![]() Divers headed for the Fortescue kelp forest.
![]() Overlooking Governor Island Marine Preserve in Bicheno. |
Trekking Tasmania by Barb Roy The lure of the Australian outback and desire to dive the Great Barrier Reef haunts many of us. But what about Tasmania, the land down under Australia?I boarded an Air New Zealand flight out of Los Angeles in early August for the 12-hour trip to Sydney, Australia. From there I flew to Melbourne, then to Flinders Island, off the Northeastern tip of Tasmania, traveling two days, and several thousand miles back into winter. August in Tasmania is drysuit country with 11-18C (54-68F) degree water temperatures. Mike Nichols, owner of Flinders Island Dive, met me at the airport in a howling windstorm that raged throughout my entire stay. Rather than attempting to dive in such conditions we went trekking in his old Land Rover. First, we hunted wombats, finding the huge fury marsupials on a hillside in dugout dens. Next we searched in vain for wild pigs, of the 300 to 400-pound variety. My next stop was King Island, off the Northwestern tip of Tasmania. The island was covered with green pastures, herds of sheep and cattle, and flocks of wild free-roaming turkeys. Wallabies were everywhere, hopping about sometimes curious of our presence. We wasted no time. I was out on my first boat dive with Neale Batey, operator of King Island Dive Charters and another diver who wanted to collect a cray or two (lobster). Green lipped abalone was on Neal's mind. I just wanted to get my camera wet. During the winter months bad weather makes access to many of the wrecks difficult so we dove one of the many perpendicular finger-reefs stretching out from land. "We usually don't dive during the winter," said Neale, climbing into his dry suit. "My wet suit is too thin, made for summer temperatures." The water temperature was 15.5C (60F). With 20 meters (65feet) of visibility, the dive felt to me like a cold-water, tropical dive. Rainbow-coloured fish of all sizes milled about the long, thin outcropping reefs. Orange and red sea fans swayed with the mild surge and the guys collected their quota of abalone, and one cray. Later that night I shared in the feast, sampling some of the best seafood I have ever tasted. When we weren't diving from shore or boat, Neale showed me the sights such as the kelp harvesting operations. Huge wide strands are gathered from the beaches, hung and dried and shipped off to make various products. We also visited the site of several nasty shipwrecks from which Neale has collected many treasures. The rest of my time was devoted to exploring Tasmania's eastern coast, trying to remain mindful of driving on the left side of the road. I would have included the western half, but a dense rain forest covers most of it. Starting at the southeastern tip, I drove to Eaglehawk Neck. Gary Myors, his friendly staff and a group of visiting divers (all grandmothers!) urged me to join in on a boat dive to Fortescue Bay, home to a vast forest of kelp. Beneath the crystal blue water, a canopy of kelp at the top of sixty-foot strands filtered the light. The Tasmanian kelp is similar to our macrocystis variety. Odd looking anemones, tunicates, lacy soft corals and stunning nudibranchs covered the ocean floor. Sculpins, skates and seahorses added to the menagerie. One of my favorite dives was in Waterfall Bay. A steep, weather-beaten rock formation towered above thundering waves echoing below. The view underwater was just as impressive. I marveled at entire walls covered with invertebrates. Coming across an illusive hand fish on eggs, deep within the shelter of a crevice, I tried in vain to photograph it. Huge dark caves framed schools of tiny passing fish. Even the sunflower stars were unrivaled in texture and pattern design. My next destination was Bicheno, northeast of Hobart, Tasmania's capitol city. The enchanting Freycinet National Park was also on the way. It was awesome! A refreshing untouched natural setting full of nature trails. Breathtaking scenery wrapped around every winding curve in a never-ending coastline. Rising early, I met up with a group from the Bicheno Dive Centre. Governor Island Marine Nature Preserve was a quick 10-minute boat ride, where most of the local diving is done. About 28 different sites, ranging from 18-36 meters (59-118 feet), offered a selection of walls, reefs, caves and a kelp forest. Descending along the sloping contour of the island, I was in awe at all the colour and life. Brilliant clusters of finger sponge, and what looked like a basket star clung tight to the branch of a red gorgonian sea fan. Soon I came to a sandy valley between large boulders covered with yellow zoanthids. Along the walls, delicate sea whips, some adorned with pink and white jeweled anemones, helped to make the dive a photographic dream. Later we went for a shore dive in another part of the park. We scanned the 9-meter (30-foot) bottom over kelp-covered outcroppings of reef. Schools of baitfish swirled in spirals above as we searched for sea horses. Finding a yellow pot-bellied seahorse, I foolishly shot off an entire roll of film. What was I thinking? Not long after we came across a rare leafy sea dragon. Yes, swearing is possible with a regulator in your mouth. Before leaving Tasmania I wanted to see some wildlife up close. Bicheno was one of the few places fairy penguins emerge from the sea just after dark to nest in the brush. At first light they return to water. (I was also able to see them on King Island) A soft, velvety penguin scampered across my lap as I knelt to take a photograph. At a nearby animal park I found Tasmanian devils, black swans, pink galahs (medium-sized cockatoo) and a laughing kookaburra. Kangaroos, emu, and the strange looking Cape Barren geese were freely wandering about. After checking out the Cadbury Chocolate Factory and some of Tasmania's beautiful vineyards, I came across Seahorse, Australia, a commercial seahorse farm. Pot-bellied sea horses were being raised for public aquariums, scientific research, retail sales and several other uses. Few places I have been can compare to our Pacific Northwest, but Tasmania is by far the closest. Its land is wildly enchanting, the people are proud and its underwater realm is unparalleled in diversity. |