The Totem Pole

This past weekend Leanne and I, along with our friend Craig, drove down to the Tasman Peninsula with hopes of climbing the Totem pole - probably one of the most recognized and unique rock climbs in the world.

After driving down to the Tasman National Park campground Friday night, things weren't looking promising. It rained a few times during the night and was quite windy. However, by mid morning the clouds appeared to be clearing although the rock was still wet, the remaining clouds looked menacing, and the forecast was calling for 30 knot winds. It's a 1.5 hour hike to access the Totem Pole, and there are aspects to this particular climb that make it somewhat committing (you'll understand after I describe it later on), so after some hemming and hawing we decided to put off going out to the Tote until Sunday, and went climbing at a different crag instead called the Paradiso - a dolerite sea-cliff nearby. This turned out to be a good decision, as although we were able to climb, the winds were howling, and we got rained on a couple of times during the day. I was able to onsight a 7c and Leanne came agonizingly close to sending a 7a+ second go before the cold and the rain drove us off.

On Sunday, we were greeted with calm blue skies, low swell, and an ebbing tide throughout the day - perfect conditions - so we started hiking. For those of you unfamiliar with the Totem pole, it's a stand-alone sea spire about 15 feet across and rises a full 200ft  straight out of the water from the middle of a gorge-like channel that cuts off the tip of Cape Hauly from the mainland. The base is completely surrounded by water, which (depending on the level of the tide and ocean swell) can consist of strong surging currents and crashing waves. The Pillar itself shudders in heavy surf, reportedly sways in high winds, and has cracks and bulges that make its physical appearance seem totally implausible. When we arrived we found that the calm inland weather had been replaced with a moderately strong wind that seemed to intensify as it cut through the channel. Nevertheless, the sun was out and the waves didn't seem that bad , so we decided to give it a go.

To access the pillar, you must first rappel 200ft down the mainland wall and then swing out, and catch a hold on the rock near the belay station near the bottom of the pillar.

Once established, you can climb the entire thing in two pitches that are broken up nicely by a good sized ledge a little below half height. A few different routes have been climbed with varying degrees of difficulty, but the most popular (and probably the best quality) route climbs more or less straight up the North-eastern arête with a difficulty around 7a+ for both pitches. Not particularly hard, but hard enough to make falling a real possibility and the protection is spaced just enough to remind you your on lead. Craig, as well as being a climber, is an excellent photographer (you can check him out at www.craigingramphoto.com.au) and was able to take some awesome photos of Leanne and I doing the climb.

The climbing was excellent and the position was simply amazing; an incredible climb that I had a lot of fun doing. Once I got to the top, Craig rappelled in and joined us. As he and Leanne alternately climbed up to join me on the top I got pretty cold waiting in the ever increasing wind (I left my jacket at the belay, and the rope wasn't long enough for me to send down a second line to get it) but the view was quite nice and in the end it didn't take that long for me to get reacquainted with my missed clothing.

Once we were all at the top, the easiest way of getting off the pillar is to set up a Tyrolean traverse using the line you rappelled in on. Definitely not for someone afraid of heights, but then again if you've made it to the top of the Totem Pole it's likely just to be an excellent and exciting way to finish off the experience. I thoroughly enjoyed it.

The totem pole is such a unique climb. If you’re a climber with a bucket list that involves world travel, this thing should be on it.