Our first “long” day on the Great Ocean Walk took us through forest, brush, and beach to Johanna Beach and its campsite.
With a 23 km day planned, we wanted to had an early alarm set, and departed camp before 8 am, giving us at least a little time to get some distance in before the sun got too high.
For a while, CareFree and I walked through forest. We passed the Cape Otway Cemetery, the resting place for early lighthouse keepers and their family, as well as shipwreck casualties. Once we got closer to the ocean, we had our first cell phone signal since leaving Apollo Bay.
Heading northwest, the trail gave us an overlook of Station Beach. Like most of the beaches we’d pass by today, we had the option of leaving the cliffs and walking down to the beach. Doing so would, of course, add distance, elevation change, and possibly slow beach walking, fully exposed to the sun. So we opted not to do this when we didn’t need to.
As the morning progressed, the meager shade provided by the short stubby forest we hiked through gradually disappeared. A few more views of the ocean continued to showcase the ruggedness of the coast, with lines of waves breaking as they approached the shore.
The most significant departure from the coast today came as we approached the Aire River. Too wide and deep to cross along the beach, the trail journeyed inland to cross over a bridge. Passing through some poorly-drained low lying areas, where the river breached through, we had to twice climb up on the hill adjacent to the trail, following a herd trail through dense foliage, to keep from getting wet.
Passing through a car campground and up a steep flight of stairs brought us to the Aire River Great Ocean Walk campsite, and we stopped for a break in its shelter, shaded from the sun.
After leaving the shelter, we continued through forest, returning to near the ocean. At a lookout at Castle Cove, we saw a tiger snake crossing the trail.
While at the lookout, we got a nice breeze blowing in from the ocean, which we didn’t have when in the forest a little further inland. That helped, since it felt fairly hot out. (It wasn’t really that hot out, but the direct sun made it feel much warmer than it actually was.)
The view had a bench, but there were also tourists, and was in direct sunlight, so we continued a little further into the forest before stopping for a short break. This was a bit of a disappointing section: the lookout was adjacent to the Great Ocean Road, which seemed to entice people to go to the bathroom along the trail, and there were quite a few toilet paper blooms for a surprising distance in both directions from the lookout.
Our trek through forest continued for much of the rest of the afternoon. We saw a couple of koalas, and a more substantial boot-cleaning station than yesterday, on par with the stations we saw on Te Araroa in New Zealand.
The trail through the forest eventually brought us to Johanna Beach, which we had to cross. Unfortunately, it was fairly close to high tide, so there wasn’t much beach left to walk on. That is, there was plenty of soft sand that was slow to walk through, but the more firm sand was either under water, or on an annoyingly steep slope that already wasn’t easy to walk on, let alone when the waves surged up the slope.
About halfway down the beach before we left it, we crossed the Johanna River. Rather, we crossed where our map said there was a river, but we never saw it. Evidently, it was small enough that it disappeared into the sand, much like the creek at Blanket Bay.
About two-thirds of the way down the full length of the beach, we turned inland, climbing up a steep sandy slope towards a parking area. A sign provided context to the beach’s name: In 1843, the schooner Joanna made its maiden voyage from Tasmania to Portland. Strong winds from the north caused the captain to move the ship closer to shore for shelter, but then the winds shifted to blow from the south-west, and sent the ship aground on the breakers. The survivors waded to shore at the mouth of the river, which was later named (and misspelled) to Johanna.
A walk along a dirt road took us past a parking area, and later, a car campground, and up onto cliffs above the beach, where the GOW campsite was located.
The campsite, perched near the edge of the cliff, overlooked Johanna Beach. We had a great view of the beach we’d just walked along, and the part of the beach the trail avoided. Even where we were, the roar of the wind and waves was present, and it was rather loud. Only at the campsites in the trees (with no view) was it quiet.
The wind near the shore was perfect for paragliding. For much of the remainder of the afternoon, two paragliders (the first solo; later, a tandem) passed back and forth along the coast. We didn’t see where they launched from, but we did see them both land on Johanna Beach once they were done.
Already at the campsite when we arrived were two other guys; the four of us took the three campsites with views to the beach and ocean. After we got our tent up, CareFree and I relaxed for a bit in the shelter, happy to get out of the heat. The two guys went down to the beach to try and enjoy the water. Later, when they returned, they reported that it wasn’t that great; the waves were quite rough, and it was hard for them to keep their balance, much less enjoy it.
While they were gone, as we were about to get ready to make dinner, I spotted a tiger snake, partially hidden behind the map of the trail on the shelter wall, slithering up the wall. This immediately became the focus of our attention, and we quickly moved all of our stuff out of the shelter and either into the tent, or to the table next to our campsite. The snake would probably leave us alone if we stayed in the shelter, but there was no point in taking the risk.
Over the next two hours, it gradually worked its way up the wall, over to the second map display, and then crawled up to the roof. Eventually, it made its way outside and down the side of the shelter to the water faucet connected to the rainwater tank, before finally heading off into the woods.
Clouds blew in as the sun went down, and the air cooled off quite quickly. What didn’t cool off was my sleeping pad, which, having baked in the heat in the tent for several hours, stored quite a lot of heat and kept me warm and cozy, even as the wind continued to blow in from the ocean.