A Tasmanian Surfer

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).

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