It's been four months now since
we arrived in Tasmania, and I must say that we've really enjoyed
our stay so far. The weather does get on our nerves at times
though, particularly the wind, "Very unseasonal"
the locals keep saying.
It's also very hilly, even though
we're driving far fewer miles than we do on the mainland,
we seem to be spending about the same on fuel.
There's plenty of free camping
and the people are helpful and friendly. You could do a lot
worse than spend some time on the Apple Isle.
Till next time then, and remember,
Don't Dream it, Be it!
Sat 3 Jan 2004
The chairlift with Mt Wellington in the background
We leave the show grounds and drive back out to
a spot we know near the airport.
Sun 4 Jan
Leaving our airport camp we move over to the domain. I originally
planned to camp on the grass near the Cenotaph, and know that many
people do so without hassle from the authorities.
When we arrive however it seems that there's a
better spot just below, on the water's edge.
It does require crossing the railway line though,
and the corner is very tight, so we have to perform a three-point
turn on the tracks. Luckily no trains turn up.
The railway crossing, note Wothahellizat parked down near the water
The circus is in town and has set up on the grassy
area just above us. I know the manager (we were camped together
at the show grounds a week or so back) so I walk up for a chat.
He shows me around, it's fascinating to see how
they live and work, and to have a close look at the equipment.
This is the "Circus Joseph Ashton",
an offshoot from the famous Ashton Circus, it was started by a fellow
named Joseph Ashton. I didn't actually ask, but unless that's the
most amazing coincidence with the surname, I assume Joseph is from
the original Ashton family.
I meet Joseph and several of the other members
of the show. And speaking of families, just about everyone is related,
there's only one performer who isn't in the family, so I guess there's
no point me applying for a job.
The idea does appeal to me in a small way, but
I couldn't face continually erecting and dismantling all the equipment,
and that huge quarter-million-dollar tent must be a nightmare to
Obviously circus life is very nomadic, but many
of these people have never lived in a house.
Mon 5 Jan
Today we are supposed to leave, but by the time we get up and I
check out some things in town, it's late morning and we couldn't
be bothered moving.
I spend half the day just wandering around with
A small jetty near the truck, with the Tasman Bridge crossing
the Derwent River.
A conifer near the Cenotaph. Mt Wellington in the background.
Seagulls arguing about something
Tue 6 Jan
We really wanted to leave early this morning to avoid the trains
and the traffic entering the cramped park-and-ride area.
Unfortunately we sleep in, and by the time we
are up and about the cars are arriving. No matter, we'll have a
leisurely breakfast instead.
At ten to nine we feel it will be safe to exit
the area. It's a steep and narrow road, and we don't want to meet
any traffic on the way out, and so far there's been no trains.
However, at about the halfway point, we see a
stream of cars entering the road above us, just our luck to have
a stack of people late for work.
Then a train comes around the corner.
We all wait for the train, then I pull over as
far as possible to let the cars cross the line and squeeze past
Now it's our turn. A railway man has jumped from
the train and is manning a set of points. It's obvious that he's
going to throw the points so the train can reverse onto a different
line. He waves us through, but doesn't appreciate that I won't get
around the corner in one go, I'll have to back up across the line.
As we reverse so does the train, adding some incentive
for me to get it right first time.
After a long drive through the Huon Valley we
arrive at Cockle Creek, or at least as near as we can get. There's
a 5-tonne limit on the bridge at Catermaran, so we pull into a campground
nearby at Finns Beach.
There's several camping areas strung out along
the beach and, making a judgement based on the style and disarray
of the camps therein, they all appear to be occupied by people of
a more feral persuasion than ourselves.
As we pull in we're watched by a very overweight
and unkempt female. Once parked I try to strike up a conversation,
but am rewarded with a few one-syllable responses, so I give up.
I think we'll be moving on tomorrow.
Wed 7 Jan
It's raining so we sit put. The kids seem to like playing around
the truck. We're very nervous around children, you just never know
what they'll do next
At one point three of them are congregated around
the rear of the truck, near the winch wire that emerges from the
body to lift the steps.
I can hear them discussing the wire, and wondering
if it was "electric". I can also see them with our security
cameras, so, when one of the boys plucks up the courage to touch
the wire, I press the button that raises the steps.
While not much obvious happens to the wire, the
winch makes a hell of a racket.
The lads bolted as fast as they could run, and
we didn't see them again for a good hour.
Thu 8 Jan
Raining again. We listen to the forecast on the radio and it goes
something like this.
Gale warning for the North, West and South coasts.
High wind warning for the East coast. Bushwalkers weather alert.
Rain and hail in the south. Possible snow on Hobart.
Welcome to sunny Tasmania. We're in the south
and, as per the forecast, it is windy and raining, but at least
it's not hailing.
Hang on, what's that rat-a-tat-tat on the roof?
Sat 10 Jan
We're still at Finns Beach. It's been raining for days so we've
just been hibernating in the truck.
I have ventured out on occasion though, to chat
with the neighbours and their kids.
Young Mark turns eight today (or maybe tomorrow,
there seems to be some disagreement about the actual day). He's
a bright young fellow, but one wonders what will become of him,
living in the environment he does, with no obvious stimulus for
His mother is the woman I had a mono-syllablic
conversation with the other day, not much help there. His dad is
cheerful and a likeable bloke, if you can get past the drooling,
but not overly bright either.
They live in a one-bedroom council apartment,
and occasionally make money by picking fruit or salvaging the lead
from old batteries.
Still, they seem happy, more than can be said
for some people with both money and brains.
Mon 12 Jan
We move out and drive northward passing through the locality of
Moss Vale. Although not even marked on the map, Moss Vale consists
of a dozen or so houses spread over as many hectares.
The strange thing about the settlement though
is the fact that the entire area is neatly mown. Acres and acres
of manicured grass indicates that someone around here has too much
time on their hands.
At Lune River we decide it's breakfast time and
pull into a hard stand area beside a house. After placating the
house's resident dog, we chat with its owner.
Peter has lived here for 37 years, originally
working in the quarry "Until it was closed by the greenies",
and now boning fish in a factory.
Those thoughtful forestry people, just for a moment there I
thought this was an armadillo, but the "GATE" sign
soon put me right
We continue and eventually make camp at Port Huon,
just north of Geeveston.
By the looks of this shed, and what's inside, I suspect the
Geeveston Rowing club hasn't put oar to water for some years.
A somewhat abstract photo of a buoy in the Huon River.
Evening light on the jetty in front of the sailing club
Tue 13 Jan
Adrian and Carrol are driving past and see us camped. They drop
in for a cuppa, but can't stay as they're travelling with their
daughter and son-in-law.
Adrian & Carrol drop in for a cuppa.
A feather floating on the Huon River.
Amazing cloud formations come through with a cold front.
Wed 14 Jan
We drive back through Huonville, but rather than return to Hobart
on the hilly route we came down on, we turn right and make our way
along the coast.
After a while we pull into a rest area at Gordon.
Luckily I noticed that this motorhomer had his trailer on
the wrong end of his vehicle. He could have had a nasty accident.
A great sunset at Gordon
Sat 17 Jan
We drive back to Hobart, parking in our spot near the airport.
Sun 18 Jan
I'm borrowing a phone line at Glen & Annette's today to upload
the web site changes.
I tell Annette that it should take a couple of
hours, but I have a lot of trouble with my FTP program. Six hours
later I finally finish.
We want to get out of town so drive up the Midlands
Hwy to the tiny town of Kempton.
There's a free camping area set up by the council,
right in the middle of town. With electric BBQs, a shelter, and
power available, someone has spent some money to attract travellers.
But I can't really see why, normally a town will
do this in the hope that the people staying will spend some money,
but there is nowhere to spend money in Kempton.
Mon 19 Jan
Another slack attack, we stay at Kempton.
Tue 20 Jan
Today we intend driving to outskirts of Launceston, but get
lazy and turn off into Oatlands, just 39k up the road.
Oatlands is motorhome friendly, and has set aside
a lovely camping area for travellers. It's right on the banks of
the Dulverton Wildlife refuge, and just a few minutes walk from
the main street.
There's good trout fishing in the dam, and plenty
of birdlife to observe.
We set the truck up in a prime waterfront location,
and settle back for a lazy day watching the birds.
Before long however I get the urge to be a little
more proactive. I grab a camera and make my way out onto the mud
At first I watch the ducks.
A pacific black duck, swimming, standing, and having a go at
Lapwings fly away at first but gradually get used
to me as I lie in the mud.
A masked lapwing on the mud flats.
Mommy black duck being mimicked by one of its ducklings.
Peaceful scene on the lake
Wed 21 Jan
First thing this morning I wander down to the dam.
Reeds reflected in the channel.
The ducklings cruise in the channel.
A dragonfly rests on a bent reed.
I spot a swan sleeping on the bank and drop down
into the long grass to stalk it and get closer (nearly standing
on a large tiger snake in the process).
The swan seen through the long grass. He's spotted me by now
and is getting nervous
I get pretty close then stand up and grab a couple
of photos before he waddles off onto the lake.
The swan swims off into the safety of the dam centre
I've always liked swans, such graceful and peaceful
animals, or at least that's what I've always thought. I am to be
proven wrong later in the day.
After breakfast we walk into town, a short and
pleasant jaunt through the grounds of the old windmill.
I buy a magazine at the general store. We almost
never buy magazines these days, but I've just had one of my Tarkine
photos publish in "Outdoor", so I buy a copy.
On our return I wander down to the creek to photograph
the ducks again.
When I get there however I hear a commotion in
the nearby dam and go to investigate.
It seems that two or three swans are fighting,
or at least one is, and the others are just trying to stay out of
One swan attacking another
I get some photos but the action is over pretty
quick. Then I return to a more sedate subject, wildflowers.
The bank of the lake is covered in flowers.
Wildflowers near the truck.
A mouse's-eye view of a flower. The "tree" in the
background is another flower, only about 10" high.
Lady bird and bumble bee on flowers.
At some point I hear a commotion in the dam again.
I rush up but just find two of the birds swanning (sorry) around.
Still they're nice to watch so I get comfortable
on the water's edge.
Before long though I spot a swan approaching the
two I've been watching. Even from across the other side of the dam
the newcomer is obviously on a mission.
Things could get interesting.
Swan B (Bilbo) in the foreground, swan A (Agro) approaching in the rear.
Bilbo tries to escape from Agro.
Agro launches his attach.
Agro chases poor Bilbo across the dam wall.
Then returns with feathers in his beak.
Bilbo wonders what the hell is going on.
Agro launches a new attack.
Bilbo hits the water on the run.
The chase continues
Click here for a more
complete description of this encounter.
Well that was exiting.
And now for something completely different, a spot of fly
Evening light on the lake shore
Thu 22 Jan
We find a nice spot near a creek on the outskirts of Launceston.
After parking we ride into town to get our mail, but find that it
hasn't arrived yet.
We figure that the mail may arrive tomorrow, but
if not, nothing will happen until Tuesday as Monday is a public
holiday. On our return to the truck we study the maps and decide
to spend a few days in one of the national parks to the north of
Fri 23 Jan
We leave Launceston at around 9 and drive up the East Tamar Highway,
crossing over the river at the Batman Bridge, and continue to Greens
Beach for lunch.
Our information indicates that the nearby Paper
Beach is a good campsite so we drive there, only to find a very
We retrace our steps up the highway, then turn
off onto a dirt road and cross the Asbestos Range, arriving at Narawntapu
(Asbestos Range) National Park, just in time for a well earned beer.
Sat 24 Jan
We meet a couple who are into prospecting today. They've found 460oz
of gold in 7 years, on one day they found 150 ounces. That's not
bad going, but you do have to buy a good detector and, at around
$5000, that's a lot to outlay with no guarantee of a return.
Still, like most hobbies, you can't really justify
the expense financially, but if you get hours, days, or even years
of enjoyment what does it matter?
As they say, you have to enjoy doing it anyway,
if you find something that's a bonus. They also have a Port-a-boat
which we inspect because we've been talking about buying one.
A "Port-a-boat", they're very popular with motorhomers
because they are easily stored, and light enough to carry
to the water.
It's quite dusty in the campground
We also meet Siegfried and Sylvia today, a nice
German couple camping on the other side of the campground. Siegfried
has an interest in photography but is not sure about the quality
of digital prints. I invite them over to have a look at some examples
of prints made from scans off negatives.
When they arrive we show them through the truck
and Siegfried asks how old I am. I reply that I'm 49. There's a
stunned silence for a second as the two Germans look at each other.
"We thought you were about 35" he says.
Bless their cotton socks, what nice people.
Just before sunset I go down to the beach to photograph
the shells and jellyfish.
Kids swimming and a yacht moored in the river.
Obviously the shells are on the ground, which
causes me to take a head down, bum up posture, much to the amusement
of some children swimming nearby.
"What's that man doing with his bum up in
the air?" I hear one of them ask. I feel like explaining that
the best way to get anywhere in life is to work hard, with head
down and bum up, but why bother, that's their parents job.
Shells and interesting affects of light shining through a jellyfish
Tue 27 Jan
After a few lazy days at campground #3 on the water, we move over
to campground #1, near the information centre.
Campground #1 is also situated near a large lagoon,
there's a hide to watch the many birds, but you don't need one to
watch the other wildlife, such as Tasmanian native hens, and pademelons.
These small kangaroo-like animals are everywhere,
and they aren't too worried about people. You won't get to pat them,
but with a little patience, you can approach to within a couple
of metres of these adorable little marsupials.
Pademelons, cute little members of the marsupial family.
A pademelon finds its food under our truck.
At dusk the pademelons emerge from the bush and move out onto
There's wombats here too, just wandering over
the plains in broad daylight. Something I've never seen before.
I spend the afternoon photographing the animals.
At one point I'm chatting to another visitor and I comment that
there may be some rain on the way.
"It often misses here" he says, "just
rains on the hills". I'm not convinced and start to walk back
to the truck, arriving at the same time as the first drops.
It's beer o'clock anyway so we sit in the truck
listening to the patter of rain on the roof. There's thunder in
the distance, but here things are nice and peaceful.
The rain gets heavier though, and the thunder
gets nearer. Before long we're in the middle of a full blown storm.
We spend the night with the truck being rocked
by the gale, listening to the hammering of rain on the roof, and
the crack of nearby lightning strikes.
Wed 28 Jan
We lost at least one group of campers last night. The packed up
in the middle of the night, and looking at their campsite this morning
I'm not surprised, it's now a small lake.
We leave the park, cross the flooded creek, and
head towards Launceston.
I've organised to park outside Alan Moyle's, Alan
is a photographer I met recently and he has kindly offered the use
of his parent's front yard as a campsite.
We pull into Alan's but there's nobody home so,
after being half licked to death by the family's cocker spaniel,
I level the truck and we settle in.
The area is semi-rural with most houses out of
sight of their neighbours. Most but not all. I learn later that
Alan's Mum received a phone call at work, one of the neighbours
had seen a weird truck parked outside her house and thought someone
may be stealing all the furniture.
Thu 29 Jan
I have some photos to mail off and it's pouring rain. Just as
we're discussing how to deal with this situation Alan knocks on
the door. He's going into town, would I like a lift?
After taking care of business we browse through
some books we can't afford, then talk about photography over a cappuccino.
Alan has a job on this afternoon so Chris and
I just hide from the rain for the rest of the day.
Fri 30 Jan
We take our leave of Alan and drive into town to do the rounds
of the op-shops. Chris is getting low on books, and we find that
these shops are usually a good source of cheap reading material.
TIP: Book exchanges are usually way too expensive.
Op-shops run by the Salvos, Lifeline et al are far better value.
We seldom pay more than 50c for a book, 20c is common.
After several hours we've restocked the library
and make our way over to the nice park we camped in a week ago.
Last week the park had a quiet creek which trickled
over a stone weir. However, after all the recent rain, the creek
is now a raging torrent and the weir is nowhere to be seen, submerged
under several feet of water.
I'm keen to see the latest Lord of the Rings movie,
and there's a showing at 5:15, so I get a motorbike out. Just before
leaving I mark the water level with a stick.
On my return the level has dropped, so I'm happy
to stay the night.
Sat 31 Jan
It's time to head west. After another late start we drive to Devonport
and find a nice spot to camp on the side of the Mersey River.
Our campsite on the banks of the Mersey River at Devonport
We explore the town by motorbike, the shopping
centre we visit is quite run down, but the town's foreshore is very
In the evening we watch the water birds on the
river and the gathering storm clouds.
Huge cumulonimbus clouds are illuminated by the sunset then
reflected in the river
Sun 1 Feb
Up at the crack of 10 this morning, then on the road after a quick
We drive along the coast, passing through the
town of Burnie, then turning off into Tangdimmaa (Rocky Cape) National
Park, it sounds like a nice place, even though there's no camping
After a couple of kilometres the road turns into
a single-lane dirt track, which makes it difficult when we encounter
The driver of one such vehicle looks familiar,
then I remember that Craig, our boatman from the Tarkine photo expedition,
lives out this way. In fact, now that I think about it, he lives
right here at Rocky Cape.
We continue and find that there's a shack community
inside the national park. I ask a local if "Garbo" (aka
Craig) lives here, he does and I'm given directions to his shack.
In order to turn around I have to reverse into
the front yard of an unoccupied shack. Once I've backed in however
I figure that it's as good a place as any to camp. I switch off
the motor and extract a motor bike.
After a short ride around the area to check out
the sights we drop into Craig's shack to say g'day.
The shack itself leaves something to be desired,
but you can't fault the location. It's right on the beach with views
over the bay and, apparently, this side of the park is protected
from the majority of the winds.
Craig's shack (upper left in the right photo) and one of his
dinghies at Rocky Cape.
The shack is up for sale, for $250,000 it's yours.
Add another $40-60,000 to buy the strata title when it becomes available
soon, and you'll have a slice of paradise.
It's amazing what these run down places are fetching
these days, but absolute beach frontage land is rare and getting
rarer. As someone famous once said, "They ain't making any
more of it".
I tell Craig where we've parked, "You'll
be right" he says, "That's Anthony's place, he only comes
down every few months and wouldn't mind anyway".
Mountain backdrop to the shack community
Mon 2 Feb
I spend a large part of the day exploring the rocky headland that
gives the park its name...
The actual rocky cape.
Dead trees in a dry swamp.
...then ride down to Craig's
His dad's there, as well as a couple of mates,
they've been down at the pub for some time and are quick to offer
me a beer as I enter. Well who am I to refuse?
Tonight's dinner is on the floor, a newspaper-enclosed
slab of pork. It's sitting in the sun, and someone suggests that
it should be moved. There's no fridge, so Craig puts it in the meat
safe (a free-standing cupboard with fly wire sides). "You can't
be to careful" he says, "I got that salmonella poisoning
once from some old rice in a pan, I was crook for days".
I look down and notice that his only fry pan still
holds remnants of yesterday's rice. I'll be eating at home tonight.
I also spot the milk sitting on a table and ask
how long that lasts. "What's it smell like?" Craig asks.
I take a whiff and reply that it seems OK. "At least a day
and a half then" he says.
Everyone here is, or has been, a professional
fisherman, and at least two seem to have a working knowledge of
Risdon Prison, with statements like "Oh there's TV in B-block
now?", and "I hear they're two-up in the cells these days".
Still they're a good bunch of blokes, and even
though I know almost nothing about fishing, and even less about
prisons, I feel quite at home.
I ride back to the truck for dinner, then return
to spend the evening sitting around the fire and chatting with the
lads. There's no beer left so I settle for a white tea. It tastes
fine, so I guess milk is good for at least two days.
Tue 3 Feb
After a gruelling 29-kilometre drive we arrive at Stanley and park
the truck near the wharf. It's a bit too obvious to spend the night
here, being quite near to the caravan park, but will do for the
day. We'll move later.
Meanwhile we explore the area by motorbike. The
main attraction here is probably The Nut, a huge headland that dominates
the skyline for miles.
You can spend $8 for a chairlift ride to the top,
or walk up for free. We elect to do neither.
At about 6PM we move Wothahellizat over to the
nice grassy area behind the beach, then I head off looking for photos.
The Nut, Stanley's famous landmark.
The classic shot that everyone takes of the old convict barracks.
Ruins below the "Highfield" historic site.
Wed 4 Feb
Before dawn, at around 5AM, Chris wakes me to tell me that it's
5AM before dawn, and that I should be up photographing something.
I stick my head out through the hatch and find
that the sky is indeed looking nice, with The Nut in silhouette.
It's cold, and I'm not keen at first, but soon
gain enthusiasm as I walk down the beach and see the reflections.
The Nut at sunrise
Chris just opens the shutter and watches the dawn
from a nice warm bed.
After my early start to the day I just relax in
my recliner, watching the pacific gulls with binoculars (no the
gulls don't have binoculars, I do).
It's fascinating to observe the juvenile birds
pester their parents for food. For the most part the parents seem
uninterested, and in fact actively try to get away from the chick.
Eventually though, according to some signal I'm
not privy to, the adult bird dribbles a bit, then spews up a huge
fish. The chick swallows it whole almost before it hits the sand.
On another occasion I watch a gull trying to break
open what I assume is a shellfish or crab. The bird flies to a height
of about 20 metres and drops the unfortunate morsel onto the beach.
The sand is quite hard but not hard enough, and
after a few attempts it becomes clear to the bird that this isn't
going to work. It moves it's operations to the nearby rocks, and
before long is extracting entrails from it's free-falling dinner.
Soon after watching the aerial entré my
early start to the day catches up with me, and I nod off.
On waking I scan the beach for something of interest
and see some people standing around looking down at an object. One
is photographing the object as well.
It's all too much for my curious mind, so I ride
towards the other end of the beach and walk over to see for myself.
The object of interest is a huge jelly fish, over
600mm (2 feet) wide. I also take a photo, but then realise that
there is no sense of scale, so take another with my feet in the
Huge jelly fish.
It's getting late in the evening and the light
is improving by the minute, so I spend the next hour or so in the
cemetery, and down at the wharf.
Looking towards "Highfield" from the cemetery.
The main beach, note Wothahellizat and two other motorhomes
parked behind the dunes.
Waxy-looking plant in the wharf area.
Pacific gulls, cray boats and Cray pots.
The Professional Fisherman's Association office is badly in
need of a coat of paint
Thu 5 Feb
We drive down to Mallawah and pull into the campground at Green
Point. The situation that we though would occur eventually, ie.
we arrive to find an area already full of motorhomes, finally does
The area is full of motorhomes, which makes it
difficult to find a spot. With the large rally occurring next month
it's a problem that I'm sure will worsen.
Anyway we squeeze in and make ourselves at home.
A shack and the owner's boat moored off shore.
Fri 6 Feb
We're too lazy to move, and anyway there's a lot of birdlife to
Immature pacific gull.
Mature pacific gull.
Juvenile crested tern.
Tern stretches its wings.
Silver gull takes off leaving a trail of water droplets.
Tue 10 Feb
We continue south, driving through the small community of Arthur
River, over the one-lane bridge, and into the Arthur Piemen Conservation
We're looking for a campsite on the Sundown River,
but appear to have zigged when we should have zagged down one of
the many tracks.
However it turns out for the best as we find a
great spot right on the water, whereas the campground we were looking
for is behind the dunes.
Wothahellizat in its natural habitat.
While an off-road vehicle is not strictly necessary
to get here, there are some spots on the track where a high ground
clearance is needed, and we have to drive through some soft sand,
so the truck's abilities allow us to get to this spot.
If you're a regular reader of this diary you will
know that we don't really go "off-roading" in the truck,
but there's been numerous occasions where it's abilities, over that
of a normal motorhome, have got us to really nice campsites.
In this case Wothahellizat has saved us from a
crowded, costly campground with no view, and got us to a private
beach that's free and isolated.
Wed 11 Feb
I spend most of the day hunkered over the desktop computer, preparing
some scans for shipping.
At about five I've had enough and go wandering
with a camera.
A cicada trapped in an old spider web. I released it after
it smiled for the camera.
Bumble bee on thistle.
Plants and rock formations along the coast
Thu 12 Feb
I have more photos to send off today so ride the 32 kilometres into
the nearest town. Fortunately the rain held off until I return,
As I pass through Arthur River on my return I
notice that my front tyre is nearly flat, and I have to take it
very easy for the rest of the trip. There's nowhere to fix it, or
even pump it up, in the tiny settlement of Arthur River.
Whether it's been going down for months and I
just haven't noticed, or I hit one of the numerous sharp rocks on
the dirt road into town, I don't know. When I get back to the truck
I pump it up, tomorrow I'll see if its held the air.
Fri 13 Feb
The motorbike tyre held the air pretty well over night but it seems
to have pinched the tube between the rim and tyre. It looks like
it will have to be pulled off and checked, but my tyre levers are
for trucks, and appear to be too large.
This afternoon I head back down to the kelp looking
Abstract shapes in the bull kelp
I start with long trousers and boots, but after
getting a bit wet I swap to shorts and my neoprene skin-diving booties.
Just as well as it happens. The small cove I'm
working in doesn't get any waves as such, but there are frequent
surges of water that are quiet large and powerful.
While concentrating on a close-up of some kelp
I here a surge behind me and stand up just in time to brace myself.
The water comes well over my ankles and I'm thinking
it's a good thing I ditched the boots. Then is gets over my knees
knees, and I'm thinking it's a good thing I ditched the long pants.
Then it gets over my waste and I'm thinking it's
a good thing I've got another camera.
Fortunately I manage to hold the camera high and
maintain my balance on the rock. The water peaks at around stomach
level, then returns, causing me to adjust my stance to accommodate
the reversed flow.
Well that was fun, maybe I'll check out that kelp
over there, higher up.
I walk a few metres then look down to see millions
of bugs swarming up the rocks, presumably escaping the recent dunking.
There's so many they blanket the rocks, rather
like the massive wildebeest migration across the Mara River in Africa,
only a lot smaller of course, and there's no crocodiles, no river,
and no wildebeests.
Well we work with what we have.
Some nature photographers have lions, cheetahs
and antelopes, I've got rotting kelp and bugs.
Bugs escape the tide.
I like to show an animal in its landscape. In this case the
animal is about 5mm long and the "landscape" is
a few square inches of kelp
The seas get larger as the day progresses, there's
some huge waves just offshore, but they're broken by the rocks before
they get anywhere near our beach and campsite.
At times though the water does surge to within
about four metres of the truck, still there's no indication that
it gets much closer than that. Not often anyway.
I should be out photographing the waves, but appear
to have been offered a beer or two by a young couple that pulled
in with a 4x4 earlier.
Sat 14 Feb
The wind has changed direction and strength today. It's now more
easterly, and a howling gale.
The waves are almost as large as yesterday.
Not as large as yesterday, but these waves are still pretty big.
We decide to sit tight for the day and watch the