Christmas at Corinna, part 3

Boxing Day—also celebrated in Australia—was another sunshine-filled day. The pademelons had gone on holiday, so after a leisurely breakfast the McGuires escorted us to the dock at the Pieman River. They had recommended a cruise to the river's mouth on the Arcadia II, the only Huon pine river-cruiser still working.

The Arcadia II

Huon pine (Lagarostrobos franklinii) yields a lovely golden wood, historically prized by both shipbuilders and furniture makers, in part because its own oil acts as a preservative. In the 19^th century Corinna—the northernmost point where Huon pine grows—was known for its pining as well as its mining. But this pine is also one of the slowest-growing and longest-living trees on earth. A tree may take 2000 years to reach full height and live for over 3000 years; it does not replace itself quickly. After decades of careless and widespread harvesting it is now protected. Current Huon pine items are crafted from recycled wood or trees salvaged from rivers and power dams.

Huon pine is not a true pine, but belongs to the Podocarpaceae. I don’t have a good photograph of it but there are images online.

The Arcadia cruised the Pieman for an hour and a half, threading through a gallery forest to ‘The Heads’ where the river encounters the Southern Ocean. 

We passed small, leaf-curtained Love Falls, and the mouths of the Savage and Donaldson Rivers, both named for early prospectors. The boat hauled in close to shore for the skipper to name typical temperate rainforest trees: brown-topped stringybark (a eucalyptus), celery-top pine, Huon pine, myrtle beech, tree fern, leatherwood, teatree. Parts of this rainforest are believed never to have seen fire, an unusual circumstance in this part of the world.

The river is deep and the water’s surface was quite still, offering glorious reflections as we moved between the walls of trees.

Reflection caught by the boat's waves

The boat put up at a dock near the river’s mouth and we were handed lunches to take to the beach, a fifteen-minute walk away. We scrambled along a bit of boardwalk, then a four-wheel track, and finally along sand littered with driftwood till we could see the Southern Ocean thundering into the river. Dunes rose from the beach. We settled on a log and ate our delicious wraps and cookies, then prowled the dunes and the shore till it was time to head back to the boat for the return trip.

Peter walking on the beach below the dunes

Southern Ocean surging in

Of course I was on the lookout for birds—though it’s a characteristic of the Tarkine forest that invertebrates make up the majority of the animal population and only a small number of mammals and birds are found. That said, before we left on the cruise I spotted a yellow-throated honeyeater in the trees near the dock, and we saw gulls and ducks—perhaps Pacific black ducks—along the river. Then a white-bellied sea eagle took off in front of the boat and arced across the river to perch on a tree branch. At the shore, masked lapwings and gulls were calling and flying. On the walk back to the boat I saw a pair of red-capped plovers on a stretch of sand.

Before heading back upriver the boat took a turn past the banks near the mouth. The land is differently shaped there, more sparsely covered with plants and low trees. 

Nearing the mouth of the river and the beach

The ride back was a lazy after-lunch time. We chatted with other passengers and listened to the captain talk about the history of the area and the boat. At the dock we found our friends waiting. We wandered around taking pictures and reading signs that told about Corinna and the forest, but it had gotten hot so we adjourned to the small bar for a beer. 

After the drinks we strolled back to our cottages--it was nearly wine o'clock! Then it was time for a splendid final supper of smoked salmon, goat cheese, ham, salad, with figs in sticky syrup and champagne jelly for condiments. Stollen and cherries for dessert. 

Twilight was setting in and Peter went to the back verandah to see if the pademelons had returned. He came back quickly to say they hadn't--but a snake was there instead.

We think it was a white-lipped snake and about four feet long. It didn’t move while we watched. And we were glad it wasn’t still there in the morning. On the other hand, as Irene pointed out, while it was there we knew where it was …