When you think of water parks, Tasmania is hardly the first destination that springs to mind. The island is located at a latitude where the Southern Ocean is present for the majority of the year, with cloudy sky, wind coming from Bass Strait, and temperatures that drop precipitously after the sun sets. Instead of waterslides and splash pads, it’s the kind of area where people think of MONA, whisky distilleries, and wilderness hiking. This is precisely why it’s important to pay attention to the construction of the island’s first major water park facility.
There is a clear traditional case against a water park in Tasmania. You require warmth. You require consistent sunshine. You need a summer that encourages people to spend six hours in the rain without feeling bad about it. Tasmania’s summer, which lasts from around November to April, is mild by Australian standards and has a limited window of opportunity for outdoor aquatic attractions. The question isn’t actually whether Tasmania can support a water park, as the island’s developers and facility operators have discovered. It concerns whether a water park created for Tasmania’s unique circumstances can function differently than one created for Queensland.
It turns out that moving underground is the solution. The south of the island’s Hastings Caves and Thermal Springs generate naturally occurring geothermal water with a base temperature of about 28 degrees Celsius, which is warm enough to be a practical heating resource without requiring a lot of energy to raise it to a pleasant swimming temperature. That’s a significant beginning, but it’s not the entire answer. Heat exchangers may adjust water temperatures for a fraction of the cost of a coal-dependent grid when used in conjunction with Tasmania’s hydroelectric energy grid, which is among the cleanest and most dependable in the nation.
The other half of the jigsaw is the interior enclosure concept. The Doone Kennedy Hobart Aquatic Centre, for example, was constructed with multi-zone interior chambers that shield swimmers from wind and rain while maintaining constant air and water temperatures throughout the year. Compared to an outdoor splash park in Brisbane, it has a very different design philosophy, and the reason it succeeds is that it doesn’t pretend Tasmania is somewhere it isn’t. The building extends toward views of the water when the topography permits, and the enclosures are big enough to seem roomy rather than cramped. Natural light enters through roof parts.
Smaller outdoor facilities, such as the Huonville Swimming Pool, are seasonal, opening in November and closing in April. This makes sense because wintertime visitor numbers do not support an outside site’s year-round operation. For a larger, climate-controlled attraction with indoor slides, swimming pools, and spa services, however, the computation changes significantly. That type of location attracts tourists who wouldn’t otherwise come because it’s scorching outside. Regardless of what the sky is doing, they are coming because the facility itself is the attraction.
This is a parallel that is worth illustrating. No one travels to Iceland for its beach weather, but it does have some of the world’s most well-known thermal bathing sites. Unlike the tropical water park paradigm, there is a certain allure to being warm in a cold environment. Although Tasmania is not Iceland, there is a transferable aspect to that way of thinking. A water park that embraces its surroundings—geothermal energy, renewable hydroelectric power, enclosed design that frames the external landscape—may draw guests who might pass by a typical outdoor splash park without pausing.
It is still really unclear whether the strategy will be financially viable at scale over an extended period of time. There are just over 500,000 people living in Tasmania, and although the number of tourists is increasing, it is still not high enough to warrant a significant capital expenditure based only on domestic demand. Targeting the global eco-tourism sector makes sense, but it’s price-sensitive and competitive. The engineering and environmental case for a year-round water park in Tasmania appears to be stronger than most people realized, and preliminary findings from current aquatic facilities indicate there is a genuine desire for it.
