One morning recently, on my regular early walk, my interest was caught by the sight of a didgeridoo which was leaning against the railing at the end of the pier. Its owner was sitting nearby, talking with some fishermen, while enjoying the view out over the Bay. Once again, this was an unexpected encounter and it prompted me to do some research about the history of this wind instrument, which is now popular all over the world.
When I googled the word “didgeridoo” I immediately found a multitude of advertisements for music festivals here in Australia, as well as in many other countries. I even found a “Worldwide Didgeridoo Festivals Guide”.
With regard to the history of this instrument, evidence from rock paintings in Arnhem Land indicates that didgeridoos have been present as musical instruments in Australia for more than 1000 years. The traditional ones were, and still are, made from eucalyptus (hardwood) trees, but most of the ones available from souvenir shops today are made from a wide variety of other materials.
The fact that digeridoos have been present as musical instruments in Australia for so long aroused my curiosity about the people who had played them over such a long timespan. Who were they and how did they live? I was eager to learn more about their history.
By accessing a variety of sources, including publications available from the Sandgate Historical Society and Museum, the “Keep Sandgate Beautiful Association”, and the website turrbal.com.au, I was able to find sufficient material to write a simple blog post (not an academic research paper!) which hopefully paints a picture of how the Aboriginal people here in Sandgate lived and thrived for centuries before the arrival of the British.
Who were they?
The people who lived here were known as the Turrbal people, a tribe with its own language, living in a well-ordered society with its own customary laws. They referred to this area as “Warra”, which translates as “an expanse of water”. I think that they would have been happy to live here, a place with an abundant supply of food and water. I imagine the Turrbal tribe as being a group of families, strongly linked and living in tune with their environment. People who cared for their children and who respected their elders.
This tribe had access to the freshwater lagoons in Sandgate and to the waterholes close by and they were able to gather wetland grass-like plants and water ferns and to catch eel and turtles. There were rivers and creeks nearby with fish, mud crabs and other crustaceans. I imagine them, particularly the young children, loving to explore the seaside, and when the mullet or other fish were plentiful, I can imagine their fathers and uncles and brothers bringing home just enough fish to feed their families.
There would also have been plenty of wildlife all around them to provide a regular supply of food when needed. This would have included kangaroos, wallabies, bandicoots, possums, ducks, bats, goannas and carpet pythons. I’ve read that the Turrbal people loved to catch and eat quail, which the women and children chased out of the grass for the men to kill with boomerangs. Another favourite was the Witchetty grub, the larvae of beetles.
There was interaction with other surrounding tribes, such as with the Wakka Wakka and the Yagera to the west, the Gabi Gabi to the north and the Yugambeh to the south. Moreton Island had its own tribe, the Ngugi (refer post 41). These tribes used well-defined tracks to move around, with Sandgate Road being one of their original tracks. Campsites were established near popular fishing places and that is where they gathered for their tribal ceremonies.
Also, they all made use of the plants around them to make their own medicines. For example, they used the juices of the river lilies and certain ferns to treat stings and itches and they crushed leaves of the soap bush plant to be used as a disinfectant and for cleansing. They were also used to relieve pain and, and even to stun fish.
Aboriginal people have probably lived in this area for thousands of years. The Glasshouse Mountains, which are visible from here, were part of their Dreamtime beliefs. Stories of their ancestors were passed down in songs and paintings. I believe that they represented a rich, vibrant and enduring society, where young people respected their elders, who taught them the traditional laws and customs, which had developed over thousands of years.
What happened to them?
An awful lot (with the emphasis on both words!) has been written about the arrival of the British, which happened only 225 years ago. Matthew Flinders arrived in the Bay in 1799 and convicts and settlers followed soon thereafter, introducing diseases for which the Turrbal people had no immunity. The reality is that whole communities died prematurely through the spread of disease and the availability of alcohol, both of which were introduced by the new arrivals. Records show that there were massacres, particularly in the 1860s, and that eventually the few remaining Turrbal people were rounded up and transferred to reserves (Cherbourg and Taroom).
The Survivors
Respected Aboriginal Elder, Maroochy Barambah, tells us that the Turrbal people “are not all dead and gone”. She attributes the survival of those still living to her great, great, great grandmother, Kulkarawa, who escaped to the Sunshine Coast.
Maroochy was born on Cherbourg Aboriginal Reserve in South East Queensland and is the Songwoman of the Turrbal Tribe. As a mezzo-soprano singer, she received many awards, both in Australia and overseas and she became famous for her role, both in the 1989 Sydney Metropolitan Opera production of Black River, and in its film adaptation which was awarded the Grand-Prix, Opera Screen at Opera Bastille, Paris. She has appeared in musicals, television, opera and many other forums.
You can find much more information on the website “turrbal.com.au”. There may now be less than 50 surviving members of the Turrbal tribe but their language, documented in the 1850s, is said to still be intact today. Some of the descendants and associates of Kulkarawa are now highly qualified professionals, artists and consultants, whose cultural upbringing enables them to continue to pass on the stories of their ancestors to us all.
When I stand at the end of the Shorncliffe Pier, I can look straight ahead and see nothing but an expanse of water and Moreton Island in the far distance, a scene which has not changed for many centuries. The reality is, however, that there have been huge upheavals in the past few hundred years, decimating the people who used to live here. This leaves me, now that I have learned a little more, with respectful feelings for the survivors who continue to tell us their stories.
O.P.
P.S. Next Sunday’s post will be about Royal Coaches and an Australian master craftsman.