We awoke at around 8:30 and wandered outside. There was not a cloud in the sky or a breath of wind to be felt. Conditions were perfect. Despite still being sore from the previous days marathon paddle, we couldn’t miss this opportunity, convincing ourselves that the 35km to Deal Island in these conditions would be easy.
We washed our salt-stiffened clothes using the fresh water from a nearby tank. We left them to dry in the morning sun and set off to explore the island.
The view from the top of the island was well worth the walk. To the west, you could see Wilson’s Prom 55km away. 35km to the southeast, Deal Island could be seen. This would be our next destination.
After packing up the boat and applying several layers of sunscreen, we were on the water by 11am. The first couple of hours passed by uneventfully. Two yachts could be seen on the horizon to our right travelling under motor in the millpond like conditions. After yesterday’s paddle, it was almost eerie being in the middle of such a dead calm ocean.
About half way through the crossing, I turned around expecting to see Hogan Island from where we had come, directly behind us. I was shocked to see it nearly 45 degrees to the southwest. We were encountering a fairly strong tidal push to the right. We compensated for this by adjusting our line and ferry gliding the rest of the way. As we got closer, we aimed for the gap between Erith and Dover Islands despite having been told that only at the highest of tides can a kayak be paddled across the rocks. With the added effect of fatigue, we figured that the worst case scenario of dragging the plastic kayak over the rocks for a few metres would be a lot easier than paddling the entire way around to the mouth of Murray Pass.
As the hours passed, and the distance between us and our destination became less and less, it became increasingly apparent that the ‘gap’ between the islands that was to be our entry to the refuge of ‘East cove’, was not a gap at all. One hundred metres of sharp, jagged rocks now lay before us. By this time, the effects of the last 48 hours had well and truly taken their toll and neither of us were in a state to paddle the extra five kilometres around the island. For over and hour we pulled, pushed, dragged and at times, carried the fully laden kayak across the rocks. After countless falls, numerous cuts and plenty of wailing and gnashing of teeth, we were back on the water and into the final approach across Murray Pass. Relieved that our badly scratched boat was still seaworthy, and exhausted from the days events, we pulled on to the beach at ‘East Cove’ on Deal Island at about 5pm.
After re-uniting with the crews from ‘Fiji Express’ and ‘De Je Blue’, we wandered up the steep hill to the Caretakers residence, hoping to make a reverse charged call to family and girlfriends back home. ‘Ian’ and ‘Sue’ could not have been more hospitable as they listened intently to our story and plans to paddle to Tasmania. They had a three-month residency on the island under the employ of the Australian Bush Heritage Commission. After a hot cup of tea, and phone calls back home, we jumped on the back of the 4-wheel motorbike and Ian took us up to see the magnificent panoramic views from the lighthouse. From our vantage point, we could see Flinders Island (our next destination) some 65km to the south west.
Back down at the caretaker’s house we sat and listened to the ‘Mersey Radio’ weather forecast. Tomorrow would be fine. Strengthening South-westerly winds and high seas were expected for the following three days. We were now faced with a difficult decision. Do we set off early on what was to be the longest and most difficult leg of our journey, or do we wait for the bad weather to pass and to regain our strength? After much discussion, we agreed the rest would not only be essential for the long paddle to Flinders Island, but it would also give us the opportunity to
explore Deal Island.
We arrived at Wilsons Prom at about 10:30. We pulled into the carpark and met Nick and his family who had come to wave us off and wish us well. The weather for our 1st day of paddling was looking good with the sun shining and blue skies.
We pressed on into a mild headwind, but as went round the point, the wind shifted and we enjoyed a temporary tail wind. The sail went up and for a short while, we made good progress. When the wind picked up the sail collapsed. A poorly tied stay rope had given way under the increasing winds. A need to constantly correct the kayak as it veered left made the going difficult and without the added pace enjoyed by the sail, progress was slow. With the distribution of weight towards the back of the boat, Nick was now sitting in a good two inches of water. The water around the lighthouse resembled a washing machine as the waves refracted off the rocks - adding to our list of concerns. However, with less than an hour to paddle however, the end was in sight.
We woke at about 10am after a comfortable night under the stars. Despite brief periods of sunshine through the clouds, winds were still strong. We lit a small fire and for hours I tried with limited success to dry my wet clothes from yesterday’s paddle.
We woke at around 7am and after an unhurried breakfast and a thorough assessment of the prevailing weather conditions, we set off. Our destination could not be seen as we paddled out of the cove and would be nothing more than a promise on the end of a compass bearing for the first 2 hours. The forecast we had been given the previous night was for a 10 to 15 knot southwesterly wind. As we paddled out past the protection of the cove, whilst the wind was only slight, it appeared to be coming from the southeast. We convinced ourselves that once we got out into the ‘clean wind’ unaffected by the prom, it would swing around to the southwest and give us the tail wind that would make this leg of the journey so much easier. It never happened.
We awoke at around 8:30 and wandered outside. There was not a cloud in the sky or a breath of wind to be felt. Conditions were perfect. Despite still being sore from the previous days marathon paddle, we couldn’t miss this opportunity, convincing ourselves that the 35km to Deal Island in these conditions would be easy.
As the hours passed, and the distance between us and our destination became less and less, it became increasingly apparent that the ‘gap’ between the islands that was to be our entry to the refuge of ‘East cove’, was not a gap at all. One hundred metres of sharp, jagged rocks now lay before us. By this time, the effects of the last 48 hours had well and truly taken their toll and neither of us were in a state to paddle the extra five kilometres around the island. For over and hour we pulled, pushed, dragged and at times, carried the fully laden kayak across the rocks. After countless falls, numerous cuts and plenty of wailing and gnashing of teeth, we were back on the water and into the final approach across Murray Pass. Relieved that our badly scratched boat was still seaworthy, and exhausted from the days events, we pulled on to the beach at ‘East Cove’ on Deal Island at about 5pm. 
The morning of the 31st was spent lying on the beach and enjoying the sunshine. A quick check of stock revealed that we had enough food to last us a further 6 days. Conscious of our limited food supplies, but too hungry to care, we devoured our 6th meal of pasta in as many days and set off back up the hill to wander through the Deal Island museum (a tin shed) and explore some of the island.
The crew from ‘Fiji Express’ were still celebrating when we awoke at around 8:30am. Amused, we sat in the sun and watched as they stumbled around the deck in the 20 knot winds, before we wandered back up the hill to make a call from the Satellite phone that the caretakers had kindly offered to charge for us the night before. Even though fully charged, the battery would only allow us to make one phone call. Frustrated and annoyed we wandered back down to the beach stopping only briefly to talk to the friendly group from Sale that we had met the night before, as they made their way to the lighthouse.
The wind was still strong when we woke, at times gusting to 45 knots. After an unhurried breakfast we packed the kayak and paddled slowly around to the south side of the island from where we would launch for the extended crossing to Flinders Island the following day should the weather permit. In the strong winds and at times driving rain we bobbed around like a cork as the waves hit us from both sides as they refracted off the rocks. It took us just over an hour to reach the sanctity of Winter Cove. After negotiating our way through the breakers we landed on the beach, dragged the kayak to safe ground and set about looking for a place to set up camp for the night. It didn’t take us to long find a nice sheltered area amongst the Fir trees. After lunch we spent the afternoon lying in the sun, exploring the area and playing what we had come to refer to as ‘the waiting game’. We had become quite good at this game over the last 8 days.
Alarms went off at 3:30am. Conditions were perfect. We cooked a large breakfast consisting of rice with dried fruit and nuts, and packed the kayak in the moonlight. Our first attempt at pushing off the sand and out through the breaking waves left us drenched, the kayak half full of water and both of cursing the thought of the 12 hour paddle ahead in wet clothes. Our second attempt was far more successful and after having successfully negotiated our way through the breakers, we sat and waited for Peter to arrive. Forty five minutes later and there was still no sign of him. Just as we were about to head off without him, we saw the silhouette of a sea-kayaker paddle around the corner and into the sheltered cove. After brief introductions, Peter told us that after having spoken to us the night before, he had heard a second forecast. He told us he had picked up a ‘scratchy’ forecast on his AM/FM radio predicting a strong southerly at around midday. This was not good and could potentially have meant another 4 days on the island. We paddled back ashore and praying the 2nd battery on the satellite phone would work, called through to the weather bureau. The news was good. Not only did the phone work, but the winds were not expected to increase or swing around to the south until late evening. Frustrated to have wasted so much time, but relieved to be back underway, we set off again at around 6am.
After having been woken by Peter at 6:30am, it was not long before we were back in the kayak and on the water. Conditions were reasonable and progress was good. Despite the wind picking up slightly, the first two hours passed by relatively uneventfully and it was not long before we reached Trousers Point. The unusual granite rock features and sandy beaches of Trousers Point made for a pleasant and interesting place to stretch the legs and have a bite to eat.
The final leg of our trip was from Preservation Island across Banks Strait to Little Musselroe Bay at the North West tip of Tasmania. I awoke early, and sprang out of bed in the knowledge that just 40km separated us from our final destination and an end to a fortnight’s marathon paddle and a year’s worth of relentless training and preparation.
