They’re pickin’ up good vibrations. Human blood gives them excitations. Please put the salt away as we welcome The Leech Boys.
With gigantic jaws and farcically-large pharynxes, this trio of parasitic invertebrates guide visitors towards the Rainforest Centre at Dorrigo National Park. And despite their reputation, they certainly don’t suck!
Cheeky and handsome with a slight bad boy edge, The Leech Boys were built to show a gentler side of these misunderstood annelids.
“Local rangers had the idea to build the giant sculptures after constantly being approached by visitors worried about leeches in the rainforest,” a NSW National Parks and Wildlife Service spokesperson told a bewildered, yet beguiled, reporter from Yahoo News Australia. “We’re looking to normalise these small rainforest inhabitants, and dampen some peoples’ fear of them.”
There was widespread revulsion when the bloodsucking freaks were installed in December 2022. But visitors have slowly, but surely, come to love them. Not only do these quirky chaps offer a great photo op, they also double as seats. Not particularly comfortable seats, but seats nonetheless.
“The sculptures are a fun way to acknowledge that leeches are there and part of the damp rainforest environment and not something we necessarily have to be afraid of,” the spokesperson gasbagged.
Give these fun-lovin’ party boys a chance, and they just might worm their way into your heart (don’t worry, not literally – that would be absolutely horrific).
All together now: “I wish they all could be Dorrigo leeches!”
Let’s go to Dorrigo now, see The Leech Boys and say ‘wow’
Come on a safari with me (and Bigella and Peter Poppins)
Tear yourself away from The Big Leeches, and Dorrigo National Park offers a treasure trove of sylvan decadence. The Skywalk, that stunning feat of modern engineering, whisks visitors away on a journey high above the canopy.
Once you have your breath back, lace up your hiking boots for a march into the park’s verdant underbelly. Walking tracks wind their way beneath waterfalls to the sing-song cadence of bowerbirds and woompoo fruit doves.
But, sadly, there aren’t any Big Things down there in the scrub. So I would’ve rather been at the nearby Big Golden Dog, Big Banana or Cunningham’s Bananas. Especially when the downpour began.
Little Peter Poppins, however, didn’t seem to mind.
Round, round, kinda round
The Leeches are round, yeah
Long and round, round, round
The Leeches are round
Gesturing enigmatically at the braying woodland around him, Peter braced himself against the cloudburst and began his eulogy.
“The National Park reserves its greatest splendour for those saccharine morns when the heavens open and the cascades broil through the undergrowth,” the diminutive savant pontificated as a small group gathered around him.
“When the mist retreats, sunlight dances upon every leaf. The universe is reborn. And The Leech Boys – those unheralded monarchs of the forest’s nether world – rear up to greet one so brave to wander into the green inferno.”
“That’s really quite poetic, Peter” Bigella gasped, whisking him away to change his dirty nappy.
“So what you’re saying,” I giggled, pausing for dramatic effect, “is that these leeches – despite your preconceived notions – don’t suck!”
“You’ve already used that joke, Bigs,” Bigella harumphed.
“Oh well,” I tittered. “I guess you can’t leech an old dog new tricks!”
