BIG boys don't cry and Wes Mannion's jaw clenches to fight back the lump in his throat as he talks about his best mate, Steve Irwin.

It's been almost a year since the seemingly indestructible Crocodile Hunter died in that encounter with a stingray, but emotions are still raw.

Not only has Mannion had to step in to fill the boots of one of the most popular Aussie icons and keep Irwin's Australia Zoo dream alive, he has had to do it while still grieving for the best friend he also regarded as a brother.

"There's not a day I haven't thought about Steve simply because he's been so much a part of my life,'' Mannion, the director of Australia Zoo, said in an exclusive interview ahead of the first anniversary of Irwin's death on September 4.

"The weirdest thing is that as time goes by I miss him more and more. The first six months you miss him. Then a few more months go past and that's when the reality sets in and you really start to miss him and that doesn't go away. It just gets heavier and heavier.''

"So that's a selfish thing that you personally have to deal with. Every day I miss him more and more and more.

"I've never really lost anyone close to me, ever. Someone said that they're always there and I've gone 'yeah, sure' but as time goes on you realise they really are there. It's just so strong. You make a decision and you just feel someone is there.

"It's not a weird thing like a pat on the shoulder and a whisper in your ear; you just feel them there and you feel you're two people rather than one ... everything you've been through together, the wisdom you've picked up - you now have in you. You don't realise that until you lose someone so close.

"Although it gets harder in one respect because you miss them so much, you feel like he's there and he's, like, geeing you on. Especially Steve - he was just pure energy. He's not a guy you forget.
"He'd ring me out of the blue - on weekends or holidays and say 'hey mate, whaddaya think about this?'

Life with Steve wasn't nine to five it was snap, snap, snap (clicking fingers). When he was excited about something it didn't matter where you were in the world he'd ring and say 'whaddaya think?''

Mannion, 37, who first chummed up with the eight years older Irwin at the tender age of 14 after his childhood passion for snakes led him to the zoo, says Irwin's death last year was the hardest thing he had ever had to go through.

He said the day took on a surreal quality when he first heard the bad news in a phone call.

"The guys had finished doing the croc work (up north) and Steve had gone to do some filming (off Port Douglas) and I was at a palm nursery digging up a whole heap of palms - we were finishing the elephant exhibit - and I got a call on my way back to the zoo,'' he said.

"At first I thought 'no,no.he's ripped open his leg again or busted his arm. I do that every other day too, it'll be all right.''

``I didn't get the message straight off and when I found out I just couldn't, just couldn't believe it. It was a really strange day."

Mannion said the freaky nature of Irwin's death - stabbed through the heart with a stingray barb - had made dealing with it a little easier in one sense.

"If he had jumped a sixteen foot crocodile on his own and told no-one to come near him while he did it, sure - but his ability with animals was second to none.he really had a mind meld with animals.

``It was fate. Thousands of people swim with stingrays every day of the week.''

It wasn't anything you could plan for - that makes that part easier. I'm not playing it over and over in my head saying 'what if?'

Mannion said he had never seen, nor wanted to see, the controversial film footage of his friend's last moments and was relieved it had been destroyed.

He said he would also guard the secret of whether Irwin was buried or cremated and where his remains lay.

"Steve, as much as he was an open book to everyone he was a private man as well,'' he said, but added that talk of a commemorative statue of Irwin somewhere on the Sunshine Coast was ``a cool idea''.

Mannion said that even in his own grief at losing his best friend of more than 20 years, his first thoughts were for Steve's wife, Terri, and their two young children, Bindi and Robert.

"We bunkered down a lot,'' he said.

"My main concern was the kids and Terri because no one was as close to Steve as those three. I mean, yeah, I was his best mate - but your wife and kids, they're the closest.

"We (the family) all just stuck together - nothing broke apart. At the end of the day we had to get through that shock, that realisation.

"I still do (sometimes) expect him to come walking through that door, because everything I do in my life revolves around Steve.

``Like when I go surfing. I've only been surfing once since the accident. Every morning, Steve and I, we used to go surfing.''

"It's a pleasure and a pain. It's beautiful because you just get a sudden surge of memory. I'll grab something or remember something he said or go to do stuff and I think 'oh, how would he do it?' because he taught me everything that I know. It's really, really hard."

Mannion said while there had been no days when he thought he could not continue on without his friend, he drew some comfort from the fact that Irwin had always lived in the moment.

"Steve lived probably the equivalent of three lives,'' Mannion said. "I'm not saying he knew when he was going (to die). But he certainly knew he was here for a short time and whether that time was 50 or 60 or 70 years, for Steve it was too short so he was just going flat out.

``He was a machine and that's why we've all gone for (his dream) and not fallen over and crawled up in a ball and gone to sleep.

``He tried to jam as much as he could in a short amount of time. The only time that didn't happen was when he had his kids. He was an incredible father, an absolutely awesome dad and he put so much time into the kids. That's the only time when I can honestly say he ever slowed down.

``Like if he was in a meeting and Bindi would come up and go `daddy, daddy' he wouldn't go `uh-uh, this is a really important meeting, off you go'. He would grab her and play with her and love her.''

Mannion said next to his family and wildlife conservation, Irwin had loved his zoo with a passion and saw it as both his sanctuary and major goal inlife.

It's a passion matched by Mannion who has vowed to do anything he can to keep it going and expanding.

``Sometimes I think `I hope people don't think I'm trying to be Steve here', that people understand where I fit in the picture and that I'm not and never will be (Steve) but that he was my brother.

``The one thing I want to do more than anything in life is to keep his dream alive.

``I've been in a lot of documentaries with Steve over the years but it's not my passion. I can do it, but I ain't Steve and I'm never going to be.

"Bindi will be Bindi. She's not going to be Steve. She will be what she wants to be and do what she wants to do. And the great thing about (young) Bob is that he's ended up with Steve's personality and he'll be like `I'll just go and do what I want to do'.

"Terri is such a fantastic mum. She's not going to pressure them to do anything or say `you can't do it' because people will say I'm pushing you into it.

"Anyone who's spent time with Bindi knows she does what she wants to do. She knows how to get her own way and she's a typical nine-year-old.

"There's a couple of things she has to do and one is school and the other is brushing her teeth at night - other than that she understands she doesn't have to (do anything).

"She has fun. Bindi's a wonderful little kid and she'll be what she wants to be. At the end of the day you can't pressure your kids to do anything because if you do they'll buck it.''

Mannion said Australians tended to handle death really badly.

"It's like `let's not talk about it, let's sweep it under the carpet, let's get rid of the photos, don't mention his name', instead of embracing that person,'' he said.

Which is why Mannion is glad that all the Steve Irwin signage still abounds at the zoo as well as everywhere else to continue promoting the Irwin brand and his conservation message.

"We haven't had one complaint at all (about the signs). Everyone loves it.''

Mannion said while he was not surprised by the outpouring of love and grief in the wake of Irwin's death, he was pleasantly surprised that so much of it came from Australians who had tended to knock the Crocodile Hunter's exuberant style in the past.

"That would have meant a lot to him (Irwin). Looking down, it really would have meant a lot to him. He'd have gone 'wow, I did make a difference' which was all he wanted to do."

Mannion, who still bears the scars from being attacked from behind by a crocodile while helping Irwin clear flood debris at night from one of the zoo's enclosures six years ago, said his friend had helped save his life then and had always shown unflinching loyalty and courage.

"If I was to have one person near me in any situation he would be the one. Once he believed something was right he would back you 'til the cows came home.

With his wife Jodie at his side as the zoo's assistant director and their young son Riley, 2, Mannion said he now realised _ as Irwin did _ that parents should take a leaf out of their children's books.

"Kids have an attitude to get on with things and have fun,'' he said.

"Steve was a jokester as well, always into having fun. He'd get bored pretty quick.

"With Steve there was always something exciting happening and if there wasn't he'd say: `let's make it exciting'.

``There will be no one like Steve ever again. He was one of a kind.''

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