"Don't miss Sleepy Bay and the view from the walk to the Tourville lighthouse". So spoke our Tassie friends in the Swansea Caravan park. They went on to explain that the Wine Glass Bay trek is so heavily promoted that many folk visiting the Freycinet ignore these other walks, both of which are not far from Coles Bay.
Making a real day of it, we heeded this advice and made our way north from the car park at the bottom on the Wine Glass Bay trail off towards Sleepy Bay.
To make some sense of this, I've fiddled with another Google Earth shot. Here the yellow arrow points to the unmistakable curve of Wine Glass Bay whilst the red dart shows the location of our next destination. From there it would be further north on the peninsula to Cape Tourville.
The roads to these less popular spots were much narrower than the main thoroughfare into Coles Bay and Wine Glass Bay,
but they were perfectly manageable and continued to provide great views of the rugged peaks of the Hazards.
So much for less popular......we arrived at the Sleepy Bay track car park just in time to grab the very last parking spot,
before heading off on what was, initially, a quite benign path. I was a very happy camper. This was a vast improvement on the trail we had just completed. Fool!
In no time we were presented with some marvellous views of this rugged coastline,
including a number of waterline rocks splashed with the orange stain left by the local lichen.
As I noted a couple of photos ago, I should have known that the flat, even path on which we set out would not last. We had walked for no more than two or three minutes when I was again very glad of my knee brace and my newly acquired stout stick.
We took a short stop at a lookout point at the bottom of the first rocky section of the path
where more wonderful coastal scenes were laid out before us.
And, as so often happens, challenges bring all kinds of rewards, and we soon received one of a most unexpected kind in the form of another splash of orange, this time on the breast of a local Flame Robin which perched most obligingly whilst I held my breath and fiddled frantically with the focus.
For quite some time any hopes I had entertained that our way down the hill to the shore may have become less demanding were nothing short of fanciful,
but as we neared the end of the track we were again treated to a flat pathway through quite unexpected bracken groves
which took us the down the last leg to the shore.
Here we were greeted with a beach scene which could not have been more different to that we had previously been admiring.
At Sleepy Bay the open, gleaming white sands of Wine Glass Bay were replaced by course granite grains spread between a jumble of rocks,
of varying sizes and shapes.
One in particular had been eroded in a striking manner, and as you can see from looking at the chap sitting below them, these were not small boulders.
The shore was littered with masses of washed up kelp
and, in places, piled with driftwood which bore testament to much wilder seas than those lapping against the rocks today.
I was amazed to see a tinnie perched upside down on the rock face at the far side of this small cove. What a number of questions this raised. The seagull in the foreground looked right at home, but a small boat here????
With a last look, at the small soak behind the beach,
it was time to yet again gird our trekking loins and mount an assault on the steps for the return tramp.
And then Sleepy Bay threw up another surprise. As I halted briefly for yet one more shot of the coast below,
I thought I spied movement on the rocks.
Indeed I had.....two intrepid kayakers hauling their craft out out the water (the bloke from the yellow boat was, as I watched, clambering up the rocks to the track we were standing on). I am kicking myself a little that I didn't wait to have a yarn, but we were becoming somewhat pressed for time. I had read that folk paddle around these waters, and had now seen this to be true.
One last stop to go in this rather hectic and highly physical day. This narrow bit of black top brought us into the Cape Tourville car park,
and here we had an another encounter with nature we certainly had not scripted into our day. This little fellow was crouched in the shade of a nearby van, almost motionless. Our first reaction was that it must have been injured, then another penny dropped. Thirsty perhaps?
My brand new bush hat proved to be an ideal water bowl (if somewhat leaky) and I was more than happy to share a water bottle with this small marsupial (Liz's of course....pink for girls!). We were right....slurp, slurp slurp.
"Thanks, Uncle Pete. I feel much better now."
So it was with a feeling of smug self-righteousness that we left the car park to tour Tourville. And there were those magic words......'This very easy walk......' Ah, but were the authorities responsible for this sign to be trusted?
They were. This flat, firm, level track
led us to an elevated walkway which was to take us to the lighthouse.
This was serious bit of engineering, dotted with information boards explaining some of what we were seeing (and there was our objective in the distance),
which curved its way around the headland,
high above the water below us.........far below us!
As I have oft said, with height come views, and this, looking across past Wine Glass Bay (the white strip at the end of the second headland nearest us) to Cape Forestier over this azure expanse
was breathtaking. Needless to say the cape was named by Baudin (after one of Bonaparte's generals who helped organize Baudin's voyage). At the tip of the cape, Lemon Rock obviously avoided recognition by the Frenchman's cartographer, as did the second to last peak looking to the right along the ridge. Mount Graham bears the name of that early Swansea stalwart who built and later sold the Morris Store. The end peak, however, remains a reminder of Baudin's trip. Mount Freycinet was named after Louis de Freycinet, a sub-lieutenant on 'Le Geographe', one of the vessels in Baudin's little fleet.
Given that the entire peninsula also bears his name (as do other geographical odds and sods nearby) one can only speculate as to what influence this rather lowly ranking officer on another ship must have had with his boss!
If you peer hard enough at the sands of Wine Glass Bay you might just detect what looks from here like a white dot in the bay.
White it was, and with my poor little camera lens straining at full close up, I managed a rather blurred but discernable shot of a lucky lot enjoying the calm waters of the bay on Schouten Passage ll, a vessel which plies its tourist trade out of Coles Bay. I could only hope the Savingnon Blanc was properly chilled!
In the general scheme of things the Cape Tourville lighthouse is far from a standout, and, as we were about to read, has little to offer by way of history or tales of derring-do.
And as lighthouses around Tasmania go, this is a real 'Johnny-come-lately'. But for whatever it lacks in architecture, size, and history, it does the job for which it was built which is all that can be asked. As you can read, with this cape, Baudin was at it again.
Thank goodness he did not annotate his charts with this admirable (yep, irresitible!) fellow's full name! Could this chap be the French version of 'A Boy Named Sue'?
We were about to repair back to the Cruiser when an off-shoot path beckoned us to another lookout point on the cliff tops near the lighthouse.
From here these two very distictive rocks could be seen jutting out of the water.
It was not until we took the time to read the information board nearby that the full importance of 'The Nuggets' sank in.
And as lighthouses around Tasmania go, this is a real 'Johnny-come-lately'. But for whatever it lacks in architecture, size, and history, it does the job for which it was built which is all that can be asked. As you can read, with this cape, Baudin was at it again.
Thank goodness he did not annotate his charts with this admirable (yep, irresitible!) fellow's full name! Could this chap be the French version of 'A Boy Named Sue'?
We were about to repair back to the Cruiser when an off-shoot path beckoned us to another lookout point on the cliff tops near the lighthouse.
From here these two very distictive rocks could be seen jutting out of the water.
It was not until we took the time to read the information board nearby that the full importance of 'The Nuggets' sank in.
Who would have thought at first glance that these two innocuous looking lumps were in fact the site of an avian United Nations!
Our day was almost done. By now, so was your scribe. 'Buggered' I think does it nicely. We did take a quick driving tour around Coles Bay on the way back to Swansea and could not resist the temptation to detour briefly to discover just what we would find at Friendly Beaches, a spot on the map which always featured in the nightly weather reports.
But I'll bring this to you in another missive.
