Scribe: Rex Brown
Saturday 17th
John Hyndman and I arrived early at Station Pier, 10.30am, for a departure at 1.00pm on the Devil Cat, only to be told that despite our queries at the time of ticket purchase the fact that the our Kayaks extended beyond John’s four wheel drive we were hit with an extra bill of $60.00 which included $35.00 to Tassy and $25.00 for the off peak return trip. The attendant explained that this was a common mistake made at the time of sale due the ticket vendor not asking enough question. Little use in arguing, our mission was to first get to Tasmania. I was a little confused about the fuss when our kayaks extended over cars at the front and rear of John’s vehicle. Prior to departing we saw a number of boats accompanied by Jet Skis, as we departed the riders jumped in the wash of the Devil Cat, which soon left them all behind. I was a little apprehensive about our trip across Bass Strait for two reasons, the nick name of spew cat, given the ability for all passengers to become sea sick and also the fact that a storm had been forecast during our crossing.

The trip was relatively comfortable with an average speed of 40knots, we arrived at Georgetown at 6.40pm, ahead of schedule courtesy of the light northerly wind I suspect. We soon spotted Laurie FORD from the deck as he pulled into the car park with his Sea Leopard kayak on the roof of his car. We then followed Laurie to Bridport and met Jeff JENNINGS. Jeff is responsible for the filming of the Maatsuyker Canoe Club trips. I was amazed at his sea kayaking photos which were also well presented as a screen saver on his computer. That evening we watched a new video he was producing, and his offer to sleep overnight was gratefully accepted. Laurie was keen to advise an early rise at 5.30am would be required to compensate and ensure we were at Little Musselroe Bay by 7.00am to catch the tide. We got to bed relatively late and I heard clawing at the side door, upon inspection I weakened and let Thomas the cat in. At the time the wind had picked up and was beginning to blow, the front was a little late, I hoped the wind would drop by morning. Thomas woke me several times during the night with his purring and moving about which included attempting to sleep on my head. I awoke in the morning to find everyone complaining about the cat, it appeared he had disturbed everyone’s sleep. The wind had not dropped and if anything was increasing in strength.

Sunday 18th
By the time we arrived at Little Musselroe the wind was blowing at least 30knots, I was not keen to be attempting a long crossing. Laurie suggested we cross to Swan Island and wait there for the wind to drop, we all agreed and headed off as the wind was with the tide and the trip was quick. As we left I followed Laurie out the mouth of the river only to get stuck on the sand bar. It was then I appreciated how light Laurie’s kayak was, I didn’t have to be told about how heavy mine was.

I soon followed John and Jeff out of the river, watching Laurie with his two sails up inspired me to at least have one sail up but only for a short time as I was uncomfortable in the conditions - I was concerned that I may not be able to pull my sail down. Laurie was surfing some of the waves with both sails up, and then I looked across to Jeff to see him filming, holding a video camera in one hand and using one hand to hold his paddle and brace. I began to wonder what I had gotten myself into and whether I was going to be able to stick it out with these guys.

We arrived at Swan Island, at Little Jetty Cove, Jeff then opened his water proof housing for his video camera and I was shocked to see a steady stream of water coming from inside the camera. We met the Managers, Ken and Susan STONEMAN, who were kind enough to invite us to tea and cake and then give us the news that the wind was gusting to 42knots. The wind continued to blow and we were invited to tea, which included Swan Island Pizza a secret mixture of Egg plant, sweet potato, basil and Capsicum, it was beautiful, and John grabbed two take away slices for later. By 6.00pm the wind had dropped to 15knots and Laurie was keen to get moving so we headed across Banks Strait to Clarke Island.

The water was affected by tide and wind and resembled a washing machine at times, the tides sweep through Banks Strait at an average 3 to 4 knots, with localised tide races of around 5 to 6 knots. After an hour or so we had spread out with Laurie, Jeff, John and me in a line, it was refreshing to see the others look back occasionally in my direction. John dropped back and asked me to look over my right shoulder, where I saw very dark clouds and it was clear all was not well, all of us picked up our speed but soon the wind increased to 20 knots and then rain. Negative thoughts of tipping were soon reinforced by more positive thoughts and the thought that things could not get any worse? A look to the left saw the sun at Water level, I knew then I only had a short amount of daylight left, by this time I had lost sight of Laurie in the swells and was having trouble keeping Jeff in sight. I soon lost sight of Jeff and could see John put a red flashing light on his back. Unfortunately it was then that someone turned the lights out. It was not a pretty sight, darkness and in a washing machine, watching each side with waves breaking both ways. My decision was easy, I was landing at the nearest beach getting out and kissing the sand was my thought. This helped, but the negative thoughts of drifting out into Bass Strait out of control and out of mind! I was getting closer to the beach and I could see Laurie had landed and had a torch on. Then the noise of crashing surf, and concern at how big it was, as I got closer a wave picked me up and I back paddled more out of concern as to how big the wave was and what sort of beach I was landing on in the dark. I allowed another wave to pass and followed it in, normally I may have attempted to surf in, but in the dark? A following wave eventually caught up and I surfed in bracing as I was turned parallel to the beach. Laurie, Jeff & John were there to help me, I decided not to kiss the sand. Jeff then joked that it would be simple to re-enact the crossing by simply throwing buckets of water over someone in the bath and turning the lights out. This was a fairly accurate description of our crossing.

Monday 19th
Already I was paying for fibre glassing a new seat in my kayak, it felt too tight; and breaking my good paddle meant I had brought an old repaired one and five large blisters were emerging on my right hand. I was not looking forward to the rest of the trip with these hands. I slept well that night, come to think of it we all did and no wonder after that crossing. The thought of finishing our trip back across the same stretch of water without stopping at Swan Island would remain with me for the next two weeks. Laurie woke us all early with a cry that was to become familiar. “Five minutes copper” Laurie had agreed to meet another sea kayaker, Grant, and some friends who had travelled by boat from Tassy to Lady Barron and would meet us on Tuesday at 12.00pm at the 1912 wreck of the Farsund near Vansittart Island. An early start and a light onshore wind allowed us to use our sails, around Clarke Island and across to Cape Barren Island. Laurie suggested I tape up my blisters and leave them taped, I took the advice and Laurie supplied the water proof band aids. Lunch at Kent Bay and then through the Sea Lion Narrows, a place were the tide races and cannot be paddled against. Onto Petticoat Bay and set up camp for the evening, my seat was getting painful and was simply too tight - Laurie suggested we fix it at Lady Barron.

Tuesday 20th
John was kind enough to lend me a pair of gloves and a wind jacket as I was beginning to chaff under my arms courtesy of my cag I suspect. Up with Laurie’s call and onto Thirsty Lagoon, the wind was on shore which allowed us to sail, but our eyes had to regularly check sea ward for the odd large breaking swell. On occasions I had two sails up for the first time, I was beginning to enjoy the trip, the pain of my blisters was fading. At the north-eastern corner of Cape Barren Island there was a large sand dune and I noticed someone on a motor bike ripping up and down the dune but suddenly they were stranded side ways when three quarters the way up. Fortunately someone came to their rescue. Onto the wreck of the Farsund arriving a little late around midday but no sign of Grant and his crew. The tidal effect around the Farsund was amazing, the water would suddenly erupt, and just as quickly stop. Wave crossing at angles to one another. Laurie had an unexpected roll. Conditions did not allow for a landing on the Farsund, I handed my camera to Laurie and surfed a wave down the northern side of the wreck.

No time for a rest as Laurie indicated it was important to beat the tidal set and cross before we would be pushed west ward. The water at Pot Boil Point was amongst the best white water I have ever seen. Laurie indicated to head straight across to Lady Barron. I looked back at him and wondered how in the hell I was going to paddle through the white water which was only getting bigger. I was relieved when Laurie said not to get into the breakers, but keep along the edge and aim west to the pier, and I could then make out the small township of Lady Barron. I was comfortable leaving one sail up and if anything the wind increased and made the sail enjoyable. Upon arrival at the Port I limped from my kayak and Laurie offered to fix my seat and I gratefully accepted. The local wharf keeper David was kind enough to lend us not only an angle grinder but the keys to his car should we need them. Laurie produced his fibre glass repair kit and resin, glass and brushes for the job.

Laurie was disgusted when John Jeff and I unanimously voted to try a counter meal. The peppered steak was magnificent compared with the pasta and rice dishes I prepare. The view from the hotel window set on a hill overlooking the Port and Cape Barren Island was enjoyed by all. I was fascinated by the skeleton of a shark on the wall, which was seven feet round, Jeff’s comment, “I’d rather be taken by one that big because it would be all over quickly?” The shark was caught by a local fisherman off Sellars Point on the eastern side of Flinders Island.

Wednesday 21st
Laurie suggested we leave at 1200 to use the tide and the morning was spent walking up to Vinegar Hill lookout, the view was worth it - the effect of land, water, islands and mountains was magnificent.

Departed 1200hrs and the wind was on shore with the odd gust making sailing a dream. Pulled into Pigs Head Point. The view of the Strzelecki Peaks from the land and the mountains of Cape Barren Island out to sea made for a pleasant lunch. Jeff’s sail was the largest and he appeared to be always travelling the quickest - that was until he broke his rudder pin. Laurie remarked that the sail was too powerful for the boat and put stress on the rudder. Jeff had to brace with his paddle to steer his kayak and he paid the price for the rest of the trip as he strained his wrists.

Onto Trouser Point where the view from the water across the many coves at the mountains was breath taking. Landing at Trouser Point we set up camp. John and I explored the rocky out-crops finding the odd rock pool, aboriginal middens, and a small creek housing a rather large hairy nosed wombat and three potoroos. The repairs by Laurie worked and I had no trouble walking. I found Laurie at my Kayak gluing a Maatsuyker Canoe Club sticker on the deck, and his comment, “I thought you blokes would have turned back but you’re still with us, that means I’m making you a honorary member of our club for this trip.” I thanked him and appreciated his gesture.

Thursday 22nd
The day was spent trekking up the mountains to the very peak. Fortunately by the time we arrived the clouds had cleared. From the peak we had an excellent view. The sweat was pouring off me - out of condition some what. The trip took us over five hours return and the peak was extremely windy. But as we returned, the temperature climbed to 27 degrees and the wind dropped off, and it was not long before I was out of water. It was so hot even my back pack was saturated.

Back at the campsite two girls, local from the island, offered us some left over sliced potatoes and I cooked up some chips. Stories of the large tiger snake that frequented the local toilet were followed by an experience of a uncle who hunted mutton birds and on placing his hand into a nest he was bitten. Experienced Mutton bird hunters claim by placing their hand over the burrow and feeling the heat given off they can tell if a Mutton bird is in the nest of a tiger snake. Definitely not a job for me, we all had a laugh when the girl commented that occasionally some hunters get it wrong.

Friday 23rd
Depart Trouser Point at 0700hrs and onto Whitemark, checked out the bakery and a peppered pie, visited the museum at the rear of a store, supermarket and art gallery then back to our boats and onto Emita to visit the historic museum. A ten knot south-easterly wind allowed us to have our sails up but paddling was still required. On leaving Whitemark the waters are very shallow and into the next bay around Settlement Point, and I saw a large metre tall penguin with bushy eye brow. The shags on the rock made for a familiar photograph. Arriving at 1530 we visited the museum which gave me a taste of the history of the area starting from the wreck of the Sydney Cove, the invasion of convicts after the rum from the wreck, and sealers after the colonies of seals observed by the crew of the Sydney Cove who made it back to Sydney. The sealer were known to abduct up to six aboriginal women for their own use. One story mentioned Lucy BEEDON, half caste queen of the Islands who was the daughter of Emmerenna, a Tasmanian Aboriginal woman, and James BEEDON, a London Jew. Lucy devoted her life to helping and trying to educate children of the Straitsmen. She died in 1886 a lost champion, she was responsible for establishing the first state school, using a tent on Badger Island in 1871. The extermination of seals had been thorough with John sighting our only seal in our later crossing from Goose Island. Sighting the pictures taken of Mutton bird hunting with hunters pulling birds from the burrows and threaded onto sticks to be plucked and boiled, they are considered good eating. I could not help but feel some remorse for the birds who travelled such great distances from Australia to Japan. The islands and Flinders Island are beautiful and yet barren and isolated, a test for anyone wanting to survive in early years - and a cooked Mutton bird would have been a must for the earlier explorers. Returning to our camp site we met the Island musician who gave us water and showed us his plastic kayak, and his juggling skills using clubs made out of eight recycled Coke bottles. He was attempting to capture the market of empty Coke bottles and we were sworn to secrecy;

Saturday 24th
0630 we departed Emita, an easterly wind of 10 - 15 knots was blowing and we were able to sail and paddle to Killiecrankie by Marshall’s Bay and Tanners Bay. Both were pretty open bays, leading onto Cape Frankland which was a mass of rocky out-crops. We were able to investigate the shore line, Laurie explained this was the first time he had been able to venture so close to the shore, because at other times the wind and tide made it too dangerous and he had been forced to stay well out to sea.

Every now and then the odd rock would appear out of no where as the swell rebounded, this was no place for a power boat. The wind began to pick up and a front was approaching. A yacht was sheltering in behind Prime Seal Island.

We landed at Killiecrankie just as the front was arriving, lunch consisted of a visit to the local and only shop. Pies, ice-cream, coke and chocolate. The local shop keeper explained how she and her husband had been recently to Chappell Island and killed ten tiger snakes in the shearing shed. She warned us to be on the lookout for tiger snakes swimming around the Island. I mentioned this to Laurie and he explained he had hear that story before, but never seen any snakes swimming???

Laurie’s brother in-law Alf STACKHOUSE was able to provide us with a roof and bunkhouse for the next two days as the front set in with a vengeance. I was tired, and it was not until after I dozed off on the couch that I then went to bed and literally collapsed. I woke during the night to recover my sleeping bag from the kitchen only to watch a spectacular lightning display over Killiecrankie Bay. I thought briefly about members of the Victorian Sea Kayak Club who had a trip to Wilson’s Promontory directly across Bass Strait and wondered how dry they would be in this storm. I later found out that only two tents remain dry.

Sunday 25th
It was apparent we would not round the top of Flinders Island in these conditions. We borrowed Alf’s car with no front brake, and we drove off and inspected Palana, a beautiful beach, and then to North East river. The wind was howling and the water was a wall of continuous white water across the entrance. Our decision to stay at Alf’s was the right one to make and back to Alf’s we went.

Monday 26th
Rain wind and more rain, staying inside was the order of the day but the view out our kitchen window of Mount Killiecrankie was terrific with each change of light the mountain took on a different character.

Tuesday 27th
The weather had determined our path, it was back to Trousers Point. Paddling back across the rocky outcrops of Cape Frankland provided a challenge to stay in against the rock faces and to sneak through gaps sometimes finding ourselves in amongst breaking swells. Adrenaline Plus and the need to stay switched on and ever alert for the next swell was soon realised . Laurie denied hitting a rock but from my angle I thought I saw him surf a swell breaking over a large rock, later he was found to have a broken rudder. What’s your decision??? We paddled past the mysterious egg beach, all the rocks here are round like a ball, but none were small enough to put into our kayaks. We departed and sailed directly across Marshall’s Bay and into Wybalenna, a camping area near the old jetty. We soon set up camp and Laurie was busy fibre glassing his rudder, and what a good job he did. The local Ranger soon joined us and gave Jeff, John and I a lift to the old Wybalenna Settlement. In 1835 George Augustus ROBINSON brought most of the remaining Tasmania’s aboriginals to Wybalenna with a promise of sanctuary, and his aim was to educate them. Over one hundred, almost half, died there of illnesses or sheer home sickness for their own territory. The Aboriginal population was later moved to Oyster Bay. Wybalenna is listed as a site of significant historical interest. In 1973 the original Wybalenna Chapel was restored by the National Trust of Flinders Island. We inspected the cemetery and chapel, the numerous bricks identified the sites where buildings once laid.

Walking back to our camp site we began to wonder what the site originally looked like. Bricks were scattered amongst the trees and several hairy nosed wombats had taken up occupancy. A walk along the beach and I found two mutton bird eggs in amongst the grass at the top of the dunes.

The evenings entertainment consisted of watching a local fisherman refuelling his boat moored at the beach and heading towards Prime Seal Island. We were woken in the early hours about 5.00am, by the same fisherman returning and singing whilst unloading his boat.

Wednesday 28th
Departed Wybalenna to Whitemark, paddling all the way. When about a kilometre off shore Laurie turned and faced out to sea, I stopped and could hear a noise - the wind starting to pick up. By this time Laurie already had both his sails up, I had my front sail up and was attempting to tie off the sail behind my back when all hell broke loose. The wind had picked up and was blowing at about 40 knots plus, my front sail swung 180 degrees and was not working. My back sail was flapping in the wind but the force of the wind on the back sail was causing me to make a little way but not very much. Laurie disappeared in the distance passing John and Jeff who were well ahead, he was flying along. All that I could do was have my paddle out and brace to stop turning turtle. The depth of water in this area was about a metre and for a moment I had a brief thought of putting my head in the sand. Eventually I got my back sail down and made good use of my front sail and I soon got ashore but not before we were all trapped in a tropical down-pour of rain. We quickly grabbed our dry bags with our clothes and climbed the local sale yards and into a warehouse. The Manager watched our entire adventure and could not believe his eyes, he soon took pity and allowed us to change in his warehouse and even minded our gear while we again checked out the sites of Whitemark. The gutters were pouring with water and resembled rivers, then there was hail followed by a thunder and lightning show. A brief stop at the pub for a drink and game of pool, followed by shopping in the supermarket, Laurie bought out all the coke to have with his diet of peanut butter and biscuits. And of course we could not forget the beautiful bakery.

Then onto Trouser Point - the wind had dropped off but the lightning and thunder ensured I did not put my sail up. My paddle had an aluminium shaft covered with fibre glass and for this reason I kept my paddle down.

Into Fotheringate Bay for a brief stop and photograph of Strzelecki Peak. Then out and around the large rocky outcrop which by now had a large swell rebounding off the rocks and the washing machine effect was at its best. On entering Trousers Point I cut the corner, to be followed by three large swells, my sea kayak felt small by comparison and I decided to give the corner a wider berth. We set up camp and listened to the weather forecast with the report that winds would be abating and only light winds were predicted.

Thursday 1st
February - The Weather Bureau was wrong, the wind if anything had picked up and our trip to Chappell Island was going to be a real slog to say the least. Jeff & John suggested we take a walk to Big River. We left by the beach and cut through the bush to a four wheel drive track. We were all alert and on the look out for snakes, I had heard stories of tiger snakes being aggressive. John was leading the way followed by Jeff and me. I am a little apprehensive of snakes and I was being very cautious, jumping at the odd noise on occasions reaching a metre in height. It became a standard joke that I would need counselling. I dropped back a little and was checking either side of the track. Suddenly a two metre tiger snake jumped aggressively onto the track behind Jeff and attempted to bite him behind the back of his knee. The only words I could muster were “watch out” Jeff ran forward. The tiger snake declared his territory while I watched until he/she meandered off into the bush. I then streaked past and told Jeff how lucky he had been. We eventually found Big River and an old homestead and began our long walk back by the road this time. We were walking back in the middle of the road and suddenly I heard a vehicle directly behind and I leapt to the side of the road, I was not able to warn John or Jeff as my heart was in my mouth much to the delight of the passengers on the tourist bus. The bus stopped and offered us a lift, a family from Adelaide who were bush walking around the Island, of course we accepted and were dropped off at the Trouser Point turn off. There was the odd patch of rain and surely the weather forecast of abating winds would be right.

Friday 2nd
Wrong, the wind was the same - Laurie woke us early after it blew all night. We headed off to Chappell Island against a four metre swell with the odd big set of 2/3 waves which I estimated to be seven metres tall based on me paddling seven strokes to get to the crest. The tops of the waves were breaking but only at the top fortunately. John was hit by one of the larger waves and capsized. Laurie helped John back in and Jeff and I moved forward to keep an eye out for any big waves. John was paddling before another big wave came through.

The thought crossed my mind of who would fall out next as the conditions were not the best. It is funny that at a time of high danger you are compelled to think more positive thoughts. But I needed to concentrate on the job at hand. Even more so when Chappell Island disappeared off the radar screen, courtesy of a heavy down-pour of rain. John and Jeff were the first to get to the lee of Chappell Island. Laurie was kind enough to keep an eye on me. My left shoulder was beginning to cramp and my strokes were becoming slower. Prior to making the lee of Chappell I saw a penguin in the water and could not resist the opportunity to take a photograph.

Into the lee, we all landed and armed ourselves, I found a large piece of drift wood as did John, while Laurie used his paddle, and Jeff his mast. You see Chappell Island is the home of the largest tiger snakes in the world and the island has the highest population of snakes per area of land also. The Island was named by Flinders after his wife Ann CHAPPELL who never got to see the Island.

We climbed up the north-east face of Mount Chappell, Laurie assured us the view would be worth the trouble. There was the odd rain-drop and it was early in the morning and cold. Cape Barren geese and Pacific gulls were flying around and not a snake to be seen? Thank goodness. I took up a position at the rear and followed in Jeff’s foot steps. We got to the top and the view was magnificent, Badger Island and Goose Island were in the distance while the mainland of Flinders could also be seen.

I was not prepared for the next group decision. Laurie insisted we go down amongst the Mutton bird rookery - after all we hadn’t seen a snake. It was not long before we had seen five tiger snakes but who’s counting? I was watching Laurie lead the charge of the light brigade only to see him jump and stumble backwards with his hands in the air, I knew our first snake had been sighted. The next trick was watching Laurie fall down the mountain, somersault, and immediately jump to his feet. I knew he had hurt himself but there was no way he would show that, and there was another tiger snake coming out of a mutton bird nest in front of him. Every now and then one of us would have the ground underneath give way which made for a little more excitement.

After we made it down the mountain we managed to see more snakes around the grass tussocks. We returned to our boats and were off to Badger Island, the tide moves swiftly in this area and the bottom is shallow with large rocky outcrops causing waves to break suddenly. Badger island was amongst blue water and had a sandy beach, more like a tropical oasis. Upon landing we were off walking to explore the Island. I was the first to spot two of the local residents, two metre tiger snakes one of which was moving in my direction, I jumped and moved away. This caused the snake to complete a “U” turn and head back in to some grass tussocks. We inspected Lucy BEEDON’s grave, and the old homestead established after the second world war. I was inside the farm house and when Jeff opened the front door the sound of the rubber flap across the floor caused me to jump two metres, much to Jeff’s amusement.

Whilst circled around the fire on the beach, we saw Alf STACKHOUSE’s yacht arrive and stay on anchor over night, Alf has the lease and has sheep on the Island. The weather and tide did not allow him to tie up at the jetty, and he headed off in the morning without coming ashore.

Saturday 3rd
Awoke early overlooking the water and saw a large fish moving in the water just out from the beach. A shark? No, a pod of dolphins, John had witnessed them jumping out of the water doing somersault’s with the sun coming up. The minute he grabbed his camera they stopped. It was a beautiful sunrise with a bright red sky. The wind had dropped and we decided to visit Goose Island, where we landed on rocks and inspected the Island including an old hut built as a safe haven for ship-wreck survivors. The Island has a lot of history including an early story of two light house keeps rowing out to get supplies because a child was sick, only to strike difficulties when heading back against the tide, the family tried to communicate with the ship to return and help. The rowing boat was later found over-turned and one light house keeper had drowned after being entangled in rope, the second light house keeper could not be found. A search of Badger island failed to find him, a boat was used to row around the Island. Unfortunately no one went ashore, the Light house keepers body was found at a later time under a tree near the shore with a broken leg. Another story of a wife leaving Goose island after her husband died and living the rest of her life on Green Island a short distance away.

We waited for the tide to change and then onto Boxen Island and then to Cape Barren, Laurie returned to Boxen to retrieve my sun glasses I had left behind. Thunder and Lightning Bay were magnificent with their rocky outcrops. Landed on a beach at Cape Barren, and there was a fresh water spring bubbling in amongst the sand. Some of the rocky coves were the best I have seen during this trip. Onto Preservation Island and our hopes of staying in a farm house were dashed when the owners were there on holiday. We climbed the hill on Preservation Island and enjoyed the view of Rum Island.

We reflected on the history of these islands, in 1796, 80 yrs old Captain Guy HAMILTON was in charge of the Sydney. Cove carrying 7,000 gallons of rum travelling from Calcutta to Sydney - the ship was sinking and was beached on the narrow channel between Preservation and Rum Islands. The crew managed to salvage sails for tents, firearms, rice, fowls, and a cow, and established themselves on Preservation Island and the rum was stored on Rum Island. The nearest source of help was Sydney and seventeen of the crew took the long boat. Leaving on the 27th of February, three days later the boat was wrecked on the ninety mile beach. The walk to Sydney and attacks by natives took their toll - by the 14th of May only five remained, two were exhausted and were killed by aboriginals when left behind, and three made it back to Sydney to raise the alarm. This led to an invasion and settlement of the Flinders Island area by Convicts after the cargo of rum, and by sealers after the many seals seen by the survivors.

We investigated Preservation Island and found a pound and a signal fire, perhaps established all that many years ago by the crew of the Sydney Cove. We slept on the beach and a field mouse kept me awake most of the night.

Sunday 4th
An early start with the tide as we departed Preservation by Rum Island and onto Rebecca Bay on Clarke Island to wait for the tide to cross Banks Strait. A trip I knew was going to be a pain, I took the opportunity to lunch on a rocky outcrop - coke, biscuits and peanut butter. We headed off into the tidal currents and saw steep chop as we entered Banks Strait towards Cape Portland. The water resembled a washing machine during the spin dry cycle. I put one sail up but due to the tidal chop I was not confident at having two sails up. About a kilometre from the Cape I was tiring rapidly and Laurie offered a tow, I refused but he hooked up his tow line in any case. This certainly encouraged me to lift my rating. Sighting other fishing boats in the strait and the surprised look of their crews was memorable. Landing in a cove we all got out of our boats and rested. I very much appreciated the tow. My diagnoses - “Banks Strait sucks.” It should not be under-estimated and I believe it is one of the worst patches of water I have ever paddled. We paddled the 8 kilometres to Little Musselroe. The tide had changed and was pushing us along the coast with frequents sets of white water and large tidal chop.

On reaching Little Musselroe the river was racing out, making for an interesting battle up the entrance as I was initially swept sideways.

The trip was over, memorable, good company, a remarkable contrast with wind varying mainly from Easterly changing to Westerly. The difficult sections I believe was sufficient to test even the best of us. An experience fisherman made the comment to me before my trip “Flinders Island is the place where they invented wind” and he was right.