Category Archives: Walking

What if the water leaving St Clair Lagoon Dam was not the source of the Derwent?

Different people hold views about the start and finish of places and the same is true for the Derwent River. So, just in case, someone should say to me that the River’s source is at the weir where water flows from the Derwent Basin into St Clair Lagoon, or the source is where the water flows from the body of Lake St Clair into the Derwent Basin, I walked to both other locations to be sure I had arrived at ‘the source’.

From St Clair Lagoon Dam I returned to the Pumphouse Point road and continued towards Lake St Clair and the Hotel. Trees flanked the walk.

And I passed unwalkable wetlands.

Suddenly one corner of spectacular Lake St Clair stretched before me, and I could see the outlier of the Pumphouse Point Hotel sitting crisply on the Lake, roughly marking the entrance of water to the Derwent Basin.

As I walked towards the Point I fell in love with Mount Olympus standing high in all its grandeur. Zeus would be pleased.

Gradually I closed in on the Point so that the white box appeared as a building.

The entrance to the Hotel seemed barred to me.

However to the right of the entrance a sign indicated a walking track would take me to the Weir at the southern end of the Derwent Basin.

Again, anglers have been remembered.

St Clair Lagoon

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Tranquillity. Restfulness. Serenity. Untroubled. Vital. Fresh. Clarity. Brilliance. Intense. These words came to mind as I looked over St Clair Lagoon.

The selection of photos below swing from the Dam wall and walkway on the right of my view around to the left across the Lagoon and its central island.

I loved seeing the tops of hills and mountains, including Mount Olympus, appearing in the distance.

I hope you enjoy these photos – perhaps one of them will become the background on your computer.

The White Lip or Whip Snake – more information

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A couple of days ago a photo news story about a Tasmanian whitelip snake was published.

Immediately I recognised the snake in the photo as looking the same as the two I have seen on my walks and which I have discussed in a couple of recent posts. Now I don’t care if guidelines indicate my snakes were longer than the normal range and nor do I care that some people swear what I saw could not be a White Lip – I feel convinced about the identity as a White Lip. Next time I come across one in the wilds I will look for the white lip – but I am not hoping to see another. This and the other two Tasmanian snakes are all venomous.

On the theme of snakes, while making a quick trip inland to walk a small ‘gap’along the Derwent during this past week, I saw hanging dead over a rural gate the largest fattest going on for two metres long black (which I assume was a Tiger) snake that I have ever seen. Someone obviously thought this would amuse passers-by. I decided not to photograph and publish the snake because I thought the image might frighten my friends and relatives who always worry for me when I am in the bush. I have never seen such a large snake in the Tasmanian wilds (although I have been up close and almost too personal with deadly King Brown snakes in the Northern Territory in northern Australia).

St Clair Lagoon signage

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Interpretive signage work needs to be introduced, and current signs rationalised; at least made consistent. Within metres of each other stood the two signs below:

The third sign focuses on the needs of anglers but not on general tourists.

One on-site map helps people get their bearings. However, I guess because the water level is generally low, the island close to the St Clair Lagoon Dam which appeared before me as an extensive well-established vegetated outcrop, cannot be seen on the map below. As a result, visitors may feel disoriented.

Four signs exist at St Clair Lagoon. I am disappointed the Derwent River as a whole and the fact this is the River’s source isn’t recognised and celebrated. The St Clair Lagoon area seems only to anticipate visitation from fishermen who do not have permission to fish here. A short gravel road detours to the Lagoon Dam from the main gravel road that leads to Pumphouse Point, but no signs have been installed to let people know what they will find if they take the detour, nor the significance of the St Clair Lagoon dam for the Derwent River.

A 215 km river is not a small or insignificant waterway. The Derwent River, as Tasmania’s most iconic river, provides a major marker of thousands of years of social, economic and natural history. In the coming weeks, I plan to communicate with everyone who has influence over the writing and installation of signage and interpretation.

Glistening waters and the final push to the source of the Derwent River

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I watched the Derwent River scampering along playfully. Youthful. The source was nearby.

Enjoy the sound of the rushing waters in my short video near the River’s source.

I walked northwards towards the St Clair Lagoon dam, and the first of the Derwent River waters flowing beneath the baffles, showed themselves.

This was the time for a selfie and, as usual, it was grossly unflattering – but the moment called for it. I had reached the source of the Derwent River.

This striking moment, as are all moments, was impossible to grasp.

While I tried to absorb and ingest the atmosphere of the place with all its aboriginal and non-aboriginal histories, my mind was so muddled I forgot to breathe. Then I felt compelled to take deep and long breaths but was too excited to inhale more than a couple of shallow breaths. I felt I should stop, stand or sit and never leave yet at the same time I felt I must move on. I wasn’t sure what to look at nor what to think about. That the natural environment was powerfully enduring despite man’s intervention, reminded me I was like a small scratch on the surface of this land.

Yes – I had arrived at my destination. Finally.

I was amazed that walking the Derwent was possible, not for all people, but definitely possible. That what I had commenced as a whimsical and unresearched idea, had been realised as an epic adventure. One step at a time.

Of course, I remembered sections of the River had yet to be walked but they were few and I sensed that if I didn’t worry, then each would be achievable in the coming days. I could see it was much more satisfying to enjoy the present and not to plan the future. Only then did I feel like I was blossoming with the profound pleasure of the cool morning, the clean air, the colourful and complex natural environment,and my arrival at the Derwent River’s source. This was one of the most significant moments in my life.

The road to Pumphouse Point

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I turned right onto the road to Pumphouse Point rather than continuing on to Cynthia Bay, the main settlement at the southern end of Lake St Clair.

The discrete sign to the hotel allowed the environment to dominate.

I followed the quiet gravel road northwards.

In taking this road it is important to realise you have entered a national park, and that you need to pay for the privilege.

Before long I passed by a sewage treatment works, although one without a name or identification. A delicate odour gave notice. I think that now I have walked passed every treatment works on the Derwent River – I am not sure if medals are given out for that sort of achievement.

Then the bush was my only companion with the Derwent River seemingly running through the trees.

Along the route, tracks of various qualities diverged to the River every few metres or so.

The winding River

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Between the Lyell Highway and the source of the Derwent River the River winds back on itself time and time again.

Sometimes a mesh of dense bush separated me from the Derwent River, and at other times I could dip my hands into the water. The opportunities to get a good look were variable, but in the early morning sun, all views were richly rewarding.

Starting out for the source of the Derwent River

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I turned north and walked off the Lyell Highway along the road leading to Lake St Clair and other locations including the source of the Derwent River. As I walked beside the River, I revelled in the colours of that pure water, and in the mystery of its twists and turns.

The water clarity was such that I could see the bottom of the River easily.

I passed an area designed for helicopters to land. There were none waiting, but I heard and saw many flying around every day giving tourists a bird’s eye views of the terrain.

I loved the sign alerting drivers to be aware of walkers. The one below amused me because it was placed about 1 or 2 kms from the Lyell Highway and it occurred to me that if walkers were on the road after the sign then they had to be on the road before the sign as well. Like me.

Then there was one of my favourite tall-story telling signs.

This sign suggests our Tasmanian Kangaroos are larger and stronger than a car. While mainland Australia has some giant sized ‘roos, our Tasmanians grow to a more modest size. However, in any collision, while our kangaroos won’t pick up a car, the power of the contact as they jump into the car’s path can send a car careering off the road perhaps towards a tree, or severely dent it, and personal injuries may result. That is, both our kangaroos and our wallabies can unexpectedly cause major vehicle accidents. By the way, our wildlife do not know what we write on signs. When a sign alerts motorists to be aware between dusk and dawn, they may be forgiven if surprised by an animal running or hopping on the road at other times of day. Motorists must expect a rare occasion when a ‘Jonathan Living Seagull’, a maverick, an animal demonstrating great independence will suddenly appear.

On a more pleasant note and through my walk, the early morning birdsong was a delight. Listen to their crystal clear sounds on this video.

The Derwent River at Derwent Bridge

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Having enjoyed showers, easy cups of tea and a comfortable bed, I woke early and was walking before 7am. It was cool so I wore a hat and jacket. I noted the evidence of cold winters when snow lies on the ground and sometimes blocks the highway.

If you want to buy land in Derwent Bridge, a package of 3 lots is for sale.

Signage on the Lyell Highway is clear.

In the early light of day, the Derwent River glowed. The water was warmer than the air temperature causing a draft of steamy fog to float above the water.

Derwent Bridge

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Located 174 kms west of Hobart on the Lyell Highway, the town of Derwent Bridge extends about a kilometre from one end to the other and contains a scattering of private houses and a handful of small businesses. This tiny township takes its name from the bridge in its midst which crosses the Derwent River. Lake St Clair sits to the north and Lake King William to the south.

I love writing Trip Advisor reviews (as Crocodillus) and after returning to Hobart from Derwent Bridge I wrote four: my accommodation at the Derwent Bridge Cabins, the food experience I enjoyed at Hungry Wombat Café , the Derwent Bridge Hotel, and the Wall in the Wilderness . A description of these is not particularly relevant to this blog so, if you are interested, I have provided the links to my reviews with a few photographs. I am happy to answer any email enquiries if you are considering visiting Derwent Bridge.

I stayed in Derwent Bridge for two nights (buses to Hobart do not travel every day) and every chat, communication, look that I experienced with another person was full of positive energy, good will, happiness, and this made the time pass so easily. It did not matter whether I was connecting with the Cabin owner or her cleaner, the bar and meal staff at the Hotel, the wait staff at the café, or the owner and others at the Wall in the Wilderness, everyone was upbeat and the services the businesses provided were excellent.

In addition, I met many interstate and overseas travellers, almost all of them walkers who had been journeying either on the Overland Track from Cradle Mountain to Lake St Clair, or had been walking some of the day or longer walks in the vicinity of Lake St Clair. The effect of continuing kind weather on walkers, the fact that their walks had introduced them to environments which they found profoundly beautiful, and their plans for future walks and discoveries were the catalyst for everyone to buzz with vitality. Infectious.

Update – identifying snakes

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Recently I published the post Snakes Alive.

Today I have been informed that the snakes I saw in recent walks would not be the White Lipped Snake or Whip Snake because the size of the snakes I saw is too large; rather those I saw are likely to be juvenile Tiger or Brown snakes. I cannot find any information or photographs showing or describing an immature snake that matches what I have seen. Are there any blog followers who know their Tasmanian snakes? If so, I welcome feedback.

Showing me the way to go

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Through the bush near the town ship of Derwent Bridge, many tracks criss-cross the landscape and I can see that some might get lost – and the maps do not show all tracks. However, no walker should have a problem if s/he remembers that going downhill will either bring him or her out onto the Derwent River or onto the Lyell Highway.

Nevertheless, when I came across a series of stones arranged into an arrow pointing along one track, I chose to believe it was the best track to take.

Of course it was a risk to trust the arrow, because the stones could have been arranged for other purposes rather than to get someone to the town of Derwent Bridge by the shortest route. I was pleased that sometime later, the Lyell Highway was in front of me albeit with a padlocked gate between us. When I walked onto the road and looked back, this is what I saw.

That was the first and only sign between Clark Dam and the southern end of Lake King William and this gate that indicated I was walking on private land which I should not be on. Too late! I have arrived.

The Derwent River was not far away. It is located between the gate and the Derwent Bridge Hotel 250 metres westwards.

I was elated because I arrived in Derwent Bridge a day earlier than I expected. A lovely surprise.

The marks of man

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Lake King William, the electricity transmission lines and their towers, the cleared but regrowing areas surrounding them, and the nearby 4WD vehicle tracks changed the landscape from its original form and I spotted other signs of non-aboriginal intervention in the bush.

As I was closing in on civilisation again, while nearing the town ship of Derwent Bridge, I noticed a felled log beside the track with saw marks. What struck me as strange was the way more than one straight length of timber had been sawn from within the tree trunk.

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Not a letterbox

When walking through the bush from time to time you see tree stumps with a horizontal man-made slit. These were not letter boxes for use by the old European settlers. Rather they were part of the process to fell huge ancient trees. Where I was walking, the trees would have been felled to clear a path for the electrical transmission power lines and the 4WD track.

These notches were made in the days when strong men wielded axes with accuracy and extraordinary bush knowledge. This was before chain saws: the massive girth of many trees would have rendered such equipment useless. In addition, such tree clearings were in an area too remote for massive machinery to access, even if it had existed.

At its simplest, the process can be described as: first the axeman cuts a small slit in the tree trunk then jams a board into the gap. He (and I have never heard of a woman doing this) jumps up onto that board. Then he creates a new slit higher up the tree, grabs a second board and jams that into the new slit. He jumps up onto the second board and releases the first board, rests it across the one on which he stands, and then he cuts another slit higher up. The process is repeated until he is sufficiently high to start cutting a 45 degree notch which will help the tree fall in a certain direction. After a while, the axeman descends and repeats the process up the same tree from another angle, then continues on cutting the notch until the top part of the tree sends signs that it will fall. At this point, in order to stay alive, he jumps down the tree as quickly as he can and moves a distance away being careful not to be struck by any other vegetation or tree than is inadvertently brought down at an unexpected angle.

From this practice has grown the international sport of wood chopping which includes a competition on tree felling. The image below from the Queensland Archive shows how this looks in the sporting arena.

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Did you know the first wood chopping competitions were held on the north-west coast of Tasmania (not far from where I was born)? These days the competitions have become an international event. To see how it all works in practice, at least in competitions, I suggest you have a look at a local competition in Canada on You Tube

Snakes alive

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In recent walks (Nearing Derwent Bridge from Lake King William, and between the Florentine River and Wayatinah), I have been surprised to see two examples of one of Tasmania’s venomous snakes the White Lipped Snake, also known as the Whip Snake. What I saw was a delicate slender olive greenish brown snake with soft looking velvety skin. You can refer to the Department of Primary Industries, Parks, Water and Environment’s site for more information.

The first snake was close to a metre in length and calmly meandered across the stony track, about a metre in front of me, as I descended towards the town of Derwent Bridge. The second snake was just under half a metre in length and was lying on the gravel road in the greenish shade – something made me look down and I realised I was only a couple of steps from standing on it. Naturally I stopped, apologised for my intrusion, stepped away to the other side of the road, and the snake in its own good time, calmly and slowly slid off into the bush away from me.

The length of my snakes is greater than that which the above government website suggests for the standard length. Mine were very slim but long.

These experiences have now made me doubt a ‘fact’ which I had always believed. The ‘fact’ is that snakes feel the vibration through the ground of something coming towards them and then disappear because they are fundamentally shy and do not seek confrontation. The website listed above suggests the Whip Snake is shy but my experience is at odds with their information.

A chat with another walker recently reminded me that wearing gaiters is a protection against snake bite on the lower legs. I had forgotten that important use – I was only thinking of wearing them in muddy conditions. If you don’t know what they look like, then the Paddy Palin website, for example, show a range of gaiter styles.

What goes up goes down

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In any landscape, every hill has its ups and downs. Having crested the hill separating me away from Lake King William but with the Derwent River on my left as I walked northwards, I was astonished that I could see Lake St Clair. There, as a bright white beacon on the water surface, was the Pumphouse Point Hotel. You will need to enlarge the photo below to see the tiny white block in upper left centre. To its right a small portion of the Derwent Basin can be seen. The Derwent Basin empties into St Clair Lagoon, and where that Lagoon is dammed, the Derwent River starts its long run to the sea.

Of course the source was still a long way away, but I knew seeing this vista meant I was closing in on the point where the Derwent River started.

Then I started downhill on the sharp rocky track.

At the halfway down point, I photographed the view both up and down.

Before long I was walking with the River to my left and a dry forest beside me.

Walking the Derwent River

The ribbon that separates the eastern and western shores of Hobart, Tasmania's capital city

Category Archives: Walking

What if the water leaving St Clair Lagoon Dam was not the source of the Derwent?

St Clair Lagoon

The White Lip or Whip Snake – more information

St Clair Lagoon signage

Glistening waters and the final push to the source of the Derwent River

The road to Pumphouse Point

The winding River

Starting out for the source of the Derwent River

The Derwent River at Derwent Bridge

Derwent Bridge

Update – identifying snakes

Showing me the way to go

The marks of man

Snakes alive

What goes up goes down

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