Finally on our way.
A week before we were due to head off - somewhere - the long term weather forecast was so settled and the swell so low that it would have been silly to head anywhere else but the West and South West Coasts. To paddle this section again, but with more time, longer days and more food had been our aim for this summer. And the weather looked perfect.
As we left Macquarie Heads, Strahan on the 16th Feb it didn't look quite that good though. A 1.5hr slog into the wind got us around Cape Sorell and then a bit of a wild down wind run with a 15-20knot NW wind behind us creating increasingly large seas.
Suddenly we were tired, time to land but not so easy as we crept in closer to the coast looking for some shelter. A couple of promising places proved to be a maelstrom of white water then a few kilometres further on, just north of Varna Bay a small cove facing SW looked promising. Will the surf be breaking across the entrance preyed on our minds as we crept around the offshore breakers, a tense 100m and suddenly you know your feet are going to hit dry land without any dramas.
As we scouted around looking for a sheltered campsite a devil came trotting along the foreshore between the two of us and we were only about 30m apart, seemingly completely unaware of our presence. In the end we decided that tucked in behind a bush on the expansive wallaby grass wasn't the most sheltered spot for the tent but it had much better views than being totally surrounded by sheltering bush.
The wild first day and a two hour slog into a strong headwind the next day brought us to Sanctuary Cove and the settled weather we expected. Unreal conditions, I felt like tiptoeing around and talking in whispers in case the weather gods of the West Coast realised we were there and decided we weren't welcome.
On the next day to The Shank, about 15km north of Low Rocky Point, the offshore rocks providing a 'sheltered' anchorage for fishing boats. With only a 1m SW swell we could thread our way at will through the narrowest of gaps in the rocks to reach the beach. I reckon even in a big blow and or big swell a weary kayaker could land here somewhere.
There were two or three big skates basking in shallows at The Shank, which turned out to be an absolutely amazing spot, despite the scungy camping on the only "level" spot we could find - a quad bike track in the dunes. We had a wheel rut each.
On to Cowrie Beach south of Low Rocky Point in such calm seas it was really hard to believe we were where we were.
Although a long way from Maatsuyker Island we thought it might just be worth following the quad bike tracks, and yes you probably thought we were in the wilderness too, to see if we could pick up the regular weather broadcast on VHF. Much to our delight we did, loud and clear. What was also obvious though from the forecast was that we were not going anywhere the next day with 25kn SW winds forecast.
As we came around Low Rocky Point we noticed a tinny ahead, the deckhand keeping station above the abalone diver below. The guy was friendly and we chatted for a while, some of the fishermen are not so welcoming, considering sea kayakers completely nuts to be paddling the West Coast. Oh wait.....
He offered us a couple of abs, then handed over three of the biggest I have ever seen.
The firesite at Cowrie Bay comes equipped with a large frying pan, just perfect for the preparation of the abs, garlic and tomatoes for dinner.
Following the day long south westerly blast the blue skies and mirror calm seas returned the next day to allow us to continue south towards Port Davey about 45km away. Such calm weather provides the luxury to do a little exploring without the pressure of having to head for the next known safe landing spot. I had read about this gulch in Mulcahy Bay in Bern Cuthbertson's account of his 1986 circumnavigation of Tasmania in a replica of the whaleboat Captain James Kelly used on his trip around in 1815-16. We were very glad to land in a smaller, rockier but much more sheltered gulch to the east of this one a couple of years ago in conditions where the surf would have been breaking right across the mouth of this one.
Alfhild Bight surrounded by reefs and with a NW aspect looked promising on the map for that night and we were both sure too that we had heard of other kayakers landing there. Again the conditions allowed us to check out a spot and be able to move on if landing looked too problematic or there was no space to camp.
With the flat calm sea it proved to be an easy landing of course, but there were too many rocks immediately offshore and littering the beach to make it anything other than a landing of last resort in any other conditions.
Finding a campsite proved tricky but in the end after clearing a tent shaped clearing in the bracken we could make ourselves at home.
A balmy evening enabled us to sit on the duck bank, cook our dinner on a fire on the beach and sit back to watch the sunset.
On to Melaleuca and the new Aboriginal interpretive Needwonee Walk. This area was once the homeland of the Needwonee people who used to visit the offshore islands using paperbark canoes such as this one, this included Maatsuyker Island 15kms off the south coast. Even today in a modern sea kayak to paddle out to Maatsuyker is quite a challenge.
Setting off from Melaleuca Lagoon with the classic skyline of Mount Rugby etched against the blue sky.
We had set off from Melaleuca early, rested and full of hope, oh and a good weather forecast with the aim of getting all the way around South West Cape to Ketchem, a long day but with a northerly backing to a 15-20kn north westerly we imagined we would rocket south under sail. It wasn't to be though, first of all on sponging out a large amount of water for the second time as we reached Big Caroline rock it was obvious we were sinking, slowly.
As we turned and headed back into Port Davey and the shelter of Spain Bay the north westerly came in, and came in with a vengeance too as suddenly we seemed surrounded by white water and breaking waves. It was very nice to be sitting comfortably with a coffee in the campsite at Spain Bay imaging we could easily have been out there dealing with an uncomfortably large sea with really nowhere to go for shelter but onwards around SW Cape. Tricky.
So, to the repairs. A handy tree branch and a flotsam plastic drum provided a handy work space to dry the outside of the boat and carefully fill it with water to find the hole. A leak that had become a lot worse today was probably the one that I had been seeking unsuccessfully for a couple of years now. Fairly quickly an obvious leak was found, a crack almost completely through the hull. Out came the repair kit and surprisingly, given it had been put together last century without a thought since, everything required was there to complete my first ever fibreglass repair on a trip. Given the incredibly hard life the boat gets on our trips I am surprised this was the first serious leak we've had; we can barely drag let along lift the double when it is laden.
The patch worked well but we were still leaking though not as badly, almost certainly the original leak that I had already failed to find. Oh well.
Mmmm, I think that custard mix spent too many years at Frenchmans in a food drop that I retrieved a couple of years ago - it tasted fine but then I guess sugar and artificial flavouring last for ever!
The wind changed direction a few times but the strength, 20kn + didn't let up much at all so we were at Spain Bay for five nights as we waited for a chance to get around South West Cape. Two of those days were very high fire danger days when it was 38deg in Hobart with strong northerly winds. We sweltered too, monitoring ABC Hobart for news of the Meadowbank fire every hour or so as it could potentially have affected Mountain River.
Apart from reading books and listening to the hours of podcasts we had a great walk one day over to Stephens and Noyhener Beaches.
The pigface fruit was in perfect condition, tasting a bit like lychee but less sweet and fleshy. We picked a bagful and stewed them up for dessert that night.
Bastard Trumpeter for dinner, yum!
Leaving Ketchem after two nights held up by really strong south easterlies and southerlies and heading only a few kms on to New Harbour.
Elephant seal on Ketchem Beach.
Finally the wind dropped and we headed out of New Harbour for Louisa Bay or Little Deadmans.
It was a bit of a headwind plod to Louisa Bay where we decided to camp - we could have plodded on to Little Deadmans but Anchorage Cove in Louisa Bay is a much nicer spot. During a lull in the strong easterlies that afternoon, we paddled across to Louisa Is and the entrance to Louisa River and paddled upstream until the scrub became too thick, about 5 kms.
The next day's forecast included a gale warning (35kn+) of E-NE winds backing W-NW just as strong during the day. We woke to almost calm conditions - low misty weather we'd usually associate with an 'easterly' stream. We waited for the chaos to begin ... listened to the weather at 8.30 ... still the same ominous forecast ... still hardly a breath stirred. We deliberated, then decided to go for it anyway - reasoning that if the E gale arrived we could always return here. As we packed and left about 10.30, 'something' was coming - the Ironbounds disappeared, then Mt Louisa, and the mirk slowly enveloped us as we paddled across Louisa Bay on an eerily still oily calm sea.
The calm continued so we didn't even bother going into Little Deadmans and headed straight for Rocky Boat Inlet; we even got a great little north westerly of 10kts that enabled us to sail the last 5 or 6kms to Rocky Boat.
After that one calm day, despite the gale warning, the strong winds returned so we spent two days at Rocky Boat pinned down by 25-30kn south westerlies.
Rocky Boat Inlet although very close to the South Coast Track is well defended by thick scrub so it is usually only visited by kayakers. We bashed our way out through the scrub one day and walked west along the SCT to Prion Beach. Above is the view west over Prion Beach and a classic wild south westerly day.
Sometime last winter there must have been one hell of a storm as we saw massive erosion and coastal damage all along the south coast. In the decades that both of us have been visiting this area neither of us had seen such extensive storm damage before.
Although patience is supposed to be a virtue especially for sea kayakers waiting for the weather we decided to brave the forecast 10-20kn easterlies and force our way around at least to South Cape Rivulet, the next safe landing spot or even onto Cockle Creek if the wind turned out not to be as strong as forecast.
Well it was at least as strong as forecast, but we did manage to thrash our way to South Cape Rivulet taking five hours to cover the 21kms - the last 9 of those kms, from South Cape, took us 3 hours.
Reaching South Cape Rivulet meant the pressure was off, as it is only a few hours walk to the road end and if we had to leave the boat it was only a day trip to drive from home, walk back in and paddle it out. Of course we didn't really want to do this so despite the same forecast as the day before we were on the water at 7am again expecting a similar headwind slog for the 6km from Whale Head to Second Lookout Point. Luckily it wasn't quite as strong and we made reasonable progress; it was such a relief to round Fishers Point, put the sails up and sit back to be blown downwind to Cockle Creek and the end of our three weeks paddling.
We have paddled the coast between Cockle Creek and Port Davey now four times and never been held up by the weather so much, it is very unusual to have such consistently strong easterly quarter winds. Even more unusual was a south easterly swell twice the size at 2m of the south westerly swell.
So after a quick lunch I set off to hitch the 130kms back to Hobart to pick up our car to then return to pick up Lynne and the kayak. As I sat by the side of the road a little car came careening around the corner into Cockle Creek and screeched to a halt opposite me. Our daughter Megan had set off on her world travels about a year ago, returning home while we had been away, so there we were reunited on the side of the road. She and friend Noona had decided on a few days camping at South Cape Bay - they had thought they might meet up with us but given only a few minutes or a few hundred metres difference in our movements and we would have missed each other.
