The Tarkine Wilderness in Tasmania shouldn’t be such a secret a location.
Having walked, or stumbled, the length of the Overland Track, explored the furthest reaches of Mount Field and Freycinet National Parks, clambered over, but mostly around, peaks throughout the island state, I reckoned I knew a fair bit about Tasmania’s unique environmental wonders. I was astonished however to discover how little I knew about this part of wild Tasmania.
The Tarkine contains the largest temperate rainforest in the southern hemisphere, the second largest in the world (after the Tongass rainforest in Alaska’s panhandle), its stretch of extraordinary coastline contains over 40,000 significant archaeological sites, probably more than anywhere else on the planet, its granite and quartz mountain ranges are virtually unexplored and it’s the last redoubt of the endangered Tasmanian Devil.
If this isn’t enough, the Tarkine is the remaining place where several reliable sightings of a live thylacine were recorded. The Tasmanian tiger, if it still exists, prowls the Tarkine.
It’s where Huon pines of incredible antiquity grow where they shouldn’t, on mountain tops, where eucalyptus obliqua reach heights of over seventy metres, where dense stands of myrtle still look as though a dinosaur is about to emerge from their hidden depths.
Lichens of stunning variety coalesce on surf swept beach boulders. Mosses of endless textural combinations and colours held my fascination for hours. Normally I’m bored with mosses, but not here.
In fact, the Tarkine is never boring. During my week’s walking and driving tour to explore its trio of rainforest, coast and mountains I was on perpetual alert, not wanting to miss a single sight.
The introductory camp was like a scene out of Tolkien’s The Hobbit. Towering trees ringed our tents assembled along a ridgeline above the Huskisson River. My fellow walkers were a mixed bunch of eager professionals, sharing a commitment to saving the precious little wilderness left and keen to experience it firsthand. Our two guides were virtual encyclopaedia. What they didn’t know about the history, ecology, wildlife and politics of the Tarkine was simply not worth mentioning.
Put simply, we walked in awe. Conversations around warming campfires, sharing quality Tasmanian wines and decent food turned easily to challenging topics. There was no need for ice breakers. When you’ve been humbled by a tree that is older than just about any other living thing on the planet, stimulating discussions naturally ensue. It was also a lot of fun to exchange views with people I wouldn’t normally encounter cooped up in an office.
After two day’s exploration of the Huskisson valley complete, we moved to the next stage of our journey. After a couple of nights in sleeping bags with minimal washing water, it’s carry in and carry out, we were given a night in Corinna, in a spanking new eco-friendly cabin. The hot showers were a welcomed bonus. The old mining town, Corinna is currently undergoing a rebirth. Its location on the Pieman River is unparalleled. Funded by a consortium of providential investors, former Australian Tourism Commission supremo Ken Boundy among them, tiny Corinna has become the base camp for all exploration into the fastnesses of the Tarkine. It offers a collection of cabins to rent, a restaurant and a small general store.
Our intrepid group, cleaned and combed after a night in Corinna, boarded the gloriously restored Huon pine hulled turn-of-the-century river vessel, Arcadia II, for a four hour cruise down a river just as beautiful as the Gordon. Weaving between lush rainforest slopes, sea eagles soaring overhead, we chugged gently downriver to the Pieman mouth. Here Tasmania meets the roaring 40s head on. Huge surf pounds this coastline like giant clubs striking granite walls. House sized boulders shaped by the constant battering conjure weirdly wonderful shapes. Protected coves harbour pellucid water rich in sea life. Countless headlands stretch all the way to Sandy Cape, where the Southern Hemisphere’s largest sand dunes march into the distant horizon.
This coastline is under consideration for UNESCO World Heritage listing and will be placed, hopefully forever, under a protection order. For now, 4-wheel drivers frequently trample over middens thousands of years old. It’s a disgrace to witness such wanton destruction. These middens are holy places, as sacred as the Pyramids of Egypt and far older too. Layers of shells tens of metres high bear witness to a culture that thrived under harsh conditions for millennia. Without recognition, an integral part of our history will be forever lost.
We camped under stars brighter than I’ve ever witnessed. While waves resonated on our beach, inquisitive wallabies checked out our tents and wombats shuffled through the sedge grass. I climbed out of my tent to have another look at the glittering sky and found myself sharing the view with a pademelon.
Returning to Corinna on the trusty Arcadia II, we made a detour to climb Mount Donaldson from which we were humbled by the vistas over the Pieman River, the Norfolk Range, the Savage River rainforest and our route north. It’s a unique view in a unique landscape.
The ‘Road to Nowhere’, officially the West Coast Explorer road, brings us rocking into Arthur River where we spend our last night. Fittingly the ‘Road to Nowhere’ nearly meets ‘The End of the World’. Arthur River residents attract travellers to their petite fishing community proclaiming that this is as far as you can go. An ocean side viewing platform and plaque with a poem written by a local writer commemorates the site. The next landfall is Argentina. We’re so far south that the line of latitude passes south of Africa until reaching land again somewhere in Patagonia. This sort of isolation invigorates me; it certainly must fortify anyone living in Arthur River.
We meet Geoff King at his family property, Kings Run. The King family has been here for generations. Geoff has become its eco-warrior, converting his coastal cattle farm into a haven for wildlife. His specialty is the Tasmanian Devil. With their population plummeting due to facial tumour cancer, presently without a cure, wild devils are becoming very rare sights indeed.
Fortuitously, Geoff’s property is one of their last safe habitats. With permission and instruction from the National Parks and Wildlife Service, Geoff is allowed to set up a feeding station next to his beachside shack. Guest numbers are strictly limited and feeding devils is highly regulated so as not to allow them to become accustomed to free food. Geoff mimics their natural feeding habits by providing a road-kill wallaby carcass. When the circumstances are right, a devil approaches the meat sometime after dusk and settles in for dinner. Once the devil has gone into a feeding pattern, something Geoff describes as a kind of trance state, a light is switched on allowing us to observe the devil through a large window from only a few metres away. We’re told that the devil finishes eating when it begins chewing the tail. It’s the end of the meal so to speak.
We’re in luck. A devil drops in to feed on wallaby. After a half hour, sated and satisfied, our young male devil scampers off into the darkness. Meanwhile, we’ve dined on a delicious seafood stew and local white wines. I guess now I can say that I’ve supped with a devil.
Only in the Tarkine…
Naked Facts:
Tarkine Trails are the only company taking travellers into the Tarkine Wilderness. They offer a series of trips from October through to April.
www.tarkinetrails.com.au
PH: (03) 6223 5320
Geoff’s Kings Run
www.kingsrun.com.au
PH: (03) 6457 1191
For more information on Corinna and the West Coast.
www.corinna.com.au
Burnie makes a convenient entry to the Tarkine. Though the huge pile of woodchips that towers over the city centre is witness to the reality of Tasmania’s continuing battle between forestry industry and forest rescue, there are other charms. The art-deco apartment I stayed in was a surprising delight, tastefully restored and in a great central location. Seaside dining here is a sure winner too, though Penguin a quick trip down the coastal road from Burnie has its own superior restaurant, Wild Café, which should not be missed.
Apartments Downtown
52 Alexander St.
Burnie, TAS
PH: 03 6432 3219
www.apartmentsdowntown.com.au
Wild Café
87 Main Road
Penguin, TAS
PH: 03 6437 2000