The walk is relatively inaccessible so it’s necessary to either fly in to start the walk, or walk in and fly out, or walk for two or three weeks and complete a semi-circuit. We opted to fly in to Melaleuca and walk back out. The initial plan was dealt an inauspicious blow when the wild weather caused our Saturday (22nd December) morning flight to be postponed. This gave us the chance to repack our bags (again), decide that Jana didn’t really feel up to the 85km trek after all and would fly back out with Helen after a couple of days at “base camp”, and eat lots of cake in preparation for the arduous days ahead.
You can find a map if you click here ... it's in two halves on pages 51 and 52 of the pdf document.
On the 23rd we were up at 5.30am to head out for our flights from a nearby aerodrome. We were told that the weather on the shorter inland route was still a bit hairy so our group of five was divided between two small Cessna 206 planes and we took the calmer coastal route flying over much of the route we were to walk. The flight was superb, with lots of great views and relatively few clouds, and our pilot pointing out landmarks and places of interest.
Hobart from the sky
Southport
Lion Rock (from the air)
South Cape Rivulet
Fluted Cliffs Sth Cape Range
Prion Beach – boat crossing
Landing
Our Cessna
As we flew into Melaleuca I was pleased I had recently read a biography of Deni King – a “bush legend” who lived out here as a subsistence tin-miner and effectively laid foundations for the conservation of much of the south west of Tasmania. Having a little extra knowledge about the surroundings and their development enhanced my experience. Deni kindly built two large Nissen-style huts in the area around his house for walkers to use, and we chose one to stay in for a night before starting the walk. Nobody else seemed to be using them, though, and the people on the other planes we saw that day launched off into the bush immediately.
The river at Melaleuca
On the way to Bathurst Harbour
The first of the pretty flowers
Typical Buttongrass plains
Bathurst Harbour
Me in the rain
In the afternoon we walked out to Bathurst Harbour to the north, sloshing through plenty of mud, and getting a bit of a soaking as the weather came in from the west.
DAY 1 (24/12/07)
After a windy wet and hail filled night (note – Nissen huts make rain and hail sound extremely loud!) we decided that the walkers (Jacques, Ella and myself) ought to head off. We had a look at the bird hide set up for the observation of the rare migratory Orange Bellied Parrot and enjoyed our last luxurious lunch, then put on our waterproof jackets and backpacks and headed off into the rain.
The first section of the walk was an easy three-hour jaunt through a wide valley of buttongrass to Cox Bight on the south coast. The bog was mainly avoided thanks to the judicious supply of duckboards, but we were surrounded by fresh water all the way to the sea. Either side of the valley was formed by impressive dolerite bulges, often bare, but sporadically tree-covered where wildfires had not recently ravaged. The weather was constantly shifting from fleeting sunshine to blustery rain; the wind ever present. Views back to Mount Rugby and Melaleuca assured us that whilst it could be bright sunshine in one spot, a mile away it could be quite different.
Pretty grasses
Real walkers wear hats!
The valley side on the way to Cox Bight
The first camp site was in the shadow of the New Harbour Range on the sheltered spit between Freney lagoon and the sea. Fresh water was provided close by where the creek runs from the lagoon to the sea – setting the trend for the next few nights. Upon arrival excited stew and cake eating ensued underneath the lightweight tarpaulin we carried to ensure little extra shelter. There were a few other groups sharing the site, a solo photographer a group of two couples and another couple.
A nice spot to spend Xmas Eve
DAY 2 (25/12/07)
We didn’t rush things in the morning, and walked out fairly leisurely. Carrying a week’s food on your back tends to slow things down a bit! We set out a long the beach heading east before veering north east into buttongrass plains again. This vegetation is a bit like European moorland in that it tends to grow on peaty soils as a result of burning. It also leads very muddy walking. Red Point Hills presented itself as our first climb, and the beginning of a slightly disturbing pattern - the tendency for the track to follow the steepest possible route over all hills and ranges. A handful of pecan nuts and a fig each saw us over the top to a sunny lunch spot.
Christmas Morning ... on the beach
Looking back across plains from Red Point Hills
All day we could see the formidable Ironbound Range in the distance. We knew this would have to be tackled on the third day and that we would have to climb from a little above sea level to about 1,000m to cross it. Understandably, it is prone to some shocking weather that can make the walk dangerous, so seeing it shrouded in cloud on and off all day added to our anticipation.
The Ironbound Ranges ... looking smaller in the photo!
The second half of the day dragged a bit, and we knew our campsite was on the eastern side of Louisa River, but there were so many rivers to cross we didn’t know when it would come. You can spot a river in buttongrass country as they tend to be lined by trees, protected from fire by the water, so each line of trees we spied led to hopes of a campsite. Eventually, after several crossings (some with ropes supplied) we made it. A nice seven-hour Christmas day stroll, the final sections of which teased us with views of the steep climb up the Ironbound Range we were due to tackle the next day. The final crossing was a bit of a pain, though. My boots were almost dry from earlier crossings and bog, so I decided it would be prudent to remove them for the crossing. How wrong I was: The boulders were far too slippery so I ended up pretty soaked. However, the campsite under the trees by the river was superb, so I soon cheered up. Our gourmet Christmas dinner was pasta with lentils and rehydrated peas and sweetcorn, and cake of course.
Jacques crossing a river
Thank goodness for the Tarp.
Campsite
DAY 3 (26/12/07)
Anticipating a bit of a slog over the Ironbounds and a long descent on the other side, we rose relatively early on the third day. Emerging from the trees we had a short walk through buttongrass before the track rocketed upwards – yes, it followed the insane route we had been tormented by the day before. What I had hoped was a waterfall was in fact the white quartzite surface of the track.
Halfway up the Ironbounds
The ascent began well with good weather, and excellent views back across Louisa Bay – so good that we stopped frequently for photos. After an hour or so, the weather started to turn sour, though. We pressed on although we couldn’t see how much further we had to climb, and where the shelter was minimal we were battered by strong winds and rain, knocking us off our feet a few times. On some sections we were protected by low scrub that almost formed tunnels. We heard the occasional aeroplane taking the coastal route, so hoped that Helen and Jana were getting a reasonable flight out, as this was the day they were supposed to be leaving Melaleuca.
Looking back
On the leeward side of range we entered spectacular rainforest, which improved our spirits no end, although the track was muddy, slippy, and arduous as we slowly picked our way over tree roots with our movement limited by our big packs. Jacques said it reminded him of the infamously muddy Kokoda Track that he walked in Papua New Guinea a couple of years ago. The mud seemed to go on forever, but the moss-covered trees eventually gave way to drier forest as we neared the coast and our direction shifted from south to east. It became a bit of a photo festival in the end.
Back on the coast on the way into camp
After seven and a half hours walking we finally made it into camp to a bit of a surprise. A Canadian couple that shot past us on the way up the mountain were lazing around a campfire. We moved to challenge them as the Southwest area is supposed to be free of campfires to protect it from fire, but it turned out that this is the sole fireplace allowed – I can only presume to save unlucky walkers from hypothermia.
The campsite was another gem, sheltered and with great clean water provided by the nearby creek and a nice beach. It’s amazing how good tea and cake can be when you’re soaked and shivering after a long day’s hike. The tarp. once again was brought into action.
DAY 4 (27/12/07)
Once again it was a rainy night, occasionally waking us, and the creek had risen about six inches by the morning. We set off at a leisurely pace heading up and down ridges through spectacular forest along the coast, sometimes going down on to beaches.
When we reached Prion Beach we discovered a washdown station has been set up at the creek at the western end. Washdown stations are provided for walkers to clean any mud off clothing, equipment and boots, not so that we all look smart, but to prevent the spread of Phytophthora a soil-borne root fungus that causes widespread plant devastation. Unbeknown to us the area we had come through from Melaleuca was diseased. It wasn’t until our next buttongrass plains experience that Jacques noted the increased diversity of wildflowers. The washdown took a fair while, testament to the fact we were covered in mud, but the weather had begun to really improve and we were feeling pretty lazy so it was pleasant enough.
Prion Beach took an hour to walk and we were enjoyed the sunny views of the islands to the south, where we’re told Aborigines used to live, gathering seafood and hunting seals. At the end of the beach projects a spit that separates New River Lagoon from the sea, and this is the fun bit: To cross the mouth of the lagoon and reach solid ground again, two tinnies are provided (ie small aluminium rowing boats). One is moored on either side, and walkers make sure they are in place for the next party, whichever direction they come from. A maximum of three people and their packs can row across at one time in a boat, before returning with two boats and then rowing one back across again. We added an element of fun to the slow process as I swam the return crossing (walking the shallow section). Once all this was done it was already lunchtime.
On Prion Beach
Although the day was scheduled to be a short one with many people stopping for the night at New River Lagoon, we decided to push on while the weather was so good. After rambling through further coastal forest, the guide we were reading proclaimed that we were now to face “some kilometres of buttongrass”. On this section we climbed gently and were rewarded with spectacular views of Precipitous Bluff and Pindar’s Peak. Eventually we came a signpost marking Osmiridium Beach campsite in one direction, and onwards to Surprise Bay. Although we were fairly tired, it was early enough in the day to keep going, if only to find out sooner what the surprise was. Well it was no surprise that there were lots of steep hills through the forest and I was pretty shattered by the time we reached Surprise Bay. It was truly stunning, with a campsite perched on the steep headland overlooking the sun-drenched bay. Much as I would have loved to gather Mussels from the rocks for dinner after nine hours walking I settled with our standard walking fare including Surprise brand dehydrated peas and sweetcorn – how appropriate.
Sleep came quickly, but at 2am I was woken by a crash and a scurrying noise. In the morning we noticed that something had nibbled two of our plastic mugs. Possums presumably.
DAY 5 (28/12/07)
Having put ourselves a bit ahead of the other walking groups we had been seeing along the way we didn’t see another soul all day. It started with an hour and a half steep trek to the strangely desolate Granite Beach, deserted of birds it had a grey coloured sand. There was a trawler in the bay, however, the first we had seen. Then came a climb 500m to cross the South Cape Range. Along the plateau amongst the buttongrass again we had even better views than the day before, with just as good weather. We could now look back at all the peaks including the Ironbound Range and could even see Louisa Island in the distance. An additional spectacular peak, Mount La Perouse was visible ahead of us – looking like its top had been cut off and sanded flat by a giant.
managed to photograph Jacques and I paralysed by mud and laughter.
Falling over laughing
Finally we reached drier forest climbing up onto an undulating ridge alongside the ocean that led us to South Cape Rivulet, our last campground of the trip. Another long day had rewarded us with another superb site. The lack of human contact was made up for by finding that there were two families with young children who were spending Christmas camping here as well as a couple of nervous-looking walkers preparing to head towards Melaleuca. Another couple had come in with a baby that was clearly about to spend its first new year camping. The Rivulet itself was simply beautiful, providing chilly swimming for the kids (and us), and a suitable backdrop for our last camp meal. Unfortunately something about the water or the food didn’t agree with me and much of the night was interrupted.
DAY 6 (29/12/07)
After a few days of glorious weather it was somewhat cool in the morning, and with gut-rot and a pounding head I had an uncharacteristically small breakfast. The walk back into ‘civilisation’ took about four hours, and was led by Jacques who was obviously keen to get back to Helen and Jana. Up and down was the order of the morning as we clambered in and out of bays before heading inland through increasingly drier forest complete with lots of daywalkers heading in to see the beach. The weather improved and became quite hot again. The tracks were better maintained and the smells of the cosmetics worn by daywalkers assaulted our bush-hardened noses, adding to the melancholy feeling one gets as they leave the peace and quiet behind.
The arrangement with Helen and Jana had been that they drive into Cockle Creek (the end point of the South Coast Track on the 29th in case we were back, then camp the night if we hadn’t yet arrived. At about 1.30pm, two minutes walk from Cockle Creek we almost bashed into them. We headed back to the car laughing at the fortuitous timing and gorged ourselves on sandwiches, cherries and raspberries that had been brought down for us. It was a two hour drive back to Hobart, with the windows wound down to save the non-walkers from choking!
All in all it was a superb trip. We felt privileged to see some of the relatively unspoilt country in the world heritage area: astounded by some of the old growth forests, bowled over by the beauty of the beaches and humbled by the magnitude and multitude of peaks. It really is a special place, and we really only saw a small part of it … at least on this trip anyway.
