THE DROP BEAR DIARIES - CHAPTER 10 "STORM CLOUDS OVER WALWA"

Stately driveway to the Tahbilk winery

The Spirit of Tasmania pulled into Melbourne at daybreak after another uneventful overnight crossing of the Bass Strait from Devonport.  

Today would be an ambitious driving day that would ultimately take us to Walwa in the Upper Murray region, gateway to the Snowy Mountains in the Australian Alps. 

Roger and Julie had arranged some interesting side trips along the way with friends and in between we managed a few stops at Victoria's excellent wineries. 

Marsanne - Fit for a Queen!

This one's a little young

Tahbilk, for one, lies in the most beautiful of settings with historic old buildings, avenues of mature trees and row upon row of ancient vines.  

We sampled various offerings, including the Marsanne which was served at the Queen’s coronation and apparently has been supplied to the Palace regularly ever since.

Visiting over, we focussed our attention on the drive to Walwa.  The weather had turned for the worse and heavy rain thundered down from darkened skies.  

We pressed on, keeping an eye out for a quick dinner stop which eventually manifested itself in the township of Holbrook. It turned out to be an eclectic fast food joint specializing in Indian and Italian takeaway, hamburgers, fish & chips - there were no menu limitations here.

Dinner could be whatever you felt
like - such an accommodating chef!

It was almost dark and the heavy cloud cover continued to threaten. We were cautioned to watch out for kangaroos crossing the road on what was left of the drive to Walwa.  A collision with a kangaroo is something to be avoided, not only for the poor kangaroo but for the sake of the car’s bodywork.  Many cars we noticed were fitted with “roo” bars for such an eventuality and sadly there had been lots of evidence of roadkill along the way.

Karen did a stellar job guiding us to our accommodations - a “resort” in the middle of nowhere where we received a pleasant welcome and directions in the pitch dark to our chalet for the overnight stay.

This is where the lightning bolt hit.  
What he really said:
"I hid the other empties out back" 

The rain was now unrelenting and we appreciated the fire burning in the pot bellied stove, supplemented by a final glass of wine before bedtime.  

And then the thunder and lightning took over with loud cracks and bangs overhead, lightning momentarily illuminating the blackness.  This went on for a long while before it eventually abated.

Next morning Roger recounted his near death experience during the night when a massive fork of lightning touched down a little too close to the chalet, specifically the bathroom, where he happened to be at the time.

Daybreak revealed pastoral surroundings

The morning presented something else. It turned out we were in the most glorious setting - rolling hills and verdant valleys as far as the eye could see. The accommodation was a resort after all and a shame we would not be able to enjoy the views from our veranda a little longer.  

Today we would be heading for the nation’s capital, Canberra, by way of the Snowy Mountains and the civil engineering wonder, the Snowy Mountains Scheme.

The weather had not been fit for man or beast - even the Drop Bears had kept a low profile taking shelter from the storm. However we had to be on our guard since we were now back on the Australian mainland, the Serengeti of Drop Bear habitat.

THE DROP BEAR DIARIES - CHAPTER 9 "THE GREAT OUTDOORS"

Viewpoint over Wineglass Bay

The Wattlebirds were in fine fettle again at the crack of dawn, awakening all and sundry with their noisy wake up call from the bushes near the Beach House.

Today was going to be a big activity day for us. 

A morning hike in the Freycinet National Park, with its knuckles of granite mountains, white sandy beaches and turquoise water.  

Our hike would take us up a rocky, winding trail for a superb view over Wineglass Bay. 

Admiring the knuckles near the end of the trail

Julie had cautioned us to watch out for tiger snakes, nasty critters apparently.  

Inward musings had us wondering why we were here.  

Nothing like a little drama to sharpen the mind and fire up the adrenalin, we made the ascent with watchful eyes.

A second, easier hike took us to the lighthouse

Another barbecue had been planned for that evening, shopped and prepared for at the Beach House before our sunset kayaking excursion that would take us across Coles Bay.

Hearty sailors ready for the off!

We all looked pretty impressive after we had been kitted up in our kayaking gear and possibly gave the impression we knew what we were doing. After some lessons on paddle and rudder operation we took to the water.  

Jolly Roger and crew aboard HMAS Drop Bear

Nathan helped us into the water and made the experience thoroughly enjoyable as we embarked on a scenic paddle across the bay that included a tea break on a secluded beach. 

He was a terrific guide who talked about life in this beautiful part of the Freycinet Peninsula. 

Returning recently to Tasmania for a quieter life, he had spent the last number of years working on private luxury yachts in the Mediterranean.  

No worries these days about lining up the cushions on the aft deck so that all the patterns went the same way.  

Such attention to detail had us smiling and we completely forgot about the threat of killer box jelly fish, although the water may have been a little too cool for them down here in Tassie.

Julie had done a fine job of firing up our imaginations!

God bless all who sail in her!

Returning to the Beach House damp but happy, the pot bellied stove was pressed into service to dry out our respective footwear,  more excellent Tasmanian wine opened and our attentions turned to the barbecue and this evening‘s gourmet indulgences.

Tomorrow we would head for Launceston and on to the Spirit of Tasmania for the overnight return to Melbourne. 

The lovely Karen had been primed to take us on the most scenic route that inevitably could include a stop at a winery or two.

Fortunately for us Drop Bears are bad sailors, preferring to spend their time high in the gum trees while they scan the ground for prey.  They apparently knew how the triffids met their fate. Seawater can be a deadly if you believe in the storyline of  “The Day of the Triffids”.

THE DROP BEAR DIARIES - CHAPTER 8 "DESPERATELY SEEKING RUGBY"

Beach House sunset

We had arrived in Coles Bay, a small community on the Freycinet Peninsula.  Our accommodation for the next two nights a glorious Beach House set in a natural bush garden overlooking the ocean.

That evening the All Blacks were playing the Wallabies in Dunedin at “The House of Pain” - so named for the difficulty visiting teams often face when taking on the All Blacks.  

We were primed to watch the game as we ate supper at the only bar in Coles Bay.

Beach House bush garden

We arrived at the bar to find the clientele watching stock car racing.  We had come face to face with the Coles Bay locals - beanie bearing young men accompanied by a sole lady sporting Rastafarian braids. They were going through the motions of playing pool, supping beer while casting one eye at the TV screen and the other suspiciously at the interlopers.

Our travelling companions are incredibly polite, they could be taken for Canadians.  Displaying incredible diplomacy in their conversations with the bar staff it became apparent the rugby game would be shown over our dead bodies.  

We retreated with as much grace as possible.

We missed the Haka

Plan B would involve a trip to the grocery store and hopefully a barbecue back at the Beach House, if the grocery store had anything suitable for barbecuing.  This was a very small community.  As luck would have it magnificent fillet steak presented itself. The trimmings were collected along with some wine and we returned to the Beach House.

The television was turned on while we prepared dinner and a miracle manifested itself.  We were staring into the belly of the House of Pain.  

In spite of our intelligence to the contrary our Beach House had the requisite TV channel, despite the fact Internet connections required one to stand in the driveway facing the water to get a signal. 

We joined the game in the early stages of the first half and the Wallabies were putting up a good fight against the All Blacks but to no avail.

Which wine shall we open?

Julie concentrating on Cooper's
 attempted conversion

Talk about grasping victory from the jaws of defeat!  

Barbecued steak with all the trimmings, Tassie wine and a famous win by the All Blacks.  

What could be better!  

Men at work

Julie and Roger graciously displayed their excellent Canadian manners at the game's outcome.

Apparently Drop Bears prefer cricket and are quite afraid of athletic men in black.  Because of their familiarity with bush fires they have become accustomed to living with The Ashes, which unfortunately cannot be said for the rest of Australia.  Good luck this year!

THE DROP BEAR DIARIES - CHAPTER 7 "WATER WHEELS AND WHISKY"

Come on ladies, there's serious tasting to be done!

Nestled in sweeping, beautiful scenery, the farming township of Bothwell lies about an hour north west of Hobart in Tasmania’s central highlands. 

The day was bright with gusty winds that made the grasslands positively dance in the sunlight. 

Nant Distillery, an artisan producer of single malt whisky, occupies an old flour mill and lies in the most picturesque of settings.

A spot of lunch first

The former 1800s mill and water wheel sit on the Clyde River surrounded by attractive old buildings.  

Bothwell has about fifty buildings that are classified or registered by the National Trust and taking in the view along the riverside it almost felt as though we had gone back in time. George Elliot’s “Mill on the Floss” came to mind.

A little something for your tasting pleasure

The Distillery’s tasting room and restaurant located in a modern building adjoining the Mill awaited. After lunch Roger and Doug retreated to the tasting counter, taking on the stance of highly experienced whisky connoisseurs. 

AKA the real McCoy

They certainly looked the part. 

Watching the proceedings it soon became apparent our devotees had hit the mother lode of whiskys. 

Good thing Julie's driving

This fine tasting elixir had been aged in old bourbon and wine oak barrels and the boys had a veritable twinkle in the eye when the tasting menu had been appropriately assaulted.

Needless to say they did not leave empty handed. 

The Nant Distillery - is this place real?

Despite our enquiries Nant Distillery's supply of Glen Drop Bear, which of course is matured in old Eucalyptus tree barrels, had been depleted and was not likely to be renewed - contractual issues we supposed.

THE DROP BEAR DIARIES - CHAPTER 6 "SALAMANCA MARKET - I JUST MAKE THE BLOODY HANDLES"

Jacko noticed our Whistler logo jackets - we told him
a good portion of his countrymen would be in Whistler
for ski season very soon.

Salamanca Place is a precinct of Hobart that abounds with rows of sandstone buildings formerly serving as warehouse space.  

Now converted into restaurants, galleries and offices the area provides a pleasant backdrop for Salamanca’s s Saturday community market.

Since its inception in 1972, the market has grown from 12 to 300 stalls becoming Tasmania’s most visited tourist venue.

The food and produce offerings are impressive, as well as the wine tasting opportunities.  

Vendors of every sort are stationed to take your cash and we enjoyed chatting to the stall owners, particularly Jacko, a retired wood turner who now spends his time crafting beautiful Tasmanian wood products.  

Accomplished young musicians had a healthy audience

His cheese knives were particularly fine and we asked him what all the different blades were intended for.  In true Aussie style he didn’t skip a beat “They give me the blades, I just make the bloody handles”.  We bought two.

Street musicians were positioned throughout the market - we particularly enjoyed the quintet of young boys with violins, cello and guitar who gave a fabulous rendition of “When I ruled the world”. 

Sausages with that?

One of the many tastings on offer

Onlookers showed their appreciation enthusiastically by dropping coins in the open violin case on the cobblestones.

It’s a shame that Drop Bears haven’t learned to appreciate the joys of shopping, the aroma of barbequed sausage and the strains of street music.  

Wise to keep them away from the cheese knives though.

Stay safe in the tree baby.

THE DROP BEAR DIARIES - CHAPTER 5 "ROAD TO PORT ARTHUR"

The drive from Hobart to the Port Arthur Historic Site on the Tasman Peninsula took us through an area that had been ravaged by fire in January 2013 - the fishing village of Dunalley.  The world looked in horror at the iconic picture of the Holmes family taking refuge in the water under the dock, a wall of orange flame around them. 

Miracle after the fire
Eucalyptus regeneration

Bush fires are a part of Australia’s landscape.  Nature has adapted in interesting ways.  Eucalyptus trees are a case in point - fast growing, they allow light to get to other trees and plants growing around and beneath them. 

A fire will consume what is in its path but triggers the Eucalypt to drop its seeds into the newly fertilized ground once the fire has passed. Bright green buds sprout from scorched and blackened bark within weeks of a blaze - an amazing regeneration as the Eucalypt takes over the landscape while eradicating the competition.  

Port Arthur Historic Site

Port Arthur was originally founded in 1830 as a timber station but its isolation made it the perfect location for a prison. Converted into Australia’s most notorious prison colony, the facility was designed to house convicts who had re-offended since their transportation for other crimes. 

The concept of corporal punishment slowly gave way to new methods of rehabilitation, including hard labour and enforced silence. Those who did not survive the ordeal were buried on a small offshore Island cemetery.

Ferry from Port Arthur to the Boys prison on Point Puer

The first of its kind in the British Empire, an experimental boys prison on nearby Point Puer island was established in an attempt to rehabilitate, educate and provide skills training for the youngsters away from Port Arthur’s hardened criminals. 

Room with a view

Escape from the prison was next to impossible. Surrounded by water on three sides, the narrow stretch of land beyond the prison was guarded by an interesting sentinel - a dog line.

Cellblock ruins

Dogs were stationed across the Eaglehawk neck isthmus to act as an early warning system for prison sentries that an inmate had escaped. 

Today the Port Arthur Historic Site is akin to an open air museum, set in tranquil, expansive grounds. There was a lot to see and experience.

Making our way home to Kettering we stopped at a Tasmanian Devil conservation park, arriving just in time for supper - theirs not ours! 

Tasmanian Devil - I get a lot of bad press

This endangered carnivorous marsupial is Tasmania’s poster child but sadly a facial skin cancer has reduced its numbers dramatically and conservation efforts are working hard to reduce the impact of the disease.  

The size of a small dog, the Tasmanian Devil is stocky and muscular with black fur and an ear piercing screech.  Complete with bad table manners, the Devil is positively ferocious while eating.  As it rips flesh from the bone, it snarls and snorts, exposing impressive teeth that pulverise food, bones and all.

Back in the day, the powers that be had considered using Drop Bears as sentinels for the Prison rather than dogs. The plan failed because the prison inmates had been in Australia too long and were now considered "locals".  As you have learned Drop Bears only target non-Australians.

THE DROP BEAR DIARIES - CHAPTER 4 "THRILLS, BUT NO SPILLS, ON THE BRUNY ISLAND ECOTOUR"

Kitted out and ready to go!

In typical Tasmanian style the weather was undecided as to what kind of day it would be.

At the Bruny Island Ferry dock inky clouds came and went, bolts of sunshine pierced the sky and the wind howled. White caps on the water, we appreciated the skill of the local boaters, there were a lot.

The Mirambeena pulled away from the Kettering dock and made the 12 minute crossing to Roberts Point on Bruny Island. Barely time to get out of the car and we had arrived.

Bruny Island is actually two small land masses joined by a narrow, sandy isthmus.  The population is only 600 and the topography is made up of grazing land and large tracts of eucalyptus forest.

Soaked in blowhole spray

Sea caves in the 
dolerite rockface

We were off to explore the rugged seaward side of the island and its stark, vertical cliffs of Dolerite, courtesy of Bruny Island Cruises.  

Billed as an eco adventure, the cruise boat was open, fast and equipped with seat belts.  

The weather continued to be changeable. At times the sea was rough but we bounced our way through the waves, securely strapped into our seats.  

"Praying Madonna" and "King
on a Llama" - The Monument

We followed the coastline alongside stunning natural cliff formations, among the tallest in the world.  

Motoring up close to deep sea caves, the “breathing rock” and impressive blowholes we passed through a narrow gap between land and “The Monument” eventually leaving the Tasman Sea for the Great Southern Ocean.  

Albatross, gannet, shearwater, cormorants and petrel birds flew overhead while seals played in the waves.

Encounter with a Blue Ringed Octopus - Roger
and Julie looking quite unsympathetic

We did get soaked and returning to the Operator’s base camp ashore were grateful for the delicious home made pumpkin soup which thawed us out nicely.   

Today had been a close shave - a Drop Bear was ready to pounce on Myra as we waited for the Bruny Island ferry.  Luckily she got into the car just in time and the Drop Bear landed on the roof crashing into Roger’s artisan designer coffee and sending it down the windshield.  

It remains a mystery why the coffee was on the car roof in the first place.