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Tasmania's shack culture gets shock as bushfire races across conservation area Tasmania's shack culture gets shock as bushfire races across conservation area
(7 months later)
Shack owners in the isolated community of Nelson Bay on Tasmania’s rugged western coast counted fireballs from the safety of the beach.Shack owners in the isolated community of Nelson Bay on Tasmania’s rugged western coast counted fireballs from the safety of the beach.
They had one eye on the horizon all day as an uncontrolled bushfire, one of 50 burning around the state, raced across the irreplaceable heathland and button grass plains of the Arthur-Pieman conservation area and hemmed them in at the coast.They had one eye on the horizon all day as an uncontrolled bushfire, one of 50 burning around the state, raced across the irreplaceable heathland and button grass plains of the Arthur-Pieman conservation area and hemmed them in at the coast.
“We were just seeing these fireballs and thinking, ‘Another shack is gone and another shack is gone,’” Ashley Popowski says. “Then, when the smoke cleared, we were just amazed – all the shacks survived.”“We were just seeing these fireballs and thinking, ‘Another shack is gone and another shack is gone,’” Ashley Popowski says. “Then, when the smoke cleared, we were just amazed – all the shacks survived.”
Related: Tasmanian bushfire still burning uncontrolled in state's north-west
Popowski and his wife, Sue, were among 30 people who decided to stay and defend the thin strip of a community from the bushfire. Like most shacks in Tasmania, theirs is a hand-me-down, built by Popowski’s father as a fishing retreat in the 1950s and shepherded down the generations as the most precious of heirlooms. It is not as valuable as the couple’s main house in Smithton but Popowski says he would rather see that place burn than lose the shack.Popowski and his wife, Sue, were among 30 people who decided to stay and defend the thin strip of a community from the bushfire. Like most shacks in Tasmania, theirs is a hand-me-down, built by Popowski’s father as a fishing retreat in the 1950s and shepherded down the generations as the most precious of heirlooms. It is not as valuable as the couple’s main house in Smithton but Popowski says he would rather see that place burn than lose the shack.
“If we lost the shack we would lose our heritage,” he says.“If we lost the shack we would lose our heritage,” he says.
From the front door of his shack Popowski can see the Southern Ocean, uninterrupted by land until South America. Out the back is – or rather was – the coastal heathland, which had only just culled its annual display of wildflowers and native orchids. It has all burned.From the front door of his shack Popowski can see the Southern Ocean, uninterrupted by land until South America. Out the back is – or rather was – the coastal heathland, which had only just culled its annual display of wildflowers and native orchids. It has all burned.
“It’s all just a white bed of ash and sand dunes,” Popowski says. “The black trees are buggered. It looks like a snowfield but it’s not cold.”“It’s all just a white bed of ash and sand dunes,” Popowski says. “The black trees are buggered. It looks like a snowfield but it’s not cold.”
The devastation is repeated across Tasmania’s ecologically sensitive south-west, where an unusually dry winter has left fire-sensitive vegetation vulnerable to what conservationists have called the worst crisis in world heritage listed forests in a decade.The devastation is repeated across Tasmania’s ecologically sensitive south-west, where an unusually dry winter has left fire-sensitive vegetation vulnerable to what conservationists have called the worst crisis in world heritage listed forests in a decade.
Nelson Bay was one of five shack communities burning on Wednesday. They stretch in an 18km line down the coast from Arthur River, a larger permanent town of about 150 shacks that is officially signposted as the end of the world. First Nelson Bay, then Sarah Anne Rocks, then Couta Rocks, then Temma, each boasting 10 to 15 shacks apiece.Nelson Bay was one of five shack communities burning on Wednesday. They stretch in an 18km line down the coast from Arthur River, a larger permanent town of about 150 shacks that is officially signposted as the end of the world. First Nelson Bay, then Sarah Anne Rocks, then Couta Rocks, then Temma, each boasting 10 to 15 shacks apiece.
It’s 200km north-west of Hobart but a five-and-a-half-hour journey by road, skirting the north-west coast. The only road in runs parallel to the fire – when the flames arrived, everyone ran to the coast.It’s 200km north-west of Hobart but a five-and-a-half-hour journey by road, skirting the north-west coast. The only road in runs parallel to the fire – when the flames arrived, everyone ran to the coast.
Somewhat miraculously, says Shannon Fox, a public information officer for the state fire control centre, none of the shacks burned down. A few were a bit singed and two outbuildings were lost but the little fibro or timber structures survived.Somewhat miraculously, says Shannon Fox, a public information officer for the state fire control centre, none of the shacks burned down. A few were a bit singed and two outbuildings were lost but the little fibro or timber structures survived.
The government MP Roger Jaensch had already promised those with shacks on crown land that “there would be no impediment to their rebuilding”.The government MP Roger Jaensch had already promised those with shacks on crown land that “there would be no impediment to their rebuilding”.
“For many people on the north-west coast, these houses and shacks have been a way of life for generations and the government wants to ensure it continues,” Jaensch said.“For many people on the north-west coast, these houses and shacks have been a way of life for generations and the government wants to ensure it continues,” Jaensch said.
“Shack culture” is huge in Tasmania. Most families with a long history in the state have access to one of the little huts, tacked together on crown land from leftover building materials any time from the 1920s to the 1980s and gussied up over the years to be a modern, if simple, holiday house.“Shack culture” is huge in Tasmania. Most families with a long history in the state have access to one of the little huts, tacked together on crown land from leftover building materials any time from the 1920s to the 1980s and gussied up over the years to be a modern, if simple, holiday house.
“The shacks primarily are, well, shacks,” the independent Tasmanian MP Ruth Forrest says. “They are thrown together out of whatever is around, everything is recycled … these are not buildings that are highly fitted out at all.”“The shacks primarily are, well, shacks,” the independent Tasmanian MP Ruth Forrest says. “They are thrown together out of whatever is around, everything is recycled … these are not buildings that are highly fitted out at all.”
They were built without approval on public land, which has now become owned by dint of occupation. The Tasmanian government attempted to regulate about a decade ago, a process Forrest described as “just a nightmare”. Rather than demolish unsuitable shacks, most were transferred on to long-term leases or their owners were invited to buy the freehold.They were built without approval on public land, which has now become owned by dint of occupation. The Tasmanian government attempted to regulate about a decade ago, a process Forrest described as “just a nightmare”. Rather than demolish unsuitable shacks, most were transferred on to long-term leases or their owners were invited to buy the freehold.
That’s what the Popowskis and other Nelson Bay shack owners did in 2000. They each own a bit of freehold in the conservation area thanks to their antecedents’ choice of fishing spot.That’s what the Popowskis and other Nelson Bay shack owners did in 2000. They each own a bit of freehold in the conservation area thanks to their antecedents’ choice of fishing spot.
Related: World heritage forests burn as global tragedy unfolds in Tasmania
“It was a bloody surprise, I tell ya,” Popowski says. “We never thought we would get ownership.”“It was a bloody surprise, I tell ya,” Popowski says. “We never thought we would get ownership.”
The Arthur-Pieman conservation area, where Nelson Bay sits, is on the edge of the Tarkine rainforest. It was given a national heritage listing in 2013 for its Aboriginal heritage, which includes a vast array of middens, hut depressions and salmon fishing areas.The Arthur-Pieman conservation area, where Nelson Bay sits, is on the edge of the Tarkine rainforest. It was given a national heritage listing in 2013 for its Aboriginal heritage, which includes a vast array of middens, hut depressions and salmon fishing areas.
Clyde Mansell, the chairman of the Aboriginal Land Council of Tasmania, says he was worried much of that heritage had been lost, both from the fires and churned under the wheels of the firetrucks. The council has been in dispute with shack owners along the coast for a number of years for damage caused to Aboriginal heritage sites, particularly by four-wheel-drives on the beach.Clyde Mansell, the chairman of the Aboriginal Land Council of Tasmania, says he was worried much of that heritage had been lost, both from the fires and churned under the wheels of the firetrucks. The council has been in dispute with shack owners along the coast for a number of years for damage caused to Aboriginal heritage sites, particularly by four-wheel-drives on the beach.
Despite the government’s assurances, Mansell thinks any shack that burned down or was otherwise destroyed in that area would be very hard to rebuild, because it would have to comply with Aboriginal heritage legislation. But equally, he says, the Tasmanian government has “shown it doesn’t have the ability” to get rid of the shacks.Despite the government’s assurances, Mansell thinks any shack that burned down or was otherwise destroyed in that area would be very hard to rebuild, because it would have to comply with Aboriginal heritage legislation. But equally, he says, the Tasmanian government has “shown it doesn’t have the ability” to get rid of the shacks.
“Unfortunately it’s part of the Tasmanian psyche that they have a right to go and build a shack smack-bang in the middle of a midden site,” he says. “It gets to an election time and all those people with shacks will vote. And we [Aboriginal people] don’t have the numbers.”“Unfortunately it’s part of the Tasmanian psyche that they have a right to go and build a shack smack-bang in the middle of a midden site,” he says. “It gets to an election time and all those people with shacks will vote. And we [Aboriginal people] don’t have the numbers.”
The fire threat to the west coast shack communities was downgraded to a watch and act alert on Thursday after a back-burning operation around Arthur River. It had spread to more than 12,000 hectares on Thursday and more than 70,000 hectares were burning in different fires around the state.The fire threat to the west coast shack communities was downgraded to a watch and act alert on Thursday after a back-burning operation around Arthur River. It had spread to more than 12,000 hectares on Thursday and more than 70,000 hectares were burning in different fires around the state.