Kayaks, snakes, wombats and devils

Kayaking Tasmania's Freycinet Peninsula

At 5:30 I wake up to a horrifying squeal. It’s a sound somewhere between a child screaming in agony and a football hooligan whose team just won the World Cup. My heart skips a beat and I hold my breath.

Outside the tent something is scratching a dry bag. The bag tips over and the sniffing and scratching continues. I try to keep as quiet as possible, not quite sure what is on the other side. Then Chris, my travel partner, unzips his nearby tent and I hear the creature bolt towards the bushes.

“Chris? Did you hear that?” I yell, the words sounding somewhere between fear and excitement.

Chris can’t recall what it was that woke him up. But I know. Or at least I am pretty sure. There is no other animal in the world that can scream like a devil. I tell Chris of my hunch and we keep quiet for a moment, listening for sounds in the distance, hoping to see the creature once more. The devil never returns, but the encounter leaves us no doubt we are now truly in wild Tasmania.

We are in Freycinet National Park, a peninsula of green off the East coast of Australia’s southernmost island. The 169-square-kilometre park contains some of the most rugged coastlines found Down Under. Here three metre-high, steel-blue waves crash against granite cliff seashore. Australia’s Nine television network ran a ‘top-100-try-before-you-die’ list. Kayaking Freycinet earned the number four position.

However, it’s not all roaring waves and high tides. Some of the world’s most beautiful beaches frame the national park. For example, Wineglass Bay, a pearly white shoreline capped by gum tree and eucalyptus-forested mountains is one of Tasmania’s iconic destinations. While paddling along the shoreline, little bays enclosed by red rock bluffs, wattle and heath trees offer great places to rest up and enjoy the view over the turquoise sea.

The sanctuary offers a home to a variety of mammals and marsupials – such as the pademelon wallaby (a small kangaroo), several species of possum and quoll (a cat-like marsupial), the wombat and the echidna (a spiny, football-sized anteater). Tasmanian devils once were common to the park, but due to an aggressive facial tumor disease their numbers have declined sharply, leaving the black-and-white marsupial almost extinct in these woodlands.

Chris and I arrive in Cole’s Bay, just north of Freycinet National Park and rent our kayaks from an operator aptly named Freycinet Adventures. The small settlement of Cole’s Bay is a starting point for anyone wanting to explore the national park and paddle its western shores. If you are deemed experienced enough by the crew at Freycinet Adventures, you’re free to cruise the waters independently with a minimum of two persons. But beware. Those who dare venture out here had better come prepared. It takes experience and good conditioning to be able to paddle the capricious currents. Alternatively, you can ask for a guide to come with you or partake in Freycinet Adventures’ sea kayak tours ranging from one-day paddle trips to multiple-day expedition tours. The tour operator doesn’t allow its kayaks to be paddled along the eastern shore of Freycinet as the coastal terrain there is considered too exposed with only a few landing spots. However, if you are bold enough, you can bring your own boat and launch from nearby Sleepy Bay.

Chris and I paddle from Cole’s Bay to a beach called Hazards Bay, named after the captain of a whaling ship. This five-mile trip takes us along the shoreline of the five peaks of the Hazards Range – Parsons (331 metres), Baudin (413 metres), Dove (485 metres), Amos (454 metres) and Mayson (415 metres). The water in the bay radiates a jade green glow while some gentle waves reflect the sky’s blue. Gannets and southern seagulls fish for snacks, plunging deep into the water, as white-bellied sea eagles cry in the distance. The promise of dolphins leaves me staring out over the water as I paddle on. We land our boats at idyllic inlets hidden by granite rocks and paddle some more until it’s time to set up camp. In the distance lies Schouten Island, the distinctive hallmark border isle of Freycinet National Park. This barren land, approximately 24 km from Cole’s Bay, was named after a member of the Council of the Dutch East India Company by discoverer Abel Tasman (who also gave his name to Tasmania). Schouten Island looks as inaccessible with sheer granite and dolerite cliffs rising from the whirling Tasman Sea. There are no tranquil beaches here. Schouten is a rugged 70-square-km terrain with jagged rock borders formerly used to mine for coal. There is, however, one landing spot on the whole island which allows one to land on Schouten’s rocky shores and enjoy the sight of visiting Australian fur seals.

After we set up camp, Chris and I take a leisurely stroll along the Isthmus track, a 2.5-km trail that leads from Hazards Bay to Wineglass Bay and back. Almost everywhere in the park can you land your kayak on a beach and hike a trail. Some trails lead to easily accessible lookout points, others to paradise-like shorelines where the sand crackles and squeaks underneath your feet because of its unique grain structure. Whenever on shore exploring the park, I keep a wary eye open for some ‘friendly locals.’ Australia, and thus Tasmania too, has always been famous for its ferocious creepy crawlies. While on the Isthmus trail I see some people stopped dead in their tracks and pointing at the tall grass right next to the path. They whisper nervously, folding their hands in front of their mouths, eyes fixated on whatever is in that grass.

As I come closer I see a two-metre black snake slithering through the vegetation. It sticks its forked tongue in the air and steadily heads for the bush cover. It’s a tiger snake, one of three deadly snakes that inhabit Freycinet

“Is that a dangerous snake?” one woman asks.

“Of course,” another answers. “You are, after all, in wild Tasmania.”

Sandra Lucas is a resident of The Netherlands currently traveling in Mauritius. She can be reached at satoya82@yahoo.com