Voices heard but not understood

By Dr Shane Ingrey

On the morning of Sunday 29 April 1770, as Lieutenant James Cook and his landing party came close to the shoreline at Kundell (the Dharawal name that Kurnell derives from), they heard the words “warra warra wai” being projected towards them. These words were accompanied by threatening gestures with raised spears by two Gweagal warriors. These same words and gestures were witnessed again 18 years later when the First Fleet sailed into Kamay (Dharawal word for Botany Bay) and then Sydney Harbour – it is clear from the original sources that they could only assume they were being told to ‘go away’. These uncertainties were lost when variations of these words appear in several early Aboriginal word lists, where they are simply said to mean ‘go away’.

Two Natives of New Holland Advancing to Combat Sydney Parkinson - State Library of NSW

It wasn’t until recently that Aboriginal people belonging to Kamay were given the opportunity to ‘tell our story, our way’, and a totally different perspective of these famous encounters started to emerge. The Gadhungal Research Group, whose members descend from those who watched Cook sail through the heads of Kamay and are leading Dharawal language reclamation in the La Perouse Aboriginal community, decided to challenge this assumption. This marked a continuation of the work of senior women of the La Perouse Aboriginal community who had been railing against the misrepresentation of their people since the 1980s.

A detailed review of historical sources, both Aboriginal and colonial, combined with existing cultural knowledge, revealed that “warra warra wai” did not mean ‘go away’. Rather, it was a phrase entrenched in local Dharawal ontology or dreaming, which contained stories of the arrival of animals on a ‘barangga’ (big vessel also the name for island), and the return of guwinj (spirit or ghost) from the afterlife, travelling back in low-lying clouds. Looking at these events through a spiritual lens we came to understand some of the spiritual reasoning in interpreting those events. 

When we look at the phrase “warra warra wai” from a Dharawal language perspective it literally translates to “you’re (they) all dead”.  In Dharawal ‘warra’ sometimes spelt ‘wara’ means dead and when the words is repeated it is emphasising the large amount or significance.  There are Dharawal words associated with the colour white, which incorporate the language term ‘warra’, such as djilawarawara meaning white and warrabugan meaning whiting (fish).  There are also cultural linkages between the word warrawarra and objects that are associated with the colour white. This includes the iconic Australian flower the waratah (waradha in Dharawal). In a Dharawal Dreaming story, associated with Dharawal women, the waradha was originally white, and was stained red with the blood of the wonga pigeon turning the name of the flower to managuwang.

Extract showing wuraoranbala (warawaranbala) from ‘Specimen of Native Australian Languages’, Journal of the Royal Anthropological Institute of Great Britain and Ireland 1874

The misinterpretation of warrawarrawa, the verbal meaning was assumed from the geastures, is simply one of many language and cultural misinterpretations. When people from outside our community, with limited cultural knowledge, look at early colonial manuscripts such as William Dawes's , to assist in reconstructing language, culture and customs of Sydney, it seems the perpetuation of misinterpreted information continues. It is understood Dawes, who was an officer and scientist with the First Fleet, was not a trained linguist, received information from numerous sources including settlers and officers and had limited understanding of our culture and customs.

Today we use Dawes manuscript to give us language and cultural information from a certain point in time, however as this was interpreted through a western lens some of the information had been misinterpreted. When we look at it from our cultural lens we are able to interpret more accurately.  Dawes documented words like ‘Nangamai’ as ‘to dream’ however nangama in Dharawal translates to ‘he/she/it is sleeping’. He wrote that ‘Beeanga’ meant father and is used by people trying to reconstruct the ‘Sydney Language’ but in Dharawal biyangga means the most senior person (male) of a certain group of people. Our old people used biyangga to describer senior status people including Jesus Christ. These terms are used correctly within families belonging to the La Perouse Aboriginal community.

warrawarrawa - they all/you all are dead inscribed on the Commemorative Installation for the 250th Anniversary of the Endeavours’ arrival in Kamay (Botany Bay). Previous works installed promote the misunderstood interpretation of ‘go away’.

These misrepresentations are also compounded by the modern interpretations of the geographical area of ‘Sydney’. Colonial Sydney was centred around what is now the CBD area of Sydney with places such as Botany, Vaucluse and Parramatta falling outside the boundaries of Sydney. Today people read early colonial documents and interpret Sydney as we know it now, being the Greater Sydney Region.

For far too long it has been accepted that the only valid sources of Aboriginal language in Sydney are the conjectures of foreigners trying to understand a deeply complex culture. In this case, trying to interpret a language and culture that has been continually developing from deep in time within a short timeframe. We know these are valuable records and accounts of course, but they are not the only sources or perspectives we can draw on.

When we go beyond the British interpretations about the words such as warrawarrawa, biyanga and nangama; when we consider information from those that are best placed to give it, a very different and more plausible picture emerges. The viewpoints from Europeans makes much more sense when interpreted from a local Aboriginal perspective and this can only complement and enhance what was documented all those years ago. 

Note to reader. The term ‘Dharawal’ is used to describe a language, people or tribe and plant. Over time it has been documented as Turuwul, Thurruwul, Thirroul, Tharawal and Dharawal. It was described in the 1860’s as “the language of the now extinct tribe of Port Jackson and Botany Bay (from John Malone, a half-caste, whose mother was of that tribe)” Dharawal was the first known language name identified in the greater Sydney area. It is also the name of the native plant commonly known as the cabbage tree palm and is the overarching spirit ancestor or totem for all Aboriginal people and clan groups who belong to and speak Dharawal. It is always taught that your language and country go together and the people speaking it belong to that country.

Australia’s first social enterprise

By Ash Walker

I think it’s safe to say that the Sydney Fish Market is an institution. I remember going there as a child and, after navigating the interesting smells wafting around the carpark, being amazed by the array of seafood from around Australia and beyond. However, it wasn’t until I was much older that a senior man from my community asked me if I knew the origins of the Fish Market. It was only after that conversation that I was aware of the pivotal role my people, the Dharawal community based in La Perouse, played in the early stages of the colony that would become Australia.

Botany Bay Aboriginal man Mahroot owned a life time lease of land at Botany (pictured above). Mahroot leased fisherman huts and operated a successful fishing business on ‘his’ land. State Library of NSW

Let me take you back to the late 1800s. The Sydney colony was growing. It had started as a meagre settlement at the Rocks but has begun to expand west along the Paramatta River. Despite the fact that European Settlers had been steadily claiming Aboriginal owned land, relationships with the original inhabitants of Coastal Sydney at this time were broadly positive. This was demonstrated by that fact that local Aboriginal people moved freely and engaged in the economy of the colony, even spreading rumours of cannibals to the south of Botany Bay in a bid to drum up business for paid hunting trips in this region (aggressive marketing at its best!).

This situation changed in 1883 when a man by the name of George Thornton used the drowning of a young Aboriginal boy living in the Sydney Boatshed (which is now the Sydney Opera House) as the catalyst for establishing the NSW Aborigines Protection Board. The first act of this new body was to round up every Aboriginal person living in places such as the Sydney Boatshed, Elizabeth Bay, Rose Bay and numerous camps around Botany Bay and forcibly move them to La Perouse Mission on the northern head of Botany Bay. My grandmothers’ great grandparents were living on the northern head with four other families at the time.

The next step taken by the Protection Board was to provide regular rations to those confined to La Perouse Aboriginal Mission. However, the Protection Board was surprised to discover that the Aboriginal people living there rejected the rations. This prompted an investigation which revealed that, in the then fertile waters of Botany Bay, my Aboriginal community was operating a commercial fishing fleet! The business model was, once they had fulfilled their cultural responsibilities by feeding the community, excess fish was delivered to the prominent colonial Wentworth and Hill families, with whom our leaders had strong relationships. The Hill’s and the Wenthworth’s then sold these fish at a site now known as Pyrmont, thus establishing the Sydney Fish Markets we know today and providing an invaluable food source to the colony. Profits were split evenly between the Aboriginal community and their distributors, providing a meaningful income to Sydney’s first peoples. I am confident that this arrangement was one of the first, if not the first, of the many social enterprises launched within Australia since colonisation.

In my view, the next act of the Protection Board was so damaging that it is still felt by my community today. Realising that the income generated by the La Perouse Aboriginal commercial fishing fleet was greater than the combined income of the entire Protection Board, they decided to confiscate our fishing boats and nets. It was at this point that, against our will, we were forced into a cycle of welfare dependence. A cycle which we are still fighting our way out of this very day.

Leeton Ingrey, aged 7, holding a mara or mullet at Yarra Bay April 2020

Once the protectionism era ended, my community was once again permitted to engage in the Australian economy. However, we had been marginalised for so long that we were unable to afford commercial fishing licenses. We were reduced from market leaders in the fishing industry to criminals under government fishing laws should our catch exceed “legal” limits. Thankfully, NSW Fisheries now permits us to engage in cultural fishing which has meant that our people can haul seasonal mullet and once again fulfil our cultural obligations by distributing the catch to our community. However, Gamay is now overfished and overrun by industry, meaning that any opportunity to use our fishing skills to drag ourselves out of poverty has passed.

The thing that struck me most about this story was its contrast with the perceived relationship between Aboriginal people and welfare. As we had for thousands of years, my people adapted as the world shifted around them. We identified the need to earn an income and met that need any way we could. Significantly, it was the partnership with the Hill’s and Wentworth’s, free of paternalism, which allowed us to forge a path in this new world. It is my view that we must reach a level of economic independence before we are truly in control of our own future. Furthermore, our expulsion from the economy during the protectionism era means that, if we are going to reach this goal in my lifetime, it will be alongside prominent partners in modern Australia. It is my hope that together, we will be able to build a better world for my people, not by carving a new place in modern society, but by reclaiming our past position as a valued part of the Australian economy.

Gamay Rangers and community members pulling in a fishing net at Yarra Bay April 2020

Aboriginal history told by Aboriginal people

By Noeleen Timbery

As we draw closer to the 250th anniversary of the Endeavours’ arrival into Kamay (Botany Bay), there has been a shift towards a new perspective on this historically significant event. The perspective I am referring to is the view from the shore. This view covers the significance of the arrival and departure of Cook, both in itself and as a precursor to colonisation, to the Aboriginal people who witnessed these events. Acknowledging this view from the shore is important as a matter of historical accuracy as well as a long overdue recognition of the descendants of this people who, as you would have seen from previous editions of Stories from the Shore¸ continue to live and work on their traditional country of Coastal Sydney. 

Two Natives of New Holland Advancing to Combat Sydney Parkinson - State Library of NSW

There are many stories within the Aboriginal community of La Perouse, the only Aboriginal community with a traditional connection to Coastal Sydney, of the landing of Cook. Stories have been passed down through family stories retelling the events of 29 April 1770 and the days that followed. However the retelling of this history, in an environment heavily impacted on by colonisation requires careful and informed considerations.

The retelling of Aboriginal history in the colonial setting has been prominently told by non-Aboriginal academics relying on colonial records. Most of this work is not validated against cultural information and does not recognise the limitations of the colonial records. The most substantial limitation is that most colonial records were recorded by the coloniser through a Western lens. This has resulted in non-Aboriginal academics making assumptions which are published without disclaimers and then become accepted as “truth”. 

These mistruths may seem trivial in isolation and many academics treat them as such, often moving onto a new topic which interests them. However, for us, there is much more at stake. Misguided assumptions on the behaviours, movement and identity of Aboriginal people at the time of Cook’s arrival can have long-lasting effects on their descendants to this day. In addition, attempts by Aboriginal people to correct mistruths based on western assumptions are often hampered by the absence of an academic pedigree or the dismissal of oral histories as inaccurate. 

This issue reared its head in May 2017. In my capacity as Deputy Chairperson of the La Perouse Local Aboriginal Land Council, which is the peak representative body for Aboriginal people with a cultural connection to Coastal Sydney, I was invited to attend a meeting at the British Museum. The purpose of this meeting was to discuss the spears and shield which were alleged to have been collected by Cook’s expedition after they fired upon the Aboriginal men who challenged them on the shores of Botany Bay. 

Uncle Rod Mason, Senior Leader of the Gweagal Clan teaching children how to make a garrara or fishing spear at Kurnell 2019

At the same time, there has been a highly publicised campaign for the recently termed “Gweagal Shield” to be returned to the rightful owners. A descendant of an Aboriginal man Cooman led this campaign and has received widespread support from all levels of society with some notable exclusions. These exclusions were the Gweagal Clan themselves and those with a continuous connection to Coastal Sydney based at La Perouse. These important stakeholders do not endorse this campaign and to this day have never been consulted in a meaningful way. It should also be noted that this campaign is being run from a far south coast town more than 350km from Kurnell. 

The obvious question is, how did a campaign built on such shaky foundations receive so much support? The answer is twofold.

Firstly, there was the promotion of a slight mistruth as described earlier in this article. In 2006 the State Library of NSW held an exhibition Eora Mapping Aboriginal Sydney 1770-1850 promoting the events that took place on 29 April 1770 by stating “the Aboriginal man at right, armed with a shield, a woomera (spear thrower) and a fishing spear, might be Cooman or Goomung, one of two Gweagal who opposed Cook’s musket fire at Botany Bay”. A closer look into underlying sources shows that the assumption that it might have been Cooman that met Cook that day is nothing more than an assumption at best, with a number of more feasible candidates present within the oral histories kept by Aboriginal families belonging to the area. In addition, the caption for the exhibition, despite using the term “might be”, has become the “truth” in some circles.

In addition, no one who decided to throw their support behind the campaign bothered to check whether the Gweagal Clan or any other Aboriginal person with a continuous connection to Botany Bay agreed with this approach. That isn’t to say that they don’t want the objects stolen from their ancestors back on Gweagal country. However, the fact of the matter is that public protests demanding the return of objects held by the British Museum is not always the best approach (as seen by exchanges with Egyptian and Greek governments). There was also a notable lack of queries as to why this campaign was led by those residing on the far south coast as opposed to senior Gweagal people who have maintained a continuous connection to Coastal Sydney.

In summary, this misinformed caption and willingness to overlook knowledgeable Aboriginal people and their connection to country is the basis of the Gweagal shield campaign.

The next question is, how can we make sure this kind of situation doesn’t arise in the future? In my view, the answer is simple. Approach our history with an inquisitive and open mind. Inquire as to whether historical accounts have been warped by a colonial lens and be open to Aboriginal histories as reliable sources which can help complete our shared history. These rich sources are present in every Aboriginal community with a connection to the country on which they stand. All you really need to do is ask and then, most importantly, listen.

Behind every strong woman

By Chris Ingrey

I have often heard the saying “behind every strong man, is an even stronger woman”. In my experience with my community and the story of our ancestors, I often think “behind every strong woman, is an even stronger woman".

As an Aboriginal man greatly involved in my community at La Perouse in Sydney, I am often asked by government representatives and others familiar with La Perouse’s story “how did La Perouse Aboriginal community make the change?” 

The question relates to the La Perouse’s effective implementation of its own empowerment and development agendas. In short, we took control of our own destiny through effective leadership and governance. 

How did we do it? Strong women.

The majority of people and families who construct the La Perouse Aboriginal community are descendants of strong and resilient women of Coastal Sydney. This can be demonstrated by the leading role our senior women have played in our community over the years.

Old Queen Gooseberry Wife of Bungaree - South Australia Museum

In the early 1800’s Queen Gooseberry was described as the leader of the Sydney and Botany Tribe. Mahroot’s wife, whose name was never recorded, often ran his fishing business and property interests when he would visit the Illawarra. Birrayung, later known as Biddy Giles, ran tours of Aboriginal sites or guided hunting and fishing groups.

In the late 1800’s and early 1900’s, anthropologists, journalists and linguists would often visit Botany Bay to record language and familial information from women such as Mrs Judson, Ellen Anderson, Kate Saunders (nee Sims), Queen Emma Timbery and others. These women recognised the importance of recording their knowledge as the world rapidly changed around them.

Throughout the 1930’s when Sydney was expanding, the then Randwick Municipal Council and the Aborigines Protection Board made three attempts to move people from La Perouse to places such as Kurnell, Wollongong and South West Sydney. The stories within the community and records show that “protests” by women and their families forced the Government to abandon their attempts.

Aboriginal people’s rights were fought for and protected by the likes of Mrs Muriel Stewart of La Perouse, the first Aboriginal person to be appointed a Justice of the Peace, and Mrs Linda Longbottom of La Perouse, who was elected to the lobby group known as the NSW Aboriginal Land Council to introduce land rights in NSW.

By mid 1980s, women of the La Perouse Aboriginal community began to express ‘concern and dismay at the continued misrepresentation of their ancestors’ lives in written history’. In order to combat this issue, they completed research and writing courses to skill and empower themselves to tell their stories from their own perspective. During the same time, these women began a community run childcare centre to ensure parents could work and our children had an effective start to their early learning. 

This culture of strong female leadership continues to this day.

Marcia Ella-Duncan and Carrine Liddell meeting with former Prime Minister Malcolm Turnbull at La Perouse.

As the Chief Executive of La Perouse Local Aboriginal Land Council, I have had the pleasure of working with two truly impressive Chairpersons in Marcia Ella-Duncan and Noelene Timbery, who are descendants of Kate Saunders and Queen Emma Timbery respectively. The majority of the elected Boards of the Council over the past 13 years have been controlled by Aboriginal women of La Perouse.  A Board member of the Council, Carrine Liddell (a descendant of Queen Emma), was the driving force behind the establishment of the La Perouse Youth Haven and the leadership program that is mentoring the next generation of leaders.

I could continue to recite past and current female leadership in our community, but I believe that it is sufficient to conclude by saying that without the strength, resilience and drive of our women, our community would not be what it is today.

Adaptation, not assimilation

By Alan Daly

The 250th anniversary of the arrival of Cook is a difficult time for my people for several reasons. Most obviously, it draws up the past trauma of colonisation experienced by our ancestors, which of course, is still felt by my community today. It also puts us at the centre of the ever-growing decolonisation movement, where we are wedged between those wishing to honour our nation’s past and those seeking to remove colonial oppressors from places of honour. Despite these difficult circumstances, I am of the firm view that this is a rare opportunity for my people, the Dharawal people belonging to Coastal Sydney, to tell our story.

This opportunity to tell our story has a personal significance for me. My grandfather remembers being taught his language by his mother Kathleen Davison (nee Callaghan). However, after being heard teaching Dharawal by a non-Aboriginal neighbour the police were notified. Their immediate response was to threaten my great-grandmother with the removal of her children should this education continue. This is one of many examples of the voice of our people being silenced.

Uncle Leslie Davison (Alan’s grandfather) was a young child when his mother was threatened by the police for teaching her sons Dharawal

For too long we have looked on from the sidelines, while our story has been told by non-Indigenous people indoctrinated in colonial mythology and Indigenous people from other areas seeking to take advantage of the rapidly growing market for Indigenous culture. We need to tell our story, to both ensure that the story of Australia’s foundation is told in its entirety and, most importantly, share the richness and resilience of our culture which has survived in Coastal Sydney against all odds.

One such example of our rich culture is the Gamay Dancers. This is a group of young men descended from the original inhabitants of coastal Sydney who perform traditional dances handed down by generations before. The upcoming anniversary draws attention to one dance in particular. A dance which, with the use of white canvas suspended between sticks, describes the arrival of Cook. I believe the most striking aspect of this traditional dance to be that it demonstrates that, against popular belief, our culture did not die or begin to die once the British set foot on Australian soil. Rather it shows that our culture was and is continually developing and evolving as it has for thousands of years.

Another example of this evolution is the use of Dharawal language in my community today. Anyone who has spent any time around La Perouse will notice Aboriginal people from this area will use the word “walang” for money. Many people are perplexed by the concept of having a word in Aboriginal language for a colonial concept. However, the word “walang” is derived from the Dharawal word “walar” meaning head. Our old people, having seen the heads of monarchs on British currency, coined the new term in the early 1800s (no pun intended). I understand that the word for head is often stated to be “gubbarah”. However, this is yet another misinterpretation attributed to Dawes and those who rely on his word list, as “gubbarah” actually means skull. The fact that the word “walang” was created after colonisation in response to a changing world, and is still used in our community today, demonstrates the adaptiveness and resilience of our culture.

Gamay Dancers perform at Sydney Airport’s 100 Year Gala 2019

These examples of traditional dance and language are just two examples of the many ways traditional Aboriginal culture has evolved since the arrival of Cook. It also important to recognise that this is one of many significant events, such as ice ages and rising sea levels, which have shaped our culture over thousands of years as we adapted to the world around us. I hope that, after reading the Stories from the Shore series, you may come to realise that Aboriginal culture is not something that is frozen in time at the point British boots touched our soil, or something which can only be found in remote parts of Australia. It is a living, breathing and evolving thing, and, if you look hard enough, you might find it alive and well in your own backyard.

Note to reader. The term ‘Dharawal’ is used to describe a language, people or tribe and plant. Over time it has been documented as Turuwul, Thurruwul, Thirroul, Tharawal and Dharawal. It was described in the 1860’s as “the language of the now extinct tribe of Port Jackson and Botany Bay (from John Malone, a half-caste, whose mother was of that tribe)” Dharawal was the first known language name identified in the greater Sydney area. It is also the name of the native plant commonly known as the cabbage tree palm and is the overarching spirit ancestor or totem for all Aboriginal people and clan groups who belong to and speak Dharawal. It is always taught that our language and country go together and the people speaking it belong to that country.