Tasmania: Tasman Peninsula
Christmas morning. We are in a special place which, at first glance, doesn’t seem all that special. But beneath us, the flat, rectangular-cut rocks called the Tessellated Pavements is a geologist’s wet dream, found only in a few places on earth.
The odd manmade-like structure is created not by a couple of bored Tasmanians armed with a hammer and a chisel like I had imagined, but by millions of years of crystallization and erosion. Its significance, however, is lost on the boys, who are amusing themselves with a tangle of seaweed.
The rock is teeming with life. While the boys searched for crabs between the crevices, we treaded gingerly across neon green lichen, brown barnacles and black mussels. The air is bracing and salty, and we felt like David Attenborough on a mission.
Several minutes away by car is a bushwalk that led us past soaring cliffs and gaping chasms. The ocean churned violently and relentlessly below as it did since the beginning of time, simultaneously sculpting the earth and ripping it apart, leading to the formation of geological wonders such as the Blowhole, the Devil’s Kitchen and the Tasman Arch.
It is hard to believe that a place of unimaginable beauty such as this would have a chilling back story.
But due to its remote location, the Tasman Peninsula — particularly the 19th-century convict settlement of Port Arthur — was once known as ‘hell on earth’ to the tens of thousands who lived and toiled there under inhumane conditions.
These people were the crème de la crème of hardened criminals, shipped from all over the Australian mainland from the 1830s, to carry out their sentences in a place filled with punishment, misery and labour so back-breaking that China’s garment factories seem like Shangri-la in comparison.
Following numerous escapes from the penal station, General George Arthur — the prison’s sadistic founder whose ideas for punishment fall only slightly short of macing someone up the butt — ordered sentries to be stationed at the narrowest part of the peninsula. The Dog-Line and its vicious bloodhounds that kept guard at Eaglehawk Neck has all disappeared today, but you can still visit the bleak and barren Officers Quarters and read about the place’s depressing history.
Lunchtime rolled around, and nothing was open save for the two cafes in town — one of which was filled with miserable-looking tourists, taking the convict experience a little too far by ordering plates heaped with miserable-looking, prison-worthy food.
We ended up having lunch across the road, at the Port Arthur General Store and Takeaway, and were served by an ambitious man and his wife, whose many virtues include putting their children to work on a Christmas afternoon and serving up a great burger for unsuspecting tourists, who mistakenly assume the only things worth buying in the store are the Disney plush toys and kitschy souvenirs.
We checked into the NRMA Port Arthur Holiday Park. Our two-bedroom cabin had a big balcony overlooking the woods and we had plenty of animal friends dropping by throughout the day. A short jaunt away is Stewarts Bay, a sheltered forest-fringed cove where families swim and picnic.
Port Arthur also happens to be the unlikely location for what seemed like island’s only ye olde English pub. The Fox and Hounds Inn Restaurant has a cozy, all-wooden interior and a not-so-English menu featuring mainly pizzas and anything parmigiana. Dinner was a slight improvement from eating at a general store, and we toasted with glasses of plain water instead of drinks from the extensive alcohol list.
The next day, we went to the Port Arthur Historic Site, a World Heritage Property and Tasmania’s tourism megastar. This 40-hectare complex is impeccably run by a rotating shift of tour guides, and their tales of torture and suffering draws dark tourists from all corners of the globe.
Port Arthur is a place filled with stories.
We were each given a card at the start of the tour, and these cards gave us a glimpse into the lives of the different characters who were incarcerated here.
The punishments usually outweighed the crimes — one poor, unfortunate soul called Henry Singleton was sentenced to 14 years of prison — and later, solitary confinement — for stealing shirts and it made me wonder if Winona Ryder or Britney Spears would’ve benefited from a similar treatment.
We hadn’t realized just how big the property was until we found ourselves hobbling from site to site as the sun turned its judgmental glare on us.
There was the remains of a church, where convicts had to undergo a strict regime of religious instruction and worship. There was Point Puer, the wretched island where children as young as 9 who were convicted of various misdemeanours lived. There was the ruins of the Penitentiary, where the inmates slept, ate and worked — cutting and hauling timber or stone — close by with 10-kilo shackles on their feet.
But perhaps the miserable place of them all was the Separate Prison, a place where they flog your minds rather than bodies.
Here, the more incorrigible prisoners were called by their numbers rather than their names, and each man is locked up in total darkness and solitude for days on end, surviving only on bread and water. As a result, most of them ended up with mental health issues and had to be carted away to mental asylums. I don’t know if it was my imagination, but I felt an incredible sadness permeating the corridors, leaving a chill in my bones.
Our 4-year-old, however, has had enough, and was rolling around the floor of the Separate Prison chapel as if he was possessed by the ghosts of prisoners past. His only souvenir — the temporary convict tattoos that he had gotten from the Education Centre for Children — has been destroyed because of the infernal weather and he was livid.
We left not long after for a meal at 1830 Restaurant and Bar. Situated at the entrance of the Historic Site, 1830 is one of the finer restaurants in town, with dim lighting and a polite, well-dressed waitstaff.
With the hulking Penitentiary, bathed in warm orange glow of the setting sun, as a backdrop, we dined on a parade of good-looking Modern Australian dishes assembled with seasonal Tasmanian ingredients.
It was during dinner that my 6-year-old and I decided that we would like to visit Port Arthur after dark, on a 90-minute Ghost Tour.
After checking with my son repeatedly to see if he is sure about joining the tour and after getting plenty of affirmative answers, we joined 12 other Ghost Hunters enthusiasts and followed a lantern-wielding guide through the sprawling grounds. Everything was dark except for the site’s most prominent buildings, which were beautifully and atmospherically lit.
It was barely five minutes into the tour when my son began tugging at my shirt.
“Mommy, I’m scared,” he said in a small voice.
“Mika, I just parted with 30 bucks because you said you wanted to do this. Could you at least hold on for 10 more minutes?” I replied.
But no.
He was near hysterical by the time we were brought to The Personage, which is said to be the most haunted building in Port Arthur after stories of flashing lights, loud baggings and spooky sightings emerged. People were starting to look at me like I was a child abuser, so I had to be excused. Of course, the ordeal was far from over, for we had to wait in front of the Personage in pitch blackness — just the both of us — for a rescue vehicle.
The car finally pulled up and we both hopped in, feeling rather silly.
“So….does this usually happen? People quitting at the start of the tour?” I ask.
“I had to pick another couple up before you. That’s why I was late,” answered the lady.
“A couple of kids?”
“No, adults. A ghostly apparition appeared in the wife’s camera and she was spooked by it.”
Okayyyyyyyy. Thank you Mika, for saving us from crapping our pants.
After all the excitement of the night before, we were looking forward to a cruise with Pennicott Wilderness Journeys around the Tasman Island. Robert Pennicott and his son Noah were there themselves to welcome us in their bright yellow speedboat, and pretty soon we were zipping past the highest sea cliffs in the Southern Hemisphere and waterfalls, feeling sprays of salty seawater on our faces.
The scenery was surreal and the wildlife wildly entertaining, from the colony of seals frolicking in the ocean and penguins basking on the rocks below to the free-wheeling albatrosses and sea eagles above.
The wind and waves, however, started to pick up as the day progressed, and I soon found myself hyperventilating and clutching at the handlebars of a violently rocking boat. The intrepid Pennicott, however, remained unperturbed in the face of death as he looked out for migrating whales.
Our journey was becoming as relaxing as the ghost tour. Swallowing any pride that’s left after doing the ghost tour’s chicken exit, I finally yelped: “Turn back! I need to get off!”
A flash of disappointment crossed Pennicott’s weatherbeaten face, but he eventually relented since the tour was ending anyway. Once on land, I bid him a warm farewell, but not before thanking all the Gods and angels for our safe return.
We had lunch at Port Arthur Lavender, a lavender farm with its own cafe. While I thought the lavender hot chocolate tasted a little odd, the food here — including the hundredth plate of fish ’n’ chip we’ve had since landing in Tasmania — was okay.
There is an onsite shop which sells all things lavender, like lavender chutney, lavender skincare and — for the experimental alpha male who yawns at the sight of moisturizers and perfumes— lavender booze.
Of course, what we really wanted was a picture with the lavender fields, where the flowers bloomed in a bright, uniform purple. I ran to the middle and plopped down among the sea of lilac, allowing myself to drown in their scent and colors.
Because here it was, a little vacation from our vacation.
STAY
NRMA Port Arthur Holiday Park Choose from one- or two-bedroom cabins, safari tents or powered / unpowered sites in this family-friendly holiday park just a five minute drive away from the historic site of Port Arthur or a short stroll from the beach. Kids will love the playground and the small pump track for bikes. $$
TIPS
- You can visit Port Arthur on a daytrip from Hobart, but it is best to spend several nights to take in the magnificent surroundings and do a cruise.
- Your ticket to the Port Arthur Historic Site is valid for two consecutive days and includes a short cruise to Point Puer and a guided tour. However, there are other optional tours you can take for an extra fee. The very popular Port Arthur ghost tours are offered twice daily (except on Christmas day) and young children are allowed though not encouraged!
- The Pennicott Wilderness Journeys has several interesting cruise and hiking itineraries, but its signature Tasman Island Cruises offer the most dramatic scenery. The company provides a daily shuttle from Hobart to Port Arthur and return, so it’s still a good option even if you don’t have a car. It’s best to book in advance in the summer. Be sure to dress extra warmly no matter what season it is.
- Dining options are limited in Port Arthur. The best restaurants in Port Arthur tend to get booked up pretty quickly so try to RSVP in advance or stay in a self-catering accommodation.
- There are two well-known lavender farms in Tasmania: the Bridestowe Lavender Estate and Port Arthur Lavender. Blooming season is from December to February. Entry to Bridestowe costs $10, while entry to Port Arthur Lavender is free.
