To Hells Gate and back

WITH Captain Cheery at the helm, Louise Evans sets off aboard the Apple Isle's Lady Jane Franklin on a fascinating Gordon River cruise.

A river runs ... the history of the Gordon River is filled with tales, tall and true, from Tasmania's convict past

PEOPLE who are cheery in the morning are infuriating to those of us who struggle to speak, let alone be civil, in the early hours. So 8.30am isn't that early, but it is when you are on holiday.

Having run from our hotel around Strahan Harbour on Tasmania's west coast for fear we'll miss our Gordon River cruise, the cheery bloke at the gate stops us in our stride when he asks for our tickets. Tickets? "Never mind, may I see your itinerary, then," he chirps. It's back at the hotel. "OK, what are your names?" We aren't on his list. "No problem, I'll be back in a minute," he smiles as he dashes off to the terminal in his brilliant white shorts and short-sleeved shirt. It is 7C. He is obviously immune to cold and early starts. The boat's staff are peering out at the two scowling latecomers wondering about the delay when Mr Cheery reappears. "All fixed, let's go," he sings and ushers us on to his palace.

Mr Cheery is in fact Captain Cheery of the 33m catamaran the Lady Jane Franklin. "Champagne?" he offers. Why not. We obviously need cheering up. And so begins our six-hour cruise around Macquarie Harbour, the Gordon River and into Tasmania's World Heritage rainforest. Insulated by champagne, leather seats and floor-to-ceiling harbour views on the captain's upper deck, we cruise out towards Hells Gate, the seethingly narrow 120m entrance to the harbour.

But first things first. Our menu for the day is being announced by our guide cum cabin boy. Tea, coffee, champagne and cake will be followed by a lunch of local fresh salmon, trout, quail and wine, then dessert and afternoon tea. There will be hot-and-cold running snacks all day. I shouldn't have bothered with the Vegemite on toast at the hotel. If that's not enough, Captain Cheery keeps everyone topped up with environmental tidbits and tales of life on the harbour back in its penal days.

Hells Gate got its name from re-offending convicts being shipped to Sarah Island, a wind-battered settlement inside the harbour that dates back to 1822. The harbour entrance looks like a deathtrap but local crayfish operators navigate it daily, as does Captain Cheery, who steers his massive vessel with a tiny computer game-style joystick towards the Gordon River.

It's so easy that he lets me have a go after we pass a series of commercial salmon farms, which consist of giant floating pens. Worth $170 million a year, Tasmania's Atlantic salmon industry began with fish imported from Canada to New South Wales in the 1970s and from there to Tasmania in the '80s.

The Gordon River draws its beauty from the tannin that leaches from the button-grass on its banks and stains the water, creating a mirror on the surface that reflects the surrounding rainforest.

After serving as a highway from the rainforest for transporting prized Huon pine, which grows just 1mm a year, to make boats for the expanding colony, the Gordon became a battle site in 1972 that gave birth to the green movement and killed off the Tasmanian Hydro Electric Commission's plan to dam part of the Gordon and the Franklin rivers. It also led to the federal government nominating the area for World Heritage listing in 1982.

We pull into a jetty called Heritage Landing for an elevated nature walk. Naturally it rains on our trip into the rainforest, but Captain Cheery has plastic ponchos for sooky souls who don't want to be saturated while hugging a 2000-year-old Huon pine, which is so ancient it has fallen over and has growth sprouting out of every hollow like a bald old man with hair shooting from his ears, nose and chest. Warmed by wine and salmon, we're ready for some entertainment, which is supplied by a theatrical guide on Sarah Island who spins a few tales, some tall, some true, as the wind attempts to banish us from the old penal settlement, where many prisoners must have died of exposure.

According to our island story spinner, convict life improved markedly under the control of commandant James Butler and master shipwright David Hoy. In what serves as a lesson to bosses everywhere, they cut the men's working hours, reduced punishment and turned the island into the most productive shipbuilding centre in the colonies. But just in case those convicts got to dreaming about escaping their island collective, the bakehouse added ergot, a naturally occurring rye mould, to the bread to prevent inmates stockpiling rations for their next holiday.

Captain Cheery's last piece of advice is worth repeating. He suggests after the cruise we visit Morrison's Huon Pine Sawmill just down the road from the jetty to see how the old millers used to cut logs and to collect some Huon wood shavings. There we meet old Snowy (Grant) Morrison, who cuts up a log and tells us how to dry out and oil the Huon slabs we've just bought to use as cheese platters. We also leave with a couple of bundles of Huon shavings, which supposedly act as a moth and insect deterrent.

Now every time I open my pantry and wardrobe I'm engulfed by the smell of Huon pine and swept back to the rainforest, the Gordon River and scenes of Captain Cheery letting me steer his big boat.

Louise Evans was a guest of Gordon River Cruises.