Those Roaring Forties - famed in this region

So the morning dawns wet and windy. Roaring forties is isn't but it is more blustery than yesterday. The whitecaps are dancing in the bay in front of our unit. And the exposed front of the motel units are being showered with salt-laden air blown in from the water over the low bushes that have also succumbed to the stiff breeze. Certainly explains the rusting on outdoor furniture and window and door frames.

The motel has a tired, defeated air. Planter boxes outside each room have plants that are clinging stubbornly to life. Just. The rooms are clean, we have met the cleaner both days - she is pleasant and seems efficient, but everything is being done on a tight budget. The motel has a For Sale sign, but any buyer will be knocking down the dollars for sure. The 'accessible' room that we have been allocated is nothing of the sort. There has been a token effort - handrails have been added to the toilet and shower but the facilities themselves are not accessible - it would meet any standard inspection.

It has a comfortable bed, but when you see all the schmick advertising for King Island this is not what you expect.

In fact, King Island has not been anything like what we expected. There is beauty here, a rugged defiant beauty. The land is under considerable strain. When we tell people we are from Queensland, they beg us to send the rain this way. The land is in drought and looks like it has been for some time. Its yellow and dry and the incessant wind is eroding areas where uncounted heads of cattle have walked the same path one after another time after time. There are not a lot of large trees, there are stands of paper-barks and stringy mulga with the odd white gums that shed their shards so that they drape on the bushy undergrowth. When we drive through wooded areas there is enough ti-tree that you can smell it on the air.

Gen goes down to the Bakery to buy Egg and Bacon Rolls for breakfast and adds cheddar to each and avocado to hers. They are delicious. Freshly made on lovely soft long rolls with crusty semolina tops. They are too big for me to finish, but only because of the generosity of the fillings. And the coffee is good. And strong. Mmmm.

We have decided to take a look at the south of the island today. We head out towards Grassy (grassy what, afterall, it is usually an adjective) and take a detour to see the Calcified Forest. Remembering what we were told by the car rental agent, if its on the map, its okay. So we confidently set down the gravel road. Now, the same rental agent also told us that the map is not accurate. As we lose GPS on Gen's phone, we also learnt that this statement is very very true. Distances are approximations only and roads are not marked accurately - like listed once when there are two entrqances, like distances not being anywhere near correct - kind of helps to explain why so many ships hit the rocks - the directions are shite, and have been so for hundreds of years! But the outcome of not being where you think you are is that you are more likely to have an adventure!

We head off on what we think is Seal Rocks Road, and later turned out it was Seal River Road. The road (read bush track) gets sandy. Gen tenses up and I tell her to breathe. Let the car find its own way. We finally end up at a locked gate and the track abruptly stops. So we turn around and go back to the junction, only then realising that we mis-read the sign and have travelled down Seal River Road, not Seal Rocks Road. We continue on what is now the correct road, gravel but much better than the bush track we have just left. We work out that we have been down to the Colliers Swamp Conservation Area, getting as far as Big Lake. Our plan had been to visit the Calcified Forest just near Seal Roacks. Nearing the correct site, we see a new(ish) Parks and Wildlife sign announcing that we have indeed arrived at the Calcified Forest! Well, we have arrived at the carpark.

As I mentioned earlier, the map is at best a mud map, the signs are just as contradictory!  One sign says 630m each way and the other says 1.5 km return. While my maths might have once been questionable, even can calculate that the two figures differ by 240m. Not a big deal normally, but to me it most definitely IS a big deal. I had said to Gen this morning that I would have a go at walking the track - it is graded a 2 - easy, but not wheelchair friendly. Just after leaving the carpark we are met with the first of the uphill sections. Now, remember that the base landform here is one of dunes. And dunes travel (might explain the dicsrepancy in the length) but these are well stabilised dunes with grasses, mulga, ti-tree and the odd gum. Up hill, down hill we walk. And again, and again. In steeper parts, the path has been compacted with light gravel and edging boards, but overall it is very sandy. We have been walking for about 30 minutes with Gen leading the way and pausing every 40 - 50m to turn back and check that I am still following. Its about now that my legs are heading for jelly, as I said, an easy walk compounded by the sand. We see yet another hill so Gen suggests that I wait a minute while she pushes forward to see how much further it is. she is back quickly to announce tht the walk ends just over the next hill BUT it ends at a 100m walk across loose sand before you reach a timber viewing platform. With timber steps that begin with a large step from soft sand. Disappointed was not the word either of us use. There is now way that I can do this safely. So Gen pushes on to climb the platform and get some photos, while I turn to walk slowly back to the car. Now, natue is a strange beast - there is a small swallow on the path ahead of me. We chirp away together as I plod on. About 30m ahead, it hops ahead of me, stopping frequently to make sure I'm still with him. My own light avian guide!

I get to the car about 4 minutes before Gen and am happy to stop, leaning against the dusty car to catch my breath. Too bad I didn't think to get one of the bananas or the water we are carrying from Gen before we parted! She's back before I know it and we both have a well-earned drink, draining the water-bottle dry. Sitting back in the car, we eat our bananas and are set to leave when another car arrives. Out hops a lady who takes a pack out. Booted up, pack on her back, I am sure that she was better suited to take that walk and even if it was a 1.5km return walk, it probably only felt like 1260m to her! Still I'm proud of myself. I would have walked just over a kilometre - the best I've done in a long time and even a low-graded walk, I can't help but think that if an anthropologist were to walk that path today, they would probably scratch their head and at our tracks (how do you explain a perfectly round small indent alongside my footprint?!

We still haven't reached Grassy (grassy what??) so decide to give Surprise Bay where another boat was wrecked. Back to Pearshape - yes, that is the name of a locality here -settlers obviously had a sense of humour - can't believe that they have named an area Snodgrass - a favourite Goon character of Michaels! We get to Grassy - the second largest settlement on the Island and is laid out in a more ordered grid pattern. Still very tired looking, there is evidence of some newer construction. Lord knows what it would cost to build over here- all construction materials would need to be freighted in by barge. But for the most, it is simple weatherboard construction which weathers poorly really - it is whited-out, an outcome of inhospitable weather. The most modern building here apart from one or two swanky new-come homes, is the hospital.

Right along this coast there are countless shipwrecks. And its easy to see why. The Island itself might be sandy, but it is completely enclosed by rocky outcrops and platforms. There is another lighthouse, the main port that had been used until the 1990s to ship scheelite mined just above the port. This is a mineral used in the making of tungestan and the company will have made some tidy $ during its operation, but they have done a very poor effort to rehablilitate the land. At the point beyond the port, which is now used to live-ship beef cattle (We see one laden trailer being shipped to the wharf area) there is a Penguin colony. As it is the middle of the day, we don't bother going all the way down to it as they are nocturnal and so will only be seen at night. We want to visit the Historical Museum at Currie that is only open and manned by volunteers every second day, so today it is. It is open between 2 and 4, and its almost 2pm now.

We follow the main road back and ignore Siri when she wants us to take the scenic route. There are lots of wildlife for us to encounter on the way back, all of which like to use the roads, perhaps because it warms up during the day. We dodge wallabies, pademelons, Cape Barren Geese, domestic turkeys (gone wild) farmed geese and a myriad of birds - turn out that the Island is a bird haven with a number of hides strategically located at various sites across the island - Cecile would love it! We see eagles, hawks, thousands of finces, and of swallows, magpies on steroids, butcher birds and more black birds than there are people on the Island. We even encounter a small herd of Black Angus cattle on the road and patiently need to wait for them to decide which way they will scamper.

Like the rest of Australia, roadworks rule the activity here - there are a number of projects being funded with federal government funding displaying the all familiar signage that I know from work. And with that construction we also see a tree-feling crew - god knows why, the trees are already well back from the narrow roads.  As Gen says, "why are they knocking down our CO2 filters? Lots of newly sealed roads with loose stones. Gen drives like a pro!

We well and truly get our laugh for the day when Gen pulls alongside a gaggle of geese, oh hang on, it was a rafter of turkeys and we spend a few, minutes gobble gobbling back and forward with then. The rooster is becoming quite indignant, probably at our atrocious pronunciation, so we head off laughing before he thinks to attack us!

Finally we arrive back at Currie. We want to have a look at the King Island Museum which is manned by volunteers and only open every other day. Turns out today is the only day it will be open while we are here. It's on the edge of town just below yet another lighthouse. It's only when you get up to lighthouse levels that you can get a true appreciation for the treachery of the rocks. Close to the shore there are a myriad of rock ledges and platforms, and just past them, there are rocky outcrops where the waves break. Makes for testing photos, but I can only imagine how difficult it would be to navigate.

Turns out, the museum is the former Lighthouse Keepers house. At 8 rooms, it was definately the most substantial building in the town. It has been built to weather the weather! The walls are about a foot thick and made of sandstone. The steps up into each room is large and the floorboards are wide original timbers. The museum has one volunteer on duty.  She tells us that she contacted her friend on her way in telling her that town didn't seem busy so there was no need for her to come in as well! Turns out she was wrong and so she was kept very busy - there three other groups there at the same time as us. She was a wealth of local knowledge and passionate about the island and its people. Each room has been develop around a theme. Is it obvious that this museum has had the support of a professional catalogue service. The exhibits are well displayed and relate well to the theme of the room. Gen isn't really a museum kind of person, but here she finds enough to keep her busy while I drink in family histories and even read up a bit on some of the shipwrecks. The volunteer was saying that up until 1976 anyone could salvage from shipwrecks, but that after that it was banned. One of the visitors commented that she saw evidence of someone with a metal detector on one of the beaches this morning.

I was asking the volunteer (Val) whether there had been a resurgence of population in town, based on the ABS statistics that I read this morning. She was delighted to tell me that there had been a number of younger families with ties to the history of the Island returning, bringing much needed children - so much so that an extra teacher has been sent to the school. We have seen much evidence of young ones, but it is still the school term, so I guess they are inside mostly on weekdays.

We have booked accommodation in for dinner tonight at Boomerang By The Sea- the motel where we are staying - by all a counts it is a good restaurant and at the time of booking we see that it is operated by different people. After our visit to the museum we had gone back to our unit and I had had a sleep - that walk had done me in today!

We hear cars arrive and when we open the door just before 7 to walk around to the restaurant, the car park is full.

Up some unfriendly steps into the restaurant which is not quite full, but definitely doing a good trade. We are seated near a large picture window that in the long summer days (and with the added benefit of daylight saving a mere week ago) would have afforded a stunning view. Tonight all we see is black as the sun had set hours ago. The menu is definitely more upmarket than the pub last night but I am disappointed that there is so little seafood on offer. A friend Prue sends a message to make sure we try the King Crab - oh, if only that was a choice.

There is a tour group of 8 people in and they are all served a half crayfish each - it must have been prearranged as it is not on the menu 😳. 

We select a fried Camembert with fig and walnut jam to share as a starter, served with foccacia. Not what we expect, but much lighter and to be honest, nicer. Gen is thrilled that they have a good selection of meat choices and settles for Aged King Island Scotch Fillet, cooked blue and served with confit local potatoes, baby carrots and brocollini. I had the Prawn and Crab Papardelle - hold the chilli. It to was cooked to perfection, although a very big serve with 8 large prawns still succulent and quite a bit of Crab broken through the dish. Our preferred King Island chesse plate was sold out (what the?!) so we chose a creme brulee and a Sundae. Hard to stuff those up. Port arrived, but coffee didn't. Not quite what we expected. We both got the feeling that the main tourism market is the golfer these days - overhearing the partners of the chest-bumping golfers, we get the impression that they feel likewise.

Back to our room, down those steps (our waiter was nice enough to offer a hand) and I begin the blog. Internet coverage drops out well before I am finished so I go to bed frustrated to have lost an hours worth of wit. 😞 😞