It seemed like a typical day for Hank Horton's grandfather, working on cray boats on Flinders Island in the 1950s.
But when he arrived home, he was confronted with the family's entire belongings packed up on the back of a ute. They were being relocated to mainland Tasmania as part of a government Aboriginal assimilation program, joining six other Aboriginal families on a rocky piece of land at Reedy Marsh, near Deloraine.
"They weren't asked, or to volunteer to be moved as it was portrayed that they were. It wasn't like that," Mr Horton said.
"Those seven families built houses there at Reedy Marsh. They were shanties really, not houses. Pop wasn't a builder, he was a black fella from the islands. All of a sudden he was trying to build a house for 14 kids. They had to live in this tiny place - a kitchen, dining room, one bedroom."
One of those 14 kids was Mr Horton's mother. She later married a Deloraine man and they had four children. She often encountered racism - such as taxis refusing to pick her up - but Mr Horton said it was not something he carried with him. He still lives in the same circa-1917 house where five generations of his father's family have grown up.
Mr Horton likes to reflect on the good times from his childhood exploring the Meander Valley, muttonbirding with family back on the islands and sharing stories with cousins, aunts and uncles. They are passions that he's enjoyed his entire life, leading him to his calling: Aboriginal cultural guiding.
He was the first Aboriginal person in Tasmania to complete a Certificate IV in Guiding, and in the late-1990s, he and two brothers established the state's first Aboriginal tourism business Jahadi Aboriginal Experiences which won two Tasmanian tourism awards.
"For me, that was an apprenticeship into tourism. It opened my eyes up, and now I've got to a point where I can train others after later getting a certificate in training and assessing," Mr Horton said.
They ran Jahadi for eight years until the tourism downturn forced them to close in 2007, but Mr Horton was determined to continue exploring the potential of Aboriginal cultural tourism.
He said there was growing interest from international visitors to have genuine Aboriginal experiences. He continues to run day visits out of Deloraine, and although tourism has dried up in 2020, he anticipated demand to return once more.
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"Deloraine and the Meander Valley are loaded with wonderful natural features, the sandstone escarpments, the caves and shelters we can visit and talk about the ochre pits out there," Mr Horton said.
"We explain to people about the trade from the ochre and other resources that were traded and used."
He lends his cultural knowledge to advisory councils for the World Heritage Area, national parks and Heritage Council, as well as the wukalina walk on the North East Coast, but he believes his most important work is in schools as part of the Aboriginal Sharers of Knowledge program.
"Let's go and educate the younger generation, the ones coming through primary school now who are going to be the four-wheel-drivers or the guys out there later on down the track," Mr Horton said.
"If we can educate them now, then when they do get to that level where they start doing that.
"It's surprising how much pressure a couple of kids in the back seat of a four-wheel-drive can have on dad when they say 'dad. you're going across a midden', if that kid knows, the kid will force the education onto the dad."
Sharing this knowledge is also crucial within the Aboriginal community. Mr Horton enjoys taking his grandson muttonbirding, where he can hear stories from other families while visiting the islands - the positive stories and positive interactions, made possible by the struggles of the previous generations.
"As much as we want to relay that hardship that our parents and grandparents went through so the younger generations understand the struggles and the fight we had, and how the reason why we are in a good spot today is because of what those poor old fellas went through way back, we also don't want to cloud their minds with negative images all their life," he said.
"When you get around the campfire with those guys, you talk about the happy stories, the good memories. That's when you realise what a lucky life we had to grow up the way we grew up, because of the struggles of the old people."