We drove south from Marrawah on the road to Arthur River. After a short distance, a public sign indicated we were entering the Arthur River/Pieman Conservation Area . Not much further and a sign to West Point pointed to the right. We turned off and headed once more towards the ocean. Before long we were entering the West Point State Reserve. Read more here. Dual names for geographical features across Tasmania are now common: the aboriginal name for West Point is nungu.
Others had reached the parking area before us, and were out there (as tiny black dots) on the waves of Lighthouse Beach immediately south of West Point, in their skin-tight wetsuits catching the waves. I was envious. The day was stunningly beautiful. The clarity of the fresh air allowed us to see as far south as Bluff Hill Reserve.
What was my impediment? Why not go for a swim or a walk? I was sick. And weak. Despite seeing an easy walking track down to the beach and further on, I was fearful of walking more than a few metres in case I collapsed. Damn nuisance, one part of my brain said. The other part of my brain asked to lie down and go to sleep and heal. So I sat back in the car and glazed over as Jeanette went off to explore the rocks of the Point.