4 October 2013 - Treasure Island Caravan Park, Launceston, Tasmania

How faithless I am, to have doubted a plan made by other than myself. On waking, my husband suggested that we undertake the whole of my original two days tour in the one day. Now why had I not thought of that? I agreed at once, after all, it was not I who had to do the driving.

And so we set off soon after 8 am, heading north east into the forested ranges, Mt Arthur of 1,188 metres ASL disappearing into the clouds on our left and the more majestic Mt Barrow which stands 1,413 metres ASL doing the same on our right. The farms we passed were a bit scruffy in the same way many are on New Zealand’s South Island West Coast but then they gave way to heavy forest, tall gums with a dense understory of tree ferns, seemingly impenetrable in the same as New Zealand’s bush is. We wound our way up the Sidling Range, that which we had been warned about and yet not half as bad as expected. However we were not towing the caravan, and if we had been, it would indeed have been a different story. Beyond the summit, we soon arrived at a well laid out lookout, which on a better day, would  have been just fabulous. From here the Scottsdale valley lies below, lush and neat, however today the tableau was veiled in a fine mist. We carried on down the range, and although this side was less windy, it seemed steeper and again we were happy to be travelling with just the landcruiser. I am starting to believe that the best way to travel about Tasmania is in a small motorhome. Our own Winnebago would have served us well but it is still waiting for us in New Zealand, tucked away in storage.

Views from the Sidling Range toward Scottsdale

The area was first surveyed in 1855 by surveyor James Scott, hence the name of the town. Then he reported that here was "the best soil on the island … well watered, with a mild climate” and so it has proved to be over the intervening years, producing potatoes, poppies, hops, pine and eucalypt plantations and dairy produce. 

The area has suffered a downturn over more recent years, even long after the end of the rail link. At the Information Centre today we learned that in very recent years the Birdseye Edgel factory has closed, as has the butter factory and the two mills. According to this rather bitter lady, most of the town’s inhabitants are on Centrelink benefits; the only independently funded folk out on the larger farms. The 2011 census showed that 2,461 people resided in the town and that the unemployment rate was 10.2%. I suspect it is even higher now.

The town itself is perched on the side of the hill sixty eight kilometres from Launceston, 198 metres ASL and today there was not too much of the “mild climate”. A cold wind blew which made our rambling quite unpleasant. We patronised the supermarket and the bakery, not sure what shopping facilities were ahead of us. As it turned out, we need not have worried, however Scottsdale can do with whatever help it can get.

Welcome to Scottsdale country

We also stopped to admire an excellent carved sculpture at the edge of the town and learned it was one of many crafted by an artist who apparently resides in Ledgerwood, a little to the east.

We headed just nineteen kilometres north to the coast, and called into Bridport, described as a seaside refuge for Launceston and Scottsdale families. The resident population of about 1,700 triples in the summer holidays; this suggests that most of the houses are uninhabited most of the time. Again it might suggest that the houses are rather substandard, just holiday baches for temporary accommodation, and yet that was not as they appeared today as we drove about.

Remnants of a jetty at Bridport

This seaside settlement is situated on the sheltered Anderson Bay and has some very pleasant looking beaches. The small port was full of fishing boats and the commercial area well serviced by a small supermarket, hotel, chemist, butcher and so on.

Here there is a well promoted Wildflower Reserve, particularly beautiful in September and October. It may well be, we shall never know. Given our tight schedule and the cool wind, we were not overly enthusiastic about investigating.

We headed thirty two kilometres west, mainly through plantations and sheep country, gentle terrain and passing many dozens of road kill; possums, pademelons and wombats. We passed many logging trucks, carrying their trailers on their backs, heading back toward the forests for their cargo. I was glad we had only met one on the road across to Scottsdale, contrary to the scary tales told by The Chef.

Did I explain the character of our fellow traveller who I have tagged thus? After making our acquaintance, he entertained us for twenty minutes or so, recounting his skill of turning the most modest of cuts or other ingredients into a gourmet feast, with just a dash of cream, a dash of this, or that. At the time it occurred to me that we must not let him anywhere near our own pantry of fridge; he would be appalled at the mundane and ordinariness of our foodstuffs, and even more so if he were to learn that we dine regularly on such a collection of predictable menus. He and his meek little wife left this morning and I suspect we might catch up with them in the ensuing days and weeks. We are more or less on the same course. Perhaps they will invite us to dinner and we can judge his skills ourselves rather than relying on his own self-promotion?

But enough; I should keep such thoughts for my own head and our private conversations rather than sharing or airing them in public.

George Town is Australia’s third oldest settlement after Sydney and Hobart, and Tasmania’s oldest town left standing. European settlement commenced in 1804 when an arrogant Englishmen, such as they were then, ran his ship aground here in the cove, planted a flag, fired three shots in the air and played the national anthem.

There was a time when this settlement just inside the mouth of the Tamar River, here known as Port Dalrymple, was considered a better choice for north Tasmania’s capital.  The situation of Launceston with the better fresh water supply was eventually selected and as they say, the rest is history.

In 2011 the population was 6,906, making it one of the larger towns in the north-east of Tasmania, but then in all fairness, there are not that many towns in this part of the State.

We drove down to the water’s edge and dined on our sandwiches, local apples and our Scottsdale buns, supped our coffee and admired the yachts moored in the cover. There is a heritage centre here in town which I would have liked to visit, however we still had some distance to travel, and so moved on. This is alas a fear we are likely to carry with us as we continue around Tasmania, that we might not have enough time to see and do everything on our list of essential must-dos. We don’t generally do scheduled time restricted tours; it is not our style at all. But here it is Friday already, very soon we will have already been here a week.

But I was intent upon seeing the views of George Town and the river from the top of Mt George, 242 metres ASL promising excellent views of the surrounding landscape. We drove up the very steep sealed road and Chris remarked as he often does in such cases, that he was glad we were not towing the caravan. Near the top we parked and set off up the zigzag board walk toward the even more elevated tower we could see above us. Alas the last of the track was barricaded off with orange plastic netting. We ducked around it and carried on, but were soon stopped by workman who told us there was wet paint everywhere. I asked why we could not have been advised of this at the bottom of the hill and was told by a fluro-vested worker that the council thought tourists might still like to come up and see the relay station. “Yea, right!” I retorted. “We have come a long way for this!” But we retreated down the mountain, back to the East Tamar Highway and continued on our way upriver.

Very soon we passed the turnoff to Bell Bay, an area of heavy industry and associated port activities where can be found an aluminium smelter, a manganese alloy smelter, a power station and a pulp mill. I was disappointed to see this power station here although I can understand that these smelters need their own power generators, but Tasmania proudly produces hydro generated electricity, a rarity in this nation, but this, at Bell Bay is generated by natural gas.

Batman Bridge

Thirteen kilometres upriver, a road branches off the highway and across to the one bridge down river from Launceston, across the wide and meandering Tamar. The Batman Bridge is a modern bridge, constructed between 1964 and 1968, a fact that surprised me. I thought it to be far newer. The bridge is 442 metres long, 10.3 metres wide and 91 metres high, the longest span 206 metres.

We left the access road immediately after reaching the west bank and drove north to the charming riverside settlement of Kayena. Apart from seeing the many boats moored alongside the river bank, we saw the first of many vineyards, spread over what were once dairy farms. Cellar doors beckoned us unsuccessfully as we travelled north west the short distance to famous Beaconsfield.

Reaching the eastern highway, we instead headed a little north, to the site of historic York Town, the operative phrase being "historic site”. Nothing exists of this town which was ever so briefly, in 1805, the capital of north Tasmania. We wandered about, reading the panels and then headed back to Beaconsfield.

Beaconsfield today has a dwindling population of about 1,200 and survives on its history of mining. Gold was first discovered here in 1847 although not mined until the 1870s. In normal gold rush style, the population boomed. Previously known as Brandy Creek, the settlement was renamed Beaconsfield in 1879, the same year underground mining commenced. Soon Beaconsfield became the richest gold town in Tasmania. In 1881 there were fifty three companies working the gold field, although they were eventually absorbed into the one Tasmania Mine. In 1914, the gold mine was closed due to the on-going problems with flooding, after having been worked to a depth of 450 metres and having produced 800,000 ounces of gold.

Museum entrance at Beaconsfield

In 1999 the mine was reopened with mixed success, but it was not this that put modern Beaconsfield on the map.

On 25 April 2006, a small earthquake caused a rock fall in the mine. Fourteen miners escaped to safety, one miner killed and the remaining two were trapped in a shaft approximately one kilometre underground. They were eventually found alive five days later although it took a further two weeks before they were brought to safety. I remember the publicity although my memory did not serve me well as to the timing of this horrendous event. I would have guessed that it happened a decade before.

The Beaconsfield gold mine finally closed in June 2012, and today it is the award winning tourist heritage centre than brings some wealth into the town. Instead of visiting the museum, we wandered about the town, reading the interpretative panels and bought provisions at one of the local supermarkets. The afternoon was passing quickly.

Tamar River looking north

It was only forty kilometres onto to Launceston down the West Tamar Highway, which follows the river sometimes within view and sometimes not. We stopped at a wonderful lookout just south of the small rural centre of Exeter, from where I enjoyed the hazy views up and down the river. Chris preferred to stay in the landcruiser browsing the newspaper. His loss, I assured him.

Soon we found ourselves back in the tight steep streets of Launceston, where we topped up with diesel and headed home after another excellent day and happy in the knowledge that if we don’t get back to this city before sailing from Tasmania, we will have given it a good go. 

And an ironic twist to end the day? The news reported that a couple of pistols, previously the property of Tasmanian bushrangers, have been stolen from the QVMAG visited by us just yesterday. God forbid that we should be held up by these on our travels!