Les Allen
Jo Bulsing
Tahe Kayaks
in WA
Pt Welshpool to Hobart
Pt Welshpool to Hobart
Ever had that sinking feeling in your stomach? I think we all have at some point and
today as the wind buffeted me that feeling was growing. It was suppose to be the start of
the Bass Straight crossing but I knew that it was not going to happen as the wind was
now a steady 20 knots, gusting to 30 and forecasted to go to gale force. After all the build
up, not starting was a blow. We had planned for bad weather days but this was different.
I was nervous about taking on the Bass and stalling at the start was not helping. We had
planned to paddle across the bay and camp before the wind really picked up and couldn’t
even manage that. The feeling of disappointment melded with frustration and nervousness
was greater than it should have been. I was feeling this way because the greatest fear is
the fear of the unknown. Also we had an old lady telling us we were going to die,
explaining how the last paddler to cross Bass Straight left his car at her place and was
lucky to be rescued by a helicopter 3 days later. She told us in great detail how the
helicopter was looking for another missing boat when it came across the up turned
paddler. It was just luck he didn’t die. I needed to get started so I could settle into trip
mode.
The afternoon was atrocious with howling wind and sheeting rain. I was coming back
from the shop where we bought lunch and had to shelter in a tourist information shelter
as the rain and wind was so strong. I chuckled to myself as I had thermals, polatec jacket,
gortex jacket, over pants and beanie on and this was 1st of January. What must winter be
like! But more importantly what will the Bass be like. The bay was littered with white
caps and 6m waves were forecast. I was very glad I was on dry land and could not help
but wonder what lay in store for us.
This time the wind was a lot better and packing the boat felt good. On reflection though,
the 3 days in Port Welshpool weren’t that bad. We stayed at the Pt Welshpool Caravan
Park right in town. They are not a proper park as they have chalets instead of caravan
bays, but the owners accommodated us and gave us brilliant hospitality. I can strongly
recommend them to any paddlers setting off from there. One of the older residents took us
for a drive around the area and told us all the history which filled in one day and was
quite interesting. The night before we left it was drinks around the campers' shelter and
even though it was 6.30 in the morning some of the residents were down on the beach
with us giving us a farewell. The packing finished we headed off across the bay with
Refuge Cove our destination 42 kilometers away.
Pt Welshpool is in a large estuary with green undulating hills and a wind farm behind it.
To our left was some islands and low scrubby country. To our right the sky line was
dominated with the mountainous hills of Wilson’s Prom. I had settled into paddling with
a good rhythm and was happy to finally be on our way. The current at the mouth of the
estuary was really pumping and we were cruising along at 10 km per hour without
working. As we rounded the entrance and looked up the coast to Wilson’s Prom I was
relieved to see the swells were not too bad. One of the Sydney to Hobart yachts was
coming home and had been rolled last night by huge waves in the straight and there was
a full scale rescue with helicopters and a coastal freighter trying to pick up 5 people. At
least the conditions today would help them and make out paddle up the coast easy.
Day 1 was going well with light seas and a light head wind. Sealers Cove looked
beautiful and we were enjoying the rocky cliff line as we turned into Refuge Cove.
What a magnificent sight. A kidney shaped cove with two beaches and thick forest ruining
down to smooth rocks and perfect white sand. To make the picture, a beautiful yacht lay
at anchor. As I paddled in I had a good feeling about the trip.
I woke feeling excited as today was the first crossing. 50 kilometers was not a great
distance and the weather was forecast to be a 10 to 15 knot side wind. The others looked
happy with the day and were going about the business of packing as all around us hills
were starting to form in the first half light of dawn. My nervousness and frustration at Pt
Weshpool was gone and to quote Tel “I was feeling strong like Russia” and confident. I
like that snug warm feeling when you first get in your kayak for a long day and as you
head off the boat melds with your body and becomes an extension of your legs as you
glide over the waves feeling the rhythm of the sea. As the dawn broke I looked around at
clear blue water hearing the soft wash and dip of the paddle as the hull split the crystal
clear water. Behind me Wilson’s Prom looked dark and foreboding as but I was feeling
jubilant to finally be taking on Bass Straight.
10 hours into the day and Ian was really struggling. The side wind was a straight head
wind at about 12 to 15 knots with stronger gusts. We had been pushing into the wind for
a few hours now and our speed was progressively getting slower. With 4 kilometer to go
we ceased making head way and Ian was sea sick He looked shocking as he struggled to
paddle and spew over the side of the boat. Tel was also struggling. He had enough fuel to
make the island but need to get there soon. As Tel and Darren headed off, Ian declared
he was knackered. Nothing left but to pull out the tow rope and put in some work. I was
feeling strong and new we were going to make it ok but one look at Ian and I knew how
bad he was feeling. I had told him before that on trips everyone has bad days and if you
do enough trips one day you will need your mates to give you a hand. All of us at some
time have needed help for a variety of reasons but that knowledge does not make it easier
when you are the one in trouble. I felt for him but there was nothing I could do to make
him feel better.
The sea conditions were picking up. As we neared the island there was a 10 mt shelf
around the island. The current was running left to right with the swell running right to
left and the wind wave reflecting around the island at a 45 degree angle to confuse
matters. This gave us interesting conditions. The waves were steep and stalling. A wall of
beautiful dark blue water would rear up in front and then a contrasting snow-white
whitecap would suddenly appear. As you power up the wave it slowed and would
engulfed the front of my kayak then you plummet down the steep back and start all over
again.
The wind was steadily building and some of the gusts were quite strong and always in
you face, slowing you down.
Ian had his towrope on the deck so I used his. As the rope caught I checked the GPS and
we were up to 4 km per hour, which gave us just under an hour to go. No problem, just
keep the paddles turning. Ian’s towrope was too big for my cleat and the waves were
steep and nasty. As I would drop off the back of a wave the rope pulling over the wave
would lift out of the cleat and I would miss a stroke reaching back to lock it back in. This
was happening time and again so I decided to use my towline. I pulled Ian in and he
stowed his rope under the deck lines. As I came along side to clip mine on, a steep wave
picked me up and smashed the boats together. My drinking tube was between the boats
and 10 centimeters of line was squashed with such force it spilt both sides.
The tow was going well and Ian was now becoming stronger. I have seen Ian dig deep
before and had every confidence he would bounce back. The drinking tube was now a
problem, as I could not get a drink. Luckily I keep a 1 lt drink bottle in my day hatch just
in case. I have always carried it and this was the first time I needed it. As we approached
the sheltered area of the island I was doing very little towing as Ian was almost keeping
up with me. His green face was slowly turning to white and he even smiled. Considering
how debilitating seasickness is that was a big effort. Tel was rested and Daren picked up
the tow as we had to get around the end of the island into a strong tidal current. I went
off ahead to find the way. At the end of the island I stopped in an eddy. The landing we
wanted was at the end of a race with two rocky spits on either side. I had reconnoitered it
and it appeared not too bad with the middle of the race not braking. Tel came up and
looked all in as the battle with the tide had taken its toll. I showed him the entrance and
he headed off to disappear through the waves at the entrance.
As Daren arrived he said he was also knackered from towing Ian in the tide. The bay and
entrance were no place for towropes as there was the occasional big spilling wave
coming across. The bay was also confused and although the waves were not big they
were very steep and nasty. Ian was picking up so they stowed the rope and followed me to
the entrance. It still looked ok but I waited till they were through just in case. All was
well, as I looked around at the beautiful sloping grassed hills at the back of the race. A
wave picked up the back of the boat forcing me to concentrate as the boat accelerated
into the entrance. Two quick strokes and I was speeding down the face of the wave, with
breaking foam either side of me. At the end of the race I was surprised to see two other
paddlers and as I turned to land next to Tel one of them grabbed the bow of my boat and
pulled it up. 11hours of hard paddling and I was feeling good. I guess it was my turn to
have a strong day.
The two other paddlers were from the NSW sea kayak club. There were 13 of them
staying 2 weeks on at our next destination, Deal Island, 43 km away. They had paddled
over that day and landed half an hour before us. Having never been to Hogan Island they
though it would be a good idea to paddle over and check it out.
The next day it was quite windy in the morning and unfortunately straight into our face.
Oh well we have plenty of time and I was keen to explore the island anyway. The others
were happy to stay over so it was leave the paddling gear and off to explore the island.
The wind had died down and it was a beautiful balmy night. I crawled into my tent feeling
happy with the day. As I started to drift off the sleep I was awoken by a rustling noise
near my head. It took a few seconds to register then I realized there was a rat trying to
get into my tent. I whacked the tent with the back of my hand sending the rat flying.
Content that I had taught it a lesson I relaxed and started to drift off. Oh no, not again.
The rat was back. Hang on there was two no three. I grabbed my torch and opened my
tent. There were rats everywhere. As I shined the torch around, they just ignored me. I
thought rats were supposed to be scared and run away. Not these fellows. They were not
going to let some human stop them getting a meal.
“Pissed off” is an under statement. Dawn was breaking and I was in foul mood as the
rats had kept me awake all night. They even managed to eat two holes in my inner. I was
in the middle of packing when Tel shouted some obscenity. He was standing over his boat
shouting at a rat that had gotten into his boat as he was packing and managed to eat
through one of his dry bags. We were gob smacked at there audacity. They showed no
fear and were still hoping around as we packed in the half-light. I was glad when we
pushed off and left the rats on Hogan Island. Tel was muttering about going back with a
carton of Rat Sack and some peanuts. It is so uncharacteristic for Tel to get mad but the
rats on Hogan managed to do it.
The trip over to Deal was uneventful with a light side wind and light seas. As we neared
Murray Pass I could see the tide ripping through. The NSW guys said it was not too bad
if you hugged the side and worked the eddies. The others were a fair way behind as I
rounded the headland and started into the pass. I slowed down a bit and concentrated on
finding the areas with the lowest tidal influence. The pass has steep rocks on either side
with high hills making it look quite dramatic. The paddling was easier than I expected
and as the others caught up I found myself gazing around at the rock formations. I
stopped in the lee of a small kink in the pass where there was a large rock about 2 mt off
the steep granite sides.
I headed off going through the gap. As I moved through I saw out the side of my eye a
larger than normal wave hit the outside of the rock. Oops bad timing. The wave came
around behind creating quite a suck, slowing me down. As the back of the boat started to
rise, the wash appeared around the front of the rock as a small building wave. Locking
my knees under the braces I paddled hard to gain speed. Suddenly the boat accelerated
forward and the wave behind took control of the boat. The bow dove into the on coming
wave slowing the bow and yawing the boat. Using my legs I lifted the low side of the boat
as the bow broke through the top of the small wave. A small wall of water hit my chest
causing and involuntary grunt and as the wave passed under the boat I accelerated
through the gap. Sensibly the others went around the rock.
Further up the pass we came across a magnificent bay on our right with a similar bay on
out left. On the left hand side the bay had a small jetty and you could see a path up the
steep hill where a small settlement was nestled on a cole with a big hill behind it. On top
of the hill was a light house. I believe it was the highest light house in the southern
hemisphere. The problem was when ever there was storms around the light house was in
the clouds and could not be seen. Someone made a boo-boo as the light house was pretty
useless. Well that’s the story I was told and looking up I could well believe it. We stopped
in the bay on out right for a pee and a swim to refresh ourselves.
As we paddled across the bay to the jetty some of the NSW paddlers came down to meet
us. We wandered up to the house to be treated to wonderful hospitality and refreshments.
Every time I have met the NSW club paddlers they have been very hospitable and really
nice people. This was no exception. Coffee, bread, biscuits - now this was living.
Unfortunately we still have to go to Winter Cove as we wanted to be ready to head off in
the morning weather permitting. They gave us food to take with us and told us we were
welcome back if we stayed on.
The 10 kms to Winter Cove were done at leisurely pace and we were now veering right
into the cove. The cove is funnel shaped with rock either side, and a white sand beach at
the back. The steep hills either side and thick bush made it beautiful cove to paddle into.
The surf was not too big but you could imagine it being very different on a big swell day.
I shouted to the others that I would go in first and film them landing.
As they stayed back I headed in. From out side the break it is very hard to see what surf
is like. As a wave passes under you and you try to see what the waves are like in the
break zone. The 2 seconds on top of the wave is not enough to give you much of a view
and as you come down the back of the wave you just see a green wall head in obliterating
all view of the beach. It seemed ok so as the next wave started to build I leaned forward
and paddled hard. The back of my boat started to rise and I strained to get the heavy boat
moving. As the back lifted the boat accelerated down the front of the wave. The bow dug
in sending a sheet of spray in the air. As the bow came up I was really flying with the
boat bouncing down the front of the wave. The wave slowed to brake and I stopped
paddling so I would not get too far in front. As it crashed behind me I paddled really
hard to pick up as much speed as possible before the wall of white water hit me. I heard
the white water roaring and hissing as it took the back of the boat. Fortunately I had
enough speed and the boat once again accelerated forward allowing me to ride the white
water right into the sand. The bow slid up the sand as I threw my paddle with one hand
and ripped off the spray deck with my other. Both legs out I stood up and quickly grabbed
the front of my boat as the next wave rushed in swing the back around. Pulling 100kg of
boat up the sand is no easy task. Digging my feet into the sand I strained with both hands
on the toggle to move the boat up out of reach of the waves.
I pulled out the video camera just as Ian was coming in. He picked up a wave and shot off
to the side bouncing broach on to the wave. Bracing right and left he stayed in the foam
for a long while making for great footage. Daren next. He missed timed the wave and the
nose dug in and over he went. The wave passed over him and he rolled back up with
enough time to turn and ride the white water in. Just what I needed to make the film more
dramatic? Tel was last and did a textbook landing with no effort. It will be good to show
people the correct way of landing but unfortunately does not look spectacular or difficult.
We camped under some native pine trees in a well used camp site complete with bush
seats and benches made from drift wood. We had just made camp when one of the NSW
paddlers arrived to spend some time having a chat. He also bought us more food.
The next day we had light head winds but as we had to do 65 km we decided to have a
rest day. That afternoon we decided to walk over the island to the NSW paddlers for a
chat. Once again we had great hospitality and they gave us more food. You would never
starve with these people.
This was the big one, the longest crossing of the straight. The forecast was not the best
with a side or quartering head wind. The next few days was forecast to be worse so we
decided to head out for a few kilometers and make our decision from there. I was
wondering how Ian was feeling. Having had trouble on his first ever big crossing and
now facing a bigger crossing must have been playing on his mind. Outwardly he was a
picture of confidence and I know he has a very strong mind. The island was covered in
mist and there was a sea fog on the water. As I headed out from the cove the tide was
making bouncy conditions and the wind did not look good. To my right the cliff line shone
in the early morning light highlighting the magnificent color in the wet rocks as mist
flowed over the top. The whole top of the island was a mass of dirty gray mist swirling
and moving like it was alive. At sea level the sea fog was causing the gray water to meld
with the sky so there was no horizon giving a feeling of moving into an endless gray void.
A few kilometers out we stopped to chat .Everyone was toing and froing. Daren wanted to
go on, Ian was erring on the side of caution and Tel was umming and aring. I was for
going back but we decided to go on a little further. At that stage we were heading for
Wright Rock but as we were going to go around Cape Franklin to Rogan Island we could
head a little more off the wind. I re-set the GPS to Rogan Island and the new heading was
a better angle to the wind. With out sails up we could just get a little bit of help from the
wind but more importantly it was not a head wind any more.
We decided to go for it and as we headed off I was hoping the wind would not turn. The
sea fog and a few spits of rain made for an eerie setting. I felt snug and comfortable in
my boat. It is a funny feeling I get in these condition and I relate it to sitting in my cubby
house as a kid watching the rain and feeling snug… So… normal people don’t kayak
across Bass Straight either.
As the day wore on the weather picked up and the wind dropped off. Everyone seemed in
good spirits and was going easy. I could see Craggy Island in the distance and was
wondering if you could land on it. I had been told by a reliable paddler that you could do
a seal landing on rock shelves on the North West corner. But other articles by paddlers
said it was un-landable. In our risk assessment we had the island as an emergency pull
out point on Julian’s advice so I was interested to see what it was like.
As we approached the N/W corner we could see a big rock and around it some rock
shelves covered in Bull kelp that indeed would be land able. I suspect it would be swell
dependent but on this day we could have landed. We stopped for a break in the lee of the
island where two fishing boats had also stopped. As we headed off we called passed one
of the boats. The skipper advised us that we had better get moving as they were expecting
a strong southerly change. I swore to myself. Just our luck we still had 27 kilometers to
Rogan Island and the wind was swinging and building to a head wind. We now had some
added urgency. Everyone was paddling strong and we could see Flinders Island of on the
horizon. The wind was a slight head wind but at this stage very light. If the southerly did
spring up, and we had seen just how quickly the wind could change at Pt Weshpool, we
would have no choice but to head back to Craggy and try the seal landing.
As we got closer to Flinders the wind was picking up. As we were turning to head for the
Cape the wind was on our stern quarter and the sails and tide were giving us some
assistance. 12 hours after starting I rounded the end of Hogan Island feeling pretty
elated. I think the others were the feeling the same. As I sat on the beach and looked
around I was pretty chuffed. We only had one more obstacle between Tasmania and us.
The infamous Banks Straight.
I woke feeling a little tired and could hear the pitter patter of rain on the tent. My watch
had ceased to work so I had no idea of the time but suspected it was near morning
because I was busting for a pee. Reluctantly I opened the tent and ventured out side. A
cold chill went down my back and I started to shiver. I looked up to see if I could get
some idea of the time but it was inky black so I new we had a lot of cloud cover. The job
done I quickly snuggled into my sleeping bag and lay there listening to the rain and
waiting till morning.
I heard Tel outside and realized I must have dosed of again. At least I didn’t feel that
tired anymore. We were at Trouser Point and as I got out of the tent the Strzelecki Peaks
were shrouded in mist and the morning was dominated with heavy black clouds. Trouser
Point is beautiful place on the southern end of Flinders Island. It was and ideal staging
point for our short crossing to Cape Barron Island. The paddle down Flinders yesterday
was easy and uneventful. We even stopped at Whitemark and had a magnificent counter
lunch at the pub. Today didn’t look as though it would be that easy as dark foreboding
clouds obscured Cape Barron. There was a storm brewing and it was right where we
wanted to be.
It rained while we were packing to make sure that sand stuck to everything as we packed
our boats. We decided to follow the coast around to the east so we would have a better
angle on the wind as we crossed Franklin Sound. The going was hard as the wind was up
around 15 to 20 knots. I stuck to the coastline and had to lean into the wind as it gusted
strongly in gaps or as we ducked around mini headlands. We arrived in a little bay and I
was going to head off into the sound when Ian called out he wanted to follow the coast
some more. The wind was really starting to pick up and I didn’t like paddling into it. I
just wanted to get across the sound. I looked at the map and he was right we really
weren’t far enough around. Muttering to myself I leaned forward and planted the paddle
straining to beat the wind some more.
The next headland gave us a better view of the small islands in the sound. The shore on
the other side of the sound was now visible and the water in between was littered in white
caps. It was going to be a bumpy ride and the wind was side on. I looked around and
everybody had a look of conviction on their face. I pulled the line on my sail and flipped
it up. The sail immediately cracked and started flapping wildly before I could rein it in
with the other sail line. As I pulled it in the boat leaned and started moving. Grabbing my
paddle and counter leaning I had a quick look around then planted my blade in the gray
lumpy water. The boat surged forward and the bow plunged through a small wind wave
soaking me with cold water. It was an exiting ride. The waves were side on but with a
little maneuvering I could still get a ride.
Looking left as the wave built I waited to just the right time. Hard right rudder and lean
left as the boat rode up the wave and the sail took the full force of the wind. The boat
veered right and accelerated down the gray face of the wave. Now it was hard left rudder
and lean into the face. It is exhilarating to have a wall of water 20 cm from your head as
you rush forward at 15 km per hour. Every time my elbow touched the face of the wave a
shot of cold water hit my armpit sending a shiver down my back. As the boat reached the
valley of the wave the trick was to hold speed and line till the wave dissipated. As the
white cap roared and hissed on top of the crest I then veered left looking for the next ride.
This way we could ferry glide against the wind and waves to head down the sound to
Cape St John.
We hit the shore of Cape Barren just before the settlement. The conditions were getting
worse. It was raining heavy and the wind was swinging more to the south than southeast.
It was a mutual spontaneous decision. There was a small white beach and shelter from
the wind. We landed and pulled the boats up. I was freezing. The wind and constant
drenching in cold water had sapped all of my heat. Tel was even quicker; he had warm
dry clothes out of his hatch and was stripping off as fast as possible. I was not far behind
him and to rug up with all my warm clothes was a nice feeling as slowly my temperature
began to rise. I love polatec beanies.
Ever had a scallop pie? I hadn’t, in fact I didn’t know you could get scallop pies until we
went to the shop on Cape Barren. Here Daren introduce us to a Tasmanian delicacy. I
had two pies Darren had 4. Yes that’s right 4 pies and some other food as well. Oh to be
young and able to eat like that and not put on weight. Normally I could stand beside a
scallop pie and put on weight just thinking about it. But hey, we were working hard, so
the pies were a well-earned treat and I was assured they were low fat low cholesterol
pies! Sitting outside the shop it pored down with rain and the trees strained from strong
gusty winds. With my pies warming my belly I felt on top of the world.
Now we had to face Banks Straight. It is not the distance that is the problem as it is only
around 25 kilometers wide. The problem is the 3 knot tides. 3 knots is enough to drag a
paddler way off course and to cause waves to really stand up and create very rough
conditions if you get it wrong. Most people go down to Clark Island and cross from there
as it is only 20 km to Swan Island. We decided to head off from Cape Baron and do a 50
km day. The plan was to pick up the out going tide and use it to suck us down to the
straight and cross on the end of the out going tide and land on Swan Island. Timing was
everything. The forecast was for westerly winds picking up in the afternoon. I was
worried they would tend south and pick up too much slowing us down and leaving us in
the straight on the turn of the tied.
We headed off in high spirits and good weather. As we rounded Cape Barron we could
see the tide starting have an effect. We continued down to Preservation Island and passed
down the east side. At the southern end I looked around to the right and saw the small
eddy line as the tide was picking up. This is the area I thought we would get most of the
tidal influence. Now we were entering the straight and would see if our planning was
right or wrong.
We were now committed as we were about 10 km into the straight. I was hassling Ian a
little to go faster. The wind was picking up and I was still worried it would turn south. I
was using my GPS to stay 3 km west of our cross track error. This automatically gave us
the correct heading so we could counter the tidal drift. The seas were starting to pick up
also. They were not problem for us, but if the wind picks up more and we get caught in a
tide change then life would be dramatically different. Nothing more to do, but keep
paddling.
The closer we got the stronger the wind was getting. At about 7 km from the island the
waves were 1 to 2 mt with the occasional big set coming through. I could see Ian in front
of me as a big set approached it was starting to build as Ian disappeared down the back.
A smaller wave reared on my beam causing me to lean in and widen my stroke as the
crest passed under me dragging my stern around a little. Left rudder, as I dipped over the
back of the wave. I bottomed out in the trough on the correct heading and started to gain
height on the next wave. I looked around for the big set and saw it braking off to my left.
It’s then I saw Darren’s head and upper body appeared dripping wet and he had a
stunned look on his face. I paddled over and he shouted “did you see that”. “It broke
right on top of me”. Now he was grinning and laughing. I laughed with him as it did look
funny the way he appeared like a submarine surfacing.
The wind had been slowly shifting south so I decided to change direction and make
straight for the northern tip of Swan Island. This gave us a better angle to the wind and
would get us into the lee of the island as quickly as possible. There was no argument form
the others so I assume they were thinking the same thing. As we neared the light house at
the end of the island the waves were being forced around the tip of the island making for
steep and messy seas. I was glad when we finally rounded the end of the island and now
had to battle a head wind to reach the sheltered bay.
I was now very happy as we had beaten the Bass. A good 5o km day under our belt and
we could see Tasmania about 4 kms away. As I looked across Banks Straight I was very
glad to be on the Island. We landed about 1 hour before tide change, which was perfect
timing for us. Now the tide had changed and the water at the end of the island had been
churned into sea of white. The waves were not that big but it would not be a nice place to
paddle as you would be pounded constantly. It is easy to see why Banks Straight has a
fearsome reputation. In fact the whole Bass Straight crossing is an exercise in weather
prediction and planning. Get it right and it is not a bad paddle, providing you have the
fitness and skill. Get it wrong and you are in big trouble.
We had planned to do another tide assisted 50 km day. We would cross from Swan Island
to the mainland just on the turn of the tied then take the ebbing tied and follow the coast
to Eddistone point. Half way to the main land I thought we needed to change direction. I
shouted to Darren and Ian the change and was surprised to get some negative feed back.
My response was to get angry and mutter under my breath and to Tel. It was not till after
we landed I stated to think the problem through. We had finished the tough stuff where
we needed a leader to make decisions. On the crossings I strongly believe one person has
to accept that roll. But now we were wandering along the coast and I had all very
experienced people with me. Hm maybe I was over reacting and should back off. It is
hard for me to take the back seat but I made up my mined I would try. Having sorted out
the worlds problems I enjoyed seeing Northern Tasmania for the first time.
At Eddistone Pt we met Ray from Something Wild and Dan who is making a documentary
on the Tasmanian devil. The trip was also to raise awareness for the Devil Facial Tumor
Decease that is decimating the Devil population. Ray and Leanne run the Devils in
Danger program and were supporting us with media liaisons. They suggested we camp at
Policeman’s Point and told us they had dinner for us.
At Policeman’s Point we were stunned when Ray produced steaks that filled a fry pan.
After no fresh meat for two weeks this was a real treat. The camp site was just up from
the beach and in an open area surrounded by coastal heath. A few cold beers, huge
steaks and good conversation were not what we had envisaged to happen at Eddistone.
Not that we were complaining though.
The last few days paddling along the northern coast were easy and enjoyable. We did
have a few moments of interest though. One of the locals said to us “if you don’t like the
weather in Tasmania wait 5 minuets”. Well it’s true. We were heading along with a 20 to
25 knot side wind that was just plain irritating when we stopped for a pee. By the time it
tool for us to pee the wind stopped. No, not slowed down, stopped. I have never seen the
wind stop so fast. In fact I have never had forecasts like you get in Tasmania before. This
was one forecast. 15 to 25 knot S/W winds in the morning backing N/E later. Waves 2 to
4 meters with swell confused. Result ….. paddler confused. In fact for most of the trip the
swell was forecast as confused and they were right. Two swells would come from the
right and the next swell would be from the left. One of the things that make Bass Straight
so formidable is the fact that the area is affected by 3 weather systems, two currents and
reasonable tidal influence. Thus the confused swells and paddlers.
We were now heading out of Bicheno where we had a rest day. Darren didn’t want to
stop but the rest of us did. It was a great day of doing nothing and wandering the town.
The forecast was not good as were expecting strong head winds. The aim was to each
Wineglass Bay but it did not look good. As we passed Governor Island and the point one
of the fishermen told us to be careful as it was very rough of the headlands. Once past the
point the full force of the wind hit us. We were doing ok with a reasonable headway of 4
km per hour but I expected the wind to increase. Cape Lodi was in the distance and I
made a mental not to re-evaluate the situation there.
This wind was picking up slightly as we neared the point. Walls of dark green water were
lined up and heading straight for me. The bow of my boat suddenly dipped and as the
bow went under water rushed up and hit me in the face. The boat glided down the back of
the wave only to nearly stall so I leaned forwarded paddling hard to get up the face of the
next green wall. As well as the continuous green walls we were now getting rebound off
the cliff. The waves would hit the cliff and reflect back out at the same angle they hit the
cliff at. So as you struggled with wind and waves coming straight at you, smaller waves
were constantly hitting you from the side. This had the tendency to throw the boat up as
they passed under you and it is easy to miss a stroke as the water disappears beside the
boat. I felt at one point I was going up and down more than I was going forward. In these
conditions it is also hard to maintain a good paddle rhythm as every stroke you are
looking for the sweet spot on the water.
We had looked at a couple of beaches to land on but their were rocks on one and on the
other the surf although land able now, may not be good for launching the next day, so we
headed for Friendly Point. As we were approaching the point we had been on the water 5
hours and the wind was picking up. We had another 15 km to go to Wineglass Bay and if
the wind picked up to the forecast 25 knots we would cease forward headway. Even it
didn’t pick up we were looking at leased another 5 hours hard paddling. As we had
plenty of time I decided I would not go on. I discussed this with Ian and Tell who agreed
it was pointless to go on. Darren came up and when I said we were landing for the day
was pissed off. He wanted to push on. When we landed Darren was in a huff and took a
lift into Coles Bay with a tourist. I was worried at what impact this might have on group
dynamics. It was becoming clear that Tel, Ian and I saw things differently to Darren.
That night Darren arrived back after a 3 hour run walk back from Coles Bay. He
apologized for getting in a huff and running off, so problem averted, for now. It is always
difficult to get group dynamics to work for month long trips. Especially where 3 people
are very similar in how they think and one is not. This means aims and outcomes for both
groups would be slightly different. When you live with people 24 hours a day everyone is
going to have a bad hair day. Even Tel who is almost bald! I was still confident that it
would work out ok and went to bed happy.
Freycinet Peninsular was great with cliff line and sea caves. The little bays were
beautiful and last nights camp on Schouten Island spectacular. Today was looking good.
Although a 30 knot wind was forecast it was at last a following wind. We had a 40 km
crossing to Maria Island to do and I was looking forward to hoisting my sail surfing a
following sea. We had very few days where we could sail and surf a following sea so this
was a rear opportunity. I did want to get going and hopefully land before we got the 30
knots that were predicted. By now breaking camp was a well oiled process and as we
rounded Schouten we came past two fishing boats. The captain reminded us of the 30
knot forecast; obviously concerned for our safety. The wind was still moderate but
picking up.
White rock was in front of us and we were going to take a break there as it was half way
to Maria Island. I was having a ball. Idling along I waited till the wave started to build
behind me. Then it was 4 hard strokes as the third wave in the set started build behind
me. Yahoo I was on and the boat rocketed forwarded at around 20 plus kilometers per
hour. Water sheeted of the bow up to 2 mt high. The boat bounced, lurched and bumped
down the face of the wave then the next wave was in front of me. With the sail and a 100
kg boat I punched straight through the top. A huge spray hit me in the face and on the
boat raced. Tipping forwarded and angling left the boat raced down the face of the
second weave. Leaning left and hard right rudder I forced the boat to the right so I was
at 90 degrease to the face of the wave. Up and over the third wave. This time I was nearly
airborne. Smack back down and slowly slowing back to normal pace. My hart was racing
as I looked left and right for my next exhilarating ride. I love down wind sailing.
We rounded the left side of the rock to be in the lee for a rest. As we rounded the rock
cliff a cave entrance was visible in the small indent. As we paddled over we were awe
struck. The cave was enormous. It was the biggest cave we had ever seen. The rook was
at least 20 mt high and at the back of the cave was a small hole that on low tide you
could paddle through the whole rock. The colors inside were also amazing with green
hues on black and brown rock. We stayed as long as we could but had to eventually push
on to Maria Island.
Maria Island was an old penal colony and has old buildings that have been restored and
could be rented as a type of back packers' accommodation. We were given free camping
in the camp ground by the Ranger for raising awareness for the Devils. They even gave
us a tour of the breeding facility there. I was very impressed by the ranger who showed
us around. He was one of those people who believed in and loved his job. Today was
typical Tazy weather. Thunder storms, lightning, poring rain in the morning and blue
skies and sunshine in the afternoon. There were no rats on Maria Island just Possums
and drunken campers. I must admit I prefer isolated camping to camp grounds but Maria
Island was worth visiting.
We met a fellow paddler as we arrived on Maria Island. Unfortunately he was very new
and inexperienced and was not equipped for a 10 kilometer solo crossing. The weather
has put the wind up him, (excuse the pun), so we told him we would help him get back to
the mainland. The morning was very calm with some light winds so we headed off with
our new friend and escorted him to within a few kilometers of the mainland before
turning left and heading south. There were back cliffs with heaps of caves so progress
was slow and we explored the caves. I love the Tasmanian coast as it has great caves and
rock gardens to play in.
We had a lot of media exposure on the trip with TV radio and newspaper interviews
about the trip and the Devils. We were finding that every where we went people would
ask if we were the Devil Paddlers. We pulled into a small beach near Lauderdale and
were met by a young couple on the beach. They informed us they lived just up the road
and we could camp on their lawn and that they would have a BBQ that night for us. We
had just spoken to Something Wild who told us that a near by caravan park had a cabin
we could stay in for free. The hospitality was amazing. I mean how often do you get two
free offers of accommodation at the same time? We ended up staying with the young
couple and had a wonderful BBQ and great conversation.
Well like all good things the trip had to come to and end. We were now paddling up the
Derwint River just past Hobart and was heading for a little bay with a restaurant and
welcoming party. As we approached the crowed gave us three cheers and clapped. This
was wonderful as we were not expecting a crowd of people. There were TV cameras,
interviews and I really felt like a celebrity. OK Ok I know I am not a celebrity but it still
felt good to have al these strangers come and meet us. Most of my trips end in a remote
place with nobody there and as you drive home people you meet have know idea what
you have just done. This time it was different, and I was enjoying the moment.
To top the trip off, we went and stayed at Something Wild sanctuary. They showed us
around and more importantly showed us the injury free devil breeding program they
pioneered. I was so impressed that I have now taken on the task of raising money to build
a new breeding habitat.
In fact I would like to thank Something Wild for all their hospitality and help.
Les Allen
Ever had that sinking feeling in your stomach? I think we all have at some point and
today as the wind buffeted me that feeling was growing. It was suppose to be the start of
the Bass Straight crossing but I knew that it was not going to happen as the wind was
now a steady 20 knots, gusting to 30 and forecasted to go to gale force. After all the build
up, not starting was a blow. We had planned for bad weather days but this was different.
I was nervous about taking on the Bass and stalling at the start was not helping. We had
planned to paddle across the bay and camp before the wind really picked up and couldn’t
even manage that. The feeling of disappointment melded with frustration and nervousness
was greater than it should have been. I was feeling this way because the greatest fear is
the fear of the unknown. Also we had an old lady telling us we were going to die,
explaining how the last paddler to cross Bass Straight left his car at her place and was
lucky to be rescued by a helicopter 3 days later. She told us in great detail how the
helicopter was looking for another missing boat when it came across the up turned
paddler. It was just luck he didn’t die. I needed to get started so I could settle into trip
mode.
The afternoon was atrocious with howling wind and sheeting rain. I was coming back
from the shop where we bought lunch and had to shelter in a tourist information shelter
as the rain and wind was so strong. I chuckled to myself as I had thermals, polatec jacket,
gortex jacket, over pants and beanie on and this was 1st of January. What must winter be
like! But more importantly what will the Bass be like. The bay was littered with white
caps and 6m waves were forecast. I was very glad I was on dry land and could not help
but wonder what lay in store for us.
This time the wind was a lot better and packing the boat felt good. On reflection though,
the 3 days in Port Welshpool weren’t that bad. We stayed at the Pt Welshpool Caravan
Park right in town. They are not a proper park as they have chalets instead of caravan
bays, but the owners accommodated us and gave us brilliant hospitality. I can strongly
recommend them to any paddlers setting off from there. One of the older residents took us
for a drive around the area and told us all the history which filled in one day and was
quite interesting. The night before we left it was drinks around the campers' shelter and
even though it was 6.30 in the morning some of the residents were down on the beach
with us giving us a farewell. The packing finished we headed off across the bay with
Refuge Cove our destination 42 kilometers away.
Pt Welshpool is in a large estuary with green undulating hills and a wind farm behind it.
To our left was some islands and low scrubby country. To our right the sky line was
dominated with the mountainous hills of Wilson’s Prom. I had settled into paddling with
a good rhythm and was happy to finally be on our way. The current at the mouth of the
estuary was really pumping and we were cruising along at 10 km per hour without
working. As we rounded the entrance and looked up the coast to Wilson’s Prom I was
relieved to see the swells were not too bad. One of the Sydney to Hobart yachts was
coming home and had been rolled last night by huge waves in the straight and there was
a full scale rescue with helicopters and a coastal freighter trying to pick up 5 people. At
least the conditions today would help them and make out paddle up the coast easy.
Day 1 was going well with light seas and a light head wind. Sealers Cove looked
beautiful and we were enjoying the rocky cliff line as we turned into Refuge Cove.
What a magnificent sight. A kidney shaped cove with two beaches and thick forest ruining
down to smooth rocks and perfect white sand. To make the picture, a beautiful yacht lay
at anchor. As I paddled in I had a good feeling about the trip.
I woke feeling excited as today was the first crossing. 50 kilometers was not a great
distance and the weather was forecast to be a 10 to 15 knot side wind. The others looked
happy with the day and were going about the business of packing as all around us hills
were starting to form in the first half light of dawn. My nervousness and frustration at Pt
Weshpool was gone and to quote Tel “I was feeling strong like Russia” and confident. I
like that snug warm feeling when you first get in your kayak for a long day and as you
head off the boat melds with your body and becomes an extension of your legs as you
glide over the waves feeling the rhythm of the sea. As the dawn broke I looked around at
clear blue water hearing the soft wash and dip of the paddle as the hull split the crystal
clear water. Behind me Wilson’s Prom looked dark and foreboding as but I was feeling
jubilant to finally be taking on Bass Straight.
10 hours into the day and Ian was really struggling. The side wind was a straight head
wind at about 12 to 15 knots with stronger gusts. We had been pushing into the wind for
a few hours now and our speed was progressively getting slower. With 4 kilometer to go
we ceased making head way and Ian was sea sick He looked shocking as he struggled to
paddle and spew over the side of the boat. Tel was also struggling. He had enough fuel to
make the island but need to get there soon. As Tel and Darren headed off, Ian declared
he was knackered. Nothing left but to pull out the tow rope and put in some work. I was
feeling strong and new we were going to make it ok but one look at Ian and I knew how
bad he was feeling. I had told him before that on trips everyone has bad days and if you
do enough trips one day you will need your mates to give you a hand. All of us at some
time have needed help for a variety of reasons but that knowledge does not make it easier
when you are the one in trouble. I felt for him but there was nothing I could do to make
him feel better.
The sea conditions were picking up. As we neared the island there was a 10 mt shelf
around the island. The current was running left to right with the swell running right to
left and the wind wave reflecting around the island at a 45 degree angle to confuse
matters. This gave us interesting conditions. The waves were steep and stalling. A wall of
beautiful dark blue water would rear up in front and then a contrasting snow-white
whitecap would suddenly appear. As you power up the wave it slowed and would
engulfed the front of my kayak then you plummet down the steep back and start all over
again.
The wind was steadily building and some of the gusts were quite strong and always in
you face, slowing you down.
Ian had his towrope on the deck so I used his. As the rope caught I checked the GPS and
we were up to 4 km per hour, which gave us just under an hour to go. No problem, just
keep the paddles turning. Ian’s towrope was too big for my cleat and the waves were
steep and nasty. As I would drop off the back of a wave the rope pulling over the wave
would lift out of the cleat and I would miss a stroke reaching back to lock it back in. This
was happening time and again so I decided to use my towline. I pulled Ian in and he
stowed his rope under the deck lines. As I came along side to clip mine on, a steep wave
picked me up and smashed the boats together. My drinking tube was between the boats
and 10 centimeters of line was squashed with such force it spilt both sides.
The tow was going well and Ian was now becoming stronger. I have seen Ian dig deep
before and had every confidence he would bounce back. The drinking tube was now a
problem, as I could not get a drink. Luckily I keep a 1 lt drink bottle in my day hatch just
in case. I have always carried it and this was the first time I needed it. As we approached
the sheltered area of the island I was doing very little towing as Ian was almost keeping
up with me. His green face was slowly turning to white and he even smiled. Considering
how debilitating seasickness is that was a big effort. Tel was rested and Daren picked up
the tow as we had to get around the end of the island into a strong tidal current. I went
off ahead to find the way. At the end of the island I stopped in an eddy. The landing we
wanted was at the end of a race with two rocky spits on either side. I had reconnoitered it
and it appeared not too bad with the middle of the race not braking. Tel came up and
looked all in as the battle with the tide had taken its toll. I showed him the entrance and
he headed off to disappear through the waves at the entrance.
As Daren arrived he said he was also knackered from towing Ian in the tide. The bay and
entrance were no place for towropes as there was the occasional big spilling wave
coming across. The bay was also confused and although the waves were not big they
were very steep and nasty. Ian was picking up so they stowed the rope and followed me to
the entrance. It still looked ok but I waited till they were through just in case. All was
well, as I looked around at the beautiful sloping grassed hills at the back of the race. A
wave picked up the back of the boat forcing me to concentrate as the boat accelerated
into the entrance. Two quick strokes and I was speeding down the face of the wave, with
breaking foam either side of me. At the end of the race I was surprised to see two other
paddlers and as I turned to land next to Tel one of them grabbed the bow of my boat and
pulled it up. 11hours of hard paddling and I was feeling good. I guess it was my turn to
have a strong day.
The two other paddlers were from the NSW sea kayak club. There were 13 of them
staying 2 weeks on at our next destination, Deal Island, 43 km away. They had paddled
over that day and landed half an hour before us. Having never been to Hogan Island they
though it would be a good idea to paddle over and check it out.
The next day it was quite windy in the morning and unfortunately straight into our face.
Oh well we have plenty of time and I was keen to explore the island anyway. The others
were happy to stay over so it was leave the paddling gear and off to explore the island.
The wind had died down and it was a beautiful balmy night. I crawled into my tent feeling
happy with the day. As I started to drift off the sleep I was awoken by a rustling noise
near my head. It took a few seconds to register then I realized there was a rat trying to
get into my tent. I whacked the tent with the back of my hand sending the rat flying.
Content that I had taught it a lesson I relaxed and started to drift off. Oh no, not again.
The rat was back. Hang on there was two no three. I grabbed my torch and opened my
tent. There were rats everywhere. As I shined the torch around, they just ignored me. I
thought rats were supposed to be scared and run away. Not these fellows. They were not
going to let some human stop them getting a meal.
“Pissed off” is an under statement. Dawn was breaking and I was in foul mood as the
rats had kept me awake all night. They even managed to eat two holes in my inner. I was
in the middle of packing when Tel shouted some obscenity. He was standing over his boat
shouting at a rat that had gotten into his boat as he was packing and managed to eat
through one of his dry bags. We were gob smacked at there audacity. They showed no
fear and were still hoping around as we packed in the half-light. I was glad when we
pushed off and left the rats on Hogan Island. Tel was muttering about going back with a
carton of Rat Sack and some peanuts. It is so uncharacteristic for Tel to get mad but the
rats on Hogan managed to do it.
The trip over to Deal was uneventful with a light side wind and light seas. As we neared
Murray Pass I could see the tide ripping through. The NSW guys said it was not too bad
if you hugged the side and worked the eddies. The others were a fair way behind as I
rounded the headland and started into the pass. I slowed down a bit and concentrated on
finding the areas with the lowest tidal influence. The pass has steep rocks on either side
with high hills making it look quite dramatic. The paddling was easier than I expected
and as the others caught up I found myself gazing around at the rock formations. I
stopped in the lee of a small kink in the pass where there was a large rock about 2 mt off
the steep granite sides.
I headed off going through the gap. As I moved through I saw out the side of my eye a
larger than normal wave hit the outside of the rock. Oops bad timing. The wave came
around behind creating quite a suck, slowing me down. As the back of the boat started to
rise, the wash appeared around the front of the rock as a small building wave. Locking
my knees under the braces I paddled hard to gain speed. Suddenly the boat accelerated
forward and the wave behind took control of the boat. The bow dove into the on coming
wave slowing the bow and yawing the boat. Using my legs I lifted the low side of the boat
as the bow broke through the top of the small wave. A small wall of water hit my chest
causing and involuntary grunt and as the wave passed under the boat I accelerated
through the gap. Sensibly the others went around the rock.
Further up the pass we came across a magnificent bay on our right with a similar bay on
out left. On the left hand side the bay had a small jetty and you could see a path up the
steep hill where a small settlement was nestled on a cole with a big hill behind it. On top
of the hill was a light house. I believe it was the highest light house in the southern
hemisphere. The problem was when ever there was storms around the light house was in
the clouds and could not be seen. Someone made a boo-boo as the light house was pretty
useless. Well that’s the story I was told and looking up I could well believe it. We stopped
in the bay on out right for a pee and a swim to refresh ourselves.
As we paddled across the bay to the jetty some of the NSW paddlers came down to meet
us. We wandered up to the house to be treated to wonderful hospitality and refreshments.
Every time I have met the NSW club paddlers they have been very hospitable and really
nice people. This was no exception. Coffee, bread, biscuits - now this was living.
Unfortunately we still have to go to Winter Cove as we wanted to be ready to head off in
the morning weather permitting. They gave us food to take with us and told us we were
welcome back if we stayed on.
The 10 kms to Winter Cove were done at leisurely pace and we were now veering right
into the cove. The cove is funnel shaped with rock either side, and a white sand beach at
the back. The steep hills either side and thick bush made it beautiful cove to paddle into.
The surf was not too big but you could imagine it being very different on a big swell day.
I shouted to the others that I would go in first and film them landing.
As they stayed back I headed in. From out side the break it is very hard to see what surf
is like. As a wave passes under you and you try to see what the waves are like in the
break zone. The 2 seconds on top of the wave is not enough to give you much of a view
and as you come down the back of the wave you just see a green wall head in obliterating
all view of the beach. It seemed ok so as the next wave started to build I leaned forward
and paddled hard. The back of my boat started to rise and I strained to get the heavy boat
moving. As the back lifted the boat accelerated down the front of the wave. The bow dug
in sending a sheet of spray in the air. As the bow came up I was really flying with the
boat bouncing down the front of the wave. The wave slowed to brake and I stopped
paddling so I would not get too far in front. As it crashed behind me I paddled really
hard to pick up as much speed as possible before the wall of white water hit me. I heard
the white water roaring and hissing as it took the back of the boat. Fortunately I had
enough speed and the boat once again accelerated forward allowing me to ride the white
water right into the sand. The bow slid up the sand as I threw my paddle with one hand
and ripped off the spray deck with my other. Both legs out I stood up and quickly grabbed
the front of my boat as the next wave rushed in swing the back around. Pulling 100kg of
boat up the sand is no easy task. Digging my feet into the sand I strained with both hands
on the toggle to move the boat up out of reach of the waves.
I pulled out the video camera just as Ian was coming in. He picked up a wave and shot off
to the side bouncing broach on to the wave. Bracing right and left he stayed in the foam
for a long while making for great footage. Daren next. He missed timed the wave and the
nose dug in and over he went. The wave passed over him and he rolled back up with
enough time to turn and ride the white water in. Just what I needed to make the film more
dramatic? Tel was last and did a textbook landing with no effort. It will be good to show
people the correct way of landing but unfortunately does not look spectacular or difficult.
We camped under some native pine trees in a well used camp site complete with bush
seats and benches made from drift wood. We had just made camp when one of the NSW
paddlers arrived to spend some time having a chat. He also bought us more food.
The next day we had light head winds but as we had to do 65 km we decided to have a
rest day. That afternoon we decided to walk over the island to the NSW paddlers for a
chat. Once again we had great hospitality and they gave us more food. You would never
starve with these people.
This was the big one, the longest crossing of the straight. The forecast was not the best
with a side or quartering head wind. The next few days was forecast to be worse so we
decided to head out for a few kilometers and make our decision from there. I was
wondering how Ian was feeling. Having had trouble on his first ever big crossing and
now facing a bigger crossing must have been playing on his mind. Outwardly he was a
picture of confidence and I know he has a very strong mind. The island was covered in
mist and there was a sea fog on the water. As I headed out from the cove the tide was
making bouncy conditions and the wind did not look good. To my right the cliff line shone
in the early morning light highlighting the magnificent color in the wet rocks as mist
flowed over the top. The whole top of the island was a mass of dirty gray mist swirling
and moving like it was alive. At sea level the sea fog was causing the gray water to meld
with the sky so there was no horizon giving a feeling of moving into an endless gray void.
A few kilometers out we stopped to chat .Everyone was toing and froing. Daren wanted to
go on, Ian was erring on the side of caution and Tel was umming and aring. I was for
going back but we decided to go on a little further. At that stage we were heading for
Wright Rock but as we were going to go around Cape Franklin to Rogan Island we could
head a little more off the wind. I re-set the GPS to Rogan Island and the new heading was
a better angle to the wind. With out sails up we could just get a little bit of help from the
wind but more importantly it was not a head wind any more.
We decided to go for it and as we headed off I was hoping the wind would not turn. The
sea fog and a few spits of rain made for an eerie setting. I felt snug and comfortable in
my boat. It is a funny feeling I get in these condition and I relate it to sitting in my cubby
house as a kid watching the rain and feeling snug… So… normal people don’t kayak
across Bass Straight either.
As the day wore on the weather picked up and the wind dropped off. Everyone seemed in
good spirits and was going easy. I could see Craggy Island in the distance and was
wondering if you could land on it. I had been told by a reliable paddler that you could do
a seal landing on rock shelves on the North West corner. But other articles by paddlers
said it was un-landable. In our risk assessment we had the island as an emergency pull
out point on Julian’s advice so I was interested to see what it was like.
As we approached the N/W corner we could see a big rock and around it some rock
shelves covered in Bull kelp that indeed would be land able. I suspect it would be swell
dependent but on this day we could have landed. We stopped for a break in the lee of the
island where two fishing boats had also stopped. As we headed off we called passed one
of the boats. The skipper advised us that we had better get moving as they were expecting
a strong southerly change. I swore to myself. Just our luck we still had 27 kilometers to
Rogan Island and the wind was swinging and building to a head wind. We now had some
added urgency. Everyone was paddling strong and we could see Flinders Island of on the
horizon. The wind was a slight head wind but at this stage very light. If the southerly did
spring up, and we had seen just how quickly the wind could change at Pt Weshpool, we
would have no choice but to head back to Craggy and try the seal landing.
As we got closer to Flinders the wind was picking up. As we were turning to head for the
Cape the wind was on our stern quarter and the sails and tide were giving us some
assistance. 12 hours after starting I rounded the end of Hogan Island feeling pretty
elated. I think the others were the feeling the same. As I sat on the beach and looked
around I was pretty chuffed. We only had one more obstacle between Tasmania and us.
The infamous Banks Straight.
I woke feeling a little tired and could hear the pitter patter of rain on the tent. My watch
had ceased to work so I had no idea of the time but suspected it was near morning
because I was busting for a pee. Reluctantly I opened the tent and ventured out side. A
cold chill went down my back and I started to shiver. I looked up to see if I could get
some idea of the time but it was inky black so I new we had a lot of cloud cover. The job
done I quickly snuggled into my sleeping bag and lay there listening to the rain and
waiting till morning.
I heard Tel outside and realized I must have dosed of again. At least I didn’t feel that
tired anymore. We were at Trouser Point and as I got out of the tent the Strzelecki Peaks
were shrouded in mist and the morning was dominated with heavy black clouds. Trouser
Point is beautiful place on the southern end of Flinders Island. It was and ideal staging
point for our short crossing to Cape Barron Island. The paddle down Flinders yesterday
was easy and uneventful. We even stopped at Whitemark and had a magnificent counter
lunch at the pub. Today didn’t look as though it would be that easy as dark foreboding
clouds obscured Cape Barron. There was a storm brewing and it was right where we
wanted to be.
It rained while we were packing to make sure that sand stuck to everything as we packed
our boats. We decided to follow the coast around to the east so we would have a better
angle on the wind as we crossed Franklin Sound. The going was hard as the wind was up
around 15 to 20 knots. I stuck to the coastline and had to lean into the wind as it gusted
strongly in gaps or as we ducked around mini headlands. We arrived in a little bay and I
was going to head off into the sound when Ian called out he wanted to follow the coast
some more. The wind was really starting to pick up and I didn’t like paddling into it. I
just wanted to get across the sound. I looked at the map and he was right we really
weren’t far enough around. Muttering to myself I leaned forward and planted the paddle
straining to beat the wind some more.
The next headland gave us a better view of the small islands in the sound. The shore on
the other side of the sound was now visible and the water in between was littered in white
caps. It was going to be a bumpy ride and the wind was side on. I looked around and
everybody had a look of conviction on their face. I pulled the line on my sail and flipped
it up. The sail immediately cracked and started flapping wildly before I could rein it in
with the other sail line. As I pulled it in the boat leaned and started moving. Grabbing my
paddle and counter leaning I had a quick look around then planted my blade in the gray
lumpy water. The boat surged forward and the bow plunged through a small wind wave
soaking me with cold water. It was an exiting ride. The waves were side on but with a
little maneuvering I could still get a ride.
Looking left as the wave built I waited to just the right time. Hard right rudder and lean
left as the boat rode up the wave and the sail took the full force of the wind. The boat
veered right and accelerated down the gray face of the wave. Now it was hard left rudder
and lean into the face. It is exhilarating to have a wall of water 20 cm from your head as
you rush forward at 15 km per hour. Every time my elbow touched the face of the wave a
shot of cold water hit my armpit sending a shiver down my back. As the boat reached the
valley of the wave the trick was to hold speed and line till the wave dissipated. As the
white cap roared and hissed on top of the crest I then veered left looking for the next ride.
This way we could ferry glide against the wind and waves to head down the sound to
Cape St John.
We hit the shore of Cape Barren just before the settlement. The conditions were getting
worse. It was raining heavy and the wind was swinging more to the south than southeast.
It was a mutual spontaneous decision. There was a small white beach and shelter from
the wind. We landed and pulled the boats up. I was freezing. The wind and constant
drenching in cold water had sapped all of my heat. Tel was even quicker; he had warm
dry clothes out of his hatch and was stripping off as fast as possible. I was not far behind
him and to rug up with all my warm clothes was a nice feeling as slowly my temperature
began to rise. I love polatec beanies.
Ever had a scallop pie? I hadn’t, in fact I didn’t know you could get scallop pies until we
went to the shop on Cape Barren. Here Daren introduce us to a Tasmanian delicacy. I
had two pies Darren had 4. Yes that’s right 4 pies and some other food as well. Oh to be
young and able to eat like that and not put on weight. Normally I could stand beside a
scallop pie and put on weight just thinking about it. But hey, we were working hard, so
the pies were a well-earned treat and I was assured they were low fat low cholesterol
pies! Sitting outside the shop it pored down with rain and the trees strained from strong
gusty winds. With my pies warming my belly I felt on top of the world.
Now we had to face Banks Straight. It is not the distance that is the problem as it is only
around 25 kilometers wide. The problem is the 3 knot tides. 3 knots is enough to drag a
paddler way off course and to cause waves to really stand up and create very rough
conditions if you get it wrong. Most people go down to Clark Island and cross from there
as it is only 20 km to Swan Island. We decided to head off from Cape Baron and do a 50
km day. The plan was to pick up the out going tide and use it to suck us down to the
straight and cross on the end of the out going tide and land on Swan Island. Timing was
everything. The forecast was for westerly winds picking up in the afternoon. I was
worried they would tend south and pick up too much slowing us down and leaving us in
the straight on the turn of the tied.
We headed off in high spirits and good weather. As we rounded Cape Barron we could
see the tide starting have an effect. We continued down to Preservation Island and passed
down the east side. At the southern end I looked around to the right and saw the small
eddy line as the tide was picking up. This is the area I thought we would get most of the
tidal influence. Now we were entering the straight and would see if our planning was
right or wrong.
We were now committed as we were about 10 km into the straight. I was hassling Ian a
little to go faster. The wind was picking up and I was still worried it would turn south. I
was using my GPS to stay 3 km west of our cross track error. This automatically gave us
the correct heading so we could counter the tidal drift. The seas were starting to pick up
also. They were not problem for us, but if the wind picks up more and we get caught in a
tide change then life would be dramatically different. Nothing more to do, but keep
paddling.
The closer we got the stronger the wind was getting. At about 7 km from the island the
waves were 1 to 2 mt with the occasional big set coming through. I could see Ian in front
of me as a big set approached it was starting to build as Ian disappeared down the back.
A smaller wave reared on my beam causing me to lean in and widen my stroke as the
crest passed under me dragging my stern around a little. Left rudder, as I dipped over the
back of the wave. I bottomed out in the trough on the correct heading and started to gain
height on the next wave. I looked around for the big set and saw it braking off to my left.
It’s then I saw Darren’s head and upper body appeared dripping wet and he had a
stunned look on his face. I paddled over and he shouted “did you see that”. “It broke
right on top of me”. Now he was grinning and laughing. I laughed with him as it did look
funny the way he appeared like a submarine surfacing.
The wind had been slowly shifting south so I decided to change direction and make
straight for the northern tip of Swan Island. This gave us a better angle to the wind and
would get us into the lee of the island as quickly as possible. There was no argument form
the others so I assume they were thinking the same thing. As we neared the light house at
the end of the island the waves were being forced around the tip of the island making for
steep and messy seas. I was glad when we finally rounded the end of the island and now
had to battle a head wind to reach the sheltered bay.
I was now very happy as we had beaten the Bass. A good 5o km day under our belt and
we could see Tasmania about 4 kms away. As I looked across Banks Straight I was very
glad to be on the Island. We landed about 1 hour before tide change, which was perfect
timing for us. Now the tide had changed and the water at the end of the island had been
churned into sea of white. The waves were not that big but it would not be a nice place to
paddle as you would be pounded constantly. It is easy to see why Banks Straight has a
fearsome reputation. In fact the whole Bass Straight crossing is an exercise in weather
prediction and planning. Get it right and it is not a bad paddle, providing you have the
fitness and skill. Get it wrong and you are in big trouble.
We had planned to do another tide assisted 50 km day. We would cross from Swan Island
to the mainland just on the turn of the tied then take the ebbing tied and follow the coast
to Eddistone point. Half way to the main land I thought we needed to change direction. I
shouted to Darren and Ian the change and was surprised to get some negative feed back.
My response was to get angry and mutter under my breath and to Tel. It was not till after
we landed I stated to think the problem through. We had finished the tough stuff where
we needed a leader to make decisions. On the crossings I strongly believe one person has
to accept that roll. But now we were wandering along the coast and I had all very
experienced people with me. Hm maybe I was over reacting and should back off. It is
hard for me to take the back seat but I made up my mined I would try. Having sorted out
the worlds problems I enjoyed seeing Northern Tasmania for the first time.
At Eddistone Pt we met Ray from Something Wild and Dan who is making a documentary
on the Tasmanian devil. The trip was also to raise awareness for the Devil Facial Tumor
Decease that is decimating the Devil population. Ray and Leanne run the Devils in
Danger program and were supporting us with media liaisons. They suggested we camp at
Policeman’s Point and told us they had dinner for us.
At Policeman’s Point we were stunned when Ray produced steaks that filled a fry pan.
After no fresh meat for two weeks this was a real treat. The camp site was just up from
the beach and in an open area surrounded by coastal heath. A few cold beers, huge
steaks and good conversation were not what we had envisaged to happen at Eddistone.
Not that we were complaining though.
The last few days paddling along the northern coast were easy and enjoyable. We did
have a few moments of interest though. One of the locals said to us “if you don’t like the
weather in Tasmania wait 5 minuets”. Well it’s true. We were heading along with a 20 to
25 knot side wind that was just plain irritating when we stopped for a pee. By the time it
tool for us to pee the wind stopped. No, not slowed down, stopped. I have never seen the
wind stop so fast. In fact I have never had forecasts like you get in Tasmania before. This
was one forecast. 15 to 25 knot S/W winds in the morning backing N/E later. Waves 2 to
4 meters with swell confused. Result ….. paddler confused. In fact for most of the trip the
swell was forecast as confused and they were right. Two swells would come from the
right and the next swell would be from the left. One of the things that make Bass Straight
so formidable is the fact that the area is affected by 3 weather systems, two currents and
reasonable tidal influence. Thus the confused swells and paddlers.
We were now heading out of Bicheno where we had a rest day. Darren didn’t want to
stop but the rest of us did. It was a great day of doing nothing and wandering the town.
The forecast was not good as were expecting strong head winds. The aim was to each
Wineglass Bay but it did not look good. As we passed Governor Island and the point one
of the fishermen told us to be careful as it was very rough of the headlands. Once past the
point the full force of the wind hit us. We were doing ok with a reasonable headway of 4
km per hour but I expected the wind to increase. Cape Lodi was in the distance and I
made a mental not to re-evaluate the situation there.
This wind was picking up slightly as we neared the point. Walls of dark green water were
lined up and heading straight for me. The bow of my boat suddenly dipped and as the
bow went under water rushed up and hit me in the face. The boat glided down the back of
the wave only to nearly stall so I leaned forwarded paddling hard to get up the face of the
next green wall. As well as the continuous green walls we were now getting rebound off
the cliff. The waves would hit the cliff and reflect back out at the same angle they hit the
cliff at. So as you struggled with wind and waves coming straight at you, smaller waves
were constantly hitting you from the side. This had the tendency to throw the boat up as
they passed under you and it is easy to miss a stroke as the water disappears beside the
boat. I felt at one point I was going up and down more than I was going forward. In these
conditions it is also hard to maintain a good paddle rhythm as every stroke you are
looking for the sweet spot on the water.
We had looked at a couple of beaches to land on but their were rocks on one and on the
other the surf although land able now, may not be good for launching the next day, so we
headed for Friendly Point. As we were approaching the point we had been on the water 5
hours and the wind was picking up. We had another 15 km to go to Wineglass Bay and if
the wind picked up to the forecast 25 knots we would cease forward headway. Even it
didn’t pick up we were looking at leased another 5 hours hard paddling. As we had
plenty of time I decided I would not go on. I discussed this with Ian and Tell who agreed
it was pointless to go on. Darren came up and when I said we were landing for the day
was pissed off. He wanted to push on. When we landed Darren was in a huff and took a
lift into Coles Bay with a tourist. I was worried at what impact this might have on group
dynamics. It was becoming clear that Tel, Ian and I saw things differently to Darren.
That night Darren arrived back after a 3 hour run walk back from Coles Bay. He
apologized for getting in a huff and running off, so problem averted, for now. It is always
difficult to get group dynamics to work for month long trips. Especially where 3 people
are very similar in how they think and one is not. This means aims and outcomes for both
groups would be slightly different. When you live with people 24 hours a day everyone is
going to have a bad hair day. Even Tel who is almost bald! I was still confident that it
would work out ok and went to bed happy.
Freycinet Peninsular was great with cliff line and sea caves. The little bays were
beautiful and last nights camp on Schouten Island spectacular. Today was looking good.
Although a 30 knot wind was forecast it was at last a following wind. We had a 40 km
crossing to Maria Island to do and I was looking forward to hoisting my sail surfing a
following sea. We had very few days where we could sail and surf a following sea so this
was a rear opportunity. I did want to get going and hopefully land before we got the 30
knots that were predicted. By now breaking camp was a well oiled process and as we
rounded Schouten we came past two fishing boats. The captain reminded us of the 30
knot forecast; obviously concerned for our safety. The wind was still moderate but
picking up.
White rock was in front of us and we were going to take a break there as it was half way
to Maria Island. I was having a ball. Idling along I waited till the wave started to build
behind me. Then it was 4 hard strokes as the third wave in the set started build behind
me. Yahoo I was on and the boat rocketed forwarded at around 20 plus kilometers per
hour. Water sheeted of the bow up to 2 mt high. The boat bounced, lurched and bumped
down the face of the wave then the next wave was in front of me. With the sail and a 100
kg boat I punched straight through the top. A huge spray hit me in the face and on the
boat raced. Tipping forwarded and angling left the boat raced down the face of the
second weave. Leaning left and hard right rudder I forced the boat to the right so I was
at 90 degrease to the face of the wave. Up and over the third wave. This time I was nearly
airborne. Smack back down and slowly slowing back to normal pace. My hart was racing
as I looked left and right for my next exhilarating ride. I love down wind sailing.
We rounded the left side of the rock to be in the lee for a rest. As we rounded the rock
cliff a cave entrance was visible in the small indent. As we paddled over we were awe
struck. The cave was enormous. It was the biggest cave we had ever seen. The rook was
at least 20 mt high and at the back of the cave was a small hole that on low tide you
could paddle through the whole rock. The colors inside were also amazing with green
hues on black and brown rock. We stayed as long as we could but had to eventually push
on to Maria Island.
Maria Island was an old penal colony and has old buildings that have been restored and
could be rented as a type of back packers' accommodation. We were given free camping
in the camp ground by the Ranger for raising awareness for the Devils. They even gave
us a tour of the breeding facility there. I was very impressed by the ranger who showed
us around. He was one of those people who believed in and loved his job. Today was
typical Tazy weather. Thunder storms, lightning, poring rain in the morning and blue
skies and sunshine in the afternoon. There were no rats on Maria Island just Possums
and drunken campers. I must admit I prefer isolated camping to camp grounds but Maria
Island was worth visiting.
We met a fellow paddler as we arrived on Maria Island. Unfortunately he was very new
and inexperienced and was not equipped for a 10 kilometer solo crossing. The weather
has put the wind up him, (excuse the pun), so we told him we would help him get back to
the mainland. The morning was very calm with some light winds so we headed off with
our new friend and escorted him to within a few kilometers of the mainland before
turning left and heading south. There were back cliffs with heaps of caves so progress
was slow and we explored the caves. I love the Tasmanian coast as it has great caves and
rock gardens to play in.
We had a lot of media exposure on the trip with TV radio and newspaper interviews
about the trip and the Devils. We were finding that every where we went people would
ask if we were the Devil Paddlers. We pulled into a small beach near Lauderdale and
were met by a young couple on the beach. They informed us they lived just up the road
and we could camp on their lawn and that they would have a BBQ that night for us. We
had just spoken to Something Wild who told us that a near by caravan park had a cabin
we could stay in for free. The hospitality was amazing. I mean how often do you get two
free offers of accommodation at the same time? We ended up staying with the young
couple and had a wonderful BBQ and great conversation.
Well like all good things the trip had to come to and end. We were now paddling up the
Derwint River just past Hobart and was heading for a little bay with a restaurant and
welcoming party. As we approached the crowed gave us three cheers and clapped. This
was wonderful as we were not expecting a crowd of people. There were TV cameras,
interviews and I really felt like a celebrity. OK Ok I know I am not a celebrity but it still
felt good to have al these strangers come and meet us. Most of my trips end in a remote
place with nobody there and as you drive home people you meet have know idea what
you have just done. This time it was different, and I was enjoying the moment.
To top the trip off, we went and stayed at Something Wild sanctuary. They showed us
around and more importantly showed us the injury free devil breeding program they
pioneered. I was so impressed that I have now taken on the task of raising money to build
a new breeding habitat.
In fact I would like to thank Something Wild for all their hospitality and help.
Les Allen
