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City through original eyes

By Marc Llewellyn

12 January 2006 - THE Deerubbun, a former navy torpedo recovery vessel, made quite an impression as it pulled up to the dock near the Opera House concourse with speakers blaring out a recording of clap sticks and didgeridoos.

Better known for its starring roles in New Year's Eve and Australia Day celebrations on Sydney Harbour, the ochre-coloured Deerubbun has recently revolutionised the multi-million-dollar Sydney cruise industry by offering an Aboriginal perspective of our famous waterway.

The boat is owned by the Tribal Warrior Association, an Aboriginal operated non-profit organisation that aims to provide maritime training programs for Aboriginal youths.

As I joined a handful of foreign tourists waiting on the jetty, a couple of these students were receiving instructions on how to tie up.

We made our way across the gangplank and up some stairs to a bamboo-framed sightseeing deck behind the captain's bridge.

As we cast off, our guide pointed back towards the tower blocks fringeing Circular Quay.

It was known as Warrung by the Cadigal people who once occupied the southern side of Sydney Harbour, he told us. It meant "scars on the back" – a place where cuts were made into the skin of young males to prove their manhood.

We learnt about Bennelong, the captured Aborigine who once lived on the point where the Opera House now stands, and his wife Barangaroo, who opposed her husband's conciliatory efforts with the Europeans. The new foreshore development at East Darling Harbour, once dubbed "the Hungry Mile", was recently named in her honour.

Near Bennelong Point there was once a huge shell midden, which had grown over thousands of years thanks to innumerable celebrations and feasts. It ended up as mortar for buildings in The Rocks, and the sea wall at Farm Cove.

"Is it a coincidence that the Opera House sails also resemble shells and the place is still used for ceremonies and dance?" our guide asked. "Our people think there was certainly a spiritual connection between this place and Joern Utzon. The land told him what to build here."

We puttered on, alongside the Royal Botanic Gardens, learning about the Europeans and their hopeless farms, and the smallpox epidemic of 1789, which the local Aborigines thought was caused by evil spirits.
As we motored past Mrs Macquarie's Point we heard how the Governor's wife had befriended the Aborigines, and how she was invited to become the first white person to witness a sacred ceremony, at nearby Garden Island. We avoided a warship making its way out of Woolloomooloo Bay, "the place of plenty", which used to be thick with mangrove swamp.

Mixed in with the observations of the landscape were tales of the first Aboriginal tour guides, who took early settlers inland from the harbour, as well as mentions of soldiers, statesmen and farmers who came into contact with the Aborigines.

Soon, the boat was pulling up alongside Clark Island, where we disembarked.

Our guide showed us fascinating cave shelters with roofs stained black from ancient fireplaces, convict engravings, and a natural fish trap, too. The Aborigines once lured fish into these fissures in the sandstone, before the outgoing tide made them easy targets for spears.

There were tales of Aborigines carrying glowing embers from place to place on a bed of damp earth in the bottom of their bark canoes, and how the local Aborigines began to ask the settlers, "When are you people going back?". It was fascinating stuff, but the highlight of this wonderful trip was still to come.

From somewhere on the island came the tapping of clap sticks. We followed our ears and emerged into a glade overlooking the water and the Harbour Bridge beyond.

Here we found Turtle and Len, their dark brown bodies plastered in ghostly white ochre. One beat a rhythm with his hardwood sticks while the other growled through a didgeridoo, beckoning us to the Welcoming Ceremony.

We sat on the grass through a repertoire of haunting songs and music, and watched as the Dreamtime was evoked on the harbour once again through traditional dances.

As we headed back to Circular Quay I couldn't help thinking that every Sydneysider and visitor should do this trip.

Source:The Sunday Telegraph travel section

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