Trek into the blue

Making a pass: CPO Phil McCracken and Capt Daryl South negotiate the steep, exposed access gully between Federation Peak and Bechervaise Plateau.

On the green: Capt Daryl South, CPO Phil McCracken, Ron Crane, Cpl Wade Phillips, Maj Marcel Muller, Maj Blue Phillips and Lt Josh Wiles at Farmhouse Creek on the walk-in.

ADF adventurers take a trek through Tasmania’s wild country to conquer Federation Peak and see off an old climbing buddy.

A party of Army unit adventurous training leaders (UATLs) got together earlier this year to farewell a colleague from the service with one final trek through the southwestern Tasmanian wilderness to Federation Peak.

The trekkers gathered to see off Maj Blue Phillips – who is retiring after 38 years’ Army service – with Exercise Blue Obelisk, so called because of a combination of his name and the peak’s original Federation name, Obelisk.

After an evening of greatly exaggerated adventurer tales, the seasoned adventurers tackled the trek.

“We arrived at the start-point late morning, focused on the elusive summit of Federation Peak, the highest cliff in Australia, and a piece of geography that had only submitted to aspiring ascendants four years ago,” Maj Phillips said.

He said Federation Peak had been the subject of considerable climbing, bushwalking, and adventurous literature in the past 100 years.

“It’s a dramatically beautiful, imposing, and an awe-inspiring jagged and genuine mountain,” he said.

“Being in the south-west region of Tasmania, subjected to the force of the Roaring 40s, the combination of access and weather difficulties kept the peak unattainable for many years. Only about one in three parties reach the 1225m pinnacle.”

As everyone had to return to work the following week, the party’s schedule had to be maintained, meaning the muddy, scrubby, and flood-prone Farmhouse Creek route would be taken.

Though the party included a range of very experienced Army adventurers, navigation mistakes were made.

“Morale and the exhilarating effect of being in the Tassie scrub meant they were shrugged off with ‘we’ll get there’,” Maj Phillips said.

It was down to former Navy UATL John McCracken to read the maps, track notes, GPS and compass, and lead the party into the wilderness.

“A few hardened and experienced local bushwalkers had earlier exchanged knowing smirks, glances, and raised eyebrows on learning of our unrealistically ambitious yet overwhelmingly ‘she’ll be right, mate’ approach to the adventure,” Maj Phillips said.

“And having camped the first couple of nights well short of our planned objectives, I was beginning to understand why.

“The going was quite tough through deep mud, and negotiating frustrating horizontal scrub requiring what was described in the guide books as ‘gymnastic stretches’ to manoeuvre.

“It often meant that a time and space assessment had to be made before leaving one campsite and heading for another.”

In due course the party arrived at Bechervaise Plateau, the base camp from which groups approaching from their walk-in route normally make summit attempts.

On the afternoon of day three, with tents pitched, arrangements were made for the assault on the peak.

“It appears in some areas of Australia, risks are overstated, particularly for seasoned adventuring blokes,” Maj Phillips said.

That was proving to be anything but the case for the party, as a note in the guide book read, “just pop up over the little rise, then drop down the approach gully and on to the direct ascent face, and then up you go, chaps.”

“But once actually on the ground, it was an awesome undertaking, fraught with real and definable risks,” Maj Phillips said.

“The rock was loose and crumbly, the route was wet and slippery; and having been led to believe it was simply a walker’s route, we were not equipped to protect ourselves.”

So after a moment of indecision, the party made the call to push on, straight up the middle.

“With three lead scouts fully committed above us to establish the safest route, without rock-climbing gear, we watched in alarm as the forecast deterioration in the weather was playing out before us,” he said.

“Peak after peak rapidly disappeared in the dark and ominous storm clouds.”

Not relishing the prospect of returning to their camp on the other side of the range in darkness or a savage Tasmanian storm, the party beat a hasty retreat from a position not more than 50 or so metres from the top.

As the storm failed to abate until well into the next day, their summit windows had closed, and they moved into the return journey.

“The walk-out passed without incident, so ended a great week in the bush,” Maj Phillips said.

He thanked Capt Daryl South for conceiving the plan and seeing it through to fruition, his mates who made the effort to share the experience, and CSIG for its administrative support.