Conservation Education

“Conservation is a state of harmony between men and land. By land is meant all of the things on and over, or in the earth. Harmony with the land is like harmony with a friend; you cannot cherish his right hand and chop off his left.”

All quotes in this post are from- Aldo Leopold, A Sand County Almanac

Sunrise from Frenchman’s Cap. Olympus Em-1, 2015.

“The last word in ignorance is the man who says of an animal or plant: “What good is it?” If the land mechanism as a whole is good, then every part is good, whether we understand it or not. To keep every cog and wheel is the first precaution of intelligent tinkering.”

Pandani and Snow. Olympus Em-1, 2015.

“The question is, does the educated citizen know he is only a cog in an ecological mechanism? That if he will work with that mechanism, his mental wealth and his material wealth can expand indefinitely? But that if he refuses to work with it, it will ultimately grind him to dust? If education does not teach us these things, then what is education for?”

The Breathing Mountain

“All are aspects of one entity, the living mountain. The disintegrating rock, the nurturing rain, the quickening sun, the seed, the root, the bird, all are one.”

All quotes in this post are by Nan Shepherd from ‘The Living Mountain’.

Mt Robinson. Hasselblad 500CM, Ektar 100, Nov 2023.

“Summer on the high plateau can be delectable as honey, it can also be a roaring scourge. To those who love the place, both are good, since both are part of its essential nature.”

Quartzite Range, Pedder Impoundment beyond. Hasselblad 500CM, Ektar 100, Nov 2023.

“The inaccessibility of this rock is part of its power. Silence belongs to it.”

Formidable Fortress. Hasselblad 500CM, Ektar 100, Nov 2023.

Plotting and Scheming

“A journey of a thousand miles begins with a single step.” - Chinese proverb attributed to Lao Tzu

Sign out the front of the workshop on Sandy Bay Rd. Hasselblad 500CM, 2019.

In terms of outdoor adventure, I would say that the first step isn’t a physical step, but a conceptual one.

The first step is the conception of the idea to undertake a journey. A worthy adventure is bound to be fraught with difficulties, unknown risks; yet it will lure the undertaker towards the chosen destination with the promise of a reward.

Once the idea has taken hold of the adventurer’s imagination, the plotting and scheming begins.

Easel and Level. Hasselblad 500CM, May 2020.

A lot of my friends ask me when they see me;

“Slozzy, have you got any adventures coming up?”

The answer to this is always:

“Yes.”

Every time. I am always planning multiple adventures simultaneously. If I’m at work, I’ll be planning what I’m going to do when I knock off. Which route will I ride home? Will the giant zucchini fit into my bike pannier? These are my every day adventures. They are generally not very exciting, but these mini adventures get me through the week.

Once we move past the everyday adventures, there are the multi-day adventures, these are usually my days free from work. Multiple days open up the possibility of visiting some places that are truly out of one’s way. Tops of cliffs, the white water of rivers, scrub wriggling deep and tangled in the Tasmanian wilderness.

And then there are the ‘big’ trips. These are the long term projects. Often they span years rather than weeks or months in preparation. Eventually they do result in a trip and it is usually rather memorable. These are the adventures I live for.

Planning an adventure is a bit like aging a good whiskey. The process can’t be rushed. It takes as long as it takes.

Sketch Map, SW Tasmania. Hasselblad 500CM, Oct 2020.

‘So what’s your next ‘big’ adventure Slozzy?’

Well, my dear readers, rest assured. I am planning something. This one has been aging in the barrel for seven years. I have been struggling to find a willing companion to undertake this trip with me. But over the last year, the mystery companion has solidified into a real person and now the idea is beginning to take shape.

Some of you already know what this project is. Some of you don’t. But if you keep following these posts, you will all eventually find out.

For now, let me give you a hint.

I have recently started reading a riveting book by the Tasmanian historian, Hamish Maxwell-Stewart, titled ‘Closing Hell’s Gates’.

Some might say I am doing my research. Some might say I am plotting and scheming. Some might say I am stark raving mad.

And all of them would probably be right.

-A.S. 1/2/25, Lenah Valley

The Shaman

“Shaman - one who sees in the dark, one who knows.”

-All quotes in this post are from ‘Awakening to the Spirit World’ by Sandra Ingerman, Hank Wesselman.

Sunset in the sky. Pentax MX, Ektar 100, Jan 2019.

”The shaman is the inspired visionary who learns through practice how to enter into the world of things that are hidden, to encounter spirits, ancestors or gods.”

The shining beacon. Pentax MX, Ektar 100, Jan 2019.

“In the majority of indigenous cultures, the universe is viewed as being made up of two distinct realms, a world of things seen and a world of things hidden, yet no distinction is made between them.”

Close to sunset. Pentax MX, Ektar 100, Jan 2019.

”Shamanism is a way of life in which we honour and respect the spirit that lives in all things.”

Central Gully, Pentax MX, Ektar 100, Jan 2019.

-A.S. 25/1/25, Lenah Valley

The Return

The following photos bring the conclusion of the story of our recent trip down the Denison and Gordon Rivers with Grant Dixon.

Limestone cliffs on the Gordon River. Hasselblad 500CM, Ektar 100, Nov 2024.

To return means to arrive back to one’s starting point. The peculiar thing with returning after a big trip is that while the place we are returning to may appear similar, or even identical, our self may be quite different. A great trip is measured by the changes in our character, knowledge, abilities, attitudes. A fruitful trip is one that changes the way we look at the world. A great trip helps us cast our illusions of the world aside, and help us embrace the reality of what really is. In this way, the hidden becomes visible.

Our camp by the Gordon River. Photo Credit: Grant Dixon, Nov 2024.

Our trip was a bit of an epic. We lost Grant’s paddle early on, I ripped a massive gash in the floor of my raft, Grant lost the foot pillow of his raft when it got stuck in a strainer, the rats chewed through the inflation hose for our seats, and we ripped a couple of eyelets off the bow of my raft. In some way I was grateful that all these mishaps happened on my first long trip, and in the presence of someone like Grant, who knew exactly how to remedy each of these problems as they arose. I now feel much better prepared for my future remote packrafting missions.

I also bumped my shin on a rock after visiting the ‘Dombrovskis Balcony’ at the Gordon Splits; the ledge where the Peter Dombrovskis took one of his most famous photos, the one that ended up on the cover of ‘Wild Rivers’. The Dombrovskis Balcony gives the best view of the First Split, looking straight down the middle. (See previous week’s Melting Billy post if you missed my photograph!).

The way onto the ledge wasn’t immediately obvious, but after some poking around I discovered the most viable means of approach without any ropes. I was pretty stoked about finding the way there at the time. But I did slip and hit my shin painfully on the way back to the campsite. Eventually the pain subsided and I thought no more of it till the next day. But I had a niggling sense that perhaps the local spirits weren’t entirely happy with me having gone there and taken that particular photograph.

I discovered the bump on my shin the next day when it had turned to an egg sized lump after walking through the tangled forest for about six hours. It looked alarming, but Grant assured me that he had a very similar lump on his leg on a trip in NZ many years ago and that eventually it subsided; therefore my leg must be okay as well. I wish I had taken a photo of it as it looked pretty ridiculous. My leg still bore weight without too much pain so I figured it must be okay.

Snag Point, Gordon River. Hasselblad 500CM, Ektar 100, Nov 2024.

Upon our return to Hobart, the lump on my shin stubbornly persisted, but without any pain. I went to see a doctor who said as long as it bears weight, there is nothing to be concerned about, it’s simply a bone bruise and takes a long time to heal. I also went to see my osteopath, who usually puts me back together after I hurt myself. He said I need to remember to ask permission before I go to these remote places. Being respectful to the place and the spirits that reside there lessens the likelihood of having any mishaps he reckoned. I liked his theory and made a mental note to do as he said in the future.

So if I learnt anything from this particular trip, it is this: ask for safe passage before putting on the river in my raft. When permission is asked for, it is usually granted. If it’s assumed, it may spell trouble. Showing respect to the place we are visiting is as important as adequate preparation if we wish to keep ourself safe.

Two months later, the lump on my leg is starting to subside, but it is still clearly visible. One day it will heal, but the lesson it has taught me will remain.

-A.S. 18/1/25, Lenah Valley

Yours truly, paddling near Butler Island. This is close to the spot where about 50 protesters formed a line in their rubber duckies in 1983 to stop the barge carrying the bulldozer headed toward Warner’s Landing. The barge plowed straight through the line and continued on its way. Luckily, no one was hurt at the time. There was a bit of land cleared and a jetty built at Warner’s Landing, but thankfully, the Gordon below Franklin Dam was never built. Photo Credit: Grant Dixon, Nov 2024.

The Gordon Splits

In the 1960s and 1970s, Tasmania’s Hydro Electric Commission was getting a little bit carried away trying to industrialise Tasmania. The HEC wanted to build as many dams as possible; to generate cheap power and attract industrial development to the ‘Dream Isle’. Pristine, remote river systems were seen as a blank canvas. There were a number of different dams proposed on the Gordon River. Only one of them was built. And it stands to this day. The Gordon Dam, built above the Serpentine.

Big boulder, First Split. Hasselblad 500CM, Ektar 100, Nov 2024.

There was a dam proposed for the Gordon below the Franklin, and this one sparked all the protests in the early 1980s. This was after the flooding of Lake Pedder and the building of the Gordon above Serpentine and the activists were determined to stop the HEC this time.

An alternative to the Gordon below Franklin was suggested by the labour government at the time. The Gordon above Olga. This dam would have flooded the Gordon Splits. It was voted down in a referendum, with about a third of people writing No Dams on their ballot. In the end, there was a change in government and the new liberal government decided to build the Gordon below Franklin Dam after all.

Thanks to the brave defenders of the Franklin, this dam was never built. Over a thousand people were arrested at the time.

Rift in the rock, First Split. Some people say the rivers in South-West Tasmania are older than the mountains. A lot of the rivers run across the grain of the land, east to west. The mountains run north to south. One explanation is that the rivers were there before the mountains, and as the rocks got gradually elevated, the rivers cut through them. Perhaps this is what happened at the Gordon Splits. Hasselblad 500CM, Ektar 100, Nov 2024.

The Gordon Dam (above Serpentine) still holds back the Gordon River, Tasmania’s longest river. I have talked to paddlers who have walked down the Gordon, below the Dam, when the generator was under maintenance, and there was no flow at all in the river. We had quite a bit of flow when we were there. And that reminded me.

The river wants to flow, and maybe one day it will.

The fabled First Split. The dam proposed as the alternative to the Gordon below Franklin Dam would have flooded this place. Thankfully neither of those dams was built. Hasselblad 500CM, Ektar 100, Nov 2024.

Roslyn's Pool

Day 5: Roslyn’s Pool

Lovely campsite just below Freedoms Gates. A gently sloping beach with piles of driftwood, quite a bit of it Huon Pine, whose smell permeates my surroundings.

-Journal, ‘The River Book’, Andy Szöllősi. 2024.

Foam eddies in Roslyn’s Pool, moonlight (f11/15sec), Waratah, Bauera (f2.8/60). Double exposure. The first shot is effectively invisible. Hasselblad 500CM, Portra 800, Nov 2024.

Roslyn’s Pool is named after Roslyn Jones who drowned in Denison Gorge in 1980.

Denison Gorge. Hasselblad 500CM, f11/125, Portra 800, Nov 2024.

The mandatory portage is about 3/4 down the gorge after a ‘phallic’ rock and R bend. There is a large flat rock to pull out onto on river left. Further downstream, the entire river goes underground beneath some boulders.

Leaning tree, Denison Gorge. This picture is a two piece panorama, cropped to the golden ratio, 1:1.618. Hasselblad 500CM, f8/125, Portra 800, Nov 2024.

Freedom's Gates

“You can’t have creativity unless you leave behind the bounded, the fixed, all the rules.”
-Quotes in this post are all from The Power of Myth by Joseph Campbell.

Marriott Gorge, upstream. The texture of the water, the clambering rainforest on the encompassing cliffs, the ever glowing light…. Hasselblad 500CM, Portra 800, Nov 2024.

“In order to found something new, one has to leave the old and go in quest of the seed idea, a germinal idea that will have the potentiality of bringing forth that new thing.”

Yours truly, paddling through Freedom’s Gates in my Alpacka Gnarwhal packraft, aka Lucky Ducky.
Grant climbed quite a tall rock in the middle of the Gates to gain this vantage point. At this point my raft had a 60cm long gash in its floor, and the tape we placed on it earlier had peeled off. I portaged the rapids in the background for I feared I would tear the floor further if I got snagged on one of the rocks. Photo Credit: Grant Dixon, Nov 2024.

“The first requirements for a heroic career are the knightly virtues of loyalty, temperance and courage.”

Just a little gash on Lucky Ducky (wasn’t so lucky on this trip). We had to take a rest day at Roslyn’s Pool to allow sufficient time for the repair (about 200 stitches!) and the curing of the glue to make it watertight. Much credit to Grant for teaching me the ‘baseball- stitch’, a method of sewing involving one thread and two needles. This kind of stitch pulls the edges together. A tube of aquaseal spread over the stitching cured overnight and the raft was good to go the next day.

“The adventure is its own reward- but it’s necessarily dangerous, having both negative and positive possibilities, all of them beyond control.”

Grant paddling up the river from Freedom’s Gates. Note the ‘battle-stick’ paddle. We lost Grant’s original paddle near the entrance to Marriott Gorge. Hasselblad 500CM, Portra 800, Nov 2024.

Where the Huon Pines grow...

…down by the water, the tannin dark water… there grow some Huon Pines.

Mt Humboldt and the Denison River. Hasselblad 500CM, Cinstill 800. Nov 2024.

The Huon Pine is a tree that grows mostly along the waterways of Lutruwita / Tasmania. Quite often they grow right on the banks of the river, leaning out into it. Huon Pines grow slowly; individual trees can live up to 2000 or even 3000 years old. Stands of trees can be much older than this. There is a stand on Mt Read that is thought to have originated from a single male tree, and is estimated to be over 10 000 years old.

The secret to their longevity is a resin that is contained in the wood, methyl eugenol, preventing the wood from rotting and deterring insects from boring into it. The Huon Pine has a distinctive smell, some might say acrid, bitter, even pungent, some might say calming, cleansing.

Huon Pines on the Denison River. Hasselblad 500CM, Cinstill 800, Nov 2024.

Captain James Kelly is credited with ‘discovering’ Port Davey and Macquarie Harbour on his circumnavigation around Tasmania in 1815 in his whaling boat, the Elizabeth. Kelly’s job was to find resources the colony needed.

Kelly named the Gordon River and noted the presence of Huon Pines, by then known for its excellent qualities for boat building. In 1823, there was a penal station established on Sarah Island at the mouth of the Gordon River. Its purpose was to turn convicts into piners and boat builders. The prized timber they sought: the Huon Pines.

The cutting down of Huon Pine was officially banned in the 1960s. Driftwood can still be collected by some commercial operators on the west coast of Tasmania.

The entrance to Marriott Gorge. Hasselblad 500CM, Portra 800, Nov 2024.

These trees are more than just a resource. They are living beings, arguably some of the oldest living beings on Earth. They have survived from a time that was likely colder and wetter, making them vulnerable to fire. With the increase of severe wild fire events caused by dry lightning strikes and erratic rainfall, the future of these trees, like so much of Tasmania’s wild character, is uncertain. Their future is linked to the future of Tasmania’s rivers.

Misty Memories

“Sweetgrass is a teacher of healing, a symbol of kindness and compassion. She reminded me that it is not the land that has been broken, but our relationship to it.” - R.W. Kimmerer

Lake Gordon, hiding part of the Gordon River. Hasselblad 500CM, Cinstill 800, Nov 2024.

Pearly Rates

Start each day
With a clean slate,
No history has the power
to govern the present
although the illusion may appear strong
and our history certainly brings circumstances;
black teeth after too much red wine.

Yet each day appears clean and fresh;
The orange is cut, apples are sliced
and the juice runs clear into a jar.

The person you were before
no longer is you,
the habits you performed
need not be those which you now
come to do,

forget your past and simply be
grateful for all that you have:
humble, aware and benign
Face the here and the now.

-A.S. Geelong, Oct 2017

Morning mist on the Denison River. Hasselblad 500CM, Cinstill 800, Nov 2024.

Reflections on a dream

There are many who came before
and many who are yet to come
Our world is young and old
In more ways than one.

Like the arrow that’s been released
Flying through the air
Between the bow and target
I wonder where my head may land.

When my work is said and done
When the lights wane down
The day the darkness comes
Where will I be?

I hope among my family
In a home both good and warm
Surrounded by those I’ve loved,
The moon keeping our company.

A.S. -Poland, May 2017

Pebbles in the River, Tree Silhouette. (Double Exposure). Hasselblad 500CM, Cinstill 800, Nov 2024.

A haiku from Bialowieza

Stillness of the night
Broken by a lonely song,
Many join; it’s dawn.

-A.S. Bialowieza, May 2017.