One of the best days I have had on-site was the first time I walked to the top of the main dune and took in the now Radiata Pine-less vista, revealing the full scale and expanse of the site. I knew the dunescape had massive potential. I hoped we could get glimpses of the bay, mountain, and possibly the beach, but I wasn’t prepared for just how grand, open, and spectacular the site would look tidied up. To line up approach shots with Spectacle Island, tee shots with the mountain, and a skyline green that appears to float amongst the clouds were unimaginable features before. The Pines had hidden more than the next one hundred meters, they had pulled a shroud across a stunning beauty.
Why the trees were allowed to propagate and remain unmanaged for such a long time is a question for others to debate. We have vast amounts of the area under public management in Tasmania and parks are often overwhelmed and have limited resources. It’s easy to see how the slow creep of pine trees could happen.
I have taken many golfers and non-golfers for tours of the site-some aware of the hype, some skeptical, and some think we are crazy. I made every one of them trudge up to the top of the dune. Every one of them looks across the site in stunned silence; it’s my favorite reaction of which I will never tire.
I think I know why but I don’t think I’ll tell you. I’ll let you experience that for yourself one day.
One would think all of this positive news post-tree removal would only embolden my confidence that we are on the cusp of fulfilling our wildest expectations. On the contrary, it has increased my anxiety and creeping thoughts of “what if” crop up. Just to let you into how my mind works:
Say a design competition was commissioned which gave developers five raw, untouched pieces of land to design. Imagine sites like Royal Melbourne, Kingston Heath, Barnbougle Dunes, Cape Wickham, and Seven Mile Beach. Say we got Seven Mile Beach and lost that competition? Oof (and insert gritted teeth emoji.)
So as I slowly descend into the anxiety-induced quagmire of my own making mixed with the inherent self-deprecating humility which growing up in a place equating success as arrogance and big dreams as something to be openly disparaged, I wrap myself in my very own trip blanket that is Clayton DeVries & Pont and ride this journey out, white-knuckled and excited for the discovery and transformation that awaits.
Basking in the fleeting moments of calm, my mind is quieted knowing full well that the people commissioned to execute a lifelong dream are world-class, hard-working, and fully vested in the outcome. The core crew brings sage wisdom from decades of practice, now mixing it with youthful exuberance and a dash of naive arrogance. As Bob Ross would say: “We don’t make mistakes, just happy little accidents.”
Oh, I forgot the progress report:
-Irrigation infrastructure is on track
-1,2,13,14 roughed in
-and we have a caravan from 1974
L.F.G !
