Smiles lit up their faces, loving an adventure far away from a cricket oval or soccer pitch where most adventures took place. 

A crusty loaf of bread was all they had to eat; like shipwrecked sailors who collided with the shore of a dangerous coastline but survived to tell the tale. 

On that day they didn’t have very much – but they had everything.

The trip was not well planned. The dad worked in a factory that made having a rest far more important than recreation on Sundays, when making money from extra work wasn’t available. 

Their car – an orange XY Ford Falcon wagon – waited patiently at the Triabunna Wharf. It was beautifully washed and polished, yet far from luxurious like a Ford Mustang. 

The mum was concerned about sea sickness on the 30-minute crossing, reminding her of their first voyage from England to Fremantle, Western Australia. But there was no time to visit the shop for tablets to settle her stomach or they’d miss the ferry.

They were bound for Maria Island named by famous Dutch explorer Abel Tasman after Maria van Dieman. 

The island – a national park – was proclaimed to protect animals like a modern-day Noah’s Ark. From Forester kangaroos, Bennetts wallabies and Flinders Island wombats to Cape Barren geese, Native hens and Tasmanian devils, they all found their home on the island.

The Puthikwilayti band of the Oyster Bay tribe of Aborigines lived on Maria Island, leaving clues, which still exist, of how they survived. 

French explorers, sealers, and whalers who bludgeoned and harpooned giant mammals for their blubber and oil, met the First Peoples. 

Whaling made men rich and they built grand houses in Hobart. Thankfully, Australians no longer kill whales to make themselves a fortune.

After the whalers left, people tried to make a living on the island in different ways. 

Diego Bernacchi built a concrete plant using the island’s limestone. It wasn’t very successful because times were tough and there wasn’t much money to be made. Some years later, they tried to blow up the reinforced concrete chimney stack with dynamite, but it barely left a scratch.

The younger son felt a connection to the island. From that first trip, cold and hungry, to visiting with school children as a teacher, the place held special memories.

It was the remoteness that made him happy. The feeling of being away. Away from phones and interruptions and decisions and sharing a special place with people who could make their own memories. 

The school children bunked at Darlington Convict Settlement and Probation Station, a gaol for prisoners who committed less serious crimes. A haunting place to sleep and very basic but all you needed after a long day exploring the island. 

Together they climbed Bishop and Clerk, a mountain top providing beautiful views of Freycinet Peninsula, only enjoyed after making sure the team member struggling the most was looked after.

Meals were created together with Trangia, fuelled by methylated spirits, on the veranda before the mess hall was upgraded. Whilst cooking, and just below the veranda, stinging nettles were accidentally discovered.   Stingose from the first aid kit relieved the pain and itchiness.

In recent times, the younger son’s children were fascinated by Tasmanian devils arriving on the island to protect them from disease and extinction. 

They watched a documentary and asked questions about how Reba, Remmy and Manny were enjoying their new home. The father adored answering. 

Manny’s death after becoming trapped in a burrow that collapsed when the wombat owner returned, made them sad.

The older son, like the younger son, looked back with happiness on that first visit. It was an adventure and it was cold and windy, but it was memorable and fun.

The family will return to Maria Island National Park, not together as they once were, instead with new members. But on the next voyage, a crusty loaf of bread will not be all they take.  

Sometimes the best days are when we don’t have very much – but we do have each other.