... And Then It All Stopped
[The Gordon River, western Tasmania] |
First there’s the long
drive to Strahan, then the equally long ride across Macquarie Harbour aboard
“Stormbreaker”; the one a lurching test for the stomach, the other a slow,
rocking transition to the wild. For a time the ketch’s skipper is even able to
hoist sail and cut the engine. It could be any time in the last few centuries.
In fact it’s 2012: and the
end of a long and full year. I’ve worked right up till the night before this ten
day sea kayaking trip on the Gordon River. But as “Stormbreaker” drops us at
our remote campsite and chugs off up river, the year suddenly slows to a stop.
An enveloping, welcoming silence falls. We put up tents and tarps, chatter a
little, arrange a communal area for the five of us, and generally settle in.
Then we notice how occupied the silence is.
[Sailing into the wilderness on "Stormbreaker"] |
Wavelets are licking at
the shoreline, the wind is shushing through the foliage, birds are jikking, chipping, caroling and chattering, bees and march flies buzzing and
humming. This is no silence: it is a chaotic symphony, at once serene and
frenetic.
I try to get my ear and eye
in by identifying birds and plants. It’s one way to manage the massive
transition from busyness to wild pause. We’ve chosen to be away from the usual
Christmas rush. We will celebrate Christmas on the Franklin River, if all goes
to plan. It’s made me feel disconnected from the swelling streets and shops of
Hobart; the trickle of Christmas cards; the torrent of Christmas marketing. As
much as I love Christmas, this year will be different.
“10 days sea kayaking on
the Gordon River” I’ve been telling anyone who would listen in the lead up to
the trip. In my own mind I’ve conjured images of long days paddling deeper into
the wilderness – as perhaps we will. But our first full day starts lazily, with
nearly as much time practising our favourite beverage preparations as our
paddling techniques. (Espresso coffee made with beans freshly ground on a hand
grinder sets an agreeable if unusual tone for a “wilderness” trip!)
[Gordon River vegetation in profusion] |
But our paddling time soon
reminds us we’re on a wild river. We see no other soul, just wide, calm,
coffee-coloured water, unfathomably deep; fringed by high banks and hills
decked in wildly luxuriant vegetation. Huon pine, tea-tree, paperbark, native
laurel, horizontal and myrtle all grow wildly and well in this water-soaked
place.
A different Christmas or
not, one plant above all is determined to put up its decorations. Tasmanian
Christmas bush, aka mountain lilac (Prostanthera
lasianthos), is fully in bloom all along the river banks. A tree that is
otherwise inconspicuous can put on a spectacular display at this time of the
year. Its deeply lobed flowers are a range of whites, if such a thing can be
imagined. Some trees have flowers with a pinkish tinge, others a pale mauve
tint, some the purist, luminous white. But all flowers here have purple throats.
[Christmas bush reflections, Gordon River] |
Large sprays of flowers on
the trees are mirrored in the calm waters, strongly contrasted with the trees’ dark
green foliage. At times winds cause masses of flowers to fall into the river.
At first we see just the odd flower floating, four of its lobes catching the
wind like a miniature Spanish galleon.
[A lone Prostanthera flower "sails" the Gordon] |
Before long we see a flotilla, and then what
looks like a whole armada setting sail across the mighty Gordon. If they
conquer nothing else, they win our hearts, distracting us from the rhythmic
work of paddling, bringing us a wonderfully wild Christmas gift.
[Massed Prostanthera flowers] |
1 comment:
Thank you Peter. A wonderful trilogy that touches on my recent experience on the Gordon. Now I just wnat to go back and spend more time there.
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