If you’ve missed it, this series starts here.
Warning: Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander readers are warned that this post may contain an image of a dead person (I don’t know if it does or not).
Tuesday 5 December 1995
20/288 Casuarina Drive
Nightcliff 0810
Dad , “ H a p p y B i r t h d a y t o y o u . . . ” Howdie Dad and Mum,
We hope you, and the rest of the clan are well. We’re both fighting fit.
Its good to hear that you are doing so well at all the art & craft stalls Mum. Don’t over do it though – its the start of the silly season you know! How’s the vegie patch Dad? Are you growing any onions?
We’re having a really bad run with onions up here at the moment. You can’t buy a decent one anywhere. They sell for around $5 kg and even then they’re usually small and soggy – yuk!.
Perhaps its because its the start of the “The Build-Up” season. Some days the humidity, particularly in the mornings around 9am is in the high 90s – its very hot and moist.
We’re having to become vigilant in spotting outcrops of mould. Already one side of Paul’s fridge has tried to grow itself a rather disgusting grey woolly coat, and we’ve had to take down our large oval wall mirror, because the damp has got into the backing (where the chain is mounted) making hanging it a little precarious – Mm, Mm, I love this weather!
Storms roll in each day, but up to last Sunday, we had only experienced your average sort of rolling thunder and sheet lightning. But on Sunday night we were finally treated to a real doo-zey of a thunder storm.
Colin Joyce enjoyed his stay with us. He arrived on Thursday 9th November at 3.45pm on Ansett flight 394 from Perth – coincidentally, just like we had exactly one year ago in 1994.
Slight difference though – he only stayed one week. Greg took some time off while he was here, so we did the full tourist bit once again ie: Howard Springs, Fannie Bay Gaol, East Point Reserve, Litchfield Park, Territory Wild Life Park, Stokes Hill Wharf, Museum of Arts and Sciences, Parliament House, Aviation Museum (I didn’t go to this, Col and Greg thought it was OK but wouldn’t bother going again), Rapid Creek & Parap Markets, NTU and a few restaurants to boot.
However, in the main, the past couple of months have passed quickly and relatively quietly on the social front. We’ve had a couple of outings worthy of a mention though, and I’ll try and relay to you Greg’s impressions of his most recent work-related trip. So to begin…
The first Saturday in October, we packed a lunch and took off on a 128km driving adventure to Mandorah – Darwin’s equivalent to Perth’s Rotto or perhaps Mandurah or Moore River 30 years back.
Adventure, because we were unsure on two counts, one being the inclement weather, the other being the state of the roads and the effect of the weather on them – our road map indicated that part of the journey would be on an ‘earth’ road, but for just how far, and as to what this meant, we couldn’t quite tell.
It was still bitumen when we took the turn-off to Darwin River Dam. (This is where we get our water supply from, and where on the weekend of our trip to Katherine, there was a fire in the pumping station putting Darwin’s water supply in serious jeopardy. Strict rationing was imposed for that weekend, and to a lesser degree for the following week).
We walked across the dam wall in the damn humid heat, spotting bird-life as we went. About 3/4s the way across I was startled by a 4 foot long water monitor quietly watching us, just 2 feet away to my side.
I thought Greg had also seen this rather large lizard, but he hadn’t and when he did – he nearly ended up in the water he jumped so high!
The bulk of our trip as it turned out was mainly on bitumen, only the last 30km being gravel, and very good gravel at that. Mandorah is at the tip of the Cox Peninsula and faces Darwin. Most people opt for the quicker route – they take the ferry from Cullen Bay and arrive in less than 20 minutes.
Mandorah’s charm is purely for locals as an affordable holiday escape. It is not in the tourist literature, and we now know why. There is not much there, apart from a scattering of holiday homes (predominantly tin shed dwellings), the “dump” which is filled with rusted car bodies and parts all neatly stacked in roped off and labelled sections, a beachfront pub with a very dubious reputation (there are no police in Mandorah), a general store cum petrol station, and the ferry jetty – which proved to be the most appealing part of our visit to the “island get-a-way”.
A ferry had just docked, a dozen or so locals clambered ashore laden with shopping bags as though triumphantly returning from the royal show. They jumped into the handful of utes and 4wd’s parked at the jetty and drove off, leaving us the pick of the parking spots.
We went for a walk along the jetty, it was 20 degrees cooler out there, I was cold! The jetty is multi-leveled to allow for the massive tide ebb and flow. Many of the lower levels are constantly under water as was evident by the amount of barnacles on both the concrete pylons and the seriously rusted floor grating which we gingerly walked along.
Outrageous, and a rip-off!
It was extremely windy and there were no railings to cling to. We watched some people fishing and scuba-diving and some kids showed us the washed up carcass of a good sized shark – it was fly infested and a kite was keenly circling overhead.
It didn’t put us off our lunch though. We ate in our car watching the kite circling above, and a large cargo ship leave the harbour. It was a pleasant outing.
We planned to stay the Monday night of our 6th Wedding Anniversary at The Diamond Beach Casino, as to date we hadn’t been there together. So, I rang a week before to make a reservation. I was astounded to find that not only would it cost $236 a night for a standard room only, but they were fully booked anyway.
Outrageous, and a rip-off! Especially considering (as you know from your own visit) that its not a particularly flash joint anyway.
So I rang The Atrium Hotel then the The Beaufort Hotel, only to learn they were also fully booked – tourists! Don’t they know the dry season is over?
Persistence finally paid dividends though. I eventually came across an exceptionally good offer (relatively speaking) from The Plaza Hotel. Not only is it the only five star Hotel in town offering 24 hour room service and in-house movies, but for 70 bucks less than the Casino, they would throw in a free buffet brekkie, and free movie passes as well.
Greg knocked off mid arvo on Monday and returned to work at lunch-time on Tuesday. It turned out to be a really appreciated break. The selection of in-house movies was pretty good – one movie in particular we thought was a real bonus because we’d been trying to get it – without success – from a variety of video stores for the past couple of years.
Our hotel-room overlooked Stokes Hill Wharf, and Parliament House – which is lit at night, giving the building a glowing fairytale castle effect. We enjoyed a pleasant dinner at Raymond’s, an up-market restaurant a blocks walk from the hotel.
From Tuesday 31 October – Thursday 2 November, Greg, Lorraine and the bloke who coordinates the remote campuses went to Gove and a number of Aboriginal communities in Arnhem land, to assess their requirements – having recently come under the administrative umbrella of NTU.
However, due to the untimely death of an Aboriginal political leader who was the Member for Arnhem, there was a chance that the trip would be postponed until the funeral ceremonies were complete. In the end, they were given the go ahead but advised to be prepared to expect some disruption to their schedule.
They had a smooth flight from Darwin to Gove in a Fokker Friendship, landing at the Gove Airport – which incidentally comes complete with its own “abandoned, but once brand spanking new – although never used” Air Traffic Control tower. It was built in 1975, right on the eve of the decision to change to centralised air traffic control.
Anyway, they were met by a women from the Groote Eylandt College. She was driving a 4WD Troop Carrier – you know the sort with bench seats facing each other. It was fully enclosed, air-conditioned and quite comfy, except dust still managed to get in. (Greg’s duds needed several days of soaking to remove the red ochre, after this trip).
They had a tour of the college, then a 15 minute drive to Yirrkala an aboriginal community of several thousand, including Gulliruy Unupingu – from the band Yothu Yindi (whose house Greg saw) – big deal I hear you say.
They had a tour of the Top school and the Bottom school – thus named because one is at the top of a hill and the other is at the bottom. Greg described the community as an ordinary country town, but with beautiful white sandy tropical beaches.
They also visited the Laynhapuy Homelands Association, and thought this extremely interesting. The Homelands movement encourages aboriginal people to return to their traditional land to develop a community incorporating a blend of the best elements of both traditional and contemporary life in an alcohol free environment.
They returned to Gove, where they stayed the night at the Gove Resort, better known as The Last Resort. It once had the monopoly on accommodation in the town so charged exorbitant prices without feeling the need to bother with structural maintenance let alone refurbishment’s – its pretty run-down, but still charges exorbitant prices.
Although another hotel has since opened, it is always fully booked, so The Last Resort steadily gets their overflow, like Greg and Co. Nevertheless, Greg enjoyed a swim in their pool and dinner at the hotel restaurant before hitting the sack.
Greg ate a small brekkie, due to his impending light plane flight to the Island of Milingimbi – home of the recently deceased Member for Arnhem. The flight was delayed 40 minutes while the men of the island completed “men’s business” – Greg, later on the island, saw the council building where the deceased Member had worked. Its interior had been “smoked” and the exterior had been smeared with a line of red ochre which completely encircled the building – this ritual performed to enable his spirit to return to the earth.
As was pointed out to Greg – you can’t light a fire with plastic bags!
Anyway, back to the flight…They eventually took off for a 20 minute flight, in a 6 seater twin engined Beachcraft Baron, which being unpressurized and not air-conditioned was rather warm and very noisy – earplugs were supplied although not used.
They followed the coast and saw an intricate network of waterways – but no sign of animal life. They landed on a single airstrip and were met by an aboriginal man and woman who took them to the two room college, once again in a troop carrier – this type of vehicle seemed particularly popular around these parts.
They discussed various work-related issues with Cathy – the white teacher. She also told them a few of the interesting cultural aspects of living in an Aboriginal community. These included –
∙ the difficultly she faces in scheduling classes when under certain circumstances cultural tradition forbids particular people to be in the same room as each other.
∙ she, as a white woman is at night, not allowed to walk down the street in which she lives, in case she hears “men’s songs”.
∙ when a toilet block was built (without Aboriginal input) at the Milingimbi airstrip, positioning the entrances for “men” and “women” on the same side of the building, the Aborigines would not use it. They believe that it is shameful for a “brother” to see his “sister” going into the toilet – the building has since been redesigned.
After the chat with Cathy, they trekked around the community with a couple of girls who showed them one of the many water wells (this one now in dis-repair), of which they’d earlier heard a story. The story goes…Years back, Indonesian people who fished in the area, came to these shores and dug water wells. At each well, they planted Tamarind seeds knowing these plants weren’t native to the area.
When the seeds grew into trees their distinctive foliage, which is easily recognisable from a distance, pinpointed for them the precise location of fresh drinking water.
Greg thought the island supermarket fascinating, selling everything from baked beans to mountain bikes. An interesting feature of the supermarket (and perhaps a reminder of its remoteness) is that it provides paper carry-bags rather than plastic carry-bags. As was pointed out to Greg – you can’t light a fire with plastic bags!
Whilst walking about the community, Greg heard traditional men singing in the distance. Strictly speaking, he should not listen – but it was fairly hard to avoid. They eventually returned to their young pilot who had been left to wait alone at the airstrip in 35° heat for 4 hours – what a job!
Greg felt like he was in a “flying percolator”
Next destination, a brief visit to the Galiwinku community on Elcho Island, a 15 minute flight away. At least this airstrip had a sort of a depot (tin shed) for Exec Air, so the pilot had something to keep himself occupied with, while his passengers had yet another tour.
They were met by Terry, a white NTU employee, whom Greg decided, (after him telling Greg it was OK to swim in Box Jellyfish infested waters) had gone a bit loopy and needed to get back to civilisation for awhile.
On their return flight to Gove, they took a detour over the community of Dahlanbuy. Even though they circled at 1000 feet, Greg could only see a creek, an airstrip and about 6 buildings – again no sign of any animal life.
The usual flying altitude for this trip was about 6000 feet, but for 20 minutes of the return stage, they were forced to fly at altitude 1500 feet, because another plane was flying above them. Greg seriously regretted having earlier accepted the pilot’s offer of a can of (what turned out to be) warm cola.
The increased turbulence and cabin temperature from flying at such a low altitude was nauseatingly stifling. Greg felt like he was in a “flying percolator”. He was mighty glad when he finally caught sight of the large bauxite loading jetty at Gove.
He returned to Darwin in the evening, and thought, as did Lorraine, that the entire trip had been fascinating. In all the communities he visited, it was very obvious that English was their second, third or fourth language.
Well I really can’t think of anything else that’s happened that would be of interest to you. So for now, take it easy. Give our love to everyone when you see them at Ag’s on Sunday.
lots of love,
Tren & Greg
O O X X O O
M e r r y C h r i s t m a s