Koalas, Clifftops & Football - Closing the Loop in the Great South West

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Third Quarter - Discovery Bay & Mount Richmond

With another rest day in Nelson under my belt - and another week's worth of supplies at my disposal, courtesy of a food parcel I had sent ahead from Melbourne a few weeks earlier - I was ready to tackle the remaining 111km of the Great South West Walk, which would mean following the coast for six straight days (unless I chose to take the inland detour over Mount Richmond, which would add a further 12km). So after stuffing my face full of hot food from the Nelson Kiosk one last time, I followed the River Road out of town to be confronted by the awesome sight of Discovery Bay's Ocean Beach stretching off into the distance on either side - my first glimpse of the Southern Ocean since leaving Portland twelve days earlier. Thankfully after the incessant showers of the previous week the sky had cleared by the time I hit the beach, as for the next four hours I would be totally exposed to the whims of the weather, with only a short detour into the dunes behind the beach to bypass a couple of rocky outcrops to break up the monotony of the twenty kilometre stretch along the sand.

But with the sun shining down, a cool breeze blowing off the sea and firm sand to walk on, the walking was both easy and enjoyable - with no end of things to look at along the way: from kelp washed up on the shore, to the numerous pipi shells (both intact and ripped open by seabirds) scattered about the sand, to the many seabirds themselves (silver gulls, black-backed gulls, crested terns, pied oystercatchers etc). The highlight though came only ten minutes after hitting the beach, when I encountered a solitary seal just hanging out on the sand - presumably an escapee from one of the colonies of fur seals up ahead at Cape Bridgewater. My luck with the weather even seemed to have changed, with a threatening cloud dumping heavy rain that I had been eying cautiously passing by uneventfully not far from shore towards the end of the day.

Eventually I reached the turn-off from the beach, where a short trail led to a scrappy campsite that I shared with four other guys (old high school mates who still try to catch up for a week-long hiking trip at least once a year) who had also paddled the last 50km of the Glenelg River in a pair of two-man canoes over the previous days, and were now walking through to Trewalla campsite on the other side of Cape Bridgewater. Few things could endear a tired hiker to his new camp mates more effectively than the offer of a cold beer, and it didn't take long for the first Mountain Goat Summer Ale to be followed by another. While the plan had been for all four of the guys to do the walk, one of them (Cam, aka Boothy) had hurt his back during the river trip, and as a result had decided to drive from campsite to campsite with the other guys' backpacks while Scott, Phil and Mick (aka Yowie) proceeded on foot. And since Boothy would have plenty of time to kill each day, he had decided to put it to good use by driving into Portland and stacking the esky full of ice, beer and spirits for the boys' enjoyment! Thankfully their evening drinking sessions would be of the 'low-key chill out session' variety, and as with Baz & Pete they would prove to be excellent company in the evenings. It also didn't hurt to have the crystal clear Lake Monibeong not far from the campsite, so that I could indulge in a delightfully refreshing swim at the end of the day.

The following day brought another fifteen kilometres of beach walking along the shoreline of Discovery Bay, but with less variety of scenery, softer sand in parts due to the slightly higher tide and narrower beach, and a two kilometre trudge through the windblown sand dunes behind the beach to reach the campsite at the end of the day - not to mention the bucket full of accumulated rubbish that I collected towards the end - it would be one of my least enjoyable days of the walk. The Swan Lake after which the campsite was named was also a far less appealing spot than Lake Monibeong had been, meaning that a planned afternoon swim turned into a prolonged circumnavigation of the lake on foot instead. But some enjoyable company and a spectacular full moon that evening offered the promise of better times to come... even if my decision to take the inland route over Mount Richmond the next day (in order to avoid a third straight day of beach walking) would add an extra twelve kilometres to the overall distance of my walk.

Waking well before dawn the next day, I managed to get away by 9am, in the hope that I might be able to knock off both the 21km section from Swan Lake to Tarragal campsite AND the 12km following section from Tarragal to The Springs, (where I would rejoin the coastal route being taken by the other four guys) in one long day - which would then allow me to relax and enjoy shorter days for the rest of the walk. In rock climbing parlance, this would be the crux of my route. Unfortunately it seemed that despite leaving the beach far behind I had most certainly not left the soft sand behind, as the climb up from the coastal dunes to the edge of a nearby pine plantation consisted mostly of 4WD tracks made of soft, sandy soil - though this at least gave me the chance to check out some pretty impressive kangaroo and wallaby footprints left in the soil along the way. After three hours of solid if unspectacular walking I reached the picnic area at the 'summit' of Mount Richmond, whose modest height of 224m - despite being the highest point on the Great South West Walk - is best summed up in it's indigenous name of Benwarrin, meaning 'Long Hill'.

But while Benwarrin may have been lacking in height, it made up for this with it's diverse vegetation and abundant wildlife. In fact, no sooner had I dumped my backpack at a shaded picnic table and proceeded to strip off my sweat-stained clothes to drape over a sunlit table to dry, than the telltale grunting of a koala could be heard echoing around the picnic area... and upon closer inspection I found the koala in question only about six metres above the ground in the very tree that I had dumped my backpack beneath! So for the next hour or so I enjoyed a relaxing lunch break while my furry companion did it's best to ignore the annoying intruder that had woken it from it's slumber by curling up into a ball and dozing contentedly, with just the odd spurt of energy every now and then to indulge in a good scratching session.

From the top of Benwarrin/Mount Richmond it was only a further 7km to the campsite at Tarragal, after which I enjoyed a glorious trail through the forest with the slanting light of the afternoon bathing everything in a golden glow. No sooner had I passed my first tiger snake for the day than I turned a corner to find a koala hanging from a branch directly above the trail, and only about two metres above my head! Having only seen a handful of koalas in the wild before this trip - and most of those being a long way off the ground and therefore hard to see clearly - these past two encounters had been absolutely magical, and it was very heartening to know that this area is a stronghold of sorts for koalas, given how bleak their future appears in many other parts of Australia.

Continuing along the trail in the cool of the late-afternoon - my favourite time of day to be out walking - I crested a hill with cows in one paddock and sheep in another, before being met with a stunning view down towards the coast, with the shimmering blue expanse of the Bridgewater Lakes in the foreground. And after a quick stop to admire the gaping mouth of the nearby Tarragal Caves, I couldn't resist the temptation to drop my pack once again and indulge in a wonderfully invigorating swim in the beautiful fresh water of one of the lakes, which I had all to myself... which was probably just as well, as I sprawled my naked self out on top of a picnic table to dry off afterwards! By the time I left the lake it was half-past-six, and despite the fact that I had already covered around 26km (and still had another 7km to go) I felt as though I was floating on air: the scenery was magical, the light was stunning, the walking was easy and, to be honest, I didn't want the day to end!

But if it had to end at some point, there could be few more impressive ways to draw the day to a close than with the final section of trail along the clifftops at the eastern end of Discovery Bay, with the entire length of Ocean Beach (most of which I had already walked along) stretching off into the distant haze of sea spray; while the golden orb of the sun cast it's reflection on the water as it sunk, slowly but surely, towards the Southern Ocean. And though I didn't spot any blue whales (which are known to frequent this stretch of coast throughout the warmer months, as a result of the so-called Bonney Upwelling that brings cold, nutrient-rich water to the surface close to shore) I did encounter probably the largest echidna that I have ever come across! And then, long after the sun had disappeared below the horizon and the last of it's light was fading from the sky, I finally arrived at the beautiful grassy expanse of The Springs campsite, to be greeted by Cam, Mick, Scott and a drunken Phil - along with a pair of female hikers, Edwina and Sharon - who welcomed me with open arms and (even better) a gin & tonic. Truly the perfect end to a perfect day!

Fourth Quarter - Capes & Bays

With by far the longest day of the walk now behind me, I could afford to indulge in a much needed sleep-in the next morning (if you can call getting up 45 minutes after sunrise a sleep-in) before returning to the clifftop trail as it finally turned it's back on Discovery Bay and headed for the tip of Cape Bridgewater. And though the trail itself was somewhat ugly as it weaved it's way through a barren landscape almost entirely devoid of vegetation that wouldn't look out of place on the surface of Mars - a result of past overgrazing - the endless views of wave-battered cliffs more than made up for it. But the piece de resistance came immediately after reaching the tip of Cape Bridgewater, as a series of viewpoints built out over the edge of the cliffs provided a bird's eye view of the adjacent Australian and New Zealand fur seal colonies down on the rocky shoreline below. The aquatic equivalent of dogs with their boundless energy and playful enthusiasm, many of the resident seals could be seen frolicking in the water right at the point where incoming waves would break against the partially-submerged rock platforms. And apart from a single tour boat from the nearby settlement of Bridgewater Bay - and possibly the odd passing private boat - the seals are free to enjoy a hassle-free existence due to the inaccessible location of their colonies, at the base of Victoria's highest stretch of sea cliffs (135m). It is the only permanent seal colony to be found anywhere on the Australian mainland, and one can only hope they will continue to be given the necessary space to live their lives free of human interference.

From Cape Bridgewater the trail led up and over the highest section of cliffs before dropping down into Bridgewater Bay, where I immediately dropped my pack and hit the surf to catch some decent-sized waves, undeterred by the fact that I was the only person in the water not wearing a full wetsuit! Thoroughly invigorated from my body surfing session, my next stop just had to be at the Bridgewater Bay Café, which sits overlooking the beach beckoning weary Great South West Walkers to drop in for their first non-rehydrated meal in many days. Needless to say, the famous 'Bridgie Burger' washed down with an iced coffee did not disappoint! Nor did the hedgehog slice that followed for dessert... or the coffee that followed that! But soon enough it was back to the task at hand, which involved a short section of walking along the beach before following an undulating trail through the coastal scrub atop the dunes directly behind the beach. For a short time I walked with Mick, Scott (who had been nursing a hangover all morning) and Phil (who surprisingly had not!) until we crossed paths with their 'car support' in the form of Cam - who had once again been into the bottle shop in Portland - at which point a beer break was declared by the three boys! Still nursing a full belly from lunch, I politely declined the offer of a beer and soon enough reached the next campsite at Trewalla, nestled snugly in the dunes not far back from the beach, where tht evening I caught sight of my first ever long-nosed potoroo.

With the boys all heading back to family commitments in Melbourne the next day, it would be just myself and the two girls (Edwina and Sharon) pressing on to Portland over the next two days, which started with the final 5km beach walk of the trip towards the cliffs at the far end of Bridgewater Bay. From there the trail led straight up through the sand dunes, as I gained 75 metres of elevation in just three minutes... but only after saying hello to two gorgeous dogs (Jack and Leila) at the bottom of the climb, as they emerged full of joy onto the beach! Half-an-hour later I was still cooling down on a bench at the top of the stairs as the dogs returned with their owner - at which point Jack (a thick-furred husky) almost collapsed on the ground behind me! Of course it didn't help matters that this was the hottest day in two weeks, with the sun beating down mercilessly from a clear blue sky. Eventually though both Jack the husky and I regained our composure and pressed on around the clifftops, enjoying glorious views over the sweeping arc of Bridgewater Bay - though not long after saying farewell to my canine companions I tripped on an unseen tree root and stumbled head first at breakneck pace for about twenty metres, only to somehow manage to regain my balance when I was convinced I was headed for a face-plant into the dirt! It would be fair to say at that point I could have done with an extra pair of legs - I certainly hadn't seen Jack or Leila having any trouble with their footing!

After winding through a rare grove of soap mallee trees - which have multiple small trunks as opposed to a single large one, and which provided some much-needed shade due to their dense, low canopy - I caught sight of the red-topped 32m high Cape Nelson Lighthouse, which provided the necessary motivation to keep me going as I very much hoped to make it to the attached cafe for an iced coffee and some cake before they closed at 2pm... I'm pleased to report that I made it with thirty minutes to spare! And best of all, the next campsite was only a twenty minute walk further on, allowing me the opportunity to spend a relaxing afternoon in camp recovering my energy for the final day's walk.

With the mercury tipped to rise due to a northerly change overnight - and with 22km to cover before I arrived back in Portland - I was up and out of my tent long before dawn on the final morning, and was soon following the clifftop once more as the trail wound it's way around the crescent-shaped Nelson Bay. And with the wind no longer coming off the sea, the constant crash and boom of waves breaking against the shore to my right was replaced with the persistent hum of giant 80m high wind turbines with 40m long blades swooshing through the air to my left, as I passed through an extensive wind farm throughout the day. The location of this wind farm certainly made great sense, located atop a series of rocky headlands (Capes Bridgewater, Nelson and Grant) that rise up like islands from the sea - which in fact is exactly what they used to be, with Cape Bridgewater having been a volcanic island that was only relatively recently joined to the mainland by windblown sand dunes, which have since solidified into a type of limestone known as calcerenite, which now sits atop the much darker volcanic basalt.

Stopping off for a break at the viewpoint above Yellow Rock - a highly-reputed surf break - I could only envy the wetsuit-clad surfers below enjoying the perfect conditions, with a pumping swell forming beautiful long barrels in the face of a stiffening offshore breeze; and all backed by the rugged cliffs of Nelson Bay. What a way to be at one with nature that must be. But the trail wasn't going to finish itself, so I pressed on past Cape Grant weaving past countless wind turbines as I went, before arriving at Point Danger, where a breakaway group from the offshore islets of Lawrence Rocks have formed Australia's only mainland colony of Australasian Gannets (the birds that dive head-first at top speed into the sea to catch fish up to twenty metres below the surface). With a large fence preventing access to the colony, I had to make do with a mere glimpse of the action from a raised viewpoint a couple of hundred metres away - which somewhat disconcertingly looked out over a rifle range in the opposite direction, with multiple signs warning visitors to keep low in order to avoid becoming targets! Quite what the gannets make of this I can only guess, but the fact that they have maintained a breeding colony on the tip of Point Danger for over twenty years would suggest they have become accustomed to it!

From Point Danger the trail turned northwestwards for the final eight kilometres into Portland, and with the temperature having by now risen into the high-twenties and my water supply dwindling there was nothing for it but to keep my head down and pound out the miles as quickly as possible - which with the constant buzz of an aluminium smelter to my left wasn't particularly difficult. Soon enough I found myself back in Portland, and as I hit the foreshore for the final triumphant kilometre an old man rushed across the road to ask if I had done 'the whole trail' and then congratulated me on my achievement, which I thought was a lovely touch. And without any further ado, I arrived back at the trailhead outside the visitor information centre, having walked 250km (and paddled a further 50km) over eighteen glorious days. And not only had I managed to complete my loop a mere hour before the stampede of Easter school holidays was due to begin, I had also ensured that I would have somewhere to watch the Easter Thursday blockbuster match between my beloved Brisbane Lions and the universally-loathed Collingwood Magpies, which had been relocated from Brisbane to Melbourne only three days earlier due to the latest coronavirus-related lockdown in Brisbane.

So after registering with the visitor centre that I had completed my walk (so as to avoid having a search-and-rescue team sent to find me if I didn't turn up on time) I got to enjoy some of the luxuries that I had foregone over the previous two-and-a-half weeks, starting with an enormous burger at the Harbour Lights Cafe, followed by a trip to the local bottle shop for supplies and then a very well-deserved swim and beers at the gorgeous Nun's Beach directly below my clifftop holiday park. But the cherry on top of the cake surely had to be the football, as despite their best efforts the mighty Lions trailled for the entire game - and were staring down the barrel of a disastrous 0-3 start to the season - only for Zac Bailey (the same player who had been robbed of a certain match-winning goal against the Cats only six days earlier) to mark the ball inside 50 with only twelve seconds remaining, and then calmly kick a goal after the final siren had sounded to seal a famous victory! Watching my team record an unforgettable 1-point win only a week after suffering a heartbreaking 1-point loss to keep their season alive was surely the best possible way to finish my own four-quarter adventure... or so I thought, until I was bestowed one final gift.

As I walked back to my tent in the middle of the night, I noticed what looked like an odd-looking cat with an unusually large head walking across the top of the 2m high wooden fence surrounding the holiday park (I should probably point out that I was about half-a-dozen beers deep by this point) which upon closer inspection turned out to be a koala! And as I slowly approached, the koala sat and looked at me in the half-light, without showing any signs of fear or concern. So I slowly held out my hand for the koala to investigate, and then ever so gently reached around and stroked it's back... it was the softest fur I have ever felt on an animal! As the koala disappeared into the night, I retired to my tent still glowing from the experience, and tried to process the events of the day.

Finish my longest ever, most wildlife-filled hike? Tick. Knock back some delicious beers on a beautiful beach under a sunlit sky? Tick. Watch my favourite team beat my least favourite team in a nailbiting game of football? Tick. Stroke the fur of a wild (if urban) koala? Tick.

That'll do me.

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Photos

Stunning Coastline
Bridgewater Bay

Boundless Beach
Hitting the beach at Discovery Bay

Lone Seal
Fur seal on the beach at Discovery Bay

Kicking Back
Scott, Phil and Mick relaxing beside the campfire

Taking a Break
My backpack resting on the bucket of rubbish I collected on day two

Sleepy Koala
My lunchtime companion on the top of Benwarrin/Mount Richmond

Some koalas will do anything for attention...
Koala hanging onto a branch directly above the trail

Water Like Glass
The most beautiful of the Bridgewater Lakes

Golden Crescent
Discovery Bay in the late-afternoon sunlight

An Island No More
Cape Bridgewater

Vertiginous Viewpoint
Seal colony viewpoint at Cape Bridgewater

Scenic Shoreline
The beautiful Bridgewater Bay

Sandy Super-Highway
On the beach at Bridgewater Bay

Beautiful Bay
Murrell's Beach, at the far end of Bridgewater Bay

Harnessing the Wind
Wind farm near Cape Nelson

Pounding Surf meets Rugged Cliffs
The stunning surf spot of Yellow Rock in Nelson Bay

Point Danger
Mainland Australia's only colony of Australasian gannets

Back where it all began
At the Great South West Walk trailhead in Portland, after walking 250km (and paddling a further 50km) in 18 days

The Ultimate Payoff
Nun's Beach in Portland - the perfect location for a well-deserved swim

The Sun Slowly Sinks
Watching the sun set over Discovery Bay on the way to The Springs campsite

Daylight Fading
Dusk over Discovery Bay