I return here one evening with the hopes of spotting a duckbilled platypus, which are supposed to be in here. I have rather a good eye for spotting nature and can move through the forest quietly and patiently. I spent nearly four hours lurking through here, even climbing up above the falls and following the stream, but did not have any luck. At one point a family brought their maniacal dog in and it romped through the streams barking at everything, so I'm sure that put them off.

The biggest attraction for the tourists here is to take a cruise into the Gordon River. This is a World Heritage area, covering a large area of unique wilderness. It was hardly pristine though since the mining and foresting polluted the waters for many years. However nature is returning and I'm keen to see it as well.

The boat first goes out to sea on this beautifully calm day, past Hell's Gate and the lighthouse, before returning to the harbor. We pass by some fish farms before stopping at Sarah's Island, the infamous site of a penal colony. The same troupe that performed the play runs the tours here and they do a better job of it. The convicts built ships from the valuable Huon Pine that grew in these parts. At one point the island was completely denuded and held a multitude of buildings. Now, it is all ruins and the vegetation has returned, making it an oddly beautiful spot for such a brutal prison.

The trip up the Gordon River feels like a jungle cruise, with dense forest on both sides of the winding river. There's a quick stop for a rain forest walk, but because the entire boat goes at once it is far more peaceful at People's Park. Overall, the popular Gordon River cruise is worth its slightly high price.

Strahan is so pathetically small, with such a horrible grocery, that I'm unable to properly restock for my return to the Overland and must plan to stop off in Queenstown. My last evening here I sit on the surprisingly quiet beach near the caravan park, drinking beer, imagining I'm a character out of a Steinbeck novel. No Bohemia here, so I'm drinking Boags. How fine and cool the sand is on the beach. The grey blue sky that merges effortlessly into the mountains and sea resemble a sand painting I once bought from an Indian in Steinbeck's Monterey. And this is the first time I've ever seen a swan, a black swan, fly such a considerable distance.

How good it is to be alive and in Tasmania at the end of this 2002. Just today, in the shower, I had this thought -- Sybil is dead. I don't have that thought very often now, and when it does come it is with a feeling of astonishment rather than sadness. Very strange things can happen in this world. I am alive and Sybil is dead. An old woman wades into the dark waters, embracing it like a loved one. Kids walk their dog on the beach and sea birds cry out at the end of the day.

The sunset is so amazing here, changing from subtle hues to blazing intensity within a matter of seconds. At least it seems like a matter of seconds. It's hard to judge time when you're a Steinbeck character drinking beer on the beach. Darkness is growing, but I'm a part of it now so it feels OK. Just one more beer and I'm off to bed.