Chapter 14 - The Great Ocean Road

The Great Ocean Road - is it a great road along an average ocean or a great ocean next to an average road? It was a topic of discussion and one we debated heavily as our car travelled south-west out of the city towards Torquay. This was the second instalment of my Easter week adventure and I was thoroughly looking forward to it. Having arrived back from Bendigo, Skip had fed me and then shipped me off to LJ's as he had some interviews to attend. It is difficult as a traveller, as you do not wish to burden people with your presence, but then any opportunity to spend a night in a bed not infested with cockroaches must be ceased upon. Mel and I hadn't exactly asked Lisa-Jayne for her hospitality, instead we had merely subtly implied that it would be a large help to us and our diminishing funds. The fact that she had a lovely suburban home with a swimming pool may have swayed our decision ever so slightly too. Anyway, we spent an enjoyable couple of days visiting good shopping spots around Melbourne as well as seeing the Gaol where Ned Kelly was hanged, before Mel flew to Cairns to continue her travels around Australia. I was sad to see her leave as her energetic and optimistic outlook had never failed to cheer me up. But more than that, I envied her incredible lifestyle
'Where are you going to stay when you get to Cairns' I had asked her
'Lisa's got some grandparents up there and she's arranged for me to have a bed at their place while I get settled down. But after that - who knows? I'll go wherever the wind takes me'
Many people may view this as a rather wasteful lifestyle adopted by those unsure of their role in life. But I saw it as an incredibly brave adventure conducted by someone unwilling to waste her life in an office. She travelled from place to place until she got bored, and then simply moved on - what could be more rewarding than that? Drifters like Mel should not be looked down upon and pitied by society, but instead admired - for they are the only people daring enough to live life to the full. Everyone dreams of carpe diem, but little do we realise that it's only people like Mel who can truly achieve it. I hoped I would see her again on my travels. Now though, I had my own mini-adventure to conduct.

Being locals to the area, LJ and Tess had travelled along The Great Ocean road many times as children, but had since become oblivious to its charm. It’s understandable really as most people never really appreciate the something that’s on their doorstep – here I was touring Australia and I hadn’t ever been to Scotland. With my tourist-like enthusiasm acting as a catalyst, both seemed to have had their wilted spirit restored as we embarked on the trip with a great sense of anticipation. Stretching for over 300km, the road provides debatably the most spectacular coastline scenery in the world, through an area incorporating world-famous surf beaches, the Otways rainforest and (le pièce de résistance) the lighthouse from ‘Round the Twist’. With the surfboards loaded on LJ’s roof-rack, we arrived at the road’s gateway in Torquay. Taking advantage of its status as a famous surfing town, the streets were dominated by commercial billboards advertising expensive beach merchandise none of us could afford. Each of the famous brands had its own huge, extravagantly built department store which we looked around with interest. Deciding that food for the next two months was a far greater priority, I resisted the temptation to purchase a pair of overpriced board-shorts even though the devilishly attractive assistant insisted I should. Apparently they would’ve made me look like ‘a spunk’ on the beach, but I don’t think she’d noticed my freakishly white skin. Escaping the prowl of these dangerously, irresistible sales women, we jumped back in the car quickly and sped off along The Surfcoast Highway. ………….

………………This first section of The Surfcoast Highway was inland by about 1km and so provided quite an anti-climax for the start of The Great Ocean Road, despite providing some charming countryside views. It was just the lack of ocean that worried us slightly, however this all changed upon arrival at Anglesea. Hoping to take part in some water sports, we soon found ourselves a quiet little beach just west of the town. Having unloaded the boards, we were just preparing for my first lesson when the sun suddenly disappeared and the heavens opened from above. Having not seen much rain for months, Victoria was certainly trying to make up for it now. Running back to the car, Tessa shouted back at me
‘Johnny Boy, where the hell are you going?’
‘Into the car – it’s raining!’ I shouted back, surprised at her question
‘Don’t be such a Pommie wimp! Come on, the rain won’t hurt you’
‘It’s bloody freezing! You’re ok, you’ve got a wet suit on – I’ve just got my feeble English skin’
‘Come on, surfing in the rain is way more fun anyway. You’re going to get wet in the water so what’s the problem? Plus, sharks never attacked people when it’s raining so you’ll be fine’
She had a good point – not about the sharks, but about the whole ‘getting wet’ scenario, plus I admired her perseverance so decided to give the surfing a shot. Luckily, one of her friends had joined us and she just happened to be a qualified instructor which was rather convenient. Lying on a surfboard drawn in the wet sand, I acted out her instructions on how to ‘catch a wave’ and the technique for standing up. I wasn’t sure why I was learning how to stand up, as I was convinced that such a complex skill would be beyond me. Quite naively though, I though it all seemed rather simple. A little too simple perhaps, but I was still full of optimism as I ran towards the rough looking sea. Then I remembered the sharks and stopped in my tracks
‘Tess?’
‘Yes’
‘Are there any sharks around? It seems a little stupid to use a beach without a shark net’
‘You’ve got nothing to worry about – just put the thought of sharks out of your mind. They don’t even like the taste of humans anyway and usually only eat an arm’
‘That’s really put my mind at rest – thank you. But seriously, have there been many attacks around here?’
‘None for years that I’ve heard of’
‘Right there are two things in that reply that worry me. For starts you said ‘not for years’ which suggests there have been some before, which in turn suggests that sharks like it around here. The other thing you said is ‘that I’ve heard of’ which, since you don’t read the newspapers, makes your statement irrelevant’
‘Just get on your board and shut up’
She was right of course – I mean, why worry about going into water infested with something generally considered to be the greatest hunter on the planet. Some people may even refer to it as ‘the perfect killing machine’ but of course it’s probably just misunderstood. With ten other surfers in the sea however, I calculated that my chances of being taken were only 10% even if a shark did attack and so began paddling out towards the breaking waves. This in itself may seem like a relatively straight forward exercise, especially when watching the professionals from the beach, nevertheless I soon discovered that it was deceivingly difficult. Having been embarrassingly flipped over a couple of times by breaking waves it became apparent that your timing was imperative. Unfortunately, it appeared that mine wasn’t. Every time I thought it was a good opportunity to paddle out, another wave would pick me up and ceremoniously dump me upside down into the water below. Imagine (if you will) going to play basketball and then realising in front of loads of onlookers that you can’t even catch a ball and you can start to gauge the sort of humiliation I was feeling. Like a mother helping her child who’s just dribbled all down himself, Tessa thankfully came to the rescue and got me out into the sea so I could finally excel. Obviously I didn’t, but I was a lot better than my efforts to paddle out would suggest. The highlight came towards the end when, after a number of failed attempts, I almost stood up. Looking out to sea, I had seen one particularly large wave approaching and prepared myself for it carefully. Spinning my board around quickly and paddling as fast as my arms could manage, I was picked up by its incredible power. With a sudden burst of energy, I was flying along at what felt like a hundred miles an hour. Grabbing the sides of the board, I pulled myself up and was just about to let out a triumphant cheer when my foot slipped, I fell backwards the board shot out from underneath me. Emerging from the freezing sea and coughing up pints of salt water, I attempted to get my bearings but before I could, another gigantic wave took out its fury on my head. This pattern of events inevitably continued until I was eventually beached on the sandy shoreline like a piece of discarded driftwood. And that, I’m afraid to say, is as good as it got. It was great fun though and I was slightly disappointed when the experience was cut short due to a large rash developing on my chest caused by the abrasion of the board. Thinking about it, I had probably been tempting fate earlier in the day by claiming ‘rash vests were for wimps’. I’ll know never to make that mistake again.

After having some food in a café made entirely out of corrugated iron, we continued on our trip from Anglesea towards Lorne. Immediately, all the doubts I had concerning the greatness of this road were forgotten as we embarked on some of the finest scenery I have ever seen. Hugging the ocean for the entire span, the road meandered round the steep cliffs. As dusk approached, the subtle light accentuated the definition between the contrasting green cliffs and powerful grey sea creating an incredible backdrop. The road was so close to the sea in points that, as I peered out of the car window, it almost felt like we were driving through the raging waves. Rounding a headland, the sun began to set and the clouded skies were illuminated creating an awe inspiring red and purple canvas above our heads. Asking LJ to pull over, I jumped out and captured the image before it vanished for all of eternity. Taking a moment to gather my thoughts, I looked out across the swirling ocean which seemed have calmed since earlier. Instead of waves crashing into the cliff below, the whole sea seemed to be rocking periodically in elegant unison. As the light dissolved, the intricate details of the massive cliffs became clear as they provided a perfect framework for this overpowering picture. With such attention to detail, God had blatantly been swigging Red Bull just before designing this small corner of the Earth. Unfortunately, night fall was approaching and LJ was keen to get on. We continued past The Split Point lighthouse where ‘Round the Twist’ was filmed and onto Lorne – described as the Surfer’s Paradise of The Great Ocean Road. I could see why people would say that, although the overall feel was ever so slightly more tasteful. Desperate to get to a camping site before nightfall though, we drove through relatively quickly and didn’t get a chance to experience it enough to pass any significant judgement. Continuing along this glorious costal road, we eventually arrived at a small settlement called Wye River where we set up camp near the beach and squeezed into a tiny two man tent for some well deserved rest…………….

………………………We then faced a dilemma – turn left and travel directly south to the Cape Otway Lighthouse, or continue on our path towards The Twelve Apostles? I had read quite a bit of literature concerning the lighthouse which was the longest running on mainland Australia until it was decommissioned in 1994. Constructed in 1846, it was seen as an essential piece of engineering to help ships on their difficult and dangerous journey through the windswept western gateway of the Bass Straight known as ‘The Eye of the Needle’. However, since the next region of shoreline was known as ‘The Shipwreck Coast’ it appears all their efforts may well have been in vain. Still, it was a nice symbol and represented an important piece of Australian maritime heritage so I was quite keen to see it. Unfortunately the others were not and I was subsequently outvoted. Still, it gave us time to enjoy a relaxing lunch in a delightful little bakery in Johanna before setting off for the real tourist attractions.

The power of marketing is a wonder to behold. Nobody thinks they are taken in by it, yet we all are. Here we were making a 200km pilgrimage so we could have our photos taken in front of some limestone stacks. When you think about it that way, it seems like pure and utter madness. I’m sure we all loved studying the processes of erosion in geography class, but making such efforts just to witness its effects seems a little extreme. Prior to the 1950s when the world wasn’t dominated by such media propaganda, these stone stacks, standing 20-30 metres from the shoreline, were simply known as ‘The Sow and Piglets’. However, looking for a more appealing name in order to boost tourism in the area, this was soon changed to ‘The 12 Apostles’ despite the fact that there were only 9 of them. But my God did it work. I was expecting a small lay-by, perhaps with a roadside hot-dog van and a tiny platform on which to take photos. Instead, there was a huge car park in the shadow of the ultra-modern visitor centre and hundreds of metres of intricate walkways linking many look-out-points. No wonder everybody I had met seemed to have an incredible photo of The Twelve Apostles – I just thought they had been adventurous enough to climb out onto the delicate cliffs, but it seems they had put in far less effort. On closer inspection though, I was pleasantly surprised to see that these amendments had been implemented with a large amount of dignity. Thankfully, the visitor centre was not a hoard of cheap, tacky t-shirts featuring the statement ‘I love Victoria!’ but instead presented a number of elegant poems written about this astonishing coastline. As we crossed the road, I suddenly began to get quite excited by the prospect just in front of me and realised just how strong the effects of their powerful advertising had been. Having seen so many photos, I suppose I had developed a strange sense of familiarity with the scene, even though I had never visited before. There they were in front of me – The 12 Apostles standing proud and solid amidst the crashing waves on the inaccessible and untouched beach below. The wind was so strong that we all had to hold onto the railings to stop ourselves being knocked over, which gave testament to the extreme conditions this stretch of coast lashes out for those hoping to sail it. I wouldn’t describe the sight as divine like many people, but thinking about what these stone stacks had achieved was certainly inspiring. Unlike the rest of the cliffs around them, these small pillars of strength had not fallen into the sea beneath. Under continuous, immense pressure they had been tough and defiant in the face of adversity. For me, they were not a mythical symbol of religious descent, more importantly, they were a defining example of resilience, courage and spirit. As if to reiterate my point, I recently read that one of the largest ones has fallen down. It seems strange to name something that is slowly eroding away after such important religious icons, although thinking about, it probably provides a good representation of how our modern society is changing.

In 1878, the Loch Ard ship set sail from England on its way to Melbourne. It took about three months before the passengers on board saw the great land of Australia from deck. Relief short lived, imagine their dismay when, just a few miles from entering the Bass Strait, they hit a patch of dense fog. I think you know that luck is not on your side if, having just entered an area of ocean known as ‘Shipwreck Coast’ you have your visibility cut to just a few metres. It would be like wondering into a bear trap testing field blindfolded, which I think you’ll agree is a situation nobody wants to find themselves in. So, it is no surprise (although I’m sure it was to the passengers) to hear that the ship never made it to Melbourne and instead crashed into a reef just off Mutton Bird Island. With a strong, swirling ocean pounding the hull, the ship sank within fifteen minutes preventing any life boats being launched effectively. Shockingly, only 2 of the 54 on board survived. One was an apprentice named Tom Pearce who, having found himself washed ashore in a small cove swam back out to sea in order to save a screaming women named Eva Carmichael. Alive but deserted and cold, the two found themselves on small beach just ten minutes west of The Twelve Apostles, and this is where we found ourselves now. When we got out of the car and walked across the headland, there was an eerie silence in the air. Now named after the wreck, Loch Ard Gorge is a fabulous place to view the extremities of costal erosion. High above the devastating ocean below, we had a fabulous view of the caves, arches and stacks being carefully carved by the relentless sea. Seeing the extent of this damage only made the survivors’ story seem even more miraculous. The beach itself was a tiny circular cove, surrounded almost entirely by steep cliffs with only a small gap for the sea to approach. Modern steps has been built down to the beach, however these obviously wouldn’t have been presented when Eva and Tom were washed ashore here. I tried to imagine what it must’ve been like for them and how (in a cruel twist of fate) their spirits would have been crushed having discovered that they had been washed into an impenetrable cove. As far as I could see, the only feasible escape route would’ve been back the way they had entered. To this day, I still do not know how they escaped but it is an interesting problem to try and contemplate. Still, although I had read the story and was standing in its menacing setting, the reality of it had not registered with me entirely. I suppose I treated it the same way was some kind of mythical legend. Then, we came across the graves of four of the unfortunate and the reality of it became hauntingly apparent. The mood was suddenly very sombre. In a somewhat ironic act of nature, the sun then appeared, brightly illuminating the golden sand and transforming the sea into a warm bath of turquoise. It was hard to believe what sinister acts it was capable of.

With time running out we made one final stop just down the coast at ‘The London Arch’. As the name suggests, it is a huge limestone arch located in the middle of the ocean. I had never seen waves this big in my life, and although we were sixty or seventy metres above the beach, the destructive force of the waves could be felt as their crushing vibrations transferred up through the cliffs and into my feet. The power they portrayed was simply devastating.
‘Those waves are so powerful’ I mused with LJ
‘Yeah, you can see how strong they are just there’ pointing at the arch ‘it used to be called ‘London Bridge’, but the bridge collapsed back in 1990 and trapped some tourists!’
‘Really? Was anyone killed?’
‘No, thankfully nobody was walking across the bridge when it collapsed, but the tourists had to get rescued by helicopter. It just goes to show how much force those waves possess’
With that, we jumped back in the car and started back for Melbourne. It had been a wonderful few days allowing me to experience majestic scenery, exciting legends and the thrill of (almost) riding the waves. The answer to my very first question was now blatantly apparent - this was a great road next to a great ocean.

The next week we were back in Licola for the last few days of the season. Our last camp was cancelled, so we spent our week reflecting on the past few months. Ending the season in style, we purchased all the alcohol the shop could provide and danced the night away! With no neighbours around, we could simply make as much noise as was humanly possible, which was all the encouragement I needed to get on the karaoke machine. Nevertheless, I was ultimately very sad to leave. This incredible little town in the mountains had provided me with the comfort and stability I associated with home. The people too had made Grant and I welcome, incorporating us in their very special Australian society. I appreciated everything they had all done for me and would miss them deeply, but it was time to take this country by storm and unlock some more of its secrets.