While crocs up to 8 metres (26 feet) long encased in a leathery skin bearing 66 sharp teeth are found in the waters of Northern Australia (1), they are also plastic shoes with holes in them usually found on store shelves or feet. Perhaps the crocks that I am referring to should also be placed on shelves, but they persist on being free to roam.
Colloquially, in Oz (that's Australia for those on the other side of the pond), crocks are aged, decrepit and broken-down things - including human beings. Sadly, I’m increasingly finding that I am joining that "baby boomer" queue towards decrepitude and crockdom.
The plural in the title "Whitewater Crocks" means that I have teamed up with my old mate, Ian "Humzoo" Thomas for another climbing adventure. Ian and I have a long climbing history going back to 1972, some of it shared here in the pages of Common Climber:
Zoo, a little younger than me, has a metal scaffold in his back that would rival the Eiffel Tower. It was placed there after slipping over on an icy boardwalk in the Cradle Mountain National Park. After a long rehabilitation, Zoo was back on easy rock. Conveniently, he resides in Launceston, a city within a stone’s throw of many of Tasmania’s premier crags.
Since I am now pressured by vision and balance problems owing to long term Glaucoma (2), Zoo has metamorphosed into my Tasmanian guide and it was he who led me astray (willingly) to Whitewater Wall on the Freycinet Peninsula on the East Coast of Tasmania.
In truth, I had hoped to climb on this wall in 2021 during my earlier trip onto Rysavy Ridge but the East Coast Low that tracked me from Sydney to Tasmania enabled the area to live up to its name; waves were crashing above the second pitches of the climbs on the wall. The power and magnitude of that East Coast Low is dramatically shown in the accompanying video.
Colloquially, in Oz (that's Australia for those on the other side of the pond), crocks are aged, decrepit and broken-down things - including human beings. Sadly, I’m increasingly finding that I am joining that "baby boomer" queue towards decrepitude and crockdom.
The plural in the title "Whitewater Crocks" means that I have teamed up with my old mate, Ian "Humzoo" Thomas for another climbing adventure. Ian and I have a long climbing history going back to 1972, some of it shared here in the pages of Common Climber:
- Zac the Interloper
- Tombstone Territory
- Throng of Roland
- Sojourn at Dyurrite
- Reflections in Black and White (Common Climber Anthology, pages 82-86)
Zoo, a little younger than me, has a metal scaffold in his back that would rival the Eiffel Tower. It was placed there after slipping over on an icy boardwalk in the Cradle Mountain National Park. After a long rehabilitation, Zoo was back on easy rock. Conveniently, he resides in Launceston, a city within a stone’s throw of many of Tasmania’s premier crags.
Since I am now pressured by vision and balance problems owing to long term Glaucoma (2), Zoo has metamorphosed into my Tasmanian guide and it was he who led me astray (willingly) to Whitewater Wall on the Freycinet Peninsula on the East Coast of Tasmania.
In truth, I had hoped to climb on this wall in 2021 during my earlier trip onto Rysavy Ridge but the East Coast Low that tracked me from Sydney to Tasmania enabled the area to live up to its name; waves were crashing above the second pitches of the climbs on the wall. The power and magnitude of that East Coast Low is dramatically shown in the accompanying video.
ABOVE: Huge waves created by the East Coast Low hitting Whitewater Wall in March 2021. Apline is approximately where the wave reaches its highest point on the cliff. (Video 20 seconds, Credit: Matthew Yaeger)
As we drove southeast from Launceston there were reports of a bad fire to the north of the peninsula. About 20 kilometres from Coles Bay, the main town on the peninsula, we sighted thick smoke drifting across the road. Given the radio reports we thought at some stage we would encounter a road block. What else could blow our way?
Coles Bay seemed a fitting destination considering that the range of mountains viewed across the bay are called The Hazards. Pestilence (Covid), big storms, and now fires... perhaps a flood or tsunami would be next?
Although the drive was slow-going, once through the smoke we had a clear run to Coles Bay.
Upon reaching the town the first thing we did was to take in the visual and climbing splendour of The Hazards before some cataclysmic event occurred. With this safely completed, we retired to the nearby café for what we thought was a well-deserved cup of espresso. Imagine our disappointment when the so-called Barista said he could only serve the powdered form of coffee that starts with an N and ends with an e. True to his word, that is what he served – and into the bargain, it was lukewarm.
Now I am not one to complain, but I did. Zoo went one step further; he sent his back to have some more heat injected into it. The embarrassed Barista then explained that the fire that we had passed had cut off the electricity to the town – fair enough. But I'm still not so sure about paying full espresso prices for luke warm powder.
While leaving the Café we were accosted by a young, breathless ABC (Australian Broadcasting Commission) journalist who excitedly asked us:
“What was the worst thing about the fire that you have experienced in the town?”
We looked directly into her eyes and both replied that we had just been served the worst cup of coffee that we had ever had the misfortune to drink. She paused for a brief second with a mildly confused look. No scoop here, so the reporter rushed by, no doubt searching for death, devastation, and destruction in the quiet, espresso-free town.
Onward to our ultimate destination...
Coles Bay seemed a fitting destination considering that the range of mountains viewed across the bay are called The Hazards. Pestilence (Covid), big storms, and now fires... perhaps a flood or tsunami would be next?
Although the drive was slow-going, once through the smoke we had a clear run to Coles Bay.
Upon reaching the town the first thing we did was to take in the visual and climbing splendour of The Hazards before some cataclysmic event occurred. With this safely completed, we retired to the nearby café for what we thought was a well-deserved cup of espresso. Imagine our disappointment when the so-called Barista said he could only serve the powdered form of coffee that starts with an N and ends with an e. True to his word, that is what he served – and into the bargain, it was lukewarm.
Now I am not one to complain, but I did. Zoo went one step further; he sent his back to have some more heat injected into it. The embarrassed Barista then explained that the fire that we had passed had cut off the electricity to the town – fair enough. But I'm still not so sure about paying full espresso prices for luke warm powder.
While leaving the Café we were accosted by a young, breathless ABC (Australian Broadcasting Commission) journalist who excitedly asked us:
“What was the worst thing about the fire that you have experienced in the town?”
We looked directly into her eyes and both replied that we had just been served the worst cup of coffee that we had ever had the misfortune to drink. She paused for a brief second with a mildly confused look. No scoop here, so the reporter rushed by, no doubt searching for death, devastation, and destruction in the quiet, espresso-free town.
Onward to our ultimate destination...
The view from the shoreline of Coles Bay looking across to (L to R) Mts., Dove, Amos and Mayson. (Photo Credit: Keith Bell)
The smooth bitumen road continued towards the coast. After checking out the stunning views from Cape Tourville, we backtracked to an unsealed sandy road heading north to our destination.
Soon we arrived at the campsite set amid coastal heath and open woodland. In the past, climbers had camped on the rim of the wall. Today, the more environmentally friendly camping sites are located on the lee-side of the cliff top.
Soon we arrived at the campsite set amid coastal heath and open woodland. In the past, climbers had camped on the rim of the wall. Today, the more environmentally friendly camping sites are located on the lee-side of the cliff top.
The campsite amid coastal heath nestled in open woodland. (Photo Credit: Keith Bell)
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Ian setting up the abseil down the corner. Whitewater Wall is the slab on the right. Note the aplite dyke splitting the bench below. (Photo Credit: Keith Bell)
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We set up our tents on a sandy flat, which also came with a convenient table and a nearby long-drop toilet (aka. a pit toilet in the U.S.). There was only one other camper – a lone bushwalker.
The next morning, we explored the top of the wall and checked out the abseil anchor used to reach the base. At the same time we inspected the incoming sets of waves for any rogues (3), as these could be dangerous on the exposed sea level platform that led to the climbs. We ate lunch before dropping down an obvious corner on the northern boundary of Whitewater Wall.
Zoo went first before I followed him down the broken corner. A convenient ledge formed by large boulders allowed us to move - with waves lapping at our feet - across to our selected climb Apline.
The next morning, we explored the top of the wall and checked out the abseil anchor used to reach the base. At the same time we inspected the incoming sets of waves for any rogues (3), as these could be dangerous on the exposed sea level platform that led to the climbs. We ate lunch before dropping down an obvious corner on the northern boundary of Whitewater Wall.
Zoo went first before I followed him down the broken corner. A convenient ledge formed by large boulders allowed us to move - with waves lapping at our feet - across to our selected climb Apline.
Apline, 70 metres/230 feet (12/5.4) After setting up a belay - and while I carefully watched the waves - Zoo started leading up the dyke. Heading rightwards towards the sun he moved easily up the beautiful sunlit white crystalline granite rock below the dyke to reach a shallow belay alcove after a 30-metre (~100 feet) lead.
My turn: nice little solid jugs came to hand as I moved up this delightful wall. The weather and the rock was perfect. All too soon I was beside Zoo. We swapped gear, and it was my turn to lead. While my eyesight is not good, I can still drive (sort of). My main challenge with climbing is seeing footholds clearly, due to a lack of depth perception. Apline, with it's juggy, prominant features, was the perfect climb for me. The rock above soon steepened and the gear placements were somewhat sparse. After about 15-metres I found a nice alcove and decided to set up a belay. Zoo was out of sight owing to the steeper rock between us. After hauling in the rope, he was soon beside me on the stance. |
The delightful slab of Whitewater Wall - another icon of Tasmanian climbing. (Photo Credit: Keith Bell)
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ABOVE: Click on photos to enlarge and read captions.
Having climbed the route many times, Zoo suggested that I lead to the top. We swapped the belay and I moved diagonally right through a series of discontinuous cracks towards the abseil corner before topping out.
While setting up the final belay, I had a little time to reflect - taking in the view and experience - I had notched another icon of Tasmanian climbing with a really great mate. We were, indeed, two crocks: One, with eyesight problems, had seen his way clear to ascend the climb; The other, with a broken back and metal parts holding it together, had hauled his frame up it again.
The Crocks on the Rocks had triumphed and it was time to celebrate.
After Humzoo reached the top, we wandered over to our campsite, packed everything, and then hightailed it into Coles Bay for a celebratory cup of coffee. All power to the Barista, the brew was perfect this time.
While setting up the final belay, I had a little time to reflect - taking in the view and experience - I had notched another icon of Tasmanian climbing with a really great mate. We were, indeed, two crocks: One, with eyesight problems, had seen his way clear to ascend the climb; The other, with a broken back and metal parts holding it together, had hauled his frame up it again.
The Crocks on the Rocks had triumphed and it was time to celebrate.
After Humzoo reached the top, we wandered over to our campsite, packed everything, and then hightailed it into Coles Bay for a celebratory cup of coffee. All power to the Barista, the brew was perfect this time.
(1) Estaurine crocodiles or ‘Salties’ are estimated to live to 70 years of age: adult males on average are five metres long and weigh 450 kilograms. Females are much smaller and average about three metres long and weigh 150 kilograms. The largest saltwater crocodile ever measured was 8.64 metres long and weighed over 2000 kilograms.
(2) Glaucoma: The nerve connecting the eye to the brain is slowly damaged due to high eye pressure. Over time it can lead to blindness but is able to be controlled with drops. Any damage though is irreversible and the condition cannot be cured. Glaucoma is painless and can only be diagnosed by an optometrist or opthamologist. It is called the "silent thief of sight" and often there is a family history present.
(3) Rogue Waves are unusually large and unpredictable surface waves that can be extremely dangerous to surfers, rock fisherman as well as climbers on rock platforms near the sea. "Rogues" do not appear to have a single distinct cause but occur where physical factors such as high winds and strong currents merge waves into a single exceptionally large wave.
(4) Aplite : An Aplite is an intrusive igneous rock that has a granitic composition. Aplites are fine-grained without grains visible to the naked eye and may consist of only quartz and feldspar. It is light coloured usually ranging from white to light grey.
(2) Glaucoma: The nerve connecting the eye to the brain is slowly damaged due to high eye pressure. Over time it can lead to blindness but is able to be controlled with drops. Any damage though is irreversible and the condition cannot be cured. Glaucoma is painless and can only be diagnosed by an optometrist or opthamologist. It is called the "silent thief of sight" and often there is a family history present.
(3) Rogue Waves are unusually large and unpredictable surface waves that can be extremely dangerous to surfers, rock fisherman as well as climbers on rock platforms near the sea. "Rogues" do not appear to have a single distinct cause but occur where physical factors such as high winds and strong currents merge waves into a single exceptionally large wave.
(4) Aplite : An Aplite is an intrusive igneous rock that has a granitic composition. Aplites are fine-grained without grains visible to the naked eye and may consist of only quartz and feldspar. It is light coloured usually ranging from white to light grey.