Somewhere in the world, somebody is surfing a wave…
Once upon a time, the governor of Tasmania
vacated his official residence to make way
for demolition and the installation of a new
jarosite leaching pond.
Chippy of the works gang remembers
watching over the Derwent river, towards
the suburb of Lutana – the aboriginal word for ‘moon’.
Every day Chippy watched the MV Anson cruise out
from the zinc smelter. The shipmates liked to Hang Ten,
drop jarosite out off the continental shelf.
Meanwhile the Derwent became the world’s
most toxic river, mercury from shore to shore.
The smelter’s zinc was ammunition for World War II.
Years later, the abattoir, neighbouring
the smelter, dumps carcasses. Blood
stains the river red. As kids, our gang surfed
down the abattoir’s rock face: our only way
to break-in, to see the war.
Sharks, big ones, swam miles, sensing
the carcasses. A shark was momentarily caught
from the Bowen Bridge by an unsuspecting child
wearing a t-shirt advertisement: ‘I’m a Zinc-Linc Kid’.
Inside The Flannel Curtain, on-site at the smelter,
as a child I once visited the manager’s home.
I don’t know why I was there. This house
has long since burned down to arson. My memory
shimmers with a tall man – quiet and intelligent –
there was an eeriness inside the house –
I did not know why. I shook the man’s hand,
the same hand I would later learn,
signed orders to dump jarosite – for decades –
into the ocean of world-weary surfers.
In 1975, one year before I was born,
the SS Lake Illawarra, a bulk carrier holding
ten-thousand ton of zinc ore concentrate,
crashed into the Tasman Bridge, Hobart’s
road link between the shores of east and west.
Cars fell like leaden leaves. Twelve people died.
The SS Lake Illawarra sank into the Derwent.
A few years ago the smelter’s MV Anson was found
grounded and dissolving in Palikulo Bay, Vanuatu.
Tasmania’s legacy to the world, life goes on –
mercury, lead, arsenic and cadmium –
this jarosite life of surfers.
Today, Chippy of the works gang tells me
he’s set to retire. I ask, ‘What will you do?
Do you have a hobby?’ Chippy lights a cigarette…
‘Not really – oh, surfing – I’d like to go surfing –
somewhere in the world, somebody is surfing a wave!…’
Notes & References:
* The Flannel Curtain refers to the expanse of high-voltage power lines that serve the zinc smelter in Hobart. This smelter uses approximately 12% of Tasmania’s electricity output.
* Unspoken Mysteries of the Risdon Zinc Works in Hobart (YouTube), by Angus Thornett.
Tim Slade is a poet from lutruwita/Tasmania. He was long-listed for the 2022 Tim Thorne Prize for Poetry for his debut collection, "The Walnut Tree" (2021, Bright South). Tim’s poems have been widely published and broadcast, including for the ABC’s Radio National, Australian Poetry Anthology and The Weekend Australian. In 2018, his poem "Teacup of the Rose" was short-listed for the Margaret Reid International Poetry Prize. Tim Slade grew up in Hobart, but since 2009 has lived in Pioneer/tebrakunna country, in Tasmania’s north-east. For more information, see Home | Tim Slade (jimdosite.com).
