Where four skiers perished

Home > Treks > Kosciuszko > Day 2 > 2.7

MOUNTAINS have the potential to be very dangerous. Although these mountains are very easily accessible, they are no exception. Lives can be lost here.

Looking down the valley

The wind blew strong behind us as we followed the gravel road downhill through the yellowish green fields of alpine grass, broken by clusters of granite stones, and patches of alpine flowers in full bloom making the most of the very short summer.

Tall wooden poles stuck out of the ground along the side of the road. These were markers for travellers attempting to follow this road during winter. No doubt the snow would sometimes get deep enough to cause the road to completely disappear.

Looking back to the ridge of Mount Kosciuszko, there was a strip of bare rock stretching from just left of the summit across to the right and heading all the way down the ridge across the other side of the valley. This was the resting place of Gadi Maralang, the Brown Snake.

Mount Kosciuszko

Stories of the Gadi are abundant throughout Australia, where long valleys are often associated with its travels. Here the local story tells of a time before time when turtles were venomous and snakes were safe.

The snake slid into the turtle’s camp in the valleys below and stole it’s venom. He then distributed the venom to other snakes whilst the turtles chased them. Some of the snakes did not accept the venom and fled into the hills, creating the valleys that radiate from the Snowy Mountains as they fled.

Looking down the valley

Maralong journeyed north along the Great Dividing Range creating valleys until he was stopped by the rainforest python spirit. He turned and slid into the deserts. The turtles continued chasing him until he returned here to Tidbillaga where he remains to this day across the rocky escarpment running across the mountains.

Geologically these are caused by the last snows to melt staying here for much of the year preventing any vegetation from growing. When the snow does melt, stony ground is exposed.

Near the bend of Seaman's Hut

The track continued heading downhill, with quite a bit of hill above us. A stream plunged down beside the road and passed over a small ford.

Looking ahead there was a large outcrop the track seemed to be winding its way around. I had no idea how much further Charlotte’s Pass was, or if there was anything in between, but I knew we had to turn back sometime soon.

We passed a cyclist coming the other way. The head wind was too much for her to ride up the moderate slope forcing her to walk beside her bike pushing it along. Even that was quite an effort in such strong wind. There were a few other people walking as well. I became worried that cyclists may suddenly appear from behind travelling very quickly with the gravity of the downhill plus the force of the tail wind. There was the potential to speed very dangerously along the track.

Looking towards Blue Lake

Below us the valley was getting wider. During a past ice age a glacier would have filled this valley. Now a stream meandered its way across the bottom, occasionally forming a small lake.

On the other side of the ridge unseen was Blue Lake. This was where the indigenous people used to meet on their annual journey up here. Beyond that the valley dropped off into the montane forests of the Perisher Valley.

The bluff we were heading towards became more prominent as we continued to lose altitude. The ridge flattened in front of the bluff allowing the track to cross over it. Ahead was a small knoll. To the right of it was a low saddle where the track continued. A small stone hut was nestled in the saddle. Beyond the saddle a low featureless ridge rose in the distance.

Bluff above Seaman's Hut

The wind was blowing fierce around the bluff creating a wind tunnel in which the hut was directly exposed to. The tiny stone hut had a small metal chimney rising from its red metal roof. It appeared very small. No doubt it would feel very small on the inside with the large rocks that were cemented together. A short distance in front of the hut was a simple sign saying “Seaman’s Hut, 2030 meters”.

The hut had a sign above the front door. “Seaman’s Hut. For day use and emergency overnight shelter only.”

Seaman's Hut

We entered the hut, thankfully getting out of the strong wind. Immediately inside the front door was a storage area where firewood was drying out. An internal entrance led into the main living room where a small metal pot belly stove stood on a large stone slab with a kettle covering its entire top. I thought this would be quite a cosy place to stay if you were stuck out here at night.

Through the window

From the tiny living room a doorway led into the sleeping quarters. There were no bunks here. Instead there were a few hard benches for sitting on. The room had a small window and a bronze plaque mounted on a piece of wood. The plaque had photos of some young people and a commemoration to their death nearby on the mountain.

Pot belly stove

“To commemorate the lives of these four young snowboarders, who lost their lives in a snow cave approximately 1.5 km south east of Seaman’s Hut on 7th August 1999. The families and friends of the young men offer their thanks to all the searchers and helpers who for three months continued to search with dedication and compassion.”

The plaque gave the names and ages of the four guys who had died.

Memorial inside Seaman's Hut

“Dean Pinchini – aged 25, Tim Friend – aged 25, Scott Beardsmore – aged 26, Paul Beardsmore – aged 24”

We looked at the time and decided this was as far as we should go today. The track continued heading downhill to meet with the Snowy River. From there it continues down the valley to meet the majestic twisted snow gum forest treeline at Charlotte’s Pass. There wasn’t enough time to do this. We needed to return up the road to Rawson Pass and follow the metal track back to the chairlift before it closes down for the night.