Grey is good

We have barely seen the sun in our short week here at Boat Harbour, but not only is the rain very welcome (especially down there in SE Tasmania), but the overcast skies and very clear air give a lovely light.

Sisters Creek, where it reaches the beach

This afternoon we walked the eastern half of Sisters Beach, just round the corner from BH, forcing our way through the immense crowds of people (ooh, maybe five all up?) and enjoying the views and the birds.

Rocky Cape from Sisters Beach

East end of Sisters Beach

Rocks and pools, Sisters Beach

Sisters has a very different character to Boat Harbour: more extensive, more houses, not as cosy, nor as pretty, but it's still a good place for a walk on the beach, even on a grey day. Our usual walk is up the beach and then back along the unsealed road that runs behind the beach. That way we get the sea birds for half the walk and the bush birds for the other half.

Yesterday we had a brief visit from a fierce-looking Brown Goshawk in the garden, and this afternoon we saw another (or could it have been the same bird?) dashing along the edge of the scrub at the top of the beach, hoping to surprise some unlucky honeyeater.

Far east end of Sisters Beach

The track back

When we got back to Boat Harbour the light was still grey on grey, so I took a pic of Table Cape through the telescope. Always reminds me faintly of the Parson & Clerk rock between Dawlish and Teignmouth, for those who know South Devon.

Table Cape from Boat Harbour

Now it has got chilly again, so the fire has been lit and Jean has just put a casserole of beef in red wine in the oven. Another tough evening ahead.

More storm: Inglis River

One of our favourite afternoon walks is the 6 km or so up and down the Inglis River estuary at Wynyard. Tramping round there the other day showed more evidence of the violence of the storm a few weeks ago.


The track had evidently been closed for a while since it would have taken some time to saw up all the trees that had fallen across the path.


It was striking how many trees were simply blown over, but actually snapped off halfway up. That may suggest a sudden violent gust rather than a prolonged blow. Anyway, there were many of them.


PS This may be an LBU (Least Bloggable Unit), but I have to keep up my quota.

Back at the shack

Jo says I must post at least two blogs while we're here at Boat Harbour for a week. So this is the first. We haven't been here for some months, so I need to show you what happens when you stay away that long.

The grass grows long.


Ants invade the kitchen.


New shacks pop up like mushrooms.


A row of new poles appears along the top of the beach.


And gales of wind (a mini-tornado, we hear) wreak havoc around the place. Our BBQ, left on the deck in the hope that someone would steal it, was blown over, despite heavy steel plates and a boulder on top to keep the lid on. Good thing it didn't blow through the glass doors.


But our problems were miniscule compared to what happened to the desirable (in situation, anyway) End Shack.


I guess that's the price you pay for having the most exposed site in the whole place.

Quite a few trees felt the force of the storm as well, though the damage was very localised, supporting the idea of a small twister.


But even on the third day of winter it's still lovely to arrive here and find the place warm and snug. With the fire on downstairs, and the gaps in the bathroom louvre windows blocked with newspaper, it is very cosy. Just right for our books and the crossword.

It's starting to get gloomy even now at 3.30, and we've already had our walk around the beach (18 bird species, despite the gale). Soon it will be time to stoke up the fire, make something hearty for dinner and open a bottle of good Australian shiraz.

Wish you were here.