White Wallabies

Lots of adventures today. I woke up at 5:30am, then played “dodge the wallaby” as they continually darted in front of my car on the drive over to the Bruny Island Lighthouse. Their survival instincts aren’t good for surviving – I was driving between 20-30kph to avoid hitting anyone, but the wallabies and pademelons were consistently waiting next to the road where they were safe, and then darting in front of my car at the last second. One repeated this feat three times, getting across the road safely, darting back to the other side, and then re-crossing the road yet again. Thankfully the island seems to mostly empty out each night as everyone heads back on the ferry, and I assume the locals must all have developed cat-like reflexes when driving in the dark.

I got to the cape way before anyone else, and braved strong winds and light rain up to the lighthouse. Enroute I saw what I later learned was a group of yellow-tailed black cockatoos, so add that to the list of birds I had no idea existed in Australia. From there it was off to the derelict, bread-filled freezers of the Bruny Baker, and I happened to get there as he was dropping off his bread for the day. I took a fresh-out-of-the-oven loaf with me, and I gotta say, the man makes a damn good loaf of bread.

After leaving the “bakery” I was in search of white wallabies, and I’d heard they hung out near Adventure Bay. When I arrived there wasn’t a wallaby in sight (I later found out that they pretty much disappear during the day), so I did my first proper Australian hike up to the Fluted Cape, covering 6 kilometers and climbing 270 meters to dramatic views from from the top of completely vertical sea cliffs. It was not a spot for anyone with a fear of heights, but for a middle-aged bald man without much common sense it was a great spot to sit and dangle your legs.

I returned to my home base at the Inala Nature Reserve not yet ready to give up on my lifelong day-old dream of seeing a white wallaby, so after hanging out with the pademelons at the reserve I set off for a dusk ride up the coast to see if one might appear out the forest like the terrestrial version of Ahab’s whale. Finally, after twenty minutes and more than a few false positives, I spotted him, silently munching grass on the far side of a field. Our eyes met, soft music played from the heavens, I clicked a couple of photos, and thus ended another good day in Tasmania.