10 November 2013 - Stanley Cabin & Tourist Park, Stanley, Tasmania

It was a joy to wake to clear skies yet again, this the last good day before the weather patterns went into decline yet again. “West”, was the call this morning, as it was for our neighbours and the other couple I had chatted with late yesterday afternoon, and so, with the eski packed with lunch, we headed off at about 9 am.

Smithton lies just twelve kilometres west of the turnoff to Stanley, a lovely road through green dairy pastures. Arriving at Smithton, we were at once confronted with the large dairy factory, this one belonging to Tasman Dairy Products, not any one of the big three or four, but it was Fonterra dairy tankers we passed on our way further west.

Smithton lies at the mouth of the Duck River, which gives its name to several business: Duck Inn and such like. It is basically a service centre to the surrounding rural district and the fishing industry, and does not pretend to be otherwise. With a population of 3,935 in the last census, it is significantly larger than Stanley where we are staying, but not half as charming. We drove up to the highest spot in the town from where we hoped to enjoy 360 degree views. Instead we had views out to sea, and mostly across the estuary toward Robbins Island and beyond to Three Hummock Island.

We did not dally beyond this cursory overview but continued on to Arthur River, sixty five kilometres to the south west, passing across swampy flat land, some hummocked to accommodate more dairy farming and some put aside for Adventure Tourism at Dismal Swamp. Now doesn’t that name inspire!?

Arthur River is a tiny fishing and holiday village of little more than 100 residents at the mouth of the river of the same name. From here one has a choice of two river cruises up a truly wild river, untainted by dams or logging and free from bush fires for the past 650 years, although I do think that last claim is a brave one. There were no literate record keepers here that long ago.

The Edge of the World

Across the river on a long and very narrow bridge, we headed a kilometres or two to the coastline where there is a special spot titled “The Edge of the World” where one can drink in the cleanest air Australia has available and enjoy, or not, the wild Roaring 40s winds. Today the winds were not too fierce but quite enough to drive us back into the vehicle within five minutes. Below us, strewn along the river mouth and the immediate shores, were great piles of flood uprooted trees and feral logs from other places; all evidence of the power of the ocean currents and swollen rivers.

  

We pressed on south into the Tarkine, an area very roughly defined and bounded by the coastline to the west, the Arthur River along the north, the Pieman River to the south and the Murchison Highway to the east. Within this area are the Arthur Pieman Conservation Area and the Savage River National Park and great swathes of forest administered by Tasmania Forestry.

The Arthur River

Heading south for fifteen kilometres, we were surprised to find ourselves crossing windswept coastal plains, swampy and populated by stunted vegetation. Warnings of coast quicksand were loud and clear and we complied with the “Stay on the formed roads” instructions. Near Couta Rocks we turned east for sixteen kilometres, still much of these through the same terrain, and then instead of continuing south toward Corinna, a road currently closed, we continued north east along the South Arthur Forest Drive, and entered areas of dense forest interspersed with heathlands. Reaching the second crossing of the Arthur River, we turned south east as this tourist road turned and took us further into the forest, much of it milled back in the late 1970s and now regenerated.

We stopped at the Julius River Forest Reserve and walked the short half hour Rainforest Walk, in twenty minutes, a lovely walk, marked well enough to lead us back to the car, but subtle enough to pretend we were indeed in the deep dark forest.

Lake Chisholm

Then ten kilometres on we walked again at Lake Chishom, a permanently flooded sinkhole, fed by no creeks nor discarding any of the deep pool it holds within the towering eucalypt giants and rainforest species. This too was a half hour walk, but undertaken in shorter time; Chris refused to pause long enough for the midgies and mozzies to settle on exposed skin. On the walk we were much taken with the massive straight trees and the tree ferns supporting up to three parasite ferns.

Once upon a time and perhaps at some time in the future, the road will loop around to the Milkshake Hills and Tayatea Bridge, but for now, the road is closed and so we had to double back to the Arthur Bridge and then carried on east, soon coming out of the South Arthur Forest and through a surprising amount of dairy farming land. Even here, in the countryside, we passed over numerous series of road obstacles to protect the Devil’s crossing the roads. Obviously those who live in this neck of the woods are clever; they know where to cross.

We were back in Stanley by 3 pm, the sun still shining, and looking forward to another day‘s touring in this area tomorrow. Hopefully the forecasters will prove to be wrong. Our neighbours have just pulled in; I wonder if they managed to see as much of this lovely area today as we did today?