Day: 6 (10th November 2024) 13.3km

Like every day on trail, we woke early, and rose reasonably early as well.

By now, our legs were feeling conditioned to the day to day of trail walking, whilst one of our packs was that bit lighter, with only a couple of days worth of food left for us to carry (Sarah had most of it, with much of my pack space lost to the tent).

At least things were getting easier for one of us (we’d also realised after a few days that I could strap the tent to the outside of the pack)!

The legs and lungs got to work early, with the trail almost immediately headed upward courtesy of more stone stairs followed by just the slope of the hill itself.

The end of the climb saw us emerge into open grassland, sweeping coastal views back whence we’d come, whilst a curious local mob observed us with amusement.

Having completed our ascent, the trail took us over our first fence stile, which of itself was a little confusing as we could walk around it (I can only assume a fence once stood there), before we entered some large wooded sections courtesy of a fire access trail.

Our first breather of the morning coincided with a nice viewing point back down along the coast, some large sea caves very visible and rather cool to sea.

For a little while, the track veered inland.

Not far from the coast (the sea was always audible), but far enough that it was regularly out of sight.

When it did eventually reappear in view, it certainly didn’t look half bad.

The next little stretch was fairly easy going, a couple of items of note being a small gully crossing, where a largely dry creek was crossing via a wooden bridge, surprisingly, its predecessor (possibly a remnant from a track re-route) visible only a few metres away, and the “Lost Apostle”, a somewhat disappointing rogue, rocky outcrop.

It’s mentioned in many track notes, however, it’s probably not worth getting too excited about!

A fallen tree across the path led to some trail gymnastics (when it probably would have been easier to simply take our packs off), but we managed to negotiate our way through, before ultimately finding the trail emerge in open grassland.

Our trail took a hard right, leaving the sea behind us as we began to follow a wire fence which skirted a clearly private property which necessitated the detour.

It wasn’t excited terrain (think open grazing land), but nor was it horrible to have a change of scenery, and the residents must have some pretty impressive sea views.

Eventually, the trail got back to business, heading into the bush again after we’d shadowed a road for a few minutes (I think it was Parkers Access Track), and hit our first boot wash station.

We’d heard of them, but this was the first we’d seen, a measure to try and combat the spread of the cinnamon fungus, or dieback.

It’s been especially devastating for the local Grass Trees, so after climbing another stile, it was boot washing time!

From this point, it was about 4km of bush trail, but it felt like it was a lot longer!

The trees grew tall, at times, the trail no longer packed earth, instead soft (or often crunchy) fallen bark, forming a natural carpet underfoot.

Small sections were almost fern lined rainforest, before we finally emerged into the open once more near The Gables, another small promontory jutting out into the sea.

From here it suggested a little under 4km to see us to the Devil’s Kitchen Campground, however a decision would need to be made first… unless the tides had already made it for us!

At the 2.9km to go mark, came our decision point.

Do we descend to Wreck Beach and journey to camp that way, or do we take the high trail, a surely easier task burdened with packs.

Wreck Beach, we didn’t want to miss, as down on its rocks below sit a couple of old, rusted anchors, relics from shipwrecks of years past.

Ultimately, the tide was far too high anyway, so we opted for the high road to get to camp, where we’d lunch and relax for the afternoon, before descending to the beach later from the camp (the route we would have had to clamber up had we taken the beach route) when the tide had relaxed somewhat.

The terrain varied with more rough, rocky path, exposed to the sun which was having us looking forward longingly towards camp and a rest, to something different, with long stretches of boardwalk lifting us off the ground, and (hopefully) protecting the grass trees that surrounded us.

It was another few kilometres that seemed a lot longer whilst on foot, than what was signed, but eventually we spotted a green sign up ahead.

To the left was the “Rescuers Track”, a 1km round trip to the Fiji monument, a cenotaph erected in memory of the ship of the same name which sunk off this coast in 1891, but directly ahead (like 50 metres) was camp.

We chose camp, planning to visit the monument later.

First into camp, we had the pick of the sites, choosing the one closest to the sea, with it’s own, pretty epic bench seat!

We got our boots off and thongs (flip-flops) on, lunched, set up camp, then decided it was a good time to check out the Fiji monument.

It certainly felt good to walk the distance unburdened by packs or boots, however, we quickly wished we were still wearing them when a rather large Brown (snake) appeared in our path.

Its interest lay not in us, however, it was certainly in no hurry, taking its sweet time to move on before we could pass!

I called it a cenotaph moments ago, but in reality, it was more a giant headstone, in a rather stunning, if remote location.

It’s hard to imagine how in storming weather, anyone could have gotten out here to aid the stricken vessel, especially in the late 19th century when so little settlement stood along this wild stretch of coast!

Back at camp, it was quite late in the afternoon (by which time a few others had drifted into camp), before we decided to make our other trek, the one down to Wreck Beach.

The weather was glorious, plus we figured the longer we left it, the lower the tide in any case.

We’d been airing our boots and drying our sweaty socks in the glorious sunshine, but decided we should probably don them again for this exercise, just in case the going was tricky on the descent, or climb back up.

Trees down. That was not on the bingo card! …but we managed to work our way around.

Down on the beach it felt much more wild, with soft sand, an ocean breeze and the pounding waves, not to mention we felt dwarfed as we gazed back up towards the clifftops and camp above.

Still, it was a lovely spot to be, and we had anchors to inspect!

That’s right, “anchors” plural, as another lies on these shores as well, that of an even earlier shipwreck, the Marie Gabrielle which sank in 1869.

I’m not sure what to expect, but how the Fiji anchor was displayed, was certainly a surprise!

Jutting up vertically like a crucifix, I later read it was erected thus in the 1960’s by local divers why blasted a hole in the rock, then used concrete.

How it dried under the tides, beats me!

That of the Marie Gabrielle was a lot more “Au naturel”

The water was still reasonably high for a low tide, but completely passable (we even ran into a couple who’d walked some distance from a carpark asking us where the beach led), but as we’d walked its shores, we experienced our first ever surge wave!

One of us managed to scramble to greater heights and evade most of the foam.

One of us, did not, copping a full splash of wave, and a pair of boots (and socks) that had been lovely sundried, was no longer…

Still, back at camp, with a really tasty dinner and incredible dinner views, we didn’t really have a care in the world!

* Reservations for each campsite was made via the Parks Victoria website and cost us $18.50 per site

Jump back to Day 5 of our Great Ocean Walk Adventure HERE

Continue to Day 7 of our Great Ocean Walk Adventure HERE