There are a few ways to experience the Tarkine Wilderness while staying at Corinna and the Old Telegraph Hill walk is one of them. The beginning of the 1.5 kilometre walk is easy going along a boardwalk through typical Tasmanian rainforest. Towering trees shelter luscious lichens and tannin stained streams.
Fifty metres along, the walkway ends and the trail becomes a little less obvious.
The old cable line reassured us we were on the right track.
Someone has thoughtfully fashioned a stile of sorts to help negotiate the huge body of a fallen hero.
We continued to climb, surrounded by ancient myrtles and leatherwoods
playing host to myriad fungi and lichen.
With feet slipping at all angles along the twisted track
we came across a series of dangling cables and a lone telegraph pole.
The step ladder and aerial confirmed our suspicion that this was our destination.
We had read that there was a chance of getting a signal at this point, although it was hit and miss. With some minor acrobatics we were rewarded.
We had a poke around and found some remnants of long abandoned equipment
before retracing our steps and following the cable downhill.
Toward the end of the boardwalk section, we noticed evidence of burrowing freshwater crayfish. They live in tunnel systems in muddy banks and seepages, rarely venturing out and they construct ‘chimneys’ made from balls of mud at the entrance to their burrows.
Every time we think we have completed our last ‘big project’, another one somehow appears on the list. The large decked area outside the lounge is exposed to the worst of our weather and the timbers have suffered over the years.
Having been advised that replacing it would improve saleability, we took up the challenge. Ekodeck was our material of choice, having used it for a previous project, high winds added a degree of difficulty to the delivery.
We had worked out that if we laid an end board, we could use the full 5.4 metre lengths for the rest and avoid extra trimming. The old boards were cut away to allow for that first board, fitted with precision around the upright posts.
While I set about demolishing the old step,
Michael extended the cut to avoid damaging the new board as we removed the old ones.
We both thought removing the old boards would be the easy part but it took a lot of effort to prise them off. Our concern that the joists and bearers may have needed replacing was, fortunately, unfounded.
More precision cutting
and the first of the long boards was laid.
We made our own joist tape out of concreters plastic (that, for some reason, we have a very large roll of). The cut strips were rolled up, secured with a clothes peg and unfurled as we progressed.
After removing a section of the old boards,
we started laying the new ones
and over the course of two days (working in the mornings only as it was too hot by midday), we were halfway there.
We didn’t remove all the old ones at the beginning because we had to keep the area covered so our nocturnal furry visitors didn’t go under the house and get sealed in. We continued in the same vein until we came to the last piece.
A bit of head scratching had preceded this point, going from Plan A to Plan D and finally settling on Plan A. More precision cutting
and a perfect result.
A new step up to the front decking was fashioned
and a smaller step down to the garden.
Now we have a few hours (days/weeks/months) of sanding and staining the uprights and balustrade as well as the facing boards. Then, eventually, staining the rest of the old deck. Then…….
We have been to the town of Stanley on many occasions, it is one of the ‘go to’ places to take visitors. The signpost on the highway to Dip Falls, 27km inland, has always intrigued me but time has been our limiting factor in the past. We decided to stay overnight on our latest trip which gave us the opportunity for a detour and picnic lunch. The peaceful drive through picturesque farmland was on a mostly sealed road with the last few kilometres unsealed but well maintained. We chose to view the falls from below first, the initial impression on our descent held promise of something spectacular.
The stairs are steep but easily traversed (with a rest or two on the ascent).
The roar of the tumbling water and further glimpses through the foliage spurred us on.
The wonder that awaited us was breathtaking.
In the absence of a very wide angle lens, I resorted to photographing sections of the falls as the two tiers dropped thirty metres over distinctive dolerite columns.
The tranquility downstream belied the tempest of the falls mere metres away.
At the top of the falls, the serene waters were idyllically unaware of their impending adventure.
Even from the lookout, the extent of the vista demanded serial photographs.
Dip River was once a working forest and during the 1920s, the small community of three houses endured isolation and hardship to manage the sawmill. Not far from the top of the falls, remnants of an old boiler that provided steam to power the sawmill, lies as a reminder of Tasmania’s timber heritage.
A leisurely way to experience the Tarkine Wilderness is to spend a few hours on the Pieman River aboard the heritage vessel, MV Arcadia II.
The 17 metre boat was built of Huon Pine in 1939 as a luxury pleasure craft based in Hobart. She was requisitioned to serve as a supply ship in New Guinea during the Second World War. Life became more peaceful as a scallop fishing boat on the east coast of Tasmania and then as a cruise boat on Macquarie Harbour and the Gordon River in 1961.
The Arcadia II has been cruising the Pieman River since 1970 and is the only Huon Pine river cruiser still operating anywhere in the world. A refurbishment in 2006 returned her to original pristine condition. I was hoping we had no need for the lifeboat.
We departed from Corinna at 10am on a moody, overcast morning.
Huon Pines dipped their pendulous foliage in the tannin hued water
as we rounded a bend, leaving Corinna behind .
The 434 metre peak of Mount Donaldson, part of the Norfolk Range, loomed in the distance
as we passed the confluence of the Savage River, ending its 71.7km journey.
A little further downstream, the Donaldson River also flows into the Pieman after a 54km course from its source.
We were hopeful for a sighting of the ever elusive platypus and, keeping our eyes peeled, we weren’t disappointed.
We would have missed the sea eagles nest if it hadn’t been pointed out by the skipper.
Enjoying the tranquility, we were served hot chocolate, cake and biscuits – what could be better?
As the skies cleared and the forest vegetation changed, we soon arrived at our destination.
Pieman Heads, where the Pieman River meets the Indian Ocean, marks the southern extremity of the Arthur-Pieman Conservation Area.
Breathing in the freshest air on Earth, we walked a few hundred metres from the boat and perched amongst the driftwood to savour our tasty packed lunch.
Strolling back an hour or so later, we came across an interesting structure. The Huon Pine timbers were recovered from the river in 2005 after spending forty years buried in silt and sand at the heads. They were part of the original Corinna barge, built in 1878, that transported prospectors, surveyors, livestock and general goods across the river using a cable and hand winch. From 1945, the barge plied up and down the river assisted by a power boat tied alongside. It’s life came to an end when, in 1964, it was washed away from its moorings in a flood and lost.
We returned to our more reliable form of transport
with nothing to do but relax and enjoy the ride.
The mysterious stairway along the river, not far downstream from Corinna, leads to Lovers Falls.
There is a shorter cruise on a smaller craft, (Sweetwater Cruise) that ties up at the stairs to enable a walk to the waterfall. The only other way to reach them is by kayak.
Arriving back at Corinna at 2.30pm, we had time for a short walk before bevvies and a delicious dinner at the hotel.
Another project that had been on the ‘to do’ list for a while was completed earlier this year. For some reason, half of the roof on the garage/workshop is clad in colorbond but the other half revealed itself over time to be painted galvanised sheets. As expected, the paint has deteriorated and the rusting eyesore had to go.
The builders were happy to accept our offer of labour to reduce the hours spent (and the dollars). On a sunny, windless day the project began. The new sheets were laid out on the lawn a few at a time
and after a crash course, I set about bending one end of the sheets to fit under the ridge cap.
Meanwhile, the old ones were removed and handed down to us, we handed up the new ones to the roofers and relocated the old ones to a stack out of sight (they have since been collected for recycling).
It wasn’t long before our well oiled machine saw results.
At this point, I reported that there were only eight sheets left and pondered whether there was enough to finish the job. A bit of head scratching and re-measuring found us one sheet short.
We quickly came up with a Plan B, deciding to use a sheet of polycarbonate to align with the workbench below and allow for natural light into the space. A gap was left
and work continued on the rest of the roof.
Lunch break was used to pick up the sheet of poly which slotted in perfectly. With the ridge cap in place
and fascias attached, we still had time to enjoy a beer together and admire our work.