Australia 1997

Wednesday 17 December — Melbourne to Healesville

There was a convenient train towards Healesville at 1035 so I headed for Flinders Street. Nothing delayed me en route (apart from a carton of milk for breakfast) so I had a bit of time to kill and was pleased to note that the pub across the road from the station was open, even at nine in the morning. This is Young & Jackson’s Hotel which, apparently, has a painting of Chloe, judged indecent in 1880, hanging in the upstairs bar, but I got no further than the public bar on the ground floor.

The train departed on time, reaching Lilydale at 1131 whence I continued on McKenzie’s bus via Yarra Glen and the Gulf Station (sheep not petrol) dating from the 1850s and now owned by the National Trust, arriving at Healesville at 1210. There was no accommodation to be had at the two hotels on the main street (too close to Christmas I was told) but I did get a good lunch of rissoles and onion gravy, washed down with a couple of beers. On my way to the Tourist Information Centre, I spotted the Terminus Hotel/Motel near the old station and booked in there for three nights.

Now, the reason for my visit to Healesville is the existence in one of Big Aunt Lena’s photograph albums of a number of pictures from this area, some showing the Maroondah Dam (part of Melbourne’s water supply system) under construction, others of a young couple in an orchard. So I went looking for the orchard starting with one shown on the map on Wallace Parade just to the east of the town. As I stood at the gate, a young lass came along with a horse and said I was welcome to have a look round but she had only rented the paddock since early this year and knew nothing of its history. The store just inside the gate didn’t look right but given the shape of Mt. Riddell in the distance, I’m sure it’s the same orchard. [see Friday]

I decided to leave the reservoir for the morrow and returned to the town where I did a little shopping and had a couple of beers before bed.

Thursday 18 December — Healesville

There was a serious tobacco shortage looming and I discovered that most shops had only aromatics but I was directed to the tobacconist who had a wider selection including Erinmore. I then walked most of the way up Mt. Riddell on Water Board tracks but the last bit of track vanished in impenetrable bush just short of the summit. I doubt if there would be much of a view from the top in any case, though there had been a couple of cleared lookouts on the way up, one out over the reservoir, the other with just a glimpse of the orchard.

On the way down, I managed to miss the “authorised access only” sign and took a shortcut across to the Grace Burn weir and out to the Maroondah Highway and along to the dam. I found the spot whence the dam construction photos were taken but the view from that spot is now entirely blocked by trees and bushes.

A few spots of rain diverted me to the park kiosk for an expensive cup of tea and a sandwich while hoping the rain would go off. It didn’t, but I decided that it was not heavy and walked back into town. King Dory (a fish) in avocado sauce for tea in the Terminus bistro (where a pot of beer was 20% more expensive than in the bar), very nice, then a few more pots in the bar to round off the evening.

Friday 19 December — Healesville

After yesterday’s exertions, I lay late in bed this morning before I meandered towards the Healesville Wildlife Sanctuary, spending some time in the Catholic part of the local cemetery but there was no sign of Dunne or McKenzie graves. The Wildlife Sanctuary proved more interesting than I expected, there was much to see including a flying display by a 2 year old barking owl called Boreen and a 3 year old wedge tailed eagle called Lupin. I had a nice bit of quiche and vegetables for lunch in the cafeteria. If I ever go again, I will allow a good half day rather than the couple of hours which I thought would be enough.

Back in town, I went looking for the Healesville and District Historical Society Inc. behind the library. They were very friendly but unable to provide any specific information to further my search. The orchard is the Graceburn Valley orchard, once part of the Graceburn Estate owned in the 1920’s and early 30’s by a chap called Vear. Our man may have been a manager - their names are not recorded. A cold store was opened in 1913 by the then Victorian Agriculture Minister at which time the orchard was producing 20,000 cases annually, mainly of apples and pears. (I doubt if there’s much fruit coming out nowadays, the place looked very neglected.) The store burned down in 1956 and was further into the orchard than the present building.

[Since I returned home, I have obtained information about the Melbourne Dunnes which leads me to believe that our man was Edmund Alphonse Dunne, son of Edward Dunne (Uncle Ned) and Mary Louisa Gobbi who married Dorothy (Dot) Vera Whelan, daughter of David Whelan and Esther Brown on September 5, 1925 in North Brunswick, Melbourne.]

In the evening, I pottered about a bit, had flake (fish) and chips for tea, I was not impressed even though I did get salt and vinegar on it - vinegar being very rare in Australian chip shops though you often get a bit of lemon instead.

Saturday 20 December — Healesville

Time for another walk but my early start was not as early as I had planned, it was half past eight before I left town and quarter past nine before I passed Donnelly’s Weir park and got off the tarmac. From there, the track was fairly good going, mostly forestry road or four wheel drive, climbing steadily. I took a break for twenty minutes beside a water tank, intended for fire fighting, not for drinking, unfortunately. It was just after 12 when I reached the top of Mt. St. Leonard (1027m). This is dominated by a couple of RT masts and a lookout tower which is necessary to get above the trees to see the view around, which is extensive.

After half an hour admiring the view, I continued north for about ten minutes to the public road, Monda Road - which sensible people use to visit the summit - and turned east and vaguely south back parallel to my outward route.. The road was quiet so it was quite a pleasant stroll through woodland. After a couple of hours, it was back onto forest road for a short distance in search of Condon’s Walking Track which would take me back to near the Maroondah Dam. Well, I found the start all right but had some difficulty following it after about 50 yards. I doubt if there is much traffic on that route, overgrown to the point of obscuring the waymarks, a fair amount of loose debris underfoot and lots of spiders’ webs across the track. The trouble with spiders in Australia is that a small number are venomous and I don’t know which ones, so every web has to treated with respect which fairly slowed down my passage.

It took nearly an hour and a half to cover about three kilometres, losing some 500 metres in height in the process. (Come to think of it, that’s about half a Munro, maybe not so slow after all.)

The rest of the day was straightforward. Follow the forest roads to the dam (with a short detour to inspect an aqueduct, not as impressive as Loch Katrine) where the kiosk was closed (I assume it closes at 4 p.m.). When I reached Healesville, I bought a litre of milk in the first shop I came to, followed by a milkshake in the next, then into the pub to re-hydrate. When I reached the motel, all I wanted was a shower, tea and bed.

Sunday 21 December — Healesville to Melbourne

It was time to return to Melbourne starting with Mr McKenzie’s bus at 0930 bus to catch the 1012 train from Lilydale, this time requiring an additional change at Ringwood (7 minutes) before arriving at Flinders Street at 1127. I decided to stay in the centre this time and booked in at the Eckford Hotel for two nights, opting for the cheapest dorm bed at $14 (I might not stay two nights) and finding myself in a very cramped room with about a dozen others. I spent the day just wandering around the town until the pubs opened at three after which I made a small pub crawl (not all pubs open on Sundays) before dining on roast duck on rice with stir fried vegetables in a Chinese restaurant.

Monday 22 December — Melbourne to ...

After a carton of milk on the hoof, I was down at the Tasmanian Travel office for eight o’clock to book passage to Tasmania, and after considering various trade-offs between date and cost, took the last available berth in “hostel” accommodation on the Spirit of Tasmania for this evening’s sailing. Just as well I was staying in cheap accommodation.

The next item on the agenda was the loose heels on my boots, both feet. Perhaps had I spent more than £30 on them, they might have lasted for more than six weeks of continuous wear. Anyhow, I had a look around various outdoor shops, of which there is a good selection in central Melbourne, before deciding on a heavier (and considerably more expensive at $130) pair as being more suited to Tasmanian conditions. I also bought a pair of waterproof trousers.

On the way back to the hotel, I bought a postpak to get rid of some of the accumulating souvenirs - just as well I hadn’t bought more this morning, I’ll buy the larger size next time. It cost $31 for 2.7 kilograms by sea mail - prices have fairly increased since 1988. Still, it was weight off my back and more room in the pack.

After a few beers for lunch, I set off to walk the five or so kilometres to Port Melbourne along a fairly major road through old suburbs but with nothing outstanding in the architecture. Since I arrived early, there was quite a bit of hanging about to do at the ferry terminal, watching this and that, smoking my pipe outside, even time for a beer before boarding at about quarter to seven.

The Spirit of Tasmania was built in 1986 in Bremerhaven, Germany and bought by the Tasmanian Transport Commission in 1993 to replace the Abel Tasman. She weighs in at 31,350 gross tons, 161.5 metres in length, 27.6 metres wide and has ten decks. There are berths for 1294 passengers in 467 cabins and can carry up to 550 cars.

I found my way to the “bunkhouse” in the bowels of the ship (K-deck) near the bow which could prove noisy if there is much of a sea running (and judging by the wind, there might be). Segregated dorms with wash hand basins for male and female travellers, with individual toilet and shower cubicles accessible to both.

I made a quick tour around the public areas of the ship; the Purser’s office (and Promenade Restaurant) are on E-deck, Piano Bar on D, real bar on C with short open decks on either side offering access to the open deck on B which extends round the stern where there were stairs down to C, D and E. Nowhere afforded a view forward. We sailed on time at eight leaving the black “Devil Cat” fast ferry at the pier.

My reservation was for the last sitting for dinner so I whiled away an hour or so with a couple of beers in the bar before proceeding to the Promenade Restaurant at half past nine as indicated on my ticket. I had barely started on my main course (most of the food could have been warmer) when they announced that the buffet would close in twenty minutes. I ate faster but by the time I collected a sweet, tea and coffee were already off. So I returned to the bar for a post-prandial refreshment of a couple more pots of James Boag’s Premium Ale. The ship began to move a little when we cleared the heads from Port Phillip Bay, but that caused no inconvenience and I retired about eleven.

Tuesday 23 December — ... Devonport, Tasmania

I slept well despite a slight roll in the early part of the night, the ship was steady when I woke about quarter past six. I was deliberating whether to get up when, “bing, bong, Good Morning, it’s six thirty and breakfast is being served”. So I got up but when I found a fair queue for the showers and toilets, I made do with a quick rinse in the washbasin before dressing and using the facilities on an upper deck on my way to breakfast. I helped myself to Weetbix and two slices of toast - there was nothing hot and no fruit salad - with a couple of glasses of orange juice and several mugs of tea.

After breakfast, I went on deck to smoke my pipe and observe the approaching coast of Tasmania, not too easy when there is no forward view. There were grey skies behind us, a belt of blue just offshore then greyish skies inland. The mouth of the Mersey suddenly appeared in front of the ship and we were tied up in East Devonport (on the wrong side of the river) at 0905. However, I didn’t get down the gangway until 0920 and then had to queue up to be inspected by the “food-sniffer” dog. It didn’t detect my boiled sweets.

I phoned the Youth hostel, yes they had beds available but would be closed for the day before I could get there. However, I could leave my bag at the Backpacker’s Barn in the town during the day so I took the wee ferry (called ’Torquay’ or ’Foxy Lady’ depending on where you looked) across the Mersey (3 minutes, $1.50) to town. I found the Barn, basically a large outdoor shop with some accommodation upstairs, dumped my pack, bought a map of North West Tasmania, dived in to the adjoining cafe for tea and a slice of chocolate cake, then set off to explore.

I walked up the river bank and crossed Victoria Bridge then down the other side back to the ferry terminal, then east along a walking/cycling track signposted for a beach (but here was nothing there, not even sand) and back again. On my way back to Victoria Bridge, I checked out a couple of bars, which were reasonable but nothing special, before returning to the Barn to pick up my bag and head for the Youth Hostel about a mile up a hill behind the town.

The hostel was quiet - in fact it was some time before I could find the manager, and I booked in for two nights, 20 cents in the box for a shower, then strolled along to check out the Don River Railway. It should be operating tomorrow, Christmas Eve, if I’ve correctly interpreted the remarks about public holidays. Then I wandered back towards the town and found an open supermarket where I stocked up with food for the next couple of days, though I couldn’t find any Irish Stew.

Wednesday 24 December — Devonport

Once more to East Devonport, this time to hire a car. Rent-a-Bug is usually the cheapest and I ended up with an orange beetle (are they really meant to be so noisy?) for ten days at $40 per day, which I immediately took back to the hostel and dumped.

Off to the Don River Railway which utilises a short stretch of track from a one-time branch line up the Don River Valley. There is a good collection of carriages, wagons and locos at the station, including a fine Dubs from 1900. According to the stock list, there is another but I didn’t see it. The excursion train was hauled by the ubiquitous Drewry diesel (this one was No.2228 manufactured in 1947), about a ten minute run to Don Junction where the main line still carries the occasional freight as far as Burnie.

Mersey Bluff from the Parade

I raided the souvenir shop before setting off on a walking/cycling track which (roughly) parallels the river and railway up to Don Junction but then continues round Mersey Bluff and back in to Devonport. On the way I stopped at a small but well laid out and interesting Maritime Museum, well worth an hour’s visit. Back in town, I had a couple of beers, did a little shopping, soap, toothpaste and sunscreen (when I said I usually used Factor 8, the lady politely expressed surprise and sold me Factor 15), plus some dried fruit salad and nut kernels for emergency rations (including dried bananas which proved edible but only just). I managed to find a shop selling Erinmore and bought a tin in case of need.

On the way back to the hostel, I bought a pepper steak pie from a wayside takeaway, not bad at all. The next course at the hostel was tea, crispbread and cheese (not a lot of oatcakes out here). Following which, I had a pleasant conversation with Richard, originally from Edinburgh, a few years in Shetland, now teaching in Ohakune.