12th of August - Bruny Island

The day chronicled in this blog post commenced with something of a disappointment. We had hoped to catch a ferry across to Maria Island, which lies some way to the south of Freychinet, and participate in a few more walks there, and the previous day had indeed called the ferry in the hopes of securing two seats. The gentleman I spoke with already seemed unhopeful of our success, as at that time all the spots were already spoken for, though he did assure me he would call should the situation change and somebody change their plans. Some time later in that day (shortly before arriving at our accomodation) I received a rather perplexing phone call. Upon answering it I was met by, at first, silence, then a somewhat bewildered woman who thought I had called her. Evidently there had been some kind of error where she had dialed my number (probably the last in the call list) without realising it. For it was indeed the same number I had called earlier in my fruitless attempt to book the ferry, and the ensuing strange conversation only further confirmed the afore stated situation.

A little cove on the walk to the Gulch

Nevertheless, on the next day (the very one this post is intended to be about) we headed to the ferry in the hopes that somebody would not show up. But alas! This was not to be, and we found ourselves waiting at the departure point in vain. "No matter", we told ourselves with resolve, for we had already formulated a backup plan. One way or another we would visit an island that day, and by Jove we would go on a walk! So we hopped in our car and expedited slantways, southwest, through Hobart and to the ferry for Bruny Island, where, the website assured us, we would have no trouble catching the boat. And indeed we were able to cross without problem, and soon found ourselves merrily driving through the island, stopping at every enticing locality that sold local cheese, beer or chocolate that we saw (and Bruny, like the rest of Tasmania, has no shortage of such places) until we arrived at the beginning of the most appropriate walk we were able to research in such a short time.

The Gulch, with Penguin Island on the right

The walk in question, in retrospect, sounds more like the plot of a pirate story - we were to trek across the dark sands passed adventure bay, ford a river then traverse muddy tracks through the forest along the shoreline until we reached the ruins of the whaler's hut. Then we could round the (I assume) nameless cape until we reached the Gulch, with Penguin Island on its far side. Thinking on it now, I regret not braving the freezing waters of the Gulch to climb upon that island, as I am certain it must have had some buried treasure. But we were on the lookout for a different kind of treasure, of the natural kind. Bruny island, you see, is home to a very rare kind of Wallaby - namely one with white fur, which exists nowhere else in the world.

More scenery around the Gulch

Though the cape, the Gulch and the Island were beautiful, in that wild, rugged way much of Tasmania is, we slowly despaired of sighting this elusive creature. We kept our eyes open on the whole trip back, and nearly gave up. But fortune, it would seem, was on our side this day. Remember the river crossing on our way up, and the difficulty we had in keeping our feet dry, we decided on a different course of return - namely through a vacant caravan park undergoing refurbishment.

The best picture I could take of the White Wallaby

Despite the signs warning us it was a construction site, we persevered, and I still cannot believe my luck, but at the far end I spotted it! A white Wallaby! Both of us managed to take a number of quite blurry pictures of it, but as one can imagine they are shy creatures, and it disappeared into the bush before we could get close.

Nevertheless we were elated at this encounter, which kept us from being entirely dejected as our bad luck with ferries continued - we just missed the second last ferry back by about five minutes, and the final one for the evening would not come for another hour. Well, so be it. It had nonetheless been a superb day, and we did not regret having come here instead of Maria.