The third Cape …

 

An avid reader of this blog – if such a being exists – will know that in late 2021 Cath and I walked the Three Capes Track (see The Three Capes Track … , published 18 October 2021). They will also be aware that “Three” Capes is something of misnomer as only two Capes are visited, namely Cape Pillar and Cape Hauy. The third cape, Cape Raoul, is in fact only seen in the distance at the end of the first day of walking and must be accessed on a separate walk known as the Cape Raoul Track. So today, the second day of 2024 and fueled by the fervour of New Year good intentions, I suggested that we collect the third Cape.

 

The weather was looking decidedly inclement all the way from the Huon to the Tasman Peninsular, a drive of about 2.5 hours. We were forcibly reminded of our days living in the west of Scotland where we always seemed to be telling our visitors that the scenery really was stunning if only you could see it.  Even after setting out there was no hint of any relenting in the weather and the first few kilometres, through dense eucalyptus forest, were quite eerie as gentle misting rain emphasised the silver trunks of the gum trees. But as the Rutulian prince exclaimed as he exhorted his troops to engage the the army of Aeneas “Audentis fortuna iuvat” (Virgil Aeneid, 10.284) fortune favours the bold and we gave no thought to turning back.

 

Ghostly gums

It was a good decision. The 7km path out to the Cape can be divided roughly into thirds: the first is “up”, the second is “down” and the third is “flat”. The good thing about this is of course that on the return journey the last bit is all downhill which helps enormously. The path meanders enough to make the gradients manageable and once the engine gets going it is easy to maintain a good pace. But I digress. Just after reaching the end of the first third of the walk and starting to descend, the forest opens up for a first view of the cliffs.  The lowest lying clouds had lifted and the view was simply breathtaking.

 

The clouds starting to lift

 

I once heard tourists (in a YouTube video) describe this walk as boring because there was too much vegetation involved and that this detracted from the cliffs and the seascape. I must disagree. There are plenty of vantage points to see the cliffs and the changes in the vegetation are fascinating in their own right. Just as you hit the relatively “flat” part of the track, the eucalypts give way to a forest of sheoak (Allocasuarina). The change is abrupt and one can only marvel at the power of the micro climate. A little further on, even the hardy sheoak surrenders to the wind and only banksia scrub remains. Cath and I were struck by the intricate patterns the wind weaves into the scrub making the plain approaching the Cape look a little like a Japanese garden full of bonsai trees.

 

Banksia wind bonsai

The Cape itself does not disappoint and is just as magnificent as its two counterparts on the Three Capes track. The dolerite pillars tower above the turbulent Southern Ocean and reinforce just why the Three Capes of the Tasman peninsular are known as the Pillars at the Edge of the World. 

 

 Dolerite pillars

 

 Looking toward the Cape

Cape Raoul

I guess the moral of this particular tale is don't always believe what you see in YouTube videos. The walk is not as hazardous as the sensational sign in the first photo suggests and is quite safe so long as you don't stray too far from the path. The path itself is immaculately maintained and although there are ups and downs involved the walking is fairly straightforward; we managed the 14km round trip in just under 4 hours. As this walk was my suggestion, Cath has already nominated our the next bush-walking adventure. I shudder with apprehension because it will likely be much more challenging than today's outing ...