Group of seven people standing around a woman sitting at a large, irregularly shaped wooden table in a room.

Who we are

In the heart of Western Australia’s South West sits a town called Manjimup. mostly known for its fruit and veg farms.this . now as Slab N Burl Hardwoods built on generations of connection to the land. Owners Clint and Nikki Decke are the. family’s fourth-generation to work the land of the ‘Mistletoe’ property. Today, that passion has grown into a dedicated timber business with a deeply personal history.

Our collection of slabs and burls has been thoughtfully and responsibly sourced from private properties, storm-felled trees, natural windfalls, and selective farmland clearing. We also acquire exceptional pieces through Forest Products Commission (FPC) auctions. Spanning from 1992 to the present, the collection represents decades of care, curation, and respect for our forests.

Over the years, we’ve had the privilege of supplying discerning woodworkers, designers, and makers with one-of-a-kind slabs — whether in raw form or carefully surfaced and ready for transformation. Every slab tells a story. Every burl holds potential. And every piece reflects the enduring beauty and strength of Western Australian hardwood.

A man and a young girl smiling and embracing in a kitchen. The man has long brown hair and a beard, and the girl has blonde hair. There are shelves with books and decorative items behind them.

Origin story

From Potatoes to Timber: A Life Rooted in the Land

Before there was timber, there were potatoes.

Like many farmers in Manjimup, Clint Decke spent his early days clearing trees to make way for crops. He recalls how some trees would take multiple attempts to remove — and how it always felt wrong to heap them up and burn them.

“There wasn’t much value in the potatoes on that patch of land. I remember thinking, surely the tree I just cleared was worth more than what I’d get out of the soil.”

That question stayed with him.

One day, while collecting firewood, he came across a massive old tree — a log that had been lying there since the 1800s. When he started to cut it, he paused. It was solid, heavy, and beautiful, and it just didn’t feel right to burn something of that quality. That moment became a turning point.

With transportable mills just starting to appear, he chased down knowledge and cut his first slab, using the timber in his own home and selling the rest. Ironically, the logging crews had passed that same log twice — it wasn’t standing, so it was ignored. Clint saw what others missed.

Soon, salvaging timber became a passion, and a way to escape the grind of farming — and the returns were better than potatoes. He began spotting trees across neighbouring properties, searching for what others had overlooked. Each tree was like a treasure hunt, full of mystery beneath the bark.

“Every cut was exciting — you never knew what you’d find. And honestly, that feeling hasn’t changed.”

At first, he began drying timber just to add value, but when a dressing machine arrived, he saw it again — the inner beauty of the wood revealed. The grain, the tone, the history. Today, he still gets a kick knowing one of his slabs might now be a dining table in Perth, a bar top in Brisbane, or an heirloom in a home somewhere across the country.

“That someone, somewhere is having a beer, sharing a meal, or passing something down — made from a tree I salvaged — that’s what keeps it meaningful.”

Finding suitable logs has always been the hardest part. But finding a good one? That’s still the most rewarding.