Log Fifty – Tasmanian Travels

16 February 2019

This the first of my ramblings for 2019 and the first from Australia in nearly two and a half years. While this adventure might still technically be overseas I am not sure an overnight trip on a ferry to Tasmania qualifies for a true ‘overseas’ experience.

We are now in the land of Tasmanian Devils, wooden boats, wilderness and amazing food of all descriptions.

Crossing Bass Strait

Being an island there are but three options to get here; you are born in Tasmania, you fly or you travel by boat. We chose to travel on the ferry with our car and caravan.

As with all ship travel at some stage there is the obligatory safety briefing. As expected we were given an explanation on how many blasts of the siren indicated we should proceed to the muster stations and how many indicated abandon ship. Of course this would never happen. We went to sleep in our cozy but comfortable cabin on very calm seas.

 

Some two hours later I am awoken and all I can hear are blasts from the ship’s horn. OK, you have my attention; does this mean off to my muster station in my PJs or what? Bass Strait will be bloody cold in my PJs. Just a second how many blasts on the siren meant muster stations; I think it was seven. My counting in my half awake state is something like six, seven, eight, nine……….fifteen, sixteen….. Just a second wasn’t it seven blasts and now we are at twenty two. This is not muster stations it’s probably another ship in our way. No need to panic, go back to sleep, no proceeding to the ship’s lounge to see what everyone else wears to bed; not tonight.

We arrived next morning in the port of Devonport after a very relaxing crossing with no ill effects or even a hint of motion sickness.

Wooden Boat Festival

The prime motivator for this trip was the Hobart Wooden Boat Festival that only happens every two years. Now I am not about to get into boating and certainly not a wooden boat and all the work that is involved. No my interest is purely in the beauty of wooden boast, their history and the craftsmanship that goes into building these craft.

 

 

Scallop Pies

We were determined to sample the legendary Tasmanian scallop pies. Our first attempt ended in disappointment when told the purveyor had sold out. All was not lost as we were assured nine cases of pies had been delivered to another outlet and he was sure to have plenty of the sought after pies.

We set off across the harbour to find the man who was ‘sure’ to have pies. Yes, you guessed it he had also sold out. We accepted this as it was just after lunchtime. So tomorrow we would be back and the successful purchase of the pies would be assured.

Next day we headed straight to the pie man only to be told he had already sold out and it wasn’t even lunchtime! Damn it do these pies exist? Maybe we are in the scallop pie version of the Monty Python cheese shop scene?

The wooden boat festival ended without us scoring a scallop pie.

Fortunately our travels took us to the remote south of Tasmania where we were confident scallop pies would be found. Success at last, a restaurant come coffee shop in the village of Geeveston proudly advertised scallop pies. Failed again, no pies, the shop was closed; we were too late.

Back the next day we finally scored our scallop pies. Bliss and joy, and they were well worth the wait.

Scallop pies are something all traveller’s to this island should sample. I was however starting to think scallop pies had gone the way of the Tasmania Tiger, extinct.

Toilet Story

As I have previously said all good travellers’ tales require a toilet story. True to form this trip has its obligatory loo story.

We visited a road side loo that obviously used the nearby creek water for flushing. Unfortunately the creek water was deeply coloured by the tannins from the vegetation. Yes, the water was a chocolate brown. I’ll say no more except to say it was rather disconcerting.

Seahorse Centre

We have visited one of the very few sea horse breeding centres in the world. I am not sure what the world does with the thousands of sea horses bred at this centre but it was fun to see such numbers of the little creatures and to have the them twist their tails around your finger.

Did you know the sea horse is one of the few animals where it is the male that gives birth to the young. I am not sure what evolutionary quirk caused the males of this species to think birthing the young would be a good idea and that they should do it in preference of the females. I am glad they did not become role models for all other males.

 

Mawson’s Hut

In Hobart there is a wonderful replica of Doug Mawson’s hut. This is a full scale replica of the hut seventeen men lived on Antartica for three years around 1911. Consider the living conditions: the men were lucky to bathe every 18 days, they ate seal and pengiun and no fresh fruit or veggies, the hut never got above 4c (39f) and the average outside speed was 70 kph (44 mph). The smell of all those wet woollen garments and the body odours must have been something to behold and for three years!

 

Convict Labour and Colonial Villages

After the American war of independance some 70,000 government sponsored boat people arrived in Australia. These were the ‘convict’ years. There early immigrants were out to work cutting timber, mining coal, clearing the land, boat building and building townships. The efforts of these ne’er-do-wells are everywhere to be seen across Tasmania especially in the construction of bridges and colonial villages and towns. Many of these buildings are now coffee shops and bakeries. When you come to Tasmania come prepared to eat and drink well.

 

 

More to come……