4 hours ago
5
For our long-service leave, my husband and I decided to travel around Tasmania with our camper trailer. We were coming all the way from Albany in Western Australia and drove across the Nullarbor to get there – not exactly a “lap of the map”, but still a big trip. We’d packed our bikes, surfboards and our kelpie, Anzac.
It was all going beautifully until we got to St Helens in Tasmania. We were looking forward to hitting the bike trails and the beach. But what was meant to be a fun day of mountain biking quickly turned into a stressful, late-night rescue when my husband broke his leg on the trail.
Thanks to the incredible local emergency services, he was located, rescued and airlifted to hospital. As I watched him being flown off the mountain by helicopter, relief flooded through me – and then reality hit. I was now solely responsible for the dog, the vehicle and the camper trailer still set up back at the caravan park. Packing up the trailer was a two-person job. Hobart was four hours’ drive from here. My family and friends were 4,000km away in Western Australia. And Anzac needed a walk!
The next day, new neighbours arrived at the campsite. Exhausted and worried, I managed a small smile as a man named Sam said hello and began setting up with his partner. I wondered what they thought – a solo woman with a dog, no partner in sight, and a camper full of gear.
Eventually, Sam’s curiosity got the better of him. He asked a few gentle questions and, after two days of silent stress, the whole story poured out.
Sam listened patiently, kindly. He nodded, said little, and returned to his own camp. That evening, he and his wife, Hillary, did something extraordinary. With no fuss and no hesitation, they told me they’d pack everything up for me. “Tasmania has given us a warm hug,” they said. “Now we want to pass that hug on.”
They invited me to join them for dinner and a seat at their campfire, sharing their food, their warmth and their company. I hadn’t realised how much I needed that simple kindness. It felt like the first deep breath I’d taken in days.
The next morning, true to their word, they arrived ready to help. And what followed was no small task. My husband, still in a hospital bed, talked us through the process over the phone. It was fiddly, complex and physically demanding. Piece by piece, with calm and methodical care, Sam worked it all out, while Hillary offered encouragement, guidance and good humour. It would have taken me days on my own and, even then, I’m not sure I could have done it.
But their kindness didn’t stop there. It would take weeks of recovery before my husband’s leg was stabilised enough for us to begin the drive home, with him in the passenger seat the whole way. Sam and Hillary helped me find an Airbnb close to the hospital in Hobart to stay in and made sure I had everything I needed to get through the next part of the journey. They checked in with us along the whole drive home to make sure we got back to WA safely.
I will never forget that holiday. Not just because of the accident, or the brilliance of the emergency services, but because of Sam and Hillary. When you’re thousands of kilometres away from family and friends, you realise that all that matters in the end is our relationships with others. Sam and Hillary stepped in when there was no one else around to offer support, steadiness and invaluable practical help. They gave me a warm Tasmanian hug – just when I needed it most.
