Sailing Taurus NZ

We had arrived in Macquarie Harbour on the 29th of June, anchoring outside the only town of Strahan which is located in the north east corner.

Before exploring the local area we needed to restock the boat and we had a parcel to pick up. Cara is a keen paddle boarder, where as I used to be an enthusiastic multi-sporter (running, biking, and kayaking), so we carry on board a paddle board and an inflatable kayak for our respective uses. Paddle boarding, however, can be difficult in choppy anchorages, so we decided that another kayak would give us greater flexibility to explore bays, rivers, and so on together. I had looked into the various options available before making my initial purchase, and had decided on an American brand called Advanced Elements. This company makes inflatable kayaks that are actual usable kayaks, rather than inflatable toys. Having been very happy with my purchase we quickly decided to buy Cara one of these, though our frugal inclinations demanded that we wait until the kayaks came on sale. When they did we ordered one through Oz Kayaks, who offer free postage, and arranged for it to be sent to Strahan.

With the kayak uplifted from the kind people at Strahan Post Office, we spent the afternoon paddling around Risby Cove, the bay that Strahan is built around. As we mooched around we saw a yacht enter the Cove and kayaked over to say hello. This meeting turned out to be a stroke of serendipity. The sailor proved to be one Trevor Norton, a local legend who has sailed in this area, commercially and privately, for decades. An architect by trade, Trevor took it upon himself to add detail to the local charts and invited us to his home for a coffee and a chat about the local navigation hazards.

Trevor’s ‘man cave’ is an Aladdin’s Cave of sailing memorabilia, and the man himself a mine of information. The hand drawn charts he showed us made our subsequent exploration of the area vastly better informed and safer.

Armed with Trevor’s charts we were ready to leave, but a moment of foolishness stopped us in our tracks. Our gas solenoid, a safety device which remotely turns off the LPG gas that our cooker uses, began to leak stray current. We monitor this carefully, as stray current in a steel boat can cause corrosion issues. We carry a spare solenoid so decided to exchange old for new. However, trying to rush the job as darkness and the temperature fell, I stripped one of the small gas unions. It was at this point that we realised that we had no spare onboard. It is only when you have to source an unusual part that you realise how limited local resources can be. There was no part and no gas fitter to be found in the wider area, so we had to order something from the nearest town, Burnie. It turned up surprisingly quickly, but for a couple of days we had no gas, so no coffee in the mornings and we had to eat out in the evening. It was a timely reminder to carry adequate spares, and not to rush maintenance work.

With the cooker back in service we were finally free to go. In the calm conditions we motored the length of the harbour and picked up the southern mooring in Kelly Basin. There are several moorings available to the public in the area, and all seem to be well maintained. The stillness and tranquility was exceptional.

After a couple of relaxing days we moved to the northern mooring, another beautiful space that was handy to the deserted town of East Pillinger and the Bird River walk.

Established in 1897, East Pillinger was once a thriving mining town with a population of over a thousand people. Commercial misfortune led to the town’s abandonment, with most families moving to Strahan by the early 1920s. The last residents left in the 1940s and since then the bush has been allowed to reclaim the land that had been stolen from it. Today, a few remaining ruins make for a thought provoking walk.

The Kelly Basin walk, also known as the Bird River walk, is one of the great Tasmanian short walks. At about 12 kilometres long the walk takes 3-4 hours return, and follows a generally gentle incline along what was once a railway line. There are a few muddy patches, that can often be avoided, and plenty of slippery roots, so decent boots are a good idea.

The following day we left Kelly Basin and motored the short distance to Sarah Island. Sarah Island was home to the first penal settlement in Tasmania, established in 1822. The prison was a ‘banishment settlement,’ used to punish Australian inmates who had reoffended or tried to escape. That the entrance to Macquarie Harbour became known as ‘Hell’s Gates’ gives some idea as to the places reputation. Starvation, dysentery, and scurvy were rampant, punishment was often severe (over 9,000 lashes were awarded to the inmates in 1823 alone), and one prisoner, known only by his surname -Trenham, killed another man simply to face execution and escape the misery of the place. However, the deprivation and cruelty of the early years was slowly turned around, and eventually the island morphed into a hive of local industry, becoming the biggest ship building yard in the British colonies.

Anchoring some little distance to the south, due to rapid shoaling of the bottom, we took our dinghy ashore only to find that the two closest jetties had been destroyed by recent storms. Ultimately we tied up out of the way on the commercial ferry’s jetty.

The ruins are in poor condition compared to those at Port Arthur, but they give some idea of the what the prison was once like. Perhaps the most poignant building is the solitary confinement block. Here men could be kept for up to fourteen days on a diet of bread and water for infringements such as possessing fish hooks. It seems the fear was that inmates would be able to preserve and stockpile food for potential escape attempts. The walls of the ‘grave size’ cells are half a metre thick, presumably for sound proofing, and so increase the sensory deprivation of the incarcerated. A number of names and initials could be seen scratched into the bricks, but the earliest date we found was 1890, long after the settlement had been closed down in favour of the Port Arthur site.

The tourist ferry turned up after lunch and disgorged its passengers. With the permission of the guide we tagged along to learn some more of the history, which was quite a different experience to having the place all to ourselves.

Once the ferry left we didn’t linger long. Instead we took the dinghy the short distance to Hallidays Island where over eighty inmates are apparently buried. Sadly, we couldn’t find any trace of their final resting places.

Returning to Taurus we lifted the anchor and motored to Birchs Narrows before turning east behind Shamrock Point. As evening fell the mirror like finish of the water was simply remarkable; the two blinding suns making it appear an almost alien world.

The day before, we had yelled a quick hello to a fellow sailor in the channel outside our anchorage, and he had yelled back an invitation for coffee at a hut ashore.

We raised the anchor in a light morning mist replete with rainbow, moved Taurus around the corner, and took the kayaks to a small beach where we could see some chairs set out.

The sailor turned out to be Max, a man who at nearly 90-years old (his 90th birthday was the following week) still takes his 12 metre sloop out solo. Max and a friend had built the hut on the site of an old loggers hut with the permission of the Tasmanian Parks and Wildlife Service. Apparently during the process they had flown an Aboriginal elder all the way down from Sydney to vet the idea, and he had merely said, “this is nice” before being flown back.

Max’s hut is a wonderful space to spend a few days and get away from the stresses and burdens of civilisation. The over-size fire keeps the place toasty, whilst the large windows let in a flood of light and give views through the forest to the beach. All are welcome here, though you may need to bring your own gas bottle if you don’t want to have to cook on the wood burner.

A short walk away Max showed us a dinghy dock that perches over a shallow river which runs to the beach. He pointed out some Huon Pine whose branches hung out over the water. These trees were found to be perfect for boat building due to their rot resistant properties, and so became the focus of a major logging industry in the nineteenth and twentieth centuries, which naturally enough decimated the resource. The remaining trees are strictly protected, but growing only 2mm a year it will be centuries, if not millennia, before the Huon Pine recovers.

We regretfully left Max and his slice of paradise and headed towards the Gordon River at the south eastern corner of Macquarie Harbour. The Gordon River is over 170 kms long, and the lower stretches, often 30 metres deep, are easily navigable by boat.

The channel at the river mouth is indicated by pile markers, but once inside there are few hazards. Perhaps the greatest lies below the surface. We had been warned by a couple of locals to try and avoid anchoring in the river. The depth and dark tannin stained water provide few clues as to what lurks below, and should a boulder or submerged tree trap your anchor you may have to kiss it, and your chain, an expensive goodbye. We later had cause to go diving in the Macquarie, and I can testify to the difficulties that the cold water and near zero visibility create. If you head this way, follow the advise we were given and tie up to jetties or trees that stretch out across the water.

After motoring for a few hours we came to Heritage Landing. A well maintained jetty here is used everyday by the large tourist catamaran based in Strahan. We knew that it would arrive at about 10:00 am so felt confident that we wouldn’t be in their way if we left first thing in the morning. A short walk ashore was well worth while. Elevated boardwalks kept our feet dry whilst the information boards introduced us to various local trees.

One issue of note was the failure of our C-Map charts (used on our chart plotter) to provide information that would allow us to navigate the river. Fortunately our backup Navionics system picked up the slack, so that together with Trevor’s paper charts we weren’t entirely in the dark.

Next morning the weather was cool and showery. We cast off our mooring lines before the commercial ferry appeared and headed further up stream. Our destination was Sir John Falls, about 13 NMs or 3 hours slow motoring away. We were about halfway when our engine alarm alerted us to a problem. The alternator, it turned out, was producing a mere 10 amps, down from its standard 40 or 50 amps. We silenced the alarm but there was nothing we could do about the alternator beyond checking for loose wires. We talked about turning back, but ultimately decided to keep going and hope that we didn’t end up stuck up the river without a paddle, or engine in our case, which is much the same thing.

The scenery was incredible and we tied up at Warners Landing, opposite Sir John Falls, to find a launch also tied up. We soon after met the crew, brothers Michael and William, and were invited on-board Sea-Eagle for tea, and later port.

The kindness and generosity of cruisers we meet never fails to surprise and delight, and so it was that the next day Michael came over to offer us the use of his powerful dinghy to head further up the Gordon River and visit one of its tributaries, the Franklin River. The Franklin River is iconic in Australia, due to its un-spoilt beauty and to the fact that it and the Gordon were almost lost to a damning scheme in the 1980s. Public protests eventually scuppered the project, and the Franklin has ever since been linked with environmentalism and the power of the people.

We couldn’t head further up stream in Taurus, and there was no way that we would have attempted the journey to the Franklin with our little 3.3 hp outboard engine (our 8hp Yamaha is currently out of action), so not wanting us to miss out, Michael made his generous offer.

Before leaving we had to visit the Sir John Falls and explore the walk to the nearby Perched Lake. The waterfall was pretty impressive and it was great to be able to take the kayaks there and get much closer than the viewing platform allows.

The walk on the other hand was not so great! The path was very muddy in places, and the markers showing where the path lay were often inadequate or missing. Once we had entered the forest proper we had to detour around fallen trees on several occasions, and it was often a struggle to re-find the path on the other side. When finally we got to the lake the view was decidedly average. My advice to people thinking of doing the walk would be to make sure you have plenty of daylight. It’s easy to get lost and you probably don’t want to spend the night in the woods. Also, wear gumboots and waterproofs! You quickly get soaked pushing through the wet undergrowth!

We said our goodbyes to Michael and William the following morning and turned Taurus about to head downstream. Our engine alarm was still switched off as the alternator was still playing up. We were still getting 10 amps out of it, so could manage our power adequately, and, ultimately, there was nothing we could do about it anyway. The alternator was a problem for another day. Instead of worrying we sat back and enjoyed the views. Que sera sera as Doris Day would say.

Next time: we try to fix Taurus (yet again), we do the Strahan tourist trail, and we go diving to help friends out of a ropey situation.