Pyramid Rock via SS Speke, Phillip Island, Victoria

Here we go. The first entry of the year! Are you feeling excited? Wondering what amazing things are going to be happening in the fiasco world? Lying awake at night dreaming of me wearing suspenders a beard?

Well, don’t get too carried away, as the year’s first post is a walk from last month and it’s affected by ‘kontinual neverending overblown blog syndrome’ (KNOBS) Yes, there’s no letting up in the length dilemma, as I aim to break new ground by writing an entry with 40 photos. Did you read that properly? I’ll say it again. “EGADS! 40 IMAGES!!!”

The following walk at Phillip Island was one I’d attempted before, but failed miserably (shocked?). You can find it here in the with the title, Kitty Miller Bay, Phillip Island.

There’s also the problem that I may recycle the jokes, so I have to be careful about that as well. The only thing I can remember about that walk is I thought I’d found Harold Holt’s swimming goggles. I’m currently having them DNA tested against a pair of his Speedos which are on display in a Sorrento milkbar.

Anyway, the previous walk was a failure because I didn’t read my walk notes that said it can only be completed at low tide. Guess what I did? Well, I was strolling along and then suddenly realised I was out of luck with water pounding against a cliff. I’ve been meaning to get back and try again, but it’s taken me two years to do that. My last walking post was about the George Bass Coastal Walk and initially I was planning to do a trilogy of ocean walks. The trouble is I’ve only got two, so you can call this one part of a bilogy of coast walks.

Now, you’ll find this walk in the Glenn ‘Guru of Good Times’ Tempest’s book, ‘Daywalks Around Melbourne’ and this particular wander is named ‘Helens Head and Pyramid Rock’. The highlight for me is I’d get to Pyramid Rock via SS Speke shipwreck, which ran aground near Kitty Miller Bay in 1906. I’ve been going to the wreck for the past 20 years, but usually I’d just turn around and head back to my starting point at Kitty Miller Bay. I’d never thought of continuing on to another coastal feature called ‘Pyramid Rock’.

The thing is, this walk is a one way job unless you’ve got someone friendly to do a car shuffle with. I was feeling out of luck, so I went on my own meaning I’d have to return over the ground already covered. That’s okay, but I had to make sure I had low tide in my favour for the entire walk and I planned it perfectly on a hot Saturday afternoon. Low tide was at 1.50 pm and I parked the car at Kitty Miller Bay at 1.00 pm. Phew! What a paragraph!

I leapt out of my car at Kitty Miller Bay with both feet first and back arched like an oversized ninja with full beach hiking attire. Long sleeve shirt, shorts, sandals and the largest brimmed hat in the Southern Hemisphere. It felt stupidly hot and I hadn’t even started walking, but I was comforted by the blue skies and wispy clouds, as it means only one thing. Yes, I was armed and ready with the polarizer and I had every intention of abusing the crap out of it.


Kitty Miller Bay

I was off and racing. Well, going as quick as one can whilst hobbling over a million rocks which was a by-product of this low tide tilt. The start can certainly be defined as ‘lumpy’.


On the rocks of Kitty Miller Bay

The remains of the SS Speke is only a short distance away from the start. In fact it’s just around that large bulging rock in the picture above. Just climb to the left of the outcrop like this…


…and suddenly there’s a bay in front of you. Here, I took a picture so you can see what it looks like from the nearby cliffs.


SS Speke at Watt Point


It’s an interesting spot and supposedly the area is haunted. I was thinking that was the case as I approached the wreck and smelt a pungent stench, which is a sure sign of supernatural action. I felt mildly scared until I realised it was actually the smell from my hiking shirt, as I was already working up a sweat. Anyway, I had the obligatory perusal of the remains.


Actually, all of this wreckage doesn’t mean much does it? Are you scratching your head wondering what this jagged piece of rusting metal is? In order to give you an idea about what’s going on, I’ve put in the hard yards for your benefit. A quick visit to my favourite picture resource at the State Library of Victoria and I had the photo I needed. Here you go.


Speke aground, Allan Greene 1878-1954 – State Library Victoria

Apparently the twisted remains are the bow of the ship? I’ve no idea, but it sounds good. As I said earlier. being a coastal nut, I’ve been coming to this spot for years, but usually it’s high tide where the wreckage is well and truly in the water. Here’s some pictures from the fiasco archives, taken a number of years ago on a cutting edge 5 MP Canon compact.


On that occasion I was with Ben and it was a freezing winters evening. Not content with looking at it from the dry shoreline, we decided to ‘rock hop’ out for a closer look. We made it, although the waves coming in looked a little dodgy…


…so we scampered back with the patent pending ‘non rock hopping method’.


Then, after making it back, I performed a brutal tumble to the rocks as darkness was upon us. Lucky Ben was there to capture my agony. My head has been cropped out for blogging anonymity, but I can assure you my facial expression is similar to what one would look like if suddenly mounted by an amorous sasquatch.


That was then, but on my latest visit the conditions were a lot more sedate.



It was time to move though, as I didn’t want to be playing around with the tide later on. I was headed for Thorny Beach…


…which I’d never really seen at low tide. It’s a lovely beach that felt quite isolated and on this sunny day there was just a solitary fisherman.


Thorny Beach

In the photo above, Helens Head (who was Helen?) sits in the background and temporarily blocks the beach walking. I headed inland to walk across the top by following a track which leads to an adjoining farm…


…and then continued up along a fence line, gaining height as I did so…



…until passing over the top of the cliffs.


Once cleared I had a tricky little descent down the other side. The walk notes say the best way down is to walk to the end of the fence and then head right down a gully. I walked down that the first time and nearly broke my neck.

This time, instead of going right, I jumped the fence to the left and found a rough track down to the beach. It’s a lot easier and someone has even marked it with a couple of wooden stakes to guide the way. I guess hopping the fence is going onto private land? Maybe, but it doesn’t take long to get down and I can only suggest if a farmer without teeth approaches you firing a shotgun, ‘get low and go, go, go’. Then again, isn’t that what you’re meant to do in a fire? I can never remember.

Anyway, once down on the beach I now had Wild Dog Bluff ahead of me. This is where I turned around the previous time, but I was flying now. I began to scramble around the rocks and whilst doing so, came across a few rock fishermen. It was interesting to watch them and I can see why a few get washed off rocks every year. This bloke really did wait until the last moment to make a dash for it when a sizeable wave rolled in.



I shuffled around the rocks and reached Berry Beach. This was another lovely spot, but there were a few people on this one. I always feel a little bit intimidated taking beach shots with a whopping DSLR when there’s scantily clad people around. When I carry that camera I always get weird looks which is off-putting. Then again, sometimes when I’m taking photos I’ve forgotten to put my pants on, so that might be a reason people stare. Who knows?

I headed off the beach to follow a cliff-top track to Pyramid Rock. The path started out as gravel…


…but soon ended up as a nice comfortable grass track. I’d been on the look out for feathers and the first one I found was quite pathetic in size for a photo. Oh well, this is as good as it gets.


Smallest feather in history

Ambling on I met my first walkers for the day. A family of four walking from the opposite direction and I stopped to have a brief chat.

The father asked, “Where have you come from? Is there anything worth seeing down there?”
I said, “No, not much other than the shipwreck of what at the time was the largest three masted steel ship in the world, deserted beaches, cliffs of volcanic basalt of which the platforms are filled with zeolite and calcite crystals from the Paleogene period and a place where rocks buried and compressed during massive earth movements during the Cambrian Period of 600 million years ago are called ‘greenstones’.”

He said, “Oh. Nothing worth seeing then?”
I said, “Yeah.”

So, they turned around and we both walked in the same direction towards Pyramid Rock. I let them get a few hundred metres ahead and things were going smoothly. Suddenly though, they abruptly slowed at an elevated timber track. I kept strolling and as I overtook the father I was somewhat surprised when he grabbed me by the shoulder and said, “Don’t go any further!”

I immediately stopped. For this dramatic action to happen, surely there was something ahead which was life threatening. Surely? Oh yeah, being restrained was a good reason to stop as well.

He said, “I think I saw a fox earlier and you’ll scare it off”.
I said, “Mm. Okay.”

He said, “When we passed earlier I’m sure I saw a fox, but I wasn’t sure. It could have been a rabbit, but I want to confirm it’s a fox before reporting it. I don’t want to ring up if it’s not a fox, but if I see it I can ring. If it’s a rabbit, I might ring as well, but I want to confirm it’s a fox, right?”
I said, “Yes.”

I looked around and as it appeared foxless I was released from the strangers grip and moved on. Mind you, I was walking a lot faster than before to escape these lunatics. I must mention the reason for this interesting event is there are signs along the way advising people to report foxes, as they’re a pest to the local wildlife. I hope all of this makes sense.

A short distance later I reached a carpark which was jumping with people. Pyramid Rock is an outcrop off-shore and it was certainly drawing a crowd on this sunny day. I went to the surrounding lookouts for obligatory photos.


Pyramid Rock

The fun and games in conversations hadn’t stopped though. I took my day-pack off and was surprised to see a million flies buzz off from the exterior. This drew the attention of a bloke who said,

“Wow! Look all of the flies on you!!”
I said, “Yeah I know. That’s because I’ve developed chronic diarrhea and I’ve accidently shat myself so badly it’s gone halfway up my back.”
He said, “Wow!! You’re the amazing crapper man!!”

Okay, I just made all of that up. Shall we go back to the start? Once upon a time on a dark and stormy night…

He said, “Wow! Look at all of the flies on you!!”
I said, “Yeah I know. I’ve been walking, so they’re probably attracted to my sweat?”

He said, “How far have you walked?”
I said, “Umm… About eight kilometres so far.”

He said, “WHAT??? EIGHT KILOMETRES????!!!!”

I’ve never seen a man so stunned by such a short distance. It felt like I’d just told him I had strolled down from Sydney on the same day. He was still shaking his head at my incredulous news when he asked me to take a group photo of the people he was with. I took his camera and they all lined up on the lookout with Pyramid Rock behind them. It was pretty obvious what he was after, but he wanted to make sure I hadn’t just come down in the last shower.

He said, “Put us at the side and make sure you get Pyramid Rock in the background. I want to see the rock in the picture”.
I said, “Yeah, yeah, yeah. I’ve got it”.

I took the photo and just to stir him up a little I let them all approach me and just when he reached for his camera I put my hand up stopping him and said, “No. Go back. I’ll take another one”. So, they all strolled back to their positions as before and I took a second photo before handing the camera back. See? There’s always some entertainment when out walking.

The most important thing though, is there was something odd on Pyramid Rock itself. A blue object was perched on top and I can only assume it’s an ancient boogie board, which beached itself approximately 600 million years ago. Here, I’ll show you what I mean in this extremely fuzzy crop.


The mysterious blue object

Drama aplenty. It was time to head back and get around Wild Dog Bluff before the tide cut it off. There was minor excitement of a low flying helicopter…


…and a wallaby (not a fox) hiding in the long grass. It was actually an exposure miracle for me, as somehow I successfully focused on the wallaby instead of the grass in front of its face.



Then I slipped back down to Berry Beach and approached Wild Dog Bluff. On the way though I found some treasures from the deep. Firstly I was so close to finding a pair of Ray-Ban sunglasses. Maybe next time I can find the rest.



Then I spotted some sizeable bones in the rocks. It looked like a radius and ulna together and I wonder who they belonged to. Dog? Cat? Seal? Dolphin? Human? Yowie? Who knows, but have I mentioned the saga of how Ben and I found some human vertebrae on a Phillip Island beach a few years ago? That was interesting, as it was on a beach where two people had been washed off rocks a few months earlier. Don’t worry, I handed it to the police rather than use it as a paperweight. Here was my latest bony find on the rocks.


I had to keep moving though as the tide was coming in, so I left the bones behind. It was two hours and fifteen minutes since the tide had turned and it had already reached a point where I had to do some scrambling to avoid getting wet. The fishermen I’d seen earlier had either left or being washed in, as they were no longer on the rocks.


Wild Dog Bluff

I successfully made it around, but I wouldn’t have wanted to leave it a lot longer. Some large waves were rolling into the rocks around me.


I now had a calm walk back to my car. I walked back over Helens Head and passed an old stone farm building along the way.


The one thing I found annoying wearing the shorts and sandals approach was how itchy my legs were from walking through long grass. See, like this.


I seemed to have dozens of little cuts in the skin from the sharp grass. It was traumatic, but at least I had some nice views of Thorny Beach as I began to descend down to it.


The insane itchiness on my legs was calmed by walking in the shallows of the beach.



A Sooty Oystercatcher squawked loudly at me…


…and I passed the Speke shipwreck again.



Then after walking around Kitty Miller Bay I was back at my car. The walk was done! As you can see, the posts are not going to be any shorter this year. Oh yeah, what did I say about 40 photos? Well, I lied, as there’s 41 so far.

In finishing up I must mention the whole ‘shorts and sandals’ routine. At the start I was worried about sunburn on my feet, so I liberally coated them in sunscreen and then reapplied a couple of times during the walk. The trouble is it was bloody hot though and the end result was my feet got sunburnt! Have a look at this. Strap marks and all.


Cook on 180 °C for three hours until done.

I loved wearing the sandals on a hot day. The only problem was sunburn, sand getting under the straps and the odd bit of debris between my foot and sole which was annoying. The solution next time? There’s something that solves all of those problems in one hit and you already know what it is. I’m going back in time to the blister fiasco on the first failed attempt on the Great South West Walk. Yes, the white socks will be back again for the next sandal walk.


Unleash the beast