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Oceania » Australia » Tasmania » Cradle Mountain
February 7th 2007
Published: February 7th 2007
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Tasmania
And so on Thursday the 18th January we booked the ferry crossing to Tasmania, we would sail that night , we booked reclining seats , how long would it take for the crossing , 2 hours maybe ?…….it took that long to get out of the harbour , like everywhere over here it is further than you think eleven hours later we arrive , the sky is grey and we had been up most of the night as two others had fallen asleep in our allocated chairs.
To reach Tasmania we had to pass through the notorious rip, Bass Strait is a really narrow bottleneck and the confluence of three oceans , the Indian , the Great Southern and the Pacific , they flow one against another meeting in a strait which is rife with reefs , islands , and rock bound capes , it is called the graveyard of shipping, several aircraft have been lost here also, still somebody has to do it.
Tasmania was discovered by the Dutchman Abel Tasman in 1642. He named it Van Diemens Land, Van Diemen was the Governor of the Dutch East Indies ,the name was changed in 1855 to Tasmania. Abel
see two holessee two holessee two holes

who would you sit next to
was born in 1603 in a little village Lutjegast behind the dykes of Friesland , Tasman’s rise through the ranks was very fast starting as an ordinary seaman, within two years he became captain. Anthony Van Diemen chose Able Tasman to explore the southern hemisphere , and so the island was named in the Governor’s honour. You may well be asking why Holland did not add it to her vast empire, the answer is given by Sir William Temple , British ambassador to the Hague in the reign of Charles II, when he reported that ’’The Dutch East India Company had long since forbidden, and under it’s strictest penalties , any further attempts at discovering this continent, having more trade than they can turn to account, and that some more populous nation of Europe might make good establishments of trade .’’ so there you have it. Abel Tasman also discovered New Zealand , Tonga , and the Fiji Islands.
At eight o’clock Friday morning we pull up outside Jacquie and Sam’s , Jacquie is a cousin of Normans, we had met them 10 years ago in Queensland, they have since moved to Tasmania. They were pleased to see us ,
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middleton country fair
over breakfast they tell us they are going away that day to an Australian Caravan and Camping weekend would we care to join them ? And why not. They belong to one of the five chapters here on Tasmania, they are called the ‘’Van Demons ‘’…………………..
We do some quick shopping then follow them to a farm just outside the town of Sheffield. Sheffield is a small town that has gained the status of the Town of Murals , boasting 32. These are painted on the sides of buildings, one impressive one depicted a blacksmiths shop, it looked for all the world as if a wall had been removed and you could see inside.
We arrive at the field ,there are already about a dozen vans there, the view is stunning we are at the base of Rolland mountain a low cloud encircles the peak , it is as if somebody had been playing hoopla, we settle down outside our van , and in pairs the other campers come to meet us ,Jacquie introduces us ’’I’d like you to meet some friends of ours this is Jo and Dave, they are pomes from England ‘’,’’How are you going ?’’ we
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a fountain
hadn’t better mention the cricket had we ?’’ , we’d laugh make light conversation , ‘’yes we were up most of the night , yes we were tired , yes the team were crap.’’ and as more vans arrived the routine continued , at 4.o’clock we all assembled in a circle around the fire this was happy hour , announcements are made , and we would like to welcome our friends here from England , don’t mention the cricket.
After happy hour all repair to their vans to prepare dinner, after which they gather in smaller groups for the evening, Dave and I decline , we are having an early night as we are shattered. As we lie in the van we hear laughter , and chatter , and every one is pleased to see each other , news is caught up on , jokes told, this is the noisiest camp site we have been on , usually when the sun goes down campers repair to their vans and put the television on , Dave and I are usually the only people sat outside looking at the sky and waiting for a glimpse of the nocturnal wildlife, but here there
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george town tasmania
were 70 people enjoying each others company. The following morning we rise and they have been keeping quiet to allow us a lie in, now you are up what are you going to do ? Several are going fishing , I wish I had a rod I would join them , Sam offers me the use of his , Dawn gives me a worm and I retire to the bank of the creek that runs on two sides of the field, this is great. Several of these wonderful happy people pass and enquire ‘’how are you going , had a bite yet ?’’ alas no and after a while the worm disappears from my hook, I decide to go dig some of my own , as the ground is dry I am advised to walk down to where the cows are and look under some cow pats, this I do , but not before getting a poke from the electric fence that surrounds them . Armed with a good supply I follow the creek down to a bridge and launch my first worm and settle down after ten minutes I have a bite , but I fail to land it. I have no more bites by lunchtime and so return downhearted to the field , with every van I pass the cry goes up ,’’did you catch any fish ?’’ They really want to know you have. After lunch I am approached by a woman whose husband Terry had caught 10 mountain trout that morning he would show you how. And so Terry and I set off , first it’s no good trying with a worm , worms are alright for night time but for daytime you needed grasshoppers, he quickly caught three and put them on a hook , we approached a deep hole in the brook , and he showed me how to cast the line , flick , it landed right in the centre, let it sink , then wind it in, then flick, about the same place , let it sink , then wind it in , now it was my turn , flick tied round a bush on the far bank , wind it in , flick , got the branch of the tree above me , flick got the back of my jumper , Terry decided we had better go to a bigger waterhole with less trees and bushes surrounding it for me to practice, I got the hang of it then moved on to the smaller holes. He would come and ‘see how I was going later‘. Eventually I got the hang of it , not necessarily in the middle of the waterhole but at least in the water. Terry did come back and yes I was doing fine. Eventually the grasshoppers had , had enough and so I now had to catch a grasshopper , I could see them jumping, but by the time I put my glasses on to home in on them they had hopped off, I never did catch one but it was raining harder now , I was soaked to the skin and so called it a day , it was nearly happy hour anyway , I had really enjoyed myself even though there would not be fish on the menu that night , fortunately Jacquie had cooked a chicken, we joined them for dinner and then spent a lovely evening in one of the groups laughing and chatting. ( I expect you are wondering what Dave did all day well he joined the rest of the over sixties reliving their youth’s. )The next morning we headed off for the coast at the top end we would start our journey at Penguin and go around the island anti-clockwise the scenery was stunning, farming land on the left of us and rugged coast on the right. The weather was cold with intermittent showers . We stopped at Crayfish Creek overnight the next morning heading for Stanley, here we visited the headquarters of the London based Van Dieman’s land company , which was granted a charter to settle and cultivate circular head and the north west of Tasmania , the house had been built by convicts , next we took a chairlift up the side of the head , the views were endless , the sun came out, the seas that yesterday were grey were now a turquoise blue edged with white sandy beaches , where a few hardy souls were taking a dip. After an exhilarating walk around the head we retired to an hotel in Stanley for dinner. We then travelled through Smithton to Murrawah, then north for over 40 klms on a dirt road heading for Cape Grim , named by Matthew Flinders , who discovered in 1798, that Tasmania was indeed an island and not part of Australia. Matthew Flinders also named the rough stretch of water between the island and Australia the Bass Strait after George Bass , the ships surgeon. We came to a stop just short of the cape where there was a trespassers will be prosecuted sign , the area could only be viewed on a guided tour , why the bloody sign wasn’t displayed 40 klms back along the road is a mystery , and we weren’t the only ones to have made the fruitless journey. We then headed for the Arthur river for the night. We settled down watching a mother and baby wallaby feeding near the van they were there nearly an hour, we love the wildlife, a Dutch couple , Betty and Peter came over to watch and have a chat, they were going on a cruise the next day down the Arthur river which left at 10’00am the next morning, we decided we would join them , alas when we got up in the morning one of the rear tyres on the van was flat, the nearest town to get a replacement was back at Smithton, no cruise for us today. The hole was repaired , the sun was shining, we would go to Murrawah head north on this road again but only 5 klms to Preminghana here there were some aboriginal rock carvings to be seen. We arrived at the caretakers house , he had to be informed that we were there and what our plans were as we were passing through a sacred Aboriginal site. He was very informative , he told us it was a long walk along the sea front , and told us of some of the history of the area , of how the aboriginal women would hide in the surrounding hills to have their babies ,they would hide there so that the whites wouldn’t take the babies away from them to be civilised , many of the babies died and were buried on the hill. This was also a meeting place of the Aboriginal tribes , they would fish here for abalone and other shell fish , huge middens of shells dating back many thousands of years dotted the landscape. He couldn’t tell us where the carvings were , but as we had come such a long way from England to see them he gave us a very good indication. We walked between three and four klms along the shore until we found them , it was worth the journey and now we would race the tide to get back to the van. We returned to the camp site after booking the cruise up the Arthur river and into the rainforest for the following day , Peter and Betty were nowhere to be seen but their chairs and water were still there. They still had not returned by the morning. We went on our cruise , which included morning coffee , and a barbeque lunch in the rain forest , our guide Robert had been here for five generations and told many stories of the history of the area. He started by asking all the ladies present to use the toilet on the boat , there had been a case of a woman going in to the bush to relieve herself , getting bitten in a delicate place by a snake , and being too modest to tell anyone returned to the bus for her return journey and died.
He knew all about the trees , the wildlife that inhabited the area, pointing out white bellied eagles , their nests and young , we also saw a kingfisher , which are a different colour from ours. He also pointed out the Tasmanian oak tree which was the biggest in the forest , he said in his grandfathers time one had fallen across the river , it was so wide he would use it for a bridge , one day with his team of eight bullocks he was halfway across when he saw another logger coming in the opposite direction with another team of bullocks , so his grandfather backed his team onto a branch and allowed the other to cross.( a tall story I think.) it would have to be one big tree.
After the cruise instead of returning to the camp site we travelled on down the coast on another unsealed road the scenery again is spectacular down steep valleys through rolling hills craggy mountains , to Corrina ,population 5, the road stops at a river ,the ferry is on the other side and stops running at 7.0 clock , it is seven o’clock, there is a campsite here so we book in for the night. We have a wander round and see this sign , I will try to get a picture of it on the blog but here is what it says .
How To Get on Barge
1. Drive up and down car park looking for bridge
2. Park at information centre.
3. Then park in car park.
4. Drive to kiosk and ask is barge operator still In bed ?, or how do you get across on barge if there is no operator.
5. The quickest and easiest way is when you are ready , park on the road at the stop sign and press the button and the operator will come.
There is a button below this sign.
Today on our journey we saw a wombat and an echidna.
We were just settling down with a drink when a familiar face came round the van , followed by a shout , ‘’hey Betty ! Look here are the Pomes’’ It was our Dutch friends, we asked where they were the night before , they didn’t appear after the cruise, we explained why we weren’t on it , it seems they had a whining wheel bearing on their van and had arranged for it to be fixed while they were on the cruise, when they returned it was still not finished and they booked a cabin for the night. There wasn’t much room in the campsite where we were but we moved our van so they to could stay the night and await the ferry. They set off before us but we met up again in Zeehan where we joined them for coffee. They were headed for Strahan as were we, perhaps we would meet again that night.
On the way to Strahan we passed the Henty Dunes , at last something named after the Henty’s. It was raining again so we decided against surfing down these impressive 30 metre dunes. Strahan was very touristy and so we passed through, although I would have liked to take a trip to Sarah island where the worst of the convicts were housed to harvest the Huon pine , this could only be seen on an organised cruise , and included a walk in the rain forest with morning coffee and barbeque lunch thrown in , done that got the T shirt.( and it was too expensive more than 60 dollars each.) From here we travelled to Queenstown , very industrialised copper mining town the deep eroded gullies and bare hillsides from which 3million tons of timber had been felled to feed the furnaces are testament to the destruction mining has caused. And so on to Derwent Bridge. We are overlooking Lake Sinclair and it is raining . The weather is still inclement , and so I sit here typing this blog , hoping the sun will shine over the lake on which shores we sit. But lucky you I have been reading up on the history of the Henty family which I shall share with you now.
The development of a colony in Tasmania was hampered by the shortage of land compared with the mainland and by 1830 this was leading many settlers to consider settlement on the opposite shore of the Bass Strait, these included the Henty family.
The Henty Family , consisted of Mother and father Thomas and Elizabeth , seven sons , James , Charles William , Edward , Stephen , John and Francis and a daughter Jane . In 1829 James , Stephen and John came to the Swan river settlement in Perth , they soon decided that the prospects of farming , were not good there and moved to Launceston in Tasmania , the rest of the family soon joined them , they had hoped to get a land grant to compensate for the land they had given up in Perth , but this was not granted and they were unable to buy enough good land for successful farming .Twice they asked the British government for permission to settle on the opposite shore of the Bass Strait.
In November 1834 , while awaiting an answer , Edward decided to take up land at Portland bay where Francis joined him a month later and Stephen and John in 1836 , besides farming they were also engaged in whaling and took up more land on the Wannon river . Their presence on the mainland was not widely known about until Major Mitchell ,( he who waxed lyrical about having found Eden) on a journey of exploration, was surprised to find them. If you remember they were evicted later. Now , of the brothers who had not moved to Portland Charles and William were elected to the very first Tasmanian parliament., James became bankrupt in 1846 and returned to England , but after some years returned to Melbourne where he prospered and became a member of the Victorian council. Tomorrow we will head towards Hobart . Before we came to Tasmania we were assured by many we would like it as it was like England we didn’t realise the weather would be the same as it is over there in April , this being their summer. Before I log off I would like to share our dinner with you it was David’s turn to cook. We hadn’t seen a butcher or vegetable shop for 3 days, so from our tin store he produced this.

Ingredients
1 small tin of spam
1piece of dry cheese called old bitey
4 slices of bread.
First you empty the contents of the can onto a plate and mash.
Next you chop the cheese into small lumps.
Now mix together the mashed spam and cheese
Toast one side of each slice of bread.
Now spread the other side with the spam and cheese mixture and toast under the grill.
Cut each slice into triangle and wash down with a nice cold beer.
Still no shops tonight we eat out.







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