MOT Tour Day 34 - Wineglass Bay Cruise

The Hazards from Coles Bay wharf

We had seen Wineglass Bay from high up on the saddle between Mt Amos and Mt Mayson. Bathed in sunlight, the beautiful curve of its white sandy beach and the sentinel cliff faces to the south, made it a bewitching sight.

Today, we went there.

On an overcast day which kept the sun filtered to a dulled light, we left Coles Bay about mid morning, travelling with Wineglass Bay Cruises. None of the crew or the skipper were more than half the age of any of the passengers. Make of that fact what you will. Our section of the boat was individualised lunches and morning tea, personal attention and an open bar. The latter seemed more important than the scenery to some, especially two couples celebrating wedding anniversaries. 

Travelling into and down the larger Oyster Bay, it didn't take long to record highlights. First we saw a huge school of bait fish breaking the water and then a massive collection of common dolphins - several pods we were told - were undertaking a feeding frenzy off Refuge Island, adjacent to Hazards Beach. We probably saw thirty or forty dolphins and once they had seen us, the majority swam towards and then along side us.

Refuge Island provided safety when a ketch was shipwrecked nearby, according to our skipper, although I can find no record. Nearby, a couple of resident Australian Fur Seals lolled about, waiting for us to arrive and snap photos. A giant and very old sea eagle nest, said to weigh over a tonne, hung suspended in the fork of a tall, dead tree.

The long Hazard's Beach, on the western side of the isthmus to Wineglass Bay, is named after an African American whaling captain who ran whaling enterprises here in 1824 and his name is also on the group of mountains on the northern end of the peninsular.

The largest of the mountains in the area, Mount Freycinet loomed into view as we prepared to pass

The sea facing cliffs 

below Mt Freycinet

Bryan's Beach and the transition from bay to the Tasman Sea. We would achieve that by passing through the passage between the peninsular and Schouten Island. It was here things started to become awkward, for the swell from the Tasman became apparent and the current picked up. Where things had been a calm roll, they now became the occasional low slap and vibration of the hulls coming down hard on waves. Crew assured us by insisting it was such a gentle swell. I shudder to think how it is on rough days.

With increased speed and judicious steering, things improved once we left Point Degerando and began our transit of Slaughterhouse Bay, the first and biggest of the openings in the wall of rock to our left and almost certainly a whaling reference. I may have been okay, even after the first of the vomiting struck down a fellow passenger, but after inspecting some sea caves, a sudden surge into the teeth of the swell and the feeling like we were going in three directions at once, unhinged me and it was all hands on deck not to join the ranks of the fallen.

Meanwhile, we saw sea caves in the rock face at close hand and waterfalls running down the face of the cliffs and an area where the cliff had been used as a sea-accessed quarry. All quite amazing.

Wineglass Bay was a relief, for it didn't matter what we saw beside us or what interesting anecdote was told, I was concentrating on nothing but keeping my cornflakes where I had put them this morning. I didn't have the stomach to risk lunch but spent the time reminding myself of the scenery and using open-eye meditation.

Sue, affected by nothing, was living the dream, so I kept my discomfort mostly to myself.

Wineglass Bay derives its name somewhat from its shape. Back in the whaling days, lookouts were posted to the high cliffs to spot whales swimming out to sea. The whales were harpooned and bought back to the bay, where they slaughtered, turning the water red from their blood. The lookouts said it made the bay look like a glass of red wine.

After lunch, we went further out to sea. This time, bottle nosed dolphins joined us and albatross, albatross, get yer bleeding albatross. Gannets were diving for a late lunch where the dolphins were feeding but there was a price to pay for the viewing and lunch was lost for those unfortunate or silly enough to have eaten a dozen oysters.

My afternoon improved enough for me to appreciate my surroundings. I even spoke to a few people.

Click here for today's photos

By the time we docked, I was hungry, so we went to the pub which is about twenty metres from our van door in the caravan park and a plate of hot chips and a cold beer were my compensation.

Its no reflection on the quality of the tour - which was first rate - but Sue and I felt the image of Wineglass Bay from the lookout yesterday was better than the experience today. Not by much. Would I recommend it to others? Certainly. Highly professional crew and very good value for money.