Chapter 14

Tiger Tales Arrives at Last

In early November 2000, I received my first proofs of Tiger Tales. HarperCollins were busy doing deals with various media organisations to promote the book, and they were about to prepare me for a host of radio and TV interviews.

Peter and Sheera von Puttkamer and the Discovery team from Canada arrived mid-November, checking into the accommodation I had arranged for them in Maydena. The following day I led the crew out to the Ragged Range, where they filmed in various locations. At their request, I guided them along the same rough bush track to the top of the range, through the now familiar myrtle forest and on into old growth eucalypt forest. As we moved through the woodland, I pointed out the many places where a transient tiger could hide for the day amongst the rocks and bracken, finishing at the exact place where I had encountered that tantalising odour a few weeks earlier. We had our lunch under the tall trees amidst the coolness of the ferns, and all the while, I was fearful of an errant thylacine exposing itself or wooing us with that same pungent odour. The fact that we were slap bang in the middle of a thylacine corridor made the situation even more precarious. With the day growing to a close, it was with some relief that I led them out of the forest and back to our vehicles parked several kilometres away.

The next day was equally captivating, with filming along the lower reaches of Mount Anne and along Scott’s Peak Road consuming most of the day. Tramping wearily through the button grass with a full pack in the heat of the day while the cameras whirled brought me no joy. I was ever on the lookout for tiger snakes, most prevalent in the marshy areas I was required to negotiate. The filming continued that evening with a mock fireside scene filmed alongside the Junee River, west of Maydena. By day’s end, I felt it was an extremely worthwhile experience, and of all the documentaries I have participated in, this was by far my most memorable.

Overall, this film shoot gave me valuable knowledge of filmmaking, with the Discovery team being an extremely professional unit. The end result was a neat 30-minute documentary dedicated to the search for the thylacine that became part of a four-part series called Monster Hunters.

***

In late November 2000, I again walked a section of the old Port Davey Track again between Mueller Road and Mount Bowes. With parts of the now disused track being completely overrun with horizontal, it meant either forcing my way through, or finding a way around it, and in choosing the latter I at times found myself completely disorientated. Maybe this was meant to be, because it was while I was extricating myself from a confusing situation that I stumbled upon a freshly killed wallaby. I had just scrambled over a large mossy log and I was about to pick up my pack when something caught my eye. The grey fur of a wallaby clearly stood out amongst the vibrant green undergrowth. Its neck appeared to have been broken by something hitting it with force. I carefully inspected the still warm corpse and I was in little doubt that this was a recent kill.

Purposely scanning the surrounding undergrowth, I listened carefully for any sound the perpetrator might be making in its haste to vacate the scene when it heard me coming, and this time I was mindful to sniff the air. I had the uneasy feeling I was being watched, although it was unlikely I would catch a glimpse of the culprit. Turning the wallaby over to examine its underbelly, I could feel warmth still coming from its body. There were no obvious abrasions on its pelt and as I lifted the lifeless carcass, its neck fell limply to one side. It was likely I had disturbed whatever had killed that wallaby before it could begin devouring its trophy. The possibility of a thylacine kill crossed my mind and I pondered the question — what would hit an animal the size of a Bennett’s wallaby with such force as to render it dead by sheer impact? Certainly not a devil, or a tiger cat, and most definitely not a wombat; so what then have we left amongst the larger bush animals capable of performing a kill of this nature? Considering it highly unlikely there were domestic dogs within 60 kilometres of the area, there is really only one reasonable answer. This spot was not all that many miles across country from my 1995 sighting, and if by chance it was a dog kill, it is unlikely the animal would have cleared out completely when it heard me coming. For some time I lingered there in the quiet of the forest pondering the answer to this perplexing question. The thought of a big cat kill did cross my mind, but I quickly discounted that possibility. The daunting thought of being stalked through the bush by a mountain lion or panther didn’t exactly enthral me, and it was after all, fanciful to even contemplate such a thing.

***

In early January 2001, I received an invitation from prominent Tasmanian devil researcher Menna Jones, who was working on a devil monitoring program for the University of Tasmania in the Freycinet National Park. Eric Guiler, who had previously done much field work with Tasmanian devils during his time at the University, was keen to join me. Several weeks later we headed for the beautiful Freycinet National Park, arriving late morning. We were soon off around the traps, with Menna showing us the logistics of the operation. Over the following three days we visited the project’s main field sites at Friendly Beaches, Cape Tourville and Moulting Lagoon, as well as various other localities within the Freycinet National Park. Menna demonstrated her prowess in handling the wild devils she had caught in specially adapted cage traps. She could handle completely wild tiger cats and devils and passed her techniques on to Eric Guiler and me.

These animals were subjected to various tests, and each was measured and weighed as well as having blood tests and general health checks. It was an ongoing program which had already been running for several years. All the devils caught were radio collared for tracking purposes before being released, thus aiding the tracking of the animals throughout the Freycinet Peninsula.

One disturbing discovery was the evidence of small weeping sores on the faces of some of the older devils, suggesting that something sinister may be taking place on the east coast. We now believe that these were the early warning signs of the devastating facial tumour disease, which has become so prevalent and is wiping out devil stocks in many areas of the island. Overall, it was a most rewarding time spent with one of the country’s foremost Tasmanian devil researchers. Through this hands-on experience I warmed considerably to this fascinating little marsupial.

***

Towards the end of January 2001, the finished copy of Tiger Tales finally arrived from HarperCollins. The publishers had done an initial print run of 7500 copies, the majority of these being dispatched to shops and retail outlets around the country. I was now faced with a hefty round of media engagements, radio and TV interviews as well as numerous newspaper and magazine articles. I was about to learn the exacting discipline of promoting my book.

Shortly after, Judy Tierney and the ABC’s 7.30 Report TV crew arrived to do a segment on my ongoing search for the tiger. Several days later I received a phone call from Melinda Standish representing RAW Films in Hobart. They were interested in doing a CD-ROM on the thylacine and were keen for me to participate. The idea had apparently originated from the recent travelling thylacine exhibition. Tim Cox of ABC radio’s 7ZR interviewed me on his morning program and suggested a talk-back segment. I also received a visit from journalist Bjorn Nordstrum, representing a leading Swedish newspaper and requesting an interview. Over the next few months, I moved progressively through the many radio interviews with various stations around the country.

On Saturday 10 February, I conducted my first book launch at the New Norfolk Newsagency and the following day at Fuller’s Bookshop in Hobart, and both sessions were well patronised. Several dignitaries attended the Hobart launch, including future Tasmanian premier, Lara Giddings, who not only purchased a signed copy of my book but caused my heart to flutter when she gave me a peck on the cheek for good measure. Lara, out of office at the time, was subsequently returned at the next state election and her political career has since blossomed.

It was encouraging, too, to hear that book sales were already exceeding expectations.

Towards the end of February, I received a visit from Patrick O’Neill, who was producing a documentary for a Discovery Channel series to be called The End of Extinction, concentrating mainly on the thylacine cloning issue. He expressed interest in interviewing me when he returned with his film crew in April.

Tiger Tales succeeded in making it into the Sunday Tasmanian’s top ten bestseller list during March 2001. Sales of the book were doing well and radio interviews were continuing to come thick and fast. There were three overseas TV documentary crews due to arrive the following month, and newspaper reviews around the country were continuing to generate good publicity. It was becoming somewhat overwhelming and I was wishing all would soon return to normal again. It gave me some indication of how hectic life would suddenly become if one were to produce indisputable evidence of a living thylacine.

In early April, another television team, the Japanese National Broadcasting channel NHK, arrived for a documentary shoot. They were making their way around Tasmania filming segments on native animals and the tiger was next on the list. I led them out to Mount Anne and then into the Florentine Valley where they filmed for most of the day.

On Sunday 8 April, I attended the official opening of the new Mount Field National Park Interpretation Centre. Built at a cost of several million dollars, this impressive complex was launched by the Tasmanian Minister for Wildlife, David Llewellyn, and Federal Senator Paul Calvert. It proved an imposing set up, and a huge improvement on the previously cramped reception centre facilities.

***

Veteran bushman and former wood mill owner Jim Hall phoned in response to one of my ‘Tiger Tales’ columns in the Gazette dealing with my visit to Freycinet to inspect Dr Menna Jones’s devil project.

‘I’d like to talk with Dr Jones about devils,’ he began. ‘I can tell you some shocking things about them. I’ve always said, God forbid if ever a toddler wanders off into the bush where devils are — they’ll never come back, you know. I’ve seen cows with their front feet eaten off. They wouldn’t touch the back feet because the cow would lash out at them. I once had the unpleasant duty of having to identify a chap who had been eaten by devils. They’d only left the soles of his boots and had even eaten the leather band on his wristwatch. There was very little of him left for me to identify, only the watch with an inscription on the back.’

‘Did you ever see a Tasmanian tiger on your travels through the bush?’ I asked.

‘The only tiger I ever saw was in the Hobart Zoo,’ Jim replied. ‘I think the tigers are all gone though. I don’t think there are any left. On Meadfield up at Bothwell, there’s a sort of stone fence — a lock-up place where they would put the sheep for the night. They reckoned the tigers used to hang around there a lot.’

‘Yes,’ I replied, ‘I’ve heard numerous stories about that place over the years. Tigers must have been numerous in that area in the old days. There are still plenty of devils there, even today!’

‘I can honestly say I’ve seen 30 dead devils lying around a poisoned sheep,’ Jim continued. ‘That was back in the Bothwell area. You’ve no idea how thick they’re becoming. When I first went to farm at Stonehenge, my neighbour asked me not to kill the devils, and now they’re in plague proportions. Whenever they eat a freshly dead animal, they’ll eat from the back up so the blood keeps flowing. I can give you all the information on devils you want. We’d come back from our spotlighting at Stonehenge and always do our gutting at a certain waterhole so we could wash up afterwards. And do you know, by the morning there wouldn’t be anything left. At Stonehenge the devils cleaned up 24 of my ducks one night. They ate my white stag too. If ever you want the lowdown on devils, I can give it to you.’

Mr Hall invited me to come and have a chat with him, an invitation I took up several weeks later, resulting in a most interesting interview about the devils. It is important to note that the disease that has since decimated Tasmanian devil numbers in many parts of the island was yet to come to prominence at the time of this interview.

In August, I travelled to Launceston to promote Tiger Tales to a meeting of the National Book Council. Thirty people from all sections of the community attended. I was blessed with a good, attentive audience who showed much interest in the subject, and asked many captivating questions following my talk. An elderly gentleman related a most interesting story about his early days on the family property at Royal George in north-eastern Tasmania. He could remember four tigers being shot after worrying the sheep while they were penned up for the night in a purpose-built stockade.

September 2001 saw the arrival of the Discovery Channel documentary crew from Sydney headed by Patrick O’Neill, and accompanied by Mike Archer, director of the Australian Museum in Sydney. Archer headed the experiment to clone a thylacine from DNA material and this documentary focussed largely on his cloning program. After the customary fare provided by my ever hospitable wife, we headed for the bush. The day was spent filming in the Adamsfield region, concentrating on the button grass plains adjoining the Clark huts, followed by a mocked up campfire scene in the nearby forest. The following day I led the crew into the Styx Valley, filming in the giant swamp gum forests before travelling up the Lake Dobson Road to the snowfields in the Mount Field National Park. Various sequences were shot on Wombat Moor and adjacent to the car park at the top of the road where recent snowfalls added a certain adventurous appeal to the resulting footage. I found Mike Archer a most interesting companion, and our conversations over those two days were many and varied. By the time I’d finished with him I reckon I had him half believing. All in all, working with this very professional crew proved an extremely worthwhile experience, and the resulting documentary was a resounding success.

Shortly after, I received a visit from Lothar Frenz, a German author and documentary-maker interested in producing a film on the thylacine. He was rounding up the usual panel of authorities connected with the thylacine and booked me for his return in approximately six months when he anticipated commencing filming.