What can we learn about humans through plant movements, weeds, and invasive aliens? The Plants-out-of-Place Project investigates how we contribute to, live in, and perceive ‘trans-plant’ landscapes around the Indian Ocean rim and beyond. Click below to see our three main projects:
If you want to know about coastal environmental change, ask a local surfer.
For much of the past five years I’ve been immersed in literature about local people’s knowledge and perceptions of the environment. These locally situated knowledges, developed through continued association and interaction with place, hold detailed insights about environmental change. While my research has focused on Indigenous ecological knowledge, other groups of local resource users such as farmers, hunters and fishermen are increasingly becoming recognised as possessing similarly detailed environmental understandings. Following my recent surf trip to Indonesia, I’d like to add surfers to this list of local knowledge holders. Continue reading
Could cows be used for conservation in the Kimberley? Sure, it just depends on what you are trying to conserve.
I’ve never seen a weedier landscape than the Darram Conservation Estate on the outskirts of Kununurra. As I mentioned in my previous blog, one could mistake the ‘Weed Park’ as a site for Kimberley Weed Bingo instead of a ‘Conservation Estate’.
Darram is considered to be in extremely poor condition by Aboriginal and non-Aboriginal land managers alike, both of which believe that there are few viable management approaches for improving its health. However, during our last visit in August, a Miriwoong elder offered a somewhat revolutionary weed management idea: “Send in the cleaners!” By cleaners, he didn’t mean teams of weed whackers or Aboriginal rangers wielding chainsaws and herbicides, he meant cows! He suggested that cattle would graze on the weeds and by doing so, reduce their density and ‘open the place up to how it used to be when it was healthy’.
Such an approach is almost unimaginable in a mainstream ‘conservation’ sense, and was scoffed at by the Kimberley land managers I posed it to. While they agreed that the cows would probably decrease the density of the weeds and open the site up, they argued that such an approach would not constitute ‘conservation’. This caused me to reflect on the meaning of conservation at Darram, in particular what is trying to be conserved there?
Does Darram mean to conserve a pristine, pre-colonial ecological state? No way. The site is so far removed form any ‘original state’ that this is impossible. Leaving the weeds aside for a moment, Darram is sandwiched between mango and sandalwood plantations on one side and Lake Kununurra on the other, which is a backwater created by a diversion dam built in the 1960’s to supply the newly developed township with water. About a third of it is now underwater because of the dam. To imagine what it even looked like before Europeans arrived is nearly impossible, let alone revert it to this imagined state and then maintain it that way.
Does Darram mean to conserve biodiversity? Perhaps, but if this is the case then it seems perfectly healthy and the weeds could be left alone – they represent the bulk of the site’s plant diversity and still provide habitat for a range of birds and reptiles.
Does it mean to conserve Aboriginal memories, values and heritage? Perhaps, but not currently. In its present condition, Aboriginal elders feel very little connection whatsoever to this place, and dislike even visiting or speaking about it. They describe it as ‘rubbish’, ‘sick’, ‘gone’ and ‘lost’ and prefer to change the subject to a healthier part of country. However, when prompted to speak about how they remember this place, elders share memories of an open savanna, upon which it was easy to ride horses and drove cattle. The area was used as a camp by Aboriginal stockmen while they drove cattle from nearby pastoral stations to the port and meatworks in Wyndham. All of their memories of Darram involve cattle and horses and highlight the significant role pastoralism played in the recent Aboriginal history of the east-Kimberley. For instance, each weed found at Darram has a connection to cows, pastoralism and local Aboriginal history. They remember that Kapok (Aerva javanica) was used by Aboriginal stockmen to stuff their pillows and saddles. They remember that the fruit of Passionfruit Vine (Passiflora foetida) was eaten by stockmen while travelling across country. They remember that Coffee Bush (Leucaena leucocephala) was introduced to the area as a feed-lot plant for the cattle by a charismatic station manager and good friend of many of the Aboriginal pastoral workers. They remember that Calotropis (Calotropis procera) was brought with Brahman cattle in the early 1970s when the region shifted its herds towards heartier cattle that were more suited to the Kimberley climate and landscape. This place and these weeds conserve personal and communal Aboriginal memories that are weaved into the place’s history.
Therefore, if Darram is being conserved for anything, it seems most feasible to conserve it for Aboriginal memories, values and heritage. If this were the case, cows belong there, and ‘sending in the cleaners’ is not an outrageous idea at all: the density of weeds at Darram would be reduced and the site could be ‘conserved’ as a tribute to the area’s pastoral history and to the significant role Aboriginal people played in shaping it.
During the first two weeks of August, ‘The Kimberley Project’ (this time consisting of Priya Rangan, Pat Lowe and myself) reconvened in Kununurra for our fourth round of fieldwork with elders and staff from the Mirrima Dawang Woorlab-gerring Language and Culture Centre.
I recently attended a workshop organised by a group of ‘revolutionary’ weed scientists – although some admitted that ‘ostracised’ or ‘kooky’ might be more appropriate descriptors. The core of this group had realised at the conclusion of a weed science conference some years ago that it is in the human interactions between presentations and sessions at conferences that the real learning and progress is made. They devised a workshop that cut out the conference part altogether and made real space for those ‘between’ times – scrap presentations, instead discuss and debate (and walk in the mountains while we’re at it).
Robots and drones are increasingly doing our weed work. It is a trend that has become particularly noticeable in recent media reports (and the social media that links to them – find a list of examples at the bottom). Stories about non-human weed destroyers laud them for being effective and efficient especially across vast and inaccessible terrain, and for minimising the need for human resources and effort. In short, they are the new heroes of our crusade against the plants we decide do not belong.
Exciting, sure, I love gadgets too! But this new turn in weed tech has made me feel a bit uncomfortable. Continue reading