FUN WITH ’SUPIALS AND SCIENCE
A traditional Brisbane attraction slots in well with an extravaganza of science, writes Eli Orzessek.
As a clingy koala is delivered into my eagerly waiting arms, I have a flashback to an iconic, yet disgusting moment from the first season of the Bachelor NZ. Matilda Rice, still fighting for Art Green’s heart, was wearing a crop top when one of these cute critters suddenly let loose a lump of freshly processed eucalyptus — right into her belly button.
I mention this moment to the staff at Lone Pine Koala Sanctuary while I’m holding my new friend Cinnamon and feel thankful my own sartorial choices didn’t leave my navel exposed to the elements.
The koala wrangler tells me an event like this is actually fairly common — koalas can poo up to 300 times a day and I can see plenty of evidence of this on the ground below. But as the surprisingly dense little critter clings to me and I nuzzle into her soft fur, I feel like I wouldn’t even care if she stained my best shirt.
Koalas are the centrepiece at Lone Pine, which started with a couple named Jack and Jill, way back in 1927. Around the corner, a bunch of their possible descendants are chilling in various states of sleepiness, except for one absolute stereotype who’s cramming fistful after fistful of eucalyptus leaves into his mouth.
Another highlight at the park is the free Flight Raptor show, where handlers show off some of the most impressively lethal birds of prey that reside at Lone Pine. It’s a great opportunity to get up close and personal with these impressive beasts — a wedge-tail eagle has some particularly sharp-looking talons and a barn owl flies so close that its wing smacks my cheek. When asked for volunteers, I and many others put our hands up high, but unsurprisingly a small, cute child is chosen to wear a leather glove and be landed on.
Although Lone Pine is about a 20-minute drive from the central city, there’s a much more scenic way to get there and back. Mirimar Cruises have been ferrying up and down the river between Brisbane’s South Bank and the sanctuary for about 70 years.
After three hours of koala holding, platypus spotting, roo feeding and Tasmanian Devil photographing, I’m feeling pretty pooped, despite avoiding being pooped on, so I head down to the river bank where my trusty vessel is waiting to return me to the city. Sipping on a Solo on the top deck and listening to a selection of cheesy Aussie tunes from back in the day, I’m starting to feel like a stereotype myself, clutching my folder of freshly printed koala photos. Skipper Rob Treasure calls for volunteers to drive the boat and after a steady stream of nanas and grandkids take their turns, I’m ready to don the captain’s hat and take the wheel.
It turns out to be quite relaxing, steering down the twists and turns past luxury riverside houses, so I do so for about 10 minutes while talking to Treasure about his 30 years on board.
We arrive back right in the middle of the Cultural Precinct — an area of the South Bank that includes the Museum of Queensland, Queensland Art Gallery/Gallery of Modern Art, the State Library of Queensland and the Queensland Performing Arts Centre.
It can’t be often that there’s a two-hour line for
a museum exhibit, but when I arrive, there’s an epic queue snaking its way out of the Museum of Queensland and on to the street.
What’s the attraction? Baby loggerhead turtles, hatching live, right in front of your eyes. It’s a major highlight of the World Science Festival, celebrating its second year at the museum. The hatching turtles first appeared last year and word of mouth has spread since then, making them the star of the show this time around.
I’m given a backstage pass to see the hatchlings make their appearance, while dozens and dozens of wide-eyed children finally make their way in to gawk at the new turtles as they glide through the water in big tanks.
Those still in the process of hatching are kept in clear incubators, which elicit the classic noises of cuteness from the crowds — what some call “squeeing”. One has just cracked through when I arrive and sits with its head and flippers sticking out of the shell, perfectly posing for that Instagram money shot and probably wondering what all the fuss is about.
All the fuss is for a good reason — it’s impossible to see turtles hatch in the wild, as this occurs under the sand in egg chambers dug and covered by the females. For the festival, 70 eggs were collected from Mon Repos beach, as part of the Queensland Turtle Conservation Project — and as a bonus, the perfectly timed hatching is presented to the general public.
Acting as a surrogate mum to these precious babies is curator Patrick Couper, a Kiwi who moved to Queensland more than 30 years ago. He has a real passion for turtles, talking a mile a minute about their breeding habits and the impressive distances they travel.
A co-worker had the somewhat ambitious idea of a turtle hatching exhibit more than 20 years ago, but it was shelved. However, when Couper mentioned it to World Science Festival organisers, the idea was enthusiastically welcomed.
Hosting the festival was a big win for the city and the large crowds are testament to its success. Outside the museum, there’s more of a fun fair vibe going on at Street Science, where kids and adults alike can try out a range of hands-on experiments.
It’s here that I meet Dr Matt Dunbabin, who has invented a robot with a very specific task: to inject the Crown of Thorns starfish, a species that’s currently gobbling up the Great Barrier Reef.
His robot, the COTSbot, looks like a piece of diving equipment hovering above a paddling pool that contains pictures of the greedy starfish in question, as well as a few Spongebob characters. Over a few years, Dr Dunbabin has taught it to recognise its target with an impressive 99 per cent accuracy. To test its smarts, kids move a picture into the robot’s view and press a button — when Patrick Star is in its sight, it remains stationary, but if the correct starfish makes an appearance, a barb shoots out and injects it.
But if you’re thinking the World Science Festival is just kid’s stuff, you’d be mistaken. Later in the evening, I attend a talk and wine tasting hosted by sound artist and former Viva wine columnist Jo Burzynska, along with neurologist Professor Pankaj Sah, looking at how music can affect the taste of wine. Initially a little sceptical, my mind was quickly blown by the concept. Who’d have thought a sav could be so fruity and aromatic while listening to a little Nouvelle Vague, yet so harsh and acidic when listening to the abrasive tones of AFFCO by the Skeptics? .
Milling around outside, I hear an Aussie, obviously mind-blown by everything around him, marvel, “Wow, science really does matter!” “No it doesn’t,” replies his girlfriend sharply. We’ll leave that one up to the experts. I decide to make my own decision by doing some oral/ aural experiments at the nearby Stokehouse, overlooking the river with an excellent wine list.