Wilsons Prom: Southern star

Accessible and brimming with natural beauty, Wilsons Promontory National Park, Victoria, leaves tracks on the hearts of all who visit.

It was one of those days where “wet” just doesn’t cover it. The sky was swollen to bursting point; rain soaked through our backpacks, clothes, socks, even our underwear. Yet we were oblivious to everything but the vibrant colours before us. The large granite boulders at the northern end of Refuge Cove, on the east coast of Wilsons Promontory, were stippled with orange and black lichens above the high-tide mark, as bold and vivid as though an artist had just swept a brush across them. The sand beneath our feet was pearl-white, and offshore a yacht rocked gently on turquoise water, safe from the furious weather of Bass Strait.

Five minutes later we passed a boaties’ campsite tucked away behind the beach, amid tall trees. We ducked in and gazed upon long wooden railings inscribed by mariners with the names of vessels that had sought haven here over the years. Some had been carved or inlaid with rope; many with superb skill. At the southern end of the beach was the campsite, where we dropped our packs and watched an elegant white-faced heron stalk a small fish through a tannin-stained creek the colour of whisky.

Faced with such stunning scenery, it’s hard to conjure an image of Refuge Cove’s darker side. Early Europeans ran whaling and sealing operations from this very spot, and they were a rough crew indeed. There are tales of them dressing up as evil spirits to frighten off attacks from the Boonerwrung and Gunai people, and they hunted the Australian fur seal almost to extinction. Today, whale ribs and vertebrae are scattered around camp, reproachful reminders of those unruly days.

Did the sealers see this place as beautiful, or just as a wild, lonely spot at the bottom of the Earth? As we sat in camp listening to birdsong mingle with the sounds of crashing waves, I decided that even the hardened heart of a rough-as-guts sealer couldn’t possibly have been impervious to the beauty here.

For the full article, see Issue 97 of Australian Geographic.