Well, dear readers, I don't know about you, but I'm just a bit over New Norfolk for the time being. As I mentioned in my last, there was more to be seen here, including the fascinating Derwent River walk, but I plan to leave that for later. We came back to NN to use it as a base from which to visit Lake Pedder, Strathgordon and the Gordon River dam, so I plan to include the last of what we did here at that point.
Much as I loved NN and its surrounds, I was, by now, keen to return to the sea. The east coast beckoned brightly. We had arranged to stay with friends at Rosevears (just north of Launceston) for a period from mid December, and rather than make another run along the Midland Highway, we decided travel north by way of the east coast.
We had already planned to spend a month or so in this part of the state in March, well after the Xmas school holiday period, when we knew that every caravan park and free camp along this entire coastline would be characterised by crowding and chaos. We had been warned on more than one occasion by all in the know!
But we did need a change of scenery and rather than retrace our way north along the Midland Highway, we decided that an east coast recce could do no harm. That aside, this route included two more of the Tasmanian pubs on our 'pub crawl' list. It all gelled nicely.
The first overnight stay on our list was Triabunna. This fishing town is home to a local trawler fleet and is also popular as the port from which tourists can embark on the ferries which transport them across to the nearby Maria Island.
Today's trip of just less than 100 kms took us initially back along the southern side of the Derwent River, where the high towers of the Bridgewater road bridge could be seen in the distance, together with the most amazing number of black swans.
In all our travels we had never seen so many in one relatively small area (and these photos taken on the run so to speak to not really do these scenes complete justice). This was a 'lamentation' if ever there was one...most with heads down feeding.
It was clear from the number of cygnets clustered in busy little groups around many of the adult birds that this sheltered cove on the river was a breeding ground, and a highly successful one at that.
Bridgewater is the point on the River Derwent where the water 'officially' turns from salt to fresh. It is here that the 'sea estuary' formally becomes 'the river'. To what extent this is actually true I have no idea, nor do I know if this is relevant in relation to the swans' breeding.....all I can say is that there were hundreds and hundreds of them in this area.
We were both still shaking our heads in disbelief as we turned off the A10 and joined the steady line of traffic making its way towards this jaded but interesting old bridge.
Construction of this vertical lift bridge, which is the largest of its kind in Australia and one of only a few remaining in the Southern Hemisphere, began in 1939. WW2 saw an interruption to progress and the bridge ultimately came into service in 1946.
This photo by JJ Harrison, to whom I am indebted, shows the lifting section close to the northern bank of the river, a section reached by a causeway running out from the opposite side. I suspected that it was this barrier which created the ideal conditions upstream for the many swans we had just seen.
The lifting span is now used very infrequently, but this was not always the case. From the time of its construction until 1984, river traffic along this section of the Derwent was heavy. At Boyer, a few kilometres downstream from New Norfolk, the Australian Newsprint Mills, a massive paper mill on the northern bank of the river (now owned and operated by Norske Skog Paper), transported all its product by barge down the Derwent to Hobart.
This barge traffic was so heavy that a full time bridge keeper lived on site to operate the lift section but with the decision to transport this product by other means in 1984 the bridge keeper's role became redundant.
Although the Bridgewater bridge was built to last 100 years, it has not lived up to these engineering expectations. Whilst it is still functional (and just as well....the only other crossing points are either in Hobart of New Norfolk) it is not as structurally well as had been originally hoped, and a new bridge is on the drawing board. As to when the planned replacement actually becomes a reality is in the hands of the newly elected Tasmanian Government. I'll say no more!
Despite its shortcomings, I can happily report that the structure was more than sturdy enough to allow us to cross the river and we subsequently made our way onto the lesser used C325 and C321 which took us out into the rolling hills at the northern end of Hammonds Tier.
The Navigator was a bit busy for a while, but once we reached this junction we knew we were still on track. From here we travelled towards Richmond for about two kilometres before again turning off, this time onto eight kilometres of the C350.
This short hop brought us to the Tasman Highway (the A3), the major road (in name only in places) which runs north out of Hobart right up the east coast to St Helens from where it turns west through the massive mountain ranges of the north-east, though Scottsdale and thence south-west to Launceston.
The immediate task in front of us was the passage across the Prosser Ridge,
where more curves and hills reminded us of which State we were in.
As it transpired the road though the heavily wooded hills past the quaintly named Runnymede (Tassie is just so English!) and the roadside service station at Buckland was the easy bit.
As we began to descend towards the coastal town of Orford through the Ryton Hills, the highway narrowed dramatically, a guard rail appeared on our left hand side (disturbingly unusual in Tasmania!),
the bends became sharper,
and we soon found ourselves squeezed between sheer rocky cliffs and a stone wall which ran along the bank of the Prosser River. Again the photos do not really capture the scene....with 'the brick' trailing behind us, this was tight.
But as we had learnt by now, in this State challenging driving brings scenic rewards and this section of the Tasman Highway was no exception. Liz snapped away as we made our way around the curves in front of us,
and for once I could not crop out the front kayak strap and aerial without denigrating the view. What a beautiful scene this was. It was all I could do to maintain concentration, but along this stretch to fail to do so would be to court disaster. I consoled myself with the thought that we would be back in this area in due course!
The bridge crossing into Orford
gave us yet another upstream view of the Prosser River which, as our island adventures were to later dictate, was to be our last....but all this will become clearer in the fullness of time, as they say!
Although Triabunna is officially recorded as the second largest town on Tasmania's east coast (behind St Helens), I suspect that the figures on which this is based are somewhat dated. But in any event, this claim is relative.....Triabunna is not a metropolis by any means.
Its odd sounding name is the aboriginal word for the Tasmanian native hen, a flightless bird which can be found all over most of the island.
And this is as good a time as any to digress briefly to have a word or two about this ornithological oddity. We had first seen them at Kettering whilst enjoying a fine lunch at the Oyster Inn. From that point they had crossed our paths frequently, and on several occasions even when we've not actually been able to see them, their harsh, screeching calls have made their presence well and truly felt.
These stocky birds which usually reach a mature size of about 45 cms long, have piecing red eyes which can look quite intimidating at times in the right light.
They have an upright streamlined tail and stand and run on powerful legs. Tending to live in small groups, they are very territorial. Scraps between rival groups over space can be ferocious. (thanks to 'wikipedia' for the photos)
And although these quaint looking Tassie natives may not be able to take to the air, they make up for that in spades when it comes to covering the ground. These birds can certainly run. Native hens have been clocked at speeds approaching 50 kph. It is this ability which has spawned a local nickname which sits firmly on my 'I wish I had thought of that' page...'turbo chooks'........how utterly apt!
But let's leave the birds and return to the town. Its only pub, the Spring Bay Hotel, was our destination for today. It was not hard to find.....as I said earlier, there is not much to 'Triabunna central'.
The town marina was right on the doorstep (you may just be able to make out a few masts and hulls at the end of the street in the previous shot).
Although we had arrived before opening hours, we soon found the road behind the hotel which gave us access to the quite large hotel camp ground,
and it did not take long to set ourselves up very nicely on this fine warm day.
As you can see from this shot, the pub was not far from our digs. Visitors are allowed to camp here entirely free of charge, but the hotel management does ask that newcomers register with them. Needless to say I did so when the hotel doors opened.
Now at this point I must confess that, despite the fact we did take the opportunity to wander about the small local CBD, I did not take the camera. As I mentioned before, we had planned to return for a longer visit, but this did not eventuate.
I have therefore had to resort to the Internet to provide some idea of our surrounds. I think it fair to comment that the town marina is its hub. Fishing and tourism are two major drivers of the local economy of this town of less than 1,000 souls. The mussels grown in the local waters are renowned for their quality, and with Maria Island so close, a thriving ferry service operates out of the Triabunna marina.
As this beautiful shot (for which I am indebted to 'think-tasmania') so amply shows, the Spring Bay Hotel was but a stone's throw from the waterfront action.
Here too, along this part of the foreshore, we discovered a very good tourist information centre, excellent public toilets and showers (which were available for us by those of us camping behind the pub) and, almost at the entrance to the pub camp ground,
the widely known Triabunna 'Fish Van', from which fish and chips and other delicacies from the sea were dispensed constantly to the streams of customers lining up for what are reputed to be Tasmania's finest.
Fishing and all things maritime were not the basis for Triabunna's origins. It began life in 1830 as a garrison town, home initially to the British 63rd Regiment and later the 51st. Two of the barracks buildings which these 'red-coats' called home still remain as a reminder of the town's history.
Given my failure with the camera for the reasons I've outlined, I thank 'realestate' for this shot of these 'palatial abodes'.
These troops were required to carry out guard duties on nearby Maria Island which was another of the fledgling colony's penal settlements between 1825 and 1832 and again from 1842-5. Their numbers which included families, provided the impetus for the establishment of many of Triabunna's early services, including, of course, the pub!
Today the Maria Island National Park attracts tourists like bees to a honey pot. A fast ferry service which operates out of the Triabunna marina whisks visitors across the Mercury Passage to what remains of the old convict settlement on the island at Darlington Bay in less than half an hour. During the summer there are five services each way, and from what we saw, these were very well patronised. Many make it a day trip with an island walk or bike ride as the feature, but others take advantage of the limited accommodation on offer or hump camping gear onto the ferry and set up in the island camp ground. The quite reasonable $50 return trip charge includes the National Park entry fee.
Again I've had to rely on a website (this time that of the ferry operators), for this photo of their craft making its way out of Darlington Bay (with a couple of the old convict era buildings shown in the background)
But for us there was to be no Maria Island trip on this occasion (or later!) We were here for an overnight stay only. So, after what turned out to be a very chirpy and utterly unplanned happy hour with four of our camp neighbours, we repaired to the pub as planned for our evening meal,
where we were a little taken aback by this small tepee erected in one of the pub passageways. Different!
The quite empty bar
and sparsely populated adjoining dining room were much more standard in presentation, and, for a pub with such a striking exterior appearance, somewhat disappointingly bland. But with a fine sav blanc in the cooler and two glasses on the table, we settled in for what was an acceptable feed without being one which set the bells ringing.
I chose a local speciality, a whole grilled flounder,
whilst Liz remained her predictable self....with a chicken parmi on her plate.
As I said, the foodie critics at our table rated these offerings as average, but what the heck, eating out always beats banging away in the van galley.
And so it was that we ticked off yet another entry on our 'Tassie pub crawl by caravan' list. The morrow would find us tracking further up the east coast for our second overnight, this time in Bicheno.
Much as I loved NN and its surrounds, I was, by now, keen to return to the sea. The east coast beckoned brightly. We had arranged to stay with friends at Rosevears (just north of Launceston) for a period from mid December, and rather than make another run along the Midland Highway, we decided travel north by way of the east coast.
We had already planned to spend a month or so in this part of the state in March, well after the Xmas school holiday period, when we knew that every caravan park and free camp along this entire coastline would be characterised by crowding and chaos. We had been warned on more than one occasion by all in the know!
But we did need a change of scenery and rather than retrace our way north along the Midland Highway, we decided that an east coast recce could do no harm. That aside, this route included two more of the Tasmanian pubs on our 'pub crawl' list. It all gelled nicely.
The first overnight stay on our list was Triabunna. This fishing town is home to a local trawler fleet and is also popular as the port from which tourists can embark on the ferries which transport them across to the nearby Maria Island.
Today's trip of just less than 100 kms took us initially back along the southern side of the Derwent River, where the high towers of the Bridgewater road bridge could be seen in the distance, together with the most amazing number of black swans.
In all our travels we had never seen so many in one relatively small area (and these photos taken on the run so to speak to not really do these scenes complete justice). This was a 'lamentation' if ever there was one...most with heads down feeding.
It was clear from the number of cygnets clustered in busy little groups around many of the adult birds that this sheltered cove on the river was a breeding ground, and a highly successful one at that.
Bridgewater is the point on the River Derwent where the water 'officially' turns from salt to fresh. It is here that the 'sea estuary' formally becomes 'the river'. To what extent this is actually true I have no idea, nor do I know if this is relevant in relation to the swans' breeding.....all I can say is that there were hundreds and hundreds of them in this area.
We were both still shaking our heads in disbelief as we turned off the A10 and joined the steady line of traffic making its way towards this jaded but interesting old bridge.
Construction of this vertical lift bridge, which is the largest of its kind in Australia and one of only a few remaining in the Southern Hemisphere, began in 1939. WW2 saw an interruption to progress and the bridge ultimately came into service in 1946.
This photo by JJ Harrison, to whom I am indebted, shows the lifting section close to the northern bank of the river, a section reached by a causeway running out from the opposite side. I suspected that it was this barrier which created the ideal conditions upstream for the many swans we had just seen.
The lifting span is now used very infrequently, but this was not always the case. From the time of its construction until 1984, river traffic along this section of the Derwent was heavy. At Boyer, a few kilometres downstream from New Norfolk, the Australian Newsprint Mills, a massive paper mill on the northern bank of the river (now owned and operated by Norske Skog Paper), transported all its product by barge down the Derwent to Hobart.
This barge traffic was so heavy that a full time bridge keeper lived on site to operate the lift section but with the decision to transport this product by other means in 1984 the bridge keeper's role became redundant.
Although the Bridgewater bridge was built to last 100 years, it has not lived up to these engineering expectations. Whilst it is still functional (and just as well....the only other crossing points are either in Hobart of New Norfolk) it is not as structurally well as had been originally hoped, and a new bridge is on the drawing board. As to when the planned replacement actually becomes a reality is in the hands of the newly elected Tasmanian Government. I'll say no more!
Despite its shortcomings, I can happily report that the structure was more than sturdy enough to allow us to cross the river and we subsequently made our way onto the lesser used C325 and C321 which took us out into the rolling hills at the northern end of Hammonds Tier.
The Navigator was a bit busy for a while, but once we reached this junction we knew we were still on track. From here we travelled towards Richmond for about two kilometres before again turning off, this time onto eight kilometres of the C350.
This short hop brought us to the Tasman Highway (the A3), the major road (in name only in places) which runs north out of Hobart right up the east coast to St Helens from where it turns west through the massive mountain ranges of the north-east, though Scottsdale and thence south-west to Launceston.
The immediate task in front of us was the passage across the Prosser Ridge,
where more curves and hills reminded us of which State we were in.
As it transpired the road though the heavily wooded hills past the quaintly named Runnymede (Tassie is just so English!) and the roadside service station at Buckland was the easy bit.
As we began to descend towards the coastal town of Orford through the Ryton Hills, the highway narrowed dramatically, a guard rail appeared on our left hand side (disturbingly unusual in Tasmania!),
the bends became sharper,
and we soon found ourselves squeezed between sheer rocky cliffs and a stone wall which ran along the bank of the Prosser River. Again the photos do not really capture the scene....with 'the brick' trailing behind us, this was tight.
But as we had learnt by now, in this State challenging driving brings scenic rewards and this section of the Tasman Highway was no exception. Liz snapped away as we made our way around the curves in front of us,
and for once I could not crop out the front kayak strap and aerial without denigrating the view. What a beautiful scene this was. It was all I could do to maintain concentration, but along this stretch to fail to do so would be to court disaster. I consoled myself with the thought that we would be back in this area in due course!
The bridge crossing into Orford
gave us yet another upstream view of the Prosser River which, as our island adventures were to later dictate, was to be our last....but all this will become clearer in the fullness of time, as they say!
Although Triabunna is officially recorded as the second largest town on Tasmania's east coast (behind St Helens), I suspect that the figures on which this is based are somewhat dated. But in any event, this claim is relative.....Triabunna is not a metropolis by any means.
Its odd sounding name is the aboriginal word for the Tasmanian native hen, a flightless bird which can be found all over most of the island.
And this is as good a time as any to digress briefly to have a word or two about this ornithological oddity. We had first seen them at Kettering whilst enjoying a fine lunch at the Oyster Inn. From that point they had crossed our paths frequently, and on several occasions even when we've not actually been able to see them, their harsh, screeching calls have made their presence well and truly felt.
These stocky birds which usually reach a mature size of about 45 cms long, have piecing red eyes which can look quite intimidating at times in the right light.
They have an upright streamlined tail and stand and run on powerful legs. Tending to live in small groups, they are very territorial. Scraps between rival groups over space can be ferocious. (thanks to 'wikipedia' for the photos)
And although these quaint looking Tassie natives may not be able to take to the air, they make up for that in spades when it comes to covering the ground. These birds can certainly run. Native hens have been clocked at speeds approaching 50 kph. It is this ability which has spawned a local nickname which sits firmly on my 'I wish I had thought of that' page...'turbo chooks'........how utterly apt!
But let's leave the birds and return to the town. Its only pub, the Spring Bay Hotel, was our destination for today. It was not hard to find.....as I said earlier, there is not much to 'Triabunna central'.
The town marina was right on the doorstep (you may just be able to make out a few masts and hulls at the end of the street in the previous shot).
Although we had arrived before opening hours, we soon found the road behind the hotel which gave us access to the quite large hotel camp ground,
and it did not take long to set ourselves up very nicely on this fine warm day.
As you can see from this shot, the pub was not far from our digs. Visitors are allowed to camp here entirely free of charge, but the hotel management does ask that newcomers register with them. Needless to say I did so when the hotel doors opened.
Now at this point I must confess that, despite the fact we did take the opportunity to wander about the small local CBD, I did not take the camera. As I mentioned before, we had planned to return for a longer visit, but this did not eventuate.
I have therefore had to resort to the Internet to provide some idea of our surrounds. I think it fair to comment that the town marina is its hub. Fishing and tourism are two major drivers of the local economy of this town of less than 1,000 souls. The mussels grown in the local waters are renowned for their quality, and with Maria Island so close, a thriving ferry service operates out of the Triabunna marina.
As this beautiful shot (for which I am indebted to 'think-tasmania') so amply shows, the Spring Bay Hotel was but a stone's throw from the waterfront action.
Here too, along this part of the foreshore, we discovered a very good tourist information centre, excellent public toilets and showers (which were available for us by those of us camping behind the pub) and, almost at the entrance to the pub camp ground,
the widely known Triabunna 'Fish Van', from which fish and chips and other delicacies from the sea were dispensed constantly to the streams of customers lining up for what are reputed to be Tasmania's finest.
Fishing and all things maritime were not the basis for Triabunna's origins. It began life in 1830 as a garrison town, home initially to the British 63rd Regiment and later the 51st. Two of the barracks buildings which these 'red-coats' called home still remain as a reminder of the town's history.
Given my failure with the camera for the reasons I've outlined, I thank 'realestate' for this shot of these 'palatial abodes'.
These troops were required to carry out guard duties on nearby Maria Island which was another of the fledgling colony's penal settlements between 1825 and 1832 and again from 1842-5. Their numbers which included families, provided the impetus for the establishment of many of Triabunna's early services, including, of course, the pub!
Today the Maria Island National Park attracts tourists like bees to a honey pot. A fast ferry service which operates out of the Triabunna marina whisks visitors across the Mercury Passage to what remains of the old convict settlement on the island at Darlington Bay in less than half an hour. During the summer there are five services each way, and from what we saw, these were very well patronised. Many make it a day trip with an island walk or bike ride as the feature, but others take advantage of the limited accommodation on offer or hump camping gear onto the ferry and set up in the island camp ground. The quite reasonable $50 return trip charge includes the National Park entry fee.
Again I've had to rely on a website (this time that of the ferry operators), for this photo of their craft making its way out of Darlington Bay (with a couple of the old convict era buildings shown in the background)
But for us there was to be no Maria Island trip on this occasion (or later!) We were here for an overnight stay only. So, after what turned out to be a very chirpy and utterly unplanned happy hour with four of our camp neighbours, we repaired to the pub as planned for our evening meal,
where we were a little taken aback by this small tepee erected in one of the pub passageways. Different!
The quite empty bar
and sparsely populated adjoining dining room were much more standard in presentation, and, for a pub with such a striking exterior appearance, somewhat disappointingly bland. But with a fine sav blanc in the cooler and two glasses on the table, we settled in for what was an acceptable feed without being one which set the bells ringing.
I chose a local speciality, a whole grilled flounder,
whilst Liz remained her predictable self....with a chicken parmi on her plate.
As I said, the foodie critics at our table rated these offerings as average, but what the heck, eating out always beats banging away in the van galley.
And so it was that we ticked off yet another entry on our 'Tassie pub crawl by caravan' list. The morrow would find us tracking further up the east coast for our second overnight, this time in Bicheno.
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