The Rotters (Rescue One Tree )


Back in the 1920's Hector McWilliam planted a lone tree out on One Tree Point.

It stood the test of the elements until the early 1990's.

First of all some upper branches were sawn off (above) and then in November 1991 it was ringbarked.

A fortnight later an attempt was made to blow it up.

A desperate attempt was made by the local horticulturalist and volunteers to save it but once again vandals intervened by severing the watering hose.

Just over a year later it was proclaimed as dead.

The timber was retrieved and preserved with many small pieces turned from the branches and trunk including the Mayoral Gavel and base in use by Eurobodalla Shire Council.

A volunteer Group from the community were assembled and from their toil a new tree was planted in July 1994.

These were "The Rotters" and here is the story, in newsprint and in photos, of their labour, their commitment and their dedication to returning the icon of Tuross Head back to its community

Click on this link to see a slide show of photos


News: Vandals trash Tuross landmark 17 March 2006

One tree that was.....
One tree there was down by the sea,
In Tuross town one tree there'd be,
Standing tall, standing there, all alone with not one care,
One tree there was until the day, someone thought one tree should pay,
...stripped of bark and all its glory, one tree destined to be just a story,
Someone came deep in the night, determined to rid one tree from site,
The cowardly act despised by all, the Turossian landmark came to fall,
One tree that was I saw today, now just a stump where it did sway,
Although I am not a local, I will remember with regret,
One tree that was......1992

by Sandra Hayman


One Tree ....

You prevail o'er the sea
And the fast-changing land,
From farthest horizon
To gold-ribboned strand.

As cannons of thunder
From ocean's vast flow
Besiege your sheer isthmus
In cauldrons below.

And convulsive rip-channels
On a foam-ridden course,
Strafe your crag in insurgence
With their demonic force.

"Pray, banished recluse
In symmetric relief,
And scabby green buffer
Of the spined scaly leaf;

Do you spread your wide arms
To invoke or conform,
As you pine, a lorn alien,
Unsubdued by the storm?"

Lonely pine on the headland,
Poised, majestically grand,
And more spruce than indigenes
Of your own native land.

May Welch