Miranda Gibson was an unlikely candidate to break Australia's
longest running tree sit record. She'd never seen a forest until
her early twenties.
Growing up in Ipswich, the shy Queenslander admits she was a
"wussy kid" afraid of climbing her backyard treehouse.
In 2011, she overcame those fears and endured 449 days in the
Tasmanian treetops of the Tyenna Forest.
Using a solar-powered computer, she connected with people around
the world, and her activism brought attention to deforestation in
Tasmania, culminating in a world heritage listing.
Putting 'bodies on the
line'
Ms Gibson began to take an interest in conservation as a
teenager, but it wasn't until she was at university that she
discovered forest activism.
"People can go in there, put their bodies on the line and the
logging literally stops," Ms Gibson said.
Her interest in conservation compelled her to fly to Tasmania
during her university holidays.
"The first thing I saw was the biggest tree I'd seen, and it was
cut down — it was a stump. That really hit home to me what was at
stake," she said.
Over the following years, Ms Gibson returned to the Upper
Florentine Valley blockade to protest logging. Eventually, she
decided to move to Tasmania to protest full time.
Ms Gibson lived at the blockade for four years. But by the time
she reached the end of her twenties she was disillusioned.
"What I saw was massive amounts of forest fall. It felt like we
couldn't stop it, no matter what we did," she said.
"It was a devastating process. I was at a point where I was
ready to quit. What I thought we needed was international pressure
to put the nomination in and get the world heritage listing."
Living outdoors in wind, rain and snow
The idea behind Ms Gibson's tree sit marathon dawned on her
after she discovered there was an internet connection in the forest
scheduled for logging.
It would allow her to livestream logging to the world.
"I thought if other people see it, they'll know what's at stake
— they'll know it's real," she said.
On December 14, 2011, she climbed up a tree onto a makeshift
platform 60 metres in the air.
Ms Gibson made a promise that she would not get down until the
Tyenna Forest —and surrounding areas — were protected.
The media coverage was effective, and within days the loggers
moved away from the eye of Ms Gibson's camera
People became fascinated by her story, including the logistics
of her action.
"The longer I was up there, the more interest it got. People
were like, 'she's really committed, or what's going on?'" Ms Gibson
said.
The wooden platform wrapped around the tree, but was only a few
metres long and 1.5 metres wide.
Keeping dry proved a challenge — with a see-through tarp her
only protection from rail, hail, wind, and snow.
Most of the food she ate was raw, and a small walking machine
kept her active.
Then, there was the question of her bathroom facilities.
"I just went to the toilet in a bucket. Nothing fancy. Then I
just had some lovely, supportive ground crew who were responsible
for emptying the bucket and sending it back up," she laughs.
The ground crew were critical to Ms Gibson's survival and would
hike two hours over difficult terrain to bring stocks of food and
water.
'I started to feel a bit forgotten'
The experience was lifechanging, but the good times were always
evened out by the challenges of isolation, boredom, and the extreme
conditions. For Ms Gibson, it was a constant struggle.
"I would often feel this complete sense of frustration," she
said.
"I would just want to walk somewhere — or I'd just like to see
something a tiny bit different, even for half an hour, just a
different view."
At the one-year anniversary event she was flooded with
attention.
It was at this point she realised her grand public action was
defining her.
"All these people who were like 'I love you Miranda', but I was
there all alone," she said.
"[It was] this weird contrast between all these people knowing
me, but also only knowing one part of me.
"I just felt disconnected from my life outside this tree, and
the people. I started to feel a bit forgotten.
"Eventually what I had to do was say, 'my life out there
doesn't really matter right now, and just forget about it and be
really present in the tree.'"
"You've just got to keep fighting"
Ms Gibson's commitment paid off.
In February 2013, the Australian environment minister announced
a world heritage listing nomination for an extra 170,000 hectares
of Tasmanian forest.
It was a big win for Ms Gibson's cause, as well as various other
Tasmanian environmental groups that had fought for decades in
forest wars.
Ms Gibson wanted continue the tree sit until the area was
officially listed.
But one month after the announcement, a fire was lit near the
tree.
"I had to stay awake so I could keep an eye on it. I could see
all the trees falling into it, it was that close," she said.
While she clung on to hope it would pass, the hot and dry
weather made it too dangerous to stay.
"I wasn't ready to say goodbye to the tree. I felt I was
breaking that promise by getting down," she said.
A few months later, the World Heritage Committee livestreamed
their decision.
"It was an absolute relief when the little hammer goes down.
That's done; 170,000 hectares — including my tree — world heritage.
Never been logged and hopefully never will be," she said.
Ms Gibson is satisfied her personal sacrifices were worth
it.
But it wasn't the end of the fight.
In 2014, the Federal Government attempted to have 74,000
hectares of the forest delisted. Ultimately, the government's bid
failed.
However the moment was symbolic for Ms Gibson, who believes
logging in Tasmania will always be contentious.
"You've just got to keep fighting, there's still a lot of
forests that need protecting."