The long-running mystery of missing Belgian backpacker Celine Cremer has reached a poignant and agonizing pause. After a renewed private search effort uncovered her long-lost mobile phone and other potential personal items deep in Tasmania’s unforgiving Tarkine rainforest, authorities have now suspended operations—not due to a lack of leads, but to allow for critical forensic testing that could finally unlock the secrets of her final moments. The decision has left volunteers, family, and investigators stunned, grappling with the realization that answers may be tantalizingly close, yet still just out of reach in the dense wilderness near Philosopher Falls.

Celine Cremer, a vibrant 31-year-old from Belgium, disappeared without a trace on June 17, 2023, during what was intended to be a brief solo hike to Philosopher Falls in northwest Tasmania. The scenic trail, winding through lush rainforest to a stunning waterfall, seemed like the perfect short adventure for the experienced traveler who had spent six months exploring the island’s wild landscapes.

She was mere days from heading home, with a ferry booking to mainland Australia on June 21. But when she failed to board the Spirit of Tasmania, alarm bells rang. Her white Honda CRV was found parked at the trailhead on June 27, kicking off an intensive initial search involving police, SES volunteers, drones, and cadaver dogs. Harsh winter conditions—freezing temperatures, heavy rain, and snow—hampered efforts, and the operation was suspended on July 10 after medical experts deemed survival unlikely beyond a few days.

For over two years, the case remained a haunting enigma in the small town of Waratah, where locals still recall recommending the falls to the friendly tourist. Cremer’s family, led by her mother Ariane, never gave up hope. They turned to private investigator Ken Gamble, who analyzed her phone data pro bono and conducted multiple reconnaissance missions.

The breakthrough arrived in December 2025. A renewed independent search, starting December 13 and involving around 30 volunteers—including Cremer’s friends flown in from Belgium—targeted areas off the beaten path based on GPS pings. On the very first day, volunteer Tony Hage spotted a purple Samsung phone buried under moss and leaf litter, about 300 meters off-track and near her last known coordinates. Confirmed by serial number as Cremer’s, the device had remarkably survived the elements.

Tasmania Police immediately joined the effort, providing resources and expertise. Excitement surged as searchers uncovered more: an empty Mt Ossa spring water bottle with its lid intact and a black garbage bag cut into a makeshift poncho, tucked beside a fallen log that appeared to serve as a temporary shelter.

These finds painted a chilling yet hopeful picture. Data suggests Cremer veered off-trail using Google Maps for a shortcut as daylight faded, possibly dropping her phone and pressing on disoriented into the thick bush. The shelter items indicate she survived at least one night, rationing water and fashioning protection against the cold and rain—consistent with her eco-aware habits of carrying trash bags.

Phone found during renewed search for missing Belgian tourist …

Volunteers described waves of emotion: tears of joy at the phone’s discovery, followed by bittersweet resolve. Filmmaker Rob Parsons, documenting the search, called it a “game changer.” Private investigator Gamble noted the items fit Cremer’s profile perfectly—she wouldn’t litter.

But after several grueling days battling extreme weather swings, snake hazards, and exhausting terrain, the search was halted mid-December. Items were handed to police for urgent forensic analysis, including DNA testing on the bottle and bag, plus data extraction from the phone for photos, logs, or location details.

The suspension stems from this necessity: contaminating evidence or missing key insights could jeopardize closure. Weather delays and volunteer fatigue played roles, but the core reason is prudent investigation. As one report put it, searchers needed to “take a breath” while awaiting results.

This pause has amplified the heartbreak. Volunteers emerged grim-faced, some extending stays to continue informally. Cremer’s Belgian friends vowed returns if needed. Locals like Judi Hunter, who catered for the team and erected a memorial rock, feel the weight of proximity without resolution.

The discoveries reinforce the theory of accidental disorientation in one of Australia’s most impenetrable rainforests—dense undergrowth, fallen giants, and sudden drops claiming many before. Questions linger: Why no emergency call? Poor signal, unfamiliarity with Australia’s 000, or the phone lost early? Forensic outcomes could clarify.

As Christmas approaches, the case captivates anew, sparking discussions on trail safety—new warning signs now urge staying on paths. For Cremer’s loved ones, these clues offer agonizing proximity to truth: she fought, she was close to potential escape, yet the