A glass eye and a rottweiler.

Trouble with the bike. It started OK but only got a few metres before the engine cut out leaving our traveller stranded in the camp ground. After some time, an old guy with a glass eye and a rottweiler happened to walk by. He knew alot about bikes and demonstrated how to remove and check the plugs and even donated some tools. It turns out that the engine was flooded with fuel. The plan is to take the bike to Launceston for servicing, which is a good idea but it's such a long distance from St Helens. The bike (or transportation in general) is the weak link in the live-remotely plan. The other weak link is communication, the phone batteries need recharging and that has to be done in town. In this instance the bike wouldn't restart and the phone batteries were flat.

No way out!

St Marys Pass is impassable
(ABC news image)

Bridge into St Helens under water
(ABC news image)

Easterly winds of up to 50 kph lash the coast and around 300mm of rain falls on and around St Helens. Unable to make mobile phone contact, mum, who is visiting again, rang from the emergency shelter at the Binalong Bay fire station to say that her (actually my) tent blew away in the wind. The causeway into town is flooded and she will miss her Thursday flight out of Launceston.

"The deluge over the past two days has trapped thousands of people in Bicheno, Derby and St Marys...Flash flooding has isolated towns along the Tasman Highway from Bicheno to Derby...Certainly the Tasman Highway's the major concern because that's the main arterial road through from the north-east to the east coast..."  (source: ABC news)

Ten days in Tasmania.

First campsite at Exeter

Motorcycle repair shop Legana

Binalong Bay

Sunset at Swimcart Beach

Reading on the rocks

Campsite at Cosy Corner

Replacement transportation

Favourite place to visit in St Marys

A story of emotional lows and highs set against the serene beauty of the Bay of Fires and how an anxious worrying parent and his overly-optimistic son dealt with life's challenges...  Not a bad start to a long story but inspiration ran out and that's as far as I got. Here is a selection of recent images taken over the last ten days. More pics can be found here.

Filling in the gaps

I followed Ben's original path from Devonport to Exeter, then Legana, Scottsdale and on to St Helens, meeting people he'd met along the way: Steve at the Ampol service station in Exeter, Scott at Legana and the owners of Willows Roadhouse. Steve and Scott both remembered Ben, and I was too tired to converse with the people at Willows.

Tasmanian roads are narrow, winding and the edges are rough. In the early morning, unladen logging trucks sweep around the corners at high speed. It took hours to reach St Helens and then more time to find the campsite and discover a solitary figure in a motorcycle jacket, sitting on the beach and reading.

The next few days were busy with practicalities. We didn't haul the bike to Legana, just waited for some news of the insurance claim. Now, two weeks later, there's still no news. The bike sat in the car driver's back yard for a week, until we moved it to storage just before I left.

After plenty of earnest discussion and the occasional argument, all transport options were ruled out till we were left with just one, buy another bike. Achieving that goal required lots of advertisement browsing, more discussion, many phone calls and two separate day-trips to Hobart. The end result was a red Ducati Monster, purchased for a good price with the largest wad of cash I've ever had to carry. The duration between reading the ad to actual purchase was six hours, then followed by an epic night drive along the east coast and back to St Helens.

The return trip began in Cambridge, north of Hobart, where we stopped for the best wood-fired pizza in the entire universe. The intention was to stay at Cambridge for the night but there were fires burning in the valley and the air was full of smoke, so we had to push on. The Falcon travelled in front to clear the road or signal, with two stabs of the brake pedal, that wildlife or other hazards (like rocks!) were on the road. The only casualty was one hapless possum who left me with no choice, and I still feel bad about it. It took five hours to complete the trip and we arrived back at camp at 1.30am on Wednesday morning.

The transport problem solved, over the the next few days we sorted out the other practicalities of insurance (comprehensive), how to change registration (not straightforward) and RACT membership (easy).

Fishing would have to be the most popular past time on the coast. People spend heaps of money on rods, reels, hooks, bait and other accessories in the hope of catching a free feed. The local fishing competition at St Helens brought out the 'big guns' with their massive fishing boats towed through town on tri-axle trailers hauled by monstrous trucks. Ben's a small-scale fisherman who can catch a decent feed on most days, and more than he can possibly eat on a really good day.

We visited towns near St Helens: Pyengana, home of the Pub in a Paddock, a cheese factory and St Columba falls; Weldborough, home of the Weldborough Hotel which has a selection of micro-brewed beers and ciders, as well as a non-alcoholic chilli ginger beer that's guaranteed to keep older folk awake all night; St Marys, home of the Mt Elephant Fudge shop and the Cranks and Tinkerers museum; and towns like Scamander and Orford along the east coast.

The cleanest air in Tasmania was discovered at Elephant Pass, high in the mountains and facing the coast, where the air was perfectly crisp, sweet and clean. The restaurant there also sells delicious pancakes.

Some entries from the diary: Scones and coffee at Willows. Yesterday's plans don't seem sensible today as the 2D map becomes real... Woken by the sound of a 4WD reversing and someone yelling, "Stop!" to prevent it backing over a corner of my tent... Possums wandering the campsite last night... People love to catch fish but, every once in a while, when a fish catches a person, we're horrified by it... Two Ducatis available in Hobart and dismay at the thought of driving there and back in a day... Pizzas were exquisite but the cabins had carpet and the air in the valley was smokey... Ben wore my jacket over the top of his leather jacket to stay warm and bit-by-bit we got back "home" - funny that a cotton and polyester fabric dwelling can feel like home but it does... Stopped at the pub for a cider and a game of pool which I won without wearing glasses... The owner said he's looking for staff; 4 hours work per day for a room and food... 

Swimcart beach.

Found.

Sleepless in St Helens.

Ernesto Guevara and Alberto Grenado
continue on foot after the demise of
their motorcycle.

(and Wheelers Hill). It was well after 1am when the final 46 minute phone call ended abruptly. Skype at one end, recently-connected NextG™ mobile at the other but communications ceased when those tiny phone batteries could no longer provide enough power. Lots of 'what if's' in the conversation. What if the driver doesn't have insurance? What if the bike can't be repaired? A few hours earlier, a brief stay in hospital confirmed that no bones were broken and the swollen ankle was just due to bruising. Perhaps the driver didn't notice the bike travelling behind (even though the headlight was on), or consider where it had gone when he veered to the right, or maybe he just forgot it was there when he turned sharply left. An ambulance attended, as did the Fire Brigade but fortunately our traveller wasn't seriously injured. With no transportion and camped 20 km out of town (at a site that doesn't have fresh water), the police drove Ben back to the camp last night. The driver has offered to bring supplies out if he needs them. There'll be a lull in blog posts for the next ten days. I'm heading over on tomorrow evening's boat. We'll hire a trailer, haul the bike back to Legana and see what the insurance company makes of all this.

Fishing activities upscaled.

http://s648.photobucket.com/albums/uu207/Jobekh/

Phone call from Derby, the closest location with mobile reception since the new Telstra phone is still(!) not connected.

Ben's been on a fishing boat for several days. It was unpaid work because they'd hired a deck hand thirty minutes before Ben turned up on the dock. Deck hands earn 10% of the profits which could be a decent amount if the catch is good. It was a trial run, the work was hard and he was sea sick for much of the time. Even now, back on land for two days, he hasn't recovered his 'land legs' and, when he stands still, everything rocks back and forward, rolls up and down, rocks back and forward...

The AAA Self Storage has been cancelled and they owe him a $17 refund which he can collect in Hobart. He's found a storage place in St Helens and will use that (as well as hiding cooking utensils in the bush while on the boat!)

He's also been doing some archery, good exercise I'm told. Internet shopping with deliveries to the local post office is working well. Some books have arrived, as well as a ground mat from Camper's Delight in Deloraine. More items are on the way, including a butane stove/griller that runs for 10 hours on one can of gas.

He hopes to buy an expensive four season or mountaineering tent for the colder weather but, costing around $700, such a transaction would fail with 'insufficient funds' at the present time.

Bay of Fires.

Not much to report today. These two stories may be of some interest. What a difference a few years can make.
Oct 2008.
Tasmania's Bay of Fires world's top spot: Lonely Planet
 "Tasmania's Bay of Fires has been named the world's "hottest" travel destination for 2009 by international guide book Lonely Planet... The Bay of Fires, before this rating, had relatively little visitation compared to other Tasmanian destinations..." Sydney Morning  Herald
Jan 2010.
Bay of Fires among world's most threatened tourist sites
"Independent travel magazine Wanderlust included the sites in its second annual Threatened Wonders list... The magazine said the Bay of Fires, famous for its white sand and crystal blue waters, was in danger of being overrun by tourists..." Sydney Morning Herald 

Great pic from The Motorcycle Diaries (on TV last night).
Who knows where a motorbike trip will lead?

Legerwood.

Allan Robert Andrews
died 1916, aged 19
(web image)

Phone call from Legerwood, a small town on the road to Ringarooma. Legerwood is the home of the World War 1 memorial trees, one of which is shown in the picture. It doesn't look like a tree any more and you can read why here. The camera batteries have run out and our traveller hasn't yet got around to replacing them. I wonder if Ringarooma has its own claim to fame, in addition to an interesting name of course.