WORDS KELLY PUMMEROY
Beach house, holiday house, summer house,
vacationer… in Tasmania there is only one
word for all of the above – the shack
D
aisy and Rex’s retirement home was never a
traditional shack because they lived there full
time and the garden was not filled with jack
jumpers and buzzies. But Lewisham has long
been a popular shack town. When Bec and George
spotted their Love Shack, they couldn’t have known
that they would be carving a future for their new little
family in a corner of the country that’s at the heart of
Australian shack culture.
Once upon a time, because of the shack, Tasmanians
were the most likely to possess more than one
residence. If you didn’t have a shack of your own you
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would know someone who did. And they would tell
you where the keys were kept, where the birko was
kept and to “leave it as you find it”.
Shack etiquette might include a note left to warn
that the loo paper is in short supply or the tea bags
are out, that a snake’s been spotted under the water
tank, how to prime the pump, who can fix it if it’s on
the blink and what day the rubbish is collected.
The shack was where your old stuff went. There was
no television – just books, board games and nights
by the fire. All while wearing your old ‘shack clothes’,
with shack hair and hardened feet. And thanks to
the active days, the sea air and the odd beer or two,
there was a particular kind of deep shack sleep too.
As life in the city is all Bec and George know, it may
take time for the essence and simplicity of life in
Lewisham to seep in.
“I’m really looking forward to taking Dad fishing,”
George says. “He’ll love it.”