Port Davey & Maatsuyker Island
February 1997
Scribe: Jeff Jennings
Maatsuyker Island, South West Cape, Port Davey, names
that conjure up scenes of wild seas and voyagers battling the elements
in frail craft during Tasmania‘s early history. The only reliable human
presence in these waters were the lighthouse keepers who kept a constant
vigil for seafarers in distress.
As I gazed over towards the Needles from the balcony of the Maatsuyker Lighthouse, high above the dark waters of the Southern Ocean on Australia Day 1997, I realized that this was the end of an era. Chris Richter, leaning on the rail beside me, was the last official Maatsuyker lighthouse keeper.
He was retiring in about three weeks‘ time and although the island will be manned, the light is now automated and volunteers record the weather.
My paddling companions, Laurie Ford and Grant Hyland, all of the Maatsuyker Canoe Club, were no strangers to these waters. We had all visited Maatsuyker Island before on other club trips. Chris was no stranger either as we had stayed with him on Swan Island in 1985 when our sea canoeing party had to shelter from a 50knot storm while returning from a night paddle across Banks Strait to Preservation Island.
It was now the third day of our 500km paddle to Port Davey and Bathurst Harbour. We had started from Cockle Creek in Tasmania‘s south east with strong memories of an earlier expedition to Maatsuyker Island. On that trip in 1994, we had two attempts at rounding South East Cape. That same year over 60 yachts pulled out of the Sydney-Hobart yacht race because of huge seas. Toby Clark and I had been paddling a double kayak and been dumped and half drowned in the storm waves and currents at South Cape Rivulet. I can still see the waters growing darker above my head as huge waves pushed us deep beneath the surface. Momentarily, I watched silvery strands of bubbles stream lazily upwards in the dark water. Then for an eternity I struggled with lungs bursting, to reach the surface.
By comparison, the weather in 1997 was incredibly good.
After we rounded South East Cape, sails were hoisted and we paddled lazily
amongst the swells and foam beneath the black ramparts of Soldier Bluff,
South Cape and Shoemaker Point. With a freshening south easterly we hoisted
sails and enjoyed the majesty of the southern coast. Precipitous Bluff
dominated the skyline to the north after our brief stop at Rocky Boat Inlet.
This was not a place to dawdle, as two sea canoeists from Scotland found,
having smashed one of their kayaks in half some years ago.
The bushwalkers at Deadmans Cove could not believe that we had reached this idyllic camping spot in one day. They were even more surprised to find that we were carrying supplies for over two weeks, including 26 litres of Coke.
The second day revealed an even calmer sea over a bright blue sky. Crossing to Maatsuyker Island via De Witt was a twenty kilometre paddle that normally gets the adrenalin pumping with wind and waves combining to tip you out. This time we could sit back and enjoy the panorama of the whole south coast from east to west.
Beneath the dark cliffs of Maatsuyker and the Needles, we were entertained by hundreds of Australian and New Zealand fur seals. The video camera worked over-time above and below the waves recording their antics. It took a while to work out how to get the best shots. Pointing the camera at the seals caused them to dive quickly out of sight. Peering through the viewfinder at an empty sea, one had a sensation of being watched. A glance behind would reveal a mob of inquisitive faces looking at us. Grant suggested paddling backwards and, sure enough, the seals tagged on behind the kayak allowing me to get some good footage of the seals with the lighthouse in the distance. I don‘t know what the fishermen in the boat anchored nearby thought we were up to, paddling backwards between the rocks and cliffs.
Later on, after climbing the steep track near the old haulage way, the lighthouse keeper, drove us to the houses in a well maintained Suzuki 4WD. We were shown over the lighthouse and picked out South West Cape, our next major landmark en route to Port Davey. That night we enjoyed hot showers and a delicious meal courtesy of Chris.
The next afternoon, we left Maatsuyker in pouring rain, a reminder of how quickly the weather changes in the south west. The seals escorted our kayaks away from the island, their dark shapes smoothly porpoising alongside us until they tired of their new game. A wet but comfortable night at Ketchem Bay saw the wind and rain increase while we snuggled down in the warmth and comfort of our sleeping bags.
Tuesday morning was misty and wet. We donned extra clothing, checked our kayaks and set off for the Cape. Waves, rain and spray crashed down on us. Through the gloom we could see torrents of water cascading down the cliffs on Telopea Point. Sails were up and we forced our way along to South West Cape. This rocky bastion thrusting out into the Southern Ocean made an impressive backdrop to Laurie adjusting his two sails between the big swells.
The wind and seas quickly built up as we surfed down waves while watching waterfalls on the South West Range. This was the longest leg of the journey, 55 km to Schooner Cove nestled in the calm of Bathurst Harbour. We relaxed only after passing Big Caroline Rock, safe in the shelter of Spain Bay. At Schooner Cove we continued to enjoy the hospitality of other visitors in the area, firewood, courtesy of the yacht ”Mirabooka•.
While in the harbour, we stayed at Claytons, an old house now maintained by National Parks and volunteers. While we were establishing ourselves in the house, Par Avion‘s luxury cruiser tied up at the jetty. The tourists on board were about to enjoy a sumptuous feed complete with champagne out in the wilderness. Their offer of a six pack of beer was gratefully accepted. Later that evening there was a knock on the door and in walked the chef, ”Hope you fellows are hungry. Do you think you could finish off this pavlova?•
On Wednesday we climbed Mt Rugby for a 360 degree view around the ranges and coastline of south west Tasmania. From the summit we watched Par Avion‘s luxury vessel, ”Southern Explorer• cruise the harbour and anchor below us in Bathurst Channel. A tiny plume of spray, curving out from the cruiser, marked the
progress of a party of tourists who were heading over to join us on the mountain. On a clear day this must be one of the most spectacular views in Australia: the black waters of the harbour streaked with lines of glistening white foam, Maatsuyker Island off to the south, Port Davey, Breaksea Island and the rugged cliffs of the south west coast to the west and the saw-toothed ranges of the South West National Park to the north. It was worth the short, steep climb, even in wet suit booties since I had foolishly left my sandshoes back at Claytons. In the bright sunlight we sat among the coarse grey crags of the summit, eating our cheese, peanut butter and salami while gazing down on the spectacle below.
As we paddled up the Melaleuca Inlet next day, the reflections were incredible. Laurie‘s bright red sprayjacket contrasted vividly with the dark tannin-stained waters of the inlet. Hauling our kayaks up onto the landing stage, we walked over to the airstrip and chatted with bushwalkers who were arriving or departing by plane. One party described how they had been unable to get to South West Cape because of the bad weather. We chuckled quietly to ourselves as this had been the day we rounded the Cape.
We sat in comfort and watched the Orange Bellied Parrots through a powerful telescope in the viewing area.
”Is Jeff Jennings out there?• boomed a voice as we were getting ready to clamber back into our kayaks. I looked up and recognized Bob Nurse, a former teacher, now working for Par Avion as a guide. What a small place we live in! Out here in the wilderness, thinking we were reliving the isolation and primitive conditions of the lives of people like Denny King and the early piners of Port Davey, we meet friends and acquaintances. Later at Claytons I asked Bob to ring my wife in Bridport to tell her we were all okay. I would have done this from Maatsuyker but unfortunately the phone was out at the time.
We were now more than half way through our expedition. With some reluctance we left the comforts of Claytons but not before all enjoying the luxury of a hot bath, separately as someone else had written in the interesting log book.
More reflections, paddle-grabbing rapids and sea eagles highlighted our trip up the Old River and back down the Bathurst Channel to Bramble Cove. This was the anchorage for the ship ”Bramble•, part of a little known expedition sent to observe the transit of Venus in the 1700‘s. They stayed in this snug little cove for over three months. Laurie cleaned out the water supply system and as a reward we used some of the chopped firewood that had been left there by thoughtful yachties.
We explored the caves and passages of Breaksea and Kathleen Islands on our way up to the Davey River. Friendly fishermen asked us if we needed any extra supplies as we chatted to them while asking for a weather report. We declined the kind offer as we were interested in reducing our remaining supplies in order to lighten our kayaks for the return journey back along the coast. We still had over half our Coke left!
Smooth sailing through the Davey Gorge was definitely one of the highlights of our trip. The day was warm and calm with just a slight following breeze. In fact it was so peaceful gliding up this wide river that at one stage I awoke to find the double heading rapidly straight for the bank. Turning round with the video camera to see Grant in the back also asleep. He was supposed to be steering!
This quiet river was once a busy thoroughfare for rafts of Huon Pine brought down through the Davey Gorge for transport to Hobart. We camped at Settlement Point and found bottles and pieces of pottery, reminders of the 90 people who once lived in this remote location. Across from the campsite Laurie found a delightful little ”gorge• with its own waterfall where we replenished our water supply and drank the cool clear water.
From Spain Bay, near the entrance to Port Davey, we prepared to set off back round the Cape. An early start saw us push out through the small swells between the islands that protect Port Davey. The sun rose and gradually cleared the sky of the low misty clouds. Caves near Hilliard Head emitted a low, mournful moan as we passed. Here we turned to head south. By the time we were at South West Cape, both sea and sky were a brilliant deep blue.
The Cape looked very different this time with towering slabs of stone tilted at crazy angles into the sea. The textures on the warm, red-brown rocks gleamed in the early morning sun as we rounded the Cape. A fishing boat passed us by, rolling heavily in the smooth blue swells. Mentally we all relaxed with the thought that we had been fortunate in to have ideal conditions while paddling along one of Australia‘s most exposed and notorious coasts. The rest of the return journey was going to be a breeze!
I took over nine hours of spectacular video on this trip. Later this year it will edited into a one hour video which will be available from Jeff Jennings, Bridport, or the Paddy Pallin shop in Hobart. This video will be part of a series of sea canoeing videos that have recorded trips to:-
Map of SW Wilderness Area, and route.
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