SEAFORTH STAY MACQUARIE HEADS
LOCATION : Strahan
Images c/o Seaforth
Although this little shack is only young, having been built in 1965, she has had quite the adventure getting to where she sits now.
Like all good stories, hers has been passed onto me through word of mouth.
The beautiful locals, some of who’s families have been here since Strahan’s humble beginnings, know not only her history well, but also the history of the land in which she dwells. Now when I say adventure, I mean a good old fashioned road trip kind of adventure.
Not every house gets the luxury of travelling through the raw, un-tamed, and captivating landscape of the West Coast before finding its own place to call home. Seaforth is no ordinary shack in that sense, she once sat her sturdy bones in a little town called Gormanston, just outside Queenstown. So the story goes, she caught the eye of the mayor of Queenstown at the time, Peter Shultz. From what I have been told, ‘Shultzy’ was a much-loved figure head of the West Coast. It has been said that he had a good love of fishing, as do most West Coast inhabitants. He could have chosen a shack anywhere in Tasmania to go fishing, but instead he bought ‘Seaforth’ from Gormanston to the then named “Buoy Point” to be his fishing shack.
There is something undeniable about the way this land gets into your heart, once here some could stay forever. I guess that’s how Mr Schultz felt too. Of course, at that time however the road was not like it is today. It was somewhat of a goat trail out to the heads, and there was no road at all into Buoy Point. So, like all good West Coast ingenuity she was dragged across the button grass plains to find her resting place. A resting place of stillness and beauty untouched by the human hand, accessed only by water. The boggy, rugged land engulfing Seaforth was once glacial land and if you dig a few feet down the remnants of this time are held forever below a thick layer of peat. The smooth rounded rocks highlight the enormity of this ancient period.
To more present times however, the landscape has evolved to the rich peaty soil in which button grass and an array of native heaths, bottle brushes and tea trees thrive. It is this untouched wilderness that took my breath away nine years ago when Seaforth so gracefully found her place in my heart. Although I cannot claim to be a local inhabitant of this beautiful land, I did live in Strahan as an infant when my parents so fortunately resided here for my father’s work. I grew up hearing stories of the West Coast lifestyle and awe-inspiring beauty. But I do truly believe that the feeling we get in some environments are passed on to us through our ancestors and live on in our soul. Seaforth for me is that place.
Seaforth did eventually get a little trail into her resting place. This access has meant that others now can sit as she does among this privileged, untamed and raw view of the West Coast. The name given to that road was Seaforth.