River of Rocks Reserve . . . . a Beach Covered with Crabs
It was not what I wanted to do – leave. I enjoyed my night on the granite cliffs above Shoal Reef in Bay of Fires. I took a last look at the lichen covered boulders – it was still as bright as last night.
Delaying longer – I climbed the hills of Binalong Bay – took a last look at the bathing beauty greeting most visitors on their arrival and bades the remaining farewell.
Onwards to Humbug Recreation area. I took another walk along the boulder strewn shoreline. Walking between a few dry and rounded rocks I was surprised when directly in front of me a waterfall started gushing – then quit just as quickly as it started. I stopped mid-stride not wanting to get soaked. A narrow groove was incised through the granite. When a wave surged just right it channeled water through a narrow slot into the groove where it poured out as a waterfall.
Still not ready to leave I found a level parking spot, had lunch then enjoyed the view of an hour or more. Time flew – the afternoon left. I had not moved more than 10 kilometres from last nights camp. Debating – should I return? My inclination was to return, but then I thought of my neighbors. They were several hundred metres away butt this morning as I left the two guys were preparing breakfast sporting birthday suits.
Time to move south. The sun was getting low but a little movement is better than none. Fifty kilometres down the road I found Lagoons Beach. It was to be my home for the night. As the sun behind me I walked along the beach fighting the urge to swim. Every time my toes ventured too close to the waves I was quickly reminded of the waters chill. I’m sure the iceburgs are just over the horizon.
Come morning my goal was Freycinet Pennisual and the National Park.
Driving through Bicheno I noticed a small, faded and inconspicuous blue sign – Blowhole. The surf was negligible so I did not expect much. A minute later I was shocked by a tremendous gush of water being thrust up then being caught by the fierce wind and thrown horizontal. Definitely worth the stop. Shortly after I arrived somebody walked out to the shore during a quite period. Small squirts of water were just clearing the rock. He jumped the chasm and walked to where the water squirting up. A couple more squirts then without warning the blowhole burst to life. Frantically he groveled towards the large rock near the blowhole hoping for shelter then quickly retreated to the shore and his car.
I did finally arrive at Freycinet National Park this afternoon. Nothing had prepared me for the sight. Massive pink granite domes grew from the blue ocean horizon.
After checking on camping in the park - $15.00 for a long drop toilet – I made my way to the trailhead for Wineglass Bay. The lookout is a 30 minute climb up about 600 rock stairs. Fifteen minutes later I was at the lookout. The afternoon was still young but the sign had said the loop to Wineglass Bay the over to Promise Bay and back to the car park was five hours. I had tried to get somebody to tell me the actual distance but all they knew was the time. (I’m trying to adjust to this Tasmanian uniqueness. Even highway signs give travel time – not distance). Five hours would put me back at the car well after dark. I decided chance was on my side and started hiking. Cresting the dune at Promise Bay I was delighted to see about 10 dolphins fishing the bay. I perched on the dune watching the performance. Fearing I wouldn’t make it back to the car before dark I only spent 20 minutes watching before feeling I needed to walk again. . . . Two hours 30 minutes later I was back at the car.
I still did not have a camping spot for the night. Driving through the park campgrounds I could do better. I’ve needed to do laundry for a few days so thought I’d stay in the caravan park. I arrived at 6:15 – reception closed at 6:00. The ablution block was key access so I couldn’t stay then pay in the morning. I’d heard there was access to Molting Lagoon, a RAMSAR wetland of significance, just out of Coles Bay.
Talking to myself again, “There must be a viewpoint the birdwatchers use. If there is I’ll spend the night there.”
River and Rocks – that sounds like an interesting road. I decided to check it out. One half kilometre was a free campground. I moved in with the other squatters. The sun was just setting. I walked down to the mud flat to watch. A noise caught my attention. A subtle clicking from near my feet. The mud flat was creeping with many thousands of crabs – none larger then a 20 cent piece. The mud flat was obscured by the crabs. The ground was moving. I have no idea how many crabs there were. . I had not seen this many animals crawling over the ground since conducting Mormon cricket censuses at Dinosaur National Monument 15 years ago where we estimated cricket bands to number near one million– really flightless grasshoppers.
