The BIG BARWON WALK 2016
REPORT
Stage Three ‐ Inverleigh to Barrabool 16th ‐ 20th March 2016
This project was funded by a Victorian Landcare Grant in Corangamite 2015‐2016 The Big Barwon Walk 2016 Report
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Walkers resting after the fourth day ‐ Alan Dow
Produced by the Barrabool Hills Landcare Group and Upper Barwon Landcare Network October 2016. Based on a report written by Peter Greig in April 2016, with input from Lachie Gordon, Lyn George, Fiona East, Steve Murphy, Kaye Rodden, Geoff Anson, Jill Stewart, Sandy Cameron, Maxine Campbell, and Sophie Naylor. Many thanks to Alan Dow and Rod Hall for the photographs displayed in this report Front cover photograph “Steep Going” ‐ Rod Hall Back cover photograph “ Barwon River sign” ‐ Alan Dow
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We are all part of the Barwon River Catchment and yet few of us have an opportunity to truly connect with this significant river. This river, life blood of many native flora and fauna, provides Geelong and the region with fresh water and has been instrumental in defining our landscape. In 2013 a group of passionate Landcare members decided to walk the length of the Barwon River from its source in the Otways to the mouth at Barwon Heads. The reason? To increase the local communities’ awareness of this important feature of the landscape, to talk and walk, connect with the landscape and each other ‐ and learn along the way. The first leg – from Forrest to Birregurra ‐ took us from steep wet forests to wide flat floodplain; the second leg – from Birregurra to Inverleigh ‐ from floodplain to steep‐sided valleys carved out of rolling volcanic plain. The third leg travelled from the confluence of the Barwon and Leigh rivers in Inverleigh through to the eastern edge of the Barrabool Hills at Merrawarp Road. It took us into the country of the Barrabool Hills Landcare Group and Geelong Landcare Network. A large feature of this walk was the engagement of the local landholders and landcarers and the Indigenous component provided by members of the Wadawurrung . Along the way we got a chance to view the extensive revegetation taken along this stretch of the river, its particular environmental and land management issues, and the magnificent river red gums as the river broadens and grows.
Map of the Walk Route 2016 Confluence of the Leigh and Barwon ‐ ‘Barwonleigh’ Sandy Cameron Property, ‘The Hermitage’ Pollocksford bridge Merrawarp Road
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WALK THE BARWON ‐ THIRD LEG, MARCH 2016: CLASH OF CIVILIZATIONS Peter Greig If you had to live off the land in our region, with just a few hand tools and fire at your disposal, you would quickly learn to stick close to the Barwon River below the Leigh, as the first peoples did. And if you’d arrived from England via Tasmania in 1835 to start a colony, you’d probably do the same. For the mid‐Barwon valley was a food‐bowl for both civilizations. The second civilization quickly won the subsequent competition, and hence we know the history from their perspective. William Buckley was in the middle of it, as were Batman, Fawkner, Gellibrand, Hesse and Pollock. But the names and prior history of the first civilization are mostly lost, along with much else. Luckily, elders like Uncle Bryon Powell have kept alive some of the traditional knowledge, and he shared them with a group of walkers who are intent upon walking the full length of this great river. Alongside Uncle Bryon, the walkers heard from owners of historic properties down the river, and from others who could illuminate the state of the river and its attendant geology and natural history. This is the story of the third stage of that walk. It engaged 61 walkers; travelling a total of 33 km, and crossing 19 properties, and innumerable fences. Over the four days, 73 species of birds were sighted, and plenty of native flora and flora were recorded. But most of all, we heard from people who knew much more about this river than we did. First Civilization An elder of the Wadawurrung peoples, Uncle Bryon Powell startled us by noting that his forebears worked only about three hours a day to collect that day’s food, leaving many hours for education and enjoyment. (How much has the second civilization learned? I wondered silently). He welcomed everyone warmly with a smoking ceremony, aromatically supplied by native‐cherry foliage (also called “cherry ballart”). The ceremony is a symbolic reminder that we are all part of the land and not above it, and we need each other. Negative and destructive thoughts are dispelled by the smoke, as we reflect that the native cherry cannot exist alone, but lives symbiotically with other plants in mutual co‐dependence. Equally, we need each other and nature to survive – long‐term. Susan Harris pointed out that cherry ballart’s latin name is instructive: the first name Exocarpus signifying that its seed exists on the outside of its fruit, symbolically reminding us of our fragility. The second name cupressiformis means “like cypress”. To complete the formalities, Uncle Bryon handed to Jennifer Morrow a smoothly‐polished wooden totem stick, cigar‐shaped and hand‐sized, carved with Wadawurrung symbols (diamond in a diamond). This, he said, was our “passport” for entering Wadawurrung country, and it came with his good wishes for success and joy on the journey. In all that he said and did, Uncle Bryon evoked a disarming sense of inclusiveness – all humans at one with each other, and nature. (Again, I reflected: “Wouldn’t that be good in today’s fractious world?”). Among other thought‐provoking insights from the first civilization, he described some of the foods, medicines and tools used by mobs of around thirty people: Foods • Kangaroo apple • “bardi” grubs, revealed by wood dust on black wattle stems • Cumbungi roots • Lomandra fronds (near the base) and seeds (used to make bread) • Golden wattle resin (chewing‐gum, sweetened with native mint) • Golden wattle flowers (water‐sweetener) The Big Barwon Walk 2016 Report
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Medicines • Kangaroo apple (for family planning) • Black wattle sap (for wounds and diarrhoea) Tools • Phragmites stem (fishing‐spear shaft, glued to sharpened blackwood head) • Lomandra fibres, woven into string for baskets, and to aid tree‐climbers for bark‐cutting • Grass‐tree and acacia resin, mixed with kangaroo poo (fibre) and charcoal, and melted to make very strong glue. • Human hair (always worn long), spun into yarn for fishing nets. Later on the walk, Uncle Bryon added to our knowledge of the first peoples’ terms and artefacts: • “Werribee” – spine, life‐support • “Yaloak” – river, creek • “Moomba” – “Up your bum!” • “Wendouree” – “Piss off!” • “Bundi” ‐ a beautifully‐carved wooden toll, with a fist‐sized club at one end, and a sharpened digging blade at the other. Ochres were applied to the body with emu or goanna fat, to remind people that they’re part of mother Earth: Yellow – from Ballarat White – from Meredith Red – from the coast. Wadawurrung territory covered much of the Corangamite CMA region, from Werribee River in the east, to Ballarat in the north, to Mt Emu in the west and southwards to somewhere in the Otways (the boundary still being disputed with the Gunditjmara people further west). Bryon thinks the boundaries were based on river catchments, like CMA boundaries today.
Uncle Bryon smoking the Cherry Ballart ‐ Rod Hall
Finally, a footnote: Wadawurrung is phonetic spelling. The English version (“Wathaurong”) is commonly seen, but is odd, because the first people did not have diphthongs in their language, which was only ever spoken. The Big Barwon Walk 2016 Report
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Confluence of the Barwon and Leigh Rivers. “Barwonleigh” is aptly named, being the property on the southern side of the confluence. This is where walkers assembled for Stage 3, and were welcomed to country by Uncle Bryon. At this historic point, too, we gathered around Fiona East, who recounted the story of explorers Gellibrand and Hesse, who made their way here in 1835, got lost and were never seen again. Apparently they missed the confluence, after ignoring their guide (one Mr Akers, an employee of Captain Pollock, who owned what is now Sophie Naylor’s property). A search party including Pollock, William Buckley (of whom more later) and Gellibrand’s son Tom failed to find the missing men, but managed to inflame tensions between the two civilizations that only got worse over time. Up until then, with Buckley’s intermediation, the two sides had co‐existed peaceably enough. Fawkner’s distrust of Buckley may have contributed (both having arrived at Sorrento on the Calcutta in 1803, and Buckley having escaped).
Roll call at Barwonleigh ‐ Alan Dow
Barwonleigh Duncan Campbell’s family have owned the property since 1897, when it was purchased by his ancestor Dr Harry Leigh Atkinson, along with a number of other big runs further north, using the proceeds of his business dealings in the goldfields. At that time, the property extended to the boundary of Barwon Park, which the walkers visited en route last year . ( ref 1) An earlier owner, Dr Robert Hope, had constructed in 1856 a flour mill, driven first by a water‐wheel fed from a weir and flume, then in 1865 by a steam engine, during a drought. It was closed by 1890, but its ruins are still visible today. By 1914, Harry had died, leaving Duncan’s great grandmother to run the property. These days, the property covers 2359 ha, with seven km of river frontage, falling some 30 m from Mt Pollock in the south. Maxine Campbell summarized the couple’s struggle with weeds – principally serrated tussock – and the consequent necessity of converting the enterprise from fine wool to cropping (Appendix 1). She also noted the vicissitudes of climate: in the 1995 flood that left cattle stranded high in the trees on Fiona East’s property, Barwonleigh’s woolshed was all but submerged, along with much of the land. By contrast, this year, nearly all the dams are dry, and so far no more than 7mm of rain has been recorded. Maxine and Duncan try to complete a new plantation every year, last year with help from the LEAF project. They find, however, that riparian fencing inhibits their ability to manage the weed burden. The Big Barwon Walk 2016 Report
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William Buckley 1780‐1856 In Barwonleigh’s historic bluestone shearers’ quarters, some 50 walkers saw a TV film about Buckley made with Fiona and Richard East as associate producers, and Fiona also as researcher for the project. She coincidentally discovered one of her ancestors had known Buckley in person. The film was also shown at the start of last year’s walk, but it was as good or better second time around, for it’s an extraordinary story. Buckley escaped the brutality of British penal servitude, and after surviving – just – for a year without tools or fire, he was befriended by a Wadawurrung mob, with whom he lived and learned for 32 years, before re‐discovering a party from Batman’s new settlement. Batman relied on Buckley as intermediary with the Wadawurrung, but relations soured after the Gellibrand/ Hesse affair, and never recovered. By 1868, most of the first people had disappeared; despite Batman’s at‐ tempt to bridge the gap – against conservatives on his own side – with the only treaty ever signed between colonists and first peoples. Buckley repaired to Tasmania in 1836 with a heavy heart, spurned as a traitor by his old mob, and unable to cope with the new order. He married a much shorter woman (195 vs 150cm) with whom he “held hands” using a looped handkerchief. After an extraordinary life, he was killed at 76 in a horse accident. Barwonleigh to The Hermitage, March 16‐17 Maxine and the Barrabool Landcare team fed about 42 walkers, many of whom camped near the shearers’ quarters, before heading off downstream to a gorge, or choke, in the river, which had exacerbated the flood that nearly submerged the woolshed. Past the gorge, on the north side, we saw the remains of Dr Hope’s bluestone flour mill and water flume. But what stands out from here on is just how much bigger the river is compared with the Upper Barwon, with the Leigh’s added flows. The former supplies most of Geelong’s water, the latter just a few riverside properties. From here on, you can’t cross the river by foot (except in a few rocky barriers).
Old Flour Mill ‐ Rod Hall
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So when we needed to cross for permitted access, ferrying was necessary, using a six‐person tinny hauled by ropes. This was kindly supplied by David Iliff, whose property we visited on stage 2. Thus we arrived on Mark O’Ryan’s property, which houses a big (300,000 birds) chicken‐breeding operation, all readily ‐ indeed eagerly ‐ conforming to RSPCA’s animal welfare guidelines. Meanwhile, the forecast heatwave was rapidly building, so a lunch break on a shady bank was welcome. We began to relate to the first civilization’s respect for such places. Kaye Rodden supplied lunch and mobile toilet. The river in this section makes nine u‐turns, as it snakes around like a large intestine looking for a way through the basalt flows overlying the Barrabool Hills limestone. Steve Murphy pointed to what he called “pillow lava” ‐ rough cliffs of rock formed when hot lava meets cold water. In one such cliff, peregrine falcons had left their deposits, but none was seen in the flesh, to the disappointment of organizer Jennifer Morrow, who’d spotted one on the “proof‐walk”. Steve also drew attention to the local flora: native hemp; river tea tree; woolly tea tree; river bottle brush; silver and black wattle; blackwood; tree violet; silver tussock grass and of course, the ubiquitous river red gum. Steve later spoke about how this magnificent species was conceptualized by the first civilization (Appendix 2), and how it got its botanical name Punting ‐ Alan Dow from the second (Appendix 3). On one of the several big escarpments surrounding the river, Sophie Naylor casually displayed her skills in attracting clicking crickets by clacking two rocks together. The insects have yellow legs only visible when captured.
Pillow lava ‐ Alan Dow
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The Hermitage We arrived at The Hermitage in good time, thanks to some urging by Lachie Gordon, who had been anxious about walkers dehydrating in the heat. No doubt just to re‐hydrate, half the com‐ pany shed modesty and outer clothes alike, slithering and splashing into cool deep water shaded by red gums, bounded by a green grassy bank, where us prim others watched with a mix of envy and admiration. (Again, an image from the first civilization came to mind: who wouldn’t want to camp here?)
Swimming after a hot day ‐ Rod Hall
Dinner was provided in this idyllic campsite by Rumbletumms, a Wadawurrung venture, including tasty pies made with native meats, including emu and kangaroo. Later, Sandy Cameron, owner of The Hermitage since 2011, took some of the company for a river cruise on his quietly‐powered pontoon, a graceful way to get an on‐water perspective of this wonderful stretch of river. Sandy gave us some of this property’s history: • Settled in 1847 by the Amiet family, Swiss refugees encouraged by their compatriot, wife of Governor LaTrobe, escaping from Neuchatel’s 60‐year war between Protestants and Catholics (Why does that sound familiar, I thought?). • The Amiets saw similarities here with their homeland, so planted what they knew: olives; almonds; grapevines. • These grew well, and were supplied to the goldfields. The wine (hermitage, or shiraz) won awards in Paris. An olive press in an old bluestone building remain as relics of this era. When he first took possession, Sandy energetically embarked on a massive revegetation program, involving 45,000 trees, many of which failed, due to ripping in sandy soil. He subsequently found Steve Murphy and Barrabool Hills Landcare, listened to their counsel, and has since adjusted his sights by expanding the range of species, and matching them to site capacity and conditions. Sandy grew up on a farm near Millicent in South Australia, where his mother embedded the concept of growing trees to protect their farmland, crops and livestock, and to restore nature. He became the CEO of the SA Farmers Federation, and later a Melbourne businessman. The Hermitage to Belvedere, 18 March Yesterday’s heat gave way to a boisterous thunderstorm overnight, bringing howling winds and heavy rain – all a bit unsettling for those of us who view camping rather romantically from the comfort of our homes. Suddenly, the realities facing the first civilization came home. What’s more, our departure was delayed by one incompetent, wet driver (me) sliding his ute off the even wetter track and wedging it firmly against a tree. With help from six competent and strong walkers, the vehicle was released – not un‐damaged – so we could get on our way. It turned out that Sandy’s idyllic campsite was not the only such beauty spot on this section of the Barwon’s twisted intestines. Not far downstream, we came across two spectacular pools, each looking like a crater lake, surrounded by steep rocky cliffs, and apparently deeper than anybody’s been able to fathom ‐ so far. The opposite bank housed a shooting‐lodge, clearly flood‐prone ‐ possibly testament to an earlier owner with friends, and wealth to impress them with. (Well, I thought, why wouldn’t you?) The Big Barwon Walk 2016 Report
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In other stretches, we walked across headlands framed by the river bends, where evidence of historic Swiss horticulture was noted: ancient olive trees, at least. And natural flora too: native salt bush, tree violet, silver tussock grass, and lomandra (spiny‐headed mat rush). Lachie Gordon found evidence of shells on middens, telling of a first people’s campsite. Once again we were required to cross the river, this time on a temporary bridge specifically and skilfully constructed by Brent Rodden, Kaye’s husband, who jointly owns Belvedere, the property hosting our luncheon stop. The bridge, made of two stringers and decking, recalled another specially‐ constructed crossing, for A purpose built crossing ‐ Alan Dow those who went on stage one of the Barwon walk. It was made of an extension ladder and a plank by Richard Gilbert, and it spoke of a smaller river, and a darker time.(Ref 2) Belvedere Over lunch at Belvedere, Kaye Rodden gave us some of its history: Settled in 1836 by Mr Muston, a squatter By 1839, an inventory still extant, of huts, crops, livestock, and personnel In 1854, a house was built on the hill overlooking the river, and what is now the Hamilton Highway Life in that house was described in a book called “Minnie Hunter, squatter’s daughter”. The Roddens’ home is on the same site, but significantly renovated. Kaye went on to illuminate the property’s current management challenges: Controlling weeds and erosion are the big ones Particularly serrated tussock, which they do with tree plantations (to shade out the weed on steep slopes) and casuarina plantings (to catch wind‐blown seeds) and spot‐spraying whatever else appears. Plantations are protected by rabbit‐proof fences. Soil erosion on the steep banks is controlled around the house with ancient agave (cactus) plants, which are effective, but non‐native. Kaye asked Brent rhetorically whether he would do it all again, to which he replied: “Not in a million years!” Readers ‐ be warned!
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Belvedere ‐ Alan Dow
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Above; Canoeing the Barwon‐ Alan Dow Belvedere to Pollocksford Bridge Below ; Pollocksford bridge ‐ Rod Hall From the homestead, full of lunch and good cheer, we ambled back to the river’s edge, where Helen Shelley, Simon Williams and his dog Martin Peterson had assembled some 20 canoes, 40 lifejackets, and paddles, and gave patient instructions to the uninitiated about canoe‐manoeuvring and etiquette. Somehow, we got the hang of it, and spent an hour with a stiff tail‐wind, scooting down‐stream, covering more ground in a straight line (about 3.5km) than we had over the last day‐and‐a‐half, zig‐zagging on foot. That’s mostly because the river here straightens out, and except for a couple of rocky spots where portage was necessary, we found it all quite exhilarating and easy‐going. Though the banks slid past, we could see that they were flatter and more accessible to stock than in the previous, contorted section. When we could travel no further due to a rocky outcrop, we found ourselves at our next stopping point: Michael Naylor’s property, where the canoes were beached and loaded onto a waiting trailer. We then crossed the boundary onto Simon and Sophie Naylor’s property where they currently agist sheep. There were two large sections of river fenced off and revegetated, and plans for further fencing and plantings this year. We traversed the fences, and sighted a juvenile Eastern brown snake which was a pale tan colour with a black head. It soon disappeared down a crack. It was then just a short walk to the Pollocksford Bridge, our campsite. Some walkers crossed by the historic bridge. More intrepid souls hopped rocks to the other side where Deidre Murphy of CCMA water‐watch had prepared trays of water samples from the river for us. In these we identified various aquatic invertebrates including shrimp juveniles , mosquito fish, damsel fly nymphs, and water beetles. The variety and number of creatures found as well as other parameters such as turbidity and oxygen levels, which are only around 50 per cent, compared with 100 for a healthy system. Lack of flow in the river is a major problem for the Barwon. The Big Barwon Walk 2016 Report
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We set up camp over the road at the Hucker’s property having made up lost time. A fabulous seafood Paella was ready for us and we listened to Steve Murphy’s fascinating talk on both civilizations’ views on the history and naming of River Red Gum (Eucalyptus camaldulensis) (Appendices 2 and 3). The dream‐time story isn’t easily summarized, except to say that it traces the red gums back to ancestors and spirits, with a memorable moral that kindness is rewarded, and arrogance punished. The naming story goes back a thousand years, but centres on 1817, when Frederick Denhardt, Count Camaldoli’s head gardener in Italy, planted red gum seeds brought earlier from New South Wales. Hence camaldulensis, which survived more recent attempts to re‐name the species. Either story is testimony to Steve’s dedication and forensic determination.
Talk by Steve Murphy ‐ Alan Dow Pollocksford to Georges Hill Saturday 19th March. Starting on the south bank of the river, 25 walkers passed abandoned vineyards and through John George and Dennis Richards’ property. Stopping for lunch, we were addressed by Geoff Anson on the history of Barrabool vineyards (Ref 3): First vines at Pollocksford in 1842, planted by Swiss migrants escaping religious wars, and droughts at home, encouraged by Governor LaTrobe, and seeking a monarchical State (not a republic like America); They bought skills from home, in soil‐manuring, and trellising styles, as well as wine‐making (e.g. adding dried cherries for colour); By 1856, Neuchatel wines were presented at the opening of parliament in Melbourne; In 1861, 75,000 litres of wine were yielded from the Parish of Barrabool; individual vineyards were producing around 15,000 litres. Disaster struck in 1877, when phylloxera (a nematode originating in America, arriving here via Europe) was found in several vineyards. The rest were destroyed to prevent contagion. The Ansons are part of the recovery of wine‐making in Barrabool, favoured by limestone soils. Later we passed the old wine cellar on the George’s river‐fence line. On this section of river we again saw the positive effect of preventing stock access to the river. Better grass cover, especially phalaris and other perennials assisted serrated tussock control, and previously we had seen self‐sown river red gums establishing where fencing and stock exclusion was the sole treatment. We arrived at the campsite at Ross and Lyns’, and the Landcare tent was already set up and kettle boiled. Shuttles were done and the first delivery of pizzas arrived.
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Walking at the George’s ‐ Alan Dow Georges Hill – Ross & Lyn George The George family have owned the extended property since the 1860s when it was purchased by John George who immigrated from Devon as did many people who settled in the Barrabool district. He originally made his money from agricultural processing and bought the land as part of the Strathlachlan Estate in 1885 and named his property “Horton Vale” after the original home in Devon. One strand of the family stayed on the farm and the other were engineers. In the 1970s Ross’s father John and uncle Bob bought the farm back from their “Uncle Wal”. Ross and Lyn bought 72 hectares from Bob and Jenny George in 2001 and this area encompasses river frontage as well as Georges Hill – a local land‐mark that previously housed an epidirite or “greenstone” quarry and which spectacularly overlooks the plains north of the Barrabool Hills. Over the last 15 years Ross and Lyn and their three children have planted over 85,000 trees on their land that was originally devoid of vegetation and run as a grazing property. They recognised that re‐vegetating the property with native and indigenous trees and shrubs would be good for the environment, aesthetics and complementing their lifestyle, given they run a business in Geelong. The journey began with the family “rabbit‐proofing” the entire property and then embarking on an ambitious planting program. This was mostly without tree guards or watering given the scale of the plantings. Much support was given by the local Barrabool Hills Landcare Group, particularly Bronte Payne. An arboretum has been added to concentrate on the propagation of rare and endangered species and to provide future seed sources. Part of the property in the southern corner has also been planted out specifically for agroforestry and harvesting for commercial outcomes. Along the way significant advice has been given by Steve Murphy from Treehome Nursery as to planting. These species included mahogany gum, sugar gum, lightwood, black she‐ oak ,and blue‐gums. Very helpful advice has also been given by Otway Agroforestry Network as to pruning and thinning of the area in order to maximise returns. The Big Barwon Walk 2016 Report
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George’s property to Barwon Ridge winery Sunday 20th March 22 walkers stopped first at the greenstone quarry on George’s Hill. Ross described how it was an important material in Aboriginal trade, it being used in axe‐ and spear‐heads. As a unique resource, it was traded over vast distances, and relics have been found hundreds of kilometres away (e.g. Lake Mungo, 90km north of Mildura) After inspecting the various plantings, it was back to the river and through McKenzies’, passing irrigated artichokes and finally to the Merrawarp Road bridge, where we found plenty of rubbish and a burnt‐out van. John Macintyre said the pool there is called shotgun pool because “of the number of shotguns tossed in there by thugs from Geelong! First sign of wilderness west of town!!” We paused briefly for team photo, then drove to lunch with Geoff and Joan Anson at their Barwon Ridge winery. Once again, Christa, Maxi, Trevor, and Kaye had marvelous catering organized for us. The afternoon sun and ambience including Anson’s great wines were a perfect way to finish. Thanks were due to so many. Jennifer Morrow was thanked by Councillor Heather Wellington; Kaye Rodden thanked Maxi, Christa and Trevor; Mandy Baker re‐introduced Uncle Bryon, resplendent in possum skin coat, who passed a new totem stick passport to Steve Reddington of Barwon Water, as our representative for next year’s walk. And Jennifer passed him “the bone”.
Uncle Bryon passing the message stick ‐ Rod Hall
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Conclusion This third stage, which covered 33 km over four days, was clearly distinct from the first two. For a start, the memory of the first civilization in this stretch was animated persuasively by elder Bryon Powell. Second, this section of the Barwon River is bigger, being supplemented by the Leigh, and has spectacularly steep valley sides in some parts. Thirdly, the properties are typically squatters’ legacies, and thus culturally historic. And lastly, they mostly exhibit some form of earlier exploitation or invasion, from over‐clearing or weeds and pests, but they are now nearly all undergoing major reclamation, often but not everywhere fueled ‐ as the squatters were ‐ by off‐farm wealth. This is heartening for landcarers, and indeed, everyone. The clash of two civilizations became very evident on this walk, leaving us better‐informed, and perhaps better‐attuned to each other and our landscape, and our collective past. If so, then the hopes of Jennifer Morrow, whose idea it all was from the start, would have been fulfilled. And this leg’s committee (appendix 5) must be congratulated for seamless organization, and warmly thanked, as are property owners, participants and walkers (Appendix 6). The group of walkers has varied in size, but is getting larger and closer as we descend to the sea. Next year is anticipated keenly.
View of the river from Merrawarp Road ‐ Alan Dow
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Appendix 1 FROM GRAZING TO CROPPING ON BARRIER COUNTRY NOTES ON A SITE VISIT TO ‘BARWONLEIGH’, June 5, 2015 Draft 12 June 2015, Peter Greig Revolutions are rare in Australian agriculture, and seem to arise mainly from corporate‐type interventions. But fifth generation graziers, Maxine and Duncan Campbell on the Barwon River near Inverleigh, have revolu‐ tionized their traditional fine‐wool grazing enterprise into a combined cropping‐grazing operation that is be‐ ing copied by neighbours, and marvelled at by many. To do it, they had to convert impassable rocky country into arable land – an astonishing feat. Their achievements were on display to about 90 landcarers and catchment managers in Corangamite region assembled for award presentations on World Environment Day. Impassable Barrier Country Much of the Campbell’s 2360 hectare property is stony rises which the CFA maps as “impassable”, even by motorbike. The original settlers made use of the fertile soils, reasonable climate and open woodlands by sim‐ ply breeding merinos, shearing them and selling the fine wool, a tradition improved upon but technologically unchanged much over five generations. Then disaster struck, in 1996. Serrated Tussock The weed crept upon them insidiously and was difficult if not impossible to control because of the terrain. Aerial spraying killed everything, including income. The Campbells faced ruin – but with the tenacity of their forebears, they faced up to the alternative: a revolutionary investment in land transformation. From Grazing to Cropping Cropping such inhospitable land was unthinkable, you would think. Selling their prized flock, dislodging basalt blocks one‐by‐one with an excavator; pushing them into windrows with an under‐powered bulldozer; spacing the windrows to accommodate precision cropping machinery; levelling the soil; spraying the tussocks; fertiliz‐ ing with lime, gypsum and fish‐oil as well as conventional nitrogen and phosphorus; then sowing and harvest‐ ing crops on rotation were tasks that took literally years of patient persistence, without immediate reward. Talk about delayed gratification! Yet Maxine and Duncan achieved all that. First with share‐croppers, then with their own machinery. Canola, wheat, barley and legumes on rotation have yielded up to seven tonnes per hectare. A leased piggery with 1300 sows produces 30,000 piglets per year grown‐out in permanent shelters, the waste from which is spread over new cropping land. Their bank provided debt capital, presumably on the expectation of increased capital and productive value of the land, and an ultimate financial dividend. Landcare Underlying this miracle of family feistiness was a Landcare philosophy of ecologically sustainable economic development. Waste is a resource (e.g. from piggery). Investment is long‐term, and carefully thought‐out. Risks are taken, but not recklessly. Trust in partners is offered and reciprocated. Public co‐investment in plan‐ tations and re‐vegetation projects is accepted on a cost‐sharing basis, but not relied upon. The Campbells are intent upon leaving a legacy even better than they inherited. The Big Barwon Walk 2016 Report
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Reflection and Conclusions Maxine and Duncan will admit that the revolution was painful and not chosen voluntarily. Climbing the steep learning curve was hardly effortless! But it might have been inevitable eventually, given the apparently end‐ less cost‐price squeeze afflicting graziers. Perhaps that’s encouraged neighbours to follow the lead so bravely pioneered by the Campbells. At odds with this story of hardy neighbourliness, they have found that government regulations on serrated tussock have been applied over‐zealously and one‐sidedly ‐ if not unhelpfully ‐ provoking in turn resentment and de‐motivation among landowners, even those who see the need and are making good progress. This was an un‐realized opportunity to apply the Landcare principle of government and landowners jointly contributing to a jointly agreed aim. As Joan Kirner said, people affected by a decision should be involved in making it. One hopes that the Campbells’ spirit of combining economic development with ecological sustainability and public responsibility will carry on to the neighbours as well. It is certainly an inspiration to landcarers and catchment managers everywhere. Their story should be widely known.
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Appendix 2 Dream Time story of how the River Red Gum came to be Introduction One of the beauties of the dreamtime storey is that it makes complex ideas accessible to all age groups. The stories take place in the ‘Dreamtime’ when many of the animals, important land forms and significant trees were supernatural beings that were half human and through some heroic deed or foolishness they were transformed to the form that we see today. There is always a moral to a Dreamtime story. This story is told respectfully and to acknowledge the first Australians past and present. It is told in appreciation of the generations of men, women and children who once walked these river paths as we have today. This story is of a time many years ago when there were no trees, only grasslands and shrubs on the Basalt Plains west of Geelong. At this time living amongst the local people was a clan of giants called the Bool. These men were taller and more power‐ fully built than all the other clans that occupied the lands and they were greatly feared in battle. Because of their superior strength and stamina, the Bool became so arrogant that they occupied the lands along the rivers and declared that only they could fish and hunt on them. The other clans who lived on these lands complained and pleaded because they too needed access to these fertile and rich hunting grounds, particularly during times of drought, but the Bool appeared not to listen. The Rainbow Serpent who had made the land, its rivers, creeks and waterholes as well as its mountains and valleys was becoming annoyed with the arrogance of the Bool and sent some stormy weather and heavy rain to swell the river banks and flood the surrounding plains as a warning, but the Bool did not even fear the wrath of the Rainbow Serpent. The Rainbow Serpent sent more severe storms and heavy rain that continued for weeks so that the rivers broke their banks and flooded the lands for as far as the eye could see, but the Bool stubbornly stood their ground. The other people were now very afraid that they would all drown and asked the Bool for help. Arrogant and stubborn they may have been, but they were not cruel and didn’t want the other people to suffer while they stood their ground against the Rainbow Serpent, so they invited all who asked them for help to climb on to their backs and legs and wherever they could find a space above the rising flood waters. Even though many people climbed on, incredibly there was always room for more. Bunjil the Wedge‐tailed Eagle, Waakee the Raven and Balayang the Bat hovered over the Bool and asked if they too could land on them and rest for a while, so the Bool stretched up their mighty arms and spread their long fingers so that the birds, bats and any animal that could climb would have somewhere to wait out the storm. While more and more people and animals climbed onto the Bool to escape the rising flood waters the Bool pushed their feet deeper into the river banks and their toes stretched and clutched at whatever solid ground that there was so that they could stand firm in the raging floodwaters and they did. Meanwhile the Rainbow Serpent was watching and couldn’t help but be impressed with this kindness and heroism as well as the strength and tenacity of the Bool. The Bool cried‐out to the Rainbow Serpent and asked for the rains to stop, but they still wanted to inhabit the land along waterways and around billabongs. The Rainbow Serpent agreed only if the Bool would agree to look after the people, the animals and the birds and become custodians of the waterways providing shelter and food for all who needed it. The Bool who had grown to love and respect all those who had climbed onto them agreed to the Rainbow Serpents proposal. So the rain stopped, the clouds cleared, the sun came out for the first time in weeks and the flood waters receded. To the amazement of all the people when they climbed down off the Bool, these giant men had grown greatly in stature, their muscles had become solid and unyielding, and their hair that had been thick and black was changing colour and tturning green. They were transforming into mighty trees before the eyes of the astounded onlookers. The people looked beyond the mighty trees at the most beautiful and perfect of rainbows arching like a snake like across the clear sky. They could see red, orange, yellow, green, blue, indigo and violet mirrored on either side of a shimmering darkness. Many bowed their heads as a sign of respect to the power and magnificence of this divine being that could give life through water and could take life away by sending floods if angered by people’s foolishness. The Rainbow Serpent had tricked the Bool into believing that their strength and tenacity had won the day. When actually it had turned them into giant trees. To this day the Bool live along the rivers and creeks, providing food, and shelter to an extraordinary variety of insects, birds, bats, reptiles, amphibians, mammals as well as to the people of the land. The mighty Bool are seen today as the mighty River Red Gums that are found in every mainland state of Australia. True to their promise to the Rainbow Serpent, they provide homes, shelter and food to an extraordinary variety of living creatures and help hold the river banks together with their deep unyielding roots during times of drought and flood.
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Appendix 3 The Naming of the River Red Gum ‐ a story that spans nearly 1,000 years ‐ Compiled by Steve Murphy Time line
Key players
Story
1012
Maldolus, a wealthy land owner in Tuscany
Has a dream of monks dressed in white robes ascending into heaven
1012
Brother Romauld, a Benedictine monk (later canonized)
Thought by his followers to be 103 years old (historians believe him to be 61, but it was a good story line), was travelling around Italy establishing monastery's and hermitages. Maldolus offers Brother Romauld land in the mountains above Poppieast of Florence to set up a hermitage. Romauld builds 5 stone cells for hermit monks and two years later begins the monastery. He calls it Campus Maldoli later shortened to Camaldoli.
Camaldoli monks build a new hermitage in the rugged mountains east of Naples
1815
Francesco Ricciardi ‐ The Count of Camaldoli
Gifted some of the Camaldoli hermitage lands by the new Bourbon government of Naples (King Napoleon the first is exiled from Naples)
1815
Frederick Denhardt ‐ the head gardener at the new botanic gardens in Naples
Engaged to design and plant new gardens for the Count of Camaldoli, in the rugged hills east of Naples
1817
Allan Cunningham the Kings Botanist in the new colony of New South Wales accompanies John Oxley the Surveyor Gen‐ eral.
Expedition west along the Macquarie and Lachlan Rivers ‐ 2000Km and 450 plants species collected, including seed of the River Red Gum (RRG) from Condobolin
1818
Frederick Denhardt
Plant material sent to the UK and the Austrian Emperor. Some RRG seed is sown in the Naples botanic gardens greenhouse and germinates well
1822
Frederick Denhardt
Reports the RRG thriving in the new Camaldoli gardens
1832
Frederick Denhardt
Officially describes and names his 40 foot tall RRGs Eucalyptus camaldulensis after the hermitage
1832 ‐ 40
Frederick Denhardt’s name is forgotten
1847
Diederich von SchlecterindahlNSW botanist
Names RRG E. rostrata (Rostratus is Latin for point/ beak and refers to the point on the cap/operculum.
1853
Ferdinand von MuellerGovernment Botanist for Victoria
Renamed RRG E. longirostratisas E. rostratahad already been given to the Swamp Mahogany Gum
1922
The 100 year old RRGs planted by Frederick Denhardt are cut down and the Camaldoli gardens near Naples abandoned
1934
Frederick Denhardt
Miraculously his original article describing the RRG was rediscovered. The 'rule of priority of publication' determined that Denhardts original name should be restored to Eucalyp‐ tus camaldulensis
2007
Steve& Lina Murphy, Treehome Nursery
Stay at the original 1000 year old hermitage at Camaldolinear Poppihoping to track down the original RRG's named by Frederick Denhardt. Discover they aremore likely near Naples. Discover correspondence to the monks at the Camaldoli Hermitage ‐ a photo and description of a 200 year old RRG in a courtyard in Portugal.
1500's
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Appendix 4 Committee members Geoff and Joan Anson Maxine Campbell Lach & Janet Gordon Christa Jones Ian Kelly Jennifer Morrow Kaye Rodden Denis Richards Jim Seager Jill Stewart Tony Woolford
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Appendix 5 Participants in the 2016 Barwon Walk Property Owners
Other Participants
Joan & Geoff Anson Sandy Cameron Maxine & Duncan Campbell Lyn & Ross George Neil Hucker Simon Naylor Brent & Kaye Rodden Walkers Joan & Geoff Anson Kim Attard Philip Bade Stephan Carey Judy Comley Claire Cotton Claire & James Dennis Alan Dow Pie & Mark Earles Stan & Deborah Filippis Lyn & Ross George Richard & Pat Gilbert Janet & Lach Gordon Peter Greig Rod Hall Jennifer Hallowes Sue Harris Anthony Jones Ian Kelly John McIntyre Stewart Mathison Jennifer & Richard Morrow Steve & Lina Murphy Lynda Murray Sophie Naylor Luke Pitman Bryon Powell Jenny Scovell Dale Smithyman Donna Smithyman Jill & Andrew Stewart Hugh Stewart Jo Wade Heather Wellington Cheryl West Lau
Elissa Ashton Smith Mandy Baker Sandy Cameron David Iliff Cheryl & Sam Inglis Christa & Trevor Jones Julie & Graham Lee Graham McKiernan Deidre Murphy Steven Reddington Kaye & Brent Rodden Jim, Rachel & Ruby Seager Helen Shalley Chris Tournier
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Appendix 6 ‐ Bird List March 17 Black duck Galah Grey shrike thrush Willy wagtail Grey fantail Blue wren Dusky moor hen Black cormorant Crested pigeon White plumed honey eater Pied cormorant Eurasian coot Eastern rosella Wood duck (maned goose) Welcome swallow Brown falcon White necked heron March 18 Grebe Nankeen night heron March 19 Yellow tailed black cockatoo Nankeen night heron Fairy martin Magpie Crimson rosella Red browed finch Pied cormorant Superb fairy wren Galah Wedge tail eagle Kookaburra Sulphur crested cockatoo Fuscous honeyeater New Holland honeyeater Mudlark Blackfaced cuckoo shrike Wood swallow Welcome swallow Blue winged grass parrot Rainbow lorikeet Grey shrike thrush Blackbird Black duck Wood duck Teal Red wattle bird Eurasian coot The Big Barwon Walk 2016 Report
White faced heron Whistling kite Willy wagtail Grey fantail Crow Red rumped parrot Superb kingfisher Eastern rosella March 20 Kookaburra Boobook owl Whistling kite Magpie Shrike thrush Yellow robin Raven Sulphur crested cockatoo Grey fantail Wedge tail eagle Blue wren Crimson rosella White plumed honey eater Eastern rosella Black faced cuckoo shrike Willy wagtail Cormorant Darter
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REFERENCES 1. 2. 3.
Peter Greig ( 2015) Walk the Barwon Second Leg April 2015 Peter Greig ( 2014) Walk the Barwon First Leg 2014 Geoff Anson ( 2016) Vineyards of the Barrabool Hills 1841 ‐2013
ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS Thanks are due to many who have helped to make this walk a success; Barrabool Hills landcare group executive and members Barwon Water Big Barwon Walk Committee Corangamite CMA staff, including ‘Water‐watch’ officers, ‘River health’ officers , and the Indigenous NRM Facilitator Fiona East Geelong Landcare Network Helen Shelley Landholders along the way who hosted the walkers and allowed us to travel on their land. Peter Greig Rosemont Estate $500 donation Steven Murphy Upper Barwon Landcare Network The Waddawurrung This report also pays tribute to the Memory of Tony Woolford, member of the walk committee who passed away early 2016. Report compiled by Mandy Baker October 2016
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