White Wallabies, Wind, and Way Too Much Food, A Day on Bruny Island

Bruny Island had been on my wish list for years, so hopping on a small bus with only 17 people and the delightful Jimmy as our driver felt like winning the Tasmanian lottery. Jimmy picked us up at the hotel and drove us down to Kettering where we drove onto the ferry for the short trip to the island. Turns out visiting Bruny is part wildlife documentary, part history lesson, and part long lunch with attitude.

The Culinary Tour That Wasn’t Supposed to Be a Culinary Tour

Let’s get one thing straight. This was marketed as scenery and history. It turned into a food festival with bonus views.

We stopped at Get Shucked for oysters, picked up three different Bruny Island cheeses for morning tea, and then wandered into a honey tasting that surprised me. Different blossoms make wildly different flavours. Who knew honey could have that much personality.

Jimmy picked up a few baguettes from a microwave masquerading as a roadside mailbox for morning tea with cheese, oysters for the brave, and a cuppa. I was already considering skipping lunch. Foolish, foolish woman. Those two trees are hundreds of years old. Two Tree Point on Bruny Island, Tasmania, is a historically significant spot at the mouth of Resolution Creek in Adventure Bay, named for two iconic gum trees that stood there when Captain Cook visited in 1777, and are believed to be the same trees seen today, making them over 250 years old.

The Neck and a Slice of History

Jimmy kept up a running commentary about the island as we rolled along, and the history here is heavy stuff.

The Neck lookout was our first big stop. It’s the narrow strip that joins north and south Bruny, with the Tasman Sea on one side and the d’Entrecasteaux Channel on the other. Bruny Island is actually named after d’Entrecasteaux’s first name, which is a nice trivia nugget to whip out at dinner parties.

We also climbed part way to Truganini Lookout. The wind was a gale right off the ice, making walking uncomfortable. Jimmy talked about Truganini and the brutal history of Tasmania’s Aboriginal people . We were taught at school that Truganini was the last full blood Tasmanian aboriginal. In the 1800’s full bloods were sent to Flinders Island, and children were taken from parents if they were mixed race. This really was full-on genocide. So families hid their heritage for generations by claiming Italian or Spanish roots to explain their children’s darker skin. Not light holiday listening, but important. You’ll find more at Wikipedia’s Truganini page.

White Wallabies, Not Albinos

Then came the moment that made me squeal. A white wallaby. Not albino. They’re a natural colour variant found on Bruny Island and a few other places. No pink eyes, just pale fur and pure magic. I felt like I’d spotted a unicorn with a pouch.

As you can see, white wallabies can have brown babies. The white variant pops up if both parents carry the gene for the white fur. Jimmy told us their numbers are growing. The biggest danger to wildlife on Bruny is cars – and white wallabies are more likely to be spotted than brown ones.

The picture I took is not worth showing. I bought that one. But here’s a link to more information.

Cape Bruny Lighthouse, Wind with a Capital W

The lighthouse stop was next, at Australia’s southernmost lighthouse. The scramble up to it was not for the faint hearted, and then there were 72 steps inside to reach the top. The views were wild, raw ocean smashing into cliffs, and the wind was so fierce it felt like it was trying to peel us off the island.

Cape Bruny Lighthouse was first lit in 1838, making it one of Australia’s oldest operating lighthouses. It was built after a shocking run of shipwrecks along this savage stretch of coast. Back then, keepers and their families lived in total isolation, growing food, hauling supplies, and tending the lamp through roaring gales that still try to knock modern tourists off their feet. The light was converted to electric power in the 1970s, but the stone tower feels every bit as tough and stubborn as the people who once kept ships from smashing themselves to pieces on Tasmania’s southern edge.

Lunch, Chocolate, and the Point of No Return

Lunch was lovely. I had seafood chowder, rich and comforting. Pete had slow-cooked lamb, which he enjoyed, but it really needed to arrive hot. Minor tragedy.

After that, we did chocolate tasting, then more cheese tasting. At that point I was full in a way that suggested structural failure if I ate another bite.

Bruny Island delivered everything: wildlife, brutal history, wild landscapes, and more gourmet food than one day should legally allow. And all of it with Jimmy at the wheel, calmly herding 17 very happy tourists around one of Tasmania’s most beautiful corners.

If you ever get the chance to visit Bruny, take it. Just maybe skip breakfast.

If you’d like to follow the whole trip, go here.