Ida Stein* loved simplicity. Not in a martyr type of way devoid of possessions and comfort, rather, simplicity where worry was shed, and family and friends made time.

Ida and her husband worked hard. They provided for their children and enjoyed the small luxuries of life that added to family time.

Like many locals "a tent and a tinny" was all they needed to explore Tasmania during summer's holiday months.

The tinny was not like those boats commonly spotted on boat ramps these days, all new and shiny and expensive with alloy wheels on boat trailers waiting their turn like "a flotilla conga line", as Ida described. It was just an aluminium tinny.

It was just a tinny that putted the shores in pursuit of the plentiful flathead that schooled the coast. And when the flathead "were on" all you needed was fishing line, a hook, a ball of lead heavy enough to hit the sandy bottom, and the leftover stub from plastic bags at the supermarket for bait.

Tinny was not the most comfortable watercraft with basic seating, a thirsty two-stroke motor, and the family, the human ballast, evenly spread to keep the nose down as they skipped across the waves to their favourite spot "someone near Schouten Island", with the precise location still a secret, "not for publishing".

Years later the tinny was upgraded to a luxurious 1976 half-cab. "It was a sad yet happy day", Ida recalled.

Tinny had served the family well on the water, but also as a cargo hold with all manner of adventure and play equipment thrown into her hull; far more than was required yet everything that was necessary.

The luxurious 1976 half-cab still floats Ida and her family to this day. Meticulously protected from the elements and regularly serviced, the vintage model may not look as flamboyant as the pleasure crafts that glide off "on point" trailer and SUV setups, but "we'd catch just as many flathead all the same", Ida offered.

The 1976 half-cab also provided opportunity for more adventurous pursuits including water skiing trips, which defined summers at the beach. For 20 years Ida's family along with close friends headed to the seaside town of Swansea on Tasmania's East Coast. The caravan parks at either end of the town would welcome them with open arms.

"It was like returning home," Ida remembered.

Once one caravan park became too full, they would alternate; it wasn't a problem.

"Can you believe it, one of the parks had a spa and we had to book in advance to guarantee access," Ida said with a chortle.

Ida's family called a cabin-style canvas tent home for the summer. In calm and sunny weather, the tent was a temple with ample room and pyramid like stability.

But when the wind inevitably blew, each afternoon, their summer home had to be stretched taut yet loose enough to shift with the wind.

Many an afternoon was spent wrestling canvas and poles and guy ropes or listening to recounts of neighbours wrestling the tent because Ida and her family were on their way back with the tinny.

Fortunately, a traditional general store, Morris' General Store, in the centre of town that sold "everything from a can of baked beans to tent pegs", and the charity shop Vinnies provided security should anything be forgotten or broken.

There were also coffee shops to sit and relax and ponder the big decisions about "what to do next". And day trips to Bicheno, Coles Bay, Dolphin Sands, the Berry Farm near Swansea, and Little Swan Port for bream fishing, which was another favourite spot.

Ida eventually realised that there was a limit to feelings of simplistic comfort, particularly as the body aged and joints become less forgiving. Ida's 20-year tour of duty on the naturally hardened floor of a tent was a significant achievement, but it couldn't last.

A caravan was purchased second-hand to add "a bit more comfort". The caravan upgrade "had its moments". Perhaps the simplicity of the tent was far easier, Ida used to think. The canvas top had to be popped before pushing out the beds at each end, "it was an experience not easy to master".

However, once Ida's home was set-up following moments of agitation, frustration, and sweat, the stress would soon drift away.

When Ida and her husband's children left home and their camping friends moved on to other adventures, they again upgraded and purchased another second-hand caravan.

"It was our pride and joy - a 14-foot Royal Flair Micron, small but luxurious compared to the first one," Ida recalled.

Ida and her husband still visit their beloved Swansea, but now reside in the "comfortable cabins".

They still stop for coffee and an ice-cream at Campbell Town, which stirs happy memories of their younger, "more youthful" days.

Ida Stein still yearns for those moments of simplicity where time is important, but not counted.

But, above all, she still loves her family and friends.

*Name changed for privacy reasons.