Tag: Adventure Beckons

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On aborigine country

The whole continent of Australia was first populated by the Aborigines. It is likely that a foreigner will see the Australian Aborigines as a homogenic group. This is wrong. The homogeneity amongst the Aborigines extends as far as the skin colour and physical features. Away from this, they are as different as an Igbo man is from a Kanuri or Zulu man. The language and culture are different from one another. To understand Indigenous Australia Aborigines,  one needs to look at Australia from the structure in place in sub-Saharan Africa. The Zulus, Asantes, Songhai,  Igbos, Kikuyus,  Yaos and Hutus are all Africans yet they are different nations. In a similar manner, the Lurija, Anangu, Goorie, Nunga, Murrie, Arrernte are all Aborigines but different nations.  Aborigines prefer the use of the word country than nation. Had Africa not been balkanised, the set-up will most likely be similar to that of present day indigenous Australia.

Our plan today is to cover the 610kms from South Hedland to Broome, that is almost the same distance from Mombasa to Nakuru, passing through Nairobi. However, before we embark on this trip, we have come to the South Hedland Library to process some documents that are urgently needed back in Perth. Here in South Hedland, we are on Kariyarra country. This fact is visibly displayed by the bronze plaque on the wall of the library acknowledging the Kariyarra people as the traditional custodians of the land and paying respect to their Elders, past and present.

The Kariyarra country is bound by Ngarla country to the north, Nyamal to the east and Ngarluma to the southwest. Hearing these names, it was as if I was back in the History of West Africa class being taught about the ethnic nationalities that preceded the modern African states. In 2018, following a 20 year court battle, the Kariyarra people were adjudged as holding exclusive and non-exclusive native title rights and interests over approximately 17,354 square kilometres of land and sea in the Pilbara region, including the town of Port Hedland. With this judgement, all the non-Kariyarra occupiers of land in this area are now tenants of the Kariyarra people as represented by the Kariyarra Aboriginal Corporation. In essence, for any use of land in this area, consent and payment of rent to the Kariyarra Aboriginal Corporation must be negotiated.

With about 25% of all royalties collected by the state being returned to the countries through the Western Australia royalties for region programme, these are supposedly rich people.
Add to this, the fund coming to the Aborigine Corporation from the signing of Native Title Agreements with individual mining companies. In oil industry parlance, this is what is referred to as the cost of the social license to operate. Money from the exploitation of the Pilbara resources is flowing back, in some ways, to the Kariyarra people. It will not be far-fetched to conclude that this may be a key reason why the Kariyarra and other Aborigine nationalities are not proportionally represented in the workforce. Why would one work if there is a guaranteed share of the national cake assignable to him?

But, we need to get back to the library experience.  The building has been standing here since 1979 to aid educational inclusiveness of the people of this area. It is a small bungalow building, painted in light blue colour and located close to the main shopping mall in South Hedland. We had arrived well before the opening time of the library and had to wait a while, spending the period to observe the goings on in around us.  Conspicuously posted on the outer walls of the library was a notice that says “No cash kept on premises”. The burglary proofs, something of an aberration in major Australian cities, are here. The library doors and windows are secured with welded iron barricades and we were left wondering who will be interested in stealing books from a library. We watched a couple of first nation people passed by and noticed not a few walking bare footed. It is a way through which they maintain great connection to the land. Mother earth is very important in indigenous culture.

South Hedland Library

At the time posted, we approached the door and watched as the young lady inside exerted quite some efforts in opening the locks and barricades that protect the entrance door. Inside, the library is modestly equipped with desktop computers,  books, video CDs and more important, free Wi-Fi. We also saw that school bags are available for rent, something that felt strange to us. For the about the one hour period we spent here, the only folks that came in was a Caucasian woman and her daughter.  No Kariyarra native was here for the duration of our stay but we could see them from the library windows as they move about, walking mainly toward the shopping mall.

The long lonely road to Broome

We also noticed that there is an unusual high presence of police corps everywhere we have been in this area. This first occurred to us yesterday while at the shopping mall and we are now seeing them around the library, this early morning. The same will be seen at the gas station, later, as we fill up with gas for our long trip to Broome. It soon dawned on us that the further north we traveled, the more the intense the policing of these areas appear to be. Could this have to do with the crossing of the 26 degrees parallel as mentioned earlier?

Waking up this morning, I need to seek out medical help for my swollen gums. The tooth ache has become unbearable and I hardly slept the previous night. Using the search results from Google, I called some medical practices to book an appointment. None was ready to book me in and I was advised to go to the emergency ward of the nearest hospital. The only practise that was ready to see me requested that I pay twice the normal charge for consultation.  I weighed my options and told my wife that we should brave the odds and go to Broome.  Help should surely be available there.

Crossing the Great Sandy Desert in a motor vehicle would be on the Great Northern Highway, either be northwards from Port Hedland or westward from the Kimberley.  We are doing so from the former. As we left Port Hedland, we drove on bridges across a few river beds, all with the same dryness. The wideness of the river beds inform that these are actually big rivers in the wet season when they are flowing though currently no single drop of water could be seen anywhere on them. Once we drove past the Pardoo Roadhouse, the river channels disappear completely and we were now at the western extremity of the desert. On this segment of the trip, the Great Northern Highway is closely hugging the coast. Though we could not see the ocean which lies to our left, at no point on this road were we further than a few kilometers from it. Which begs the question, why is this area visibly dry that it is a desert? Again, the teaching of my geography teacher at Lagelu Grammar School came handy. Though I must have stolen a few looks at the very beautiful NYSC tutor that was assigned to our class, I could still hear her voice as she taught about relief or orographic rainfall. She had taught us that areas close to the coast with no mountain ridge may experience drought.  She had used the Namibian desert as an example and here are voice lingers on in my ear, as I observe the lack of water in the Great Sandy Desert.

The scenery was devoid of mountain ranges, everywhere we looked was just plain land covered with shrubs, no thick vegetation of any kind. In very few places, we could notice the pastoral leases with their cattle and wondered where the water for the livestock is from. Acess to water and knowing the location of wells in this area was important to the early settlers, a knowledge that was the exclusive preserve of the Aborigine who had tendered this land for centuries before the advent of the white fellas. The knowledge had been passed down from one generation to another but is now documented for all in the Hema Maps, a good tool for all 4WD adventurists like us. Looking at our Hema map, these wells and bores are located not very far from the Great Northern Highway and one can only conclude that the men that built the road were well influenced by these bores in choosing the exact path it follows. Today, the commuter in motorised vehicles does not need to bother about water, these can be gotten at the roadhouses.

At this point, we had handed over the Explorer to its cruise control function, there is no reason to be pressing and de-pressing the accelerator and brake. The road is lonely and for major stretches of the road we were the sole traveller, each experience being punctuated by a road train or another sole traveller returning from Broome. Traffic is very light and on this long stretch of the highway, the major risk to drivers is maintaining concentration. It is no gainsaying that vehicles on this road have to be in the most road worthy condition, any breakdown will be very costly both in terms of time and money.

As we passed by the much famed Eighty Mile Beach on our left, the road sign announces that we were now on the Nyangumarta-Karajarri country lands. We chucked a little in pronouncing the name, it’s probably the longest word we have come across on this trip. After what seemed an eternity, we arrived at the Roebuck Roadhouse, situated at the turning off to Broome Road, while the road continues its way to the Northern Territory. It has been one long drive to get here and immediately we noticed a change in the traffic situation, this stretch of road has a fair bit of traffic. The vegetation is also different with tall trees on each side of the road, a great contrast to what we had noticed on the highway previously.

The sunset on the Broome road was spectacular. The cloud formation in the horizon, hiding the sunset behind them, created a unique vista too beautiful to describe. It was like a fire burning in the sky. Saf could not resist this and she pulled the Explorer to a stop to take some amazing pictures of the sunset. The first impression of a visitor to Broome is that this is an old town. The well set-back houses, the grid-like streets  dotted with trees here and there and intersecting at roundabouts all add to this impression. There is not much modernity to it, no new buildings are rising up. No apartment complexes being developed and in fact there was not a single construction crane here.

After settling in to our room, we remembered that we were hungry and headed straight to the restaurant. We were given seats next to two odd fellows. One very stocky white fellow whose visible skin areas were completely covered with tattoos. Even the forehead was not spared. Added to this, he was sporting a long goatee beard running down his chin. The aura he exudes was one that says clearly “do not mess with me”. The other was a little bit lanky, tall and walked with a swagger. His mien was that of someone that wouldn’t blink an eyelid in skinning someone.  Surprisingly, they were not together. Our tattooed man was busy chatting away with another man while the lanky guy sat alone, drowning his alcohol. I was unsettled because of their presence yet they remain unbothered, probably unaware of my existence in that space.

Dinner was served and it looked sumptuous but my aching tooth told my brain in clear words “you can admire the food with your eyes but you are not savouring any part of it”. I made attempt to bite a slice off the pizza and screamed out from pain. Saf was empathic but continued to do justice to the meal. The pain has become unbearable and I can’t wait till morning to get a relief. Saf came up with a home remedy that has to be made from a mixture of alcohol, ginger and pepper.  We took a drive to the liquor store and purchased a bottle of gin, the active ingredient for this mixture and came back to prepare the concoction. Sleeping tonight would be an uphill task.

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The river and the ocean

Kalbarri, sits at the mouth of the Murchison River, the very point where it flows into the Indian Ocean. When the explorer Grey landed here, unplanned, he wrote that this was a well watered and populated country.  It goes without mention that he was talking about the first nation people. We had wandered a little around the town yesterday for dinner and from what we could see, the Nanda people are no longer here in numbers, Kalbarri has become a caucasian city, like many others in Australia.

Getting out of our hotel this morning, we made our way to Chinaman’s Beach. Why it is called Chinaman’s is unknown to me but your guess is as good as mine. A previous trip to Broome had informed me of the early Chinese presence on the Western Australia coast hence a beach in Kalbarri noting this may not be out of place. This beach is the only place where fishing Is not allowed on the entire stretch of the Murchison River. It is also the take-off of many boat tours on the river and we could see some visitors being taken aboard a boat about to commence on one of such tours.

Of course, there also stood here a WWII Memorial. As I had mentioned somewhere earlier, hardly is there any Australian town without one. We will remember them, it proudly says. These memorials foster a sense of unity and belonginess in the Aussies, a shared memory of the past and an inhibition to the present from participating in senseless wars. Yet, Australia has contributed its men to every war in recent history. They were there in Iraq, they are still there in Afghanistan. There are some good ones, the involvement in East Timor is one, helping to bring peace to that country.

We left the beach area and joined the Grey Road, leading out of town. It was the same road that we had followed the previous day into Kalbarri. We were later to learn, at Red Buff, that the road was named after Captain George Grey who, along with his crew, were exploring the Carnavon in 1839 when one of their boats got destroyed in a cyclone and they had to row the remaining two for 56hours to reach Kalbarri. It was from here they then undertook the arduous walk of more than 500km back to Perth. It was said that they were barely recognisable when they finally arrived there.

The close to see attractions all have to do with observing the mighty sculpting works of the Indian Oceans over the years. The surrounding hills bear this testimony. We started at the Red Bluff Lookout, here we could look down at the raging ocean below and not far from where we stood, we could see the mixing of the waters, the waters of the Murchison and those of the ocean. There was a little sandy bar formed where these waters meet. A group of Asian tourists ahead of us had noted some whales in the distance and drew our attention to the point in the ocean where there was a ripple and soon, we could see the faint image of something breaking the waters. I honestly could not make out the shape of a whale but there was truly something in the water. Looking around us, the hill slopes gently down to meet the ocean, as we walk back to the car park and one has to resist the temptation not to follow this slope down to the ocean. The car park had only very few vehicles as at the time we arrived but as we depart, there was barely any parking space left.

We made our way to the  Natural Bridge and Castle Cove, which were a few kilometres from Red Buff. A Natural Bridge is a structure left behind when the coastline yields to the force of the ocean which has carved a visible space underneath the land. They abound everywhere on the Australian continent and we have come across them in Albany in WA and seen the famed London Bridge at Peterborough in Victoria. Getting here took a short walk from the park and is assessable by wheelchairs as well. Close by is the Castle Cove, a recess in the coastal landscape. In the middle of this stood the island rock, a solid piece of the land, all around which the other lands have yielded to the waves. Looking down at the cove and the rock, I was awed at the intermix of stubbornness and persistence. The waves are persistent in their continued bashing of the rock and the surrounding coast while the island rock stubbornly refuses to yield to the calamity that has befallen others of its ilk. One doesn’t need to be a sooth-sayer to know that it is just a matter of time, the ocean will eventually have its way. The moral of this? Persistence will overcome all obstacles with time.

Our plan was to visit the famed Kalbarri National Park and see Nature’s Window. The iconic pictures taken from this land formation appears in nearly all brochure used to market tourism to all to visit WA and it is an important stop on our journey. More so, we have been told that at the same park, a new exhibit has just been recently opened, the Skywalk. The debate was whether to go now or defer same to the next day and visit as we make our way out of Kalbarri. Giving the distance to be covered, about 50kms, we resolved to do so the next day.

We had also been encouraged to visit the Fisherman’s Wharf and this was what we did next.  As we returned back to Kalbarri, there is a little curve in the road that offers a good view of the city, the ocean and the river. We stopped here and met an older couple seated on the bench, observing the happenstance all around. They provided a great backdrop to the scenery which was one of extreme peace and calmness until one peeps downward and see the ferocious ocean at work.

Arriving at the Wharf, a little further out of the centre of the city, a large fishing boat was moored to the entire breadth of the jetty and the immediate surrounding has different smaller boats dotting the river side. A couple was in the process of getting their jet ski on the river while we had right next to our car an older man seated in his minivan, all windows wound up and engrossed in the book he was reading.

As we made for the jetty, the man came out of his car and started walking behind us, we felt that strange and told each other to be careful here. Ahead at the jetty was a family of two little kid and their father engaged in rod fishing. Caught anything yet, I asked? Yap and we were shown their catch, enough for a family dinner that night. At that point the old man reached into the river to examine his lines and it was then it dawned on us that he was fishing too. We loved his laissez faire approach to fishing. Not satisfied with having caught nothing, we watched him make his way back to his vehicle.

Fishing on the Murchison River is a favourite past time of the local and all visitors are encouraged to do so. I have my fishing rod in the boot of my car but wasn’t tempted to fish because it requires time, one we don’t have during this short stay in the town. If one is not into fishing, the fisherman’s wharf offer not much to the visitor. I had also thought that we would have been able to buy off some of the daily catch from fishermen at the area, I was wrong.

We were famished and headed back towards the town centre where we had seen some people having breakfast earlier. The whole town of Kalbarri is really a small one of which the Grey road is the major link and runs next to the river and sea. On the other side of the road lies all the vacation apartments and accommodation. The town is much loved because of its unique position next to the ocean, the river and the national park. It is not a trading outpost nor a commercial centre. Everything here is designed to cater for the tourists, especially the Grey Nomads.

During the course of the day, we came across a rather strange looking bike with a small German flag at its rear. We took some time in looking at it and got to speak with the owner. He goes by the moniker, paddyroundtheworld. He is a German national travelling around the world, with his dog, on a push bike. He has an interesting story to tell of his sojourn so far within Australia and his plan to cross into Asia and continue his trip. A little later, it was sunset and there was no better place to watch this than the Chinamans Beach. It was just spectacular and an opportunity to appreciate the many little wonders of our planet. The sun displaying a yellowish hue on the distant waters of the ocean as it goes down was beautiful. Many other vacationers were congregated here and just as the sun went down, we started feeling a little chilly and made for the warm comfort of the Explorer.

The Kalbarri Motel was a short distance from the Chinaman’s Beach and it boast a crowd of lively people which attracted us there for dinner. The environment was not opulent but with the coming and going of countless tourists from Kalbarri, it has become the place to be seen in the little town. We felt it would also have the best meal in town but we were soon proved wrong. Being African, we relish our food to be “well done” and it turned out that to the chef at the motel, well done is the same thing as “burnt”! Everywhere we looked, we were the only folks of our skin colour and it was most probable that our request was one out of the ordinary and the Chef wasn’t attuned to how to meet it.

At an ensuing discussion with a couple from Mandurah at the motel during dinner, we discussed Covid19 and the continued closure of the West Australian borders to other states of the commonwealth. They offered an interesting perspective, one that supports that the border should be kept closed for as long as possible. In fact, they are supporters for the independence of Western Australia, something that not a few people have been silently clamouring for especially during the GST crises of last year. The argument is that Western Australia, through its mining resource and others contribute a more than disproportionate sum to the GST bucket and doesn’t receive much back from the commonwealth. In addition, being remote from the other capitals, its way of life is much different and residents would want it that way, isolated and completely independent in determining its future.

The discussion left me to conclude that no matter the attempt to hide it, humanity is individualistic, the I before others syndrome. It reminds me of the different clamour in the Nigerian nation for an Oduduwa Republic or the on and off campaign for Biafra. While Australians have a patriotic zeal about the land and are very proud of what the nation has accomplished despite its small population size, there are still lines of divisions within. The Territorians do not feel they are being fairly treated by the nation and do clamour to become a state when it suits them. However, at the last referendum, the majority voted against the idea. The voting influenced majorly by the offer on the table for statehood not one against the very idea of becoming one. Western Australians do not feel much loved by others as well. In fact, many Australians from other states find a trip to WA akin to travelling to other countries, a different lifestyle. Prior to Covid, quarantine requirements have been in place regarding carrying fruit items across state borders, now Covid extends this to humanity. One nation, different people but yet still shares a lot of affinity to the flag.