This last weekend around Scotland has been a bit tense, what with the Scottish Independence Referendum being successful for the Better Together campaign. But Glasgow was one of the few councils that voted in a majority to secede from the UK and as such the mood around town has been a bit....glum at best. Huge rainstorms Saturday morning cleared into sunny skies and a new day, and Sunday promised to be the same, so my usual hillwalking partner-in-crime, Hazel, and I decided to do a "short" walk. Beinn Chabhair has been on my list for a while. Not so much because it was promising to be a great walk, but because the walk into the Munro seemed to be long and boggy - not something to do in poor weather.
Looking out over the misty mountains of Loch Lomond National Park
from the Meall nan Tarmachan ridge en route to Beinn Chabhair
The walk from Inverarnan up the first steep bit of the walk, through dense ferns in the Loch Lomond valley was definitely not the best part of the walk, though there is a brilliant waterfall where Ben Glas cascades down into the valley. We saw an elderly couple on their way down and had the usual, "Hiya, how's it going?" banter. Usually, the response is a, "Good, and you?" But today, this couple decided to warn us of a tick infestation higher up on the hills, full-on with warnings about how they were jumping all over you, swarming out of the bracken, and you want to get them off before they bury their heads into you with, "THEIR FOUR JAWS!" Coming from anyone, this seems a bit scary, but add in a thick, gravelly Scottish accent, and we were - well, Hazel was - downright terrified! We were warned to put troosers on and cover up. Well, I only had shorts and wasn't planning on turning back so quickly, but Hazel threw on all of her waterproofs, and so covered head to toe - we carried on.
We made it up onto the moorlands, above the supposed tick-zone, and Hazel took off her protective gear and we started the long trudge through the moors. It was a good thing we weren't doing this in the rain, or under poor conditions because navigating the undulating boggy terrain would have been near impossible and certainly not dry. But today, the sun was out, and not a cloud was in the sky, though the atmosphere all around Loch Lomond and the Trossachs National Park was thick with a light-white haze, saturating each mountain with a blue hue that made them seem like paper cutouts, layered one behind another.
Finally we reached the trail to head up Meall nan Tarmachan and left the bog behind. A few sheep watched us trudge up the hill, and listened to our calls as we tested out the awesome echoing acoustics of the rocks we were climbing through. The trail up to the summit was kind of like a rocky and grassy playground as the trail weaved around large outcrops, up and over some scrambly sections, and finally to the summit of Beinn Chabhair, all the while the misty haze hung draped over the surrounding mountains.
We didn't linger for long at the summit, but enjoyed ourselves, but we could tell that our short walk wasn't going to be too short. We'd left the car at 11:20 am and checked the time at the summit at 3:20 pm. Knowing we had to traverse the moors again, we started off back down the track, but it didn't take nearly as long because we were back at the car by 5:30 pm. Though we just ticked off one Munro, it was about all we wanted to handle for the one day, but it sure was a great day to be out!
Right, so continuing on this trend of finally writing backed-up blog posts, this one's a monster simply because of the photos I had to reorganise to get here! Last December, though, I had the great pleasure of being able to tag along and help teach a glacial geology and geomorphology field trip to the central region of New Zealand's South Island. Having been to the North Island and having experienced the northern- and western-most points of the North Island and explored the watery wonderland of the Bay of Islands, I was totally pumped to get to some of the more staggering New Zealand scenery we all know from Lord of the Rings!
After three hours of one of the most turbulent flights I'd been on in a while (and I'd just return to Sydney from a trip to Denver and Vermont), we landed in Queenstown, the adventure capital of New Zealand. The flight in over the Southern Alps was beautiful. Being early December, New Zealand was just emerging from winter and all of the mountains still had substantial snow on them! We wasted no time in picking up our three passenger buses and trailer, and with 24 student in tow, set right off out of Queenstown to the Kawarau Bridge, famous for being the original bungee jump in New Zealand. Of course, we were there to learn about New Zealand's past glacial geology, climate, and geomorphology - or how the landscapes develop and change through time. Along the first few days the students would be presenting small mini-reports on different aspects of these topics and we weren't letting any second go to waste!
After learning about New Zealand's loess deposits, accumulations of wind-blown dust that were deposited under colder dryer conditions during the last glacial period, we headed off the main highway, taking the Crown Range Road to Wanaka where we'd spend the first night. We stayed at a small hostel/motor park near the shores of Lake Wanaka, which fills one of the many glacially-sculpted valleys east of the Southern Alps, including Lakes Wakatipu, Ohau, Pukaki, and Tekapo. Early the next morning, I got up early for a short walk along the lake, looking out across to the beautiful Mt. Alta rising across the shores. Our destination by the end of the day was Mt. Cook Village in Aoraki/Mt. Cook National Park, but we had plenty of stops to make before calling it a day.
Purple lupin growing at the Clay Cliffs near Omarama
We took Lindi's Pass toward Omarama before doubling back across the Ahuriri River to the Clay Cliffs, a geological formation of very soft rocks exposed along the active Osler Fault. The cliffs are a deeply dissected feature that is the site of an ongoing battle between the uplifting tectonic fault and erosion. We stayed here for a short while and had lunch along the Ahuriri River, a beautiful place to dip your feet in the refreshing water and have a bite to eat. We made one more stop to the former river outlet of Lake Pukaki before it was dammed and diverted but also had time to stop at the southern end of Lake Pukaki to get a sense of what we were in for for the next few days.
Aoraki/Mt. Cook (3,724 m/12,218 ft) looming over Lake Pukaki
The weather was bright and sunny and fairly few clouds against a blue sky, and from here, far off in the distance, was the brilliantly majestic peak of Aoraki (or Mt. Cook), the highest point in New Zealand at 3,724 meters (12,218 ft) above sea level! We had to stop here because the view was simply breathtaking, and because Aoraki is apparently often shrouded in clouds, we thought this might be our only chance to see its entire height! And I should mention Lake Pukaki because it was amazing in its own way. There is so much powdered rock, crushed by glacial erosion that gets washed into the lake that it takes on a very milky appearance which reflects the sky on a sunny day, turning it a turquoise colour that is really only best matched by a Crayola crayon of the same colour!
It was windy, so we got back into the vans and started the fairly long drive down the Mt. Cook Road toward Mt. Cook Village, the views along which were absolutely stunning. I'm jealous of the students in my van because they got to stare out the windows the entire time, while I had to keep my eyes on the road. But if you want a fun road to drive along, this is one of them. It just rolls and wraps its way long the lake and the ever-impressive Southern Alps just keep looming in the distance! Well, if the drive wasn't thrilling enough, once you're past the head of the lake, you begin driving through the wide and flat river valley that drains the Mueller, Tasman, and Hooker Lakes which are all fed by glaciers. And while you can't see the glaciers, as they are hidden by huge glacial moraines and tucked away around the mountains, you do see the incredible wall of ICE that is known as the Huddleston Glacier, which frankly, I thought was one of the most impressive things I've ever seen! It's just this massive, steep wall of ice that you just couldn't stop looking at!
Looking down to the Mt. Cook Village from the Red Tarns. The Huddleston Glacier is the big wall of ice plastered
on the side of the Southern Alps in the distance. Mueller Lake and its end moraine seen in the bottom of the valley.
Aoraki (the Maori name for Mt. Cook) features prominently in Maori history. The Maori people believed the South Island to be a canoe that Aoraki and his brothers were using to voyage the world. It tipped and the brothers climbed onto the top of the overturned canoe and turned to stone. Geologically, Mt. Cook is positioned in the Southern Alps which are the result of convergence along the Alpine Fault which is the boundary between the Indo-Australian tectonic plate and the Pacific plate. The fault is mostly a dexteral strike-slip fault, but there is oblique convergence which has uplifted the mountains on the South Island. It is the Alpine Fault that causes most of the earthquakes in New Zealand, and also as it cuts across the north part of the South Island it goes offshore east of the North Island where subduction of the Pacific plate under the Indo-Australian plate results in the volcanism the North Island is famed for!
Well, while all of the students were excited to get out of the vans and start eating and drinking for the night, I had picked up a wee trail map and having heard that weather is rarely clear in the park, I thought I'd take advantage of it by doing a short hike up to the Red Tarns, some small ponds perched high up the mountains above Mt. Cook Village. Luckily summer in the Southern Hemisphere means plenty of light late into the evening, so I didn't have much to worry about - other than breaking my ankle with no one around! Well, the hike up was unrelentlessly steep, but I eventually made it to the tarns, which in and of themselves aren't that impressive, but you don't make that kind of hike to look at a pond, but for the view of the rest of the valley. Up here, you're so high up above the valley that you can see up and over Mt. Wakefield to Mt. Cook as well as up the Tasman River valley to The Armchair and Malcher Peak. The weather was holding up, so I decided to climb even higher to the shoulder of Sebastopol, the lowest peak in the National Park. Catching my breath, I decided my hunger would win over my want to reach the summit, so I raced down a big scree slope and headed back to dinner at the Mt. Cook Village.
The Huddleston Glacier and Mt. Sefton (left), Aoraki/Mt. Cook (right), and the Mueller
Glacier's end massive end-moraine (centre-bottom)
Weather was clear the next morning again, blue skies and few clouds, so I walked up toward The Hermitage - the famously fancy resort hotel in the National Park that looks directly over to Mt. Cook - for a few morning photos before joining back up with the students. We drove up to the Mueller Glacier overlook for a few more student talks. During one of the talks, we all of a sudden heard this huge crack that sounded like thunder, followed by a cascade of booms and crashes. It was so startling that everyone turned their heads to the glaciers behind us. Though we couldn't see anything, it was pretty obvious we'd just heard a massive block of ice break off the Huddleston Glacier, falling down onto the Mueller Glacier below. Coincidentally, the student giving his report was just talking about ice falls. Talk about timing!
Icebergs from the Hooker Glacier floating in Hooker Lake
Once the student talks were done, we started the long hike up to Hooker Lake and the Hooker Glacier that sits right at the base of Mt. Cook. We continued to hear booms of breaking ice behind us during the hour-long walk up to Hooker Lake, which was cool, but the weather turned, which was not. We could see the clouds rising up from the west and flowing over the mountain tops to our left as the wind picked up and threatened to rain us in. But, being geologists, we go out in anything and this certainly didn't stop us and the last few students presented their mini-reports. You couldn't really see the mountain peaks by this point, but you could still get great views over Hooker Lake which was just chockers full of icebergs in various stages of melting, all shapes and sizes! By the time we left Hooker Lake, the weather had cleared up once again, permitting us to drive around to the next valley over to the Tasman Glacier and Lake.
Lake Tasman is a recent feature to the landscape, having only formed in the last 40 years after the Tasman Glacier (left)
retreated to its current position!
Lake Tasman is impressive, if not for its size (7 kilometres long!), for the fact that 40 years ago, it was not there! Forty years ago the Tasman Glacier's terminus was at the lookout most visitors take the short walk up to from the car park. Now, however, Tasman Glacier ends in the lake and icebergs calve off its front. Though the retreat is impressive and offers the opportunity to take speed boat tours around the lake, it just means our changing climate is killing off these magnificent glaciers!
We headed back out of Aoraki/Mt. Cook National Park toward the town of Twizel where we'd be based for the remainder of the trip. Over the next 5-6 days, the students would be working on small group projects in the area, and we, the trip leaders, would drive them wherever they needed to go. But first, we had another stop to get to up beyond Lake Ohau on the other side of Twizel. By the time we got beyond the shores of Lake Ohau, the weather came back with a vengeance.
The next day was fairly uneventful. The rough weather had cleared up and the students used the day to plan their projects. Twizel itself is a pretty dull town. It was founded as a working camp during the construction of the dams that were built on Lake Ohau, but remained a popular stopover point for travelers going to Mt. Cook (not to mention cheaper than staying in Aoraki/Mt. Cook National Park. While there are some nice coffee shops and cafes in the main shopping area, there isn't much to speak of - especially of the locals. While eating dinner at the Power Station Bistro I noticed one man down his beer outside and promptly walk to a short brick wall and urinate on it! Welcome to Twizel, indeed!
I played chauffer for students heading up back into Aoraki/Mt. Cook National Park over the next three days to collect data for their projects. Depending on which group was where, and when they needed to get to their next stops, I often had anywhere from an hour to a few hours by myself before I had to meet any of the students and move them. This was nice because it gave me time to do a few shorter walks and explore the park a bit more. One of the days I walked up the Mueller Glacier trail to see the head of the glacier which had retreated around the corner of its valley, out of sight from the main view point. Right at the bottom of the Huddleston Glacier. No one else was up this far and I enjoy sitting in the sun in the middle of this amazing landscape. I felt so fortunate to be able to experience it in all its sun-shiny glory!
Suspension footbridge over the Hooker River. Aoraki/Mt. Cook shrouded in clouds
I also joined a few student groups on their quests to collect field data. This varied from walking up along the crest of the lateral moraine along the edge of Tasman Lake looking for students who had gotten well-ahead of me, helping students measure boulder dimensions in streams coming down from creeks draining the steep valleys to the west of Mt. Cook Village, and taking one more walk up to the iceberg choked Hooker Lake.
I had no plans to see any more of the South Island on this trip, and though I was a bit let down about not being able to do that before arriving, I don't think I could have asked for a more amazing experience that just being able to wander and explore the Hooker and Tasman Valleys in Aoraki/Mt. Cook National Park. It really must be one of the most spectacular landscapes I've been to. It's drastic, but accessible; staggeringly expansive, but easy to get around; busy with tourists, but big enough that you don't have to go far to get away from them!
Pianist playing his own music during a beautiful Queenstown sunset
over Lake Wakatipu
The students had a final day in Twizel to write up and hand in their reports, so the last day near the mountains wasn't all that exciting. Finally, we were ready to leave Twizel and made the long drive back to Queenstown for our last night in New Zealand. We arrived early afternoon and many of us had previously signed up to go whitewater rafting to celebrate the end of a long week. We dropped our things off at the hostel and met down in the town at Queenstown Rafting where we were fitted up with wetsuits and packed into large vans with a trailer packed with rafts in tow behind us. This is no big deal, except to get to the launch site, we had to drive down Skippers Road, a long, very tightly-winding road that is cut into the side of mountains with very steep slopes! To put it in perspective, if you sat next to the window, you couldn't see the edge of the road and it looked like there was nothing beneath the van! In fact in one or two places, there almost wasn't anything beneath the van... One tight turn has been so abused that the edge of the road has eroded to the point that side of the van on the inside of the road gets scratched by the rocks sticking out of the slope! At another point on Skippers Road, the road appears to be intact, but when you look back up at it from the river, you see that a big chunk of rock, that would otherwise support the road, has simply fallen away! If you're afraid of this kind of driving, there's no hope for you because no matter which side of the van you sit on, you're going to be exposed to one of these hazards!!!
But the rafting itself was awesome! I've only been whitewater rafting once before on the New River in West Virginia where the water levels that year were low enough that the big rapids had diminished many of the rapids, so I wasn't sure what to expect. Well, the Shotover River is pretty much a narrow, narrow canyon with rocky cliffs on either side and in most places the river is as wide as the raft! I've got to give it to the raft guides because they have some of the hardest jobs in the world in keeping us all safe! While we didn't flip, like we did on the New River, there were so many times I thought we were goners! Two girls did fall out at one point, but we safely got them back on the raft just before they were pinned between the rocks and raft! The trip culminates a tunnel that was blasted into the mountianside to funnel water for gold mining in the mid-1800s, the final rapid is shooting down the mill run right where every raft in front of us was waiting and watching, hoping someone would flip. We didn't, but had a great time and it was an awesomely adventurous way to end a week in New Zealand!
That night was spent out in Queenstown watching a beautiful sunset over Lake Wakatipu and eventually some mechanical bull-riding in one of the town's innumerable options of Western/Cowboy-themed bars. Flights back to Sydney the next afternoon gave me a little bit of time to walk around the local Saturday markets along the lakeshore in what ended up being a very nice sunny relaxing way to end my last visit to New Zealand in a long time! Definitely not the last, but a long time at least!
Note: I am well beyond an outsider in Australia and there is a lot to learn about the Aboriginal cultures and ways of life. It is and can be a very sensitive topic in many Australian communities and if my wording or interpretation of what I learned is incorrect or offensive, please let me know. I am trying to be as truthful and as historically and culturally accurate as possible. Thanks!
Over the last few months, I've been watching the airline sales in Australia like a hawk. I was about halfway through my time in Australia for my PhD and was feeling a bit of a mid-Aussie-crisis and realised I might not get to see everything I wanted to if I didn't hurry. I'd planned to visit Australia's Red Centre in the southern Northern Territories in January when I have a bit more time, but then it dawned on me that the weather in the outback in January can be brutally hot! Then, a sale came in from Tiger Airways, from Sydney to Alice Springs and I just decided to book it. Now that I'm sitting in the airport waiting to head back home to Sydney, it was well worth the time off.
Alice Springs from ANZAC Hill and the western MacDonnell Ranges
Alice Springs is not a large town by Australian standards, though it is no tiny burb either. Because of its relative proximity to some of the outback's most famous sites, notably Uluru (the largest rock in the world), Kata Tjuta (aka The Olgas), and Kings Canyon, Alice receives a lot of tourism traffic by air as Aussies and backpackers alike flock here from all over the coastal towns and cities. Alice Springs has a more important place in modern Australian history, however, as being a telegraph relay station between Darwin on the northern coast of the Northern Territories and Adelaide on the southern shores of South Australia. The town even gets is Aussie name from a small pool of water seen near the Telegraph Station a few kilometres north of the present city, a rarity in the dry centre. In fact the pool of water was a temporary puddle, really - a result of previous rains which flooded the Todd River (which is otherwise a dry riverbed). For a short period of time in Australian history, there was a 9th territory - Central Australia - of which Alice Springs was its capital city. Eventually Central Australia merged with the Northern Territories and ceased to exist, but that didn't stop Alice Springs from remaining an important town in the otherwise desolate Ausralian Outback.
To the local Arrernte communities the land around Alice Springs was created by ancestral beings that created the landscape. Specifically, the MacDonnell Ranges were formed by three caterpillars moving across the country, digging their way through the land as they passed Alice Springs. Red river gums, found growing in the dry Todd River bed are sacred and believed to be ancient ancestor caterpillars as well. Another story involves a fight between an ancestral dingo and an anonymous adversary who both fought over a woman and in the midst of their fights created parts of the surrounding mountains including Mt. Gillen, a prominent point on the nearest mountain. The Aboriginal Australians have a deep connection with their surroundings because these ancestral beings formed every part of the landscape as they moved around and so these creation stories, or Dreamtime stories, form the foundation for all rules of social, political, and religious life in Aboriginal communities.
When I arrived in Alice Springs Saturday mid-day, I wasn't expecting much to be going on and thought I'd spend some time at the Natural History Museum, a few kilometres west of the town centre. After chatting to the receptionist at the YHA Hostel (a very nice hostel and in a great location) suggested a few other ideas and I settled on walking out of the city to the north where the original Telegraph Station was located. It was a beautiful walk through rocky sandstone and granite outcrops, red river gums, desert oaks, and beautiful wildflowers along the dry and dusty riverbed of the Todd River. The sun was roasting at midday but I finally reached the Telegraph Station after about an hour of walking only to find that there was a $9 fee to get in to the historic site. The very friendly lady (please note copious amounts of sarcasm here) working the small shop scoffed when I asked if there were student discounts and when I asked if there was anything to see without paying, she just pointed to the exit. So I walked around the fence enclosing the historic compound and then up a hill on which one of the Australian trig points, used as reference points for geographic mapping, was located and snapped a few photos of the MacDonnell Ranges to the west.
The US military personnel from nearby Pine Gap racing the ANZAC
servicemen in the hotly contested annual competition. The US
regained the winning title after last year's loss
Heading back into town along the River Walk I was in for a surprise. Contrary to my Lonely Planet Australia Guide (whose Alice Springs information urgently needs to be completely revamped!), one of the small city's most well-known and exciting events was happening on my arrival day: the Henley-on-Todd Regatta. Even though there is rarely any water flowing along the Todd River through Alice Springs, it is the site of one of Australia's most famous sailing races. Instead of actually sailing on water, the boats used in this regatta are just metal framed, canvas-wrapped "boats" that are picked up by the sailors and run along the race course on the dry river bed and back to the starting point. Hosted by the Mayor of Alice Springs and a number of other emcees, the boats are sponsored by local businesses and anyone in town, or from anywhere in Australia (or the world), can compete in various events including kayak, mini-yacht, and big-yacht races, hampster wheel relays, and tug-o-war for various age groups.
One of the main highlights of the event is a big-yacht race between the Australians and the Americans (military personnel from a nearby station). Apparently last year the Australians were the victors, but the Americans, racing in the USS Mayflower, prevailed this year and were quickly riddled by tongue-in-cheeck humour from the emcees but to great applause from the crowd who are just there for a good time. (The Americans also won the tug-o-war competition, as well, I might add!)
The Navy (left), The Vikings (centre), and The Pirates (right)
But the day's events culminate in the largest gunship battle to occur on Australian soil every year. Right at 4:30 three "ships" built onto the back of large trucks representing the Vikings, the Navy, and the Pirates enter the arena and drive around battling each other. The ships launch water balloons, fire coloured saw-dust canons, and hose each other down with high-pressure water guns all while trying to evade attacks from the other ships as the crowd cheers them on. Even though the Vikings were the first to run out of water and most-bullied by the Navy and Pirates, they seemed to be a long-time crowd favourite though it was the Pirates who came away victorious this year. The poor Navy lost despite their high-energy attacks and subsequently endured a host of adult-humoured, Village People, seamen-themed jokes from the announcers.
Interestingly enough, the Henley-on-Todd is probably the only regatta in the world to be cancelled due to wet weather as the usually dry riverbed surges with flash-flood waters flowing through the city (and this has happened at least once!).
After the Henley-on-Todd finished, I made my way up Alice Springs ANZAC hill where their memorial honouring fallen, former, and current armed service men and women dominates the town's skyline for a beautiful sunset over the western MacDonnell Ranges. It was my first taste for an outback sundown and what a sunset it was! The ever-present dust in the air in central Australia makes for beautiful red and blue sunsets and the silhouettes of the denuded mountains to the west made for a spectacular end to a great day.
Once the sun went down I found some quick take-away and went to bed since I was getting picked up the next morning for my 3-day outback tour.
I woke up early in the morning at the YHA in Strahan, packed up my things, and loaded my bags into my rental car, and drove down to the Esplanade in the town centre for my first (and only) ANZAC Day Dawn Service. The Australia and New Zealand Army Corps (ANZAC) was the first organised armed services of both countries and were first deployed in World War I at the Battle of Gallipoli which was an effort by the Allies to capture Constantinople and thus monitor/block all sea trade to Russia (thanks, Wikipedia). What I did not have to look up, though, was that the battle was not successful for the Allied Forces and many Australians and New Zealanders lost their lives. ANZAC Day memorialises this Battle as well as all other military excursions that the two countries have been involved in since. It's essentially the Australian and New Zealand version of Memorial Day. Traditional services are held at dawn throughout Australia, and Strahan was no exception. I stopped in at the coffee shop among the 60 or so townspeople who were up early for the service. Soon, the townspeople formed a procession 3-across and walked over to an obelisk in ANZAC Park across the street (while I, and any other tourists, just wandered en masse). There was a nice little service with some prayers being read, a poem by a local high schooler, and some words from the town's mayor - all of which was constantly interrupted by a hoarde of geese, ducks, and seagulls in the park behind us, so it was kind of hard to hear. Then the mayor tried playing a recording of tradtional ANZAC music on a portable CD player, but couldn't get it to play. After about five minutes, the young high schooler who read the poem stepped up to help the elderly mayor. Thinking a young person would have the CD player going in no time, it surprised me when after another five minutes passed and the music hadn't started. It was then I realised how unique my age is: the mayor was maybe too old to be familiar with CD players and the high schooler was so used to iPods and mp3 players that she also didn't know how to work it! They eventually realised that if they put the CD player on solid ground, it would play just fine. The service soon ended and most everyone headed into the local hotel (pub) for breky and a coffee and rum mixture. I settled for coffee (plain) and a sandwich from the cafe next door.
It was a very bleak, grey, and drizzly morning, but I'd booked a ticket on the Gordon River Cruise (highly recommended by tour guides). Strahan is nestled in a little cove off of Macquarie Harbour, Australia's second largest harbour next to Melbourne's Port Phillip Bay, and fed by the Gordon River, which extends up into the vast wilderness of southwest Tasmania. I booked the trip for three reasons. Firstly, not having much time to hike into many of the wilderness areas of Tasmania, I thought this would be a fantastic way to "get into" the wild (yes, even if it is aboard a luxury catamaran). Secondly, it also stopped at the famous Sarah Island - one of Tasmania's most feared convict colonies out on a tiny island in the middle of the harbour - and I wasn't sure if I'd get to learn anything about Tasmania's harsh convict history during the rest of my trip. Thirdly, it included lunch!
The cruise left the docks in Strahan and immediately headed out toward the entrance to the harbour where we passed a few different lighthouses while passing through Hell's Gate. The convicts called the entrance to Macquarie Harbour Hell's Gate because of its isolation and hardships they knew they'd endure on Sarah Island as well as the fact that even though the surrounding area is beautiful, attempted escape almost certainly would lead to death either by British soldiers or the treacherous nature of the environment. Hell's Gate is only a few tens of metres wide and is very shallow, so not too many large vessels can enter the harbour. Also because of the shallow and narrow entrance, it takes ebb tides more time to push their way into the harbour. In fact, the upper few metres of the harbour's water is freshwater supplied from the surrounding rivers and stained brown with tannin because the narrow entrance to the harbour makes it more difficult for the tides to flush out the harbour!
Lighthouse at Hell's Gate, the entrance to Macquarie Harbour, Tasmania
This has an added benefit to the local fishermen. Salmon and trout were introduced to Australia from Great Britain and because they require a certain balance of fresh and salt water, Macquarie Harbour is the perfect place for fish farms, of which there are many.
The boat turned around outside Hell's Gates, not wanting to get battered by the huge ocean waves, wind, and rain and went back into the harbour toward the opposite end where the Gordon River flows into it. As soon as we neared the entrance to the river, the water became much calmer and though it was still rainy and gray the trip became a bit more relaxed. We traveled up the river a few kilometres and learned about the native Huon Pines which grow in the area. Convicts at Sarah Island predominantly built ships out of the Huon Pine because the pine's pitch contained an oil which prevented worms from boring into the wood. Logging of the Huon Pines was so intense that all operations have since been halted and the species protected. Now, only National Park officials can remove Huon pine wood from the forests, and even then, it can only be wood from fallen trees. No Huon pines can be cut down.
Mouth of the Gordon River, flowing into Macquarie Harbour, Tasmania
We got off the boat and had a little walk on a boardwalk through the rainforest, which was very very rainy and allowed us to get up close with the Huon pines and a number of little mud chimneys built by crabs excavating down into it. Back on the boat, though, a buffet lunch was served with some of the freshest salmon you could hope for and local Tassie apples. Delicious!
The rain had stopped momentarily as we approached Sarah Island, home to one of the worst convict settlements in Tasmania, reserved only for those who repeated offense after arriving to Australia. The island is fraught with stories of cruelty, backstabbing, coercion, treachery, and violence I cannot even begin to recount the tales we heard. But the end of Sarah Island came with the installation of a commandant who had previously been a ship builder with no experience of managing convicts. But as soon as he started his post at the island, the violence decreased, the escape attempts stopped, and productivity increased immensely. It turns out that when you give convicts special things they want like alcohol and dignified sleeping quarters, you could get in return a very productive work force. But after news of fair treatment toward the convicts at Sarah Island reached the higher-ups in the British military, the settlement was shut down.
Convict settlement ruins on Sarah Island in Macquarie Harbour, Tasmania
Having spent enough time outside on the boat, I stayed inside the rest of the way back to the wharf. Arriving shortly after 2pm in Strahan, I rushed to get to my car because I knew I had very limited hours of daylight remaining and a very long way to go to get back to Hobart for the night! But as luck would have it, the rain started back up as soon as I got back in my car. Not just a drizzle, but one of the most blinding, white-out deluges I've ever driven through. I put my trust in the little car and its tires and just started heading down the road trying not to slow down through the very rough driving conditions where rain was flowing down the road and around corners. My wipers, though on at the highest setting, couldn't keep up with the rain. I bought petrol in Queenstown and then started my ascent into the mountains.
The change from the day before in the mining area, where all the hills had been stripped of vegetation and soil was unbelievable. Every single crevasse or nook between hills was GUSHING with unbelievably voluminous waterfalls! With nowhere for the rain to seep into, it just collected and rushed downhill!! The rain continued as I got up into the mountains, and though I was making good time, I was surely driving a little too dangerously for the conditions. But finally, a few hours later, as I came closer to Lake St. Clair, the rain let up as the weather was held back on the western side of Tasmania by the highly elevated mountains. While still wet, the rest of the drive was fairly smooth and pleasant and I made it back to the Hobart airport to drop of my rental car only about an hour after the sun went down.
