tasnat 1926 vol1 no5 pp1-6 livingstone excursionportdavey

7/28/2019 TasNat 1926 Vol1 No5 Pp1-6 Livingstone ExcursionPortDavey

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~ b t ~ a ~ m a n i a n j l a t u r a l i ~ tTHE JOURNAL OF THE

Tasmanian Field Naturalists' ClubNew Series-Vol. I. APRIL, 1926. No. V.

An Overland Excursion to Port Davey.(By L. H. Livingstone.)

On Christmas morning, 1924, a partyof three, consisting of Messrs. Tom King,Hedley Keogh and myself, entrained atHobart for Fitzgerald, the jumpingoffplace of our longprojected trip throughSouth-Western Tasmania. We packedfourteen days' supplies, our meal list andgeneral equipment list being the resultof many hours' careful consideration toensure our carrying al l necessaries andno needless gear.

Our general equipment was composedof one 10ft. by 8ft. tent fly, one blanketand one waterproof sheet each, onetomahawk, two billies, one frying pan,one candle, and one packet of matcheseach, a length of fine rope each, a D.B.shot gun and belt of cartridges (whichwe hardly used), one mug, plate, knife,fork and spoon each, small towel andsoap. and one spare pair of socks each.Hedley Keogh took an abundant supplyof films for his camera, Tom King armedhimself with a revolver and a hu_ge notebook, in which he entered a faithful record of all items of interest on the trip;while I was equipped with an aneroidbarometer, prismatic compass, map, andfield book.Each man's food pack was composed oftwo 21b. tin loaves, 4lbs. self-raisingflour, 4 tins of bully beef, camp pie, etc.,4lbs. ship's biscuits, 21bs. sugar, lIb. salt,31bs. dried fruit, 21bs. Creamoata, ItIbs.

bacon, 2 tins unsweetened milk, Itlbs.cheese, and two large cakes of chocolate,2lbs. dripping, lIb. split peas, 1 bottleBovril, and tlb. tea. A total of thirtypounds of food in all, the total weight ofeach pack being about 601bs. to 651bs.in all.(1)

Having had Christmas dinner in thetrain, at Fitzgerald we got a pack horseto take our swags as far as Mayne's, sixmiles from the station, where we had abilly of tea, and harnessed ourselves forthe bush track. The track wound uphillfor the first mile, and as we did not feelvery energetic with such a start, we contented ourselves with camping above thebank of Fourteen Mile Creek for ourfirst night, in a beautiful glade of ferns,myrtle, sassafras and high gums.

We arose next morning at 4.15, andgot under' way at 6.45, traversing a longforested shoulder of Mt. Mueller, withoccasional patches of fairly open buttongrass and cutting graSti and tea-tree. Wepassed the two branches of the East Styxin mid morning, and arrived at the WestStyx at dinner time. After about I t mileswe traversed creeks which unite to formthe Weld River, the 12 mile hut beingsituated on the banks of one of them. Atthe hut we met two incoming prospectors,Messrs. R. J. and Sid. Stacey, who gaveus cheering information as to the condition of the Port Davey track lower down.Leaving the myrtle scrub, we passed intoopen countrS, and came to the PortDavey and South Gordon tracks junction.We followed the latter, turning southwest, and camped above a creek about 11miles from the junction, after doing 12miles for the day.

The third day we progressed along thefoothills of Mt. Bowes, through alternations of open button grass and tea-tree anddense belts of. myrtle country. About 9o'clock we entered Bowes Gorge, a steeprocky defile, at the beginning of whichwe shot a big tiger snake. It was herethat we gained our first view of bland-


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THE TASMANIANfordia on the track, but this Bower wasmuch more frequent lower down. Risingto 2350 feet, we then dropped down 300feet, and rose again to 2300 feet in a saddle of another spur of Mount Bowes, andas we began to descend we caught ourfirst glimpse of Lake Pedder, a largesheet of blue lapping the foot of therocky wall of the Frankland Range_ Wecleared the scrub-covered slopes of Bowesby noon, and descended to a button grassplain.

While the billy boiled we gazed at thepanorama spread before us. We wereoverlooking a vast basin, ringed in bymountains, whose masses wcre fashionedin almost endless variety_ Mount Annewas close up on our half left, its majesticcentre peak and its long western spurbeing visible. Through a gap betweentwo high ridges of the spur we glimpseda high peak in the Arthur Range, whilesouth of us loomed up the fantasticFranklands. Westwards showed up theSentinel, while a few miles beyond theplains to the north-west was Mt. Wedgewith its long, timberclad slopes anddomedtopped summit.

In the afternoon we crossed three milesof plains, passing over two big tributariesof the Huon River, and by sunset wewere rounding the western spur of Mt.Anne, which we had first sighted at noon.We camped near the 12 mile .peg (fromthe Junction), on a little mountain torrent rushing down fl'om the wild cragsabove us. About 200 yards to our rightlay the timber-fringed course of the HuonRiver, which took its rise in the foothillsof Mt. Wedge and Mt. Bowes.Overnight the rain greeted us, andbecame our constant companion south ofhere, only leaving us when we passedthis camp on our return journey. On ourfourth morning a walk of ten minutesbrought us to the banks of the HuonRiver, about forty feet wide here,spanned by a log. Its depth was aboutten feet. We straddled the log one at atime with pack on back, moving forwarda few inches at a time. In half an hourwe were all safely across, and soon weentered a mile stretch of myrtle, sassafras and horizontal, the track sidlingalong a steep bank, and being further encumbered by a large number of fallentrees, we had a difficult task in gettingover them with our heavy packs. Eventually we emerged on to the Huon Plains.

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NATURALISTHere we found very few traces of thetrack, about four-fifths of the old originalguidestakes having rotted away. Wemostly struck straight across country,through boggy and treacherous ground.Through the misty rain we steered for ahastily outlined high rugged mountainmass, standing in isolation amid theplain. As we got close to the foot of itthe snn broke through for a few minutes,and we enjoyed a wonderful view of theweird peaks of the Franklands stretching away into the western distance. Onthe Isolated Mountain in front of us th .rocks glittered with a multitude ofcolours in the bright sunlight. Our way,we discovered, lay to the west of th .Isolated MouIltain, as we came to call it ,and on rounding it another stretch ofplains came into view; really a continuation of the Huon Plains we were now on.The Huon River was curving its way ina semi-circle round the symmetricalScou's Peak, being joined by a branchstream from Lake Edgar, a little distanceto our left. A few more miles of stridingover the plains found us at one o'clockon the banks of a large stream flowingfrom behind the Frankland Range, whichwas now side on to us. Here, after abattle with the pouring rain, we succeeded in getting a fire going, an-Isteamed over it while the billy boiled.Leaving this stream (Pebbly Creek) afterlunch, a mile or 80 brought us to anotherlarge stream, and passed a very ruggedpyramidal mass, which we took to be Mt.Giblin, charted as the end peak. of theFrallkland Range. The mysterious recesses of the IOllg valleys running up intothe ramparts of the Franklands capturedour imagination, and we determined thatat some future date we should spend afew days in exploring this end of t4eFranklands in closer detail.

Pushing onwards across the Plains tothe southward, about four o'clock wecame to the beginning of a series of long,low, bare ridges, heyond which we couldsee the walls of the Arthur Range. MountAnne now lay to our north-east, abouttwelve miles distant, while south of it slong spurs stretched the bleak, bareridges of Mt. Weld. After a couple ofmiles of these low ridges, bare, withoccasional patches of button grass and afew quartzite outcrops, we got into anarrow belt of very dense scrub, wherethe track disappeared from beneath our


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THE TASMANIAN NATURALISTfeet, and for about half an hour we triedto pick it up again, but being unsuccessful we decided to pitch camp for thenight. Where we lost the track was anold peppermint gum, on whose face wasa carved inscription, "E. Harrison, January 14, '99," and below this was an olderone still, "E. Fletcher, January 23, 1883."After a long hunt for a level site to sleepon, we found and started to clear oneright on the track, only to be attackedand driven out by an army of leeches,and we had to retire to a position righton top of a bleak open flat, where thp.wind whistled through our fly all night,and we passed a wet and comfortlessnight. In the morning, while the twoothers cooked breakfast, I reconnoitredahead, and found the track where we hadlost it in the bad light last evening. Onsetting out this morning (December 29)the track became very badly defined,winding round many little hills andknobs, and diving down into gullieswhen we least expected it to. As we couldgain very little idea of where the tracklay, we saved time by spreading outlaterally till one man found the track,when we all converged 011 it. again. Frequently we were lured into thinking wesaw the track a few hundred yardsahead, only to find on reaching our objective that it ",as a quartzite outcrop.A minor consolation in this type of country was afforded by our being able to admire the very pretty clusters of hlandfordia relieving the drab monotony of thesparsdy dad landscape.

We had climbed a big button brass hillon a false scent, when we saw well toour halfleft a hut on a plain beyondanother big stream, about half a miledistant. After a spell we descended thehill, and made a bee .line for the hut,which we reached at 10 a.m., having doneonly three miles this morning in threehours 20 minutes. Once on our wayacross these hills a iparty of blackcockatoo flew screaming toward us, andperched on a dry gum not twenty yardsaway, and gave us the opportunity of admiring their black and gold wings.The Arthur Hut lies at an altitude of700 feet on the Arthur Plains, about halfa mile from the foothills of the fantastic,multipeaked Arthur Range, which fromhere stretch southeastward for over 20miles. This Range is composed ofArchean rocks, single huge boulders

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being scattered both about the plains andon the slopes and summits of the Range.Vertical slate outcrops ocour along thefoothills and on the track, but quartzitepredominates. We counted thirteengorges hacked in the face of the Arthur.in .about four miles. The day was foggy,and we could not judge whether thehighest peaks were accessible.

The Arthur Hut was in fairly goodcondition, well roofed with pine, but theehimney has been burnt out, and thedoor had disappeared, probably for f i r ~ .wood, which was not too plentiful. Aboutfifty or sixty names adorned the walls ofthe hut, mostly of old prospectors, datingback as fa r as the nineties. Empty tinsand a large quantity of gelignite packetswere scattered about the floor of the hut.

A notice board outside the hut proclaims as follows :-"Distances fromCordon Junction-14 miles from Tyenna-N o. 1 hut, t mile, No. 2 26! miles, PortDavey 55! miles." It should be explainedthat the Junction is reallv 14 miles fromFarrow's, late Rumney's, which was thepoint where the mileage commenced.This farm is 4} miles from FitzgeraltlStation, so that this Arthur Hut is about45 miles from Fitzgerald. The No. 1 hutreferred to has now collapsed, but the 12Miles Hut on the South Cordon track,built in 1920, is much more convenientlysituated, as it can be reached by goodwalking from Fitzgerald in seven hours.From the Arthur Hut a track from Huonville junctions with the Port Davey track,and traverses the Arthur Plains; it waswell defined where it left the hut.

When we left the hut we traversed the.foothills of the Arthurs westwards alonga quartzite strewn track, but after abouta mile we again lost time by getting ~ n t oa thick tangle of bauera and teatree, illwhich the track was obliterated. Afterwe found the track beyond this beIt westopped for lunch beside a small creek,disgusted with only 4! miles for our day'sbattling. Amid light showers we continued along the Arthur Plains, andcrossed a bntton grass buttress of the;mountains with frequent outcrops ofpink and white quartz. Along this partof the track we came across a perfectlymade grindstone about 2 feet in diameterand 3t inches thick. We gradually roseon the Huon.Crossing Divide to 1000feet, passing on our way a little wooden


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THE: TASMANtAN NATURALIST~ - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -cross beneath a trickling waterfall. Wesurmised that some unfortunate had beenlaid to rest here, and the utter lonelinessof the windswept places helped us torealise our isolation in a vast and lifelesswilderness. Near the end of the longserrated wall of the Arthurs we encountered a peculiarly shaped rocky eminence,a realistic image carved by Nature of anold, old man, with head, shoulders andbreast, looking into the eternal silenceof the West.

About four o'clock we came to theCrossing River, its banks - guarded byformidable walls of bauera, which completely covered the track. Heaving ourpacks off, we hurled our bodies againstthe bauera and rolled about till . wetunnelled an approach to the stream. Returning for our packs. we again shovedour way through about 100 yards of thismatted wall of vegetation, and wadedknee deep through the stream to battlethrough another twenty yards of baueraon the other bank.

A ~ we had taken I t hours to get clearof the Crossing River, We proceeded onlyabout half a mile further, through yetanother hauera.fringed stream, beforepitching camp for the night on a stonybank, facing a timberclad, rocky unnamed mountain next the Arthurs. Wehad come less than nine miles this day,being continually in difficulties.Next morning we arose prepared for abig day, and moved off, walking till halfpast nine, when we halted to take photosand sketches of the new panorama. Wewere now heading south.west, and a vistaof unnamed mountains lay around us.The Crossing River flowed south on OUtright, and disappeared through a gorgebetween two mountains, a high plateauending in a sugar.loaf to the north, witha long razor back quartzite mountain forits southern wall. East of 1: 8 lay the manydomed mountain under whose north sidewe had camped. This rocky masli we referred to as the Multidome, to distinguish

it from its southern neighhour, SingleDome, which, though. not very high, presents a very picturesque aspect with itsglistening white rocks and regular steepsides.Pushing on into the unknown, weclimbed a ridge on the shoulder of theQuartzite Razorback, and after a couplcof hours passed over the Crossing

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Spring Divide, halting for dinner on thefirst big creek flowing into the SpringRiver, which rose somewhere in thevicinity of Single Dome. After dinnerwe lengthened our stride over somestretches of good track till we reachedthe top of another divide, where theaneroid registered 650 feet above sealevel. This divide marked a sharp difference in the vegetation.

In the northern portion of the SpringValley were fairly frequent patches oftimber, both along the river course andextending up the lower slopes of themountains, hut to the south the landscapewas devoid of trees, presenting a hareand desolate aspect as far as the eyecould see, only a jumble of barren littlehills in endless succession, walled in hylong ranges of mournful mountains oneither side, while the Spring Rivertwisted its narrow way through a rockygorge helow us.

The track was good for a couple ofmiles along the south ridge of the divide,hut eventually the route baffled us afterwe reached an old prospect camp near alarge stream, the track petering out fromheneath our feet. Eventually one of uspicked up the track again ahout a quarter of a mile to the eastward, but fromhere on we were continually in trouhle,the track showing up hut rarely, all theguide stakes having vanished. Afterdoing 15 miles for the day, we campednear a trickle of water on a desolateopen ridge which, after a cheerless nightof rain and howling wind, Hedley Keoghduhhed Cyclone Flat.

We awoke at 4 a.m., and ate a handfulof ships' biscuits as we sat huddled up inthe blankets. Though the wind haddropped, 4eavy showers were still faIling.As we had seen a peg with three nicks init yesterday about half a mile hack, wethought perhaps we were within threemiles of Port Davey, with perhaps a hutat our journey's end. Acting under thissad delusion we decided to have breakfast on arrival at Port Davey, so we setout at 5.30 a.m., cold hut determined toput in a good finish. However, moretrouble lay in store for us, numerouscreeks had to be crossed, every one ofthem guarded hy formidahle stretches ofbauera, which hampered us considerably,so as we felt weak we gladly halted at 9o'clock fo r breakfast. Pushing on again


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THE TASMANIAN NATURALISTafter ten we made war on the bauera forfour more hour8, topping many littlehills, expecting to see Port Davey fromeach in turn, but it was after two o'clockwhen we rounded a bare hillside and sawa sheet of water before UB. By 2.30 wehad come opposite the inlet where theSpring River entel'S the Port, and here wethankfully dropped our swags and sankto the ground. After a spell two of theparty prepared dinner, while the thirdreconnoitred ahead to look for any signsof a hut, '.but the condition of the tI'ackwas so bad with bauera that after crawling on hands and knees we thereaftergave it a wide berth, and kept to the openhill tops.

Port Davey itself presented a very pieturesque sight. It s shores were heavilywooded for ahout thirty yards, numerousislets dotted the water expanse, andseveral graceful black swan swam atleisure on the calm waters of a little bay.On the east side of the Spring Estuaryrose a long rocky wall, culminating in , Iwhite peak (Mount Rugby), to the southof which a narrow inlet leads to the landlocked Bathurst Harbour.The view was so good that we decidedto climb Mount Berry the following dayhefore attempting the return journey.The trip from Fitzgerald had occupiedjust six days. Early on New Year's morning, 1925, the party struck out for MountBerry with aneroid, map, compass andcamera. Crossing the foothills we climbeda cliff face to the north of a scrubbygorge separating us from a round, steep,bare eminence. Once above the cliffs wchad good going on button grass, passingabove the round spur at 1200 feet until.we came to the top of another rocky ridgeat 1840 feet.The mountain side was dotted withpurple spider orchids and some blandfordia. Our camera man got busyhere, while I decided to climb the summit, another 200 feet, for the purpose oftaking some compass bearings from thehighest point. It proved to be n mass ofhuge conglomerate boulders, between

which grew thick pockets of scrub. Theseboulders had crevasses between themvarying in depth 'from 10 to 40 feet, andit was very difficnlt to advance from onerock to another. At times i t was impos.sible to go over the top of the rocks, andI was forced to go underneath them(S)

wherever I could find room for my body.Eventually I crawled up into daylightonce more, abreast of the highest rockon the mountaiu, and sat on a flat rockwith my compass and notebook. By theaneroid the height of Mt. Berry registered2055 feet, as compared with the trig.height mapped as 2132 feet.

It was a dull day with a very short seahorizon. However, I could see Cox Bight,while the course of the Davey Rivershowed up well to the westward and. northwest. Inland were a jumble of unknown ranges to the north and northwest, while to the northeastern horizonwas dominated by the long wall of theArthurs. The Multidome stood out wellto the northward, while far to the eastwas discernible one of Hartz summits.Picton was hidden behind a high cragto.wering out of the Arthurs. Owing toa sudden fog coming up from the southfurther observations were impossible, soI was forced to descend. Through thedense fog I had to feel my way foot byfoot fo r forty minutes till safe groIlndwas reached once more, after a piece ofbauera for once befriended me by savingme a 20ft. fall down an unseen crevasse.Glad to leave Mt. Berry behind me, Isteered back to eamp, where the othertwo had returned and boiled the billy.We decided to go back as quickly aspossible, as our food would only last fivemore days, but on the return journey wehad several advantages, lighter swags, aknowledge of the track, and the satisfa("tion of having reached our objective.Leaving Port Davey (Long Bay) at 2.30p.m. on New Year's Day, we returned to

our Cyclone Flat Camp by 8 that evening, in fairly fine weather. 'On January 2 we set off at a good pacein continuous rain once more, and we put10 more miles behind us before haltingfor lunch near the headwaters of S p r i n ~River. Firewood in all this Spring atHjCrossing River country was very scarce,and on this occasion it was It hours before our fire defied the pouring rain.Pushing on again at 2 o'clock we strodeout till the Crossing River was reached,and we found to our joy that it had 10tyet risen with the day's rainfall. iAfter a spell we waded the river, a .dpUBhing through the bauera once m ~ r ewe struck out for 'tlIe Arthur Hut, overfive miles distant. About halfwar alol115


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T l I ~ TASMANIANthe Arthur foothills we saw a rainbowarched over' the two ends of one of theunnamed mountains, making a beautifulscene. The rainbow seemed to us to bconly a couple of hundred yards away.When we finally reached the Arthur HutatB o'clock, having been for thirteenhours on the track, we appreciated thereward of our 20 miles walk in the formof a night's good shelter in this land ofeternal rain.

Next moming we slept in at late as 6,'and did not get under way till 9, as wespent a while enjoying the close view ofthe Arthurs, and taking photos. Thenext three miles took us almost as longgoing back as coming down, to our surprise, as even now we could not keep thetrack. Passing the scene of our misery atWindy Ridge Camp, we emerged on tothe Huon Plains, where we found thestream flowing from Mt. Giblin (calledby us Flooded Creek), previously kneedeep, but now neck deep after rain.After an hour's search for a crossing wediscovered three gum saplings growingtogether in mid stream, and a wall ofbauera on our bank. Making a platformof bauera toward the gums, we sprang tothe first sapling, then twisted our way.clung to the others in turn, and hauledourselves and our gear to the other side.

Crossing the wet, soggy Huon Plains,we passed over the Huon Log by moonlight, reaching our Mt. Anne Camp at 9o'clock in the rain. An uncomfortablenight was passed . here amid icy blastshlowing on us from the mountain tops,and we were very tired next day as wcwalked the Plains. On these Plains westopped to gaze at a bill wedgetailedeagle swooping about the ramparts ofMt. Anne at a great height.

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N A TURALIS'! 'Passing through the saddle of Boweson Sunday afternoon, we came to theJunction at 5.30 p.m., whence a coupbmore miles brought us to the 12 milesHut on the slopes of Mt. Mueller, where

we turned in and made ourselves cornfortable.The last day, January 5, we rose at halfpast three, breakfasted, and pushed offby half.past five, and walked 16 milesinto Fitzgerald, catching the Hobarttrain with only a few minutes to spare.We had returned from Port Davey to .Fitzgerald in 96 hours, of which 43 wereactual walking time, and we had 20hours' sleep.The soil throughout the route is verypoor, after Bowes only two small beds oftimber are passed through-one justover the Huon Crossing and the other asmall bed 2 3 ~ miles from the Junction.The landscape after leaving the ArthurHut is bleak and mournful; trees arescarce except those fringing the Crossingand Spring Rivers, and the country's onerich promise appears to li e in it s hiddenmineral wealth. We noticed the absence

of small birds, except at Port Davey onlya few cockatoo, jays and parrots, an oddhawk and two eagles being sighted. Onlythree kangaroo and a couple of badgerwerc seen, while flower life was represented by blandfordia, waratah, laurel,and bauera flowers, and at Port Davey afair quantity. of purple spider orchids.Although this region is an inhospitable wilderness, yet this SouthWesterneorner of Tasmania has a fascination and

charm peeuliarly its own, and to all thosebush lovers who have yielded once to iblure, a still small voice is ever whispering, and the Spirit beckons back insistently to those with the Wanderlust againto the Great SouthWest.

tasnat 1926 vol1 no5 pp1-6 livingstone excursionportdavey

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