Scribe: Sue Shearman
After battling tiredness, hunger (assuaged by a box of BBQ shapes), wallabies bouncing all over the road, I was suddenly overtaken by a maniac in a red subaru. As he hurtled passed I realised there was a red sea kayak on the roof - had to be Phil. Good to see that the old subarus are still capable of such speed. Laurie was already having his beauty sleep when we arrived at the Strahan Campsite at Regatta Point, (I suppose we were well past his bedtime) but welcomed us to the soon-to-be-lashed-with-rain-and-wind picnic shelter. Martin arrived soon after, having had a slow trip in an engine recently converted to gas. This was a club trip for the long weekend, but as Laurie and I had a bit of extra time we decided to make it a week long.

I woke after a restless night to find Phil's feet in my face and a wet, windy and dreary day. The first challenge was getting Martin in a sea kayak - the Sea Leopard seemed a bit too tight so tried all the others. However with a bit of footrest manipulation he was able to squeeze himself in and we set off into the rain and a strong southerly wind.

Our first stop was at the Yellow Cliffs where a fire was lit to warm up a bit before heading across to the other side of Macquarie Harbour. After gaining some deeper water we put up our sails to make the most of the side wind. As it was a bit gusty and choppy I must admit I was a bit apprehensive at first but after starting to gain some speed this was lost completely - Martin, who had never used sails before seemed to have no trouble putting his up and was soon flying along too.

As the day had improved somewhat we decided to go out through Hells Gates to Pilot Beach for a look at the wild West Coast. Phil tried to show me the art of looking-relaxed-while-sailing which I don't think I have mastered yet compared with him! The scenery was absolutely ideallyic with blue seas, rocky outcrops with lighthouses, mountains in the distance..... Someone else obviously thought the same we discovered, when we came across "Geoff's Sugar Shack" complete with Westpac Bank neon signs. Unfortunately we didn't get to meet Geoff. The surf on the west coast was truly horrifying - Laurie and Phil discussed potential ways of coming in through such monsters, but I must admit I just felt a bit bilious at the thought! I suppose if I was incredibly lucky I may have made it through the first lot of breakers, but through a few sets? - wishful thinking!

Getting back through Hells Gates was slightly harder than our outgoing journey - a narrow outlet and an outgoing tide were against us and some fast paddling around each corner was needed to get back into the harbour. All in all it made for a long day by the time we finally pitched the tents at Wellington Head and settled down for the evening. T'was a quiet and early night that first night - lulled by the warmth of a campfire, a beautiful sunset, some stories and a few drams of Green Ginger Wine.

A sunny and warm day dawned and we set off relatively early towards Sarah Island - past a couple of the salmon ponds and closely following the coastline. According to one of the workers the ponds, and therefore the salmon, are moved around in the harbour according to where the feed is the best. However instead of making the poor things get tired with swimming that far, they are transported separately. I suppose nobody wants to eat a fit skinny salmon. The day was conducive to a slow and leisurely paddle (as were the shoulders) and thus didn't get as far as Laurie's proposed destination of Braddon River via Sarah Island. However we camped on the sheltered Steadmans beach where the afternoon was spent sleeping, eating, talking, swimming and fighting over the best campsites (Well done Phil!)

The following day started early for Phil and Martin who headed back to Strahan at dawn as the latter had a Spanish class to take that evening back in Hobart. They paddled straight back across the harbour and as the sun glinted off the kayaks we were able to see them for ages. With such an early start we arrived at Sarah Island well before the first tour boat and spent an hour or so wandering around the ruins and reading all about the history. National Parks and the Strahan population have maintained the island well and it made for an interesting ramble. There is now a theatre company set up in Strahan who perform a play called the "Ship That Never Was." - for those of you who don't know the history, Sarah Island was one of the largest boat building yards in the southern hemisphere using the abundant and good timber. It was also one of the harshest internment camps in Tasmania where prisoners, to escape the oppressive regime, would commit crimes in order to be transported to Hobart and executed. One of the ships that was made there was stolen by a group of convicts and sailed to Chile where I think a couple gave themselves up and were transported back to Tasmania. It really is an amazing story of courage and adventure - they had obviously been planning the act since the boat was started to be built as with falsifying the records the ship never actually existed. The island apparently was completely denuded of trees, and huge wind-stopping barricades had to be built. However, with the sun shining and a gentle breeze it was hard to imagine the place other than a beautiful fern and forest clad island.

We made a quick getaway as soon as the tour boat arrived and sailed on a gentle following-wind to the mouth of the Gordon River. We didn't have a chance this trip to explore Birch Inlet so will have to plan another trip into this area. The river was far more beautiful than I had expected - lots of inquisitive platypi, herons, ducks and an incredible range of smells from the flowers and trees. I had borrowed from Sarah Boyle a history of the Gordon, detailing where all the original cabins, lime kilns, logging camps etc used to be. Some were interesting but a few consisted of sheets of iron only. The tour boats are only allowed as far as Heritage Landing so Laurie made the most of showing off his sail prior to then. We camped the first night at the top end of Limekiln Reach (after being told by some unhelpful fisherman there were no camping spots until Sir John Falls) surrounded by a glorious collection of Myrtles. It was a soft bed that night. There is a track from this corner that leads to the Franklin River and was used by the piners to gain easier access to the Franklin rather than battling numerous rapids.

So enthused was I by the beauty of the place that when Laurie returned from an early morning perambulation I was finishing breakfast and was raring to go and the time was only about 6.30am! Needless to say he seemed rather shocked (and to my mirth forgot to pack away all his gear leaving some on the deck to be discovered later!) The morning was too good to be missed - a thick mist making the Gordon mysterious but tranquil. From here the Gordon became much more narrow with interesting cliffs and lush vegetation. By lunchtime we were passed Middle Island and arrived at Sir John Falls where, while I had a siesta, Laurie mended a part of his footrest. So much for Greenlanders being the only boats with these problems! The second rapid beyond the falls proved to be a bit too strong for me so we didn't make it to the junction of the Gordon/Franklin as planned and thus headed back down the river towards the Marble Cliffs. After searching for a campsite Laurie found one up a steep bank which meant hauling the kayaks up there too - I knew there was a reason for inviting him along on the trip!

The next day was a leisurely one, being at our destination near the mouth of the Gordon easily by lunch and deciding to stop there rather than battle strong winds in the harbour. Sailing the following day proved to be great fun as from the Gordon the wind allowed us to sail right into Kelly Basin. The mountains behind, especially Mt Sorell, were an inspiring backdrop. Apart from a couple of jetties and railway tracks there isn't much left of the township (Pillinger) which existed because of the copper found in the hills behind. The facilities provided for the hut were quite disappointing as the newly made dunny hung directly over the water. One wouldn't want to have a welcoming committee with the trots! We paddled into a head wind most of the way to Braddon River via Farm Cove which wasn't nearly as beautiful as Kelly Basin- interestingly enough when the wind whips up across the harbour it seems to produce lots of foam and whitecaps - more than you would otherwise expect - ?due to the tannins from the rivers. Unfortunately on Philip Island we didn't find any vegies (used to be the garden for Sarah Island) as I was hoping to supplement my disgusting Fasta Pasta meals with a feral cabbage or a few beans! (Instead I had to resort to a tin of Spaghetti from the hut!) Speaking of the hut - it really is a fantastic spot. Many families use it as their summer shack and as a result it is well maintained and full of character. Great as it was, I still preferred my tent (with a mattress from the hut within) to Lauries snoring and Sao crunching.

Another early start saw a whispy sunrise over the mountains and still conditions. There was supposed to be a westerly wind all day but the forecasters were wrong and we had a SE wind instead. It seemed too good to be true, and sure enough, as I was sailing along my rudder suddenly fell off! It was possible to put it back on initially, but as the thread had been damaged it soon fell off again. (Bloomin' Greenlanders!!) I soon learned that sailing without a rudder can be hard work and finally paddled most of the way while His Nibbs sat back admiring the womanly curves on his sail!

A change of clothes later and a feed at the local bakery had us on our separate ways. It was a most enjoyable trip, fantastic weather and company. Only one grumble, I just wish I had made more time to organise a more appetising selection of food - I'll have to cater better for the Flinders Island trip or I will die of starvation!!