FROM THE BEACH TO THE MOUNTAINS - SWANSEA - PART 4 (WINE GLASS BAY) (5 MARCH 2018)

According to some of the Tassie tourist hype I read, it is claimed that Wine Glass Bay is the third most beautiful beach in the world. Hmmmmm! Criteria? Judges? Other contenders?  Not a mention. 

Despite my cynicism, I knew from photos presented some years ago on the blog of dear friends of ours who sailed into and moored their yatch in this iconic bay, and later went ashore and scaled the heights above it, (and from other sources) that this is a special spot.

The challenge of the climb remained a concern, but now equipped with a new knee brace and a wholesome dose of determination, I set off with my eager (and much younger) spouse to complete one of the 'essentials' of a trip to Tassie.

I grabbed this basic map from the website of 'Freycinet Air', a local company which offers scenic flights over and around the peninsula and beyond (at quite reasonable rates). As it shows, there is no direct road from Swansea to Coles Bay, the jump off point for the Wine Glass Bay, and the road trip around the expanse of Moulting Lagoon covers a distance of just over 60 kilometres.

I've not bothered with road shots in this missive. We have much more important scenery to look at.

But before we set off on our climb, let me share a bit of general information about the peninsula we were about to attack (or should that be the other way around!).

Given its obviously French name, it probably comes as no surprise to learn that it was Baudin who formally named this remarkable feature of the Tasmanian east coast (after another French explorer of the day.....Louis de Freycinet). Baudin's fingerprints are also to be found on charts of this area....Cape Baudin, Cape Faure, Cape Forestier. All these have survived, but one of his decisions has gone by the wayside. What he named Thourin Bay we now know as Wine Glass Bay. 

Interestingly another mariner, one of a completely different stamp, has been immortalised in this area......and he wasn't British, Dutch or French!

Captain Richard Hazard, an American (of all things) was the skipper of the whaling vessel 'Thalia', which plied its trade in and around Great Oyster Bay in the early 1820's. How his name came to be given to the tumble of huge granite outcrops which form the dramatic peaks and valleys of the range along the peninsula is a little unclear, but his earlier presence in this region lives on in the range known as the (yep, small 't') Hazards.

The mountains of the Freycinet Peninsula are composed of granite in a form known as Orthoclase, a pink feldspar. Just to confuse the issue a little, these mountains come in two sections, the Hazards to the north and the Mount Graham/Mount Freycinet section to the south.


They are divided by a low, sandy, marshy isthmus as is clearly shown here in this photo taken from Mount Amos and brought to us (with my thanks) by 'tastrails'. The famous Wine Glass Bay forms the eastern edge of this low neck of land.

The trail to this iconic landmark lookout runs over the saddle between Mounts Amos and Mayson, and is described in 'Discover Tasmania'  thus:

"The short trek to Wineglass Bay lookout is a bit of a scramble, but it's well worth it for one of Tasmania's most photographed views."

'A bit of a scramble' indeed, as we were about to discover. 

We began our trek at the interestingly designed

and decorated building which houses the local visitor information centre,

and, of course, all the souvenirs one would expect. And as usual, the stock of stubby holders was depleted by one as we left.

A series of large and informative notice boards provided all the relevant information we needed.

although I did have some difficulty reconciling the word 'moderate' with the incline diagram and the warning that this was not for those with health or mobility concerns. The word 'oxymoron' resonated!

This well detailed diagram gave us a very clear picture of where we were about to venture, and of the layout of the peninsula and its main features.

With my right knee well braced, it was time to bite the bullet!

All went swimmingly to begin with. A flat track and hand rails...this was ticket!

And so it went, for the initial stages at least. I began to feel much more confident, and my walking companion was striding out as if there was no tomorrow.

Well, if youngsters like this can make the effort......! I could hardly let a kid show me up.

This initial climb soon brought us wonderful views over Coles Bay,

and then, as if to say "well you've had a taste", now it's time for the hard work, we hit the first flight of steps.

Fortunately the track became a path again, but as we wended our way past the first of the Hazards boulders, you can see from her body angle that Liz was straining against the incline.

By now we were passing some serious rocks, where the typical pinkish colour of the Hazards feldspar was on display,

both beside the trail

and in the mountains above us.

These ancient ranges also provided other splashes of colour, this time in the form of dark grey and white stripes which, from a distance, could almost be mistaken for a waterfall.

Within a few more minutes we had reached this sign. Hang on...what's this....another 20 minutes!

The lookout 

was appropriately named (as would have been expected). The beautiful blue of Coles Bay lay below us,

and from this vantage point we could also clearly see many of the homes of those lucky enough to live in this delightful part of Tassie.

After a short stop to admire the views, we stoutly resisted the temptation presented by this roughly hewn bench, and pressed on.....

.....yep, more steps! It was fascinating to pass fellow tourists coming down from the heights. All has words of encouragement generally along the lines of 'it's really worth the effort'. I was not sure if this was an entirely useful exhortation, particularly when the delivery seemed somewhat smug!

Undaunted to date, we pressed on, past some remarkable rock formations (there's a veiled reference to KI there for those in the know!)

and increasing numbers of fellow travellers,

some of whom were taking a bit of a break as we were confronted with yet more steps.

After plodding on for another ten minutes or so, we came to this oddly shaped trackside bench.

Despite its peculiar shape by now the time had come for a breather. You may notice that by this stage I had availed myself of a stout stick, sourced to Liz's horror from a bush on the side of the trail. I wasn't sure what her problem was (apart from the fact that removal of vegetation is generally verboten in National Parks!)

I took the entirely pragmatic view that there was tonnes of this stuff to be found here, and my need for support was becoming increasingly more urgent. And I have to say, that particularly on the return downhill journey, this proved invaluable. I later stripped if of its rough bark covering to discover that the wood underneath was of a marvellous glowing orange hue and that far from being smooth, much of the length of this hiker's aid almost looked as though it had been plaited. I carry it with me to this day, and have foresworn the scorn with which I used to view those plodding along using hiking poles!

After a short blow we were at it again. The rounded boulders we had passed earlier gave way to much more intimidating looking lumps of grey granite

and those now passing gave us the good news that we were nearly there. Just look at the pink colouring of this rock.

A grated walkway

and a final set of steps 

brought us (finally) to the summit lookout where, strangely enough, we were not alone!

Of course, the burning question remains.....was it worth it? The answer to that lies in the fact that we both hold the view (?) that no matter how many photos of great scenic spots we see, there is absolutely nothing like the real thing. And so it was here overlooking Wine Glass Bay. What an absolutely breathtaking scene this is, far more enchanting than my poor photograph indicates.

From another vantage point we could now clearly see the sandy isthmus between the two groups of Freycinet Peninsula mountains for ourselves.

But what goes up must come down!

The slabs of granite near the lookout were nothing short of spectacular, and we did pause once or twice to marvel at their sheer size and their extraordinarily colour.

About halfway down the descent, the trail came to a junction.

There was no holding the 'young thing' as she stormed off in the lead,

to the point where a decision had to be made.

"No problems, old fella....this way".

"If you don't believe me, read the sign!"

On our ascent we had passed many coming down the trail beyond this junction. They had chosen to return the way they had come, and as we took the other track, I began to see the wisdom of that decision. Things were becoming decidedly more challenging.

We edged our way down over what was now a most uneven track,

past more examples of this beautifully marked granite,

ever downwards.

The steps we came to on this section of the trail were far more benign than many of the others, and by now there was very little conversation between us....Liz was actually keeping count.

Another lookout point provided us with yet more views

over the charming Coles Bay township, this time including a glimpse of the most appealing beach which just adds to the attractiveness of this place.

After a short rest it was more rails,

more spectacular rocks,

and another quick spell on yet another 'interesting' bench.

Then, just before we came to the end of our trail, another track off to our right took those intrepid enough to accept the challenge over Mount Amos. This graphic photo went hand in hand

with this warning sign. Enough said....."not today Lizzie!"

We were almost 'home'.

But wait.....surely not? More steps? Indeed there were and if we wanted to claim lay claim to the Cruiser once again they had to be negotiated.

What a wonderful adventure this had been. My fears of knee driven failure had proved to be groundless (with help from the brace and my newly acquired hiking pole), we had enjoyed a marvellous three hours of good exercise, and views that really did live up the hype.

Oh, remember Liz was counting the downhill steps.........including the last leg to the car park......five hundred and fifteen! 

But if you are ever in Tasmania, make sure you do the Wine Glass Bay trail. It is a treat. We were just sorry that the track beyond the lookout down to the beach itself was, as they say, a bridge too far!

Before making our way back to Swansea we had yet another bay to check out (we had all sorts of recommendations about this) and a lighthouse to visit. This was to be a long day.