Day 33 (5 Aug) – Dave Ambushed in Early Morning Assault on Manning Gorge

Dave had the bright idea of rising well before the sun this morning, and hiking an hour in the dark to photograph Manning Gorge at sunrise. This also involved first crossing a deep river in the dark (a small boat is provided). I drew the line at rising at 4am and hiking rocky trails in the dark, opting to bring breakfast at daybreak. I rose just before 6am and was making egg and bacon sandwiches when suddenly the caravan door opened, and Dave appeared.

“What… did you… you’ve already been to the gorge and back?” I asked in surprise.

“I didn’t make it to the gorge” Dave replied.

“Did you get lost in the dark?”

“I didn’t get lost.”

“What happened?”

"I didn’t make it across the river.”

“You didn’t make it across the RIVER?”

“The boat sank.”

“The boat SANK?” At this point I am noting that the river is less than 100m away, and Dave has been gone at least an hour and a half. “But where have you been?”

“Trying to retrieve the boat from the bottom of the river”.  

I now note that Dave actually looks fairly wet, and is shivering (it’s about 8 degrees outside).

“Well, um, how about bacon and eggs and a hot drink?”

“Sounds good.”

Read on if you’d like Dave’s version of events…

Manning Morning Mayhem

Signage for the Manning Gorge walk states that you “Must allow enough time to finish the walk in daylight”, but it doesn’t say anything in regards to starting the walk before daybreak. Therefore, since a sunset at the gorge was apparently prohibited, the idea of a dawn raid on Manning Gorge was born.

The sun rises early and it is a 90 minute walk to the gorge, so it was an early start. Dave left Liz sleeping and departed the cosy caravan at 4:30am, walked past all the snoring campers still in their tents and made his way down to the river. On his visit 9 years ago, he had to swim across the river with his clothes, boots and camera safely tucked in a foam grocery box. They have really gone up-market now in providing a small boat – a much more appealing proposition when it is 4:30am and 8°C. “Great” thought Dave, “I won’t even have to take my boots off or get my feet wet.”

The boat had a slow leak and had taken on a little water overnight. A quick appraisal (in the dark) was made that there wasn’t too much water, besides bailing would make too much noise and take too long; sunrise waits for no man. The Captain declared the boat sea-worthy and despite some misgivings among members of the crew, the boat was boarded and put to sea.

After dragging off the sandy beach, the boat started making way at good speed across the river. It was then the Captain declared, “Bring me those doubters, those free surface water prophets of doom. Give them 50 lashes and make them walk the plank! Harrr.” No sooner had the words left his mouth, then the boat listed slightly to starboard – then suddenly, aided by the free surface water it listed heavily. The boat was now rapidly taking on water over the starboard bow and sinking fast.

It is bad luck to put to sea in an unnamed boat, so a hasty naming ceremony was conducted, naming the boat with the first name that came to mind. It made no difference.

The Captain ordered “All hands on deck!” But with a torch in one hand and tripod in the other, all hands were already busy and it was immediately apparent the vessel could not be saved with a crew of this size. The RB Titanic was doomed to a watery grave. Nearby, a small crocodile looked on.

The Captain acted decisively in his self-made crisis and ordered “All hands, abandon ship!” All hands dutifully obeyed, closely followed by the head, body, legs and feet. Scrambling back to dry land where Dave stood alone, pondering the miracle that all had survived – and wondering what to do about the boat that was now sunk mid-river. It was evident he was not going to make the gorge for sunrise.

To cut a long story short, much [quiet] bailing ensued, until the sun started to rise and the early morning walkers appeared at the river’s edge to find a healthy [floating] boat ready to carry them safely across the river. Dave returned to camp cold and wet for a nice cooked breakfast before joining Liz for a walk to the gorge – attempt number 2.

While she knew only sketchy details of the morning’s antics, Liz was hesitant to sail under the colours of the not-so-Able Seaman Dave.

The ill-fated RB Titanic (Dave)

Manning Gorge (Dave)

Manning Gorge (Dave)

Early Morning Swimmers in Manning Gorge (Dave)