay. The name of the bay doesn’t come from its perfect rounded shape, it has a much sadder tale: In the 1820s, whalers came to Wineglass Bay. The bay itself would take its name from the whalers’ method of hunting. From shore, they would set out in small boats to chase and harpoon passing whales, then tow the carcasses back to shore to butcher and boil down the blubber to extract oil. The oil was shipped to Britain to be used for lighting and the whalebone for ladies’ corsets and hoop skirts. Shore-based whaling lasted about 20 years on the peninsula but in that time, whenever the whalers were about their grisly business, the bay was dyed red with blood – like rich red wine in a glass. That evening we met up with Taye and once again benefited from the insider knowledge and went to a beautiful bistro with the most wonderful views over Coles Bay. We had a very slow drive back home as a whole host of possums and wallabies that really don’t understand that cars and roads are not a good combination at night sat looking at us with wide eyes and eventually hopped off to the hedge. Seriously when is evolution going to teach this nitwits to get out of the road! On the road again the next morning to the little town of Triabunna, the largest township on the east coast with a massive population of 796, yup that’s right 796 people! Needless to say, there is not much in Triabunna, just a pub, a small supermarket, a garage and a fish and chip stall. More surprisingly we booked ourselves onto the campsite for 2 nights. The reason for this is that whilst there is literally nothing to see in Triabunna it is the entrance point and just a short boat ride over to Maria Island. Enroute to Triabunna I noticed a putrid smell in the air of rotten eggs and just assumed that it was something being put on the fields, yuck! So from Triabunna we booked ourselved onto the boat to over to Maria Island. The reason that we were so keen to go here was that it is one of the best places to see wild wombats. Most other people on the boat were there for a days hiking or cycling, dressed in their best hiking gear. We on the other hand were wearing jeans, trainers and had a rucksack full of picnic. It was afterall Valentines Day so we figured a luxury picnic on an island full of wombats would be the perfect way to spend it. Sadly the weather was not being so kind to us, it was a grey and drizzly day, but thankful for my new purchase of a pair of jeans for £3 from a charity shop I was ready to take on the day and hunt down the elusive wombats. Maria Island (pronounced Mariah) is uninhabited save for a small hostel and camp ground. It has formerly been the home to Aborininees, whalers, convicts and farmers and is now a national park with a large population of penguins, Cape Barron Geese, common wombats and even some Tasmanian Devils who have been released onto the island in the hope that the deadly mouth cancer can be bred out of them. We decided to set off on one of the walking trails to the painted cliffs, which looked pretty cool in the hope that we would pass some wombats enroute. We saw some geese and a wallaby and saw more wombat poo than I ever need to. For anyone that is interested, wombat poo is like big rabbit poo, but is square like little buns! We made it to the painted cliffs and decided that this would be the perfect spot for our picnic, much to the surprise of every other tourist who happened to pass, who had an equal look or shock and envy that they hadn’t thought of it. After the Painted Cliffs we walked to Fossil cliffs and had another mini picnic and took in the beautiful views. After 6 hours of walking checking every nook and cranny and even finding a sleeping penguin we had still not seen a single wombat, we had almost given up when the jungle drums reported to us that there was a mother and baby wombat just minutes away from us. With a new enthusiasm for walking we retraced out steps to where we first started our day and there she was a huge beautiful mama wombat and her little baby. We decided to head into the camp area and suddenly there were wombats everywhere, I was so busy trying to point one out to Tim that I very nearly stood on another which is something of an achievement as it was still broad daylight and they are not small. Needless to say despite all the walking Maria Island did not disappoint and we had our fill of wild wombats. It turns out that even on a grey and rainy day on Maria Island the wombats still sleep till 3 or 4pm, just like Tim would given half a chance. For anyone going over to Maria Island that like us has no real desire to hike, go over on the evening boat, spend the night in the hostel or camping and go home the next day, you will definitely see wild wombats and won’t walk 5 thousand miles like us! There is nothing better after a day of hiking than to have a cone of chips from the chip van, yum. Perfect Valentine’s dinner! After a well-deserved night’s sleep we woke up with aching bodies and had to pack up and get back on the road to get to Hobart. Saturday was both market day in Hobart and market day at MONA, (the Museum of Old and New Art). Not long into our trip, once again I noticed the smell of rotten eggs in the air, and suspected that this wasn’t farmers spraying fields but something wrong with La Toya. I did exactly what everyone would do and googled this. My first results had my heart racing as it suggested that this was a fuel leak in the engine and would cause a fire so we pulled over and checked the engine bay. There was no smell, no obvious leaks and nothing untoward so we carried on and I carried on googling. We got to Hobart and decided that whilst we desperately wanted to see the Salamanca Market getting to the bottom of this smell was a priority so we headed to a garage that was amazingly open on a Saturday. The guy agreed to have a look at La Toya, he couldn’t see anything untoward and even commented that she sounded amazing for such an old girl. He fitted us a new oil filter just to be cautious and we were on our way, still stinking of eggs. We decided to leave La Toya parked up at our campsite and headed over to MONA to experience this museum that we have heard so much about to try to salvage some of
our day. MONA has something of a reputation for being weird and strange and OTT, it totally lived up to its reputation. The exhibits were strange, awesome, odd and everything inbetween from a skinned cat,a fat Porsche, a man made digestive system (which smelt like death) and a wall of digital codes. We loved the strangeness of MONA and the market outside was small but very cool with live music, good food and drinks and bean bags to just kick back and relax. Sadly relaxing was not on the agenda for us as we had a smell to identify in La Toya. So back to Professor Google…. One possible culprit was the battery, but we ran the engine and smelt in every crack and crevice and couldn’t smell a thing. I got Tim to run the engine and I had a sniff inside La Toya and I noticed the smell was definitely stronger, especially under the seats where the leisure battery is stored. So we dismantled the bed and had a closer look and smell and there was no question, he had found the culprit. Faster than a rat up a drainpipe we had the battery disconnected and out of the van as Professor Google had just told me that battery cells are very likely to explode when they smell like rotten eggs. So there you go people, another lesson learned, if you have a leisure battery in your camper or boat that smells like eggs, get a new one ASAP! Luckily as we always stay on campsites we can live without our leisure battery so we disconnected it and decided to worry about it on Monday when the shops are back open. The weather in Hobart was not too kind to us, we had rain non-stop and wind rocking La Toya, but our girl stayed water tight and kept us cosy and dry, which was a relief as walking around the campsite there were trees down and caravans on their side from the storms that had hit when we were in Launceston. Down from Hobart we headed to Port Arthur, most commonly known for its World heritage Site of eleven remnant penal sites built within the British Empire in the 18th and 19th century. This is officially Tasmania’s top tourist attraction and in 1996 was the scene of worst mass murder event in post-colonial Australian history, when Martin Bryant went on a shooting spree, 35 people were killed and 23 wounded. Believe it or not, we didn’t actually visit the penal site, as we only had one full day to spare we decided to take to the oceans and go on a Tasman Island cruise. Advertised as a world class eco-adventure cruise traveling along the spectacular coastline of the Tasman National Park between Port Arthur and Eaglehawk Neck with a rich variety of marine wildlife and seabirds, how could we resist. We were given some pretty serious storm gear and sea sickness tablets and set off into the Southern Ocean. The coast line around Port Arthur is just beautiful, with cracks, crevices and caves. The beautiful Cathedral rock and Tasman Island, a great landmark of the Southern Ocean – its slender white lighthouse is still a beacon for seafarers entering Storm Bay including during the famous annual Sydney to Hobart Yacht Race. Aside from the magnificent scenery, the magical wildlife was something beyond words, there was a huge feeding frenzy in the water with seals, dolphins, albatross, gulls and cormorants all dive bombing and breaching the water. It was such a magnificent sight, my photos didn’t really do it justice as I was just stood with my jaw on the floor watching the magnificent seals, dolphins and albatross fight for fish. It was wet, cold and windy, but it was by far one of the most special things I have ever seen. The Southern Ocean really is a fierce but beautiful creature. Our campsite in Port Arthur was lovely and had a huge kitchen area to cook and relax in, the grounds were full of wallabies just hopping around and each pitch even had its own fire pit, but we were too cold to stay outside long enough to get a fire going. One thing that we noticed in Tasmania is that people on campsites really like to talk. This had its benefits in that we met some really lovely people like Lin and Geoff in Triabunna, but it also had its downsides as we discovered here in Port Arthur where we met an absolute lunatic that would not stop talking for love nor money. Despite being held hostage in the kitchen for a good 2 hours in total on various occasions over the course of 24 hours, we still didn’t actually exchange names so we decided that we would just call him John. John was in his late thirties apparently lost his memory, is a teacher somewhere, comes to Port Arthur every year and goes on walks for days at a time. At the time of talking to him, he had been in Port Arthur for 1 week and had not been anywhere as he doesn’t drive and without a car here you can barely get to the campsite entrance without covering 5 kilometers. Needless to say this man was a bit odd appeared everytime I went to the kitchen. I am sure he was harmless enough, but at midnight when I am in my PJ’s and I just want to put my hot water bottle thing in the microwave, I really don’t want to hear about the time he was in a public spa bath in Japan with the yakuza. For someone with amnesia he had a lot of stories!! John did seem to have the ulterior motive that he actually wanted a lift to one of the walking trails, sadly for John we were too afraid of being in a confined space of the campsite let alone La Toya so we had to make our excuses and get the hell away from him. I usually like crazy people, but John was verging on the side of crazy that makes me scared . Safely back on the road and with John stood on the side of the road hitchhiking, we did feel for the poor souls that picked him up and hoped that we would not be reading a Wolf Creek tale in the news anytime soon….. On the way back to Hobart we manage to squeeze in a few stops for some Big Things, although they were somewhat small by our standards. Our first stop in Hobart, Battery World! Thankfully there was an extremely helpful man at Battery World, who took out our old battery, fitted and changed all the fixtures and had La Toya in tip top condition before we knew it. He was actually surprised by the state of our old battery as Leisure batteries are designed to never smell like ours did. In a way it is good that it did smell as we would never have known it was broken and may well have ended up with a rather large explosion!!??!! The weather down south was being particularly unkind to us, we were cold, we were getting rained on and we were not really having much fun so we decided to head North to explore some of the Coast. Not quite on the coast , but our first stop had to be Latrobe, The Platypus capital of the world!! We checked into a nice little campsite and booked ourselves on the local Platypus tour, we met the guide as the sun was starting to set and followed him 10 minutes down the road to a patch of river and waited. Within a couple of minutes we could see what looked like sticks floating on the river but were actually platypus resting for some air before vanishing back to the riverbed to feed. We waited at the side of the river where they usually come out of their burrow and were treated to a couple of platypus emerging and darting across the river. They are quick little things and getting any photos in the fading light was pretty impossible, but once again Tasmania had provided a beautiful wild animal encounter that could knock the socks off any zoo visit. For our North coast tour we decided to drive to the end to a town called Stanley, stopping for the numerous Big Things along the way, then we would work our way back along the coast stopping where we fancied on the way back. Stanley is the home to the Nut. The Nut is an old volcanic plug discovered by the explorers Bass and Flinders in 1798, who named it Circular Head. It has steep sides and rises to 143 metres with a flat top. I
t is possible to walk to the top of The Nut via a steep track or via a chairlift. When we arrived in Stanley it was sunny but windy but we decided to try to get up the Nut and hope that the wind hadn’t closed down the chairlift, as why would be walk up the Nut when there is a perfectly good chair ready to carry us!? Thankfully the chairlift was running and it was beautiful at the top of the Nut. The views over the ocean and coast were stunning. We walked around the top to the various viewpoints and headed back down the chairlift. Thank goodness we did go up the Nut when we did as the grey clouds folded in and by the evening we were riding out the storm in the comfort of La Toya. We did have plans to visit the next tourist stop along the coast, called Dismal Swamp. It is literally a swamp which you access by a slide. But as we already felt we were in a dismal swamp we parked that trip and had a duvet day instead. Along the coast we had one quick pit stop in Wynyard where we had La Toya booked in for a service and she passed with flying colours and drove like a beauty after an oil change. We also stopped by Burnie and visited the Da Vinci machines exhibition. Italian artisans have created miniature versions of the machines that Da Vinci designed and drew and it was just mind blowing to see the inventions that he had so many years ago that are now used in everyday life. From scuba equipment, tanks, parachutes, bicycles and even the helicopter, Da Vinci had designs for them all. Whilst his machines were never made in his lifetime he really did have the most amazing mind. Sadly photos were not allowed in the exhibition, but if it ever makes it to a gallery near you I highly recommend a visit. After spending the night being rocked and blown and battered by the weather we decided that we maybe needed to head inland to get away from the storm so we opted to return to Latrobe in the hope that we might see some more platypus. We went back to our same campsite in Latrobe, and what a difference, the sun was shining and there was not a breath of wind. The lady on the campsite recognised us and gave us our same pitch and when I was admiring a photo she had on the counter of a platypus she told me that her husband had taken it down at the Tasmanian Arboretum. She explained where it was and told us that the platypus are always out in the lake in the middle at all times of the day. Tim was not convinced, but to keep me quiet he agreed to take me. When we arrived there was not another person in sight so we headed in to take a look. After a bit of a wonder we could see the lake and headed over and low and behold there were about 3 or 4 playpus darting around the middle of the lake. We stood on a little wooden bridge and behind us we saw a trail of mud being displaced and we soon realised it was a platypus scooting along the bottom in the shallow water as they passed right under the bridge we were on. I was smugly taking photos with my zoom lens whilst Tim is desperately trying to get his iPhone to focus as he didn’t even bring his camera he was so sure there would be nothing to see. Once again the advice from locals wins over the tourist information centre. But that is just the way I like it as this place would not be a special with bus loads of Chinese tourists. One last day in Tasmania and still so much to fit in, from Latrobe we headed to a tiny little town called Railton, with a population of just 900, there is not much that is going to draw you to Railton. In 1999 some locals were chatting in the pub and came up with a plan to get people to visit. The plan was to make Railton a Town of Topiary. What a success it has been as pretty much every house and business has some kind of topiary animal or structure outside. The local businesses even hand out maps so you can work your way through the town to see the different designs. Well done Railton, job well done! Our last stop before Devonport was Sheffield, this is known as the Town of Murals, in 1985 the tourist committee decided that something needed to be done to draw people to Sheffield and the outdoor museum began. Sheffield can boast of approximately 2000 square metres of its history, events, heroes and heartbreaks painted on the walls of this quaint little town and each year there is a week-long Mural Fest where 9 artist go head to head and these murals remain on display for the rest of the year. The drive from Sheffield to Devonport was just beautiful with the roadsides lined with fields glowing a lilac grey from the opium poppy heads just waiting to be harvested. Back in Devonport where our trip began and we just have time for a quick visit to the lighthouse to fill our afternoon before and early night ready for an early start on the boat. We packed ourselves a picnic and kept everything crossed for good weather and another smooth sailing, but didn’t hold much hope after the storms that had been battering us over the last week. It seems that the weather gods were shining down on us, we had perfect weather, calm seas, a comfy cabin and another day of sleeping, eating and watching movies whilst we sailed effortlessly back to the mainland. Tasmania you have blown my mind. Anyone that travels to Australia and misses out this little gem is missing so much. Whilst it was cold, wet, windy and stormy it is still one of the most natural, beautiful places I have ever been. The rugged coast, the amazing wildlife and the beautiful people just make Tassie such a special little spot and one that I would love to see again as 3 weeks was just not enough time!! Back on the mainland… next stop Dandenong!