The following trip to Tasmania was our first major trip together.
It was Friday 25th January 2002, and we were about to leave for Tassie.
This trip was planned last year, and we were booked to depart Melbourne for Tasmania onboard the “Spirit” on 11th February. Then I found out that I could have my knee replacement on 18th January, and we cancelled our trip. Then, two days before the operation, I suffered two angina attacks, (probably brought on by high blood pressure through pain, and nerves) and the operation was cancelled.
We were both a little down and deflated by the turn of events when Bev said, “Look, I’ve got the time off work for your recovery period after the operation. Why don’t we use that time and still go to Tassie?” We did just that, and rushed around to organise the trip in under a week. Phew!
After checking out prices on the “Spirit”, we decided not to take our caravan. We weighed up the cost of taking the caravan against not taking it, and staying in cabins in caravan parks. The latter seemed the best option to us. We also had to consider that this was going to be a shortish trip, and towing the caravan would certainly slow us down. I’d checked out the caravan/cabin situation on the Internet, and there seemed to be an abundance of places offering reasonable rates.
Day 1. Friday 25th January 2002.
Now we were on our way. We left Glenmore Park at 2.40pm, after Bev got home from work, and travelled down the Hume Highway and made Gundagai before dark, where we stayed the night.
Day 2. Saturday 26th January 2002.
Up early the next morning and headed for Melbourne, after the mandatory breakfast stop at McDonalds. We arrived in Melbourne around 1.30pm and found Ashley Gardens Caravan Park, (Big 4) where we’d booked a cabin for the night. Then it was off to find Station Pier, where the Spirit departed from at Port Phillip, as Sunday would be an early start. I can certainly recommend Ashley Gardens Caravan Park to anyone wishing to base themselves close to Melbourne’s CBD. Melbourne’s Ring Road system make getting around relatively easy, providing you have a good navigator…I do.
Day 3. Sunday 27th January 2002.
It was still dark when we rose on Sunday and we were in the queue to board the Spirit around 6.30am. The trip to Devonport took thirteen hours and, apart from Bev getting a little seasick after lunch, was uneventful. We’d both taken seasick tablets too. The Spirit was very comfortable, though the cabins are smallish, and the food, service and shopping was all excellent. On arrival dockside at Devonport around 9.40 pm, we were greeted by rain. We were booked into the Edgewater Motel, right next door to the dock, and found it without any trouble. Even though we’d just sat around the entire trip we were both tired and crashed quickly.
Day 4. Monday 28th January 2002.
It was wakey, wakey early and into the shower. We were both very excited; this was the first day of our Tassie adventure. We were on the road at 7.30am, heading west toward Burnie, where we ran into this humongous thunderstorm. Not a good start to the adventure, but it didn’t last long. We were amazed that there was hardly a soul around as we travelled west. It appears that Tasmanians are late risers. We were to find this everywhere we went, even on workdays nothing much happened until around mid morning. We refuelled in Burnie and heard the entire history of Tasmania from the service station proprietor. He even had the solution to all their shipping and political problems. He continued his running commentary as he followed us back to the car, and then walked beside us as we drove down the driveway, making our escape…friendly guy.
Continuing west, we stopped off along the way to sight see, and called in at Wynyard, and some of the other small seaside towns, stopping off for morning tea. We arrived in the historic township of Stanley and booked a cabin in the Big 4 Caravan Park, right on the seashore, for two nights as we decided to base ourselves in Stanley… there appeared so much to see and do. The drive into Stanley is just amazing. We came around a bend in the road, and there in the distance was Stanley, with this huge piece of rock called The Nut towering over the township and guarding the Harbour. We later found out it was a piece left over from an ancient volcano…the core so to speak, and it was given the name The Nut.
After settling into our cabin, and then doing some grocery shopping, we took a look around. There was a chair lift operating right up to the top of The Nut…not for us though, we both hate heights and it was very windy. We decided to go on a seal cruise and arranged that. We met the skipper and wife at the Harbour and were joined by two other tourists, and a professional photographer. It was still very blowy and the skipper said that it might be too rough to get out to the seal colony, some half-hour or so away. He was so right and we came about and headed back to the Harbour within fifteen minutes. It was then onto historic Highfield House, circa 1832-1835, for a very informative two hours or so. The old house is undergoing restoration work and is just steeped in local history. Hats off to some of the locals who have worked hard to get it to where it is today, and run tours of the home and surrounding outbuildings, as well as a night time ghost tour. The history of the house and its owners was both interesting and a little sad.
Day 5. Tuesday 29th January 2002.
We were up early again and off on a 1-1/2 hour drive to the Arthur River on the West Coast for a cruise we booked the day before. The Arthur River is pristine, with rain forest and lots of bird life. There are two cruises operating out of the Arthur River Township and we’d chosen the newer of the two. For half the journey we travelled a reasonable gravel road, and arrived at the office around 9.00am to meet our hosts, Rob and Kaye Chandler, who also operate a small motel and caravan park there.
The cruise boat, named Reflections, was an ex fishing boat that Rob had gutted and completely refitted in their back yard, much to Kaye’s disgust. He did a great job on it; it’s a real credit to him and was obviously a labour of love.
The cruise was just fantastic… a true wilderness cruise, and Rob took us, and the other nine guests, up as far as his own landing at Warra Creek, some two hours up river. Along the way we say a number of White Breasted Sea Eagles that have lived and bred in the area for years. These birds are quite rare apparently. Both he and Kaye have done an incredible job of the landing and have made it very comfortable, without being conspicuous… it just blends into the surrounding rain forest.
We had morning tea there and then Rob took us for a guided walk through the rain forest. He certainly knows his stuff and told us all bout the exotic native flora and fauna. He’s made little trails through the rain forest, but again has left it pretty much as he found it. He’s very careful just where he walks and touches nothing. He was telling us that some species of flora are so delicate that to touch them would kill them.
Back on board, and heading back to base, Rob treated us to more running commentary and his quick wit. On our return around 2.00 pm, Kaye had prepared a delicious barbeque, which was enjoyed by all. They’re a lovely couple and really enjoy their little part of Tassie and their casual life style. We then headed back to our base at Stanley, full of food and wonderful memories of a terrific day out after witnessing, first hand, some of “the real Tasmania”.
Day 6. Wednesday 30th January 2002.
At 7.45am we left Stanley behind and headed east, back toward Wynyard, to link up with the main road south to Strahan, our destination today. The drive was very scenic, with plenty of twists and turns after we left the coast and began to head south. We stopped off in the small lakeside township of Tullah for morning tea. We then continued on and between Rosebury and Zeehan saw our first Tassie Devil in the wild. He ran across the road ahead of us, and then ran parallel to the car before disappearing into the bush. This was a memorable experience as the only other “Devils” we saw were either in captivity, or lying dead on the road.
We stopped off in the historic mining town ship of Zeehan and visited the Mining and Railway Museum. Again, like most of Tasmania, this place was steeped in local history and was a credit to the locals who’ve painstakingly done so much restoration works. I thought of the “Train Buffs” at The Sydney Society of Model Engineers, and thought how envious they’d all be.
After a pleasant tour of the museum we continued on to Strahan and booked a cabin in yet another caravan park after arranging a cruise of the Gordon River for the following morning. The afternoon was spent looking around Strahan and visiting some of the local craft places and the boat harbour. A visit to Tutt’s Whittle Wonders saw the purchase of an unusual walking stick whittled from a piece of a young Blackwood Tree. This guy had collected unusual pieces of timber over the years and whittled them into some fantastic pieces. His sense of humour was as good as his woodwork.
Strahan has it’s own sawmill where you can buy most types of Tassie timbers. There is also a retail shop at the front selling some wonderful pieces of timber ware, all made from Tassie timbers. The prices reflected the quality, leaving us to purchase some of the less expensive stuff as mementos.
Strahan reminded me a little of what Airlie Beach in Queensland was like about twenty years ago. During our travels we often saw the old flat roofed houses so popular in the 1950’s…these were quite commonplace all throughout Tassie; hence part of the reason I’ve titled this “Tassie, Four Steps Back In Time.”
Day 7. Thursday 31st January 2002
Another early start sees us down at the boat harbour by 8.30am ready for our cruise of the Gordon River. This cruise was nothing like the one we’d done on the Arthur River. This was a much bigger boat, and much, much more touristy, enjoyable and informative nevertheless. The boat firstly headed out to a narrow opening at the entrance to Macquarie Harbour…a landmark known as “Hell’s Gates”. Sarah Island, in the middle of the harbour, was used as a penal colony in the early days, and as the convicts came through the heads into Macquarie Harbour they believed they were on their way to Hell. Like most of Tasmania, the Strahan area has many gruesome tales about the early convict day’s… tales of cruelty and misery.
The cruise boat passed by many salmon farms in the harbour on it’s way to the Gordon River. The cruise up the river was most pleasant, though this area is not as pristine as the Arthur River and the absence of any bird life was noticeable. We disembarked at Heritage Landing for a walk through the rain forest on a raised walkway. On the return leg of the journey the boat stopped off at Sarah Island for a guided tour, conducted by a local theatre group. The island had an air of sadness about it, and no wonder, considering the acts of cruelty that were experienced there. I was to later experience a much stronger feeling of sadness and grief when we visited Port Arthur, but more about that later.
Day 8. Friday 1st February 2002.
We were leaving the West Coast behind us today and heading for Hobart to the south.
7.30am we were on the road again, this time heading east for Queenstown before turning south. The early morning views after climbing up from Strahan were breathtaking. That is until we got to Queenstown. What a boring desolate hole! In my opinion, if they were going to give the world an enema, then they’d insert it into Queenstown.
The mining there has stripped the surrounding countryside bare… it’s devoid of all vegetation and resembles a moonscape. We had intended riding the AB train up through some of the spectacular countryside to the west of Queenstown, but it had derailed the day before and wasn’t operating. We stopped in Queenstown only long enough to refuel, and then we were off again.
Our drive down to Hobart took us near a small township called Tarraleagh. Situated nearby was a huge hydro electricity power station. We decided to stop in Tarraleagh for a cuppa only to find the streets deserted. It looked like a ghost town… very spooky.
Further along we passed through some wonderful countryside, including Hamilton and New Norfolk. Arriving in Hobart early afternoon, we booked into the Mornington Cabin Park for four nights, that is after getting lost in Bellerive. At least we saw the Tasmanian home of cricket, even if it was by accident. We decided to base ourselves in Hobart for a while and do a trip each day.
Day 9. Saturday 2nd February 2002.
Today is Port Arthur day. The sky looked very overcast, rain wasn’t far away. The trip to Port Arthur was a pleasant one passing through Sorell, Copping, Dunalley and Eagle Neck. Reaching Port Arthur I was pleased that I’d bought that walking stick back in Strahan, as there was some walking involved. We were lucky as it was a relatively quiet day and one of the staff operating a little courtesy buggy ferried us about. The feeling in the air was so depressing and cheerless. No wonder, considering the acts of cruelty that had taken place there while it served as a penal settlement. Such a beautiful outlook, view wise, but such a horrendous place.
We visited as many sites as we could manage and then took the boat trip out onto the harbour. The trip was relatively short, but the commentary was great, even though the young lady rushed it a bit. We passed by the Isle of the Dead, Port Arthur’s own burial ground. Convicts, military and civilians alike were all buried on that tiny island. The convicts occupied the low side, while the military and civilians occupied the more prestigious sites. The skipper of the boat had written a little book on The Isle of the Dead so we bought a copy, which he kindly signed for us.
Right near the main building is the now infamous remains of the Broad Arrow Café, the site of the most recent Port Arthur tragedies. When, on Sunday 28th April 1996, Martyn Bryant ran amok, killing thirty-five innocent people on his murderous rampage. A memorial has been erected there as well as a pool of remembrance.
In the downstairs foyer of the main building is a small memorial to the three staff members included in the thirty-five that Bryant murdered on that day. As I read the verse on that memorial I wept and asked Bev to write it down for me. It goes like this:
Do not stand at our graves and weep,
We are not there,
We do not sleep.
We are a thousand winds that blow,
We are the diamond glint on the snow,
We are the sunlight on ripened grain,
We are the gentle autumn’s rain,
When you awake on the morning’s hush,
We are the swift uplifting rush of birds circling in flight,
We are the stars that shine at night.
Do not stand at our graves and weep,
We are not there,
We do not sleep.
Those words, together with the heaviness of grief and pain in the air, made me think of the stupidity and waste of human life, then and centuries ago. Animals kill only for self-preservation, or food. Man kills out of hatred, to me that makes us lower than most animals. And we’re supposed to be the bright ones!
As we completed our tour of Port Arthur it rained, and that seemed appropriate to me as it matched my melancholy mood.
Our spirits lifted on our trip back to Hobart and we popped in to see the Tasman Arch, Devil’s Kitchen and a quaint little seaside village called Doo Town. The houses in Doo Town all had names. There was This’ll Doo, Gunnadoo, Kakadoo, Xanadoo. We Doo, Doo Us, Doo Write, Doo Me, and many more. It appears that the inhabitants of Doo Town all had a sense of humour.
Day 10. Sunday 3rd February 2002.
This morning we set off for the top of Mt. Wellington. You could see it from the cabin park, way off in the distance. It stands like a silent sentinel, overlooking Hobart, the Derwent River, and the surrounding district. It took quite a while to reach the very summit…the road is narrow in places and is full of twists and turns. I opened the car door to get out to take some photographs and was hit by a freezing, howling wind.
It was so cold up there. I scurried inside the glass walled observatory and took my photographs in relative comfort. It took a little talking to convince Bev to get out of the car and join me. On the road up there are five gates and, depending on the current weather and road conditions, these gates can be opened or closed to allow, or prohibit, public access to the summit. In bad weather it would be absolute stupidity to try and access the summit. On the way up we noticed many walking tracks leading off the main road. You’d need to be really fit to even try some of those walks.
From Mt. Wellington we ventured south and began making our way down to visit Southport, at the lower end of Tassie, and the towns and villages in between.
This is apple country and some of the scenery was quite breathtaking. To do this we pass through the Huon Valley, renowned for its tree top board walk through the forest. On our way down it rained and we were told the tree top walk would be closed.
We stopped of in Dover for morning tea at a bakery café, and then it was on to Southport. This area is quite pretty and unspoiled. The main road was more or less equivalent to one of our little country lanes, for while it was sealed it was very, very narrow. After lunch we leisurely began to wind our way back to Hobart.
We arrived back in Hobart around mid afternoon and decided to check out Constitution Dock, the City Centre, Salamanca Markets, Battery Point, and anything else of interest. While we enjoyed the atmosphere of Constitution Dock, we were disappointed as we expected something to match Darling Harbour. I have no idea how they get the Sydney to Hobart fleet in there, as it’s really tiny. The City Centre itself is quite small and easy to find your way around. You just need to remember which streets are one way only.
The charm of the old buildings is wonderful, and it’s easy to imagine the hustle and bustle many years ago when all this was new. The entire area is well preserved, and is just like stepping back in time. We spent a leisurely couple of hour’s sight seeing before heading back to the cabin park.
Day 11. Monday 4th February 2002.
Today we visited the historic Georgian township of Richmond, situated about a twenty-five minute drive north east of Hobart. What a quaint and well-preserved village!
When we saw the famous Richmond Bridge I recognised it from an oil painting I once had hanging on the wall. It’s reputed to be the oldest, still in use, bridge in Australia. It’s also probably the second most photographed and painted bridge in Australia, second only to the Sydney Harbour Bridge. The towns folk are really friendly and obviously realise they owe their existence to the thousands upon thousands of tourists who flock there each year.
We did the tour of the miniature Old Hobart Town…it was like taking a step back in time as the miniature presented Hobart in the early days. We also did the old goal tour…another place of pain, cruelty, suffering and desperation. Tasmania must be filled with ghosts? We also enjoyed a traditional Devonshire tea at this lovely old English teahouse. The owner was telling us that she worked there as a young girl and dreamt it would be hers one day. Well, some twenty years on, it is hers now. We checked out all the little souvenir shops and bought a little wooden plaque made of all the different Tassie timbers, with a picture of the old Richmond Bridge on it.
Day 12. Tuesday 5th February 2002.
Up and packed, ready to leave Hobart by 8.15am. Today’s destination was to be Swansea on the east coast.
We travelled through Sorell, Orford, Triabunna and then on to Swansea. To our surprise this only took us til mid morning, as there was little to stop and look at along the way. We looked around Swansea, had morning tea, and decided to travel on to St. Helens, which was to be our destination the following day.
We called in for a toilet stop at Coles Bay, and then it was on to Bicheno, and our first glimpse of the ocean in a while. Bicheno was a beautiful spot with magnificent water and coastline to surpass anything we’d seen so far.
We stopped for lunch at a restaurant overlooking the bay and had the best fish and chips in years. What cost us $8-95 in Bicheno would have cost $30-00 in a similar situation in Sydney. The view from our table was just breathtaking.
On our way back to the car we stopped and talked to a couple around our age, travelling on two Harley’s with Queensland registration.
We’d seen the same couple the day before in Richmond. They were in Tassie for a HOG rally and were travelling through to St. Helens as well. We arrived in St. Helens late afternoon and booked into a cabin for the night. To our surprise the bikie couple booked into the same caravan park.
We decided to go and see the Bay of Fires that afternoon and asked the bikie couple if they’d like to come with us, as it was mainly dirt road. What a disappointment, there was very little to see that was worthy of the drive down the gravel road.
We were a little disappointed in what we’d seen on the east coast, especially as we were told before leaving for our trip how beautiful the east coast was. We really enjoyed the ruggedness of the west coast much more. I guess we’re spoiled as we’ve both seen prettier places in northern New South Wales and Queensland.
Day 13. Wednesday 6th February 2002.
We left St. Helens at 7.20am for the two hour trip to Launceston. On the way we passed through many little sleepy villages. As I’ve said before, life in Tassie doesn’t seem to start until around mid morning. We arrived at our caravan park in Legana to be told we were too early to book in to the cabin we’d arranged there, so we went off to explore Launceston.
We eventually found the Cataract Gorge, situated not far from the hub of Launceston, but decided not to explore there as it was steep and involved a lot of walking.
After a look around we went to Penny Royal World but couldn’t handle all the steps and stairs involved in looking around this quaint place.
We read about the auto museum and decided to visit there. It was certainly worthwhile as there was a great display of vintage cars and motorbikes, very reminiscent of Gilltraps on the Gold Coast.
In the afternoon we drove up to Beauty Point, then across the Batman Bridge and on to George Town.
Launceston is a lovely spot, situated right on the Tamar River, very easy to drive in and has a lot going for it. We booked a river cruise with Tamar Cruises for the following day.
Day 14. Thursday 7th February 2002.
Time for our Tamar River cruise! We spent a fabulous day aboard the Tamar Odyssey. Tasmanians claim that the Tamar River, at 76km, is Australia’s longest navigable tidal estuary. Tasmanians are funny in that they love laying claim to such facts… I guess this could be pride too, as they’re certainly proud of their state.
The cruise actually started in the Cataract Gorge. So we got to see it after all, and without walking. It’s quite spectacular and breathtaking. From there we continued up the Tamar, taking in the many spectacular sights along the way, including passing under the unusual Batman Bridge.
This cruise is certainly worth doing, and I’d highly recommend it to anyone. Seeing the sights from the river, as opposed to seeing them while driving, puts a different perspective on things, and allows the normal driver the opportunity to sit back, relax, and let someone do the “driving”.
Day 15. Friday 8th February 2002.
It’s time to leave Tassie and head back to the mainland…our holiday was nearing its end. We arrived in George Town early and had a look around before heading down to the Devil Cat departure point to wait to board the Devil Cat for our homeward journey.
We’d heard so many tales about how rough the trip on the Devil Cat could be. Bev was quite nervous, as we’d heard it referred to as “The Vomit Comet” and the “Spew Cat”. Anyway, our fears were unfounded as the trip back to Port Phillip Bay went quickly and was uneventful.
We stayed the night at Ashley Gardens Caravan Park again.
Day 16. Saturday 9th February 2002.
We left Melbourne early to head for home in one hop, arriving home late in the afternoon, tired but really pleased with our trip.
Summary:
We thoroughly enjoyed our trip to Tassie. There were times however that we were somewhat disappointed. I guess this comes from listening to other people’s opinions prior to the trip, then finding that the places they described don’t live up to our expectations. Lets face it, we’re all different, and see different things in different places.
In our opinion, the west coast is by far the most interesting…the people seem friendlier, and the countryside is what we expected to find in Tasmania. If you want beautiful beaches then visit northern New South Wales, Queensland or even Western Australia.
Although we took lots of photos, we also bought lots of post cards, particularly of the real Tasmanian attractions. I figure those post card photographers only take the best views on the best days, and are much more accomplished photographers than I’ll ever be.
Sometimes while touring Tassie it’s difficult to realise that you’re still in Australia… it’s just so different to anything on the mainland.
The historical side of Tasmania is a real eye opener, and quite sad. The fact that it was first settled as a penal colony is quite obvious when looking at all the preserved penal institutions on display. The feeling of despair, human suffering and sadness still hang in the air today. The cruelty that took place in those institutions is almost beyond belief.
The preservation of the original buildings is to be admired. No huge high-rise buildings here. The old certainly hasn’t been sacrificed to make way for the new either. No, Tassie’s still in its original state…in fact visiting Tassie is like taking "four steps back in time."
