Our plan was that Tony was going to try to radio their position through sometime Wednesday so we would have some idea of where to start looking for them along the coast. By Tuesday they still hadn’t made Maatsuyker, and were having a rest day on De Witt Island, so just on the off chance the weather may be kind, I started some enquiries into the landing situation on Maatsuyker. I rang the lighthouse and found that maybe a canoe could be landed next to the landing stage, but that Dept of Transport permission was required. This was news to me but a phone call to the Dept confirmed that every individual had to apply for permission to land.

WEDNESDAY.
After picking up Justin our last call was to the Dept of Transport where we glanced through the forms, filled them out, and shot through, getting very doubtful looks from Mr. Doherty as we went. It was only a later chat with him after the trip that I really understood the true position the Dept is in. A two hour drive to Cockle Creek saw us with the usual gear spread over a large area of beach. The Longboat had a foot-long split in the back compartment from bouncing around on the roof-rack on the rough road, but three strips of plastic tape made a temporary repair, and by 1650 we were off, farewelled by one small boy. The plan was to get to South Cape Rivulet that night which is possible under all but the worst conditions, and indeed although we struck a fresh southerly from Second Lookout Point, and a moderate swell, we slugged into it to SE Cape and then loped across the bay to the western end of the beach and the camp-site. Our rushed training programme hadn’t allowed time to show Pete how to handle big surf, this being his first ever sea trip, and he nosedived down a big one close to the beach and came out in a few feet of water. Fortunately there were quite a few bushwalkers there and one group immediately offered hot water and their fire. It was just on dark and we lost no time in getting our one tent up and cooking tea.

THURSDAY
This day dawned cloudless and windless, and after chatting with the bushwalkers and discovering mutual acquaintances we set off at 0950. If the others hadn’t yet been to Maatsuyker then this was the day they would go, so we decided to have a go ourselves, looking at a 22 1/2 nautical mile paddle, 17 miles of it being very open and exposed. The conditions were magic and we pushed on as quickly as possible, resting every two hours for a few minutes, until just before 1500 a fresh NW sprang up in our face. We were close to Flat Top and Round Top and it was just as easy to continue on as it was to go anywhere else so we put our heads down and pushed on. For hours and hours Maatsuyker hadn’t seemed to be getting much closer, or South Cape much further away, but we knew it was only 4 1/2 miles to go and nothing was stopping us at this stage. Round Top and Flat Top are riddled with holes and caves and almost looked as though they are standing on stilts. It was nearby here that we paddled through thousands of mutton birds on the water, and they were nearly within paddle reach, not really flying off till we were right on them.

Landed on thick kelp alongside the jetty at 1550, a marathon 6 hour stint, and after cooking dinner and putting the tent up on the jetty we climbed the steep haulage-way and walked round to the lighthouse to report in. Here we were told the others had been across early in the day from De Witt and left a mere hour before we arrived - so near and yet so far. With the rising wind we had no intention of chasing after them today, and in any case by the time the Head Lighthouse Keeper Gil Burns had showed us over the lighthouse, and given us some interesting history and other details of life on the island it was getting on for dark. Gil and Pete Christie then drove us back to the haulage-way in the Landrover, and Gil accompanied us down to the jetty. This haulage-way is a beauty, rising sheer up from the landing stage, two tracks side by side, both with a trolley connected to each end of the same cable - one goes up as the other one goes down. I certainly don’t envy the old-timers putting this in, a mammoth task even today. Then on top of that they had the job of carting all the materials for the lighthouse and three houses up to the top, and then round to the other side of the island. Gil had told us that the wind would be gusting into the gulch but I had difficulty believing this, it seemed so sheltered from anything from a westerly direction, but halfway down we could see the tent was now flat on the ground, or the jetty to me more precise. The wind was screaming round the point near Walkers Island and veering straight into the jetty, whipping spray off the water and driving it up the cliffs. Although we had tied the tent guys under the planks on the jetty the tent had lifted enough to drop the poles out. Gil offered to take all our gear up the haulage way and round to the back lawn of No 3 house, but it’s a difficult job with so many small individual containers and we decided to stay put, so we were told to feel free to use the empty boatshed if we felt like it, and that there was fresh water in a tank by one of the buildings at the top of the haulage way. We moved straight into the boatshed and although there was water running across half the floor, three wooden pallets covered most of this. Most of the shore is inhabited by seals and we were told they often use the jetty as well, but to keep away from them as they are producing their offspring. Apparently the afterbirth attracts large numbers of sharks and we were warned to be wary of swimming as well - a friendly little spot. We went along the rocks a little way but were quickly chased back by a seal.

That night the wind kept increasing and we were none to sure the shed was going to stay put, and it was very easy to imagine the waves washing over the jetty as Gil had described. Even the cars on the haulage way are left 100 metres up the track to be out of reach of the swell

FRIDAY
A strong wind warning, the barometer still dropping like a stone, the wind still driving walls of spray round the point. It varied during the day from NW to SW and back again, sometimes coming into the gulch, sometimes going straight past, and after a few hours inaction I borrowed Pete’s Splinter and went out to see what the true conditions were like away from the land. Had a hell of a job getting clear of the gulch but once outside it wasn’t too bad and I continued across to Flat Witch Island and then out into the main channel. It was relatively easy going and I could have made Louisa Bay without any trouble so I returned to Maatsuyker.
Pete and Justin weren’t convinced it was as easy as I made out, but after dinner we decided to give it a go. Unfortunately the wind had increased still further and veered into the gulch even more, and we paddled for about 20 minutes and only gained about 200 metres. I capsized while coming back to snap the tow-rope onto Pete but just managed to roll up and eventually got Pete under tow just as Justin decided it was no use and turned back. I then let Pete go and found the tow-rope had broken the wooden bar across the top of my rudder. It was an old unvarnished piece of hardwood that should have been replaced months ago, being severely weather-beaten, but was one of those little things that never seem to get done. Gil claims that whatever the wind is in the open sea, it doubles in strength as it curls round into the gulch and I found it impossible to turn up into the wind - at least 65 knots, and had to paddle into the lee of a large rock down wind from the landing stage. From here I made short 50 yard dashes from rock to rock before being blown ashore each time. I was out of sight of the others and they thought I had just gone off for a paddle, little realising the desperate situation. Coming out from behind one rock a squall about 100 yards long and 100 yards deep hit me, and you have to paddle into these with your eyes shut. This one blew me side on and capsized me before I knew what had happened and I failed to roll, the wind putting me straight back in again. I swam the Longboat about 6 yards back in behind the rock again and switched on the electric pump to empty the cockpit before getting back in again. These were definitely the worst conditions I’ve ever been in, but I eventually arrived back about an hour after the others. The rest of the day was spent sitting around watching the weather worsen, Gil arrived about 1600 to tell us the barometer was still falling.

That night the wind was even worse, and kept us awake for hours. Even though the canoes were stacked between the shed and the cliff, about 0200 in the morning it sounded as though they were starting to shift and we had to jump up and check them out. Heavy showers were also a feature of our stay on Maatsuyker, and inside the tin shed was like the inside of a kettle drum.

SATURDAY
This day dawned exactly the same as yesterday, except the forecast on the radio was now for a gale warning for all southern water. It was a good day for minor repairs and after carving a new rudder bar I glassed a patch on the temporary repaired split, and reinforced a thin patch on the keel that many sandy beaches had started to wear away.

We then sat half way up the haulage way where we could see the conditions all round, and it still didn’t look too bad if we could only clear the gulch. However they weren’t to be tempted so I went off by myself to check the conditions out. The wind, although still driving the spray round the point was not as bad as yesterday and it was quite easy to get up to Walker’s Island against it, and then have a mad run back. I did this a few times, and tried out the sail a couple of times, before going ashore again. Pete and Justin weren’t impressed, and reckoned I was a good candidate for the funny farm.

Gil dropped in to see us and invite us up for tea and Saturday night movies. All their supplies come in every two weeks by helicopter, except diesel fuel and coal briquettes which are shipped in once a year, and the state library sends films along with the other supplies. We had a beautiful hot dish whipped up by Gil’s wife Melita, and checked the lighthouse out again when doing one of the three hourly weather reports. We had coke, coffee, and other refreshments while watching the films, and then Gil told us more about the history of the island, and showed us a few photos. It’s obviously not the dull boring life many people imagine, and we could have spent many hours listening to Gil’s stories, but it was beginning to get dark and we returned down the haulage way, with the encouraging news that the barometer was rising. Back on the jetty we found a few penguins wandering about climbing over the canoes, and caught one little fellow for a closer look in a plastic bag, before gently depositing him back on the rocks.

SUNDAY
The night had been still compared to the previous two and the sea looked much better, with fewer white caps, the wind being down to a light breeze. It was now or never so we were on the water by 0745 and after clearing the island found we had a light westerly pushing us along and decided on the direct route again. We studied the clouds very carefully but they were practically motionless, with no indication anywhere of unsettled conditions.

We stopped for a rest and sponge out after three hours, the swell gradually building up to about 15 ft, indicating a LOW away to the SW somewhere, but conditions still looked good. The shore was almost hidden in the rain at times, but none came this far out. It was getting to the stage where you could catch a wave now and then if you paddled hard enough, but the swells gradually increased till off South Cape they were uncomfortable, and we thought about pulling in to South Cape Rivulet again. This wasn’t a real alternative as once you are trapped ashore anywhere along here in a big SW swell you could be there for days. Fortunately it only seemed to be a local patch just off South Cape, and was better across to SE Cape, but not before Pete and I both caught the same wave, a real beauty, he coming to the right and I going to the left, and he ploughed straight into the back half of my canoe, very nearly putting me in, and capsizing himself. I started to back paddle for a rescue but was amazed to see him roll up, I didn’t even think he’d attempt it in these conditions. We were broaching a fair bit in the now big seas, and a couple of times when I asked Pete if he was OK I got the answer “Sort of”. It was obviously unpleasant for anyone not used to sea canoeing, but a better alternative than a few more days on Maatsuyker, or going ashore anywhere. SE Cape was rounded with less trouble than I anticipated, and as we got closer to Whale Head it was easy to notice the slight easing of conditions. Once past Whale Head the pressure was off and we had more frequent stops in much smoother waters. At one stop just before Second Lookout Point a large school of Dolphins came round the point heading south, but even though we paddled hard inshore in an attempt to meet them, they raced past a hundred yards away, at least 20 or 30 being in the air at any one time, a beautiful sight. It was far the largest number any of us had ever seen and it was a pity they were in such a hurry. Their speed was unbelievable and they came and went in about 60 seconds. We carried on at a much slower pace and eventually were greeted on the beach by the small boy that saw us off, exactly nine hours after leaving Maatsuyker.

While we were unpacking, Pamela and Katherine Butorac arrived to meet their mother and raced down to find out where the others were. While we were on Maatsuyker we had heard they were in Rocky Boat Inlet on Friday and it was now apparent they were probably still trapped in there. This made us smile a bit and even though it had been a long, hard, uncomfortable day it appeared we had made the right decision.

Before heading home we got in the back of the bus and put a billy on the gaz stove for a hot milo, and a few biscuits and chocolate, little enough reward for such an effort.

Pete and Justin were great to paddle with, and I’d welcome them on any future trip anywhere, but I get the feeling that they may never go to sea again. However that’s what sea canoeing is all about, going when and where the weather dictates, and we just happened to be in the right place at the right time.

My thanks to June & Geoff Pedley, Wendy Godfrey, Jim Lester, and Kelvin Jawett for their fire at South Cape Rivulet the first night, it was extremely welcome, and they were a great bunch to meet up with. Thanks to Gil, Melita, and Peter for putting up with us on Maatsuyker, it was a very enjoyable stay, and I’ll be back one of these days. Thanks again to Justin for coming along and making a really enjoyable trip. Even though the Splinter is a 15 ft ex down-river racer, and the Longboat and Greenlander are 20 and 18 ft sea kayaks, we had no trouble travelling at a common speed and never looked like getting separated under any of the conditions we encountered.

EPILOGUE: Back at work Monday I dropped into the Dept of Transport to get a copy of the form we signed, and I reproduce it here:-

DEPARTMENT OF TRANSPORT
VICTORIA/TASMANIA REGION
TASMANIA BRANCH

I, the undersigned, having applied to visit an island lightstation as stated in the schedule hereby agree to undertake such visit upon the following conditions:-

1.  That I will be responsible for, pay all costs and make all  arrangements for transport to and from the lightstation.
2.  That whilst on the lightstation I will at all times subject myself to the  lawful directions and instructions of the Head Lightkeeper or his  representative.
3.  That I will provide my own tent accommodation and locate it as  directed by the Head Lightkeeper.
4.  That I will provide my own domestic equipment, food and water.
5.  That I will maintain the camp-site in neat and tidy condition for the  duration of the stay.
6.  That I will not enter upon any of the lightstation buildings without  the permission of the Head Lightkeeper or without the company  of the Head Lightkeeper or his representative.
7.  That I for myself and for my executors and administrators will  indemnify the Commonwealth from and against all liability, and  all actions, proceedings, claims, demands, costs and expenses in  connection with my visit to the lightstation arising in respect of  death, personnel injury, delay or loss of, or damage to property  caused to me during my visit and whether caused by the  negligence of the Commonwealth or in any way due to any act of  neglect or default on its part.

In this document “the Commonwealth” means the Commonwealth of Australia and includes its officers, servants and agents, and “Assistant Director, Tasmania” means the Assistant Director, Tas, Dept of Transport, 11 Elizabeth St, Hobart, Tasmania. 7000.

  Signature....................................
  Date............................................
  Witness.......................................
Page 2 then includes details of which lightstation you intend to visit, the duration of the visit, transport details, purpose of visit, and your full name and address.

This applies to all islands with lighthouses, including Tasman, which may surprise a few canoeists. I had a long talk with Mr Doherty and he explained that this is only an application, and permission maybe refused, and quite often is. The Dept obviously can’t afford to be rescuing people stranded in these places, and gives very serious consideration before granting permission. No wonder they looked askance when we dashed in and out with a half baked plan for getting there. For further information contact Mr Doherty, who you will find very helpful. And if you decide to go to Maatsuyker be prepared to paddle in most conditions, or spend a lot of time ashore.