Young people aged 12–24 make up a quarter of Tasmania’s growing homeless population. Chloe Hume and Trent Kiely are two of them.
The banks of the Tamar River, flowing through Launceston in Tasmania, are lush and green.
On one side sits Trevallyn, a hilltop suburb with some of Launceston’s most beautiful views and houses dating back to the late 1800s.
On the opposite side, a cluster of homeless people sleeping in cars and caravans have taken over a stretch of land near a $25-million redevelopment, the Silo Hotel.
One of the caravans has been home to 20-year-old Chloe, 23-year-old Trent, their cat Dexter and dog Rocky since May last year.
It might seem like a rough way to live, but for Chloe and Trent, it’s the most stability they’ve had in a long time.
“It’s our healing chapter,” Chloe says.
“Our whole lives, both of us have been through hell and back pretty much, both in our own ways,” she says.
“And now it’s just really recovering so we can have a good rest of our life and just be happy. We’re going to take it easy and get our mental health better.
Last year, Chloe and Trent became homeless when their rental was sold. The couple found themselves priced out of the rental market with nowhere else to go.
Trent is recovering from a motorbike accident, still needing surgery to walk properly.
Chloe, who grew up in and out of foster care, had become homeless when she ran away from a group home as a teenager.
“If no one wants you, you just get put into a home with lots of other kids that no one wants.
“I really hated it.”
Finding the caravan meant Chloe and Trent could finally have their own space after being rejected for multiple rental units, a chance to get back on their feet.
They pay $200 a week in rent to the caravan’s owner, and spend $12 a day on petrol for a generator and $20 a fortnight on diesel for heating.
The only support they can lean on is Trent’s family, where help is exchanged back and forward between parents, children and siblings.
“It helps out very well. We do it for the whole family,” Trent says.
For Chloe, living in the caravan has been a positive change from her past.
“I like my life now,” she says.
“[Trent] is the only person I’ve ever felt comfortable around. I’ve never really felt like I could be myself with anyone.”
The biggest worry now is whether the Tamar River will one day flood their sanctuary.
“The most unstable part of living here. Isn’t that funny,” Chloe says.
That anxiety was at its peak during the cold and rainy Tasmanian winter.
“Every time it was pouring down, cloudy, it was like, ‘it’s getting higher, I don’t want it’. Oh, my heart was sinking a lot,” Chloe says.
Because Chloe and Trent have had no luck with rental applications, they decided to focus on making the caravan as much of a home as possible.
At first, they had no way to store food and had to carry water to the caravan in buckets.
“We’d eat noodles every night, and packet pasta and stuff. Lost all our weight,” Chloe says.
With a fridge and a garden hose extension to get water straight to the caravan, life is much more comfortable.
There’s one addition that they are especially happy to have: a washing machine.
Before having their own washing machine, the pair had to haul their clothes to the laundromat in taxis, and sometimes the cab would drive off on them.
“I felt unhygienic as a chick being here,” Chloe says.
Chloe feels there is a stigma attached to homelessness and people assume most homeless people must have substance abuse issues.
“We don’t necessarily want to live in a caravan or next to a river, but this is what we have.
“It sucks because people probably think we’re just, like everyone else, junkies or something, you know?
“It makes it hard, because people don’t want to reach out. They’re probably too scared.
“It’s not even that bad down here. People actually have to give us a chance.”
Credits
Words: Nelli Saarinen and Abigail Varney
Production: Nelli Saarinen
Photographer: Abigail Varney
The Great Crumbling Australian Dream
This photo essay is part of a larger photojournalism project examining Australia’s housing crisis.
The Great Crumbling Australian Dream is a collaboration between Oculi photographers and ABC News, with support from National Shelter.
The series was made possible with a Meta Australian News Fund grant and the Walkley Foundation.
Oculi is a collective of Australian photographers that offers a visual narrative of contemporary life in Australia and beyond.
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