40 Australian Geographic
I
T’S 3.30PM ON ROTTNEST ISLAND and rush hour is in full
swing. Like a river running downhill, hoards of daytrippers
wheel their bikes towards the last ferry, backpacks slung
over skin smeared with sunscreen, their hair encrusted
with salt and their thongs scuf ng the jetty.
With a loud rev the boat is away, leaving a frothy trail behind
as it starts the 90-minute journey back to Perth via Fremantle.
Calm immediately blankets the island and those left behind
bask in the fading light. People cluster on the sand, clinking
glasses, erupting into laughter; teens play cards on picnic tables
as wallaby-like quokkas snif at their feet; couples gaze over their
books at the metropolis on the horizon; sea lions roll on the sand
and ospreys glide into their giant nests.
With no cars to be heard or seen, the scene is reminiscent of
another era and its charm has stolen West Australian hearts for
generations. Rottnest Island is a place where past and present
overlap, where nature and people coexist. Known to locals as
‘Rotto’, the former labour camp for Aboriginals, boys’ refor-
matory and prisoner-of-war camp is as much a part of WA’s
cultural history as mines, colourful entrepreneurs and untouched
beaches. Its strange name – translated to mean rat’s nest – can
be attributed to 17th-century Dutch explorers, who mistook the
native quokkas for cat-sized rats.
Today, some carefully preserved, treasured buildings, which
date back to the 1840s, are in everyday use, and Rottnest’s
wildlife is so well protected that even wedding bouquets have
to be approved. Such strict measures are in place to prevent pests
being introduced into the precious ecosystem.
“Rottnest is a good blast from the past,” says Peter ‘Pedro’
Minekus, one of the few people permitted to live on the island,
a privilege extended only to certain employees by the Rottnest
Island Authority, a statutory body that manages the island and
