"Why don't you put the cruiser on the ferry and go a cross for a day trip?" This was the suggestion we received from several quarters, together with comments such as, "there is not that much to see"....."it's not a very big island" and so on.
These were the very words I had heard used so often from folk contemplating a trip to my much loved Kangaroo Island. I knew from long experience that islands can be traps for young players....once there, many travellers have been left lamenting their failure to plan when the realisation that their time allocation has been lamentably brief hits home.
Just as we had hopefully allowed sufficient time to really see the 'island off an island', we decided that to do justice to the 'island, off an island, off an island' (as the tourist tomes trumpet), we would bite the bullet and allocate a week, based partly on our research and equally importantly on a close examination of the longer term weather forecast, some of which was less than inviting.
One factor which did not come into play in our thinking was cost. The ferry fare across 'the channel' was surprisingly modest. The good tars and true who ply these waters even offered an old farts' discount (for which yours truly has long since qualified), the result of which was that we hauled our entire rig there and back for what seemed to us to be the almost ridiculously cheap fee of $65.
Ah, but did we make the right decision? As it transpired we did indeed. Apart from all there was to see, we suffered through one day completely housebound as we sat out a fierce storm, and spent another somewhat limited in our activities by the weather, but more of that later.
So, after my return from the 'funeral' trip to Adelaide, we got ourselves organised. During my absence Liz had soldiered on bravely through some seriously ordinary weather, ensconced as we were for convenience at the Hobart Airport Caravan Park, yet again.
This time we decided to settle on one of the large, rather dreary sites at the rear of the park where we had much more room, but here poor old Liz learnt at first hand..... and I from frustrating afar on the end of a telephone giving instructions on how to fit the tie down strap......that the wind whistles across the flats which these sites face.
Thankfully all remained intact and it was now time to pull down and get cracking. There was, however, one more task at hand.....an inspection and potential repair to our malfunctioning air conditioner, the very one which had supposedly been sorted in Emerald by the staff at Bill White's Electrical some months previously. You may recall that I was less than convinced by the efforts of the little chap who had scrambled around the roof and interior for some time to eventually pronounce that he could find nothing wrong. Good effort.....it failed us on our second use in Hobart.
Liz had scouted around seeking help during my absence, and, after some false starts had been advised by our good friends from Alpha Caravans (another plug....great folk) to contact The Heat Pump Shop. She did so, explained our problem to the unfailingly obliging (and as it transpired highly efficient) Andrew, and an appointment was duly made.
So before making our way south to the ferry terminal at Kettering, we were first off to the Hobart suburb of Goodwood, where I was presented with the rather interesting challenge of reversing into the narrow confines of the workshop. But all went well, and in no time Andrew and cohorts were head down in the roof top unit and peering at the workings inside.
After an hour and a half we were given the very welcome news that a 'thermidor' (don't ask me!) had failed. With a replacement installed, and with one fully functioning air conditioner humming through the last few minutes of its test run, we again prepared for a departure, this time for the ferry.
Just as I have sung the praises of Alpha Caravans, let me do so for The Heat Pump Shop, and Andrew in particular. Efficient, obliging expertise, delivered with no hint of superiority and a full explanation of what to do in the event of a future problem of a similar nature (the unit displays various warning codes) is a rare thing these days. Here it was delivered in spades....we departed confident and rejoicing.
Now I won't bore you with repeat shots of the road through Hobart city or the Southern Outlet...we've been there before, but I had to include these which Liz snapped as we passed through. The Hobart cruise liner season was underway....just look at how this monster
completely dwarfed the Hunter Street dock. What a different craft we were about to join.
The Bruny Island ferry operates out of the little Channel town of Kettering and within an hour of leaving The Heat Pump Shop we found ourselves driving past the hillside homes
on the short approach road to the ferry terminal and the rather daunting line up of waiting vehicles
we were about to join. We were heartened by the fact that we had done our homework and knew that if we could not fit on the first available vessel (there are no pre-bookings here....roll up and roll on is the system) it would not be too long before another was ready to take us.
At this point let me revert to a flash-back. Kettering is a stone's throw down the highway from Margate. During our stay we had done a recce to familiarise ourselves with the loading procedure. Whilst there we took the opportunity to test the menu at the Kettering Oyster Cove Inn, a pub about which we had heard good things.
If nothing else, we thought, its position should provide excellent views across the impressive Kettering marina.
A quick venture out onto the hotel deck beyond the dining room
proved that this hotel could well boast one of the finest marina views on the island. Kettering, as you can see, is home to many pleasure craft as well as providing port facilities for local and visiting professional line fishing and cray boats.
Well the exterior view was fine.....what about the dining room? Equally appealing I have to say,
and it was here that we were presented with two most excellent meals. Liz rejoiced in the fact that her vegetable stack was of superior quality
whilst my choice of grilled scallops (what a surprise!) with two dipping sauces left me more than pleased with our decision to dine here.
Both these offerings did nothing but enhance the fine reputation of the kitchen of the Kettering pub and, to our real surprise and delight, the wine list featured South Australian drops almost exclusively.
But this is not to say the locals are not looked after at what is a much vaunted tourist hotel. As we returned to our vehicle in the rear hotel parking lot,
I spied this previously unseen sign on the car park fence which so clearly demonstrated that at least one Kettering regular is well thought of. As you can probably imagine, my day was now complete!
But back to the present. From our position in the vehicle queue we could look down over one of the very busy Kettering docks.
We could also see along the row to the front of the marina cafe, restaurant and souvenir shop (what a surprise to find this here) and given that we had some time on our hands
I did make a short sortie, where from the rear alfresco area
I had a good view of the 'Mirambena', which was dockside, stern doors open, ready to take us on board (once the crew lunch break was over....but we knew about that too).
Then the starter's gun sounded, and eventually it was our turn to descend the ramp
and cosy up to our neighbours
on what was a tightly packed deck.
There was a palpable air of excitement amongst the assembled passengers, with one notable exception. "Hang on....this feels ominously as though I'm at sea again....what am I in for this time?"
The Black Panther had nothing to worry about. As we left Kettering in our wake,
the waters of the channel were but slightly rippled, all blue and benign beauty as we completed
the short fifteen minute crossing the the very much smaller docking facility on Bruny Island (BI from now on), above which a line of vehicles were queued awaiting the return trip.
Disembarking was interesting. This massive ramp was firstly raised to allow the smaller vehicles on the upper deck to make landfall
before it was lowered to allow us increasingly impatient lower deck departees
to (in our case) crawl up the quite steep departure road past the quaint BI dock cafe
and venture forth for the first leg of our rather long awaited BI adventure.
On the (good as it turned out) advice of folk we had met at Huonville, we had decided to spend our first two nights at Great Bay on north Bruny.
The term 'north Bruny' is relevant. This is the most oddly shaped island, one which on anything but small projections, appears as two, and there is a very good reason for that.....it almost is.
This island map, reproduced here with my thanks to 'TouringTasmania', will hopefully assist.
As you can now see, BI consists of two distinct land masses, joined by an extraordinarily narrow isthmus, 'The Neck', a real tourist attraction in its own right, and whilst the two sections of the island are not formally named as north and south (other than the South Bruny National Park), this is how they are universally known.
Our journey of less than twenty kilometres from the ferry terminal to Great Bay did not take long, but the sometimes winding hilly road
did give us a preliminary taste of the magnificent views over some of the hills and many bays
which are an integral part of the BI landscape.
Our camp at Great Bay was unusual in that it was located on the property of the BI landscape suppliers, and frankly, if we had not been told of it I rather suspect we could have sailed straight past without recognising it for what it was. But we were savvy to what went on here, and had made a booking, unnecessarily so as it transpired.
On presenting at the shop at the front of the property (just to the left of this photo...no idea why I didn't include it!) we were told to pick whatever spot we liked.
We did just that, choosing one just off the entrance driveway beyond the camp pizza oven (sadly unlit during our stay) and picnic benches
where for $15 a night we enjoyed not only good water and a power supply, but had wonderful views out over Great Bay, all in complete solitude.
This camp is both new and developing. It is not yet well known...we were it for the duration! Good grass and very friendly hosts.....we loved it.
As soon as we were set I was off. The pull of the sea was irresistible. Immediately opposite our driveway on the other side of the main BI road (where the local 60 kph speed limit was universally ignored....to the great distress of some who were later rightly caught in a well set radar trap) a short dirt road
led directly to a rocky point
and the adjacent Great Bay boat ramp.
This stretch of water is home to a number of large oyster leases, the black buoys of some of which I could just see in the distance.
In fact a local oyster boat was working a lease as I watched. One of the 'BI foodie tourist' ports of call was right next door to our camp....the fabulously named 'Get Shucked', but I'll have much more to say about BI food later.
For now I was enjoying a romp around the Great Bay shoreline, which varied from rocky ledges covered in samphire
to wide sweeps of white sand, now firm underfoot on a low tide.
These beach strips extended in both directions from the boat ramp, interspersed with rocky outcrops. What a spot, one we later discovered is very popular indeed during the summer holiday periods, for reasons we now well understood.
But the summer holidays were yet some distance away, and as evening fell and the darkening clouds gathering over the bay my mind was elsewhere.
The sky began to colour in the rays of the setting sun. I was hoping for a dash of late afternoon splendour,
and I was not disappointed. What a start this was. Could it possibly last?
For a while.......as we shall see shortly.
This time we decided to settle on one of the large, rather dreary sites at the rear of the park where we had much more room, but here poor old Liz learnt at first hand..... and I from frustrating afar on the end of a telephone giving instructions on how to fit the tie down strap......that the wind whistles across the flats which these sites face.
Thankfully all remained intact and it was now time to pull down and get cracking. There was, however, one more task at hand.....an inspection and potential repair to our malfunctioning air conditioner, the very one which had supposedly been sorted in Emerald by the staff at Bill White's Electrical some months previously. You may recall that I was less than convinced by the efforts of the little chap who had scrambled around the roof and interior for some time to eventually pronounce that he could find nothing wrong. Good effort.....it failed us on our second use in Hobart.
Liz had scouted around seeking help during my absence, and, after some false starts had been advised by our good friends from Alpha Caravans (another plug....great folk) to contact The Heat Pump Shop. She did so, explained our problem to the unfailingly obliging (and as it transpired highly efficient) Andrew, and an appointment was duly made.
So before making our way south to the ferry terminal at Kettering, we were first off to the Hobart suburb of Goodwood, where I was presented with the rather interesting challenge of reversing into the narrow confines of the workshop. But all went well, and in no time Andrew and cohorts were head down in the roof top unit and peering at the workings inside.
After an hour and a half we were given the very welcome news that a 'thermidor' (don't ask me!) had failed. With a replacement installed, and with one fully functioning air conditioner humming through the last few minutes of its test run, we again prepared for a departure, this time for the ferry.
Just as I have sung the praises of Alpha Caravans, let me do so for The Heat Pump Shop, and Andrew in particular. Efficient, obliging expertise, delivered with no hint of superiority and a full explanation of what to do in the event of a future problem of a similar nature (the unit displays various warning codes) is a rare thing these days. Here it was delivered in spades....we departed confident and rejoicing.
Now I won't bore you with repeat shots of the road through Hobart city or the Southern Outlet...we've been there before, but I had to include these which Liz snapped as we passed through. The Hobart cruise liner season was underway....just look at how this monster
completely dwarfed the Hunter Street dock. What a different craft we were about to join.
The Bruny Island ferry operates out of the little Channel town of Kettering and within an hour of leaving The Heat Pump Shop we found ourselves driving past the hillside homes
on the short approach road to the ferry terminal and the rather daunting line up of waiting vehicles
we were about to join. We were heartened by the fact that we had done our homework and knew that if we could not fit on the first available vessel (there are no pre-bookings here....roll up and roll on is the system) it would not be too long before another was ready to take us.
At this point let me revert to a flash-back. Kettering is a stone's throw down the highway from Margate. During our stay we had done a recce to familiarise ourselves with the loading procedure. Whilst there we took the opportunity to test the menu at the Kettering Oyster Cove Inn, a pub about which we had heard good things.
If nothing else, we thought, its position should provide excellent views across the impressive Kettering marina.
A quick venture out onto the hotel deck beyond the dining room
proved that this hotel could well boast one of the finest marina views on the island. Kettering, as you can see, is home to many pleasure craft as well as providing port facilities for local and visiting professional line fishing and cray boats.
Well the exterior view was fine.....what about the dining room? Equally appealing I have to say,
and it was here that we were presented with two most excellent meals. Liz rejoiced in the fact that her vegetable stack was of superior quality
whilst my choice of grilled scallops (what a surprise!) with two dipping sauces left me more than pleased with our decision to dine here.
Both these offerings did nothing but enhance the fine reputation of the kitchen of the Kettering pub and, to our real surprise and delight, the wine list featured South Australian drops almost exclusively.
But this is not to say the locals are not looked after at what is a much vaunted tourist hotel. As we returned to our vehicle in the rear hotel parking lot,
I spied this previously unseen sign on the car park fence which so clearly demonstrated that at least one Kettering regular is well thought of. As you can probably imagine, my day was now complete!
But back to the present. From our position in the vehicle queue we could look down over one of the very busy Kettering docks.
We could also see along the row to the front of the marina cafe, restaurant and souvenir shop (what a surprise to find this here) and given that we had some time on our hands
I did make a short sortie, where from the rear alfresco area
I had a good view of the 'Mirambena', which was dockside, stern doors open, ready to take us on board (once the crew lunch break was over....but we knew about that too).
Then the starter's gun sounded, and eventually it was our turn to descend the ramp
and cosy up to our neighbours
on what was a tightly packed deck.
There was a palpable air of excitement amongst the assembled passengers, with one notable exception. "Hang on....this feels ominously as though I'm at sea again....what am I in for this time?"
The Black Panther had nothing to worry about. As we left Kettering in our wake,
the waters of the channel were but slightly rippled, all blue and benign beauty as we completed
the short fifteen minute crossing the the very much smaller docking facility on Bruny Island (BI from now on), above which a line of vehicles were queued awaiting the return trip.
Disembarking was interesting. This massive ramp was firstly raised to allow the smaller vehicles on the upper deck to make landfall
before it was lowered to allow us increasingly impatient lower deck departees
to (in our case) crawl up the quite steep departure road past the quaint BI dock cafe
and venture forth for the first leg of our rather long awaited BI adventure.
On the (good as it turned out) advice of folk we had met at Huonville, we had decided to spend our first two nights at Great Bay on north Bruny.
The term 'north Bruny' is relevant. This is the most oddly shaped island, one which on anything but small projections, appears as two, and there is a very good reason for that.....it almost is.
This island map, reproduced here with my thanks to 'TouringTasmania', will hopefully assist.
As you can now see, BI consists of two distinct land masses, joined by an extraordinarily narrow isthmus, 'The Neck', a real tourist attraction in its own right, and whilst the two sections of the island are not formally named as north and south (other than the South Bruny National Park), this is how they are universally known.
Our journey of less than twenty kilometres from the ferry terminal to Great Bay did not take long, but the sometimes winding hilly road
did give us a preliminary taste of the magnificent views over some of the hills and many bays
which are an integral part of the BI landscape.
Our camp at Great Bay was unusual in that it was located on the property of the BI landscape suppliers, and frankly, if we had not been told of it I rather suspect we could have sailed straight past without recognising it for what it was. But we were savvy to what went on here, and had made a booking, unnecessarily so as it transpired.
On presenting at the shop at the front of the property (just to the left of this photo...no idea why I didn't include it!) we were told to pick whatever spot we liked.
We did just that, choosing one just off the entrance driveway beyond the camp pizza oven (sadly unlit during our stay) and picnic benches
where for $15 a night we enjoyed not only good water and a power supply, but had wonderful views out over Great Bay, all in complete solitude.
This camp is both new and developing. It is not yet well known...we were it for the duration! Good grass and very friendly hosts.....we loved it.
As soon as we were set I was off. The pull of the sea was irresistible. Immediately opposite our driveway on the other side of the main BI road (where the local 60 kph speed limit was universally ignored....to the great distress of some who were later rightly caught in a well set radar trap) a short dirt road
led directly to a rocky point
and the adjacent Great Bay boat ramp.
This stretch of water is home to a number of large oyster leases, the black buoys of some of which I could just see in the distance.
In fact a local oyster boat was working a lease as I watched. One of the 'BI foodie tourist' ports of call was right next door to our camp....the fabulously named 'Get Shucked', but I'll have much more to say about BI food later.
For now I was enjoying a romp around the Great Bay shoreline, which varied from rocky ledges covered in samphire
to wide sweeps of white sand, now firm underfoot on a low tide.
These beach strips extended in both directions from the boat ramp, interspersed with rocky outcrops. What a spot, one we later discovered is very popular indeed during the summer holiday periods, for reasons we now well understood.
But the summer holidays were yet some distance away, and as evening fell and the darkening clouds gathering over the bay my mind was elsewhere.
The sky began to colour in the rays of the setting sun. I was hoping for a dash of late afternoon splendour,
and I was not disappointed. What a start this was. Could it possibly last?
For a while.......as we shall see shortly.
No comments:
Post a Comment