writer and photographer PETER GRANT
There’s homesickness, and then there’s homesickness. One is broad-spectrum, a vague tug of the heart. You’re travelling overseas and catch a whiff of gum leaves. You have a momentary “I-still-call-Australia-home” sensation, smile briefly, wistfully, then resume your travels.
The other kind stops you in your tracks, and transports you, Tardis-like, to a very specific place or time. That was the kind I experienced in Portugal, and it wasn’t because of the smell of eucalypts.
We were walking along a cobblestoned country lane beneath a faded blue northern hemisphere sky, hearing the scuff of boots, the clack of walking poles, and the chirp of unfamiliar birds. It was the first day of our Caminho Portuguese, a pilgrimage through Portugal and into Spain. The way was paved with the kind of small, square granite blocks that very soon become familiar to pilgrims. What was not familiar, and what brought me to an utter standstill, was the sight of a gum nut wedged between granite cobbles.
This was from no ordinary Aussie gum tree. It was from a Tasmanian blue gum – Eucalyptus globulus – the kind that’s native to many parts of our island; the kind that grows in The Patch, that wedge of peri-urban bushland that borders my southern Tasmanian home. And for a heart-stopping moment, that’s precisely where I was transported.
I pointed it out my find to my companions, photographed it, then plucked it up and squeezed out that very familiar tangy smell. Eventually I returned to the present, asking myself what the gum nut was doing here in Portugal.
As we walked on we began to see plantations of our beloved Tasmanian eucalypt. And we learned that it’s not always so beloved in its adopted country. While the timber and essential oils derived from them are valued, the trees’ proneness to burn ferociously in summer has many Portuguese fearing and even loathing them. Perhaps its similar to the way Australians view radiata pines.
European interest in our blue gums dates back at least as far as the French visits to Van Diemen’s Land in the late 18th century. Admiral Bruni d’Entrecasteaux was entranced by the forests around Recherche Bay. In his 1793 journal he described “trees reaching a very great height, and of corresponding diameter … crowned with an everlasting green foliage. Some of these trees seem as ancient as the world, and are so tightly interlaced that they are impenetrable.”
His naturalist, Labillardière, had a blue gum felled so he could collect its flowers. He named, described and illustrated Eucalyptus globulus in a subsequent publication.
The French found blue gum timber suitable for repairing planking on their oared boats. Subsequent European uses, including for wharf piles, mill races and whale boats, explains their relative rarity in The Patch, and along today’s Hobart Rivulet. In our locale there are even tales of blue gum piracy, with planks stolen from one mill for use in another.
The over-harvesting of blue gums greatly increased during the peak years of woodchipping. Well over 50 per cent of its original range has now been lost. Left standing, blue gums offer a world of habitats for a vast array of creatures, whether of the epiphytic, burrowing, nesting, leaf-eating, leaping, sipping or flying variety.
The critically endangered swift parrot (Lathamus discolor) is just one species that relies heavily on blue gums. These birds, the fastest-flying parrots in the world, migrate from the south-east mainland of Australia each spring to feed and breed where there are nectar-rich blue gums in flower. They use nearby hollows for nesting, and these are generally only found in very mature trees. Given the critically low numbers of swift parrots – well under 1,000 individuals – it’s astonishing that some trees are still being logged or pulped for paper production.
Near The Patch, a road, carpark and ground station for the proposed cable car would require the loss of further swift parrot habitat, with the destruction of up to 90 nesting and foraging trees, including blue gums.
Further afield some enormous blue gums have been found and documented. Near Lonnavale is a tree that’s been named Neeminah, which stands more than 90m tall and has a girth of 13m. By way of comparison, Hobart’s Wrest Point casino is 73m tall. Nearby is the 80m tall – and aptly named – Lathamus Keep. It has a gargantuan girth of nearly 17m. Even more incredibly, this swift parrot habitat tree is in a logging zone that is scheduled to be “harvested” in 2023.
The flower of the blue gum may be Tasmania’s state floral emblem, but that gives it no protection. Were it not extinct, we could ask a thylacine how much protection it received from being on the Tasmanian coat of arms.
Whether in The Patch or in deep forest, only human decisions can protect these trees, and all the creatures that depend on them.
Peter Grant lives in the foothills of kunanyi/Mt Wellington with his wife. He worked with the Tasmania Parks and Wildlife Service for 24 years as manager of interpretation and education. His passion for the natural world led him to write Habitat Garden (ABC Books) and found the Wildcare Tasmania Nature Writing Prize. More of his writing can be seen at naturescribe.com.
