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Lions Outback Vision: Inside the talented team of specialists helping prevent blindness in WA’s outback

A vision, and foresight. About vision. And for sight. Associate professor Angus Turner does not immediately strike you as a pioneer. He is lightly built, quietly spoken, calmly dressed. In a different age he could almost have been a missionary — spreading his message to the far-flung and foreign. In this age, that is exactly what he is doing, with an almost reverent zeal. But it’s not about religion. His own glasses give a hint to what his message is. Because Turner has devoted his career, and increasingly, the core of his being, to a modern mission — saving the sight of the most vulnerable West Australians, who would otherwise go blind. With a talented and devoted team, Turner travels across WA, from rattling along dirt roads and highways, through pindan and farmland, to flying over gorges and desert to deliver essential eye care to some of the under-serviced communities in our State, especially in the remote north. “The population in the remote parts of Western Australia have more blindness and more complications from eye disease,” Turner explains. “Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander populations have more than three times the rates of blindness and 14 times the rates of vision loss from diabetes. “But up to 95 per cent of that vision impairment and blindness among Aboriginal people is preventable, and that blindness can happen overnight. So it is critical that we see and treat patients as early as possible.” It’s a huge problem, and a pressing one, which Turner humbly but voraciously tackles every day. He doesn’t see himself as a talisman, or a pioneer. But following in the red-dirt footsteps of the legendary Fred Hollows, and Professor Ian Constable, that is what others say he is. Hollows was the Kiwi who moved to Australia in the mid-60s, and was stunned that a first world nation left its poorest with third world health treatment — especially eye health. He dedicated the rest of his life to improving that situation, kicking down previously bolted doors to set up a foundation which, to this day, treats impoverished people in more than two dozen countries. In 1976, Professor Ian Constable, an already groundbreaking ophthalmologist himself, became a disciple, volunteering for weeks to supplant his skills to the Kimberley’s most needy patients. “We camped, we ate their damper with them, their kangaroo — and with the headlights of the car looked at everybody’s eyes,” Professor Constable recalls. “That’s what got me into it.” It was a life-changing — and history making — visit. It led to dozens more field trips to the Kimberley, the Ngaanyatjarra Lands, and other communities. So when Constable became the leader of the newly established Lions Eye Institute in 1983 — dedicated to saving the sight of anyone at risk — the links to the north of the State were already deeply embedded. More than 30 years on, the ripples of those pioneering trips to the Kimberley led to the Institute to found a dedicated remote eye health unit. The ophthalmic family tree brought Angus Turner — who Constable had mentored — to the helm of that unit, as the McCusker Director of Lions Outback Vision. “He has made a wonderful difference to how the Aboriginal program is supported,” Constable says. And that difference now includes a big rig, a backpackers’ hostel and a bistro infused with the faraway influence of Jamie Oliver. In the year 2000, as an ambitious and wide-eyed intern, Angus Turner rocked up in Broome without anywhere to stay. Driving out of his placement in Port Hedland for the weekend, he gravitated towards town and found a place which looked affordable, welcoming and interesting. The Kimberley Klub hostel had things nowhere else in town did: plenty of room, somewhere to cook and eat in good company. It even had an outdoor pool. “It was the best backpackers’ experience I had ever had,” he says now. Back then, he could not have begun to imagine that this hostel — once replete with hammocks amid the heat — would become the centre of his life, work and family. And a centre changing lives, through his work, alongside his family. That ophthalmic work is on the cutting edge and the coalface. Daily appointments with patients in their infancy and in their dotage. The majority of them Indigenous, many of them with issues which could leave them blind, or otherwise visually disabled. And some who would have no access to help at all, if not for Turner and his team. After Lions Outback Vision became established, it became patently obvious the vast spaces between the experts and their potential patients would have to be covered, somehow. In 2016, the $5 million Lions Outback Vision Van hit the road — a 20m-long, specially-adapted truck converted to house three separate consulting rooms, fitted with state-of-the art ocular imaging and laser equipment. Tens of thousands of kilometres were covered in that first year and every year since, from Albany and Esperance to Port Hedland and Roebourne, traversing most of the tarmac and termite mounds in between. Countless scans and procedures. Telehealth technologies embraced and encouraged. Eyesight saved and improved. A unique service for a unique environment. Going where others can’t, or don’t, or won’t. On a hot and humid Thursday in early April when STM visits, the van is in Hedland. Before here, it was Paraburdoo, then moving onto Roebourne. The truck sticks out, parked in the grounds of the town’s hospital — its fluoro colour scheme complemented by four chairs outside. Inside, on this trip, the front of house is ruled by Aboriginal eye health co-ordinator Kerry Woods — a powerhouse Indigenous woman, with a tattoo that says fighter on her bicep. In this role though, she is gentle, welcoming, familiar. She calms those who might be wary. Encourages those that might be nervous. And praises those who have conquered a fear. She’s a key link in the cultural chain to get treatment to those in most need. The next link is Dinnu Devarapalli — a young doctor who resisted glasses himself until university, because of vanity and laziness. He brings his training from the University of Western Australia and Université Grenoble Alpes in France, while wiping red dust off the state-of-the-art equipment. And beyond him is Dr Nour Barakat — the Fred Hollows Foundation fellow who can literally stick a needle in your eye, and make you not feel it. She does just that with patients like Yandeyarra man Augustine Allen, whose diabetes at one point brought him to his knees because he couldn’t walk. On this day, he is able to climb up the steps, into the cool. The welcome is warm. And the treatment and technology are world class. A working example of what the Vision Van was powered to do. He is one of dozens the team see in their few days there. Like Cyril Munda, a Kariyarra elder, who has taken his wisdom and his music across the north. But his vision is failing him. Without it, he can’t see to play. Within an hour inside the van, Cyril has been seen — and with easily scheduled cataract surgery — should be able to see again soon. Like Camille Payet and her baby son River, from Port Hedland. Like former BHP worker Jesse Bateman, who is also diabetic and comes to the van every time it is in town. And like Kimmie Jumbo, from Yandeyarra, who had missed two appointments — but was tracked down by Woods and is now here, ahead of cataract surgery that should change his life. “We have a yarn while we are treating — so it might not even feel like you are being treated,” Woods says. “And it is treatment and equipment you would be lucky to get in any city in the world.” But the vision did not end with the van. “The dream was to have a base in the north-west — to show the people in the communities that we were there to stay,” Turner says. “This region was crying out for eye care closer to home, and more accessible for people.” But where? And how? Turner was a nomad himself, a FIFO eye surgeon based in Perth and flying into the region which had captured his heart. And from 2016, with the Vision Van on the road, he was then in a smaller pilot van alongside, with his new partner Ceire. It was hard, but hugely rewarding. The impact the service was having was immediate, and profound. Huge increases in people getting their eyes checked, in some cases for the first time in their lives. A noticeable drop in people needing to be flown off country for emergency treatment or surgery. And amid the daily grind, groundbreaking research being done using the data gathered on those long days on the roads. The work was also being recognised. In October 2019, Turner won the West Australian of the Year award for professions. The following month, perhaps an even bigger reward. The billionaire Wen family — owners of the Hawaiian property empire — had already committed parts of their wealth to helping eye health across Asia. But in their adopted of home of WA, where their properties included the Cable Beach Club resort, they hadn’t had the chance. In Turner, they saw one “Angus is a very special person. We see in Angus his drive, his passion and his heart in eye health … and most important of all, his passion in closing the gap,” Mei Wen says. “We believed in that — and you cannot but help to want to support him to make his dream come true.” Hawaiian’s philanthropic arm, Wen Giving, did just that. And, in a moment of full circle serendipity, they owned another property in Broome that they decided to gift to the Lions Eye Institute as its permanent home — The Kimberley Klub backpackers hostel. The Kimberly Klub was to become a Kimberley hub. To provide eye care that was affordable and welcoming. A clinic with plenty of room, somewhere to cook and eat in good company. And even an outdoor pool. Today, it looks very different to when Turner first stumbled across it all those years ago. Gone are the bunk beds, pool tables and beach volleyball court. Three years on, in their place, is some of the most high-tech eye health equipment in Australia. Consulting rooms. Telehealth facilities beaming world-class care across the state. A cut-price, walk-in optician. A community garden, blooming with herbs and vegetables. And a cafe — designed to be a meeting place and education space. Teaching how good food can prevent bad health, including diabetes, which is one of the biggest causes of eye problems in the world. The refurbishment, undertaken by local firm Indent backed by the Stokes family, has made Turner’s dream a reality. And inside, that reality feels like a family home. While Turner treats patients, his now wife Ceire — a chef who trained in Jamie Oliver restaurants, and has met the man himself — cooks and serves her food in the cafe across the hall. Their three children are regular visitors to the hub. On the other side of the centre, ophthalmologists Vaibhav and Yachana Shah work in adjacent consulting rooms. Trained in India, the couple could well be back there, if not for a call from Turner which changed their lives. They had both juggled medical careers, a relationship and a son — until the chance to work and live in Broome together, gave them a base. “It is somewhere we want to be, and somewhere that needs us here,” Yachana says. “On my very first day, I was flying to Derby and working and driving in the Vision Van – it changes your perspective on what work can be, and your work can mean.” And the bond between their new base in Broome, and all the communities beyond, feels close despite the tyranny of distance. That distance is traversed not only by the Vision Van but also by a tiny little plane, which flies across the top of end of the state almost weekly, delivering Turner and other members of his team to perform sight-saving surgery. And it wouldn’t be Broome without a backstory that sits a little bit of left of centre. The pilot who flies these world class medical professionals is world class himself — on the double bass. Shannon Birchall is best known for his work with the John Butler Trio but after retreating off stage in recent years, Shannon was keen to use his other skill as a pilot for a worthy cause. Crossing paths with Angus gave him that chance. “Everything that has happened in my life has been right place, right time — and this was the same. Broome is a great place to fly and to learn. But there are not many chances,” he says. “Now I get the chance to play a part.” Amid so many moving parts, across such a vast distance, Turner remains the calm at the eye of the storm. With one eye on the future. The shiny new coffee machine in his wife’s cafe was barely unpacked, but the associate professor was already planning ahead. Millions of dollars in grants are being applied for, to expand already groundbreaking eye health research. Artificial intelligence is already being used to potentially help diagnose eye disease, with Google as a research partner. But it is over his Broome back fence where Turner has his vision firmly fixed. He wants to build a hospital next door. “Now that we have a home at the Kimberley Hub, we’re able to start thinking about preventing eye disease,” he says. “But the last bottleneck is surgery, and at the hospital at the moment it takes up to a year to wait for our surgical treatment to be provided. “We would love to see a day surgery built next door — and we’re working with the Yawuru people to provide a service that can ensure eye surgery within weeks, not years.”

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Lions Outback Vision: Inside the talented team of specialists helping prevent blindness in WA’s outback

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Lions Outback Vision: Inside the talented team of specialists helping prevent blindness in WA’s outback