Mallacoota and Gippsland a tranquil escape from reality
Cut adrift from the coronavirus crisis on a tour of East Gippsland.
It feels like I’m floating on the border of two worlds: of what once was and what will eventually be. My stand-up paddleboard bobs at the opening to Lakes Entrance, where the ocean floods in to meet the sprawling river system that makes up Victoria’s Gippsland Lakes. We hug the rocks, just metres from a seal colony that clearly hasn’t got the memo about social distancing. The adults are draped in an ungainly fashion on the rocks, as though deposited there by a wave and now can’t get off. The youngsters show more finesse, diving and turning circles in front of our astounded eyes. We’re soon joined by a pod of Burrunan dolphins. These cryptic and endangered creatures slip through the water effortlessly and then, just like that, they’re gone. Were they really singing, “So long and thanks for all the fish”?
Combining a scenic helicopter flight with stand-up paddleboarding, HeliSUP is a partnership between Lakes Entrance Helicopters and adventure touring company Venture Out. We lift off in a Robinson R44 and are soon looking down on Australia’s largest inland waterway — six times the size of Sydney Harbour — then make a pass over the golden dunes of Ninety Mile Beach, which hold back the pounding surf of Bass Strait.
We land and launch the SUPs, slowly making our way back to Lakes Entrance. On the incoming tide the sea is sapphire. Today it’s emerald with tinges of gold; the whole scene utterly peaceful. The clouds are layered low, textured blue-grey like an oil painting, with ripples reflecting the lightly raked lake.
Out here we’re cut adrift from the crisis gripping the terranean world. We drift past sandbars where pied oystercatchers scurry and pelicans waddle into the water. The calmness is so complete that I’m unmoved when an enormous shadow passes under me and a barbed tail reaches out of the water to tentatively swab my paddleboard. The stingray encounter catches me off-guard but it’s a mesmerising moment.
These are undoubtably strange times for Sarah Carlisle, owner of Venture Out, whose business name now sounds more like an act of defiance than an enticement to explore. But bike, kayak and SUP hire seems almost tailor-made for uncertain times: calming activities that offer physical exercise and distance, where the only contact you have is with nature and your own soul.
I cherish the comforting snippets of normality I encounter over three days in East Gippsland. I grab some fish ’n’ chips and eat a late lunch on the foreshore as squawking silver gulls congregate at my feet. A smiling couple walk over the footbridge that links the town to the beach, towels draped over their necks. Kids scream and jump from the top deck of a motor launch into the water. A fisherman in a tinny yanks at his outboard motor, coaxing it to life as his mate passes him an Esky to stash. It’s all instantly recognisable as late summer in Australia.
Outside the Paynesville Wine Bar the air is warm and smells of salt. People wear T-shirts, tear at pizzas and discuss the best way to cook mussels. Whack ’em on the barbie or deep-fry in tempura; when the apocalypse hits this will be us, sitting by the canal wolfing down mussels and wine, while masked lapwings caw and the sun throws lemony light on the manna gums over on Raymond Island.
Down in Metung there’s no restriction on mass gatherings of yachts tethered to moorings, or flocks of cormorants drying their wings in the late March sun. A woman throws a stick into the lake and her labrador bounds after it clumsily. Friends on paddleboards glide by on glassy water. It seems crazy that scenes like this could be considered wild indulgence, but the simplicity of life takes on a beauty I’ve never fully appreciated until now.
At the Marlo Hotel I get a grandstand view of the Snowy River as it shuffles past the littoral rainforest and coastal saltmarsh into the sea. The legendary pub has survived myriad architectural whimsies over the years, but the new deck is inspired, built from local silvertop ash (Orbost, just up the road, is a proud timber town) with a shipyard aesthetic. You could sell tickets to sunset here, but entertainment is otherwise dished up by pool tables and footy tipping. Footy (the last game for the foreseeable future) is on the telly but the grandstands are as empty as the cockle shells strewn across the sand at Cape Conran, 15 minutes down the road.
The January fires stopped only when they hit the sea, searing through road signs as though they were paper and shrivelling the trees. It might be the end of the road here, but only in the literal sense. Nature’s recovery is flamboyant and joyous. The new growth on the trees is incandescent lime-green and as thick and soft as puppy fur. All along the road to Mallacoota the torched trees are strung with the gleaming tinsel of regrowth. Bracken and ferns explode like fireworks out of the charred ground and copper streams snake languidly through shady nature reserves.
In Mallacoota I stop at Lucy’s Noodles for dumplings and handmade rice noodles of the highest order. Lucy Wood and her family sheltered in their restaurant on New Year’s Eve as the fires approached. Her son, Jin, describes the scene as something out of a science-fiction movie.
That movie has now taken an unexpected plot twist, and you do wonder how much more the town can take. But one thing’s certain: this beautiful, watery corner of the country will always give back far more than it could ever take.
Ricky French was a guest of Visit Victoria.
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IN THE KNOW
HeliSUP is a three-hour experience for individuals or small groups. No experience is necessary and all gear is provided. Venture Out also hires out mountain bikes and kayaks for exploring the bike trails and lakes of East Gippsland.
lakesentrancehelicopters.com.au
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MORE TO THE STORY
On December 30, Nowa Nowa resident Sandra Huggins watched in disbelief as
the world around her was swallowed by flames, snapping a dramatic photo of the incredible bushfire before turning and running for her life.
“The strike team said they would keep us safe, but after seeing that I didn’t think they could. We could see it, hear it and feel it.”
Huggins had a tinny ready to go if the fire engulfed the town. The plan was to tip the boat upside down in the lake and shelter inside. It never came to that, but 11 houses were lost and some people are living in caravans.
To bring visitors back and give the place some cheer, a scarecrow-building competition has popped up. Along the main street a ragtag bunch of stuffed characters has sprung to still life, luring travellers to pull over, give donations and start conversations. A particularly poignant figure is built from the ruins of the historic Mount Nowa Nowa watchtower, destroyed in the fires. He stands proud and resolute, an effigy of the town’s character — someone who survived, just like the people here did. A town of scarecrows perhaps, but a town not running scared.
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Travel + Indulgence recognises our readers are extremely limited in their opportunities to travel during the COVID-19 pandemic. However, we also know you are avid planners who like to file away ideas for future journeys, both in Australia and abroad. T+I will continue to feature destinations that may not be accessible now but, we hope, will soon be back on the agenda.