From the Styx

I will let my friend speak for himself despite my general dislike for music made by hippies.



I am the forest activist who was chained to the ground through a car in the Styx Rd.

At 8:30am three police officers arrived in two police cars. I jumped into the car and locked myself into the pipe. Within moments my police liaison team were arrested without warning and put to the back of a paddy wagon by two young police officers. I was left alone with the senior officer who asked if there was anybody in the car. I said yes and asked for him to talk to my liaisons. The same police officer then attempted to smash the windows of the car with his elbow and on failing this smashed through the back driver's side window with a large stone. He opened the drivers side door jumped on top of me stating "I'm sick of you greenie c*nts". He then proceeded to hit my face repeatedly, stuck fingers up my nose, gouged at my right eye, pushed my head into the steering wheel with his knee, twisted my neck and verbally abused me. I was yelling, "This is not right, you are being filmed", to which he replied, "That's why I didn't break the other windows."

Around twenty contractors, obviously aggravated at the valley being blockaded, arrived soon after. The contractors began threatening me, intimidating me, throwing cold water on me and filming me. Had the police officer not been so volatile in his initial contact with me I would have considered unlocking myself at this point but felt safer being attacked by one police officer in side the car than locking off and being left alone with twenty angry contractors. I was inadvertently put in a position where it was both unsafe and unwise to unlock myself from the ground. SES and police rescue were called due to their experience in these situations, however, they could not come until the next day. Instead I had volunteer fire brigade and ambulance officers who were in no way equipped to handle the situation. I was given the option of staying locked on for another night or having some of the boys dig me out. I explained that I would happily wait. They chose to dig me out. The contractors started working towards my release, not with professional tools such as the Jaws of Life, oxy torches and grinders. They used an axe, screwdrivers, a shovel, a car jack and a rock to dig at the concrete. Unprofessional tools wielded by unprofessionals in a situation where my wellbeing was not their priority. The car was jacked up, stretching my arm to expose the concrete. I questioned my safety and in response was hit with the butt of the axe in the arm. This turned into somewhat of a sick game where I talk, I get hit and my 'rescuers' laugh. It was announced by one of the contractors that a reporter for the Mercury had arrived and I thought this would help my situation. However I was told to keep my mouth shut and the car door was closed so as not to see me. The door was opened around fifteen minutes later after she had gone. When the door was opened there were some wives of contractors present getting told, "Take a look at this ugly stinking ippy." A blunt object hit my arm once more and when I screamed and swore in agony I was told "Don’t swear in front of the ladies" and was hit again. The digging and hitting rescue lasted about three hours. I released my clip when it became blatantly obvious that my arm was in danger, once a contractor drove up in his machine to lift the car up. This would have meant my arm would be suspending four bags of concrete. I collected belongings, some of which were soaked by logger’s urine and was driven away uncuffed in the front of a police car with country and western playing through the external speakers of the car.

Throughout my ordeal my civil liberties and basic human rights were stripped of me. The police officer and others abused me both physically and mentally during my 'rescue' for standing up for my beliefs that old growth should not be logged and that Tasmanian forestry practices are poor and unsustainable.