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WhiteWATER R AF TING<br />
38<br />
<str<strong>on</strong>g>While</str<strong>on</strong>g> <strong>on</strong> a <strong>whitewater</strong> <strong>rafting</strong> <strong>trip</strong> <strong>to</strong><br />
<strong>find</strong> <strong>out</strong> <strong>the</strong> <strong>truth</strong> ab<strong>out</strong> <strong>an</strong> enigmatic<br />
local legend, Andrew Harris unlocks <strong>the</strong><br />
secret of Murray Gates Gorge’s<br />
enduring appeal<br />
pho<strong>to</strong>graphy PHOTOLIBRARY<br />
tiger tales jul-aug
‘I haven’t<br />
seen it like<br />
this for a<br />
l<strong>on</strong>g time…’<br />
It’s dusk at Tom Groggin Stati<strong>on</strong> <strong>on</strong><br />
<strong>the</strong> slopes of <strong>the</strong> Snowy Mountains <strong>an</strong>d<br />
river guide Lint<strong>on</strong> Smith falls quiet as he<br />
sc<strong>an</strong>s a raging stretch of <strong>the</strong> Murray River.<br />
We’ve been pl<strong>an</strong>ning <strong>to</strong> hit it in inflatable<br />
kayaks, but with <strong>the</strong> catchment at Thredbo<br />
<strong>an</strong>d Falls Creek swollen from <strong>an</strong> <strong>on</strong>going<br />
downpour that beg<strong>an</strong> <strong>the</strong> previous night,<br />
it’s 14ft raft time.<br />
Expat C<strong>an</strong>adi<strong>an</strong> river guide Caleb “The<br />
Real Bear Grylls” Feasby <strong>an</strong>d apprentice<br />
Steve “D<strong>on</strong>’t Call Me ‘Grasshopper’”<br />
Eeles join us <strong>on</strong> our adventure. Caleb, who<br />
famously completed a first descent of <strong>the</strong><br />
Mor<strong>an</strong> <strong>an</strong>d Mitchell Rivers in <strong>the</strong> Kimberley<br />
in 19 days, has been down this gorge<br />
before. For Steve <strong>an</strong>d me, it’s <strong>the</strong> first time.<br />
Less th<strong>an</strong> a week from <strong>the</strong> winter<br />
solstice, ground support is impossible.<br />
Access roads are closed <strong>an</strong>d <strong>an</strong>y<strong>on</strong>e with<br />
<strong>an</strong>y sense is hibernating. It’s time <strong>to</strong> pack<br />
<strong>the</strong> dry bags for <strong>the</strong> first Murray Gates<br />
40 41<br />
less th<strong>an</strong> a week from <strong>the</strong> winter solstice, ground<br />
support is impossible. Access roads are closed <strong>an</strong>d<br />
<strong>an</strong>y<strong>on</strong>e with <strong>an</strong>y sense is hibernating. time <strong>to</strong> pack <strong>the</strong><br />
dry bags for <strong>the</strong> seas<strong>on</strong>’s first murray gates gorge run<br />
Caleb <strong>an</strong>d Steve inflate <strong>the</strong> raft<br />
at Tom Groggin Stati<strong>on</strong><br />
Gorge run of <strong>the</strong> seas<strong>on</strong>. There’s a sec<strong>on</strong>d<br />
reas<strong>on</strong> we’re paddling – we’re following <strong>the</strong><br />
trail of a legendary modern-day hermit, <strong>the</strong><br />
late Fr<strong>an</strong>k “Pop” Thoms<strong>on</strong>.<br />
<str<strong>on</strong>g>While</str<strong>on</strong>g> <strong>rafting</strong> <strong>the</strong> Mitta Mitta River with<br />
Lint<strong>on</strong> previously, we had talked ab<strong>out</strong> who<br />
lived <strong>out</strong> in <strong>the</strong> wilderness of north-east<br />
Vic<strong>to</strong>ria. He menti<strong>on</strong>ed a hermit who had<br />
frequented <strong>an</strong> area al<strong>on</strong>g <strong>the</strong> Murray River<br />
near <strong>the</strong> Murray Gates. Lint<strong>on</strong> had heard<br />
s<strong>to</strong>ries in <strong>an</strong>d around <strong>the</strong> small <strong>to</strong>wn of<br />
Corry<strong>on</strong>g ab<strong>out</strong> <strong>an</strong> unkempt old m<strong>an</strong><br />
surfacing for supplies, piquing every<strong>on</strong>e’s<br />
curiosity, scaring <strong>the</strong> kids <strong>an</strong>d <strong>the</strong>n<br />
v<strong>an</strong>ishing again back <strong>to</strong> <strong>the</strong> bush. Lint<strong>on</strong><br />
reck<strong>on</strong>ed if we ever did <strong>the</strong> gates, <strong>the</strong><br />
river’s turbulent birthplace, <strong>the</strong> hermit’s<br />
s<strong>to</strong>ry might be worth investigating.<br />
It’s earlier in <strong>the</strong> day <strong>an</strong>d we’re in<br />
Corry<strong>on</strong>g – populati<strong>on</strong> 1,500, 450km<br />
north-east of Melbourne – for supplies.<br />
St<strong>an</strong>ding <strong>out</strong> fr<strong>on</strong>t of his sports s<strong>to</strong>recum-barber<br />
shop – a half century-old<br />
local instituti<strong>on</strong> – 80-year-old R<strong>on</strong> “Hobie”<br />
Hob<strong>an</strong> remembers Pop Thoms<strong>on</strong> f<strong>on</strong>dly.<br />
“I used <strong>to</strong> cut his hair… he was a bloody<br />
good old fella,” he tells me, admitting that<br />
it might have been 50 years since he last<br />
saw Pop. “We all liked him,” he adds, <strong>the</strong>n<br />
turns his eyes east <strong>to</strong> <strong>the</strong> s<strong>to</strong>rm rolling in<strong>to</strong><br />
<strong>to</strong>wn al<strong>on</strong>g <strong>the</strong> Murray Valley Highway. The<br />
Unloading <strong>the</strong> raft<br />
<strong>on</strong> <strong>the</strong> riverb<strong>an</strong>k<br />
Trevor Davis, stati<strong>on</strong><br />
m<strong>an</strong>ager of Tom<br />
Groggin Stati<strong>on</strong><br />
Lint<strong>on</strong> surveys <strong>the</strong><br />
river ahead<br />
WHITEWATER R AF TING<br />
Ready <strong>to</strong> roll at Tom<br />
Groggin Stati<strong>on</strong><br />
R<strong>on</strong><br />
“Hobie”<br />
Hob<strong>an</strong><br />
pho<strong>to</strong>graphy Andrew Harris<br />
tiger tales jul-aug<br />
jul-aug tiger tales
WHITEWATER R AF TING<br />
rain comes, turns horiz<strong>on</strong>tal <strong>an</strong>d drives<br />
R<strong>on</strong> inside. A neighbouring shop owner<br />
points at our trailer of inflatable kayaks <strong>an</strong>d<br />
sh<strong>out</strong>s, “You might be needing those so<strong>on</strong>.”<br />
That evening at Tom Groggin Stati<strong>on</strong>,<br />
we’re <strong>out</strong> in a hut that <strong>on</strong>ce sheltered<br />
Jack Riley, believed by some <strong>to</strong> be bush<br />
poet B<strong>an</strong>jo Paters<strong>on</strong>’s “M<strong>an</strong> From Snowy<br />
River”. Nobody knows if <strong>the</strong> legendary<br />
<strong>out</strong>doorsm<strong>an</strong> was actually a composite of<br />
m<strong>an</strong>y local cattlem<strong>an</strong>. It’s possible that our<br />
hermit, Pop, is remembered similarly; <strong>the</strong><br />
lines between him <strong>an</strong>d o<strong>the</strong>r bush-dwelling<br />
l<strong>on</strong>ers have been blurred.<br />
The next morning, stati<strong>on</strong> m<strong>an</strong>ager<br />
Trevor Davis, who grew up in <strong>the</strong> area, tells<br />
me what he knows ab<strong>out</strong> Pop. “I think he<br />
was in World War II, <strong>an</strong>d after that he came<br />
back <strong>to</strong> <strong>the</strong> city but couldn’t cope with city<br />
life. I d<strong>on</strong>’t know how he got that bit of l<strong>an</strong>d<br />
up in Bunroy. He built a humpy <strong>an</strong>d it just<br />
grew from <strong>the</strong>re. He was a bit of a weird old<br />
And <strong>the</strong>n <strong>the</strong>re’s <strong>the</strong> first-run fac<strong>to</strong>r.<br />
Lint<strong>on</strong> explains that <strong>the</strong>re could be all sorts<br />
of “new wood” such as fallen trees in <strong>the</strong><br />
river, <strong>an</strong>d o<strong>the</strong>r debris like clo<strong>the</strong>slines that<br />
could trap rafters <strong>an</strong>d <strong>to</strong>ss <strong>the</strong>m overboard<br />
in<strong>to</strong> <strong>the</strong> freezing water.<br />
At low-water levels, <strong>the</strong> Murray Gates<br />
dem<strong>an</strong>ds a frustrating degree of technical<br />
know-how. At near-flood levels, it’s <strong>on</strong>e<br />
l<strong>on</strong>g, fierce stretch. And at its current level<br />
of 1.2m – far <strong>to</strong>o much water for kayaks –<br />
it’s fit <strong>on</strong>ly for our much larger raft.<br />
Once we’re afloat, chatter drops <strong>to</strong> a<br />
minimum. An icy breeze blows upriver,<br />
numbing us silent. We’re listening for <strong>the</strong><br />
first rush of <strong>the</strong> rapids. Guiding from <strong>the</strong><br />
rear, Lint<strong>on</strong> instructs us clearly: “Look<br />
<strong>out</strong> for new wood”. The river will usually<br />
flow over or around rocks, but when a tree<br />
splashes in<strong>to</strong> <strong>the</strong> water, it creates “sieves”<br />
or “strainers” that c<strong>an</strong> puncture or trap<br />
rafts <strong>an</strong>d suck people under. In lower water,<br />
Lint<strong>on</strong> would have brought a chainsaw<br />
al<strong>on</strong>g for <strong>the</strong> ride.<br />
The rain comes <strong>an</strong>d<br />
Then, <strong>the</strong> roar begins. “Head breaker”,<br />
quickly turns horiz<strong>on</strong>tal.<br />
it’s called. Lint<strong>on</strong> screams over <strong>the</strong> din<br />
a shop owner points<br />
of rushing water, “Get ready <strong>to</strong> forward<br />
42 at our trailer of<br />
paddle! Forward paddle! Go hard!” Then,<br />
it’s “S<strong>to</strong>p! S<strong>to</strong>p!” followed by a fr<strong>an</strong>tic<br />
43<br />
inflatable kayaks <strong>an</strong>d<br />
“Back paddle!” And so it goes. So<strong>on</strong>, at<br />
sh<strong>out</strong>s, ‘you might be<br />
“Off <strong>the</strong> Wall” – <strong>on</strong>e of <strong>the</strong> river’s<br />
needing those so<strong>on</strong>’<br />
colourfully named rapids – we graze a rock<br />
guy. He had a couple of little dogs. He did<br />
a little bit of gold prospecting up <strong>the</strong>re –<br />
he actually taught us how <strong>to</strong> prospect for<br />
gold.” Trevor says Pop showed him how<br />
<strong>to</strong> dig with a teaspo<strong>on</strong> in<strong>to</strong> certain rock<br />
crevices for flecks <strong>an</strong>d tiny nuggets. Pop<br />
had a couple of jars of gold, he reck<strong>on</strong>s. The<br />
old m<strong>an</strong> went in<strong>to</strong> <strong>to</strong>wn every Saturday,<br />
Trevor says, <strong>an</strong>d <strong>on</strong>e afterno<strong>on</strong> he returned<br />
<strong>to</strong> <strong>find</strong> his stash had been s<strong>to</strong>len. “Not l<strong>on</strong>g<br />
after that, he fell <strong>to</strong> pieces.”<br />
The Murray Gates Gorge is first-class<br />
<strong>whitewater</strong>. Located more th<strong>an</strong> 510km from<br />
Melbourne, it’s vehicle-accessible <strong>on</strong>ly<br />
in summer. Lint<strong>on</strong> w<strong>on</strong>’t grade individual<br />
rapids for me – 20 are signific<strong>an</strong>t enough <strong>to</strong><br />
have earned names – but he does c<strong>on</strong>cede<br />
that it’s a very technical, grade-four river.<br />
On <strong>the</strong> six-grade Internati<strong>on</strong>al Scale of<br />
River Difficulty, that makes it suitable<br />
<strong>on</strong>ly for expert boatmen. The Murray is so<br />
narrow that <strong>the</strong>re’s <strong>on</strong>ly <strong>on</strong>e right line or<br />
r<strong>out</strong>e through each rapid. “If you do make a<br />
mistake,” Lint<strong>on</strong> says, “you’re in <strong>the</strong> poo.”<br />
Lint<strong>on</strong> Smith Steve Eeles Caleb Feasby<br />
pho<strong>to</strong>graphy Andrew Harris<br />
Steve <strong>an</strong>d Caleb<br />
negotiate a rapid<br />
Lint<strong>on</strong>, Caleb <strong>an</strong>d<br />
Steve in a tight spot<br />
wall before m<strong>an</strong>oeuvring past.<br />
Lint<strong>on</strong>’s approach is eleg<strong>an</strong>t – minimal<br />
effort with maximal <strong>out</strong>put. He heads<br />
<strong>to</strong>wards obstacles <strong>an</strong>d <strong>the</strong>n makes small<br />
adjustments <strong>to</strong> pass <strong>the</strong>m. Better this th<strong>an</strong><br />
going <strong>out</strong> of his way <strong>to</strong> avoid things <strong>an</strong>d<br />
having <strong>to</strong> over-correct in a big way.<br />
Still, at “Shark’s Tooth” he deems<br />
passage unsafe so we undertake a heavy<br />
portage over a fallen tree. So well-chosen<br />
are Lint<strong>on</strong>’s lines that <strong>the</strong>re are remarkably<br />
few “overs”, where a crew must leap “over<br />
left” or “over right” <strong>to</strong> inst<strong>an</strong>t<strong>an</strong>eously<br />
counterbal<strong>an</strong>ce a flipping raft. At “The<br />
Thing”, a nasty bit of rock nearly flips us,<br />
but Caleb shunts himself across <strong>the</strong> raft<br />
<strong>to</strong> stabilise us. Later, he gives <strong>an</strong> encore<br />
perform<strong>an</strong>ce at “Hole in <strong>the</strong> Head”.<br />
“The Rock Garden” is a lengthy, fast,<br />
pinball-like ride with a “flip-rock” at <strong>the</strong><br />
bot<strong>to</strong>m, which we avoid. We’re all buzzing,<br />
working like <strong>the</strong> well-oiled machine a<br />
<strong>rafting</strong> crew needs <strong>to</strong> be.<br />
The last signific<strong>an</strong>t rapid is “Jellyfish<br />
Rock”, so named because people try <strong>to</strong> go<br />
left instead of right <strong>an</strong>d end up with <strong>the</strong>ir<br />
tiger tales jul-aug<br />
jul-aug tiger tales
WHITEWATER R AF TING<br />
Caleb tests <strong>out</strong> <strong>an</strong><br />
ab<strong>an</strong>d<strong>on</strong>ed boat<br />
Lint<strong>on</strong> <strong>an</strong>d Caleb<br />
portage past a narrow<br />
secti<strong>on</strong> of <strong>the</strong> river<br />
<strong>the</strong> last rapid is ‘jellyfish<br />
rock’, so named because<br />
people try <strong>to</strong> go left<br />
instead of right <strong>an</strong>d end<br />
up pinned against a rock<br />
45<br />
pho<strong>to</strong>graphy Andrew Harris<br />
What <strong>to</strong> bring:<br />
Gear hung up<br />
<strong>to</strong> dry at camp<br />
If it’s <strong>to</strong>o cold <strong>to</strong> get wet, <strong>on</strong>ly a<br />
drysuit will keep you happy. The NRS<br />
Extreme Relief Drysuit is durable,<br />
waterproof, breathable <strong>an</strong>d with<br />
its built-in latex booties, qualifies<br />
as a paddler’s best friend in winter.<br />
Wear a thick pair of Merino socks<br />
inside <strong>the</strong> booties, a pair of NRS<br />
HydroSkin socks <strong>on</strong> <strong>the</strong> <strong>out</strong>side, <strong>an</strong>d<br />
stuff <strong>the</strong> works in<strong>to</strong> a pair of tacky,<br />
hard-wearing NRS Attack Shoes. As<br />
for your h<strong>an</strong>ds, wear a pair of NRS<br />
Maverick Gloves, made of heavy-duty<br />
neoprene, featuring a grippy textured<br />
palm <strong>an</strong>d insulated with flecks of<br />
heat-reflecting tit<strong>an</strong>ium. For more<br />
informati<strong>on</strong>, visit www.nrsweb.com.<br />
boat pinned against a rock. We avoid that<br />
fate <strong>an</strong>d <strong>the</strong>n nearly end up missing our<br />
destinati<strong>on</strong>, Surveyor’s Camp. The old<br />
piece of c<strong>an</strong>oe that was supposed <strong>to</strong> have<br />
been nailed <strong>to</strong> a tree <strong>to</strong> mark <strong>the</strong> way is<br />
missing. With daylight fading fast, we catch<br />
sight of <strong>the</strong> track leading <strong>to</strong> <strong>the</strong> camp in <strong>the</strong><br />
nick of time.<br />
The rain eases up l<strong>on</strong>g enough for us <strong>to</strong><br />
cook, eat <strong>an</strong>d thaw by <strong>the</strong> campfire. Then it<br />
settles in for <strong>the</strong> night. Greedily lapping up<br />
<strong>the</strong> deluge, <strong>the</strong> river rushes by below <strong>an</strong>d I<br />
drift in<strong>to</strong> <strong>whitewater</strong> dreams.<br />
The next day, we paddle <strong>on</strong> <strong>to</strong> Pop’s old<br />
s<strong>to</strong>mping ground. L<strong>on</strong>g, loose unnamed<br />
rapids alternate with flat stretches where<br />
we spy platypus feeding <strong>on</strong> goodies<br />
brought by <strong>the</strong> rains. Huge brown birds<br />
swoop down from nearby cliffs <strong>an</strong>d fly<br />
ahead of us. The water is so pristine that we<br />
drink straight from <strong>the</strong> river. All <strong>the</strong> while, a<br />
Lint<strong>on</strong> dem<strong>on</strong>strates<br />
what <strong>to</strong> do when a<br />
rafter goes overboard<br />
fine rain sprays down. So<strong>on</strong> we’re paddling<br />
down <strong>to</strong> a bend in <strong>the</strong> river where we were<br />
<strong>to</strong>ld that Pop <strong>on</strong>ce p<strong>an</strong>ned for gold. It’s<br />
called “Little Niche” <strong>the</strong>se days but it’s still<br />
known locally as “Pop’s Farm”.<br />
After leaving <strong>the</strong> raft, labouring up a<br />
steep cutting, <strong>the</strong>n descending in<strong>to</strong> a tiny,<br />
sheltered valley, we <strong>find</strong> two generati<strong>on</strong>s of<br />
Pop’s descendents awaiting us with tea <strong>an</strong>d<br />
biscuits in a fire-warmed <strong>out</strong>building.<br />
Free of our drysuits, we sit down with<br />
I<strong>an</strong> “Thommo” Thomps<strong>on</strong>, I<strong>an</strong>’s daughter<br />
Julie Martin <strong>an</strong>d daughter-in-law Di<strong>an</strong>e<br />
jul-aug tiger tales
WHITEWATER R AF TING<br />
I<strong>an</strong> “Thommo” Thomps<strong>on</strong>,<br />
<strong>the</strong> hermit’s s<strong>on</strong><br />
“Pop” Thomps<strong>on</strong>, <strong>the</strong><br />
hermit himself<br />
I<strong>an</strong> Thomps<strong>on</strong> displays<br />
pho<strong>to</strong>s of his fa<strong>the</strong>r<br />
Pop Thomps<strong>on</strong>’s<br />
old paddlewheel<br />
genera<strong>to</strong>r<br />
Pop’s shack, left, with<br />
modern additi<strong>on</strong><br />
46<br />
Thomps<strong>on</strong>. It turns <strong>out</strong> that I<strong>an</strong>’s dad, Pop,<br />
moved down <strong>to</strong> this patch of bush in <strong>the</strong><br />
early ’70s. That’s when <strong>the</strong> s<strong>to</strong>ry beg<strong>an</strong>.<br />
Access <strong>the</strong>n was extremely difficult.<br />
Getting here required a <strong>trip</strong> down a rough<br />
logging road followed by a lengthy hike.<br />
It’s 44km from Corry<strong>on</strong>g <strong>an</strong>d you w<strong>on</strong>’t<br />
<strong>find</strong> it <strong>on</strong> Google Maps. Pop set up a simple<br />
shelter <strong>an</strong>d negotiated with <strong>the</strong> l<strong>an</strong>downer<br />
How <strong>to</strong> do it:<br />
Lint<strong>on</strong> Smith’s Rafting<br />
Australia offers guided <strong>trip</strong>s<br />
through <strong>the</strong> Murray Gates. The<br />
comp<strong>an</strong>y c<strong>an</strong> sort <strong>out</strong> your entire<br />
adventure, including tr<strong>an</strong>sport from<br />
Melbourne <strong>an</strong>d accommodati<strong>on</strong> near<br />
or <strong>on</strong> <strong>the</strong> river, but you’ll need <strong>to</strong> do<br />
a less-intense paddle or two with<br />
Rafting Australia first. tel: (0)2 6077<br />
1164, www.<strong>rafting</strong>australia.com<br />
<strong>to</strong> buy a few hectares, including a creek.<br />
To supply needed power, he arr<strong>an</strong>ged for<br />
a micro-scale hydro-electricity pl<strong>an</strong>t <strong>to</strong> be<br />
built from a paddle wheel <strong>an</strong>d bits of <strong>an</strong> old<br />
washing machine. It was wired <strong>to</strong> <strong>an</strong> array<br />
of lead-acid batteries.<br />
I<strong>an</strong> doesn’t know what year he was<br />
born, but he reck<strong>on</strong>s he’s ab<strong>out</strong> 75. Pop<br />
died in 2000 when he was in his early 90s.<br />
“Still a grumpy old bastard,” Julie says.<br />
The property was passed down <strong>to</strong> I<strong>an</strong><br />
<strong>an</strong>d it’s now <strong>an</strong> extended-family holiday<br />
spot. There’s Pop Thoms<strong>on</strong> memorabilia<br />
through<strong>out</strong> <strong>the</strong> three-room hut, but no <strong>on</strong>e<br />
lives here perm<strong>an</strong>ently <strong>an</strong>ymore.<br />
I<strong>an</strong> says his dad was a champi<strong>on</strong><br />
riflem<strong>an</strong> but he never went <strong>to</strong> war <strong>an</strong>d was<br />
never even called up. He worked <strong>on</strong> <strong>the</strong><br />
railroads, where his labours <strong>an</strong>d those of<br />
o<strong>the</strong>rs like him were vital <strong>to</strong> <strong>the</strong> war effort.<br />
“Pop was basically a hermit,” Di<strong>an</strong>e says.<br />
“He had a couple of Shetl<strong>an</strong>d p<strong>on</strong>ies, dogs<br />
<strong>an</strong>d he just loved living here <strong>on</strong> his own.<br />
He knew how <strong>to</strong> ‘tickle’ <strong>the</strong> fish. In <strong>the</strong> dark<br />
areas, you creep up, reach under <strong>an</strong>d tickle<br />
<strong>the</strong>m <strong>an</strong>d you’re able <strong>to</strong> pick <strong>the</strong>m up.”<br />
It’s not entirely clear why Pop became<br />
a hermit. If <strong>the</strong> family knows <strong>the</strong> reas<strong>on</strong>,<br />
<strong>the</strong>y’re not saying. They do tell me that<br />
his marriage broke up <strong>an</strong>d that he came<br />
here <strong>to</strong> escape. Julie says it was “To repent<br />
his sins.” Whatever Pop’s reas<strong>on</strong>s, by <strong>the</strong><br />
time he had embroidered himself in<strong>to</strong> <strong>the</strong><br />
fabric of local lore, he had already become<br />
well plugged in <strong>to</strong> <strong>the</strong> untamed wilderness<br />
here. It’s much <strong>the</strong> same for <strong>an</strong>y<strong>on</strong>e who<br />
likes <strong>to</strong> get <strong>out</strong> in<strong>to</strong> <strong>the</strong> bush – including us.<br />
We’re just four happy paddlers who made it<br />
through <strong>the</strong> first run of <strong>the</strong> seas<strong>on</strong>, leaving<br />
<strong>the</strong> Murray Gates swinging <strong>on</strong> <strong>the</strong>ir hinges.<br />
Tiger Airways has multiple daily<br />
flights <strong>to</strong> <strong>an</strong>d from Melbourne.<br />
Book flights at www.tigerairways.<br />
com<br />
pho<strong>to</strong>graphy Andrew Harris<br />
tiger tales jul-aug