30th October 2024
A fine feature, accessible and challenges to overcome on Burning Spear. As the book says, an awesome spot just to mellow out.
Approach
My relatively new climbing buddy had managed to get a day off caring for his infant and was keen to climb the Maoi. His partner had climbed it recently. Our sights are set.
After finishing a late shift, I rushed around sorting gear including my newly purchased Petzl ascenders. I was keen. It had been too long since my last taste of adventure climbing. This would be my first real one in Tassie.
Asleep sometime after 0100, and alarms were set for 0615, 0630 and 0645. Up around half six, and rushed around brewing coffee, packing my gear, water and food for the day. Embracing Aussie culture I plastered together two cheese ‘n’ vegemite sandwiches.
Packed, lunch ready, Rustam arrives just after 0715.
I clamber into his quite nice Subaru forrester, and we set off towards the Tasman Peninsula. 1hr 30m to Fortescue bay. We mostly talk climbing, experiences, strategies, goals and psych. It feeds my ambition and Rustam’s goal of 8a trad in his lifetime is inspiring. I’d loosely loved the backseat idea of reaching sport 8a in my lifetime, knowing that it would involve a lot of commitment.
There are few campers at Fortescue. Quick use of the facilities, we set off across squeaky white sands, lugging heavy packs. I’m grateful for my trusty collapsable alpkit pole which has seen some serious cross-continental action this year.
Passing beautiful Canoe bay (which has a shipwreck in situ), we arrive at Bivouac Bay on immaculate 1h 30m time, having set off around 0910.
A further 30 minutes or so we hike over to and descend to the unclear abseil station which is neatly tucked underneath some loose and steep bush. What a view. I soak it in. We don helmet, harness and set up the ab with a 60m static, to escape up later.
Descent
Rustam ‘abs’ first and I stare across the bay. I spot large swaithes of shearwaters – ‘Muttonbirds’. There are many swift ripples in the water darting across and disturbing the birds – a pod of Common Dolphins, how many, 50, 80 I’m not sure. What a sight. I snap some video and a few record pics of the shearwaters on the bridge camera – originally packed to film the climb! Rustam had mentioned that Olga and Simon saw ‘like 5 whales’ when they climbed the Moai just 3 days prior.
I look towards two pilot boats and a fishing boat off to the left with eager anticipation and… bingo! I watch the ‘blows’ of 3 or more whales. Excitedly taking some shakey video, I convince myself they are Humpbacks! Tasmania delivered and left me doubtless.
During the hike in we spotted the Candlestick to our backs, and noting the Totem Pole dwarfed and tucked away behind the mainland at Cape Huay obscuring the pole’s lower reaches.
Rustam shouts ‘rope free!’ a couple of times as I am fully immersed trying to document the Whale’s activity on my camera.
Abseil
I lazily shout back and reluctantly started abseiling, and after faffing with the grigri (seeing Rustam confidently descend using his), stop messing around and attach a prusik loop to my leg and the trusty petzl reverso to the rope. Down we go.
I excitedly report my sightings to Rustam, and within a few minutes at the base of the stack spot a whale and we both enjoy their gentle presence.
I was so distracted I forgot to enjoy the sheer impressive rock feature we came for, which towers above a seawashed platform on its own peninsula. Impressive, and special. We Scramble a couple of different ways down to the isthmus and wander over to inspect and lay our gear out.
It’s steep North faces are slightly intimidating, but a quick check round the back at the classic ‘18’ Sacred Site route calms the nerves as the first pitch looks positively inviting.
Ascent
Rock. Paper. Scissors.
Scissors beats paper and Rustam leads.
I try to capture little of the climb on the camera, but again I am distracted by Humpback sightings when they come within 100-150 metres of the stack.
One even breaches at about 1km away – what a sight!
I second and we enjoy some summit time soaking the place in. How many seastacks can you watch Humpback Whales from the summit?!
Blunt Instrument
We abseil and then its time to get on the more challenging ‘Blunt instrument/Burning Spear’. The first pitch (20) is essentially a trad lead but has two bolts… It’s my lead and I set off with the intention of climbing it in one long pitch, all going well (22).
A bit of an intimidating start but I lace up the crux and go for a reachy move, which required quite a dynamic right hand bump left to a side pull… before establishing oneself on a very good flake and jugs to the halfway ledge. Feels about E1…
Pleased to have onsighted this, I rest and set off intrepidly to the top, eventually taking a good fall off the crux arete moves onto trusty seaside bolts. Nerves settled, but fatigue building, I desperately dog up to the next draw and struggle my way to the chains.
I’d managed to put all the draws in but felt so pumped on the top out, I was overcome with that warm rush, dry mouth and nausea that incurs during a good pumping.
I strip some gear, and Rustam leads. He dispatches the first pitch but not quite as confidently pulling over the flake, falls off the crux around where I did, and pours over working the moves and the top section. He suggests we try again as we have plenty time.
I was so done on the first attempt, blaming the late shifts, fatigue, and fear of falling, that I was half hoping for a top rope go. Rustam pulls the rope and puts an end to that.
We leave the first pitch gear in to the top placements to allow essentially a top rope of the first pitch before a clean lead of the second.
After a slight error and shake on the first pitch, I settle into it and dispatch the crux and flake moves smoothly and confidently, before arriving at the halfway ledge. I have to reclip the lower draw of the two anchor bolts as I’m not as tall as Rustam.
I take a deep breath and dispatch the lower moves, forgetting to find the two finger pocket but refinding it at a crucial moment. Rustam’s analysis of the beta had me psyched and I rehearse the moves in my head while I rest out on the arete.
I’m a bit scared. The fear of falling, or perhaps failure creeps into my thoughts. I’m hard to my self:
you’ve taken the fall, it’s fine what’s the worst that’ll happen,
you take a longer whip of this stack, you’re never gonna hit the ledge,
focus on the moves,
give it a good shot otherwise you’ll be disappointed,
you’ll be disappointed for not giving it a good try, like the first go.
I pull up, find the crimps tentatively, and heel hooks, clip the ‘tricky clip’ above the sloping holds, it’s go time, and pull higher and higher, using a fairly savage but well positioned crimp chalked kindly by Rustam.
Feeling the desperation of my forearms building, I clip the penultimate draw, pull up and enter the final groove finding a good righ finger lock. I know I’ve got to finish this now.
I squirm up the groove to finish and clip the chains.
I squeal and Rustam lowers me. I really did not expect to send, and not in the most graceful fashion…
I pushed something inside me, as psyched partner’s encouragement and helped enormously. I was always physically capable, I just needed to take the fall, focus, pull the moves again. Send. It gives me hope, and reassures me we are all performing under our potential. Imagine if we had more focus for routine and rest!
Rustam gets me to strip the gear, aside the first piece and ties in for a proper lead.
He falls at a higher high point! Darn, I was expecting his more intimate beta to be the difference.
He lowers to the ledge, for a total of 4 lead attempts of the top pitch before falling at the penultimate bolt the final go. Heartbreak finish, but he climbed it all and fought hard. Much harder than me, and tried to keep the ascent purer.
Return
We pack up, drink our water and head back towards the rigged static.
While Rustam ascends first, I am in the company of falling pebbles while I send messages without any reception. I pour over my whale footage and download it to my phone. Beyond this, I just mellow out to the ocean waves and the scene. Watching Sooty Oystercatchers pleep and be chased by Kelp Gulls.
Rustam shouts, and I rig my own punter set up of ascenders. The ascent of 60m is bloody exhausting and takes time, but I get there.
I see the Whales one last time before the final pitch of ascent. We pack up the rope and sweatily begin our return hike. It’s so beautiful here.
The squeaky trapse across Fortescue bay just after the sun has left the treetops to roost cements the day’s special status in my memory.
The drive back is dark, and pleasant. We chatter away but I’m completely exhausted, and I did none of the driving.
Call me reckless, I have a beer and a frozen pizza, share photos and excitement with friends and drift into a long happy sleep where I dream my key-in engine running VW transporter is stolen whilst I run into a shop across the road. Strange.
3 years ago, I was twitching a Varied Thrush on Papay…
Today, a whole different sort of adventure.
Super sea stack,
Please to see Humpbacks,
Savoured and put to the test,
These summits are the best
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