P
ulling into our lodgings,
a beautiful coastal cot-
tage, I was astounded
by the number of wild-
life we’d encountered
crossing this tiny speck
of land. Yes, it was dusk and anyone
who’s been to Australia knows to look
out for kangaroos, but wallabies, and
thousands of them? It seemed so sur-
real.
It’s estimated that this little patch
of green on the western edge of one
of the world’s most notorious stretch-
es of water has a wallaby population
of between 500,000 and 1 million, no
one knows for sure. It seemed clear
that most were on the 26-kilometre
length of road that joins one side of
the island to the other. Not startled,
not afraid, a quick glance as any ve-
hicle headlights passed by. Incredi-
bly the possums of the island had the
same attitude.
We’d been warned that sunset was
the most dangerous time to be on the
road, the same as anywhere in Aus-
tralia, and that we would hit an ani-
mal. We were told what to do, not if
we collide with some poor creature
but, when we did. A rather fatalistic
approach. And now I could see why.
King Island, a tiny 1,100 square
kilometre dot at the north-western tip
TRAVERSE 49
of it’s parent state of Tasmania. The
first speck of land that the almighty
roaring forties reach after howling
across the Indian Ocean from south-
ern Africa. Winds that have terrified
sailors for generations, winds that
have destroyed lives and created leg-
ends. Yet here, in the small hamlet of
Naracoopa, it was calm and settled.
On the protected eastern side of
King Island, Naracoopa, was once
the main shipping port for minerals
mined on the island. A once busy hive
now little more than a holiday village,
it seemed like the perfect place to be
based, it would be hard to find any-
where on the island that wasn’t.
King Island, with a population of
around just 1,600 people, is a haven.
A perfect place to visit, a perfect place
to explore. Remote enough to find a
secluded beach, populated enough to
be not too far from anywhere.
Naracoopa is the smallest of the
three townships, Grassy in the south
is slightly larger, while Currie on the
west coast could only be described
as the ‘capital city’, the place where
much of the population live, where
commerce is centred, where industry
‘thrives’.
While exploring the roads and
tracks between these three towns we
discovered that King Island has a his-