Looking for sturdy ready-made structure to call home? Even without the rails, this rainforest train carriage has the ability to move people.
As we sit under the shade of the rainforest canopy, listening to bellbird calls, there sits a 1979 Melbourne commuter-train carriage, anachronous yet strangely apt in this environment. Nature has wrapped its tendrils around the 24 metre hulk of steel, gradually claiming it for its own.
Having lived in Darwin for many years, Jeanette Hergenhan purchased property in the Sunshine Coast hinterland after being drawn to the location’s natural assets. From the house where she was living, Hergenhan would admire the land on the adjacent hill, with its river frontage and rainforest.
When the 30-acre block became available, she jumped at the chance to buy it. From the moment she walked through the gates, Hergenhan knew the place was right for her. “I can’t explain it,” she says. “It just feels like I’ve come home.”
Having bought the land, she needed a dwelling. Hergenhan planned to buy a caravan, but found that second-hand ones were over-priced and under delivered on quality. She was getting desperate when she found the advertisement for a train carriage. “I’d sold my property and I really needed somewhere to live. I looked at containers, I looked at caravans,” she says. “I looked in the Trading Post and this was on the opposite page.” For the 12 years since, Hergenhan has made a home in the former inner-city commuter carriage.
The 1979 Melbourne train carriage that Jeanette Hergenhan turned into a rainforest retreat. Photo: Marc Tewksbury
Getting 21 tonnes of stainless steel from Melbourne onto a bush block took three days, a specialised road vehicle, and two mobile cranes. The cranes “walked” it onto the property, where it was positioned on legs supported by four stainless steel plates.
Hergenhan then removed the 96 seats by hand, a mammoth task which involved unscrewing individual seats after removing the aged cushions. “They would have been quite lovely to start [with],” Hergenhan says of the cushions, “but they were this grungy grey black. By the time you’d had your face up against them you were just black.”
![Jeanette's daughter has since moved onto the property with her.](http://web.archive.org./web/20170118193815im_/http://www.smh.com.au/content/dam/images/g/t/q/x/c/r/image.imgtype.articleLeadwide.620x349.png/1484276017611.png)
![Train carriage on Sunshine Coast property](http://web.archive.org./web/20170118193815im_/http://www.smh.com.au/content/dam/images/g/t/q/x/g/q/image.imgtype.articleLeadwide.620x349.png/1484276201325.png)
She lived there for six months without power and water, before a flea plague and the lack of amenities became too much. “I decided I’m too old to be a hippie,” she says. The stress saw her scurrying back to Darwin for 2½ years, afraid to return to the property. “I just did not want to come back, I was scared of coming back,” she says. “So I really had to come back here and get over it.”
Before returning, Hergenhan had power connected to the train. Her next project was constructing a massive deck beside the carriage to simulate a railway platform. A realist by nature, Hergenhan wanted to maintain the original look of the train. “If it’s a train it has to look like a train,” she says, “and it’s got a 60-metre square platform at the side.”
The deck became her lifeline. More than doubling her living space, it nestles under the rainforest canopy, which is home to a variety of wildlife, including the endangered Richmond Birdwing Butterfly. “You can sit out here at night and see a million stars,” she says. “You get fireflies, you get butterflies, you’ve got platypus. You’re a kilometre from the middle of town and no-one knows you’re here. It’s just beautiful.”
![Rainforest refuge: meet the woman who lives in a 1979 train carriage](http://web.archive.org./web/20170118193815im_/http://www.smh.com.au/content/dam/images/g/t/q/x/q/e/image.imgtype.articleLeadwide.620x349.png/1484276487801.png)
The rainforest drops to the river meandering below. “You can go down there and float your wine glasses and sit in the middle of the rainforest,” she says. The water temperature, however, precludes making a habit of swimming. “That water is freezing,” she says. “It never sees the sun, so you have to be really brave to go down there.” Instead, Hergenhan enjoys a glass of red on the deck, or the smaller platform she built halfway down the sloping river bank.
Hergenhan, now 65, gradually made the carriage her own while maintaining its authenticity. The sliding doors and hand-holds are intact. Her bedroom is at one end, the bed replete with mosquito net to keep the bugs out while she sleeps. There are no flyscreens or climate control devices here. Next is the bathroom, with a shower over a claw-foot bath, followed by the kitchen and then a large living area. Inside is surprisingly spacious, especially for one person.
Being on her own is no problem for Hergenhan, who relishes the solitude. “I just love it because it’s private and it’s just nice to have peace and quiet. I probably spend too much time down here by myself but it doesn’t seem to bother me.”
![1979 train carriage](http://web.archive.org./web/20170118193815im_/http://www.smh.com.au/content/dam/images/g/t/q/y/3/k/image.imgtype.articleLeadwide.620x349.png/1484276884605.png)
![Rainforest refuge: meet the woman who lives in a 1979 train carriage](http://web.archive.org./web/20170118193815im_/http://www.smh.com.au/content/dam/images/g/t/q/y/9/m/image.imgtype.articleLeadwide.620x349.png/1484276961437.png)
Hergenhan isn’t completely alone, however, with the variety of resident and visiting birds, including rosellas, ducks, catbirds, fantails, and magpie geese. She even has a water dragon that climbs into her lap. “I started feeding him cherries, which are his weakness,” she says. “I couldn’t touch him, but he’d come and sit on my lap.” Hergenhan also has three horses, chooks and a cat. Recently, her daughter Bianca and Harvey, Bianca’s partner, have joined Hergenhan on the property, with their two dogs.
The downside to being so close to nature is the bugs, especially the ticks, which have been particularly prolific this year. “I’ve never seen them this bad in all the years I’ve been living here,” Hergenhan says. Ticks almost killed her stallion, and contributed to the death of her beloved old dog. They can also wreak havoc with human health. Removing ticks is a regular routine for Hergenhan and the family.
Despite its drawbacks, Hergenhan relishes her rustic lifestyle, and plans to live out her days here. “It’s just in the soul,” she says. “I couldn’t think of a better place to live.”