It’s pouring, really pouring. Rain is sleeting sideways across Wilsons Promontory Road, which runs like a grey spine along the limb of land that’s the mainland’s southernmost appendage. The motorhome is splashing through muddy puddles. Asphalt ribbons through intense, drenched green hills, up, down and around. I’m thinking of all the walking we’re not going to be doing; wondering whether we would have been better off at that pottery gallery I spotted outside Leongatha.

Anyhow, we’re under 10 minutes from Tidal River, the only settlement of any size toward the pointy end of Wilsons Promontory (Vic). When I finally decide this is foolish, three emus appear around a corner. Right by the road, they stare, and I and my mate Ben are struck by their surprise. I pull over. We ogle for a minute, at which point they trundle off into the scrub, and we persevere into the sopping afternoon.

Mid-winter, this weather is to be expected, along with an icy, Antarctic wind. We hop out at the Tidal River visitor centre carpark and head to the park ranger-staffed desk. “What can I do for you? Bring out the sun?” is the beaming welcome from ranger Andrea. “Sorry, it’s not within my power.” Nonetheless, since we have hot showers awaiting us at the end of the day, she advises that we take to the trails despite (or to spite) the weather. As it happens, after a strong cuppa in our Maui Spirit 2 T/S to steel ourselves against the chill and damp, we step out into what ends up being a relatively clear two hours.

Loo-Ern Track and Tidal Overlook Circuit

Metres from the motorhome, at the riverside edge of the carpark, we take the 1km Loo-Ern track towards the ocean. The sandy path runs alongside Tidal River, a wide, shallow snake of a watercourse, and takes in the picturesque wetlands along its banks by way of a boardwalk. After negotiating a couple of ankle-deep puddles, we meet another prom native, a happily munching wombat. He (or she) doesn’t seem too bothered, quietly making his way through some grass and glancing up at me only to sniff my camera lens. Having decided this makes no alternative to vegetation, he turns and goes on his way.

The boardwalk takes us to a bridge, across which we pick up the Tidal Overlook circuit (it’s well signposted). Here the going gets a little steep as the gravel track rounds a hill above Tidal River, and we take in increasingly sweeping views of Norman Bay and the trickle of small islands south of the Prom.

At the top of the hill is the Tidal Overlook itself, a perfect picnic stop with a table and benches, with commanding views of Tidal River in the valley to the east, and Norman Bay and Bass Strait to the south.

While we’re admiring the view, though, Ben notices that we’re being watched. Two fluffy wallabies are keeping tabs on us, not 20 paces away, bodies and heads still as tree-trunks, only their radar-dish mobile ears betraying their presence.

The wind picks up as we begin the descent to the Tidal River carpark, around the northern face of the hill, down a big switchback or two, and back to the bridge. As we reach the motorhome, an hour-and-a-half after we left it (approximately the time officially recommended to do the walk), the heavens open. Yet again we take cover with the rangers, and we plan our attack for tomorrow.

Three-beaches walk

After a cup of tea and a bowl of cereal at Toora Tourist Park (a Top Tourist Park), just under an hour from Wilsons Prom, we’re back for another go at the weather. Although it’s blowing a seriously freezing gale at the park in Toora, the skies are clear. Not so, however, on the approach to Squeaky Beach. It’s not looking at all promising when we park the motorhome at the trailhead, and then, somewhat miraculously, the rain stops and we’re on our way.

From the carpark, the path descends a sandy path closely overgrown with the monochrome branches of spindly seaside trees. Ben says he’s reminded of Sleepy Hollow; he wouldn’t be too surprised if a headless horseman came a-cantering down the trail. The tangle of ghostly limbs eventually opens onto low dunes at the back of Squeaky Beach, and bright, white sand extends in a cosy arc in front of us. Giant, red-lichened boulders cluster to the right, and neither of us can resist climbing up them. As we trudge through the sand, it lives up to its name: the super-fine grains squeak against the rubber soles of our boots, although the effect is more noticeable with bare feet.

While we’re perched atop the boulders, the wind picks up and it starts to rain again, so we head back to the van and drive around to Picnic Point, take a look at Picnic Beach, and then do the same to Whisky Beach.

In fairer weather, it’s an easy few kilometres’ walk from Squeaky Beach to Whisky Beach via Picnic Beach. The path takes you up to a couple of great observation points from where you can see Norman Island and Norman Bay, before leading you to some (low-tide only) rock-hopping that bridges Picnic Bay and Whisky Bay.

Today, though, on the other side of those rocks, we bear the full force of the winds. Coarse sand sings across the beach surface in visible streams; massive breakers explode against rocks at the western end of the beach, and a fierce wind pushes us across the beach, in what we wrongly decide is the wrong direction. After a solid 10 minutes wandering up and down Whisky Beach, we find the right path back through the dunes, and scramble up the hill and through the trees to the van.

Lunch at the lookout

On the way down (or rather, up and down) to Tidal River from the top of the Prom, there are a couple of spectacular lookout points – drive-through road shoulders wide enough to safely accommodate a medium-size rig while allowing anyone through who needs to pass. After surviving the veritable gale at Whisky Beach, we drive a few kilometres back towards the park entrance and pull into Jinny’s Lookout. (An equally good spot is Norman Lookout, which is almost within sight of Jinny’s.) The weather’s still atrocious, but Norman Island cuts a fine figure, like a submerged dromedary out to sea.

While the rain beats heavily against the Sprinter, we tuck into a salami-wrap lunch, followed by steaming, freshly brewed coffee. It’s one of those perfect motorhoming moments, where the convenience of an RV comes to the fore. But there’s little time to linger beyond the final enervating sip – East Gippsland beckons, and we leave the Prom and its rain behind in the spray of our tyres. ■

Tidal River fast facts

Tidal River, the nerve centre of Wilsons Promontory, is about 200km south-east of Melbourne. The Prom extends to the southernmost point of mainland Australia.

The weather in winter is formidable but you’ll have the place largely to yourself then. A summer visit to the Prom entails some sharing, and if you want to camp on-site or stay in one of the cabins, you’ll have to book around a year in advance. A ballot system is used to allocate campsites and accommodation at Tidal River for the peak Christmas holiday season.

In summer the general store has fuel, meals on some nights and plenty of supplies, while an open-air cinema and medical services are also available in peak periods.

For day visits, you’ll need a Day Pass, issued at the entry gate to the park, for which you’ll pay around $10.

Walking maps and laconic advice are available from the Tidal River visitor centre, which also provides extensive information about local flora and fauna. Hikes can be anything from half an hour to half a week; anything overnight should be booked and registered at the visitor centre.

A very limited number of powered sites are now available, though you may have to book them far in advance as this is possibly the most desirable camping destination in Vic. For more information, call 131 963 or visit www.parkweb.vic.gov.au

By Andrew Harris, as featured in Motorhome World issue 23, November/December 2008.