The Tasmanian Tiger Still Exists Have Driven Thousands to the Island in Search of the Elusive Striped Marsupial
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i n s e a r c h o f t h e Ta s m a n i a n despiTe being declared exTincT in 1986, claims T i g e r ThaT The Tasmanian Tiger sTill exisTs have driven Thousands To The island in search of The elusive sTriped marsupial. onelife joins The search and Tracks down some exclusive lairs along The way words helene dancer photography morgan silk <#L#> _ Onelife Onelife _ <#R#> t is 11pm, deep in the Tasmanian wilderness, and I’m staring at an animal’s stool in a plastic bag. With much ceremony, my host, Craig, places it on the wooden table and pulls the lanterns in closer so we can take a better look at the sizeable sample. “What is it?” I ask, intrigued by this surprise guest at the dinner table. i“I’ll tell you what it’s not,” he replies. “It’s not human, it’s not Tasmanian devil, it’s not dog and it’s not quoll.” “So could it belong to a Tasmanian tiger?” His blue eyes twinkle. “It makes it something else.” Was this it? Proof that the Tasmanian tiger, declared extinct in the 1980s, was still alive? “I haven’t told anyone about it,” Craig continues. “You’re the Clockwise from above: the last Tasmanian tiger in captivity; Hobart, Tasmania’s capital city, and the Derwent River; MONA – first one to see it.” the Museum of New and Old Art – is one of Hobart’s top artistic Perhaps the combination of the full moon, the tick-tick-tick destinations; Hobart’s picturesque promenade of spotted-tail quolls crunching on bugs, the sight of fluffy possums shimmying up the wooden struts of Craig’s ramshackle cabin, and a four-course bush tucker meal had taken the edge off my skills for discerning truth from fiction – but I really wanted Tasmania has also become a destination for the great and the this to be tiger dung. good, with some of Australia’s very best five-star lodges, carefully Tasmania has become a The Tasmanian tiger, or thylacine, is the stuff of legend, which curated art galleries and upmarket boutiques. It’s a place to see desTinaTion for The greaT is why I’d travelled halfway across the world to find out more. The and be seen. and The good, wiTh some OF last wild tiger was killed in the early 1900s and the last captive My search for the Tasmanian tiger may end with dung but it of ausTralia’s besT five-sTAR one died at Hobart Zoo in 1936. But despite it being declared begins in a far more salubrious setting; Hobart, Tasmania’s capital, lodges and upmarkeT BOUTiQUES extinct after falling prey to bounty hunters and trappers, there where I hop in a Range Rover and take a drive through the are people who believe the tiger still exists. Some have apparently chocolate-box prettiness of Battery Point and its artisan bakeries set up cameras and infrared devices deep in the forests in the and Georgian-style cottages. It feels a little like a film set here hope of capturing evidence to prove its existence. Such is the – especially with moody Mount Wellington shrouded in cloud on lure of the Tasmanian tiger that it was even the subject of a film the horizon. I half expect Willem Dafoe to come strolling out from in 2011, The Hunter, starring Willem Dafoe and Sam Neill. Jackman & McRoss with a loaf of sourdough under his arm. Driving around Tasmania, which is roughly the size of Scotland, I head down towards the marina and pop into the Tasmanian it is no wonder people have become obsessed with this home- Museum and Art Gallery – and it’s here I spot my first tiger. Artist grown unicorn, not just to clear our ecological consciences, James Newitt’s To Catch A Tiger installation features a wall of but because Tasmania is one of the world’s most magical places. photographs of the tiger, footage of people talking about sightings, It is Middle-earth, but with wombats instead of hobbits, and as and recreations of the tiger’s natural habitat. The lights are 48 per cent of the island is locked away in national parks and turned down low and the other visitors are as transfixed as I am. World Heritage wilderness areas where apparently no human On the drive down to the popular Salamanca Place, famous for has ever laid foot, anything’s possible. its high-end boutiques, galleries and restaurants, I spot my next ∞ <#L#> _ Onelife Clockwise from top left: Port Arthur’s iconic Penitentiary; the Range Rover tackles the Tasman Highway; Freycinet National Park; farmer Bob Greenhill shares his tiger-sighting tales tiger, which stares back at me from the registration plate of Bob Greenhill, who scoots over on his quad bike for a chat. the car in front. My third sighting of the day causes me to choke It’s a serendipitous delay, as Bob tells me that one of the later on a mouthful of tempura-battered trevally, when the tiger blinks tiger sightings was on this very farm in 1960. from the label of my bottle of the locally brewed Cascade beer. “We looked out for a tiger for many years,” he says. “I know people It’s everywhere – and nowhere at the same time. I’m intrigued who saw it first hand – it’s a long time since I’ve talked about it.” to find out more. I smile encouragingly and he continues. “There were shooters I catch wind of a man who knows of sightings up in the north- out on a kangaroo drive round the back of the property and they east, so I jump into the Range Rover and navigate the neat ribbons saw it going across the hill – it was in sight of them for a minute of roads that lead out of Hobart. But before I get the binoculars or so and each one pointed it out to the others and they all came out, I take a quick detour to Port Arthur, the island’s most famous home, about 10 of them, saying what they’d seen.” penal colony, to get a better idea of Tasmania’s history. The memory paints a wistful sheen on his eyes, which he The drive along the Tasman Highway takes me twice as long creases up in the bright sunlight. I ask him if he thinks that ‘we looked ouT for a TIGER due to obligatory photo stops for dramatic coastal views and there’s a chance the tiger still exists. for many years. i know a curiously striated section of beach that reminds me of a certain “It’s a nice notion, isn’t it?” he replies. “People would hate to people who saw iT firsT tiger. I eventually wind through the narrow isthmus of Eaglehawk think that it’s gone. That’s what it’s about I suppose.” He strokes hand – iT’s a long Time Neck that connects mainland Tasmania to the Tasman Peninsula, his beard, which is the same colour as the clouds now amassing since i’ve Talked abouT iT’ and pull into the historic site. ominously along the horizon. Port Arthur began as a timber station in 1830, but evolved Bob’s been living on this farm for 45 years and describes into the British Empire’s favourite place to send its undesirables. how his corner of Tasmania has developed from a predominantly The convicts here became part of a thriving shipbuilding, brick- wool-producing industry to viticulture and now tourism. He points making, timber-producing and flour-milling industry that also me in the direction of a winery, Gala Estate in Cranbrook, which became a testing ground for British prison-reformer Jeremy his son runs, and I pop in for a quick look before the rain sets in. Bentham’s hypothesis. Jeremy believed that convicts would be Once again luck is on my side. The winery, housed in a quaint better reformed by psychological rather than physical punishment weatherboard cottage with its front veranda propped up by – such as solitary confinement, for example – and it was at Port green-painted tree trunks, was home to one of the East Coast’s Arthur that these methods were put into practice. most famous inhabitants, Ted Castle, who had his own links with I shut myself in the isolation cell before the claustrophobic the Tasmanian tiger. darkness and ringing silence beat me. I’d lasted five seconds. Bob’s daughter-in-law, Grainne Greenhill, shows me around You could easily spend a couple of days wandering around Port the cottage, which has the kitsch authenticity the trendy coffee Arthur to gain a deeper understanding of its political, psychological shops in Hobart could only dream of emulating. She tells me that Launceston and philosophical impact on the world – but I have a tiger to find, Ted was something of a legend for his simple way of life – up until Cradle so after a night at the luxurious Stewarts Bay Lodge and a his death in 2009, he rarely used electricity and never had any Mountain wholesome organic breakfast, it’s back in the Range Rover and modern appliances. What’s more, his father, Frank Castle, used Freycinet north to Freycinet National Park, one of Tasmania’s most popular to tell Ted stories about the days when tigers were in abundance National Park wildlife destinations. The forests succumb to sheep farms and on the East Coast, and how his own father caught many of them Hobart I spy a wedge-tailed eagle surfing the thermals in the big blue sky.