Montague Island's Conservation Volunteers Tour by Bruce Holmes

I have a confession to make. Having not trained as a botanist, I had no idea what Lomandra Longifolia was, and learning that it’s commonly known as the spiny-headed mat-rush left me none the wiser. So why were eight of us enthusiastically re-potting these seedlings when we had the beauty of Montague Island to explore?

Because there’s a catch.

For if you want to stay overnight on this island nature reserve near Narooma, with a National Park ranger guiding your wildlife and walking experience, the only way to do so is on a Conservation Volunteers tour where participants spend part of the time helping with conservation activities.

Assisting with the re-vegetation of the island was one thing, but the knowledge that we were making homes for little penguins inspired us to blitz the re-potting of 1100 plants in 2.5 hours.

Fur Seals and Screeching Gulls

Our first wildlife experience had been from the Narooma Charters vessel. We’d seen giant petrels, hosts of shearwaters (muttonbirds), dolphins, humpback whales and then around the northern end of the island a massive colony of Australian fur seals. Hundreds were “fin surfing”: waving their fins in the air to control body temperature. Only a few seemed intrigued by the boat.

After docking we walked uphill to the lighthouse. “Go away!” the silver gulls screeched as they strutted onto the path with beaks raised or rose into the air in a raucous defence of their nests.

The voice of reassurance urged us forward before finally stopping for the official welcome speech in the shadow of the lighthouse. For Mark Westwood, our guide with the Department of Environment and Conservation (DEC), had helped to develop the overnight stay venture. These tours have won the Ecotourism category of the NSW Tourism Awards several times.

But if anyone thought they’d be “roughing it” one look at the guesthouse rooms dispelled that idea. For what was once the head lighthouse-keeper’s cottage has been refurbished into quality accommodation with an old world ambience. Over lunch on the verandah we watched through a telescope as whales offshore performed their antics, one slapping the water repeatedly with its tail.

A Tour of the Lighthouse

Then it was time for a tour of the island, beginning with the lighthouse. The granite used for its construction was quarried on the island and hauled up using a block and tackle. The light began operation in 1881, being upgraded several times before its eventual automation in 1986. The upper viewing platform gave a good perspective of the island, from buildings below to views toward the mainland.

Early keepers of the light endured a lonely lifestyle, dependent for communication on boats and elementary signaling systems. This was evident when we inspected the small cemetery where two children of the first keeper were buried, having died of suspected meningitis, along with assistant lighthouse-keeper Charles Townsend, killed in 1894 when a cart fell on him. Passing steamers didn’t respond to their pleas for help because rough seas made landing too dangerous.

At Old Jetty Bay Mark showed us the remains of an aboriginal shell midden. Such sites are scattered around the island and were used by small seasonal hunting groups. In 1892 one group from the Wagonga tribe met a disastrous end, their canoes being swamped in a squall with the loss of 150 lives.

We then checked on some artificial nesting boxes placed in areas made temporarily bare by the herbicide spraying and controlled fire program employed to eradicate the kikuyu. This grass has not only displaced vegetation suitable for penguin habitat, but has trapped or strangled 3% of the penguin population each year. We had a quick glimpse of one pair of birds happy in their new home.

Shadowing the Bird Researchers

That evening we accompanied some bird researchers for a penguin landing head-count. Two of us went with Peter Fullagher who’s been counting shearwaters here since 1965 in an epic longitudinal study. Two-thirds of those on Montague are wedge-tailed shearwaters, most of the remainder being short-tailed.

Visitors to the island cannot anticipate researchers being there, so as we watched shearwaters returning at dusk and waited for little penguins to come ashore we realized how lucky we were.

The birds land at many spots and our choice of a rocky outcrop was much more true-to-life than the huge enterprise that is Phillip Island in Victoria. While it was exciting when the first few waddled past up the “highway” to their burrows, we were surprised when fifteen of them appeared over the ridge in front of us. Several conversations ensued, among the birds that is, before they decided which way to go next.

Finally penguin number 55 arrived and promptly lay down near us, perhaps from exhaustion. We eased back and left him recuperating, making our way along the path taken by the earlier penguins.

During our stay we explored parts of the coastline with colourful names like The Fingers, where we removed some sea spurge weed, Coffee Rock with its dramatic seascape and The Gut beyond which the northern end is a no-go zone because of the density of shearwater burrows. There was also time to unwind, take photos of crested terns gliding toward their nesting mates or visit the small museum.

Our last dinner was a convivial affair, though one question preoccupied us. Would the windy weather let us leave the island tomorrow? We knew now why the tour information said not to make departure arrangements in too tight a timeframe.

As it turned out we left only an hour early to beat changing tides at the Narooma bar. The breeze was fair, dolphins rode the bow-wave and soon we were approaching the harbour entry. Then it was life-jackets on as we rode the swell through the opening in the breakwater.