Balfour Track - Tassie Trip

Attendees

Peter - 100 series

Alan & Kath - 60 Series

Joe & Liz - Troopy

Howard & Colleen - Nissan

Terry & Joan - HiLux

Executive Summary

Wed - Overnight boat to Tasmania

Thu - Drive to Arthur River, setup camp

Fri - Drive on beach to Temma

Sat - Drive Balfour track

Sun - Drive on beach to Sandy Cape

Mon - Fishing at Arthur River

Tue - Return to Devonport, overnight boat to Melbourne

Imagine a cup of chocolate where the froth consists of thick creamy bubbles that hold their shape and explode as you place the teaspoon in your mouth, unlike the usual opaque off white stuff that collapses in a heap as you bring the teaspoon near the top of the mug. As you get to the middle of the mug the chocolate grips your taste buds like a good red wine as the smooth liquid slides effortlessly down your throat, unlike the usual thin stuff that's now getting colder and is more like drizzle on a wet weekend. As you reach the bottom of the mug the chocolate thickens and becomes stronger in flavour and texture, unlike the usual stuff where the bottom consists of watery milk and lumps. Better than sex? Almost but not quite. Welcome to the Anvers supreme chocolate experience.

This was breakfast after arriving in Tasmania on the Spirit of Tasmania. We disembarked about 7:00 and I had planned a slow drive to Burnie, finding a bakery to while away the time before the supermarkets opened at 9:00. Howard had come over a few days earlier, and Colleen had flown over to meet him on the Wednesday morning. The rest had all taken the boat, some in cabins others on Ocean View Recliners. We had met up in the bar and whilst perusing the various brochures Liz had taken charge and suggested the chocolate breakfast at Anvers, only 15 minutes from Devonport. The suggestion was not met with too many objections. Some had croissants with cheese, others croissants with jams, others button mushrooms and pesto. Most had the chocolate and a couple had coffee. An excellent start to the trip, and thoroughly recommended as a good start having travelled overnight on the boat for those who go over in future.

We headed towards Burnie to collect fruit, vegies, bread etc as Tasmania prohibits these types of things from being imported. On the way we stopped at the Lactos cheese factory to try out a number of different flavours of cheese. I think each variety was liked by at least one person, and disliked by at least one person - something for everyone. Personally I prefer the unadulterated cheeses, but love the soft blues. I needed to stop here on the way back to grab a load for the children, so a camembert and blue brie were my limit. By now Burnie was awake and the shops open, we visited the supermarket and most of us filled up with fuel. Howard & Coleen were in the area and the convoy of 5 headed towards Arthur River. A couple of hours later we arrived. Howard collected his caravan whilst the rest of us completed the paperwork for our off road permits ($0 for 14 days), and coughed up $20 per person per week for the camping permit. The Prickly Wattle Camp site was empty, but we had been warned that Monday was a public holiday in northern Tasmania, so it would get busy. Apparently northern Tasmanians drink Boags, whilst southern Tasmanians' drink Cascade - as if they don’t have enough issues being Tasmanians! The southern end seemed to offer some shade and protection from the wind, so we pitched camp there. The afternoon / early evening was spent collecting firewood from the beach where we had our first recovery. A motorcycle had broken down on the beach, and their mate had driven down to help them out, and managed to get bogged. Of course he had no idea and no recovery gear, so it was up to our group to help him out. Back at camp the chainsaw soon had a pile of wood that would last us almost the whole time we were there.

The Friday dawned and we decided to try the Balfour track. I checked the map and based in High Country experience (10km per hour) predicted that we should be at the Balfour township for a late lunch (40km or 4 hours away). We would however travel to the start of the track (about 25km from camp) by driving down the beach as much as possible. We started at 'The End Of The World', and headed south. Each time we reached a point on the beach where we could not get through due to rocks, or sea, we traversed back and found a track that would get us around the obstacle. This was virgin territory for all of us, and we really were 'off road', not just following some high country track. Tyre pressures were lowered (several times in some cases) and techniques for sand driving were relearned, taught and practised. Eventually we reached some really challenging sand at Pollys Cove. The power was sucked from the vehicles, tyre pressures were lowered even more. Vehicles got stuck, but through earlier experiences and backing the vehicle up 3 meters then gently rolling forward and back a few times to compact the sand, each and every vehicle managed to get the the next headland, were we paused, discussing if now was appropriate to carry on or turn back. We had clearly missed the lunch spot by a country mile. It was then we noticed an ATV travelling down Pollys Cove in our direction. This should be interesting we commented and watched with interest. It soon became apparent that the ATV was having problems, then yes they got bogged. After a while it became clear they they were going nowhere. The driver started walking towards us. I'm thinking that I'm not happy about the idea of going back on this soft sand to recover them as it was some distance and had been a struggle to get to where we were. The driver turned our to be Marie, a slight lady with a bad back unable to lift the ATV out of it's hole. She asked to borrow our radio to contact her husband who would come and pull her out. Rod and Mick turned up, recovered the ATV and headed down to us and Marie. It turned out that they were from the Braddon 4WD club based in Burnie (http://www.braddon4wd.asn.au/), but camped on the other side of the hill for the long weekend. We discusses our options with the locals, and decided that we had been through the worst and we would carry on for a while. I was impressed that all 5 of our vehicles had managed to traverse the hardest section of sand, something not achieved by an ATV with experience and local knowledge!! Well done team. Mean time Terry discovered that maybe he had let a little too much air our of his tyres. The pumps were attached but air continued to hiss out of the broken bead. We got the high lift out and jacked up the car. In taking the weight off the tyre the bead was able to seal and we pumped air into the tyre. Off to the next challenge. I suggested that the others waited until I had got through, right at the end the vehicle was struggling and the back end creeping towards the water - here we go I was thinking, but somehow managed to find purchase and got through to the rocks and firm ground. Terry however had managed to roll the tyre. There must have been some dirt in the bead when it resealed that had caused the tyre to pop off on the next corner. The tyre was changed and the group continued to Stinky Beach, about 1km short of Temma. Here we turned off the beach onto a track and then the main route back to camp. All up we had been away over 5 hours, and travelled about 28km on the ground, but most odometers showing about 32km!! Terry and some others headed to Smithton to get the tyre fixed and grab some fuel.

In the mean time Rod & Marie turned up at camp and invited us to join them on a trip to Sandy Cape on the Sunday. I'd had a looked at the map, and for 12km all around Sandy Cape there was not a single track or road marked. It had been an idea, but I had no idea how we might get there - now we knew.

For Saturday we decided to do the Balfour track - after all that was the purpose of the trip. We travelled back down the main drag, past out exit point from the Friday and on to Sandy Cape Track for a few km to the start of the Balfour Track. Having lowered tyre pressures, blinded up the front of the vehicles and prestrapped front and rear, we posed for the obligatory photo. The start of the track looked promising, rocky ledges, and a deep rut on the left. As I followed Joe & Liz the troopy lurched over to the left. This could get interesting I thought as I noticed Joes spare tyre on the roof. Soon we were into the bog holes, some shallow, others not so, some short, other much longer. The water was splashing out over the bonnet, but with the right bow wave we kept the vehicles dry.

Soon enough I reached a bog hole that had 3 ruts on the exit. The middle one common to either an exit left or exit right. Alan was on the other side indicating I should go right, Joe & Liz were also watching and Kath was ready with the camera - with hindsight I should have realised something was amiss! I followed Alan's instructions and went right, but not right enough. I'm 70% of the way through and I feel the vehicle sink into the soft sand beneath. I'm not getting out of this easily I'm thinking. Alan grabs the snatch strap and gives it a yank to free it from the tape holding it to the roof rack. I'm OK the water is just below the doors. Front and rear lockers are getting nowhere and I can feel that the left front tyre is up against a ledge. I'm dug in too deep to go backwards. Alan hooks me up to the back of the troopy and tells me the Joe will just gently pull me out. I go nowhere, Joe tries again a little harder, I go nowhere, again with more passion, I go nowhere. 'But Joe just gave me a gentle pull' says Alan. Ahhh the truth is out, Alan had got stuck, Joe had taken the chicken track and recovered him, all without using the radio. Now I understand why Kath was there with the camera!! We try again, the snatch strap breaks, it was brand new. Alan lends me his 12,000kg strap and we try once more before swapping Joe's troopy for Alan's 60 Series. We start to make some progress, and eventually I'm free. The first recovery of the day is over - well 2nd actually. The Balfour track consists of bog holes of various depths and lengths, with a rock ballast road between the holes (apparently there was a tram track there once), the deeper and longer ones are at the West (sea) end, with the ones towards the East having larger and larger swathes of chicken tracks that go through soft button grass peat bogs and are seriously harder than staying on track. However the ruts do get deeper and eventually Joe managed to get the troopy bottomed out, a quick recovery soon saw him sorted and finally we made it to the end of the Balfour track. Again photo's to show that we had finished it and time to take the blinds off. Every vehicle had soaking carpet, try as we might the water was too deep and the holes too long to avoid water getting in. I recall someone commenting that their passenger had been up to their ankles at one point. Crossing a series of mining tracks, a couple of dead ends and turnarounds we finally made it to the township of Balfour - now a random collection of holiday shacks, and a cemetery - for lunch (see I told them we would be there for lunch, just got the day wrong). On the way back to the main drag that would lead us back to camp, I had noticed a 'long cut' via the local airfield. A T shape and appearing to be in good condition, if a little short. We crossed over, but Terry managed to get hung up on the exit hump, and needed to be recovered. He now goes down in history as the only person who ever needed to be recovered on an airfield!!

Sunday found us all keen to get away and meet up with the Braddon 4WD club. We arrived at the designated meeting point 20 minutes early, to be joined soon after by 5 host vehicles. Introductions were made - we all agreed that without name tags remembering all the names was going to be a challenge. Down through Temma and back on to Sandy Cape Track, but this time we carried straight on at the Balfour track. There appeared to be more vehicles around on the Sunday, especially motor cycles. A group of 3 thought that landing on Micks bonnet might be a good idea, given they were out of control, but Mick managed to avoid them somehow. Soon we were on the beach. Then back off, then on, off, on... Fortunately the experience's of Friday held us in good stead. Apart from not having the courage to lower our tyre pressures enough first time around and having to have a 2nd stop, we did OK. There are a number of creeks to cross on the way down to the Cape, rocky outcrops to negotiate and numerous tracks going everywhere - fortunately we had local knowledge with us. Lunch was probably a little later than what Rod had planned, and unfortunately a couple of the Braddon vehicles had to return - our lack of experience and knowledge of the area probably cut short the trip they had planned - for which we apologise. At lunch we found ourselves discussing familiar topics, access to the tracks, minority groups wanting areas closed, restricted and the like. What struck me was that the 4WD community seems to accept and want areas to be open and used by a wide variety of users, fishermen, ATV's, horses, environmentalists, forestry, loggers and not restricted to a small group or closed altogether. Time was getting on so we decided that a trip to the lighthouse was in order followed by a quick trip back to camp. As we left lunch Howard managed to get hung up in some ruts and needed to be recovered. Now everyone had been recovered - my measure of a good trip! At the lighthouse we saw the bay where a number of whales had been washed up in November 2008, apparently at Christmas the stench was unbearable. The skeletal bones were still clearly visible on the beach, but we didn't have the time to get down there. It was time to head back. However at the the final creek of the first beach drive Rod pulled over and pointed out the top of the roof (or what was left) of a short wheel base Toyota that had got bogged there some 2 years ago. Apparently 2 vehicles got caught in the same group but they had only been able to recover one of them. The information we had, told us that quicksand was a hazard and could appear and disappear quickly - whilst we had not come across any, this was a sobering reminder, fortunately as we were heading home. The offer of a beer with the Braddon group was accepted and we were taken to a well hidden but open area where there was a veritable little village of campers, caravans and tents. Apparently they had been coming down to the area for some time before someone found this spot. Not quite wind free, but as good as you could get on the North West coast of Tassie. We had been out over 8 hours when we got back to camp and a great time had been had by all. Many thanks for Marie for getting bogged on a ATV in the first place, and the hospitality of the Braddon 4WD club for taking the time to show us mainlanders some wonderful sights.

After 3 days of driving it was time to do something different. How could we go to Tasmania and not go fishing? I purchased my first rod about 20 years ago, shortly after we arrived in Australia. Since then I have managed to catch a single fish. At a trout farm, and only coz the hook went through it's side rather than down it's throat. Howard & Colleen grabbed their boat for a trip up the Arthur River to see was they could catch. Terry & Joan took their canoes and went for a paddle. Alan, Kath & I went fishing from 10:00 to 12:00, I managed to lose a couple of lure's I had brought over with me, and caught nothing. In fact no one caught anything, not us nor anyone else on the beach. Some locals came down and had a go but quickly retreated (to watch us so we discovered later). Time for a break, Alan suggested getting some lures from the local store to match local conditions. I headed to the store near the ranger station and purchased a couple of lure's, let's see what happens now. Full of confidence we went fishing from 14:00 to 16:00, again nothing. Fishing has to be akin to watching test cricket - boring and totally pointless, let's just spend the money at the local fish market and enjoy the fish. Fishing is a boring pointless exercise, the seas were over fished and fished out years ago. Not to mention that I had to go back to the store and purchase some more lure's. No it was not my knots - they held every time, the line kept breaking, through it stated that it was strong enough to hold, well within limits. The line being 5 years old may not have helped. So far I'd lost 4 lure's and caught Zero fish, time for a break. Then Terry catch's a fish, too small, so back it goes, then another one, again back it goes. Then others start catching them. OK I'll give it one more go. Bugger me, I manage to find the only piece of seaweed for miles around, no hang on it's moving, no, can't be a fish, yes it is, got to land it, it's struggling on the line, don’t want to let it shake itself off, hang on to it, don't let it go, got it, yippee, finally I have caught a fish, quick back for the next one. Kath takes the obligatory photograph. Back we go, shortly afterwards another, then another. Soon everyone on the beach is pulling them in. Lo and behold the locals have been watching us and swarm down to the beach. They are like people possessed, they want your spot and each time the cast their line they take a step closer to you until you get crowded out. It's funny to watch, there are 2 ladies (?) are almost manic, every time the line goes in a fish comes out, it lasts for about 10 minutes before thing calm down. Alan has already processed one bucket load. Alan, Terry and I are hauling them in, the bucket is full, all you can see are tails sticking out of the top flapping as they try to avoid the obvious end result. We are focussed on bringing in the next one, and fail to notice the wave coming in from behind us. Suddenly the bucket is over and the fish are trying to make their escape. Keeping my feet dry become secondary to trying to retrieve as many fish as we can. I manage one, not sure how many Terry and Alan got, but it was not many. The bucket was looking very empty. Oh well better keep going, geez how love fishing, this has to be one of the best sports there is. Can't wait to pull in the next one, non fishermen have no idea what they are missing out on. Alan deals with our 2nd bucket load, we go back to camp and lay them out - 13 in total, it should have been 20 or so if it hadn't been for the bucket going over, still not a bad haul, and what fun. Liz cooks one basted in French Onion soup (didn't have any flour), boy did it taster good. We decided to have one more go, it was dark and the wind was picking up. The locals had gone, but a huge fire was raging on the beach. We fished for about an hour but with no success, finally I lost another lure - my fault this time, not paying attention to which line I was holding whilst removing a birds nest. Time to give up and enjoy the fire. I'd lost count of the number of lure's I'd lost - 5 I think, and the number of fish caught - 6 possibly. But a boring tedious day had turned into one of my most memorable ones ever, along with the previous 3.

Back at camp comments were made about last Cup Day weekend at Portland, and how much fun it had been. This Tassie trip had been better still, how can I top that next year? I'm not sure I can. The weather had been kind. Everyone had enjoyed each of the 4 days, and had a good time. We had some excellent driving, good challenges, all learnt something, been where we did not expect to go, and new experiences. Every vehicle had been recovered, and no one left with any serious damage.

Tuesday arrived and it was time to strike camp. I was on that evenings boat, but had plenty of time available. Alan, Kath & I travelled together to Smithton, where I ducked in to fuel up, whilst Alan & Kath carried on to some friends. Slowly I got to Burnie where I visited Lactos, to collect a heap of cheeses for the children back home. Finally I got to Devonport with plenty of time on my hands. One more thing to do before queuing for the boat, the trip home and work tomorrow...

Many thanks to my fellow travellers for making this trip one to remember.

Written By Peter Duddley

The Trips Bushfire Relief - Firewood Trip Balfour Track - Tassie Trip Mt Dom Dom - Narbathong Wonnagatta Snow Page Woods Point Alice Springs 2009 Bunyip 2008 Formal Dinner 2009 Cape Otway Trip Wonnangatta 2008 Shady Creek Simpson Desert 2010 Dedick Trail Wonnangatta 2011