Story and images
Copyright © 2003 Garry Searle
Page 5
Erika had been one of the first to the jetty, and was already halfway up the zig-zag path to the top of the island. The 340 metre long path winds its way up the almost-vertical cliff, to a height of almost 100 metres. Once at the top, she made her way to a small shed which held the diesel operated winch. With some kind words, the century old engine kicked into life at the second attempt. Pulling a lever forward, the engine engaged the winch with a clunk and the xxxxxxxx began its slow descent to the jetty. It would take several trips before our supplies and
personal items were finally at the top of the island. Shandor and John would stay on the jetty to load the
skip, while Dave, Tim and myself began the climb.
Now, let me tell you, I don't like heights. Actually, it's not a matter of dislike. I am petrified by them. I'm certain I had read of an alternative track which although much longer, took a far easier climb around the island. Well, I was about to push outside of my comfort zone and despite the fact that it was Friday the 13th, there was no other option. The path is a metre at its widest point. As we walked along the lower XXXXXsectionXXXXXXX, we crossed a rough timber bridge. What confidence I had, disappeared, as Dave pointed out the large section of rock laying on the beach. Putting 2 and 2 together I realised where it had come from. We climbed higher and the path doubled back in one of three
'zigs'. Occasionally we would come across small areas where the ground had shifted away from the cliffs, sometimes
boarded up to hold the loose-sandy soil. If I was growing accustomed to the climb, the final 30 metres followed the top of the 90 metre cliff edge, with 180 degree views to die for. Did I say die? My one brief glance was enough for me. Finally we reached the winch platform as the 3rd skip approached. Heading inland now, my first view of the
lighthouse tower contrasted against the deep blue afternoon sky. We passed between the cottages and Dave started the old Holder tractor with it's
trailer on the back. By the time we drove back to the winch platform the last load was on its way, and
Shandor and John started their climb. We packed the
trailer and all headed up to the cottages. |
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