Anthropophagy
We arrived at the shores of Lake McKerrow, deflated the boards and packed gear ready for the pick up. We spent the next hour swatting the huge sandflies that hunt anything that moves. More than five on one limb and you might get dragged away they are that fierce and strong. So seeing the boat arrive, heralding our escape from the dreaded sandflies was very much appreciated. The driver, Hedgehog, sped us away down the lake, saving us a very long, tedious paddle; due to the 70km head winds the 18-20 km journey may not have even been possible. Hedgehog dropped us at the remote hut in Martins Bay, only 800 meters from the pounding 5 meter swells hitting the coastline. We started a roaring fire, cooked some food, got warm and settled in for the night. The cold beers we had with us tasted sensational and soon the stories got longer, wilder and truth stretched beyond reality. Weariness took over, with us all climbing into our sleeping bags and falling asleep. The storm increased during the night with impressive thunder, lighting, rain and winds that hammered the hut and the bush around us. We were feeling exceptionally happy that we had a solid hut and not just tents as had been discussed in the original plan. Morning broke with not a breath of wind and moody mist hanging low around us. We decided we could fit in a quick paddle up the river to explore before the homeward transport arrived to collect us. We paddled around the small islands and used back eddies to take us effortlessly up the river, all the while being entertained by playful seals who were very curious and keen to check us out. The calls of the birdlife were wild and loud in such a tranquil setting and the feel of the place was like something out of the Lord of the Rings. We were very aware we were the only humans for a long way and felt quite humbled by the grandeur of the mountains and landscape.
