Slamming Sam. It is a nickname whispered in the corridors of courts, within the walls of legal chambers and probably in a number of prison cells.

Key points: Sam Mollard worked as a tuna fisherman before going on to become Tasmania's longest-serving magistrate

Sam Mollard worked as a tuna fisherman before going on to become Tasmania's longest-serving magistrate He said his career had been enormously stimulating

He said his career had been enormously stimulating He was respected by both colleagues and those on the wrong side of the law

The term of endearment belongs to Magistrate Sam Mollard and has been hard won over 30 years presiding over courts across Tasmania.

The state's longest-serving magistrate officially stepped down from the bench for the last time on Friday.

"I've had a feeling of sadness all day," the 71-year-old said.

"There hasn't been a moment of boredom. It's been enormously stimulating."

While he may have the nickname "Slamming Sam" based, perhaps a little unfairly on how many people he has slammed a cell door on, he is also known for his humanity in applying the law.

Framed on the wall of his chambers is a letter from a defendant who came before him in 1994, describing how he developed an appreciation for Magistrate Mollard's style of tough but fair justice.

"I have never been a great fan of our legal system, as I felt that most cases were judged on the letter of the law rather than the spirit," the letter read. "I felt your handling of all cases before you, to be done with, not only a thorough knowledge of the letter of the law but also a very human understanding of the spirit and interpretation of the law. "In short sir, with people like yourself, I feel confident that our legal system may still have a great future and although blind, justice for me is no longer deaf or dumb."

The author stated he would have written the letter regardless of the outcome of his case, although Magistrate Mollard is quick to point out his fan was acquitted.

"One fan letter in 30 years isn't a lot!" Magistrate Mollard laughed.

Chief Magistrate Catherine Geason said the retiring magistrate had "been a significant contributor to the people of Tasmania having access to justice".

But she admits, as a lawyer, coming before Magistrate Mollard could be terrifying.

"It's been an absolute pleasure working with him [as a magistrate] for the past nine and a half years," she said.

"And before that, even though a little bit scary at times … because everyone knows when you come into Mr Mollard's court you come with your A game because if you come with your B or your C games it's not going to end well."

A departing Sam Mollard shares a laugh with a colleague on his final day. ( ABC News: Peter Curtis )

From tuna fisherman to lawyer

Magistrate Mollard described it as "chance" that he ended up as a lawyer and then a magistrate.

"I was meant to be a farmer or perhaps a fisherman," he said.

"I was a poor and lazy student … running, rowing and fighting my brothers and keeping them in line, which I thought I had a duty to do, was a much more important series of past times.

"Fifty-one per cent was a good mark and until my last year at university when, quite by chance, I chose what at Monash [University] was called 'legal philosophy' ... that struck a chord somewhere for some reason."

He was working as a tuna fisherman when he came to Tasmania in the 1970s and stayed, working as a lawyer and then a magistrate in the state's north-west.

"I thank all of you who have supported me, put up with me, and who have tried to understand me," he said.

Over the past 30 years Magistrate Mollard has regularly quoted Shakespeare, Charles Dickens and others when explaining his sentences — sometimes to defendants who could barely write their own name.

"I've earned too many blank looks and only the occasional nod of recognition and more than a few deep sighs," he laughed.

But it is perhaps another sign that all those who have come before him have been treated as equals.

And even in his retirement speech he offered up one final pearl of self-deprecating wisdom as he quoted from Shakespeare's Julius Caesar to the almost 200 people who had gathered in his court to farewell him:

"We come to bury Caesar, not to praise him."