Plasnart
18th June 2020, 04:58 PM
Has anybody ever heard anything about "Button Man" in the Vic High Country? I'd never heard about him until this afternoon when an ex-Vic Pol detective was asked about him on talk back radio, and doing a bit of googling I now find this article.
I really have no idea about this guy but if nothing else it's an intriguing yarn/conspiracy theory!
Here's a link to the cut-and-paste below from The Age newspaper dated 22 May 2020, written by John Sylvester. In my opinion he's a well-respected crime/police reporter, so makes me believe there's something to this.
Go here for the online article with additional pictures: https://www.theage.com.au/national/victoria/the-button-man-could-be-key-to-mounting-mountain-mystery-20200521-p54v4p.html
Here's the cut-and-paste:
Victoria’s high country is a place of beauty and mystery that remains reluctant to give up its secrets. It is the sort of remote wilderness that inspired The Man From Snowy River (although these days you can get a Devonshire Tea, a craft beer or a bric-a-brac bargain at the fringes in any number of pretty tourist towns). It is a region much loved by hunters, skiers, anglers, campers, bushwalkers and the occasional gangland killer looking for a place to hide a body.
When we drive through in airconditioned and heated cars, along roads cut through bush and towering trees, it is easy to forget this terrain can swallow up the unprepared or the unfortunate.
A few days ago police launched a search in another remote area of the state, the Bunyip State Park, looking for signs of Dale Pantic, a Lakes Entrance drug dealer who went missing 13 months ago.
So far it has been fruitless.
In recent years there have been experienced hunters, well-equipped bushwalkers, campers and day trippers who have disappeared without trace. With no concrete evidence of what happened, it is perhaps natural that rumours fill the void.
There have been theories including a paid hitman stalking the former governor of Barwon Prison, a couple fabricating their own disappearance and an accidental shooting where the victim was buried. And it is why locals in the area speculate about a regular visitor who disappears into the mountains for months at a time known as Buttons or The Button-Man.
He is a flint-hard, expert bushman who earned his nickname from his habit of using deer antlers to make buttons and fashion large plugs for his ear piercings. He has made a camp on the side of a remote mountain that lets him see anyone approaching, uses snares to catch deer and hunts with expertly crafted Indigenous-style spears.
Many campers and hunters have stories of the Button-Man emerging from the dark and approaching them at campsites. He is described as around 70, with short grey hair, wearing dark jackets and "bloody scary". Others say he is “spooky”, but no one reports any threats or violence.
He will grill them on why they are there but rarely responds to questions about himself. They say he moves through the toughest terrain with the competence and stamina of someone half his age. At least eight experienced bushmen have had encounters, with one saying he had a “thousand-metre stare that made the hairs on the back of your neck stand up”.
They say no one knows he is near until he decides to make himself known. A wildlife photographer spent days taking shots in the area near the Button-Man’s camp. When he returned home and downloaded his photos to his computer there was one unexplained shot of the photographer asleep inside his tent. No one knows who took the shot.
For reasons known only to himself, the Button-Man builds rock pyramids in random spots and places piles of pebbles on roads to know if a car has passed. Bushies who have stooked firewood supplies in hidden crevices have found their stash gone. They say someone must have been watching to know the location.
It is entirely possible people who become lost, disoriented or unwell can die in the cold of the High Country, their bodies never recovered. But when the number of cases grow without any obvious reason in a roughly 60-kilometre radius, there will be talk, even if it is not based on any hard evidence.
First, let’s look at the cases.
Russell Hill, 74, and Carol Clay, 73, disappeared on March 20 from their campsite on Dry River Track, Wonnangatta. Hill was a former bush logger who knew the area well. Their campsite had been burned out and his specially equipped camper utility was left singed and abandoned. Hill’s drone is still missing. They had full and happy lives at their respective homes and showed no indication of wanting to disappear. Checks have shown they have not accessed their phones, credit cards or bank accounts. Police believe they are dead but despite repeated searches have found no evidence as to what actually happened. If they haven’t engineered their own disappearance and were the victims of an accident, then how did their campsite - set up for comfort with a tent, outdoor shower, fold-up chairs and a table - just happen to catch fire? What has not been revealed is that Hill was in the area a week before, flying his drone near the Button-Man’s campsite.
In October last year Niels Becker, 39, an experienced bushwalker, went missing on a five-day hike. He left the Upper Jamieson Hut on October 24 and two days later sent a message to his family from Vallejo Gantner Hut that he was heading to his car at Mount Stirling. The last confirmed sighting was by the Button-Man, who told police he saw the well-equipped hiker in his area. The track took him past the Button-Man’s camp. This is hardly surprising as his camp is at a spot known as the Cross-Roads where bushwalkers in the know head because it is one of the few places with good radio reception.
No one really knows why Conrad Whitlock, 72, drove into the High Country in July last year nor why he left his white BMW in darkness on the side of Mount Buller Road along with his jacket, mobile phone and keys. If he had a medical episode (he had been suffering from unexplained headaches) surely he would have finished only metres from the road, or if it was a bizarre suicide then a note for his family would seem likely. One theory is he left his warm car for a toilet stop and decided he didn’t need a jacket for such a quick break.
Of all the mysteries, former Barwon Prison governor David Prideaux, 50, is the greatest. I met Dave a couple of times and found him to be smart, energetic and committed. What I didn’t know was that he was a passionate bush hunter. On June 5, 2011, he went hunting with his brother-in-law from Tomahawk Hut, Mount Stirling, and has not been seen since. There were many theories, including that he was killed over the murder of drug dealer Carl Williams, who had been ambushed and murdered inside Barwon more than a year earlier. It is nonsense. Urban hitmen wouldn’t have a chance of creeping up on an experienced hunter. And most wear slip-on shoes with no socks – hardly appropriate gear for the high country.
There is another case, not quite within the defined area, but close enough to be of interest.
Warren Meyer, 57, disappeared from Dom Dom Saddle in March 2008. For Meyer, an experienced bushwalker, the four-hour hike was easy. The weather was fine, he was equipped with a phone, GPS and food and water - yet he was never heard from again. The fact that in these cases phones were not used, GPS not activated, and not even the slightest trail left has led to whispered speculation – speculation that is a long way from evidence.
These mysteries have led to talk in the Mansfield area, with many hunters, campers and locals sharing their stories about chance encounters with the Button-Man. Such as the experienced shooter who woke around 11pm for a night hunt to find Button-Man camped next to him. Some think he sees it as harmless sport to “hunt the hunters”, proving he can approach the best without them knowing.
Police from the Missing Persons Squad have heard these stories too, which is why Search and Rescue Police hiked into a remote area near King Billy Track to buttonhole the Button-Man at his base, perched on a high point in the Alpine National Park. Eventually the man who prefers his own company was up for a chat. Police went there not to accuse him of anything (other than camping illegally) but to seek his help because he knows the area as well as anyone and sometimes sits off hikers, silently watching them pass. After all, you would always ask the lighthouse keeper what he saw after a shipwreck.
Last week police searched the area where Russell Hill and Carol Clay were last seen in a final effort before the snow. They found nothing. The trail may be cold but soon it will be frozen. Meanwhile there are sporadic sightings of the Button-Man, wandering into Mansfield to buy supplies or in the bush. He is a unique character who is extremely resourceful, slightly possessive of the area he sees as his patch and usually only seen when he wants to be seen. But that will not stop others from wondering. What makes him tick?
I really have no idea about this guy but if nothing else it's an intriguing yarn/conspiracy theory!
Here's a link to the cut-and-paste below from The Age newspaper dated 22 May 2020, written by John Sylvester. In my opinion he's a well-respected crime/police reporter, so makes me believe there's something to this.
Go here for the online article with additional pictures: https://www.theage.com.au/national/victoria/the-button-man-could-be-key-to-mounting-mountain-mystery-20200521-p54v4p.html
Here's the cut-and-paste:
Victoria’s high country is a place of beauty and mystery that remains reluctant to give up its secrets. It is the sort of remote wilderness that inspired The Man From Snowy River (although these days you can get a Devonshire Tea, a craft beer or a bric-a-brac bargain at the fringes in any number of pretty tourist towns). It is a region much loved by hunters, skiers, anglers, campers, bushwalkers and the occasional gangland killer looking for a place to hide a body.
When we drive through in airconditioned and heated cars, along roads cut through bush and towering trees, it is easy to forget this terrain can swallow up the unprepared or the unfortunate.
A few days ago police launched a search in another remote area of the state, the Bunyip State Park, looking for signs of Dale Pantic, a Lakes Entrance drug dealer who went missing 13 months ago.
So far it has been fruitless.
In recent years there have been experienced hunters, well-equipped bushwalkers, campers and day trippers who have disappeared without trace. With no concrete evidence of what happened, it is perhaps natural that rumours fill the void.
There have been theories including a paid hitman stalking the former governor of Barwon Prison, a couple fabricating their own disappearance and an accidental shooting where the victim was buried. And it is why locals in the area speculate about a regular visitor who disappears into the mountains for months at a time known as Buttons or The Button-Man.
He is a flint-hard, expert bushman who earned his nickname from his habit of using deer antlers to make buttons and fashion large plugs for his ear piercings. He has made a camp on the side of a remote mountain that lets him see anyone approaching, uses snares to catch deer and hunts with expertly crafted Indigenous-style spears.
Many campers and hunters have stories of the Button-Man emerging from the dark and approaching them at campsites. He is described as around 70, with short grey hair, wearing dark jackets and "bloody scary". Others say he is “spooky”, but no one reports any threats or violence.
He will grill them on why they are there but rarely responds to questions about himself. They say he moves through the toughest terrain with the competence and stamina of someone half his age. At least eight experienced bushmen have had encounters, with one saying he had a “thousand-metre stare that made the hairs on the back of your neck stand up”.
They say no one knows he is near until he decides to make himself known. A wildlife photographer spent days taking shots in the area near the Button-Man’s camp. When he returned home and downloaded his photos to his computer there was one unexplained shot of the photographer asleep inside his tent. No one knows who took the shot.
For reasons known only to himself, the Button-Man builds rock pyramids in random spots and places piles of pebbles on roads to know if a car has passed. Bushies who have stooked firewood supplies in hidden crevices have found their stash gone. They say someone must have been watching to know the location.
It is entirely possible people who become lost, disoriented or unwell can die in the cold of the High Country, their bodies never recovered. But when the number of cases grow without any obvious reason in a roughly 60-kilometre radius, there will be talk, even if it is not based on any hard evidence.
First, let’s look at the cases.
Russell Hill, 74, and Carol Clay, 73, disappeared on March 20 from their campsite on Dry River Track, Wonnangatta. Hill was a former bush logger who knew the area well. Their campsite had been burned out and his specially equipped camper utility was left singed and abandoned. Hill’s drone is still missing. They had full and happy lives at their respective homes and showed no indication of wanting to disappear. Checks have shown they have not accessed their phones, credit cards or bank accounts. Police believe they are dead but despite repeated searches have found no evidence as to what actually happened. If they haven’t engineered their own disappearance and were the victims of an accident, then how did their campsite - set up for comfort with a tent, outdoor shower, fold-up chairs and a table - just happen to catch fire? What has not been revealed is that Hill was in the area a week before, flying his drone near the Button-Man’s campsite.
In October last year Niels Becker, 39, an experienced bushwalker, went missing on a five-day hike. He left the Upper Jamieson Hut on October 24 and two days later sent a message to his family from Vallejo Gantner Hut that he was heading to his car at Mount Stirling. The last confirmed sighting was by the Button-Man, who told police he saw the well-equipped hiker in his area. The track took him past the Button-Man’s camp. This is hardly surprising as his camp is at a spot known as the Cross-Roads where bushwalkers in the know head because it is one of the few places with good radio reception.
No one really knows why Conrad Whitlock, 72, drove into the High Country in July last year nor why he left his white BMW in darkness on the side of Mount Buller Road along with his jacket, mobile phone and keys. If he had a medical episode (he had been suffering from unexplained headaches) surely he would have finished only metres from the road, or if it was a bizarre suicide then a note for his family would seem likely. One theory is he left his warm car for a toilet stop and decided he didn’t need a jacket for such a quick break.
Of all the mysteries, former Barwon Prison governor David Prideaux, 50, is the greatest. I met Dave a couple of times and found him to be smart, energetic and committed. What I didn’t know was that he was a passionate bush hunter. On June 5, 2011, he went hunting with his brother-in-law from Tomahawk Hut, Mount Stirling, and has not been seen since. There were many theories, including that he was killed over the murder of drug dealer Carl Williams, who had been ambushed and murdered inside Barwon more than a year earlier. It is nonsense. Urban hitmen wouldn’t have a chance of creeping up on an experienced hunter. And most wear slip-on shoes with no socks – hardly appropriate gear for the high country.
There is another case, not quite within the defined area, but close enough to be of interest.
Warren Meyer, 57, disappeared from Dom Dom Saddle in March 2008. For Meyer, an experienced bushwalker, the four-hour hike was easy. The weather was fine, he was equipped with a phone, GPS and food and water - yet he was never heard from again. The fact that in these cases phones were not used, GPS not activated, and not even the slightest trail left has led to whispered speculation – speculation that is a long way from evidence.
These mysteries have led to talk in the Mansfield area, with many hunters, campers and locals sharing their stories about chance encounters with the Button-Man. Such as the experienced shooter who woke around 11pm for a night hunt to find Button-Man camped next to him. Some think he sees it as harmless sport to “hunt the hunters”, proving he can approach the best without them knowing.
Police from the Missing Persons Squad have heard these stories too, which is why Search and Rescue Police hiked into a remote area near King Billy Track to buttonhole the Button-Man at his base, perched on a high point in the Alpine National Park. Eventually the man who prefers his own company was up for a chat. Police went there not to accuse him of anything (other than camping illegally) but to seek his help because he knows the area as well as anyone and sometimes sits off hikers, silently watching them pass. After all, you would always ask the lighthouse keeper what he saw after a shipwreck.
Last week police searched the area where Russell Hill and Carol Clay were last seen in a final effort before the snow. They found nothing. The trail may be cold but soon it will be frozen. Meanwhile there are sporadic sightings of the Button-Man, wandering into Mansfield to buy supplies or in the bush. He is a unique character who is extremely resourceful, slightly possessive of the area he sees as his patch and usually only seen when he wants to be seen. But that will not stop others from wondering. What makes him tick?