Croc hunter cut down in prime ( "The Australian" )

IT'S an overused phrase that fails to compensate for the loss of life, but it is true that Steve Irwin died doing what he loved. No one could predict being speared through the heart by a stingray while filming a wildlife documentary on the Great Barrier Reef, but after a lifetime spent wrestling crocodiles and venomous snakes it is more of a shock than a surprise. At age 44, Irwin had managed to pack more into his life than his relative youth would suggest possible. And in his passing, Australia has lost one of its most internationally recognised celebrities and greatest forces for environmental protection. Irwin's story is that of a young boy who took his father's interest in crocodiles, built on it and captivated the world. The boom in cable television in the US allowed him to expand well beyond the confines of his Australia Zoo operation on Queensland's Sunshine Coast. Irwin's infectious enthusiasm conquered American audiences to an extent that most Australians find difficult to appreciate.

Irwin was the first to admit the discomfort his international celebrity had caused. In a television interview on the ABC's Australian Story in 2003, Irwin said that while the world saw him as a very popular wildlife warrior back home, some people found him a little bit embarrassing. He speculated that he reflected back to people a bit of themselves that they did not wish to have exposed. He lamented the loss of what he called Australia's fair dinkum honesty and cultural reference points such as kangaroos, Land Cruisers, winged keels and bloody flies. Australians were now more interested in money, he felt. Despite his popularity, critics resented the image of Australia presented by Irwin to the world. It undermined the more sophisticated image they held of their country and wished the world to share. However, Irwin's success delivered more money than most could ever imagine. Irwin says he drew a wage from Australia Zoo but most of the income generated by the wildlife documentaries and merchandising was dedicated to preserving wildlife habitat and conservation projects. Irwin remained deeply involved in scientific research and conservation management. He had just completed a five-week crocodile research trip on Cape York Peninsula with Queensland Parks and Wildlife Service officers. He was a fierce critic of the commercial exploitation of wild animals and his arguments were central to a recent federal government decision to maintain the ban on commercial crocodile hunting.

Irwin was convinced he could not have lived any other life. He said wildlife was like a magnet that would have pulled him back, no matter what. He simply could not have been anything else. And to escape the pressures of celebrity, he surfed, drawn by the solitude, away from the paparazzi and fans. The tributes pouring in for Irwin speak volumes about the impact he had. John Howard said he was a one-off who brought joy, entertainment and excitement to millions. Queensland Premier Peter Beattie said Irwin had made an enormous difference to his state and his country.

Whatever one thinks of Irwin's larger-than-life persona, he undoubtedly was a man who seized life with both hands and applied hard work and focus to achieve great ends, which he then applied to the service of wildlife and humanity. He was a proud family man and role model. The Australian mourns his passing and extends its deepest sympathies to Irwin's widow, Terri, daughter Bindi and son Bob.