WE STEP ASHORE IN TASMANIA, CLEAN A CLAGGY CAT AND DEAL WITH ANOTHER PROBLEM IN THE DELIGHTFUL DISCOVERY HOLIDAY PARK DEVONPORT (16 OCTOBER 2017)

I think 'fitful' would best describe the sleep we had overnight as our good ship forged its way relentlessly across Bass Strait. Our narrow berths were comfortable enough and the ship's inescapable motion was not in the least alarming, but this was all brand new and pretty damned exciting.

I was determined to be on deck for our docking in Devonport. We were due in at about 0600 hours. The alarm duly shrilled in cabin 7727 at 0500 hours to summons yours truly to the head where my first challenge for the day was to master the intricacies of the shower taps. These were not entirely straightforward, and I was more than glad I had made sure I understood their operation soon after we had boarded, when I was actually wide awake.

But all went well. Showered and shaved, and more than ready for the day, I was on deck in plenty of time to feel the engines slow and 

to photograph the dockside lights as we edged into the mouth of the Mersey River, Devonport, TASMANIA!

The day had dawned grey and chilly but as the ship was eased with impressive finesse in towards her dock, 

and finally secured alongside, we had little time to be concerned with the weather.

Packed and ready to do the bidding of the Purser's loudspeaker message, we joined the throng clambering to descend to the vehicle decks. Needless to say, our first priority once we had reached 5 deck was to see how Max had fared. One look into his kennel provided the answer we were dreading....not well!

The mess in his cage and on his bedding was clear evidence of the fact that he had obviously been sea-sick and terrified. Max had let go from both ends, copiously, and in the close confines of his cage had not been able to avoid lying in the result. This normally fastidiously clean cat was an utterly bedraggled, smelly mess, a picture of total misery. 

As you can probably understand we both felt dreadful, but it was now over (almost), and with his nibs transferred into his travelling cage, I think for the first time ever he was actually grateful to find himself in the back of the Cruiser. We were firmly resolved that Max would not be subjected to this distress on our return voyage, but I'll have more to say about that in a later missive.

On the dot of 0630 hours, as announced, the vehicles by which we were surrounded began to move. The deck was cleared of the other two rows with commendable speed

and then it was our turn to ease forward through the stern of the ship

and out onto the docking platform which was, at this point, (obviously) set for 5 deck.

As we made our way past the rows of semi trailers all lined up for boarding once the ship had been cleared of those arriving, it really hit us....we were here at last....on Terra firma in 'Terra Tassie'.

Any feelings of arrival euphoria were short lived. We had a cat to clean and a park to find.

The second of these two immediate demands was more easily achieved than the first. After one false turn we found our way to the entrance of the Discovery Holiday Park, Devonport (these photos were taken a day or so later....so just imagine the skies were leaden rather than azure).

It was still far too early to make our entrance, so we hove to at the kerb by a nearby park, opened the van and set about doing our best to bring one crappy cat back to his normal clean and self-respecting best.

Our best efforts at this point were less than entirely successful, but at least we managed to rid Max of the worst of the grot, to the point where he could at least move about without leaving a decidedly unacceptable trail behind him. 

But, dear readers, the smell remained, and it was rotten, particularly in the confines of the van. And wouldn't you know it, no amount of coaxing would get Max outside for a walk on his lead, something he would normally jump at. "Bugger that", I am sure he thought, "I'm back where I belong again and I ain't moving.....you two can share some of what I've had to put up with for the past 12 hours".

And share it we did as we spent the next hour and a half awaiting the 0830 hours park office opening. 

Needless to say, I was at the park office door on the dot, only to discover that our site was still occupied. Undaunted and determined, I immediately prowled the park to find that the site next to that we had been assigned was vacant. "Yes, Mr Marshman, you can take 26 if you like."

We liked, indeed we liked...and in seriously short order we were through the entrance gate, past the office,

and along the roadway 

which took us down to our site.

Here we backed on and set up in record time before going about finally restoring Max to his normal state.

Now this had been no easy task to date and did not get any easier. I'll not bore you with the gory details, other than to say that despite our efforts to avoid it, we soon realised that we had no choice but to inflict one final indignity on our long suffering furry friend.......that horror of horrors for most moggies....a bath!

And I am here to tell you that if bathing a cat can be difficult at the best of times, try doing it in a caravan sink!  But needs must as they say, and in he went, bum first, with Liz valiantly sponging away whilst yours truly clung grimly to his two front legs to ensure that neither of us was shredded in the process. 

Needless to say, The Black Panther had by now regained enough of his fighting spirit to make his displeasure very clearly felt, and believe me, an angry cat can be a disturbingly strong animal. 

But we finally prevailed, and with one highly indignant, but now sweet smelling feline wrapped like a swaddled baby in drying towels, I set about mopping down the galley and half the floor. So we ended up with a clean cat and a clean van, two for the price of one! 

But, wait, there's more! Just when we thought we had restored good order inside and out, and were about to set off exploring Devonport, the day dealt us yet another unwelcome blow. Murphy had clearly travelled with us and made his presence felt again, this time in the form of a snapped off door handle. 

What next? And of course, we were both outside when it happened, now locked out, and where were my glasses and tools...correct, inside!

With of stroke of nothing else but sheer luck, the Cruiser was still unlocked. With spare glasses perched on the end of my decidedly out of joint nose, and a large screwdriver retrieved from the main tool kit, I set to, not rejoicing I can tell you. This was the last thing we needed now.

After considerable time and effort, and a deal of what could best be described as quite colourful language, I managed to manipulate what was left of the handle mechanism and open the door. Step one achieved.

Believe it or not, after a similar experience in Carnarvon just over three years ago, we have always carried a spare handle, and after a quick refresher course, courtesy of the relevant U Tube video, and a couple of false starts, we finally removed what was left of the offending lever and replaced it with a new one. Even knowing what we were doing, more or less, this still took over an hour (it is a very tricky job) but at last we were now shipshape. Peace prevailed at last.

Devonport sports a number of caravan parks, and having now seen them all, I can say that our choice of the Discovery Holiday Park was a wise one. This was indeed the pick. Let me show you around.

As you could see from the first site photo, we found ourselves parked on gravel, but each site in this part of the park also provided a grassed area for client comfort. This all worked very well, once our extended awning tie down ropes had finally deterred an obnoxious trio behind us from constantly wandering through our patch en route to and from the heads.

Before we set off on the standard park ramble, I've included a site map to show the quite unusual layout of this delightful park, which included two circular groups of cabins. 

Beginning back at the entrance, opposite the office, the tone of this park is set by this little garden area,














beyond which is the park 'weather gauge',














standing in a bed of flowering tulips.

I rather doubt that this would rate highly amongst those responsible for accurate or scientific forecasting, 

but it was indicative of what we came to recognise as a feature of this park...gardens and a sense of humour. I particularly liked the last entry.






Just behind the weather forecaster, we came to the first circle of cabins, 












each of which was set off with yet more well kept gardens












and faced onto a central lawned area.

At this end of the park we found the camp kitchen and the adjacent dark coloured building which houses the park 'movie theatre'.

The kitchen was spotlessly clean and very well set up















and even included a row of herb planter boxes along one wall to assist those using this facility to rise above mere meal mediocrity.













Here too we found another couple of examples of the park management's sense of humour. 

Mind you , I'm not sure that this one might not give irresponsible dog owners a bit of licence!









In addition to the facilities on offer in the camp kitchen, this small enclosed hut was home to an immaculately clean hooded BBQ which certainly provided more cooking options than an open plate or grill and in sheltered comfort. This was Tassie after all (as we were soon to discover!) 

The Discovery Holiday Park here in Devonport is virtually on the seafront, separated from the water by a walking path and a linear coastal park. Many of those in residence in the second circle of park cabins











would be able to gaze out over the waters of Bass Strait whilst sipping on their afternoon libations (or drinks at any time of the day for that matter).







Visiting children are well catered for at this end of the park with a bouncy pillow and nearby playground which would hopefully offer fun for the kids and periods of welcome respite for frazzled parents. 







And as you can see, all about was grass and more grass and we human guests were not the only ones making the most of it. As I was wandering about through this area I heard the distinctive harsh call of a masked lapwing, but at first could not see it.  



Normally these ugly, and, during the breeding season (which was now) often highly aggressive birds, can be seen stalking about on their long spindly legs, but this one was lying low in the grass.....and the reason was soon clear.  She was siting on a clutch of four eggs. I was immediately on  the lookout for the male partner. 


We have been swooped at Kurrimine Beach by the northern cousins of this broody bird more times than we care to remember in similar circumstances. I suppose this is unsurprising given the fact that lapwings (commonly and incorrectly called plovers) spend no excess time or energy constructing a secure nest of any sort, but merely plonk their eggs on a patch of grass (anywhere) and duly squat, completely exposed, for the required incubation period. Aggressive defence of these totally inefficient nesting sites then becomes a constant, but in this case all this one did was stalk off until I had moved on before returning to the task at hand. This was indeed a first.






After this surprisingly benign encounter with a nesting lapwing, I strolled back past the row of park en suite sites










to the dual row of vans which included ours (centre shot) now firmly of the view that we had indeed made a good choice in selecting this park.











As I mentioned previously, the sites here are more than comfortable, and ours had the added advantage of being directly opposite the large park amenities building.






Here, apart from efficient facilities we came across another of this park's little oddities, something which has obviously been a part of park life here for some time.





In a corner of the deck which leads to the different sections of the heads, this pile of small, smooth rocks attracted my attention. They all appeared to have writing on them, and indeed they did.











Many who have been here before us have obviously felt the need to leave a small testimonial to that fact, and if this date is to be believed, this is far from a recent phenomenon.











Some detailed much more recent occupation,









whilst others demonstrated significant effort (and wit) such as this one gleaming under its coat of varnish. We actually know a travelling 'Frog', but he does not live at Tweed Heads.

This was but one spot in which these odd little tributes were to be found. Ah, but do they now contain one bearing witness to the visit of the Mobile Marshies?  What do you think?