Early morning, drifting along Manwoneer (Bathurst Channel), the calm a welcome reprieve after a lumpy trip overnight from Researche Bay. The surrounding hills emerge into the day, undulating wedges of blackest blue through to hints of lilac.
I think of the palawa – draw a line in the landscape that holds their creation story.
I think of the Ninine and Needwonnee clans – draw a line in the landscape where they lived for tens of thousands of years.
I think of Towterrer and Wongenneep, the few whose names we know – draw a line in the landscape from which they were removed.
I think of their daughter Mathinna – draw a line in the landscape where she should have lived her life, with a family of her own.
Instead Mathinna became an orphan, a Governor’s wife’s object of curiosity and an outcast in her short and tragic life.
Over 1000 generations of the South-West nation people knew these hills. Just one generation into colonial occupation all were gone. I draw the depth of their presence back into the landscape as a reminder that non-indigenous occupation is just a breath by comparison.
