The black line that I've been following for an hour on my car's GPS suddenly ends, the screen empty as though having drawn a blank on where to go next. The thing is, there is nowhere to go from here. I'm at Australia's southernmost street - the "End of the Road", as a roadside wooden post helpfully confirms.
Cockle Creek is in Tasmania's southeast corner, a tiny settlement slotted between the aqua waters of Recherche Bay and the Tasmanian Wilderness World Heritage Area. There are no shops or services here, just a smattering of campsites and holiday shacks lining one dusty unsealed road.
The water is impossibly clear, flowing from a source that is more river than creek into a bay lined by silica white sand. The self-sufficient could happily forget the wider world here for a while although I'm staying in the nearest serviced township of Dover, one-hour's drive north. But more on that later.
French Admiral Bruny D'Entrecasteaux stumbled across the area in 1792, naming it after his ship La Recherche, during a mission to find missing explorer La Perouse. A supplementary goal was "advancing geographical science and enlarging our knowledge of physics and natural science" and his company included a team of physicists, philosophers, artists and botanists.
While the French were there to observe, 10 years later the English arrived and suddenly the bay was a very different place. Crystal-clear waters ran red with the blood of whales, hunted for oil, and numbers plummeted from about 100,000 to the current population of just a few thousand. A life-size bronze sculpture of a 3-month-old southern right now sits overlooking the bay as a poignant reminder.