During our two nights here in Dunalley we wandered to and fro at different times. The first day was bright and sunny, the second, well, this was Tassie after all.....overcast and a little gloomy. I've pulled together town shots from both days for this offering, something which I am sure will be obvious (but deserved an explanation).
Dunalley should be renamed.
'Phoenix-town' would be appropriate. Let me explain why, and to do so I must take you back five years.
'Phoenix-town' would be appropriate. Let me explain why, and to do so I must take you back five years.
As the summer of 2012-13 approached, conditions throughout Tasmania were dire. High fuel loads coupled with unusually dry, warm and windy weather presented a perfectly predictable recipe for rural disaster. The Island's Fire Authorities implemented a media campaign to warn of the danger and encourage preparedness, but nobody could have accurately foreseen what was to come.
The fires began in November 2012. From then until late April 2013 the bush was ablaze somewhere in Tasmania, a fire season unprecedented in the Island's history.
In January 2013, 'The Angry Summer' heatwave struck most of southern and eastern Australia. Bushfires broke out everywhere, but with no more devastating effect than in Tasmania. On 4 January 2013, the temperature in Hobart soared to 41.8 degrees, the highest ever recorded since the inception of these records in 1882. But it was even hotter in Dunalley.
Beginning on 3 January, fires raged out of control across many areas of Tasmania. By the fifth day of that month there were 40 of them burning right across the Island. One of these, as seen here on the 'abcnews', swept south down the Forestier Peninsula, cutting off the very road along which we had travelled to reach Dunalley...the one and only road out of the place.
Courtesy of 'nationalturk" some idea of the scale of these fires can be gauged..... this is what could be seen at one stage from Hobart.
The firestorm as it had now become, roared down on Dunalley and surrounding communities on the afternoon of 3 January. The resulting roll call of devastation included Dunalley, Copping, Boomer Bay, Connelly's Marsh, Primrose Sands, Forcett, Murdunna, Sommers Bay, and Susans Bay on the Forestier Peninsula and further south, on the Tasman Peninsula, Eaglehawk Neck, Taranna and Nubeena were under severe threat.
And with the only road into and out of the area cut by the flames thousands were trapped.
A huge seaborne rescue operation was launched to reach the throngs of people sheltering on beaches, in boats and at the Port Arthur historic site. More than two thousand people were ferried to safety by police, commercial vessel operators and private volunteers, and another two thousand people took refuge at a community centre at Nubeena.
Who could forget this photo of a family huddled together for safety in the water by this small pier in Dunalley as all around them was flame and smoke, a photo
which was flashed right around the world and which became the living symbol of the raw fear and uncertainty brought on by the fires. Amazingly no-one died, but the devastation was enormous. By the time the smoke had cleared over 20,000 hectares of bushland had been burnt out and 193 dwellings and 186 other buildings destroyed, many of them in Dunalley including the school, the Police Station and the Community Hall.
As captured by 'TheAustralian' whole blocks in this sleepy fishing town were razed,
and yet, as is so often the case with these fires, fate was fickle....some buildings escaped the flames (thanks to 'nationalgeographic' for this shot) whilst all around them was reduced to ashes.
Support for those affected poured in from all across Australia. Funds accumulated by the Australian Red Cross Tasmanian Bushfire Appeal were put to very good use. In Dunalley the community recovery projects included the redevelopment of the Imlay Street Park, the construction of the canal walkway, new BBQ, picnic and seating areas and the rebuilding of the Dunalley Community Hall.
Whilst some left the district, most stayed on. Private homes were rebuilt, the Police Station, school and other public buildings were replaced, and, like the mythical Phoenix, Dunalley 'rose from the ashes'.
Five years later, almost to the day, we were touring a new town. We began at the swing bridge just below the pub and our campsite.
Once across the canal we chose to turn left and a short stroll brought us to the Dunalley Fish Market
which was perched right on the Norfolk Bay (sometimes also known as Dunalley Bay) entrance to the canal where this small basin and wharf provided easy water access.
This market has a reputation for stocking only freshly caught fish and these may well change from day to day. Today the chalk board amid all the jumble of 'stuff' at the entrance told us that any seeking fresh albacore (tuna) were out of luck and that today's fresh fillets were of trevally and perch.
The fridge at the counter looked depressingly bare, but the nearby freezer was well stocked. Despite this 'Mother Hubbard look there was no need to despair. Purchases of the day emerged from a back processing room. And as one would expect, the reputation of the freshly fried fish and chips on sale here is one to challenge the Triabunna Fish caravan..
Quite a number of the day trippers and holiday makers were taking full advantage of the outdoor tables as they shared the contents of their tasty hot packages with the local gulls.
We had no immediate need for the produce on offer here and wandered off back towards the main part of town, but not before I had tarried to snap this nearby home, where the occupants obviously had too much time on their hands at some point. Although difficult to read in this photo, the caption painted on the side of the dinghy high and dry in the treetop reads 'High Tide'.....as I said, too much time with too little to do!
I also paused briefly to take this shot of the canal entrance past the jetty on the approach to the bridge,
and before we toddle off down the Arthur Highway (the main street of the town) this is as good a time as any to detour for a good look at this extraordinary canal.
Before doing so, however, let me again resort to Google Earth for some perspective. If you look at the bottom of this view, you will see 'Fulham Road'. The roof of the Fish Market we had just visited is the silver blob just below the 'Rd'. The canal and bridge I hope are self-evident.
The pub and the campsite at the bottom of the shot are equally apparent (I trust). The main drag, the A9, is shown in yellow, whilst the fishing boat harbour and working jetty, the large waterfront cafe and the Tasman Monument we were to shortly visit can be seen on the point immediately above the canal at the right of the shot.
And before we leave this overview, I would draw your attention to the light coloured strips either side of the dark water of the canal at both ends. This is sand scoured out of the main body of this waterway by the force of the tides which hoot through here from one bay to the other. Since it was dug, there has been no need to dredge this canal.....it is literally self-cleaning.
So what on earth possessed the good folk of old to set to and build their mini-Suez? In a word convenience.
As I have done once before, I've managed to utilise the new tricks contained in our updated programme to draw in the route from the Tasman Sea to Hobart (and vice versa) which this canal facilitates. This waterway has removed the need to sail or steam all the way south around the tip of the Tasman Peninsula before making way north up through Storm Bay. Apart from the reduced distance, Storm Bay is well named and any reduction in passage through these waters is a boon for more reasons that one.
As with so many good schemes, this one took some time to progress from an idea to reality, as the text on a plaque I found at the Visitor Information Bay told.
So, once the tender had been let, work began......by hand!
Over the next three and a half years strong men swarmed over the site, shovels at the ready.
At least some of the really hard work was done for them, but it must have been back breaking labour for all that.
Finally, on 13 October 1905, the SS Dover, her decks crammed with a plethora of poohbahs and potentates, steamed majestically down the canal.
The Governor of the day duly performed the opening ceremony, naming this incredible waterway The Denison Canal (after his predecessor who had championed the idea prior to moving back to NSW) before all the official guests trooped off to the nearby Dunalley Hotel for a rather special lunch.
For the statistically minded, all this hard work produced a main channel 895 metres long, or, if the dredged approaches at either end are included, a waterway which extends over 2.42 kilometres. The wedge shaped cut is 34 metres wide at ground level dropping to 7 metres at the bottom on a low tide. The water depth various from just under 4 metres at high tide to 2.5 metres at the bottom of the low.
As I mentioned previously, the tidal differences between Blackman Bay to the east and Norfolk Bay at the other end of the canal means that the rush of water through the cut precludes any need for dredging but there is a snag in Blackman Bay, literally.
Here the shifting sand bars have meant that although the canal was initially used extensively by small trading vessels, today safe passage is restricted to much smaller fishing and recreational vessels. Many of those competing in the Sydney - Hobart yacht race use it as a short cut home and for the local fishing fleet it provides easy access to grounds on both sides of the peninsulas.
Here the shifting sand bars have meant that although the canal was initially used extensively by small trading vessels, today safe passage is restricted to much smaller fishing and recreational vessels. Many of those competing in the Sydney - Hobart yacht race use it as a short cut home and for the local fishing fleet it provides easy access to grounds on both sides of the peninsulas.
Thanks to the community restoration funding provided after the 2013 fires, we were able to wander the length of the canal along a well made and well signed footpath,
beginning at the eastern end
where the increasing tidal flow was already creating standing waves between the channel lateral markers.
A short step into our stroll took us past what we were to see throughout the town......brand new homes, constant reminders of 2013.
After a quick detour through a swampy patch
the path brought us back to the edge of the canal
where this old hand signal post stood as a reminder of days past and a busy waterway.
At several spots we were again reminded of the way in which the tide hoots through this restricted passage between the large bodies of water at either end.
This chart I found posted near the end of the canal made clear reference to the tidal flow and the need for all who were planning a through passage to be well informed as to times, depths and flows.
In no time at all we could see the swing bridge in the distance
and we soon found ourselves back on the main street where we were greeted by a much more modern canal signal light.
From this point we could see across the water and beyond the bridge to the clearly visable 'Pub on the Hill' under the sadly gloomy skies of this particular morning.
Let me conclude our canal ramble with two final shots, this looking north-east from the bridge where the continuing swirl of the tide was creating eddies and foam in the water,
and this one, taken the previous day when the bright sunlight painted a much more attrractive picture of the water.
In my next and final missive from Dunalley we shall walk the highway through the town and visit the 'business end', the fishing boat harbour and its surrounds.
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