Walking into Refuge Cove, light shines on whale bones. Where were whales hunted? We’re on the way towards Little Waterloo Bay on Wilsons Prom along the southern circuit. When was the last bloodshed? Bones remind us of tragedies. Scraps of timber from shipwrecked boats form an artwork of sorts. Reminders of human tragedies. Time onshore with nowhere to go lent sailors opportunities to be creative with scraps of the smashed pieces of their homes, their transport to or from wherever. Ghosts may live here amongst the memories. Whose memories? Names scratched into the wall may simply be an eyesore. Or interesting? We hesitate to read but move on without much comment. We’ve walked through sailors’ territory with a sense that it doesn’t feel like walkers’ territory.
