Living Land Living Culture Aboriginal Heritage and Salinity

Living LandLiving CultureAboriginal Heritage & Salinity

Anthony English & Louise Gay

“It’s really upsetting for me to see that salt. That white dirt eating away at the land.

It’s just like a cancer, gobbling everything up in its path. It makes me feel no good

inside because when you relate to the land in a spiritual Aboriginal way, and seeing

these things, it makes me feel no good.”

Evelyn Powell, Wiradjuri Elder living at Nanima Village near Wellington in

Central West NSW.

The term "salinity" refers to the presence of salt in our waterways and soils at unnatural

levels. Caused by the loss of native vegetation and the subsequent raising of water-

tables, salinity is one of the most significant environmental problems facing Australia

today. It has already generated widespread damage to agricultural lands, biodiversity,

urban settlements and regional economies. Researchers have estimated that Australia

loses a piece of land the size of a football field to salinity every day.

This book looks at the effects of salinity, and environmental problems more generally,

on Aboriginal cultural heritage in New South Wales. It explores how environmental

degradation can affect cultural places such as historic sites, people’s "country", their

bush foods and medicines, their well-being and their sense of community identity.

The book sets out ideas and strategies for dealing with these problems. Its core

message is that we need to link the management of natural and cultural heritage

and understand the relationship between people’s sense of place and the condition

of the environment around them.

www.environment.nsw.gov.auLiving Land Living Culture


Living LandLiving Culture



Published by the Department of Environment and Conservation (NSW), June 2005 ©

National Library Cataloguing-in-Publication dataEnglish, Anthony (Anthony James).Living land living culture: Aboriginal heritage & salinity.

Bibliography.Includes index.ISBN 1 74137 104 X DEC 2005/03

1. Aboriginal Australians - New South Wales - Social lifeand customs. 2. Aboriginal Australians - Material culture -New South Wales. 3. Salinity - Environmental aspects -New South Wales. 4. Environmental degradation - New SouthWales - Prevention. 5. Cultural property - Protection -New South Wales. I. Gay, Louise. II. New South Wales.Dept. of Environment and Conservation. III. Title.

305.89915

The two drawings by Evelyn Powell remain her intellectual property. DEC also recognises the intellectual property of the Aboriginal people whose words are featured in this publication.

Apart from any fair dealing for the purposes of private study, research, criticism or review, as permitted under the Copyright Act, no part of this publication may be reproduced by any process without written permission from the Department of Environment and Conservation (NSW).Inquiries should be addressed to DEC.

The views expressed in this publication do not necessarily represent those of DEC. While every efforthas been made to ensure that the information is accurate at the time of printing, DEC cannot acceptresponsibility for any errors or omissions.

Aboriginal people are warned that this book contains the names and images of Aboriginal people who have since passed away.

Book production: Sabine Partl and Louise GayBook Design: Jelly Design, SydneyPrinted by: Penrith Art Printing Works

Photos:1 Echidna (Louise Gay)2 Quandong Fruit (DEC Photo Library)3 Crow Track (Louise Gay)4 Scarred Tree (Louise Gay)

Department of Environment and ConservationPO Box 1967 Hurstville NSW 2220Phone 1300 361 967 or 02 9585 6444 Fax 02 9585 6555www.environment.nsw.gov.au

FOREWORD i i i

ACKNOWLEDGMENTS v

1 INTRODUCTION 1

2 THE ABORIGINAL HERITAGE &

SALINITY PROJECT

Taking an holistic approach 9

Project aims 13

Who can use this book? 14

Steps forward 14

Major challenges 15

Definition of cultural heritage 16

What is salinity? 16

Available data on the location of salinity in NSW 19

The salinity management agenda 20

Potential effects of salinity on Aboriginal heritage 21

Management options 28

3 THE WELLINGTON CASE-STUDY

Why Wellington? 34

Aims of the case-study 34

Case-study methodology: looking at the big picture 34

Environment of the study region 40

Local Aboriginal people’s connection to the 42Wellington area

Wild resource use around Wellington 49

Archaeological sites 58

Salinity and the Wellington district 61

What are the effects of salinity on cultural values? 62

Conclusion 67

Contents

4 LOOKING AHEAD

Introduction: balancing site specific & catchment- 69scale planning

Linking cultural heritage to new planning frameworks 71

Cultural heritage benefits from 73natural resource management

Setting cultural heritage indicators 73

Taking action 75

Final Word: shared opportunities 79

NOTES 81

BIBLIOGRAPHY 85

INDEX 87

Aboriginal culture in NSW is uniquely tied to the land and it should therefore come as no surprise to find that salinity, in degrading the land, is a source of anxiety to Aboriginal people. Living Land, Living Culture is,however, the first study to lay before us in detail the impact that salinity is having on Aboriginal heritage inNSW and to offer options for remediating this impact.

It is sobering to read the personal testimonies of Aboriginal people in the Wellington area, for example, whospeak of their sadness at what salinity is doing to the land they grew up in, the rivers they have fished in, thenative plants they have relied on. And yet we learn that the affects of salinity reach beyond the culture of theliving; the remains of old Aboriginal camp sites that have survived for thousands of years are now in manycases being eaten away by salt scalds.

The research presented in this book was an initiative of the NSW Salinity Strategy announced in 2000, theplan crafted in response to the Salinity Summit in Dubbo held that same year. In keeping with the Strategy’sapproach, the present book combines scientific knowledge with practical measures for managing the effectsof salinity; measures that place an emphasis on community partnerships.

I commend the authors of Living Land, Living Culture and the Aboriginal community members and otherswho contribute to this publication by providing insights into the problem and offering ideas for its solution.

While the problem of salinity is great, this fine study records the many positive and innovative steps being takento ameliorate the impact of salinity on this State’s precious Indigenous heritage.

I warmly endorse this book and the valuable work it documents.

iii

Foreword by Premier Bob Carr

Bob CarrPremier

Many people have contributed to this research byproviding time, expertise and personal views aboutsalinity and its implications for Aboriginal heritagein New South Wales. In particular we would like tothank the Wiradjuri people living in the Wellingtonarea who agreed to take part in oral historyinterviews, field trips and meetings. All weregenerous with their memories and knowledge andinvited us into their homes and country. They wereEvelyn Powell, Joyce Williams, Rose Chown, JohnAmatto, Vivienne Griffin, Paul West, Joan Willie,Violet Carr, Bill Carr and Robert Stewart. Eachperson has given us permission to use quotesfrom their interviews in this publication.

Part of Evelyn Powell’s contribution was to drawpictures, which express her feelings about theeffects of salinity on country. These arereproduced here with her permission.

Juliet Corish and Alan Nicholson from theCentral West Salt Team at DLWC (now the NSWDepartment of Planning, Infrastructure and NaturalResources) gave us valuable insight to salinityissues in the region. Alan took us to numerous saltscalds in the area, and discussed the processesused in salt scald remediation and the implicationsfor archaeological sites. Juliet played a pivotal rolein securing access to digital salinity outbreak dataused during our analysis. Charmaine Beckett,acting director, NSW Salinity Strategy, and Michelle

Gardner, senior Aboriginal policy officer, DIPNR,attended project planning meetings and commentedon progress reports.

Syd Craythorn, senior planner with WellingtonCouncil, provided information about its views onsalinity and the management of cultural heritage.

Lachlan Campbell of “Easterfield” and Scott Tourleof “The Springs” allowed us to do archaeologicalresearch on their properties. Their support andinterest in the work is greatly appreciated.

Bill Allen, Aboriginal sites officer at Bathurst, attendedearly community meetings in Wellington and helpedus make contact with key Wiradjuri people in the area.Ailing Hsu, GIS officer with the NPWS, drove theArcView Geographic Information System analysis ofarchaeological sensitivity in the study area.

James Drown and Denis Byrne helped fine-tunethe text of this book. We greatly appreciate theimprovements brought by their editing. Moreover,thanks to Sabine Partl who assisted withproduction. Importantly, credit goes to Jelly Designfor the polished layout. Your design breathes lifeinto our work. In addition, your help to implementchanges to the text was invaluable. Finally thanksto the Harrington family (Vanessa, Warren, Nathanand Lachlan) of the Upper Minnamurra RivercareGroup. Keep up the great work – you inspire us.

v

Acknowledgments

This book is about the relationship

between land management and the

protection of Aboriginal heritage in

NSW. Such a broad topic requires

a focus, and we can use Augustus

Earle’s 1826 depiction of the

“Moolong Valley near Wellington”

in Central Western New South Wales

to illustrate some of the key themes

considered here.

Earle’s picture raises questions about the effectsof European agriculture on the landscape, thecontinued presence of Aboriginal people on countryafter settlement, and the powerful dichotomy drawnin Western thinking between “nature” and “culture”.These themes have played a major role in shapingthe management of land and heritage in NSW.Obviously, in recognising this, we look at Earle’swork through a lens that is very different from hisown. Ours is coloured by awareness of the socialand environmental history that has filled the yearsbetween his paint drying and the present day.

The picture is typical of many colonial paintingsof the early 19th century, in that it speaks of the“progress” being made by settlers in a “new” land.Earle produced an array of images of New SouthWales and Tasmania which emphasised thiselement of colonial Australian identity.1 In thepresent case, he does so by showing evidenceof settler attempts to clear the bush and establishagricultural production. Today, when we view thisscene, we are aware that the tree stumps in thefore and middle ground are prophetic, both of thescale of future economic change and the onset of

1

1 Introduction

Left page and above: Augustus Earle, MoolongValley near Wellington, New South Wales, 1826.Watercolour on paper. Reproduction courtesy of theMitchell Library, State Library of New South Wales.

environmental degradation which we now live withon a daily basis.

While many of Earle’s other paintings includeimages of Aboriginal people, it is unclear whetherthey are shown here.2 It is possible that the twofigures seated at the fire near the settler’s tent areWiradjuri. Even so, it is as if Aboriginal people havebeen removed from the scene in much the sameway as the trees. Where Earle does include themin other paintings, they are generally shown asspectators to the coming change brought byEuropeans. Their role is a passive one, and hisartistic device is to hint at disconnection anddiscontinuity. This idea of passivity was mirroredby settler inability to understand that Aboriginalpeople and their social systems had shaped thevery structure of the landscape they moved into.The aspect of the Moolong Plains presumablyvalued most by settlers, the open land suitedto grazing or crops, probably resulted fromWiradjuri use of fire.

Clearing the bush is seen as progress in a newland. In the background of the picture a line ofdense trees can be seen peeking over the rim ofthe ridgeline which fringes the plain. Its recessionto a point almost over the horizon instructs theviewer about the over-whelming power of settlercapacity to tame the bush and make the landproductive. At the same time, Earle is possiblyreminding us of the scale of this effort andindicating that much more is required before theland can be seen as having been “civilised”.

In this study, we seek to confront the messagesEarle’s picture projects. Our aim is to explore theeffects of land degradation on Aboriginal heritagein NSW. In particular, we have focused ourattention on salinity, a form of degradation thathas its source in the first clearing by settlersexemplified in Earle’s painting.3 Our brief hasbeen to assess how salinity affects Aboriginalplaces and values, and to develop approachesto managing this problem. Doing so has involvedcollaborative research with Wiradjuri people inthe Wellington region.

By tracing the impacts of salinity on Aboriginalheritage, it becomes clear that effectivemanagement requires questioning manyassumptions about the nature of this heritage,and the intersections between social values andlandscape change. Contrary to Earle’s depictionof absence or passivity, Aboriginal people have

continued to adapt and develop their culturalidentity in the face of such change. The alteredlandscapes wrought by Europeans have continuedto embody a range of complex cultural andhistorical associations. Far from fading into someform of distant past, Aboriginal people have neverceased being a central part of the picture. We needto consider the diversity of values, places andattitudes recognised by Aboriginal people todaywhen we attempt to implement sustainable land-use and to assess the scope of the environmentalproblems we face.

The idea of progress suggested by the tree stumpsin Earle’s painting is also now widely accepted asbeing problematic. Most people would understandthat such change comes at a social and environmentalcost. This requires rapid and strategic action toredress. To do so, we must question the gulfbetween nature and culture suggested by the bushin Earle’s background, and its contrast to the “civilised”landscape. Today we understand that biodiversityand the environment provide a range of social andeconomic benefits. These benefits are tied to acomplex set of values that reflect how we perceivethe land. We cannot manage the land if we fail torecognise these links between ecological and socialsystems. They span tenure boundaries and jumpthe fence between farmland and forest. For thisreason, local knowledge of landscapes must playa role in their management.

Understanding the social values of

landscape and generating land-use change

requires engaging with people, not simply

with economics or biophysical systems.

Such awareness has guided our approach

to this study.

While this book focuses on the problem of salinity,it has been impossible to divorce our discussionfrom these wider themes. In the same way thatwe cannot manage land in isolation from rivers,or trees separate from fauna, we cannot tacklethe issue of salinity without working in a broaderlandscape scope. It would be inappropriate toisolate salinity and its effects from the complexprocesses of environmental degradation occurring

L I V I N G L A N D L I V I N G C U LT U R E – A B O R I G I N A L H E R I TA G E & S A L I N I T Y

2

in the NSW landscape. Salinity intersects withproblems like soil erosion, loss of biodiversity anddeclining water quality in complex ways. It can beboth a cause and a by-product of these problems.For this reason, this book presents ideas andcommentary on the issue of how natural resourcemanagement and planning more generallycan better intersect with, and recognise,cultural heritage.

Salinity is one of the most significant environmentalproblems in Australia today, and has the capacityto generate serious long-term social, environmentaland economic impacts. It challenges commonlyaccepted approaches to land-use and mayultimately force widespread change in how wemanage the environment and cultural heritage.

So far, the bulk of salinity research, planningand mitigation has addressed economic andbiophysical impacts. For example, significant efforthas been spent on trying to address effects onfarming systems, infrastructure and regionaleconomies. Some more limited research hasbeen conducted on the impacts on biodiversity.4

Far less consideration has been given to the effectof salinity on social and cultural values, be theytangible or intangible. The Aboriginal Heritage andSalinity Project is an effort to redress this imbalance.

Because salinity is a landscape-scale issue, it haspotentially significant ramifications for culturalheritage values in many regions of NSW. Salinityis a form of environmental degradation that nowthreatens the long-term viability of large areas ofagricultural and urban land, rivers and biodiversity.Its social implications are potentially vast and arenot restricted to farmers’ loss of livelihood andlifestyle. It can affect those living in regional townsand suburbs, and is today damaging water quality,remnant vegetation, playing fields, homes,infrastructure, historic buildings, parks, andpeople’s cultural landscapes.

Our approach to land management needs

to be shaped not just by economics or

science, but by an awareness of the

complex social values which shape people’s

attachment to place, and their approach

to land-use.

In general terms, salinity refers to the mobilisationof natural salts within our soils and water bodieswhich has been accelerated by land-use practicessuch as clearing, irrigating and cropping. It canmanifest itself in a variety of ways, including soilerosion, the death of vegetation and decline inwater quality.

Specific potential impacts on Aboriginal heritage arevaried. They include damage to a range of pre- andpost-contact sites, and the degradation of culturallyvalued landscape features. Salinity can reducepeople’s capacity to find and utilise wild foods andmedicines, and increase the threats to totemicspecies. It can jeopardise the economic viability ofAboriginal-owned lands and enterprises. It candamage services used by Aboriginal people suchas roads, pipelines and buildings. All of theseproblems can affect people’s health and well-being.

The project has involved two key components.The first is an overview of the potential effects ofsalinity on Aboriginal heritage places and values inNSW. This sets a context for the second component,a detailed case-study conducted with Wiradjuripeople in the Wellington area of Central West NSW.The Central West has been identified as one of theregions in NSW which has a significant salinityproblem. Others include the Hunter Valley, WesternSydney, and the irrigation areas of the south-west.

The case-study involved multi-faceted collaborativeresearch, and documents both the local impactsof environmental problems on cultural heritage andpotential strategies for dealing with them. Key resultsfrom the case-study include a compilation of importantcommunity knowledge and perspectives aboutenvironmental change, local Aboriginal history andaspirations for cultural renewal. They also includea detailed assessment of the effects of salinity onpre-contact open artefact scatters.

I N T R O D U C T I O N

3

Perhaps one of the strongest messages to

come out of this study is that landscapes,

and the social groups occupying them, are

constantly changing. Underlying such

change is evidence of continuity in people’s

sense of attachment to place and the ways

in which they seek to maintain a sense of

community and individual identity.

Both the overview and the case-study consider thebigger issue of how catchment management mightaccount for cultural values. Such analysis wasessential, as any management of Aboriginal heritageneeds to combine both local and catchment levelstrategies.

Importantly, looking at the bigger picture of landdegradation and strategic planning agrees with theway in which many people perceive environmentalproblems and their associated social impacts. Itsuited the perspective of the Wiradjuri people withwhom we worked during the case-study. Their viewof environmental problems and management isholistic, rather than reductionist, and is centredon concerns for a wider cultural landscape,rather than just isolated sites.

In keeping with this approach, the project hasavoided focusing solely on archaeological sites;it also considers a range of other issues or valuesthat can be considered as falling within the realmof “heritage”. They include people’s sense ofconnection to place, their identity, lifestyle andfeelings about the future.

A core element of this approach has been to lookin detail at the potential effect of salinity on people’suse of rivers and land. For example, some Wiradjuripeople in the Central West have maintained activitieslike hunting and gathering, and there is a generaldesire that they may continue to have access tothese and more valued resources. Land degradationin general has been one factor in reducing people’sability to find and utilise wild resources. Problemslike salinity may threaten such activity further.

The overview and case-study are the starting pointfor a detailed discussion of how salinity andenvironmental management might account for,and respect, cultural and social values. Overall,our approach to integrating cultural heritage intothis framework has been both broad-scale andpragmatic.

Underlying this approach is a belief that completeeradication of salinity and other related environmentalproblems is not achievable in any of the affectedcatchments in NSW. Instead, salinity managementshould focus on a series of priority areas andlandscapes.5

This focus is widened to a broader context bylooking at how catchment-scale planning canachieve effective cultural heritage outcomes.

Four key steps should be taken:

1 We should expand our land-use planningto consciously aim for social and culturalbenefits. For example, the link betweenenvironmental health and people's lifestyleand culture means that some objectives,like maintaining a river’s health, can achievecultural benefits. As another example, thestrategic protection of native vegetation inareas of high archaeological potential willcontribute a dual natural and culturalheritage outcome. Such links should besought out and seen as management aims.

2 We should make sure we have enoughinformation about cultural heritage valuesby increasing our participatory planningand social science research.

3 We should set specific cultural heritagemanagement targets for catchment and sub-catchments. For example, in areas like theCentral West, certain levels of archaeologicalresearch and site recording will be neededto offset ongoing effects from salinity on thearchaeological record.

4 We should also use cultural heritageindicators at catchment or sub-catchmentlevels so we can measure the culturalheritage outcomes of land-use decision-making and conservation planning overtime. These could apply on a town-by-townbasis and might include targets which includepeople’s ability to access and use a range ofwild resources, pass on cultural knowledge,and play a role in land management.


4

Adequate data about cultural heritage is

required to inform integrated planning.

By collecting appropriate data we can

measure the effectiveness of land

management decision-making and track

social impacts and benefits.

This book pays special attention to discussing howappropriate cultural heritage data can be collectedto support integrated planning.6 This elementfocuses on collecting information about pre-contactarchaeological sites, people’s concerns aboutcountry, the use of wild foods and medicines, andthe management of post-contact and historic sites.

By collecting appropriate information about culturalheritage, we may be in a better position to actuallymeasure whether our approach to land and heritagemanagement will generate real cultural and socialbenefits.

The book also explores how cultural heritagemanagement can mesh with catchment manage-ment. It shows where and how land managers andthe Aboriginal community may achieve this. A keymessage throughout the book is that makingeffective land management decisions that takeaccount of cultural heritage values requiresunderstanding how natural and cultural systemsintersect. How do people value the landscapearound them? What sorts of social impact doesland degradation generate? What social benefitsdoes effective environmental planning create?

The Aboriginal Heritage and Salinity Project hasprovided an opportunity to engage critically andclosely with many complex questions about howwe manage a diverse set of cultural values andplaces in the NSW landscape. The issue of salinityrequires this, as its effects are broad-ranging andhave significant implications for our ability to livesustainably in a landscape that has sufferedtremendous change since European settlement.

I N T R O D U C T I O N

5

7

Taking a holistic approach

Imagine standing on one of the tall

dunes at the Coorong on the coast of

South Australia. Below, you can see

the Murray River as it flows through

wetlands and lakes before entering

the heavy surf of the Southern Ocean.

Picture yourself standing at this point

looking down at the broad waters and

realising that this is where your life’s

experiences come together; where you

are able to recall at once many of the

places and memories you hold dear.

Evelyn Powell described being in such a positionwhen she visited the Coorong. Evelyn is anAboriginal woman who lives at Wellington,NSW.Born in 1933 at Brewarrina on the Barwon River,she spent much of her early life tracing a webof watercourses throughout Central West NSW.With her parents she travelled between towns,Aboriginal reserves and pastoral stations as theylooked for work or visited family. Setting up campnext to a creek, cray fishing at billabongs, washingin a river hole or catching yellow-belly for a mealwere everyday experiences. Later, Evelyn settled atBulgandramine and Peak Hill on the Bogan River,where she met and married her husband, FredPowell. It was here that they raised five children.Today she lives alongside the Macquarie River atNanima Village, the location of one of the oldestAboriginal reserves in NSW.

The rivers of Central West NSW are entwined withmany of the significant stages of Evelyn’s life, boththe hard and good times. As is the case for many

2 The AboriginalHeritage & Salinity Project

Left: Macquarie River near Wellington, NSW,1944. Photograph reproduced courtesy of Mitchell Library,State Library of New South Wales.

Above: Wiradjuri elder, Evelyn Powell, on the verandah of herhome in Nanima.

Aboriginal people in NSW, rivers are associatedwith the survival of cultural identity in the face ofassimilation policies of the pre- and post-war era.They connect people and country across broadareas.7 For Evelyn, the mouth of the Murray isa symbolic place in this web. From this point shecan see all of the rivers of her people merged asone, and can look back and appreciate the manyand varied experiences of her life.

Evelyn’s experience of the Coorong mirrors theapproach we have taken with this project. Herwords speak of the link between watercourses,land and people. From this perspective we canappreciate the need to take a holistic approachtowards environmental management that recognisesthe connection between cultural heritage and thecondition or health of the landscape. This holisticview, which spans the nature-culture divide, isnow potentially supported by aspects of Westernenvironmental management theory such as thefocus on “systems approaches”. Terms like“ecosystem management” and “integrated environ-mental management” are commonly used to referto this approach. They manage ecosystems as

complex entities that cannot be broken down into artificial components like vegetation, water oreven individual species.8 Rather, they acknowledgethe linkages or interdependence between theseelements and the role of humans in shaping them.

Such a perspective is especially relevant to theissue of salinity. Today, ecologists argue that majorenvironmental problems like salinity cannot bemanaged in isolation. Their inter-relationships andcomplex cumulative effects on the functioning ofecosystems need to be understood:

Ecologists who have documented the declineand loss of biodiversity and the change in eco-system processes are concerned that salinityand loss of biodiversity are often treated ascompletely separate issues. They are not, assalinity is an extremely visual manifestation ofthe loss of major elements of biodiversity andchange in ecosystem processes.9

The social and cultural impacts of problems likesalinity are also multi-faceted and as complex asimpacts on ecosystems. Evelyn’s words emphasise


8

Above: Landscape by Evelyn Powell, 2002. Drawing reproduced with permission of the artist.

T H E A B O R I G I N A L H E R I TA G E & S A L I N I T Y P R O J E C T

9

this. Her description of the Coorong triggered alonger story in which she expressed dismay at thedisappearance of wildlife, the dieback of trees andthe declining health of the rivers. Her journey hometo Wellington from the Coorong via the Riverina andMurray-Darling Basin took her through some of the most stressed landscapes of NSW. Her wordsexpress the effect that this country had upon her:

One of the disturbing things is that I’ve neverever seen the country like that. Where you justsee the masses of white. Like it was a cancereating away into everything as it went along.The gum trees were dying, and all the grass,and everything, like a lot of white salt orsomething … It’s really upsetting for me just tosee that salt. That white dirt eating away at theland. It’s just like a cancer, gobbling everythingup in its path. I’d never seen anything likeit before. It makes me feel no good inside,because when you relate to the land, in thespiritual, Aboriginal way, and seeing thesethings, it makes me feel no good.

Evelyn’s words paint a vivid picture of the destructivepotential of salinity. Her description of it being “likea cancer” illustrates how people see environmentaldegradation as a disease or sickness, linking it tothe human body. Her words reflect the view of manyAboriginal people who see the declining health oftheir country and the destruction of their culturalheritage as having an effect on their individual and their community’s health and well-being.10

Today, escalating problems like salinity are forcingus to reconsider the ways in which we use andmanage the land. A growing sense of urgencyand concern can be detected amongst scientists,primary producers, conservationists and othercommunity members about the sustainability of ourland-use practices.11 In this context, there are manypotential points of agreement between their viewsand those of Aboriginal people. All are aware ofthe fact that we must change our attitudes in orderto sustain our sense of community and to ensure a healthy environment for future generations.

The scope of such thinking is well illustrated by therecent report produced by a collection of “concernedscientists” who have named themselves theWentworth Group. Their document, Blueprint fora Living Continent, is a wake-up call for governmentand all Australians. The report emphasises thatwhile we have grown wealthy from over 200 years

of using and modifying the Australian environment,the time has come for change. They, like others,see a future only if we radically alter our land-usepractices and have the courage to overcomeshort-term perspectives by seeing the long-termramifications of inaction:

By giving power back to our communities,valuing the ecosystem services provided bynative vegetation, recognising the importance ofenvironmental flows in our rivers, and rewardingpeople for environmental stewardship, ourgeneration can leave a legacy of living riversand healthy landscapes, not drains anddustbowls.12

Clearly, problems like salinity need to be viewedas having a multi-faceted impact on our landscapeand society. Facing them will require crossingdisciplinary boundaries and making new linksbetween government, researchers and the community.While tools like economics and science will play amajor role in tackling these impacts, they can reallyonly be understood and confronted by also engagingwith people and their value systems.

The urgent need for change is highlighted by takingeven a quick look over our shoulder at how landmanagers 40 or 50 years ago were respondingto land degradation problems.The same calls foraction can be found back then and their similarityto the words used in the Wentworth Report is striking.Writers in a 1945 edition of the Journal of the SoilConservation Service of NSW were clearly aghast at the level of environmental problems they foundthemselves facing. The NSW Premier wrote:

We have in Australia a rich and beautiful land,but over the past 150 years we have in generaltaken tragically poor care of it. The prodigalityand indifference of man has resulted in manythousands of acres of grazing and arable landbeing over-cleared of trees, over-grazed andover-cultivated … We now know what ishappening; we have evidences everywherebefore our eyes.13

Since that time of course issues like salinity haveescalated many times over and now threaten largeparts of the country. It would seem that muchmore is needed than an awareness of the problem.

What then are the potential effects of salinity, andenvironmental degradation more generally, onAboriginal people and their cultural heritage inNSW? Because salinity is an issue of landscape

scale, it has potentially significant ramifications for the social and cultural values held by affectedcommunities. Such values may be associated withpeople’s way of life, their connection to place, andthe construction of their own identity. All people,Aboriginal or otherwise, identify with and value alocal landscape for a range of reasons. Tangibleand intangible values are expressed throughpeople’s concern for their livelihood, and the “look”and condition of the landscape. Land degradationhas an obvious impact on these values.

A cursory search of the Internet reveals that thereis a large and growing body of research into theeffects of salinity on biodiversity, rivers, infrastructureand farming systems. Such attention to biophysicalissues has not been matched by consideration ofsocial or cultural impacts. In part, this is becausesocial impacts have largely been defined in economicterms and reflected in research frameworks thatconsider salinity’s potential effects on farm incomeand regional economies. To a large extent, thissituation mirrors the fact that research into environ-mental problems more generally in NSW has tendedto shy away from exploring social impacts.

The lack of attention to broader social issuesreflects a long-standing challenge to manage ourenvironment with an awareness of local people’sknowledge and the link between land, culturalvalues and the well-being of all those who rely onit. How do we foster action that not only recognisesthe role of local communities in engenderingchange, but which also spans the current gapbetween the natural and social sciences in applied research? Such a challenge is indicative of the fact that historically, even holistic environ-mental management theories such as ecosystemmanagement,14 which received significant attentionin the 1990s, have not been understood andapplied in ways that bridge the gap betweennatural and social systems.

There is now a very active debate going on incountries such as Australia, Canada, New Zealandand the United States about how natural resourcemanagement can engage with, and consider, socialvalues and impacts. Land management is nowconfronted by the need to recognise the influenceof participatory society where various interestgroups challenge management decisions andframeworks. These groups are often very vocal in their criticism of government land management

practices. Government in turn has recognised thateffective land management can only be achievedwith the support and involvement of local people.As a result, many agencies are now promotingconcepts like collaborative management andcommunity involvement.15

This brings with it a whole spectrum of challengesand opportunities that have begun to reshapesome of the key elements of agency practice. Suchchange however has not been a consistent processand is typified more by sporadic attention. Somecommentators have argued that many barriersstand in the way of a framework for effective socialassessment. These barriers reflect the power oflong-standing sectoral approaches to environ-mental management and a lack of social sciencecapacity within government agencies.16

The magnitude of the salinity problem in Australiaprovides the best impetus imaginable to begintackling this problem, and the Aboriginal Heritageand Salinity Project provides one opportunity toconfront this challenge. Its scope has required us to actively consider strategies that acknowledgethe link between natural and cultural values.

Importantly, the project occurred at a time when theNSW government, landowners and communitieswere negotiating catchment management. Initiallythis resulted in the development of various formsof natural resource management planning, such as catchment blueprints. Later restructuring ofgovernment departments has led to a reassessmentof such documents and the administrative frame-works they proposed. Nevertheless, catchmentplanning remains a potentially significant elementof land management in NSW. This book attemptsto explore how Aboriginal heritage places andvalues can be recognised in catchment planning.The ideas and principles set out here transcendthe still-evolving detail of land-use planning andregulation in NSW.

At the same time, there is growing evidence of agradual broadening in the scope of salinity-relatedresearch. The focus on the biophysical andeconomic implications of salinity is occasionallybeing expanded by research programs thatexplore the social dimensions of land-use andsalinity management. For example, projects areemerging which have investigated landownerperceptions of salinity. Specifically, the capacityof landowners to recognise the problem and the


10

effects their views about land management mighthave on encouraging land-use change.19 Theseprograms are important as they begin to blendelements of natural and social science research,and acknowledge the strong influence of humanvalue systems on environmental health and land-use practices.

Equally, some specific analysis of cultural heritagehas also looked at the effects of urban salinity.These studies have been focused on issuesassociated with built heritage, gardens and streettrees. They have also acknowledged the potentialimpact of salinity upon intangible values linked topeople’s sense of place. However, like other socialresearch in this area, these programs have notspecifically addressed values associated withAboriginal heritage.20

The main purpose of the Aboriginal Heritage and Salinity Project has been to fill this gap.The following questions form the basis of theproject: How do we define and identify the effectsof salinity upon Aboriginal heritage? Can wequantify these effects? Is it possible to protect allAboriginal sites and places from the effects ofsalinity? If not, how can we reduce or counter itsimpact? Do we need to devise new strategies andactions, or do existing planning mechanismsprovide enough direction? Finally, how can weinclude cultural heritage management in ourenvironmental management practices at bothcatchment and property scales?

Underlying our approach has been the need toemphasise the link between cultural heritage andthe broader landscape. Recognising this link hastwo important outcomes. First, it allows us toexplore and assess the relationship between land-use planning and heritage so that it encompasses

cultural landscapes. Second, it emphasises a rolefor Aboriginal people in land management whichhas the potential to achieve results that are valuedby the community and tied to people’s way of life.By doing so, we may begin to acknowledge thestrongly held feelings and beliefs of people likeEvelyn Powell.

Project aims

One of the key aims of this project is to

examine how Aboriginal heritage values

and places can be factored into salinity

management and related land-use planning.

As noted above, the project has been designedprimarily to assess elements of salinity’s social andcultural effects. Given the scale and nature of theproblem, the effects on Aboriginal heritage may bevery broad. Ultimately, this research project aims to develop strategies for recognising, reducing andpreventing these effects.

The project has three key aims:

1 to assess in broad terms the effect ofsalinity and its management on Aboriginalheritage values and places in NSW

2 to assess how Aboriginal heritage valuesand places can be considered duringsalinity management and related land-useplanning; and

3 to provide landowners, Aboriginal peopleand government with information abouthow salinity affects Aboriginal heritage and how these impacts can be planned for and mitigated.

The project has been funded by the NSW SalinityStrategy and fits within the broad aims of this strategywhich are to ensure that the state generally hashealthy ecosystems, sustainable land and water use and “secure, sustainable and prosperouscommunities”.21 These words indicate a willingnessto provide for the link between human value systems,lifestyles and the environment. On this reading, theSalinity Strategy will support research and actionwhich recognises that purely scientific or technicalconsiderations need to be balanced by attention tosocial and cultural values.


11

Above: Areas affected by salinity near Lake Wyangan in theMurrumbidgee Irrigation Area, NSW, 1991. CSIRO Land and Water.

Who can use this book?

This book is directed at everyone interested

in addressing the relationship between

environmental degradation and Aboriginal

heritage values. It aims to meet a balance

between summarising key issues and

providing enough data and discussion to

ensure it can serve as a source for further

research and action.

The book is for Aboriginal people, staff in governmentagencies and key groups, such as CatchmentManagement Authorities. In writing this book wehave aimed to meet a balance between summarisingkey issues and providing enough data and discussionto ensure it can serve as a source for furtherresearch and action. The book is directed to thosewho are seeking to address the relationship betweenenvironmental degradation and heritage values.At the same time, it is hoped that it will help thosepeople who spend most of their time assessingbiophysical or economic issues by providing a cleardiscussion of how their work can affect, and beinfluenced by, cultural values.

Such an audience is vital, since promoting inter-disciplinary and holistic approaches to salinitymanagement will play a key role in strengtheningour capacity to tackle its many implications forsocial, environmental and economic systems.To further this aim, the book explicitly assesseshow cultural heritage can become an integralcomponent of existing planning and regulatorymechanisms which focus on natural resourcemanagement issues.

Steps forwardThe structure of this project has been guided by itsbroad definition of Aboriginal heritage, which extendswell beyond the management of archaeological sitesto include dynamic relationships between people,place and landscape. To account for this perspective,the project has combined different research tools,including oral history, archaeological investigation,

cross-agency liaison and aspects of participatoryplanning.

In our first year (2001-2002) we focused onunderstanding the general relationship betweensalinity and Aboriginal heritage. This was necessaryas initial investigation revealed that there has notbeen any previous attempt in NSW at similarresearch. Accordingly, the present chapter providesgeneral information about salinity and its expectedeffects on classes of archaeological sites, historicand traditional places, landscape values and elementsof Aboriginal people’s social and economic well-being.

Chapter 3 presents a case-study from the CentralWest region of NSW carried out during 2002 and2003. This region is one of the most salinity-affected areas of NSW, and has also been the sceneof significant management effort by the Departmentof Infrastructure, Planning and Natural Resources(formerly the Department of Land and WaterConservation – DLWC).23 The case-study wasdesigned to look in more detail at both Aboriginalcommunity perceptions of environmental problemsand their impact on lifestyle and cultural values.The study was based in the Wellington localgovernment area. It focused on:

1 investigating community attachments tothe landscape, flora and fauna in the areaby undertaking oral history interviews, fieldtrips and historical research

2 liaising with the local Salt Action Team tolearn about the scope of salinity and discussoptions for integrating cultural heritage intosalinity management

3 liaising with the manager of Planning Services,Wellington Shire Council, to establishcouncil’s approach to salinity managementand options for using council processes tomanage salinity and cultural heritage; and

4 targeting archaeological research and siterecording to clarify the nature and distributionof Aboriginal sites in the study area and theimpacts of salinity on their future.

It is expected that the outcomes of the case-studywill be relevant to other salinity-affected parts ofNSW, or at least illustrate the issues involved. It also serves as a potential model for culturalheritage research in other areas, potentially usingfunds that may become available from government.

The future intention is to expand on these results by making them available to a wide range of groups


12

associated with salinity management. For example,effort will be placed on disseminating the informationgained during the project to staff in governmentdepartments, local councils and Aboriginal organi-sations. This book plays a key role in this process.

Major challengesThis project shares many challenges with otherresearch programs designed to assess the nature,causes, impacts and management of salinity. Chiefamongst these is the sheer scale of the salinityproblem, and the many difficulties involved indetermining its current and predicted extent. Thisis complicated by the fact that our understandingof the causes of salinity and how it spreads is stilldeveloping.

Coupled with this is the overriding challenge thatthe long-term management of salinity is going torequire rethinking the way we use the land andvalue our environment. Addressing salinity thereforerequires cutting to the heart of many intenselypolitical and emotive debates about the role ofgovernment, landowners and wider society infunding and implementing sustainable landmanagement. There appears to be generalacceptance that current farming systems, evenwhen using best practice, will not be able to controlthe onset and worsening of salinity.24 Many barriersto achieving effective change in land-use practiceshave been identified. They include communityattitudes, lack of economic incentive, limitedunderstanding about sustainable land-use practices,and the paucity of reliable data about salinity.25

Attempting to raise concerns about cultural heritagemanagement in this context is far from easy. It iscrucial that we be sensitive to the fact that land-owners may perceive such a move as anotherunwanted constraint on production or a potentialfinancial impact. Such a challenge forces us tomanage cultural heritage in a new way and to lookfor opportunities to use emerging land-use systemsto achieve cultural benefits.

One of the arguments made here is that approachesto Aboriginal heritage management, that havefocused on the assessment of individual archae-ological sites, are not strategic and will not fit easilywith future landscape- or catchment-scale planning.A much more creative and comprehensive approachis required.

Many of the other challenges that have confrontedthe Aboriginal Heritage and Salinity project derivefrom the fact that it has involved cross-culturalresearch. They have included:

– a lack of social impact assessment researchin NSW that can be used to guide theinvestigation

– a lack of up-to-date salinity mapping for boththe case-study region and NSW generally

– finding landowners who were willing to letus record Aboriginal sites and assess theimpact of salinity on them

– addressing concerns by Aboriginal peopleabout making the location of Aboriginal sitesknown, in case they are purposely destroyed

– addressing concerns by Aboriginal peopleabout sharing environmental knowledge.


13

Above: Salt scald near Wellington, NSW. Alan Nicholson and Juliet Corish (DLWC) with Syd Crayhorn (Wellington Shire Council).

For example, Wiradjuri people taking partin the project expressed concern abouthow information about bush medicineswill be used and controlled; and

– developing workable management strategiesthat link natural and cultural resourcemanagement within a regulatory systemcharacterised by a complex mix of statutesand land-use policies.26

Definition of cultural heritage

“Cultural heritage consists of places and

objects which are valued by the community.

As well as buildings and landscapes, it

includes objects representing traditional

ways of life and symbols of events which

have touched communities.”27

To appreciate the scope of the project, it is necessaryto understand how we define the term “culturalheritage”. This has shaped both the researchmethodology and the breadth of issues consideredby the project. We support a broad definition, such as that given in the quote above. Such a definitionobviously extends heritage well beyond a limitedfocus on pre-contact archaeological sites.

The Cultural Heritage Division of the Department of Environment and Conservation has argued for a broad definition of cultural heritage values inNSW. Its research shows there is a complex set ofvalues tied to broader landscapes. In particular,this research has explored the nature of Aboriginalpeople’s post-contact heritage and the culturalvalues that Aboriginal people associate with theenvironment and biodiversity.28 Elements of thisresearch have responded to the agency’s statedrecognition that Aboriginal heritage is indivisible fromthe “natural” environment.29 The Aboriginal Heritageand Salinity Project continues in the same mould.

As well as having broad scope, we see Aboriginalheritage as encompassing a living culture that iscontinually adapting and developing over time. The label of “heritage” is not restricted to places orevents associated with the period before Europeansettlement. It also includes historic and contemporaryplaces and values, as well as people’s aspirations

for the future. Under this definition, heritageencompasses everything from historic structures to contemporary interaction with the land and sea,and even elements of community health. Revealingthis heritage requires tapping into community-basedknowledge through oral history, archaeological andhistorical research, and participative planning.

Once a broad view of Aboriginal heritage is accepted,it is clear that the range of places and values tiedto NSW landscapes can only be managed by linkingthe consideration of natural and cultural heritage.The management of water, soils, vegetation andland-use directly affects cultural heritage, and inways which extend well beyond issues tied toarchaeological sites. If the health of our ecosystemsdecline, the social and cultural impacts felt will bediverse and far-reaching. This reality creates animpetus for exploring how cultural values can beconsidered during catchment and park planning,regional vegetation management, and Environ-mental Impact Assessment (EIA).

What is salinity?Salinity is destroying a significant part of ourAustralian landscapes. It is a serious threat tobiodiversity as it damages our native species,ecological communities and functioning eco-systems. It is predicted that salinity will affect17 million hectares in Australia by 2050, including2 million hectares of remnant vegetation.30

It is important at the outset to discuss what salinityis and where it is thought to occur in NSW. There issome debate about what causes salinity. In general,it can be defined as the accumulation of free salts ina landscape to the point where it damages vegetation,water quality and soil structure.31 As well as affectingthe environment, it also directly damages crops,roads, pipes, structures and open spaces like parksand playing fields.

Australia’s geological history means that vast storesof salt exist in our soils and watertable, and indeed,salinity can be a natural part of our environment.It has become the problem it is today due to humanland-use practices. The ways in which we havedeveloped our industries and towns have literallybrought salt to the surface.

It appears that salinity was first recognised in NSWin the late 19th century when railway engineersfound that the reservoirs built to service steamtrains were becoming increasingly saline. As early


14

as 1897, the link between clearing and salinity wasidentified in south-eastern Australia.32 In subsequentdecades, farmers and soil conservationists raisedthe alarm. For example, in the 1950s, areas of thesouthern tablelands of NSW were the subject ofmanagement action.33 Despite such early awareness,for many years response to the problem involvedonly sporadic action. It did not gather pace untilthe late 1980s and early 1990s, when agencieslike the NSW Soil Conservation Service and laterDLWC started specific salinity-based projects. Bythis stage, salinity was well established acrossmany parts of NSW.34

As our understanding of the scale of the problemhas grown, it has become more common to seeregular stories about salinity in newspapers or ontelevision.35 Many of us are familiar with picturesof moon-like landscapes formed by salt scalds and the death of native vegetation. Equally, publicawareness of the health of our inland rivers hasgrown over the last decade in the face of crises likedrought and outbreaks of blue-green algae. Salinityhas been a central element of government andcommunity discussion and debate about waterquality.36

Our understanding of the spread and potential threatof salinity in NSW is limited, but it is estimated thatbetween 120,000 and 174,000 hectares are alreadyaffected. Key salinity-affected regions includeWestern Sydney, the Hunter Valley, and the CentralWest and South West. Over one million hectareswill be affected in NSW alone by 2050.37 Therecent Australian Bureau of Statistics (ABS) surveySalinity on Australian Farms indicates that acrossthe country, 20,000 farms and two million hectaresof agricultural land are showing signs of salinity. Of these, 3108 farms lie in NSW and the ACT.38

Observers commonly state that due to the scale of the problem, salinity cannot be eradicated.Instead we will need to live with salt and focus on remediation by directing our effort toward themanagement of priority areas within catchments.39

The severity of salinity is influenced by a variety of interrelated factors including land-use, soil type,geology, topography, ground-water reserves andclimate.40

Five types of salinity have been defined; dryland,irrigation, urban, river and industrial. Dryland andirrigation salinity are primarily the result of clearingand cropping. The removal of deep-rooted nativevegetation and its replacement with shallow-rooted

crops has allowed greater amounts of water to leakinto the ground-water system. This leads to a rise inground-water that brings natural salts to the surfacein the form of saline seepages. Waterlogging of largeareas can result, as well as the death of remnantnative vegetation. Factors influencing the appearanceof seepages are the presence of soils with poorinternal drainage or impervious subsoil horizons,or interruptions in subsoil flow such as roads,embankments and tracks. Salinity outbreaks usuallyoccur in low-lying areas, in drainage depressions or along changes in slope.

Salinity can also appear as large areas of erosionand scalding. Scalds generally occur on fine-textured soils in areas of flat terrain. The flow-oneffects of these can include increased soil erosionand, in turn, further decline in ecosystem health.41

In addition, salty ground-water can flow directlyinto streams, thereby affecting the health of drainagesystems. This is referred to as river salinity and isa major concern in many areas of the Murray-Darling Basin. Research on river salinity is exploringthe current and potential impact of increased saltloads on aquatic biodiversity, and human use ofwater in the home and in urban and rural industries.It is estimated that a number of rivers in the Murray-Darling Basin including the Macquarie, Namoi,Bogan, Lachlan and Castlereagh, will exceed theinternational salt threshold for drinking waterquality within the next 50 years.42

Finally, salinity not only affects agricultural landsand environmental features. Urban salinity isalso now familiar to many people in the form ofdamaged roads, houses and services across manyparts of NSW.43 The damage caused to the infra-structure of towns and suburbs is very costly forcouncils and ratepayers. A survey of local councils


15

Above: Salt scald under regeneration near Wellington, NSW.

$1.4b salinity action planmisses a third of land affectedFARMS IN CRISISThe Age,12 December 2002By Melissa Fyfe,Environment Reporter

The Federal Government's$1.4 billion national actionplan for salinity does notcover a third of the nation'ssalinity-affected land, a sur-vey has revealed.

The Bureau of Statisticsreport, Salinity on AustralianFarms, has found that700,000 hectares of salineland are outside the regionsidentified under the NationalAction Plan for Salinity andWater Quality. ``That didcome as a bit of a surprise,''said survey director BobHarrison.

The report is from the 2002Land Management andSalinity Survey.Almost 20,000farmers took part in the study,the largest of its type under-taken in Australia.The surveyrelied on farmers to reporttheir salinity-affected land.

The report confirmedVictoria's status as one of theworst salinity-affected states,with 60,000 hectares alreadyrendered unusable.Almost 14per cent of the state's farms -4834 properties – are show-ing some signs of salinity.

With half its farms affected,Western Australia has thenation's biggest salinity prob-lem. But Victoria equals WAin terms of the percentage –1.1 per cent – of land that issalinity-affected.

One of Victoria's worstsaline areas is the Avoca-Loddon-Campaspe regions,where almost 40 per cent ofthe area's irrigated farms and19 per cent of its non-irri-gated farms are showingsigns of salinity.

There was some goodnews. The survey showedthat 29,669 of the nation'sfarmers – out of 140,000 -were changing their landpractices. ``These farmershave already done an enor-mous amount of work tomanage and alleviate theimpact of salinity,'' MrHarrison said.

Keeping farms sustainablewas the key reason farmersnominated for changingtheir land practices.

The farmers surveyedidentified lack of money andtime as the most limitingbarriers to changing theirland practices.

While 94 per cent ofVictoria's salinity-affectedland was inside the NationalAction Plan regions, half ofSouth Australia's saline land

was outside the plan's reach,Mr Harrison said.

FARMS AND SALINITY• 20,000 farms or two mil-

lion hectares of agriculturalland show signs of salinity.

• 800,000 hectares is unusablefor agricultural production.

• Western Australia is mostaffected by salinity, with7000 farms and 1.2 millionhectares showing salinesigns.

• Non-irrigated farms makeup 1.8 million hectares, or93 per cent, of the landshowing signs of salinity.

• 82 per cent of the farmsshowing signs of salinitywere used for beef cattle,sheep and grain growing.

in 1993 revealed that $8.2 million was spent ontackling salinity-induced damage to roads, bridgesand other public assets.44 In Wagga Wagga, it isestimated that up to 500 houses are affected and it is possible now to even undertake a “salinitytour” of the town where both the impacts andattempts to address the problem can be viewedfirst-hand.45

Salinity therefore is not simply a problem facedby farmers. It can affect whole communities andecosystems and will certainly become more familiarto Australians as the problem worsens.

Available data on the locationof salinity in NSWAn independent consultancy firm, EcologicalAustralia Pty Ltd, was commissioned during thisproject to assess the scope and quality of spatialand supporting data available on the distributionof salinity-affected lands in NSW.46 This was seenas a crucial part of the project, as without suchinformation it is difficult to gauge the current orpotential affects of salinity on Aboriginal heritage.

A more detailed and comprehensive audit ofsalinity data was completed as part of the NPWSSalinity and Biodiversity Study being undertakenin the Central West. This audit explored the rangeand reliability of dryland salinity data in four inland catchments: the Central West, Lachlan,Murrumbidgee and Murray.47

Both investigations indicated that, with someexceptions, only broad-scale spatial data is availableand that this has been collected using methods thatare not necessarily compatible.The more detailedaudit concluded that the approach to salinitymapping in the four catchments it studied was“piecemeal and disconnected” and had notachieved results suited to comprehensive naturalresource management.48 Some of this data hasbeen used in the NSW Salinity Strategy to producebroad-scale maps indicating the possible locationof salinity-affected areas in 2000, 2020 and 2050.However, the scale of this mapping makes itimpossible to use as a detailed planning tool.

Localised salinity mapping on a smaller scale hasbeen done in various catchments, either as part of

Landcare projects or by the Department ofInformation, Planning and Natural Resources –DIPNR. Personnel from Orange and Wellingtonwere able to provide the Aboriginal Heritage andSalinity Study with salinity-outbreak mapping formuch of the Wellington case-study area. This datahas been collected through a combination of aerialphoto interpretation, on-farm inspections and road-based surveys. The data has been mapped at a scale of 1:50,000 but is of varying age andconsistency.49 The information is organised againsta set of fields which categorise different stages, or visual signs of salinity, including waterlogging,scalding and vegetation change. It appears that thedata set collated by DIPNR in the Central West isone of the most advanced at a local level.

By using this information, we have been able tomake preliminary statements about the relationshipbetween salinity, known pre-contact archaeologicalsites, and a tentative predictive archaeologicalmodel in the Wellington area. It would seem howeverthat our ability to extend this type of analysis to otherparts of NSW would be limited by a complete


17

Above: Trees killed by salinity in the Barmah State Forest inthe Riverina, South West NSW.

Left: Article by Melissa Fyfe, environment reporter; published inThe Age, 12 December 2002.

absence of salinity mapping or the presence of only patchy, coarse-scale data-sets.

Salinity mapping continues to occur in othercontexts and there appears to be significant debateabout how best to develop reliable data. Suchwork must confront complex issues such as themapping of ground-water systems and the needfor further information about the influence ofdifferent soil types, landforms, land-use andvegetation types on the occurrence of salinity.

The salinity management agendaThe management of salinity is a complex processwhich needs to reflect variation in local environmentsand land-use characteristics. Current research andplanning on salinity is widespread but lacks co-ordination. Discussing cultural heritage in this contextreceives little attention.

It is important to understand the views of governmentand scientists about how best to manage salinity.This provides a context for understanding boththe scale of current management actions, and theirpotential benefits for heritage values.

Today, salinity is recognised by both the federaland state governments as a major issue. In NSW,government attention is best encapsulated by theNSW Salinity Strategy, which aims to develop acoordinated approach to managing the problem.50

This strategy grew out of a Salinity Summit heldin Dubbo in 1999 that brought together landowners,government, Aboriginal people and conservationbodies. It argues that a range of actions is required to slow down the spread of salinity.51 It states that:

– native vegetation must be protectedand managed

– land-use practices should reduce theuse of water

– water itself should be used more efficiently– engineering solutions will be required in

some areas – land affected by salt should be used more

effectively; and– effort should be focused on higher priority

salinity hazard landscapes.

The Salinity Strategy identifies eight key tools thatcan achieve these objectives. One involves settingend-of-valley salinity targets to indicate the level ofsalinity that communities and government feel theycan live with. Catchment Management Boards (now Catchment Management Authorities) were

given the role of reviewing and setting targets, andrecommending the actions required to achieve them.

Other key tools include using market-based solutionsand developing business opportunities such asthe development of salt-tolerant crops and salineagroforestry. Built into the promotion of such actionsis acceptance that the clearing and managementof vegetation has a direct link to salinity. Salinityimpact assessment may become a factor in gainingapproval for future clearing.

At a planning level, the Salinity Strategy identifiesthe need to link salinity management to otherregulatory mechanisms such as water licensingand Local Environmental Plans. Other documents,such as Catchment Action Plans can build on thework already done by Regional Water and VegetationCommittees.

Within this complex mix of strategies and actions,there is an opportunity to integrate cultural heritageand social issues into salinity and catchmentplanning. As we will argue later, such an approachis essential if real cultural heritage outcomes are tobe achieved, especially in salinity-affected regions.

At a more localised level, it appears that themanagement of salinity on the ground has fourprimary components:

1 the alteration of cropping andirrigation practices

2 revegetation3 engineering works; and4 alternative land-use/management.

Current thinking is that a combination of theseactivities will be required in all affected regions.Importantly, the lag time between such actions anda reduction in salinity impacts may be significant.This will depend on an array of factors including thenature of local soils, vegetation, land-use historyand ground-water systems. Research programs are supporting all four localised strategies. Moreefficient ways of using water are being developedand applied. In dryland areas, efficient water-usewill need to involve the management of remnantvegetation, revegetation and different farmingpractices.52

The appropriate use of vegetation to managesalinity is subject to debate. Questions about where,what and how many trees should be planted in thelandscape are still being explored.53 The ABS surveySalinity on Farms shows that 91,000 hectares inNSW and the ACT have been revegetated in recent


18

years as a direct response to salinity problems. It is expected that some of this would have involvedagroforestry. This compares with the figure of776,000 hectares nationally.

Engineering solutions are also being employed insome areas and may involve either large or small-scale actions. At one extreme, they can involveextensive salt interception schemes such as thatin the Wakool area in south-western NSW. Atanother level they may involve the small-scale useof pumps, ditches, drains and dams. The ABSsurvey indicates that 208,000 kilometres ofearthworks, such as levees, banks and drains,have been constructed across the country to dealwith salinity. Of this, 43,000 kilometres were builtin NSW and the ACT. Currently, such actions areseen as being potentially costly and unable toprovide long-term solutions. Large-scale workshave primarily been restricted to irrigation areas or regions where water resources are threatened.In some cases they have been successful in allowingthe extraction of ground water or salt for later use.54

Finally, as awareness of the scale and implicationsof the salinity issue grows, there seems to beincreasing emphasis on the idea of major land-usechange as a primary management option. This caninclude taking land out of production for conservationor tourism purposes. It has been noted that “theconservation effort of private landholders is essentialin complementing what can be achieved throughnational parks and other conservation areas”.55

To further this aim, government is also exploringthe idea of salinity and biodiversity credits, wherebylandowners obtain financial incentives for retainingareas for landscape protection. However, it hasbeen argued, those economic incentives on theirown “will not enable biodiversity conservation andsalinity mitigation targets to be achieved”. Instead,they “need to be integrated with other instrumentssuch as revolving funds, regulations and continuededucation programs” if they are to be effective.56

Clearly, managing salinity is a very complexprocess and will need to reflect variation in localenvironments and land-use characteristics.

Potential effects of salinity on Aboriginal heritage

Salinity is part of a complex web of landscape

change that first manifests itself in areas

that have been modified by human land-

use over a long time. In many cases salinity

can represent an impact to cultural heritage

values that have already been severely

affected by decades of land-use. In other

cases, salinity can destroy a place or value,

which may otherwise have been retained

in the landscape.

Salinity in context The sections below explore the potential impactof salinity on a range of Aboriginal heritage placesand values. At the outset it is important to makeclear that our discussion is set within an overallassessment of the relationship between Aboriginalheritage and environmental degradation. It is possibleto isolate some of the direct effects of salinity onAboriginal heritage. Nevertheless, salinity is part of a complex web of landscape change and generallymanifests itself first in areas that have been modifiedby human land-use over a relatively long time. This modification may have taken a variety of formssuch as the loss of vegetation and biodiversity, anda decline in water quality and soil structure. Theseeffects may eventually culminate in, or contribute to,a salinity problem.

For this reason it would be false to imply that all of the damage to Aboriginal heritage values wediscuss in this section are solely the result of salinity.Rather, salinity can represent an impact on heritagevalues that have already been severely affected bydecades of land-use. A classic example would bewhere salinity-induced waterlogging kills a scarredtree which had been slowly dying because ofsurrounding ploughing. In this situation salinity will accelerate the loss of a heritage place.

In other situations salinity will cause the loss of a place or value which may otherwise have been


19

retained in the landscape. For example, it mayprompt the death of a stand of healthy nativevegetation that has been protected from clearingand which acts as a source of bush food for a localAboriginal community. Without the onset of salinitythis vegetation may have survived. In the same way,salinity may generate soil erosion and the associatedloss of sub-surface archaeological deposits that hadnot previously been affected by farming.

Salinity and its effect on the landscape cannot beisolated from the overall condition of an ecosystemor the forces changing ecosystem health. Viewingsalinity in this wider context not only makes sensewhen we consider the processes that cause salinity.It also matches the response of the Wiradjuriinterviewees during the Wellington case-study who talked not only about specific environmentalproblems, but also about how these problemsoverlap to create a general decline in catchmenthealth. Equally, many of the management actionsthat are being put forward to tackle or mitigatesalinity are also designed to have an array ofpositive environmental results that extend beyond

salinity issues. As an example, in some cases themanagement of remnant vegetation to help controlthe rise of the watertable may also promotebiodiversity conservation and help limit localisedsoil erosion.

Scope of effectsHaving established that salinity is part of a systemof landscape change, we can look in some detailat how the actual manifestation of salinity mightdirectly affect Aboriginal heritage values. What,for example, are the effects of salinity-inducedwaterlogging, vegetation loss and soil erosion? Whilethe overview given here highlights the range ofimpacts that need to be considered, it must beremembered that it cannot account for variation in local conditions.

Understanding the potential impact of salinity ismade easier if it is appreciated that a broad rangeof Aboriginal places and values will exist, even inlandscapes with a long history of European land-use. Heritage places and landscapes do not simplyoccur in protected areas like National Parks.


20

Above: Erosion in the Central West, 1940s. The disturbance here would have affected Aboriginal heritage and is an example of thefact that damage to heritage places and landscape values have been felt for decades. Mitchell Library, State Library of New South Wales.

Indeed, most people are aware that pre-contactarchaeological sites can survive in farmed landscapesand can even be found in the suburbs of Sydney.Equally important is the fact that Aboriginal peoplehave continued to interact with these landscapessince European settlement through work, familylife, recreation and the continuation of culturalpractices. The remnant stand of food plants in a roadside reserve, the shearing shed whereAboriginal people worked for generations or thefishing hole which people continue to use today are signposts to the presence of a dynamic andcontinually evolving Aboriginal identity. Because ofits landscape-scale impact, salinity, like other formsof environmental degradation, can therefore representa significant threat to a range of heritage placesand to people’s contemporary lifestyle.

The sections below consider impacts to pre- andpost-contact places, people’s connection to countryand the well-being of local communities. It isimportant to realise that while the discussion isbroken down in this way, many places can combinean array of values or features and need to beconsidered holistically. As an example, an historiccampsite can combine wild foods and structuralremains together with evidence of pre-contactoccupation in the form of stone artefacts and burials.

Archaeological sites Aboriginal archaeological sites form a centralelement of the cultural heritage of this country.Stone artefact scatters, rock art, burials and itemssuch as scarred trees can be highly valued byboth Aboriginal people and the wider Australiancommunity. For Aboriginal people, they providea tangible link with the past and in some casescontinue to be places that are visited, used andactively cared for.

These types of place are often highly fragile andsusceptible to natural processes and human actions.They are embedded in the fabric of our landscape,in soil profiles, the bark of trees and the surface ofrock shelters. This makes them especially vulnerableto problems like soil erosion, fire and salinity.Countless sites have already been destroyed in NSWby rural and urban development, but thousandssurvive in varying conditions.

As discussed, many sites that are now threatenedby salinity are likely to have already been affectedby other forces. Artefact scatters may have beendisturbed by earthworks, ploughing and soil erosion.Scarred trees may have been killed by fire. Rock

art sites may have been damaged by animals orby wind erosion.

Having said this, the potential impact of salinity onarchaeological sites should not be underestimated.As an example, the accelerated soil erosion andvegetation loss that salinity can cause across large areas can affect surface and sub-surfacearchaeological deposits, burials, and other sitesover significant portions of the landscape. Incombination with intensified or unsustainable land-use practices, salinity may prove to be one of themost insidious impacts on archaeological sites in the NSW landscape.

A summary of the effects of salinity on differenttypes of archaeological sites is given in the tableat the end of Chapter 3.

Actions associated with the revegetation orstabilisation of salinity outbreaks and scalds maysometimes cause disturbance to archaeologicalmaterial. However, the overall outcome of thisremediation may enable us to protect relatively intactsites in areas not yet affected by land degradation.Managing the impact of salinity on archaeological


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Above: A dead scarred tree in a landscape showing the effectsof salinity. The oval scar indicates where bark may have beenremoved to make a shield or coolamon.

sites will therefore need to involve a careful balancebetween strategic landscape management and theprotection or assessment of individual sites. TheWellington case-study (Chapter 3) and the chapteron salinity management (Chapter 4) address thisissue in detail.

Historic sites Heritage practitioners have tended to think ofthe pre-1788 period as ‘belonging’ to Aboriginalheritage and the post-1788 as ‘belonging’ tosettler heritage. This has led to the peculiarsituation in which the term ‘historic heritage’has come to stand for non-indigenous heritageonly. The NPWS is now moving to ‘expand’Aboriginal heritage out of the pre-contact andinto the historic (post-1788) period.57

Today, agencies such as the Department of Environ-ment and Conservation (NSW) are increasinglyemphasising the recognition of Aboriginal people’spost-contact experience. This reflects awareness of the need to understand Aboriginal people’sheritage as being alive and dynamic. The DEC is now carrying out research to identify and recordplaces associated with the post-contact period.These can include missions, an area associatedwith people’s working lives, and sites associatedwith protest, discrimination, education and culturalpractices such as hunting and gathering. At alarger scale, the very form of a landscape canrepresent an element of people’s sense of heritage.The fence lines, shearing sheds and properties that characterise our rural areas often have anAboriginal history.

All of these places and landscapes can potentiallyface damage from salinity. For example, researchhas already shown that salinity can corrode historicstructures, kill street trees and damage urbanparks. All of these features may form an importantelement of local Aboriginal heritage and history.This might include houses where families havegrown up, the local cinema, shop, or Land Counciloffice. As an example, in the Wellington case-studydiscussed later in this book, a number of structuresin the town are associated with Aboriginal people’shistory and contemporary activities. They includeKnuckey’s Store, where rations were distributeduntil the 1960s, the Aboriginal Medical Centre, and CDEP office.

As noted earlier, urban salinity has become evidentin many rural towns such as Wagga Wagga and in

the suburbs of western Sydney.59 It is estimatedthat 954 hectares of built-up areas in the Murray-Darling Basin are currently affected by shallowwatertables. This is predicted to rise to 3600hectares by 2050.60 Poor water use and leakagefrom water, sewer and storm-water systems cancause rising watertables in urban areas. As a result,structures can experience periodic wetting anddrying which can cause clay base materials inparticular to swell and shrink. Eventually, saltcrystals can form within a building’s fabric andcause cracking, spalling and fretting. Heritagestructures made of older-style bricks are especiallyvulnerable to this.61

Clearly, Aboriginal values associated with our townsand cities need to be assessed if we are to under-stand the current or potential impact of urban salinityon this dimension of Aboriginal heritage. Researchis urgently required in areas where urban salinity is either a threat or already a significant problem.

Story places Aboriginal stories and beliefs about the creation ofthe land can refer to specific landscape featureslike a river, lake or mountain. These places formhighly significant elements of people’s sense ofconnection with “country”. A decline in the healthof a story place would be of great concern toAboriginal communities. The paucity of detailedsalinity data in NSW means that it is very difficult to determine whether salinity is damaging anyregistered story places. At this stage, collaborativefieldwork is necessary to determine the nature andextent of possible impacts to story places in salinity-affected catchments.

Wild resource useThe cultural values that Aboriginal peopleascribe to the environment are many andcomplex. The active utilisation of wild foodsand medicines is but one value, but it is linkedto many aspects of contemporary culture andidentity. Fishing, plant food collecting andhunting continue to play an important role inmany people’s lives. Such activities may beviewed as embodying a continuation of culturalpractice, and as a primary means of passingon ecological knowledge, looking after andobserving country, and maintaining links withvalued places. 62


22

The use of land and sea for cultural and economicpurposes is important to many Aboriginal people inNSW. Wild resource use remains a part of familyand community life.63 The wealth of publicationsabout bush foods is testament to this dynamicaspect of indigenous cultural heritage. Recently,some environmental management bodies haveformally recognised these values in publicdocuments.64

Various factors have influenced how far wild resourceuse has been maintained in individual communitiesthroughout the state. Changes in access to land,the appearance of social welfare, the developmentof environmental laws, and the different experiencesor aspirations of subsequent generations have allplayed a role. It is important to realise that weshould not generalise about this issue. It appearsthat levels of activity vary within communities andeven single families.

People’s capacity to continue wild resource use isalso heavily influenced by the health or condition of catchments, rivers, soils and vegetation. Becausesalinity affects native vegetation, rivers and land-scapes, it may also affect the cultural values thatAboriginal people ascribe to biodiversity andenvironmental health. Such an impact may bedirect and indirect, as is the case for archaeologicalsites. For example, salinity may represent only onefactor in the decline of locally valued landscapesand resources. Impacts may also be directly causedby land clearing, water pollution or even theapproaches used to manage pest species and fire.As an example, research has shown that people’sability to collect plant foods and medicines in NSWis being affected in some areas by the timing of firehazard reduction and the application of pesticidesand poisons to weeds like bitou bush.65

Access is of course also an important factor. It isclear that in many areas, Aboriginal people findit difficult to secure access to land to obtain wildfoods and medicines. For this reason, public landssuch as Crown reserves, stock routes and riverbankshave played, and continue to play, a major rolein people’s lives. In these areas, access is oftenpossible and direct scrutiny from landownerslimited. This highlights the need for the generalmanagement of these lands to acknowledge andprovide for cultural values. For example, simpleacts like road widening or overgrazing of stock routescan eliminate, or severely affect, valued plant foodsor medicines. Any impacts to wild resources inthese areas, such as those generated by salinity,will potentially have a significant cultural impact.

At a more specific level, salinity problems may occurat, or threaten, actual places where wild resourcesare obtained. For example, a stand of medicine plantsmay be directly threatened by a salinity outbreak.To date, though, there is no research into thesusceptibility of valued species of food and medicineplants to salinity. Some may be significantly affectedby problems like waterlogging, while others may be more tolerant. Equally, the effects of salinity onterrestrial and aquatic fauna are poorly understoodand at present are largely restricted to general analysesof threat.66 It is unclear whether salinity is a directthreat to species’ survival. Other problems like alteredfire regimes, clearing and pest species are probablymore significant in some areas. Despite this, theimplications of salinity should not be played down.

Totemic values… in many parts of Australia the term ‘Dreaming’is used interchangeably with ‘Totem’, and isdistinctively Aboriginal Australian. Both termshave a huge range of meanings: both refer tocreation and to activity in daily life. And both areexpressive of a worldview in which humanity ispart of the natural world, has responsibilities to the world, and is born from, lives for, and diesto return to, the living world known as country. 67

A recent study commissioned by DEC revealed thatAboriginal kinship with plants and animals in NSWremains strong.68 Totemic or kinship valuesencompass the concept that a species is absorbedwholly into people’s sense of personal identity andfamily structure. In some cases this may create anobligation to care for or protect a species and tointeract with it in particular ways.69 The local orgeneral extinction of plants and animals valued astotems has a direct cultural impact.

Some totemic species may be especially vulnerableto salinity and even locally threatened. As notedabove, we possess very little information about thedirect affects of salinity on biodiversity. For example,the Murray cod is valued in some areas of NSW as a totem, but our understanding of the effects ofsalinity on native fish and aquatic environments is poor. Research is being conducted on this topicunder the National Dryland Salinity Program butappears to be in its early stages.70

There is a need to ensure that any data stemmingfrom such projects is made available to Aboriginalpeople and that decisions about managing speciesare made with an awareness of their cultural value.


23

In this case, collaborative programs that allowAboriginal people to play a role in managing riversand native fish populations need to be encouraged,as this may activate people’s senses of custodialresponsibility, expressed through concepts liketotems. Such collaboration should also be extendedto the management of terrestrial species and widerlandscapes.

“Country” Country is a living entity with a yesterday, today and tomorrow, with a consciousness,and a will toward life. Because of this richness,country is home, and peace; nourishmentfor body, mind, and spirit … Country is multi-dimensional – it consists of people, animals,plants, Dreamings; underground, earth, soils,minerals and waters, surface water, and air.71

Aboriginal people may perceive and value thelandscape as their “country”, a term referring inmost cases to the idea of traditional connection to an area derived from descent and habitation.In this way a landscape in its entirety is viewed as having a cultural meaning. Impact to the healthof the environment that gives the landscape itsintegrity and structure will therefore affect people’ssense of identity, place and connection withcountry. Such an impact became evident duringthe Wellington case-study where some of theinformants talked about the personal sadnessthey feel at the loss of vegetation and decline inthe health of rivers. Linked with this distress may be concern for future generations of Aboriginalpeople and their ability to maintain culturalpractices and identity in degraded landscapes.

Concern for the land in this way has been expressedin all parts of Australia and the sense of custodian-ship associated with this connection is wellencapsulated by the term “caring for country”.

Economic interestsAs with the wider community, land degradationhas the potential to affect an array of economicinterests held by Aboriginal people. For example,it has the capacity to render Aboriginal-ownedlands and enterprises unproductive, and to directlyaffect ventures such as cultural tourism which relyfor their success on the health of local ecosystems.

Salinity may well affect or threaten lands that havebeen claimed under the Aboriginal Land Rights Act

1983 (NSW) or properties purchased for communitiesby the Indigenous Land Corporation (ILC). The ILChas already noted that land degradation is presenton many properties returned to Aboriginal peopleacross Australia.72 Despite this, it does not appearthat the relationship between salinity and Aboriginallands has ever been audited. This should beconsidered within the context of an overall assess-ment of the environmental condition and capabilityof these lands. It would, however, be hindered bythe paucity of available salinity data in NSW, and to be effective, should probably involve property-scale investigations rather than regional overviews.Property Vegetation Plans, under the NativeVegetation Act 2003, are potentially an excellentmechanism for advancing this approach.

Health, well-being and quality of life Aboriginal people readily recognise the linksbetween health, employment, land and culture.73

Health is not just the physical well-being of anindividual, but the social, emotional, and culturalwellbeing of the whole community in which eachindividual is able to achieve their full potentialas a human being thereby bringing about thetotal well-being of their community.74

All of the impacts of salinity and environmentaldegradation that have been described in theprevious sections can cause deterioration inAboriginal people’s well-being.75 This can occurat a number of levels. Firstly, it is now generallyaccepted that people’s sense of identity andconnection to place is an integral component of their quality of life. The ability to identify with,care for, and interact with a community and placefosters self-esteem and a feeling of security. Whenactivities valued as an important part of people’slifestyle are threatened or stopped, such connectioncan be undermined. Decline in the environmentcan obviously be a major instigator of such change.

Aboriginal people are concerned about such loss.People see the ongoing impact of Europeancolonisation and the difficulties confronting attemptsto maintain cultural life as factors contributing toill-health and decline in self-esteem.76 The inabilityto find and share bush foods, fish, or visit a specialplace can all generate a sense of worry, loss andsadness.

Associated long-term effects can include a declinein cross-generation contact and understanding.The feeling that “culture is being lost”, or that


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young people are not being given the opportunityto learn, is expressed by many Aboriginal people inNSW. This can be seen as being intimately linked to other problems like youth suicide, drugs, ill-health and family dysfunction. In this way,concepts like culture and heritage are embeddedin broader issues like health, community well-beingand structure.

In the same way, discussions about environmentalhealth can be linked to concerns about poor dietand diabetes. The high prevalence of junk food inpeople’s diet, in Western and Central Western NSWespecially, has been highlighted as a major problem.One study has found that at least 90% of food-related advertising in towns like Wellington focuseson unhealthy food options such as alcohol, cigarettes,soft drinks, ice cream and take-away meals. Thestudy found that most owners of takeaway foodshops were disinterested in introducing healthierfoods.77 It could be argued that while wild foodsare unlikely to become staples, increased use ofwild meat and plant products might contribute in

some way to tackling this problem. Such an optionis hampered by environmental degradation.

Equally, by enhancing people’s role in looking aftercountry or by making them feel valued as a sourceof knowledge, we might contribute to improvementsin self-esteem and by extension, social and physicalhealth. This is not a simple process. Complex socialproblems need to be resolved using a variety ofmethods. Ownership of land is not a panacea forthe problems facing many Aboriginal communities.

At another level, salinity can have detrimental effectson well-being by damaging the infrastructure thatpeople rely on for their way of life. The impact ofsalinity on rural and urban roads, houses, parks and services will concern Aboriginal people. Thepotential for salinity to significantly help lower waterquality in NSW may become increasingly important.It has been noted that many centres in affectedregions may have unpotable water within the next20-40 years unless salinity is brought under control.If these impacts progress, they will seriously affectthe daily life of all people living in these areas. The


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Above: White Brown Land by Evelyn Powell, 2002.

generally low-income status of Aboriginalcommunities may mean that they feel these effects more keenly than the wider population.

Management options Preventing the spread of salinity across

large areas of the landscape will help

protect cultural heritage.

Aboriginal people do not separate ecologyand culture … Biodiversity and culturaldiversity, together, are the links for healthycommunities.78

One of the prime purposes of this project is to lookat the relationship between salinity, land managementand cultural heritage. The first explores howcatchment-level planning and action can achievecultural and social goals. The second looks at howappropriate cultural heritage information can becollected to support both catchment-scale planningand more localised management actions. Thisstructure is dictated by the fact that salinity, andindeed all environmental issues, needs to bemanaged in a landscape context. Greater connectionsbetween natural and cultural heritage are alsorequired if the broad set of cultural values identifiedin this book are to be included in land-use planningprocesses. Furthermore, we acknowledge the needto balance the big picture with effective local actionsuch as that geared to the protection of individualheritage sites and the lifestyle of local communities.

It is important to state again that the prevention ormitigation of salinity across large areas will potentiallyachieve significant cultural heritage goals. Forexample, by preventing soil erosion and the loss of vegetation associated with salinity, archaeologicalsites may be saved from damage or destruction,subject of course to local land-uses. Equally,associated improvements or stabilisation in riverhealth and the condition of the environment wherepeople live may assist them to continue practisingactivities that rely on the presence of clean waterand biodiversity. The involvement of Aboriginalpeople in the repair of the environment is a logical extension of these connections:

Aboriginal people are becoming increasinglyconcerned about the quality of the environmentsin which they live and have sought to become

more involved in land management issues inan effort to marry their needs with the need tomaintain biodiversity. 79

Indigenous people throughout Australia are worriedabout the health of their local environment. Landand river degradation presents an ongoing threatto Aboriginal cultural heritage. As a consequence,Indigenous people want to be involved in rehabil-itation and conservation. Such work may take theform of general revegetation programs or morefocused activities aimed at controlling the erosionof specific cultural sites. Involvement in revegetationmay lead to both direct and indirect cultural benefits.On the one hand, people may see a tangibleimprovement in the health of their country. Onthe other hand, it has been shown to be a way“for community members to pass on the knowledgeof traditional use of plants and animals”.80 Theoral histories in the following case-study providea local perspective on this issue.

Good cultural benefits can be achieved fromrevegetation projects where a wide variety of bushfoods and medicines are re-established. It hasbeen noted elsewhere that current Landcareprojects are mainly “conducted for the purposeof regeneration of pasture, while Aboriginal peoplewould prefer to see the regeneration of diverseand more complex ecosystems”.81

This is a pertinent issue, especially in the contextwhere agroforestry is promoted as a salinity manage-ment option. The cultural benefits stemming fromthe mass planting of a small number of nativespecies are limited. The employment of Aboriginalpeople in agroforestry might be one positive outcome,but this only goes part of the way to recognisingthe cultural values of native vegetation. Suchdevelopment could be balanced or offset byrevegetation using a variety of culturally valuedplant species or conservation of existing remnantbushland and cultural sites.

Protection of landscape values goes some waytoward addressing Aboriginal community concernsabout land management and its intersection with the notion of “country”. Cultural heritagemanagement can support or dovetail with salinitymanagement, rather than impede its progress. At the same time, actions to manage or preventsalinity actions should reflect an explicit commitmentto addressing cultural heritage values and places.Without this, opportunities to achieve culturaloutcomes via the many elements of land manage-


26

ment may be missed, and in some cases, heritagevalues may actually be damaged.82

Underlying our discussion is the fact that wesupport the position that complete eradication ofsalinity and other related environmental problems is not achievable. Instead, salinity managementshould focus on a series of priority areas andlandscapes.83 This reality means we need tobe strategic in our approach to assessing andmanaging cultural heritage. We cannot afford to rely on piecemeal outcomes obtained throughEnvironmental Impact Assessment, or continueto focus our attention primarily on archaeologicalsites. In the case of the latter, it is unrealistic toexpect the complete prevention of salinity-relateddisturbance to all Aboriginal sites in either theWellington case-study area or other affectedparts of NSW.

The integration of cultural heritage into salinitymanagement should avoid becoming focused purelyon recording archaeological sites or on arguing thateach site that may be identified requires the samelevel of attention. This would limit our capacity

to manage the suite of other cultural values being affected by land degradation. It would alsomarginalise Aboriginal people’s involvement in landmanagement and obscure the dynamic nature ofAboriginal culture and the link between heritage,landscape and community.

Ideally, this project argues for a balance betweenenvironmental remediation, land-use change andtargeted heritage conservation. Underlying anymanagement approach must be an awareness of the broad nature of Aboriginal heritage values in NSW and the opportunities available to managethese values through the establishment ofsustainable use of our land and rivers.

Achieving this would require a combination ofmanagement actions. The scale of these actionswould vary between catchments according tocommunity values, the degree of degradation andplans for long-term land-use. They could includeprograms such as:

– education of government, non-governmentorganisations and landowners about the


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Above: Echidna from the wall mural at Dubbo City Library.

scope of heritage assessment required tolink cultural heritage management withland-use planning processes in NSW

– commitment to research and planningwhich focuses on achieving measurable,strategic and integrated heritagemanagement results

– participative planning techniques designedto engage Aboriginal communities in landmanagement and to recognise communityknowledge and aspirations

– landscape restoration programs suchas revegetation which have a culturaldimension via the use of culturallysignificant plants

– negotiation of new cultural heritageconservation areas; and

– improvement in the scope of heritageassessment within EIA to include socialimpact assessment and consideration ofthe link between environmental health and community well-being

A strong argument has already been made thatinformed social impact assessment and a multi-disciplinary approach to EIA is urgently requiredin NSW and could potentially be supported underexisting legislation.84 When combined with themanagement actions presented in Chapter 4, this would significantly improve our approach tomanaging Aboriginal heritage.

All of these actions are relevant to addressing therelationship between Aboriginal heritage and thegeneral issue of environmental degradation. Inother words, they are relevant not just to salinity

management, but to the full array of environmentalproblems present in the NSW landscape.

At the same time, this project has consideredspecific heritage management actions or issuesrelated to current salinity management strategies.These are also discussed in Chapter 4 and include:

– setting targets for site recording andarchaeological assessment in prioritysalinity landscapes

– ensuring that salinity remediation actionssuch as revegetation and engineeringsolutions help to protect cultural places; and

– analysing the effects of salinity on localAboriginal communities and activelyassessing the potential cultural outcomesof standard salinity management actions.

By doing this we have attempted to highlight theimportance of integrating the management ofcultural and natural heritage to achieve the bestresults from available funding and strategicframeworks.

The value of the Aboriginal Heritage and SalinityProject has been its ability to take a broad andstrategic look at the correlations between Aboriginalheritage management and natural resource manage-ment. The project has allowed an assessment ofnatural resource management plans, distilling themost promising cultural heritage management actionspresent in these documents. In addition, it hasgone a step further by setting these actions withinan over-arching theoretical and practical context.The Wellington case-study, presented in the nextchapter, has been a central part of this process.


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Driving across the western edge of the

Cumberland Plain, you pass over undulating

land, once forested, then farmed and now

rapidly going under housing. Brick and tile

suburbs sit squarely against the orange

and blue lift of the mountains. The effects

of salinity can be seen at times on this

landscape. Die back. Waterlogging.

Efflorescence – an evocative word for

an insidious stain.

Crossing the Blue Mountains, a physical andpsychological boundary that represents the urban-rural divide, and into a landscape of rolling hillsmarked by paddock trees. Squiggles of vegetationhug the edge of watercourses. Wire-strung fencesstretch left and right. On through Bathurst, Orangeand Molong until after six hours the Catombal Range,defining the valley into Wellington, comes into view.

A classic country scene welcomes the visitor.Afternoon light turns the trunks of red gumsgolden. Cockatoos wheel over a bend in theMacquarie. Verandahs on Victorian buildings arefringed with metal lace. You hear only quiet whenyou stand on the edge of a dirt road, and smell the eucalypts releasing their odour in the heat.

Once the scale of salinity has been lodged in themind, though, it is impossible not to look for it inthis landscape. Is that gully erosion a source ofsalt? Is that clump of trees slowly dying? Theoccasional belts of trees planted to tackle a risingwatertable seem such a small mark on a landscapeunder such a significant threat. How will the landlook in twenty, thirty, forty years? How will life herechange for people if the environment continues todegrade as all the reports and strategy documentssuggest it could if action is not taken?

This is a landscape where clearing is still going on.It has always been changing. The ringbarking bysettlers and the planting and harvesting of cropshave all shaped and reshaped the physicalstructure of the land. Salinity is part of a cycle of change; perhaps an inevitable consequence of the colonial vision.

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3 The Wellington case-study

Left: The southern end of Wellington Town Common with Rose Chown’s home visible in the middle distance.

Above: Wellington local government area, NSW.

Why Wellington?Understanding the relationship between salinityand Aboriginal heritage is dependent upon carryingout multi-faceted research in salinity-affected land-scapes. Wellington is just one of a number of inlandregions of NSW facing a significant salinity problem.This particular region was chosen as the locationfor the case-study for a combination of factors.

Firstly, unlike other regions, Wellington local govern-ment area has been the subject of considerablesalinity management and research by agencies suchas DIPNR, and before it DLWC. This has includedsome mapping of salinity outbreaks. The case-studycould therefore draw on such research and alsoexplore how cultural values might be factored intoexisting programs.

Secondly, the area’s Aboriginal heritage has notbeen the subject of intensive research and survey.The issue of dealing with salinity in this regionprovides an important spur for undertakingcomprehensive and much-needed heritageassessment. Prior to the case-study, there waslittle information available to help the communityand government understand and manage therelationship between land degradation and culturalheritage. Some research has been conducted onAboriginal history associated with the WellingtonCommon, missions established in the area, andpeople’s experiences of the post-war period. Thisprovided a good starting point for the case-study.In contrast, the extent of archaeological informationabout the region is limited. Similarly, no attempthad been made previously to document localAboriginal people’s views about wild resource use and environmental management.

Finally, because agricultural lands dominate thestudy area, any research in this region allows us toexplore many of the key challenges that face anyattempt to address salinity problems in NSW. Theneed for landowner involvement is a central themein salinity-based research and planning. TheWellington area has a long history of agriculturalactivity, some of which shows signs of intensifying.Any Aboriginal cultural heritage research conductedin the area therefore needs to engage with privatelandowners and the nature and regulation ofprivate land-use.

Aims of the case-studyThe general aims of the Aboriginal Heritage andSalinity Project are listed in Chapter 2. The mainaims of the Wellington case-study are more specific.

These are:

1 to document Wiradjuri cultural placesand values in the study area

2 to investigate what cultural or socialimpacts environmental degradationand salinity generate

3 to assess community views aboutenvironmental degradation and optionsfor addressing this; and

4 to discuss salinity management optionswith Aboriginal people and land managers.

Case-study methodology:looking at the big pictureThe case-study has involved using a combinationof research tools. Such an approach is required toachieve a holistic assessment of heritage valuesand issues. Archaeological and historical researchhas been combined with elements of participatoryland-use planning to develop a comprehensiveoverview of key Aboriginal heritage issues in thestudy area.

Importantly, the case-study has not been restrictedby the need to examine isolated landforms wheresalinity outbreaks are currently evident. Doing sowould have limited our capacity to understand and document Aboriginal cultural values associatedwith the broader landscape within the local govern-ment area. Equally, the impacts of salinity are notnecessarily localised and can be distributed widelyacross catchments. Decline in water quality andthe transfer of salts in ground water systems aregood examples of the fact that salinity is spatiallydiffuse and complex. It can only be managed andunderstood by looking at the bigger picture of land-use in a region, ecosystem function and thecomplex variables that generate degradation in the Australian environment.

At the same time, our discussions with Wiradjuripeople about the land have not concentrated purelyon the problem of salinity. Interviewees had variableknowledge about the problem but all had importantconcerns about associated environmental issues suchas water quality, the clearing of native vegetation,


32

the decline in the availability of bush foods andmedicines, and the management of cultural sites.In this respect, salinity has been treated as onecomponent of a much larger set of issues andproblems in the study area.

Initial consultation An important phase of the case-study involvedinitial consultation with Wiradjuri people in theWellington area. Numerous trips were made to theregion to canvass people’s views about the project,determine whether people were interested inbecoming involved, and to develop a list ofpotential interviewees.

The Wellington Local Aboriginal Land Council wasnot active during the study, and contact was madeinstead with individuals rather than Aboriginalorganisations. The NSW National Parks and WildlifeService Aboriginal site officer for the region, Bill Allen, attended early meetings with people on the Wellington Common and provided additionalcontacts for the Project Team. Meetings were alsosubsequently held at the Aboriginal Youth Centreand in some cases at people’s homes or workplaces.

At these meetings the aims of the project werediscussed and people were asked whether theywould support the research. Other important issuessuch as the interview process and the storage andreturn of transcripts were discussed. People werealso asked to nominate places that they valued inthe local area.

Field tripsA number of field trips were made with intervieweesto some of the valued places including:

– the historic camp at Bushrangers Creek on the outskirts of the town

– the flats of the Bell River where peopleused to live and work in market gardens

– the location of other historic camps atCurra Creek; and

– lands associated with the missions in thearea, on the Macquarie River.

In some cases oral history interviews were recordedat these locations.

Oral history interviewsPresence is expressed in the stories of people,which make places live, which bring people andplace into relationship.85

Oral history interviews have formed a very importantpart of this case-study. They have allowed localWiradjuri people to express their concerns aboutthe environment and to reveal aspects of their ownlife history. The interviews were structured arounda list of questions designed to explore people’sinteraction with the landscape and their views aboutenvironmental degradation. Such access to localknowledge is essential to achieving the aim ofunderstanding people’s connections to landscapeand place.

Interviews were conducted with ten people inWellington, at Nanima Village and on the WellingtonCommon. The main aims of this component were:

1 to gather information about people’s personalinteraction with the local environmentduring their lifetimes

2 to record people’s views about thecondition and management of the localenvironment; and

3 to understand how different individualsperceive and value their cultural heritage.

During the interviews we asked about work, food,water, housing and environmental change, andfocused on the rivers as a landscape feature. This approach allowed the Wiradjuri participants to express their views about the link betweenenvironmental health and cultural identity, and todiscuss how the community should be involved inland management programs such as revegetation.

The oral history interviews have allowed us toinclude local Aboriginal voices in this book. Fortyquotes have been used in the following sections tosupport our discussion of local Wiradjuri people’sconnection to country, wild resource use, experienceof environmental change, and the desire to shareknowledge with young people. A short profile ofeach individual quoted in this report is presentedon the next page.

P A R T 3 T H E W E L L I N G T O N C A S E - S T U D Y

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Above: Rose Chown overlooking the Macquarie River.

Paul WestPaul was born in 1962 and lived at Nanima withhis parents until the early 1980s. Paul currentlyworks as the Aboriginal liaison officer for the PoliceForce in Wellington. He feels strongly aboutensuring that local koori teenagers get the chance to experience cultural practices like getting andeating bush foods. Today, Paul runs a programthrough the holiday period called ‘Breaking theCycle’. He takes 19 to 22 year olds through thebush tracking down goannas and echidnas.

John AmattoJohn was born in the late 1930s. His parentsbrought him to Wellington when he was a baby.From the 1940s to late 60s John lived with hisrelatives and immediate family on the WellingtonTown Common, the market gardens on the BellRiver flats and at Bushrangers Creek.

Bill CarrBill was born in 1919 at Bulgandramine (nearPeak Hill). His parents brought him to Wellingtonwhen he was a young child. Bill went to school atNanima. After leaving school he worked on thegold dredge on the Macquarie River and as ashearer alongside his father, Kingy Carr, at ‘TheSprings’. Bill has lived in Nanima and Wellingtonall his life.

Violet CarrViolet is Bill Carr’s younger sister. Born in 1933,Violet spent her childhood years living on theWellington Town Common and Nanima, beforemoving into Wellington in the late 1940s. Violet haslived in Wellington for the last 50 years.

Rose ChownRose was born in 1950 and grew up on theWellington Town Common. Rose’s family was oneof the last to leave the Common, being forced offby authorities in the late 1960s. Rose moved backto Wellington in the early 1990s and has beenactive in ensuring recognition of the localAboriginal significance of the Common.

Vivienne GriffinVivienne was born in 1948 in Sydney. Her father,John (Jack) Bell, was born at the ‘Old Mission’,north of Nanima. Vivienne moved to Wellington inthe 1960s to live with her father and grandmotheron the Town Common. She stayed on theCommon, raising two young daughters until theearly 1980s.

Evelyn PowellEvelyn Powell was born on the Barwon River in1933 and grew up at Bulgandramine and Dubbo.Evelyn married Fred Powell and raised her childrenat Peak Hill. She remembers travelling to Wellingtonto visit relatives of her mother when she was a smallgirl. This photo was taken of Evelyn with family inthe garden of her home at Nanima Village, whereshe has lived for ten years.

Joan WillieJoan Willie is Evelyn Powell’s eldest daughter. Joanwas born in 1953 at Peak Hill. Joan moved toNanima Village in the 1990s to be near her mother.Joan currently works as an Aboriginal Educationassistant at Wellington High School and feelsstrongly about local koori teenagers having theopportunity to learn and experience their culture.

Robert StewartRobert was born in Wellington in 1941. He grew upin town before moving to live with his wife on theCommon in the 1960s. Robert remembers gettingechidna and rabbits while living on the Common.He has lived at Nanima Village for 35 years.

Joyce WilliamsJoyce was born at Nanima in 1926, living therewith her parents and grandparents before movinginto town in the 1940s. Joyce has lived inWellington nearly all of her life and has helpedestablish the local Aboriginal Health Service and is involved in heritage projects. Joyce is shown herewith Linda Burney at the March for Reconciliationat Wellington in May 2002.

Some Wiradjuri participants

Background researchA search was carried out for existing histories of Wiradjuri people and the archaeology of theWellington region. This information let us construct a brief narrative history of Aboriginal people’sexperience in the Wellington area. Backgroundresearch also helped us understand salinitymanagement, catchment management,revegetation, Aboriginal land management, and bushfood collection and propagation.

The research focused on secondary sources suchas books, monographs, reports, seminar papersand journal articles held at a number of institutions.These include: the Australian Institute of Aboriginaland Torres Strait Islander Studies Collection; Mitchelland State Libraries, Wellington Local Library, SydneyUniversity (Fisher Library and Orange AgriculturalCampus Library), the Department of Environmentand Conservation Library, and the Aboriginal Heritageand Information Management System (AHIMS).Searching the Internet under key words such as “salinity”, and “bush foods” also retrievedinformation.

All of the items collected during this research have been entered into the bibliographic databasePROCITE. The database currently holds 165references and can be searched on keywords such as the author, title, publisher or subject.

Collation of salinity dataThe DIPNR was able to provide salinity outbreakdata for much of the study area. This informationwas supplied in digital format and derives fromaerial photo interpretation and field inspectionsdone over many years by regional staff. The scaleand age of the data was not indicated, although it

was noted that some was up to ten years old. Given this limitation, the data cannot be treated ascomprehensive. This has affected our capacity toprovide detailed analysis of the relationship betweensalinity, known archaeological sites, areas of archae-ological sensitivity and other cultural values andplaces. However, the data supplied gives a goodindication of the scale of the problem, and stillappears to be one of the better data sets availablein NSW.

Archaeological mapping The ArcView Geographic Information System (GIS)was used for basic mapping of archaeologicalsensitivity across the study area. This involved using a number of key data sets including soil types,ruggedness, terrain, known open sites and elevation.The resulting map breaks the landscape down intothree categories of high, moderate and low archae-ological potential. The mapping was restricted toconsidering open sites or artefact scatters, as thiswas the only class of site present in large enoughnumbers in the Department of Environment andConservation’s AHIMS database to support statisticalanalysis. Other site types such as scarred trees arepresent in the database, but only in small numbers.

The map on page 39 illustrates a number of importantpoints about the spatial relationship betweensalinity and the archaeological record. This hasbeen achieved by overlaying the map of archae-ological sensitivity on the salinity outbreak data.

Archaeological field workSome fieldwork was done to assess importantarchaeological issues in the area. One of the firststeps taken was to talk with DIPNR staff about theirknowledge of sites in the region. They were askedwhether they commonly found sites in the salinity-affected areas where they worked. Alan Nicholsonindicated that the majority of salt scalds that he was aware of had stone artefacts on their surfaces.The early identification of this issue proved vital indirecting the scale of later archaeological investigation.

Alan Nicholson was able to take the project team to a number of scalds where artefacts were present.In all cases, salinity management actions had beencarried out at these scalds, or were in the process ofbeing implemented. These visits proved an invaluableway to discuss the realities of integrating archae-ological site management into the current approachto addressing salinity.


36

Above: Louise Gay interviewing Vivienne Griffin on the Common(with Nan resting).

Two of the scalds were subsequently chosen fordetailed archaeological recording and assessment.This involved mapping the distribution of artefactsacross both scalds, and analysing artefact attributesand site structure.

The primary aims of this work were to:

1 allow us to understand the types of archae-ological information that can be obtainedthrough analysis of artefact scatters ontypical salt scalds in the region; and

2 provide a foundation for understanding theeffects of salinity, erosion and existing land-use on the archaeological sites.

The first scald is on the property “Easterfield” at Mumbil, approximately 19 km south-west ofWellington and on the Burrendong 1:50,000topographic map sheet. It has been used for manyyears as a salt demonstration site. The area iscurrently managed using rotational grazing, whichaims to limit the degree of stock damage to the scaldand allow the regeneration of grass cover. Theestablishment of a large native tree plantingdemonstration site has also assisted management of the scalded area. These trees have prompted asignificant lowering of the local watertable and thescald is now considered to be stable.

The second scald is on a property known as “The Springs”, approximately 17 km north of thetownship of Obley and on the Wellington 1:50,000topographic map sheet. It differs from the scald at“Easterfield” as it combines areas of varied slope,

sections of intact soil islands, trees, small gullies andrills. The scald is managed by being left ungrazedand will eventually be fenced off by the landownerto further assist stabilisation.

The archaeological assessment of both scalds wastendered as a contract and undertaken by ERMAustralia.86 The Department of Environment andConservation coordinated the involvement of localWiradjuri people in the fieldwork through the OranaCommonwealth Development and EmploymentProgram (CDEP).

A second phase of archaeological assessment wasdone on the “Easterfield” scald after heavy rains inthe area, six months after the original investigation.This involved re-recording the distribution of artefactsin the original sample areas to see whether we coulddetect evidence of artefact movement.

Consultation with natural resource agencies Consultation occurred with staff employed by theDIPNR in the Central West and in Sydney. Achievingcultural heritage outcomes from salinity managementin the Central West is dependent upon the jointinvolvement of staff from both the DIPNR and theDEC. Natural resources staff know a lot about aboutland-use, salinity and ways of working with land-owners. Consultation has occurred with a range of DIPNR staff, including local Salt Action Teammembers, Aboriginal natural resource officers, GISofficers, the senior Aboriginal policy officer and theacting director of the NSW Salinity Strategy.

T H E W E L L I N G T O N C A S E - S T U D Y

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Above: ERM archaeologist Josh Symons (right), with CDEPAboriginal representatives Grahame Bell (centre) and AaronDaley (left). Photo by Neville Baker.

Above: Detail of the map generated by the GIS as part of thepredictive modelling exercise. Areas of high archaeologicalsensitivity generally coincide with land adjacent to watercourses.

Environment of the study region The landscape in the study area has been subject to significant modification since European occupationearly in the 19th century. Augustus Earle’s picture ofthe Moolong Plains in the 1820s provides an insightto both the nature and scale of such change.

The Wellington local government area falls within the Central West Catchment region of NSW. Dry-land salinity outbreaks are widespread in this partof the catchment and manifest as scalds, vegetationchanges, dieback and saline seeps. The town of Wellington lies at the junction of the Bell andMacquarie Rivers. The Macquarie has been identifiedas having a significant salinity problem, which isexpected to worsen over the next 20 years.87

The Wellington area is dominated by valley floorsand undulating hills associated with the Macquarieand Bell Rivers. Rugged and more heavily dissectedterrain occurs on the eastern edge of the study areaaround the valley of the Macquarie and CudgegongRivers which has been flooded to create theBurrendong Dam. North-south trending ridges occurin this area, with hills and saddles. The central andwestern sections of the landscape are marked bynumerous drainage lines, many of which feed intoone of the Bell, Macquarie and Little Rivers.

The other primary landscape feature present is theCatombal Range, which runs north-south throughthe centre of the study area. The range forms thewestern backdrop to the Wellington township.

Very little remnant vegetation survives in the studyarea due to a long history of agricultural land-use.Like much of the Central West, the Wellingtonlandscape is characterised by cleared paddockscontaining small stands of box trees and other native

vegetation. In many cases, paddock trees stand inisolation and show little evidence of being associatedwith regeneration. The largest areas of remnantvegetation tend to be restricted to more elevated androcky landforms such as ridges, crests and somehills. The heavily vegetated Catombal Range is agood example of the contrast between this type ofterrain and the areas subject to grazing and cropproduction. Narrow strips of riparian vegetation arealso found along many sections of river and creek.

Unfortunately little high quality vegetation mappingis available for the area. The best data availablederives from a biodiversity assessment that hasbeen progressing in the Little River Catchment inthe western half of the study area. This catchmentcovers 260,000 ha between the Hervey Ranges in the west and the Catombal Ranges in the east.The study forms part of a larger investigation beingcoordinated by DIPNR called the TARGET Project,investigating how dryland salinity can be addressedby encouraging land-use change.

The flora and fauna survey work concluded that only17% of the Little River catchment is covered withwoody vegetation and that 85% of this is located inelevated terrain. Vegetation communities associatedwith rivers, valleys and flats had been heavilycleared. Remnants were found to cover small areasand were often isolated within the landscape.Woodland remnants generally have degradedunderstoreys, little tree regeneration and decliningtree health.88 The results of this work can be readas being an indicator of the general condition ofvegetation in the wider Wellington region.

Conservation options are limited by the fact thatthere are no National Parks within the study area.The nearest protected area is Goobang National


38

Above: Looking across the cropped lands of the Bell River flatswith the Catombal Range in the distance.

Above: Fence line demarcating the boundary between acleared paddock and the vegetated road reserve.

Park, near Peak Hill, close to the western edge of the study area. This park covers sections of theHervey Ranges and is dominated by rugged andelevated terrain. In the absence of protected areas,Crown and public lands tend to have a high conser-vation value as in many cases they have retainedsome of their vegetation cover. Many road reservesand travelling stock routes in the region are alsoimportant for this reason.89

The majority of native fauna in the district is restrictedto islands and corridors of remnant vegetation onfarms, travelling stock routes and road reserves.These areas “provide the only sources of shelter and security in an increasingly fragmented andhostile landscape”.90 For example, it has been notedthat snakes and goannas are commonly found inremnant vegetation along rivers and creeks, as theirfood is often located here in abundance. The sameis the case for many of the other reptiles, amphibians,birds and mammals that survive today.

Since the mid-nineteenth century the main land-usein the Wellington district has been grazing or mixedfarming (a combination of winter cereals and sheep-cattle grazing). The majority of arable lands in thedistrict has undergone ploughing, excepting moderateto steep slopes, as part of pasture improvement andcrop rotation. On the more fertile river flats, crops of vegetables, irrigated fodder, maize, peas andlucerne hay are grown. Burrendong Dam was builton the Macquarie River in the 1960s and covers anarea of 8900 ha. The water from the dam supportsirrigation crops such as cotton and citrus fruit.

Photos taken around Wellington between the 1940sand the 1960s show areas of severe soil erosion andindicate that land degradation has been occurring inthe district for a long time. The Soil ConservationService (SCS) took these photos at a time whenscientists were beginning to examine land degradationproblems in the area.91 The SCS commenced a farmplanning service in the Wellington area in 1958 andworked with landowners to try and redress erosionproblems and unsustainable farming practices. TheSCS noted that environmental damage was worst onsmaller properties where farmers tended to utiliselands which could not support cultivation.The scale of the problem is amply expressed by one of the soilconservationists based in Wellington in 1962:

There is abundant evidence of unsound practices,such as over-cultivation and over-grazing, providedby the many sheeted and gullied areas to be foundalmost wherever we look. 92

Although some changes to land-use have beenadopted since that time, environmental degradationhas increased in many parts of the region. Today,scientists acknowledge that “the loss of nativevegetation cover, coupled with intense land-use, is a significant barrier to the maintenance of diverse,sustainable, and productive natural and agriculturalsystems”.93 For some, the cost of implementingsolutions to soil structural decline, erosion, die backand salinity are too great, especially in the light ofthe financial crisis affecting rural communities.

In recent years the catchcry in response to calls forrevegetation and conservation is “who should pay”.Many landholders feel that they “should not bear thetotal economic impact of changing on-farm propertyrights for the long-term benefit of the environment”.94

It can be appreciated that this is a difficult context in which to talk about Aboriginal heritage issues.Some people may see this as complicating thealready overwhelming challenge of tackling environ-mental degradation. We therefore looked closely at a number of strategies to encourage farmers, govern-ment and Aboriginal communities to work together.

One of our goals is to highlight how local Aboriginalpeople share concerns with other sections of thecommunity about the health of the land and rivers.We have attempted to demonstrate why communitymembers would like to be involved in revegetationprojects and how salinity management practices canhave positive cultural outcomes such as the protectionof remnant archaeological deposits and improvementin the health of “country”. (These managementissues are discussed further in Chapter 4.)


39

Above: Grain silos at Wellington indicate the importance ofgrain production in the area.

Local Aboriginal people’sconnection to the Wellington area

This section presents a brief overview of

Aboriginal occupation of the Wellington

region to provide a context for the

identification of Aboriginal sites and

places that may be affected by salinity.

The community todayAboriginal people living in the Wellington regionhave a combination of traditional and historicalconnections to the surrounding land. At the time of the 2001 census, 8,228 Aboriginal people wereliving in the Wellington local government area.95

Many live at Nanima Village, the site of one of theoldest reserves in NSW. Nanima lies approximatelyfour kilometres to the east of Wellington, close tothe banks of the Macquarie River. Other people live in Wellington itself.

Wiradjuri people at Wellington are engaged inproactive attempts to acquire land and resourcesas a basis for furthering social, economic andcultural objectives. A number of Aboriginal organ-isations exist in the area such as the AboriginalHealth Service, the Orana Development Corp-oration (CDEP), Wellington Local Aboriginal Land Council and the Wellington Town CommonCommittee. The Indigenous Land Corporation haspurchased property in the area for the community,and an Indigenous Land Use Agreement has beennegotiated for lands within the Wellington TownCommon. The Aboriginal Heritage and SalinityProject has sought to engage with a cross-sectionof the community to reflect people’s connection to the local landscape and their views aboutenvironmental management.

Historical contextWiradjuri people have been living in the Wellingtonarea for many thousands of years. When the explorerJohn Oxley travelled through the Central West in1817, he entered country that was known intimatelyby Aboriginal people, and invested with a deep senseof cultural meaning. Wiradjuri culture embodied a

complex relationship between people and the land,and a highly structured social system. The manyand varied archaeological remains in the regionattest to both the length of Wiradjuri occupation,and aspects of their ceremonial and everyday life.Attachment to the land, the revival of language, andthe complex web of family history has continued toshape Wiradjuri identity, and represents the contin-uation of a distinct Aboriginal presence in the area.

European settlement in the Wellington Valleyfollowed closely on the heels of Oxley. In the early1820s, a government settlement consisting of anagricultural farm accommodating 80 convicts was established near the junction of the Bell andMacquarie Rivers, just south of the area later setaside for Wellington Township. For the next threedecades this settlement represented the mostwestern outpost of government authority and enter-prise in colonial NSW.96 Relationships between theWiradjuri and the settlers west of the mountainsdeteriorated during the 1820s and culminated in1824 in the declaration of martial law. The loss ofaccess to land and resources generated Aboriginalresistance and ensuing military action. In 1828,the commandant of the government settlementreported that soldiers had killed a number ofWiradjuri people.97

Land between Bathurst and the Wellington Valleywas officially opened up for settlement in 1827.Throughout the mid-nineteenth century, the localWiradjuri saw dramatic changes to their country asa result of clearing, grazing, fencing and croppingby the white population. Over time it becameincreasingly difficult for the traditional owners tomove freely within their territory. As was the caseelsewhere in NSW, concerted efforts were made to congregate the local Wiradjuri people withinmissions and later a reserve at Wellington.


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Above: Joyce Williams and Bill Carr at the march forReconciliation at Wellington in May 2002.

In 1825, the first attempt to establish an Aboriginalmission at Wellington occurred. This mission wasprivately supported but was abandoned within ayear.98 From 1832 to 1843 Reverend James Guntherand Reverend JCS Handt of the Anglican ChurchMissionary Society ran a government-supportedmission on the site of the government settlement.Reverend Handt left the mission in 1836, and wasreplaced by Reverend William Watson. Gunther keptthe mission at the former government settlementrunning until 1843. It eventually closed due toanimosity between the missionaries and their failureto attract large enough numbers of Wiradjuri peopleto live at the settlement on a permanent basis. Italso failed due to lack of financial support from thegovernment and pressure being exerted by localwhite settlers who wanted control of the missionlands for farming, river frontage and for the estab-lishment of Wellington township. The historian, PeterKabaila, writes that the mission “laid the foundationfor a succession of Aboriginal camps and housingareas in the vicinity of Wellington Township”. These include Nanima Falls, Blakes Fall Mission,Blacks Camp, Nanima Aboriginal Reserve and the Wellington Town Common, which continue to be important to local Wiradjuri people as evidence of their determination to stay on or near their owncountry.99

While it was not until 1910 that Nanima wasestablished as an official Aboriginal reserve,throughout the mid-nineteenth century to late 1960smany Wiradjuri people chose to live in otherlocations such as the Wellington Town Common andon different sections of Crown land, such asBushrangers Creek. Aboriginal people in the areavalue these sites today. They play an important rolein demonstrating the strength of Aboriginal familiesin the face of dispossession and low socio-economicstatus. As far as we know, the camps range in datefrom the late nineteenth century to the present.

Kabaila has mapped the location of these camps.100

Other historians have also researched the WellingtonCommon.101 During the case-study, we collectedadditional oral history information about some ofthese camps and visited them with the interviewees.We wanted to understand how people had inter-acted with the land and rivers when living at theselocations. We also wanted to assess whether thecamps and immediate landscape were facingimpacts from salinity.

One of the living places discussed in availableliterature is an unofficial mission known as ApsleyMission (Portion 110). Reverend William Watsonestablished this after he left the former governmentsettlement mission in 1838. At least 60 Wiradjuripeople lived at Apsley Mission.102 Watson movedagain in 1848 to Blakes Fall (Portion 97), on theMacquarie River (immediately north of currentNanima Village).103 Some of Watson’s activities arerecorded in Gunther’s diary. From these records, itappears that Watson was engaged in the removalof Aboriginal children from their parents. Guntherdescribes that Watson became well known byWiradjuri parents living on camps and stations inthe area in the 1840s who feared their childrenwould be taken to live at his unofficial mission.104

The Blakes Fall Mission ran for 18 years untilWatson’s death in 1866, when the land was sold towhite settlers for dairy farming. While Watson wasalive, the Blakes Fall Mission provided some of thelocal Wiradjuri with “a place to put a hut and ameans of supporting themselves”. This was especiallyimportant, as during these years Aboriginal people’saccess to their lands was being steadily reduced.


41

Above: Wellington township and the Town Common (7).


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Above: The main street of Wellington in the late 1940s, a scene familiar to many of the Wiradjuri people who participated in this study.At this time the Aboriginal community was still experiencing levels of government control over their lives. Mitchell Library,State Library of New South Wales.

The search for gold was bringing large numbers ofpeople into the region and increasing the pace ofEuropean settlement.105

From the mid-nineteenth century to the earlytwentieth century, Aboriginal families also lived onland along the Macquarie River between NanimaFalls and the northern boundary of the Blakes FallMission. This area is known today by the names“the old mission” or “Blacks Camp” and takes inthe property currently owned by the University ofNew South Wales. It is estimated that in 1908there were at least 90 people living on BlacksCamp.106 Most of our project interviewees havegrandparents, parents or other relatives who wereborn at this place. For instance, Vivienne Griffintold us that her father, Jack Bell, was born under a eucalypt on “the old mission” signifying his“belonging” to this place.

The historian Heather Goodall notes that in the1880s, Aboriginal self-sufficiency was still highthroughout NSW, “with 81 per cent of theAboriginal population economically independentfrom a mixture of wage or ration labour, farming,

and more traditional subsistence foraging”.107

At Wellington, Wiradjuri people were employed onsurrounding pastoral stations as domestics, shearers,drovers and general farm hands.

By 1910 a decision was made by AboriginesProtection Board (APB) to establish a formalAboriginal Reserve on the Wellington Town Common.A 100-acre corner of the Town Common, lyingadjacent to the southern boundary of Offner’s farm,was set aside. The reserve was named “Nanima”. A school was established at the reserve to encourageAboriginal families to live there. Goodall notes that“most of the Aboriginal reserves created in NSW atthis time (1890s-1910) were farmed and managedby Aboriginal people themselves”.108 Wiradjurielder, Joyce Williams, recalls that in the 1930s:“There was no manager at Nanima. Everyonelooked up to my grandfather and so he was almostlike the manager there. He was English and hemarried my Aboriginal grandmother.”109

People who lived at these reserves talk about astrong sense of community that developed despitethe fact that bodies like the APB could exercise

a great deal of control over many aspects of theirlives. These reserves “meant many things toAboriginal farmers and residents” who saw them“as a recognition, however partial and inadequate,of prior and continuing rights to land”.110 In contrast,rural townspeople saw the reserves as “places inwhich Aboriginal people should be confined,preferably under supervision”.111 This was reflectedin the broad power assigned to the APB in relationto employment, marriage, removal of children,health, consumption of alcohol, possession of firearms, and control of property.

In the first 60 years of the twentieth century the Wellington Wiradjuri, like Aboriginal peoplethroughout NSW, faced severe racial prejudice.Although many Aboriginal people worked asvegetable pickers, domestics, drovers, labourersand shearers, they were not entitled to becomeAustralian citizens, were denied an equal wage,were not allowed to vote or to purchase land, and were excluded from the old age pension ormaternity bonus.112 In rural towns throughoutNSW Aboriginal people “were seen to have noautomatic right to a domestic dormitory area withinthe town boundaries nor any rights of access to thehotel, the stores, the school or the very streets”.113

Also, under the NSW Aborigines Protection Act(1909) the police had authority to remove Aboriginalcamps near towns and transfer people to and from reserves.

Other Aboriginal Reserves located closest to Nanimaat this time were: Bulgandramine near Peak Hill,Talbragar and Barrington River at Dubbo, Dandaloonear Narromine, Eugowra near Forbes, and Ilfordnear Mudgee.114 From the early to mid-twentiethcentury, the APB revoked many of the reserveslisted above so the land could be sold to whitesettlers.115 As this occurred, some Wiradjuri families

moved to unofficial camps located on Crown landin the region, while others moved to reserveslocated further afield. Nanima was one of thereserves which remained open.

The Wellington Town Common is an example of thetype of non-regulated land tenure where, over theyears, both local and displaced Wiradjuri peoplehave been able to establish a home. Aboriginalpeople used this area of land while the WellingtonValley Missions were operating from the 1830s to1860s. Prior to this, the area would have formed apart of the wider landscape, relied upon by Wiradjuripeople for camping, hunting and gathering. Kabailasees the formal gazettal of the “Temporary Common”,in 1868, as an official attempt to contain Aboriginalcamps to an area segregated from Wellingtontownship.116 LeMaistre notes that the land was notintended for sole Aboriginal use.117 Joyce Williamsremembers white people living on the Common forshort periods. The white community has also usedthe land for grazing stock.

Aboriginal families to the present day haveoccupied the Common. Nearly all of the Wiradjuripeople we interviewed for this project have livedthere at some stage in their life. Some families builttheir homes on the Common in an attempt to avoidrestrictions imposed by the APB at Nanima. Otherslived there while they waited for a home to be builtfor them on the reserve. The men and womencontinued to find work in the district.

Farmers and graziers around Wellington, andelsewhere in the state, were reliant on an itinerantlabour force. Many Aboriginal families preferred totravel in search of seasonal work, as it allowed themto keep one step ahead of the authorities trying tocontrol their lives.118 In the 1940s, progressivewelfare legislation was introduced and was applicableto everyone including Aboriginal people who met the


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Above: The shearing shed at The Springs where Wiradjurimen worked.

Above: Rose Chown’s home on the Town Common. This istypical of the homes that people built on the Common.

eligibility criteria. The welfare was introduced underthe Child Endowment Act (1941) and the Invalid andOld Age Pensioners Act (1942). The welfare paymentswere not available to Aboriginal people living onreserves and missions. Due to this, some peopleleft the reserves to receive the payments.119 Theyestablished camps on the fringes of town or at placessuch as the Town Common. At the end of the 1950s,there were approximately 27 families living on theCommon.120 Violet Carr remembers the house builtby her father:

We lived right on the riverbank. My father, William[Kingy] Carr, built a house out of kerosene tins.It was a big place. We had boys and girls bed-rooms. It was painted white and the ceiling wasof hessian. My dad was a shearer. He used toleave home on a Monday morning at 4 o’clockam to be ready on the shearing boards atproperties like “The Springs” at 7 am.

In addition to the Town Common, local Aboriginalfamilies also built homes at Bushrangers Creek onthe other side of Wellington. This area was occupiedfrom at least the 1920s to the late 1960s. It isisolated from the town of Wellington and set withinbush in the folds of the lower slopes of MountArthur. The camp lies on Crown land and is anotherexample of how Aboriginal people used this tenureto secure a living place. Like the Common, peoplelived in tin houses and obtained their water from a hole in the creek. They grew vegetables tosupplement their diet and found yabbies nearby.Rose Chown recalls visiting the camp in the late1950s as a child, to spend time with her grandfatherwho lived there.

He had a tin hut and his garden was madeamongst the trees … He grew one or twovegies like your tomatoes and your cucumber

and your pumpkin because that was our staple. I don’t know if he would have grown potatoesbecause you could get potatoes easy enough atthe market garden, but I can always rememberthe beautiful flowers he grew ... There wereabout four or five huts on the other side of theroad. I’d say a lot of families had been livinghere for quite some time until they wereeventually forced out in the late 1960s.Because in Wellington, back in the earlyEuropean times, there was a big Aboriginalpopulation, I suppose just like us, otherfamilies remained in the area until they wereforced off various places. Curra Creek wasanother spot where they used to live as well.

John Amatto lived at Bushrangers Creek as a boywith his uncle, and has fond memories of the camp.Those living at the camp worked on pastoral stations,at the market gardens on the Bell River Flats andbuilding the road to Mt Arthur. Today, the remainsof a number of huts, bottle dumps and other itemssuch as bed frames and tin cans mark the camp.John showed us the tree he played in as a child, a rock he used as a seat, and the burial site of thehorse used to pull the cart owned by the family helived with.

Curra Creek was another area where Aboriginalpeople camped and lived for extended periods. It too is on the outskirts of Wellington. Aboriginalpeople also lived on the Bell River Flats. In somecases, they lived in huts within the Chinese marketgardens operating there. Joyce Williams remembersthe Aboriginal families living along the Bell RiverFlats in the 1930s:

They used to camp right along the riverbanksthere. They used to camp there because theyused to come in picking beans and pickingonions … It was the Chinese who owned it all,but the Aboriginal people all camped therebecause that’s where they used to work. A lot of them used to call it Lucky’s Garden … There used to be a lot of ducks on the Bell River.We used to get them and this old Chinese lady,Granny Lusik, she used to say, “you get theduck, you give me the duck, I’ll cook all theduck”. The people that camped along the Riverused to say, “oh, Granny Lusik’s cooking, youcould smell it all down the River, it was so good.”

Nearly all the people we interviewed have worked atthe market gardens at some stage in their life. Thegardens were an important source of employmentfor Aboriginal people in Wellington from the


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Above: Joyce Williams and Jamie Carr at Curra Creek nearthe Bell River Flats.

Living & learning

Identity is one of the things you should

have. Every time I see my kids, I say

to remember three things: who you are,

what you are, and where you came from.

John Amatto was born in the late 1930sand spoke about his experience of living atBushrangers Creek and on the Wellington TownCommon in the 1940s and 50s.

Life was good as a kid, it was good. We madeour own fun. We done everything. We hunted,rabbits, fish, you know, …You shared everything.It worked good. Terrific. When we were rabbitingas young fellas, if you didn’t have anything, anyrabbits, or if you had a couple of nets, if youdidn’t have fish, we’d give you fish and someoneelse would give you a couple of rabbits and itwould be all shared around.

We were living in old tin shacks. And believe me,whatever tin it was it was valuable to you, even ifyou got a piece of tin even half the size of this table.We knew when the old Western Stores was chuckingaway their 4-gallon kerosene drums. We used to gointo the tip and get them. We filed down old shearsand cut them down and just opened them out andmade a sheet or long bit of tin. And we’d haveplenty of them for water. You had to carry yourwater from the river with yokes on your back.

All the old people who were out at Nanima and the Common, me grandfather and the older fellas,would give you school and that. I learnt a lot fromme old grandfather and the old men. I learnt a lot.Because when I was one or two my mother andfather died and I was living with me grandfatherthen for most of my growing up life. They werealways moving around. It was only around the townhere and around the Common and back across thegardens. I was always with them backwards andforwards. It was with the old fellas that I got to hearall their stories because you sat there listening towhat they were talking about. It teached you rightfrom wrong. You respected your elders.

Above: John Amatto.

Above: A bed frame and sheets of corrugated iron formpart of the remains of an historic camp at Bushrangers Creek.


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Depression period until the 1970s. Intervieweesexplained that people walked to the gardens fromNanima or the Common, or were picked up in atruck sent by the Chinese owners. People fromCurra Creek, Bushrangers Creek and the town itself,also worked there. The labour force also includednon-Aboriginal people. The interviewees recall thoserelations between the workers and the owners at thegardens were good.

Violet Carr: You could work seven days a weekin the gardens. Say you’d do two days over inone garden, then you’d just walk across theriver and do another two or three days inanother garden. It was good pay, but we usedto make good money because you never usedto draw your money until the weekend. Weknow we got paid the same as the white fellasbecause we used to watch – we used to makesure we all watched our bags being weighedup with the beans.

Employment at the market gardens declined duringthe late 1960s and 1970s when the older managersand workers retired. None of the houses that wereoccupied by the workers have survived. These weredestroyed during floods or salvaged for scrap.Unlike their parents and grandparents, the youngergeneration of today has not had much experiencein the gardens. Many young people have movedelsewhere to seek employment, while the introductionof unemployment benefits also eased pressure totake up this type of work.

The Aborigines Welfare Board (AWB) replaced theAborigines Protection Board in 1940. From the late1940s to 1960s the AWB adopted an assimilationpolicy. The aim was to shift Aboriginal residentsfrom the camps to Aboriginal Reserves and then intohouses in country towns.121 Violet Carr remembersthat during this period her family moved off theWellington Town Common and was given a houseat Nanima. Other residents on the Common were

made to move elsewhere. For example, RoseChown recalls her parents being forced off theCommon by the Welfare authorities in the late 1960s:

Mum and Dad were forced to leave the Commonin 1969. They were given the ultimatum ofeither losing my niece, Billy-Anne, or moving.We moved to Mumbil where my uncles workedon the Dam.

Rose’s grandmother and a few others held on at the Common into the 1970s, but eventually mostpeople moved to Nanima or Wellington. The authorities demolished the homes on theCommon after people moved away, except for thechurch and the two houses currently occupied byRose Chown. Today, Nanima and the Town Commonare still occupied by local Wiradjuri people. Some ofthese people were born in Wellington while othershave come from further afield, such as Peak Hilland Dubbo. Rose Chown returned to the Commonin the early 1990s and with others, lodged a nativetitle claim for the area. This was subsequently grantedas an Indigenous Land Use Agreement under theNative Title Act 1993 (Cth). This outcome officiallyrecognises the fight by Wellington Wiradjuri to retainconnection with their lands.

Places such as the Wellington Town Common,Nanima Reserve, Bushrangers Creek, Blacks Camp,the former missions and camps on pastoral stationsin the district are all held dear. Despite theirassociation with past injustices, they have been thehomes, birthplaces and workplaces of many localWiradjuri and their ancestors. They are also significantas the places where families could live together, gain strength from one another and pass on culturalknowledge. Today, the recognition of the Aboriginalhistorical significance of the reserves and camps, and their subsequent protection and reclamation can contribute to the contemporary processes ofcultural revival and reconciliation.

Wild resource usearound Wellington

Using the land and rivers has been an

important part of many Wiradjuri people’s

experience and cultural identity.

Wild resource use is at the heart of many non-Aboriginal people’s perception of Aboriginal culture.Eating kangaroo, emu and goanna is generallyaccepted as fitting squarely within the realm oftraditional Aboriginal life. What is less well under-stood is how Aboriginal people have continued to use wild foods and medicines throughout theperiod since European settlement and into thepresent day.

In Australia, there have been many debates, someof them in the courts, about whether current wildresource use can be defined as cultural. The useof modern technology or the fact that theseresources may no longer serve as staples has beenseen by some as negating any cultural basis forsuch activity. Recent court decisions have opposedsuch interpretation and argued that “culture” is notstatic, and cannot be constrained in this way.122

At the same time activities like hunting andgathering have been criticised by someconservationists as being unsustainable.123 Therecan be no doubt that the impacts of Aboriginalpeople’s activities need to be considered againstthe overall decline in the health of Australianecosystems, and the fact that modern tools orequipment increase the possibility of over-harvestingthan was the case in the pre-contact period. Greengroups, as part of their opposition to the handbackof NSW National Parks to traditional owners, raisedthe spectre of unsustainable use.124

In reality though, we lack any data about the levelsof take, or the frequency of hunting and gatheringin any part of NSW. What has been established isthat such activity is highly valued by Aboriginalpeople for a wide range of reasons. It allows peopleto continue applying ecological knowledge, assistscross-generational sharing of this knowledge, allowspeople to interact with valued places and also bringshealth, and in some cases, economic benefits.125

It became clear during the oral history componentof this case-study that using the land and rivershas been an important part of many Wiradjuripeople’s experience and cultural identity. RoseChown expressed this importance when describingpeople’s connection to Wellington Town Common.

The land is the importance of your existence.If it was used properly the way it used to beused you had everything you needed from it.It’s the place where you belong and where youcome from ... If you need help from the land inthe way of your medicines you’ll still comeacross them. If you need your tucker you canstill go down to the river here, persevere for a couple of hours, and you’ll find some fish.There are plenty of birds about or go up theback to get a kangaroo.

This connection represents the continuation ofpractices that extend back to the period beforeEuropean settlement and which were noted by thefirst Europeans in the area. The 1832-35 journal of the missionary, JCS Handt, slows that Wiradjuripeople frequently left the mission on the formergovernment settlement to collect wild foods. Handt was unable to stop people from doing this.The following quotes from Handt’s journals describesome of the hunting and gathering at this time.126

— 20 January 1834: It seems impossible to makethem [the Wiradjuri] give up the bush.

— 25 Oct 1833: The man Nerang Jacky, hadfound honey in the bush, and caught someopossums besides, so that all of them hadplenty to eat.

— 19 Sept 1834: Most of the Aboriginal people lefthere this morning to go hunting in themountains after some Wallabins, which, one ofthem said, was a small sort of Cangeroo kind.

— 26 April 1835: I saw the Aborigines in thecamp roasting an Oppossum; thus they hadbeen amusing themselves in hunting.

— 25 August 1835: Two of the Aboriginal womenhad been fishing today and returned with alarge supply, and seemed very proud of their success.

These records illustrate how the use of wild resourcesplayed a role in helping people maintain connectionwith country in the early years of European settle-ment. But wild food collection continues to resonatewith local Wiradjuri people in this way today.


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The role of wild food – 1930s to 1960sGetting and eating bush tucker was rememberedfondly by many of the elders we interviewed. Aschildren, they had access to bushfoods when theirparents were working on pastoral properties, such as“The Springs”, or when travelling the road reserves.

Violet Carr: We had a good diet because Dadused to work and we used to get our propermeals, but when my dad was working atArthurville he used to like getting the bushtucker for us and we used to enjoy that too…They would drive the horses up towards theSprings and that’s where they’d get the biggoannas. It wouldn’t take long to drive outthere and back in a horse and sulky.

Bill Carr: When we were hunting we’d getrabbits, porcupine, possums and goannas.There were plenty of goannas at the Springs.You see the goannas out on the limbs in theearly morning. You could shoot them but theyare very quick. As soon as they see youcoming they go down the hole. You’d have togo hunting with a couple of mates. When I wasyoung I’ve seen them out there at the Springsand you’d have a big fire there and all differentsizes of goannas cooking in the ashes. You’dget a big thick lump of steak. The fat was goodfor your hair and skin.

Evelyn Powell: My mother used to show usthings, when we were travelling along. Mymum and dad used to travel – we only had

horse and sulky, no cars, nothing. But we usedto travel as a family group. And we’d take it inturns, us kids, to get in the sulky and ride along,have a spell, then we’d walk some of the way.As we used to walk along Mum used to showus these possum berries. I loved possum berries.And these old quandongs, heaps used to growalong the Peak Hill road, quandongs, yuliman,and the gum of the wattle tree. Mum used toput it in a jar, put a little water and sugar in itand it tastes like a jellybean.

Bill Carr: We used to cry out to my mother and father when we were travelling in the horseand cart years ago. When we were going fromBulgandramine to Peak Hill to Parkes, Dad usedto say “sing out when you’ve got some quan-dongs and we’ll pull up and give the horse abreak in the shade”. Oh yes, them days weregood days. I’ll never forget them. I’ll rememberthem till the day I die.

The stories present happy memories of bush foodcollection, but it was an activity that also served a utilitarian purpose. The Wiradjuri participantsexplained that using wild resources was a part ofgetting through hard times and dealing with theproblems of low income, unemployment andoppression. Without yellow-belly, rabbit or goanna,many Aboriginal people in the Wellington areawould have gone without meat on many occasions.

For the current elders, activities like camping by a river and relying on wild food for sustenance werecentral elements of their lifestyle. This reflected


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Above: Quandong fruit. Photograph by G Robertson; NSW National Parks and Wildlife Service Photo Library.

both their economic circumstances and theirpossession of local knowledge, which allowed themto find and use a wide range of resources. EvelynPowell, John Amatto and Robert Stewart explainedthat fish and wild meat were combined with store-bought supplies or vegetables from the marketgardens on the Bell River Flats. Several peopleexplained that, during the 1950s and 1960s, they placed a heavy reliance on rabbits.

Joan Willie: If there wasn’t any working or anyshearing to do for farmers then that was the timewe had to survive on our bush food. Rabbitswere always a good meal. Dad used to go aroundthe sides of the hill setting traps. We never atekangaroo. Mum always used to say it was ourtotem food so we never ate it. I never saw manygrowing up. It was mainly the goanna, possumand echidna.

Robert Stewart: We had hard times. A coupletimes I had to go in there and bite the Salvosor the St Vincent de Paul. Before the St Vincentde Paul came here we used to go in to the Policestation and get what you’d call the rations ...In them days there was plenty of rabbits acrossthe river. And the blokes that used to own it,used to allow us over there to get them, becausein one respect we kept them eradicated … mywife cooked the rabbit. She’s the cook. We’dhave them baked, stewed, curried, and boiledwith vegetables.

Joyce Williams: When we were kids and we usedto live on Nanima part of our survival was howwe lived and what we ate and, you know – westruggled. One time, I can remember my mothergoing in to ask the Police for rations and thesergeant he said: “oh Bony’s out shearing, whatdo you want rations for?” Bony was my grand-father, and when they go away shearing they’reaway for a month – four or five weeks you know?But the sergeant never realised that. I remembermy poor mother stood there with tears in hereyes saying to Granny May that he wouldn’tgive us anything.

John Amatto: The market gardens were goodbecause when there wasn’t any work they hadcabbages or cauliflower still in the garden andwe could have whatever they had in the garden.Get some vegetables and all we had to do wasbuy some meat … We relied on rations throughthe winter when all the market gardens stopped… and you had to go and hunt winter and

summer to get something to eat. The only thingthat slackened off in the winter was the fish, see.

Violet Carr: We caught yabbies sometimes if wehad a bit of rabbit on. We’d go to Peak Hill byhorse and sulky and there’s a place just this sideof Peak Hill – they call it “the ten mile hole”.And my brother, he’d be on a bicycle and he’dcatch a rabbit, cut us all a bit. We’d take a loadof crayfish with us, take us no time to get acouple of buckets full. We’d take them intoPeak Hill.

Vivienne Griffin talked about life on the Common inthe late 1960s. She said that people could not havesurvived without the river and its resources. Herfather, Jack Bell, was skilled at making wooden fishtraps, hunting ducks and also finding turtles andtheir eggs, while John Amatto remembered how theold men used to get fish when they were running.

Vivienne Griffin: The bush tucker was animportant part of our diet – fish and rabbit andthe occasional goanna and porcupine and duckwhen you could get it. He used to keep ducks.If he wanted a duck he wouldn’t have to shootit. Dad also showed me how to catch a lot ofducks with a trap. A square trap with a funnelcoming out. He would place the funnel towardsthe water close to the river and he would haveseeds all the way in so the ducks would comeup to the funnel but they didn’t know how toget out.

John Amatto: The old fellas they’d get a lot of fishat different times when they were running. OldBill Stanley, old Tommy Barnes, old Billy Cook,old Kingy Carr, old Ben Harris, they were alwayssitting on the river bank with their lines in.

The role of wild food in recent timesYounger people have also used wild resources, andsome of those we talked to continue to look for anduse goanna, echidna and a range of plant foods andmedicines. Paul West is active in getting wild foodsand medicines for older people in the area who areeither unable to travel because of their age, or don’thave a car. He learned about these resources fromhis grandfather and father while growing up atNanima in the 1960s and 1970s. Paul discussedthe importance of stock-routes and road reservesas areas where access was possible and huntingand plant collecting could occur without arousingthe resentment of landowners. Unlike the older


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generation, Paul sees wild food collection not asa matter of survival, but rather an expression ofcultural identity.

Paul West: It wasn’t a survival thing. It was justsomething you wanted to do. Like being huntersand gatherers it was in our blood. We’d just go.Some of the boys, we’d swim across the river,we’d get a rabbit, we’d walk up to our favouritefishing spot, we’d throw a line in up there, cook arabbit over the coals and if we were luckyenough to catch a fish we’d chuck him straightin the coals and have a feed and then comehome again. That was our day’s activity. Today, itjust depends if some of the elders say they aresuffering or having trouble with their blood orwhatever then I’ll go out and get one [goanna].And I’ll only go and get one or two. I rememberme old man, my pop, and some of the olderlads, they’d go out and come back with ten or soand feed the whole village at a time. That’s theway it used to be then. Today you could go outdrive for 100 or 200 kilometres and you mightsee one or two.

Joan Willie: Dad was always a hunter. We atemostly goannas and rabbits when we were kidsgrowing up. As well as plenty of fish and yabbies… If say for instance he had a car or one of ourfamily had a car then we would go for a drivewith him but he did most of the hunting. I haveone brother. He used to go with Dad a lot and hestill goes today to get goanna. There’s a certaintime of the year when my brother and my mumsay that they get this “taste” and that’s when

they feel like having some. There’s a time whenthe season’s finished for hibernation when theylike to go and hunt for them.

As in other parts of NSW, the level of wild resourceuse has been shaped over time by changing socialconditions, the effects of environmental problems,and the loss of access to land.127 In the Wellingtonarea, such change has been exemplified by thedecline in rural employment since the 1960s.Previous to this, working in shearing sheds, themarket gardens or elsewhere on farms allowedpeople access to wild resources on privateproperties. Today, such opportunity has largely not been available to people under the age of 50.

Equally, the experiences and expectations of morerecent generations have differed markedly fromthose that preceded them. This has been typifiedby greater reliance on store-bought foods and adeclining need to rely on home-grown vegetablesor wild resources. Paul West talked about thischange in relation to the decline in communitymembers relying on work at the market gardens:“ It’s changed so quickly. It seems like yesterday we were in the gardens and today we’re in town.”

Having said this, it is still the case that bothyounger and older informants continue to use wildresources. Fishing in the local rivers would appearto be the main type of activity that people carry outtoday. Fishing can be done without the need togain permission from landowners, or to have accessto a vehicle. Instead, people can walk from theirhomes in Wellington and Nanima to the riverbankand use favoured fishing holes.

A decline in the health of the river would affectpeople’s capacity to fish. The focus topic aboutchanging country, on the opposite page, containspeople’s views on this topic. The Wiradjuri participantsdescribed how river health has declined markedlysince the 1960s. People pointed to the constructionof Burrendong Dam, the clearing of riparianvegetation and the introduction of carp as key factorsin changing the integrity of local river systems. It ishere that salinity would appear to intersect mostclosely with people’s interests in their heritage andlandscape. As salinity progressively affects waterquality, it will contribute significantly to the accelerateddecline in river health.


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Above: This section of road reserve is on the route betweenPeak Hill and Wellington and still contains several food andmedicine plants and sites such as scarred trees.

Changing country

During the interviews we asked people

about changes to country, focusing

on the rivers as a landscape feature.

The following quotes reflect the strong

response we received on this topic.

Evelyn Powell I went down there to Dubbo and even the riversdown there are not the same like they used to be.Out towards Narromine and the Macquarie river.There was just a great big island in the middle ofthe river and just a little bit of water trickling around.

I’ve never seen the rivers like that before … I’d beenso used to seeing it full, you know, chockablockfull, filled up, flowing with fresh water and you seethere were plenty of things in the river then, plentyof fish, plenty of ducks and the old black shags.

The rivers were full of fish, chockablock full. The turtles, long-necked and short-necked turtles,

we’d cook them up and eat them. You don’t seethem no more. They’re gone – turtles, mussels.And big mussels, the bigger ones. ‘Cause when Iwas kid, we used to dive for them. You know theylived right down in the river. We used to dive rightdown in the middle of the river to get the great big mussels …

The rivers are terrible now. It is nothing like whenwe used to live on the banks of the rivers inDubbo, the Macquarie. My mother-in-law andmyself would have got fish for breakfast. You’d godown there, fish with a line, be down there forabout fifteen minutes, up you’d come with a coupleof big yellow-bellies, cod or catfish. It was so simple.

Vivienne GriffinWhen Dad was alive we was right. We werepretty self-sufficient. We had a milking cow.We had fowls and that and Dad had a few pigs.But we lived a lot off the river because you hada variety of fish then. We had the yellow-belly,catfish and cod then, and they’re very big fishesand would last a long time. But after dad diedit was around about that time that theyintroduced carp and it wiped out a lot.

John Amatto We had all different parts along the river we’d gofishing, just like anybody else. If it wasn’t bitingthere then we’d go up a bit further. But, we usedto make fish traps and everything. When they putBurrendong Dam in the river banks would get realdry and the water would come down and cut thebanks away. When the river started drying and thefish started going it was a big change. A lot of thepeople changed their diets because the fishwasn’t around.

Above: Soil erosion, Wellington, NSW, 1944.Mitchell Library, State Library of New South Wales.

Above: Macquarie River, Wellington, NSW, 1944.Mitchell Library, State Library of New South Wales.

Wild resources mentioned in the interviews(Species given in brackets after common names)

Food or medicine Notes

Berries Joyce Williams, Violet Carr, Joan Willie and Evelyn Powell mentioned several different types of berrieswhich they ate when they were children. These included bungiens (possibly Persoonia sp), wild cherry(Exocarpos cupressiformis and E aphyllus), possum berries (Myoporum debile), native cranberry(Astroloma humifusum), and nightshade (Solanum nigrum).

Black swan Joyce Williams remembers her grandfather getting black swans on the Macquarie River below Nanimain the 1930s.

Bush tomato John Amatto said that he’d like to see the bush tomato (Solanum sp.) come back.

Duck Joyce Williams and Vivienne Griffin remember ducks being caught on the Macquarie and Bell Rivers.

Echidna Everybody mentioned the echidna as an especially delicious meat “tastes like pork”. Echidna’s werecaught in ‘the Pines’ above Nanima and across the River.

Eucalypts Evelyn Powell explained how all parts of eucalypts were used, including bark and wood for huts andleaves in cooking or to make tea or mattresses. John Amatto pointed out an old yellowbox on CurraCreek from which people cut bark to use as a medicine for diahorrea.

Fish Everybody mentioned that native fish species, such as yellow-belly, catfish and cod are still caughttoday, albeit in lower numbers than used to occur.

Goanna Goanna is known by the Wiradjuri name “goo gah” and is another meat that is still relished. Today, Paul West gets goannas (the tree goanna) for the elders in Nanima and Wellington.

Mistletoe John Amatto has used mistletoe to treat scabies on his daughter. Bill Carr remembers that the berrieswere eaten when walking cross country between properties when working or hunting.

Milk weed Everybody mentioned milk weed (Euphorbia drummondii) as a treatment for minor cuts or sores.

Mussels Evelyn Powell remembers diving for mussels in the rivers when she was a girl.

Nut grass John Amatto said that nut grass (Hypoxis sp or Cyperus sp) grew along the rivers. As a young man,John used to roast the tubers when he was low on other supplies.

Old man weed Evelyn Powell mentioned that old man weed (Centipeda cunninghamii) was used by people when shewas growing up as a medicine for treating skin complaints.

Possum Bill Carr said that he used to catch possums for tucker when he was working on properties in the southwest of the state.

Quandong Everybody mentioned quandong (Santulum acuminatum). Very few trees grow around Wellington. Theytend to grow in the west of the region near Peak Hill. John Amatto remembers one tree on a propertyon the other side of Mt Arthur which has since been removed. Evelyn Powell and Bill Carr have fondmemories of getting the fruit around Peak Hill. Joan Willie remembers using the seeds to play a game,Bully One and Bully Two, when she was a girl.

Rabbit Rabbits were commonly caught during the Depression years and War for their pelts. Rabbits were eatenas a staple up until Myxomatosis reduced their numbers in the 1960s.

Turtle Evelyn Powell remembers that turtle was caught on the rivers for tucker when she was a girl.

Yathanda The leaves of yathanda (Eremophila longifolia) were mentioned by a number of the interviewees asa highly valued medicine for treating skin complaints and is still collected by people today.

Yams Evelyn Powell remembers getting yams: chocolate daisy (Dichopogon fimbriatus and strictus); and wildturnip (Brassica tourneforti or Rapistrum rugosum) when she was living on the Macquarie River as achild.

Yabbies and crayfish Violet Carr remembers getting yabbies near Peak Hill. John Amatto and Rose Chown both remembergetting yabbies from Bushrangers Creek. Vivienne Griffin remembers that people living on the TownCommon often caught yabbies in the nearby creeks, dams and river.

Yarran Evelyn Powell remembers that yarran wood (Acacia homalophylla) was favoured by her husband,Fred Powell, to make boomerangs. Her mother used the gum from acacia to make a sweet drink.


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Medicinesin the bush

BILL CARR: There were not many of our

people around in them years that went to

the doctors. They’d find their own medicinein the bushes.

Most people’s recollections of bush medicines werequalified by their current concerns about lack ofaccess to these resources.

Vivienne Griffin

It’s important knowledge and there’s a lot of it outthere. It’s important for our people to know alltheir medicines and at some point to get together.On the road to Dubbo there is an emu bush.People from all over, Aborigines, you know, come to that one spot because that’s the only spotwhere they know to get this emu bush. Its goodfor a lot of things. One Aboriginal gentleman wasexperimenting with that for his blood sugar. It gotto one point where he was grounding it down tomake tablets out of it.

Paul West

There are only a couple of medicine plants thatare left around here. Like the yathanda bush.You’ve got to travel half way to Dubbo to find onelittle bush on the side of the road. There is a lot ofelderly people who know where it is and the besttime to get it is when the new shoots are comingoff and so you think you are getting there first butall the new shoots are cut off … There used to bemore of this stuff in the road reserves. I remembermy dad taking us over to Peak Hill and comingback with a boot-load of leaves. I was just a youngfella at the time.

Joan Willie

Goanna oil was used quite a lot, especially forarthritis. I can remember smelling goanna oil quitea lot on my grandmother. Sometimes they used tojust get the goanna fat and they used to buy thegoanna oil as well.

Evelyn Powell

There’s that certain time of the year that I get areal taste for goo gaa and that’s round about springtime, when I know they’re coming down off thetrees. It’s then that I often say to my son, “Sonyou’d better get me a couple of goo gaas, I’m realhungry”. But, you can’t go and shoot them nowlike you used to. They’re protected. Somebodyshould start a goo gaa farm.

John Amatto

You can eat the berries off those mistletoe. And you can use the leaves. I used that on mydaughters. That was back in the 1950s for scabies.It was bad then. They sent her home from thehospital just like a little mummy, wrapped inbandages, and they said we had to rub this creamover her and give her these antibiotics. But I wentand got the mistletoe, boiled it up and washed her all over with it and just lay her there. Didn’twrap her up or anything and within a week shewas better.

… There used to be a lot of medicine plants outthere at Mount Arthur, but a big bushfire’s beenthrough and burnt everything out.

Above: Eremophila longifolia is valued as a medicine plant.

Concerns about access to foods & medicines The Wiradjuri participants explained that it wasdifficult to find plant foods and medicines close toWellington. The focus page about bush medicinecontains people’s views on this topic. Many peoplebelieve that clearing has severely restricted theirability to find valued plants. Paul West stated that itis now even difficult to find these plants in roadsidereserves or on travelling stock-routes. A number ofthe interviewees talked about an emu bush on theroad between Wellington and Dubbo and stated thatit is the only one of a few that people can find andaccess in the area. There would seem to be a reallink between loss of access to plants and declininguse of these resources today, especially by thosewho have not had a childhood exposure to them.

Paul West: There are few medicine plants aroundtoday that I know of. Stock have got to them anda lot of farmers don’t realise what they are andhave poisoned them. Ploughed them into theground and burnt them or whatever. A coupleof months ago I took a school group up to MountArthur for a bush medicine course and we onlyfound three things that were any good. Too manyferal goats and pigs running through there.

Importantly, the opportunity to continue using wildresources was highlighted as a major concern.People wish to continue fishing, hunting andcollecting plant foods or medicines. Such activityhas been described as both an expression ofcultural identity, and as simply a part of life. PaulWest and Rose Chown emphasised the role thatthese activities can play in giving young people asense of their own cultural identity. Paul is activelyinvolved in taking school children on bush tripswhere they are shown how to find plant foods or

track a goanna. He also takes this type of knowledgeinto the classroom by giving talks and cooking wildfoods. The focus page, opposite, contains PaulWest’s views on his experience.

The Wellington Town Common is also seen aspotentially playing a major role in allowing localWiradjuri people to access and use plant foods andmedicines. Rose Chown has indicated that thereare plans to revegetate sections of the Commonwith valued plants. This is seen as an opportunityto combine environmental restoration with thepromotion of cultural practices.

Vivienne Griffin & Rose Chown: I do think ourtraditional medicine is important. I’ve comeacross a lot of young people who have asked mewhat would you use to treat this and that. Theyhave often tried other medicines that don’t work.They ask me specifically whether an Aboriginalmedicine be of use and are inquisitive enoughto want to know and try it. It’s important, I think,to pass this on to the young ones. One of themain aims here is to reintroduce bush medicinesback to the Common, after we’ve controlled thestock, because I believe there was a time wheneverything we needed was here.

At Nanima and the local high school, Joan Willieindicated that she would like to see the establishmentof bush tucker gardens that would allow children andteenagers to have the experience of identifying andusing plant foods.128

Joan Willie: When I was a child we hadabsolutely nothing, but what we did have wasthe time to be able to walk around, to play, or to go and look for fruit and berries and I would really dearly love to see that restored.Especially here in Nanima where a lot of thekids don’t have much of a playground. As astart, you would have to get the gardeners to doit. The gardeners who have a love for wantingto see things be productive and beneficial forthe kids. There’s always land here set aside forthat sort of thing. But it really would need theright people to look after it and turn it over andyou would need to fence it off. You would alsoneed to discipline the kids if you were going toput a project like that up … I’m also interestedin putting a bush tucker garden in the highschool. We have to grow these plants to getregular access to these foods because otherareas like Mount Arthur are off limits or protected.


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Above: Community members at the March for Reconciliation,Wellington, 2002.

Keeping it going

Paul West is the Aboriginal liaison officer

for the Police Force in the Wellington area.

Paul was born in 1962 and lived at Nanima

for 20 years. He feels strongly about passing

on cultural knowledge to young people.

Me old man and me grandfather taught me a fairbit about bush tucker out at Nanima. I’d say thatwas one of our daily things we did out there. Justgoing and fishing a little bit. … Grandfather FredWest he’d take us out and taught us how to cleangoannas and porcupines and the best way to cookthem … If one person had a car then they’d allthrow in for fuel and they’d all go out hunting. On the odd occasion they’d have a spare seat andthrow me or me brother in or one of the youngerkids from Nanima. They’d mainly go on roadways.Mainly on dirt tracks, farmers tracks or on stock-routes. Back in those days no one harassed us ornothing, but it must have been about 20 yearsago, me brothers and that got a couple of goannas,and a cocky rang up and when we came intoWellington, the coppers got us on the corner. Wehad five goannas and we were charged with takingfauna. The court case went for five years but it waseventually thrown out. Our case was that it wasour native tucker. They didn’t want us gettingthem as long as we got them the

traditional way, but I said, hang on a minute, you loteducated us. Its just the way it is today.

Today, I run a program through the holiday periodcalled Breaking the Cycle. I take the 19–22 year oldkids through the bush tracking down animals. Goannasand porcupines. They don’t know about their cultureand if I don’t pass what knowledge I have on to themthey’ll never know. Because the culture is slowly dyingand I’m trying to keep it going.

Everything I know I’m passing on to my family, my kids.I’m just trying to pass it on to the younger kids … I takethem out down the bush tracks where I remember mydad and my pop and the old people taking me outthere. So it’s like an imprint.

When we’re tracking it down and they’re walking andscratching their heads and thinking “na there’snothing out here, they’re having a go at us”, and whenwe do find what we are looking for, the expression ontheir faces makes it all worth it. When I do the culturaltrips with the kids I get the PCYC involved with theirbus. Sometimes it’s a 16-seater and its chocabloc fullof these kids coming out. Some are just there for alook and to see what happens. Others just want to getaway from the town for the day, but if I get one or twoin the group who want to carry on with it thenI think the trip’s been successful.

Above: Children outside Nanima School, 1965.Mitchell Library, State Library of New South Wales.

Above: Goanna. Photograph by P Green.


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Archaeological sitesLearning how Aboriginal sites are distributed

in the study area was an important step

in assessing the implications of salinity

for the local archaeological record. The map

produced during the case-study showed that

there is a very strong correlation between

salinity outbreaks and areas with a high

potential for open sites and archaeological

deposits.

What can archaeology tell us?Consideration of the nature and distribution ofpre-contact archaeological sites in the study areaformed another element of the project. Pre-contactAboriginal sites such as scarred trees, artefactscatters, burials and axe grinding grooves representa major element of this country’s cultural heritageand are highly valued by Aboriginal people. In somecases they represent locations to which peoplereturn to make contact with their heritage andto pass knowledge on to younger generations.

These places can show us how Aboriginal peoplelived, managed the land and interacted with oneanother over many thousands of years. Theyconstitute a physical reminder of Aboriginalpeople’s long occupation of this continent, and are woven into people’s contemporary identity and perception of the cultural meaning of land.

By analysing the location and distribution ofarchaeological sites across a landscape, we candevelop theories or models about Aboriginal people’sland-use strategies and aspects of ceremonial life.Often, such analysis will be combined withinterpretation of ethnographic and historicaccounts of Aboriginal life, as well as oral history.

The discovery and recording of Aboriginal sites, inCentral West NSW, has generally occurred duringenvironmental impact assessment. Today, manysites remain undiscovered in the region. A numberof larger academic or management studies haveoccurred. These include a Phd thesis by Pearson,an investigation of the Wyangala Dam area, and

a survey of Goobang National Park.129 The latterstudies did not aim to investigate archaeologicalmaterial across all of the different environmentspresent in the Central West.

Pearson’s study is the most comprehensive anddemonstrates the nature and distribution of archae-ological sites in the Wellington area, and elsewherein the upper Macquarie River valley. He usedethnographic and historic accounts of Aboriginalpeople in the region and an analysis of primaryenvironmental variables to construct a settlementpattern which he argued would produce a particulararchaeological signature. He points out that suchanalysis is hampered by the fact that Europeanobservers failed to look at settlement and land-usestrategies in detail, even in the earliest years ofoccupation when Aboriginal people were still able touse much of their country.

Pearson proposed that the Wiradjuri would havesited their camps within short distance of bothwater and a range of ecosystems. Today, we canexpect to find traces of ancient campsites in areasadjacent to major watercourses and along associatedstream networks. Some parts of the landscapewould have been favoured, such as the junctionsof major creeks with rivers, where access to water,woodland, grassland and riparian vegetation werewithin easy reach. Ceremonial sites, such as stonearrangements, generally occur in areas away frommain living sites. Early settlers at Wellington reportedthe presence of a bora ground “near the rich greenbanks of the Macquarie River”. This indicates thatin some cases, ceremonial sites were not hiddenin rougher, less accessible terrain.

Pearson sought to test his hypotheses with sitesurvey work. In the Wellington Valley he found thatmost open campsites tended to occur in flat areasadjacent to watercourses. A smaller number werefound in hilly or undulating terrain, often overlookingor adjacent to valley floors. He interpreted the latteras representing the need to camp above the cold riverflats in winter, to gain shelter from prevailing winds,and obtain views of the surrounding country.132

Apart from Pearson’s investigation, only isolatedenvironmental impact projects and a small numberof individual site recordings provide archaeologicaldata on the Wellington area. To date, Pearson’ssimple model of site distribution lies unchallenged.In reality, the Wiradjuri would have engaged in acomplex pattern of land-use shaped by seasonalvariability and social rules and relations. How such

patterns would manifest in the archaeologicalrecord of Wellington requires further research andinvestigation.

The analysis of assemblages, by means of surfacerecording, excavation and site comparison, allowsthe interpretation of the content and meaning of opensites. It is difficult to assess the significance ofarchaeological sites in regions where suchresearch is absent. Accordingly, it is hard to makemanagement decisions about individual sites.How does a land manager know if a site is locallyor regionally significant? Does remediation of asalinity outbreak require special attention to archae-ological issues?

During this project two steps were used to give landmanagers, the community and government a basisfor understanding the pre-contact archaeology of theWellington area and the development of appropriatemanagement strategies. The first was to develop abasic map of archaeological sensitivity for the localregion. The second involved detailed assessment oftwo sites exposed on salt scalds and an ensuinganalysis of the value of such investigation on a widerscale. Both are discussed in detail below.

Mapping archaeological sensitivityConstructing a map of archaeological potential was animportant step to assess the implications of salinity forthe local archaeological record. Ailing Hsu,Geographic Information System officer, undertook themapping in collaboration with the study team.

The map takes in 13,000 km2 that spans most of the Wellington local government area and a section of the Dubbo’s local government area. A total of 241known open site locations and 1000 randomlyselected “pseudo sites” were used as the basis for statistical analysis following a logistic multipleregression technique. The analysis aimed to determinewhat environmental factors influence site location. It compared the location of the known and “pseudosites”, taking into account environmental variablessuch as slope, aspect, landform (terrain position), soil type, stream order and distance to water. The slope and aspect data were derived from a digital elevation model and all analysis was doneover a 25-metre grid cell.

The results confirm that the known sites havedifferent characteristics compared to the “pseudosites”. Moreover, they suggest that a set of environ-mental factors is common to most known sites. Thefour variables exhibiting this difference were ruggedness,

distance to water, soil type and landform. The meanvalues for other variables, such as slope and aspect,did not differ between the known sites and the“pseudo sites”.

The study concluded that open campsites are locatedsignificantly closer to water and on flatter terrain thanthe “pseudo sites”. The analysis generated a mapthat divides the study area into zones of high, mediumand low potential to contain surface and sub-surfaceopen campsites or artefact scatters.

The map was then compared with the salinity out-break data for the study area. This revealed that thereis a very strong correlation between salinity outbreaksand areas with a high potential for open sites andsub-surface deposits. Overall, 77% of known mappedsalinity outbreaks correspond with areas of highpotential archaeological sensitivity.

It is important to note that the map does not considerother site types such as burials, scarred trees, axegrinding grooves and rock art. Too few of these sitetypes were present in the study area to allow statisticalanalysis. Equally, it does not model potential variationin open site assemblages that may reveal specificland-use strategies.

Despite this, the map is a useful planning tool, especiallywhen used as a layer in a Geographic InformationSystem. For example, it can help determine whethernew salinity outbreaks have a high potential to affectopen sites and deposits. It is also a basis for designingcatchment or sub-catchment archaeological recordingprograms. This issue is discussed in Chapter 4.

Analysis of salinity-affected sitesTwo separate artefact scatters (open sites) exposedon salt scalds were recorded in detail. This study hadtwo aims. The first was to determine the effects ofsalinity on open sites. The second was to determineif archaeologists can obtain useful information fromsuch sites. This component of the project has helpeddevelop the management options presented inChapter 4.

Importantly, the purpose of this study was not to provideregion-wide data on open sites. It had a specific salinityfocus, while, at the same time capturing detailedinformation to build a framework for open site researchin the area.

The archaeological work is detailed in two separatereports commissioned by the DEC.133 The fieldworkinvolved sampling areas of artefact concentration


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on both scalds, and mapping their location ontosurveyors’ plans. The resulting maps allowedanalysis of the spatial patterning of artefacts. A second stage was commissioned after heavy rainhad fallen in the region. It was decided that thisprovided an opportunity to use the baseline recordingwork done at one scald on “Easterfield” to assesswhether later artefact movement could be detected.

The study had a number of important conclusionsabout the affects of salinity:

– The death of vegetation and erosion of soil hasa cumulative impact on archaeological deposits(A Horizon soils). This causes a break-down ofarchaeological deposits and the exposure ofartefacts on hard B Horizon surfaces. Artefactdisplacement is greatest where the eroded surfaceis sloping and where there are land-uses like grazing.

– The research potential of these sites reduces asthis process advances.

– The research value is higher in areas with remnantarchaeological deposits (A Horizon soils) where

the impact of salinity-induced soil erosion is notas advanced.

– Artefacts lying on the exposed scalds have moved a minimum of 2–5 metres due to erosion,stock trampling and ploughing. In general, thedistribution of artefacts reflects little about originalsite structure. Any subsequent movement byremediation activities, such as minor ripping orreplanting, is unlikely to cause greater movementof artefacts than has already occurred.

– The second-stage analysis at the “Easterfield”scald confirms that the distribution of artefacts isconstantly changing. What is present at any onepoint in time is likely to reflect taphonomicprocesses rather than original site structure.

The archaeological assessment reveals that it ispossible to obtain a limited amount of data throughsurface recording at open sites affected by salinity.The research value of such sites relates to the levelof disturbance caused by erosion and other factors.The analysis of the assemblages allows us to makeonly general conclusions:

– Broad variation in the artefact assemblages atthe sites might reflect diverse occupation eventsor types.

– Different stone materials dominated at each site,suggesting their proximity to dissimilar stonesources.

– Overall, assemblage content is affected by150 years of artefact souveniring.

– Aboriginal people used creek networks extensively.This may have involved the extended occupationby large groups.

The results suggest that artefact scatters, especiallyon long-established scalds subject to grazing pressure,have a limited capacity to provide information aboutsite structure and stone working techniques. Plottingthe exact distribution of artefacts is not worthwhile.Instead, archaeologists should strive to record samplesof artefact types in defined areas of the scald. Suchanalysis would allow us to develop a general under-standing of assemblage characteristics, but this maybe the extent of useful data retrievable from suchlocations. The recovery of more complex archae-ological data is possible by excavation of relativelyintact deposits. Such deposits occur in unscaldedareas or even within remnant soil islands associatedwith scalds.

This study did not involve excavation. Accordingly,we did not assess the archaeological value ofploughed soils located off-scald, or within soilislands associated with the scalds. Existing research


58

Above: Diagram based on mapping of “Easterfield” showingthe correlation between the boudaries of the visible stoneartefact scatter, predicted areas of archaeological potential,and dry-land salinity outbreaks.

into the effects of ploughing on archaeologicaldeposits suggests that artefact displacement throughthis activity is not always significant, or can at leastbe surmised and hence factored into archaeologicalanalysis during excavations.134 While there is ongoingdebate about the effects of tillage on deposits, thiswould suggest that even in ploughed landscapes,the onset of salinity and/or soil erosion would have a greater impact on the archaeological record thanploughing. Hence, the prevention of salinityextending into ploughed areas could represent a good cultural heritage outcome. Of course, thiswould be higher if the areas being saved from salinityhad never been ploughed, as they would have aneven greater likelihood of containing interpretablearchaeological remains.

In Chapter 4 we put forward ideas for ensuringa realistic and structured approach to managingarchaeological sites in salinity-affected regions.This approach requires commitment to a certainlevel of archaeological assessment in prioritylandscapes, as well as support for salinity manage-ment which would help ensure the retention of asyet unaffected areas of the archaeological record.

Salinity in the Wellington districtAnalysis of land management options has

been progressing in the study area for a

number of years. When combined with actions

targeted at cultural sites and values, there

is a good possibility of repairing or preventing

the effects of environmental decline on

Aboriginal heritage values.

Salinity has been identified as one the greatestenvironmental threats facing Central Western NSW.A salinity audit conducted by the Murray-DarlingBasin Commission Ministerial Council predicts thatthe Macquarie, Bogan and Castlereagh catchmentswill eventually have some of the highest salt-loadlevels in the basin. This means that salt levels inmany parts of these catchments will exceed WorldHealth Organisation standards for drinking waterand also cause serious ecological damage.135

Salinity was first identified in the Central West in the 1920s. The management of salinity in the

region gained a level of government and communityattention after the establishment of Salt Actionfunding and the Decade of Landcare thatcommenced in 1990. It appears that salinity wasone of the major issues identified by Landcaregroups that formed in the region at this time.A number of planning studies has been conductedin the region which aim to address the problem.These include a salinity risk assessment of theMacquarie, Bogan and Castlereagh catchments.136

The Wellington case-study is located in the mid-catchment area. Salinity outbreaks are widespreadin this part of the catchment and manifest asscalds, vegetation changes and saline seeps.Increased salt loads in streams have also beendetected. The case-study takes in sections of fivesub-catchments; Goolma Creek, Little River, BellRiver, Maryvale-Geurie and the Burrendong DamStorage Tributaries. Of these, four have a high or very high salinity hazard rating and one has a medium rating.137

Dryland and river salinity is dominant in the CentralWest, with increasing evidence of urban salinityalso being noted in many towns. Salt damage toroads and structures in and around Wellington canbe clearly seen. A recent survey of farmers in theMacquarie-Castlereagh region indicates that atleast 497 farms in the area are salinity-affected.138

A range of issues complicates the management ofsalinity in this part of the catchment. The SalinityRisk Assessment report highlights the challengesfor natural resource managers. Financial pressureson landowners are a significant impediment tochange. Most landowners can commit only a smallamount of their resources to on-farm salinity


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Above: Stone artefacts and the remains of hearths (foreground)erode out of the upper 30 to 40 centimeters of the soil profileand lie exposed on the hard surface of scalds.

mitigation. In some cases, salinity-affected landneeds to be taken out of production. However, manylandowners say that they cannot afford to do so.

Managing Aboriginal heritage in this context isjust as complex as an attempt to manage naturalsystems. Salinity is only one factor affecting eco-system health and sustainability of lands within thestudy area. Widespread loss of biodiversity, declinein stream health, and the effects of a long historyof soil erosion are all threatening the region. Thischallenges landowners, government staff andconservationists to seek practical and balancedsolutions to environmental degradation. The wordsof the Wentworth Group’s report are especiallyrelevant to areas of NSW, such as the Central West:

The development of new farming systems thatdo not harm the environment while generatingincome to support communities must be anurgent goal for rural Australia … We need toinvest in landscape scale, regional recoveryplans across the over cleared landscapes, bystitching back isolated patches of remnantbush, and by revegetating river corridors andrecharge areas.139

To conclude on a positive note, the investigation ofland management options has been progressing inthe Wellington region for a number of years. Thiswork has included analysis of salinity impacts,revegetation trials, salinity remediation, the provisionof advice and technical expertise to farmers, andthe development of catchment management plans.The ensuing improvement to ecosystem health hasthe potential to achieve social and cultural outcomesfor the catchment. This issue is discussed in detailin Chapter 4.

What are the effects of salinityon cultural values at Wellington?Concerns about country and wild resourcesBecause salinity affects landscapes, it has thepotential to affect Aboriginal people’s notion of“country”. Rivers, landforms and vegetation areintegral parts of cultural landscapes, and in thissense they are associated with intangible values.This means that people may not simply be concernedabout the loss of individual sites, wild foods orwater quality. Rather, they may feel that a deeperaspect of their heritage is adversely affected.

Some of the Wiradjuri participants expressed thisview. For example, Paul West and Evelyn Powellmade strong statements about salinity. Evelyn’s words,cited at the beginning of this book, encapsulate thedepth of feeling on this issue. Such concernunderlines the need to view Aboriginal heritage ina landscape context, and to base its management ona holistic approach that recognises both tangible andintangible aspects of people’s sense of place. It alsoemphasises that efforts made to improve ecosystemhealth have the potential to generate social or culturaloutcomes associated with intangible values linked toconcepts like “country” and “well-being”. InvolvingAboriginal groups in environmental managementrecognises these values. Through such involvement,Aboriginal people can reclaim a custodial interest inthe land and reinforce their cultural identity.

It is also necessary to consider the broad contextwhen looking at the effects of salinity on wildresources. At present, this threat is perhaps strongestin the area of aquatic resources. Salinity is asignificant issue in watercourses like the MacquarieRiver. However, there is little information about theeffects on native fish species, such as Murray codand yellow-belly. Some researchers have suggestedthat increased salinity may affect species distribution,breeding and long-term viability. The Wiradjuriparticipants provided anecdotal evidence of a declinein river health and the abundance of native fish overthe last 30 or 40 years, citing the impacts ofclearing and bank modification, gold dredging, flow regulation, and cooler water temperaturescreated by the release of cold water fromBurrendong Dam. Salinity appears to be one of many threats to the sustainability of rivers like the Macquarie.

Our capacity to understand the current or potentialimpact of salinity on terrestrial resources like foodand medicine plants, goanna, echidna and kangaroois also limited. The oral history research in this studysuggests that resources once favoured by Wiradjuripeople, like quandongs, emu bush and goanna,have suffered local and regional decline due to thelong-term effects of vegetation clearance and thegeneral worsening of environmental health. Levels of current use have also been damaged by loss of access to land, changing lifestyle, variableknowledge about wild foods, overgrazing,intensification of agriculture, fire and feral pests.

Again, data on valued species is hard to find. The vegetation and fauna surveys undertaken in the Little River catchment in the western half of the


60

case-study area are perhaps a good indication of the scale of this decline. As noted earlier, this studyfound that most vegetation communities, in areasaway from rocky or elevated terrain, have beencleared or left as patchy remnants in poor condition.There can be little doubt that wild resourcesassociated with these communities, like goanna and echidna, have suffered significantly.

Salinity may be worsening the situation and furtherthreatening the viability of valued species. It wouldcertainly threaten remnant vegetation in valley floorand low-lying environments. Research has shownthat past clearing has taken a heavy toll in theseareas. Salinity is a potential source of stress forsuch vegetation communities and associatedfauna. Equally, it has the potential to threatenvegetation on riverbanks and in road reserves andstock routes which, historically, have been areasaccessed by Aboriginal people for an array ofresources.

At a site-specific level, salinity does not appearto be threatening the medicine plant used byWiradjuri people on the road between Wellingtonand Dubbo, but it may have already contributedto the loss of plants from other areas used bypeople in the past. However, people’s capacity tokeep using fishing spots, which have been usedfor generations, may also be impacted if riverhealth continues to deteriorate due to the effectsof problems like salinity. Associated riparianvegetation that provides shade for fishers andhabitat for native fish may also be affected.

Underpinning all of this discussion is the realitythat Wiradjuri people have steadily lost access towild resource places since the 1960s, when workon farms in the region began to decline. Propertiessuch as “The Springs” are areas where people couldobtain goanna and other resources during theirtime working in the shearing sheds. It appears thatthe tradition of using these areas, and people’scapacity to pass this practice on to young people,declined with the onset of restructuring in the ruralworkforce. It is also possible that the provision ofsocial welfare benefits, from the 1960s onward, alsoreduced people’s reliance on wild foods. From thisperspective, specific aspects of wild resource usewould have declined with, or without, the onset of salinity.

The loss of access to private land has increasedthe significance of access to Crown lands like roadreserves and riverbanks. The fight by local Wiradjuri

people to gain control of the Wellington TownCommon exemplifies the importance of such lands.It is revealing that one of the key aims of thoseassociated with the Town Common is to revegetateit with valued species and to allow access to foodsand medicines.

Finally, a primary issue to consider at Wellington,is whether salinity affects Aboriginal people’s desireto embark on projects of cultural renewal, such asreplanting wild foods and medicines. Plantingsneed to be done with a full awareness of thesalinity threat and how to combat it. This mayrequire using salt-tolerant species, choosinglocations very carefully, and blending food andmedicine plants with other salt-tolerant plants.It may also be necessary to undertake mounding,ripping or other salinity management actions at theplanting locations. Collaboration would be requiredbetween Aboriginal people and organisations likeDIPNR and Greening Australia to meet thischallenge. Moreover, research into the effects ofsalinity on terrestrial and aquatic ecosystems couldprovide important information for Aboriginal peopleseeking to employ sustainable and long-term wildresource use.

Effects on historic places andtown infrastructureIt appears that the historic or post-contact placesidentified during the case-study are not affected bysalinity. They include the post-contact camps atBushrangers Creek, the Wellington Town Common,Blacks Camp, the convict stockade site and themarket gardens. No visible salinity outbreaks wereobserved at these locations. Having said this, theWellington Town Common and the Blacks Campare characterised by heavily cleared landscapes,a lack of habitat for local species and limitedcapacity in their current condition to provide wildfoods or medicines.

Nanima Village does not appear to be sufferingdirectly from salinity although it is possible thatwatertables are high in this area and may threatenstructures and services in the future.

In Wellington itself, Knuckey’s Store has historicaland social significance to the Aboriginal communitydue to its role in distributing rations during the firstfew decades of the twentieth century. It is likely thatsalinity affects this structure. A number of buildingsare also directly associated with current Aboriginal


61

organisations and services. These include theAboriginal Medical Centre, the Land Council building,Youth Centre and the Orana Aboriginal DevelopmentCorporation building. Salinity impacts to thesestructures may generate significant costs and might eventually threaten the capacity of theseorganisations to conduct their business.

Urban salinity and associated decline in drinkingwater quality, roads and open space may also havesocial impacts. The financial cost of remediatingdamage such as potholes in roads, weakenedstructures, dying street trees and park plantings mayplace a burden on local ratepayers and businesses.

Effects on archaeological sitesThe modelling work undertaken for this projectindicates that 77% of mapped salinity outbreakscoincide with areas defined as having a higharchaeological potential. Seepages and scalds arecommonly found on flats and banks adjacent todrainage lines, and in many areas it is possibleto visit affected areas and discover archaeologicalmaterial such as artefact scatters and, lesscommonly, hearths. The site assessment under-taken by ERM Australia confirmed that in scaldedareas, archaeological deposits have been brokendown and dispersed. The severity of thisdisturbance varies according to a number offactors. These include, slope, land-use history,and the severity of the salinity outbreak. Thedisturbance caused by ongoing erosion reduces the scientific significance of these sites.

For this reason, we need to try to balance themanagement of specific sites and the managementof the surrounding landscape. Despite a longhistory of ploughing and grazing, large sections ofprivate land contain areas of high archaeologicalpotential. The erosion scalds act as windows andreveal that archaeological material exists as depositsat many points across the landscape, especiallynear water sources like major creeks. It isimportant to prevent the spread of salinity tocurrently unaffected areas of the landscape wherearchaeological material is relatively intact. Suchdeposits have a potentially higher scientific andcultural value than the assemblages of exposedartifacts. The fact that these deposits might neverbe subject to archaeological investigation does notdiminish their value. The long-term survival of suchdeposits is dependent upon the control of erosion.

The vast majority of land in the study region isprivate freehold. This automatically means thatachieving meaningful conservation of archae-ological values across the study area would belargely dependent on the actions of privatelandowners. For that reason, it is important thatcultural heritage managers work with landownersand natural resource managers to set practicaltargets for site recording and protection. Inaddition, it may be possible to take advantage of controls on vegetation clearance to protect areas of archaeological value on private lands.

On other tenures, different types of conservationoptions are available, especially in those areaswhere clearing and farming does not occur.A Geographic Information System analysis lookedat the correlation between areas of archaeologicalsensitivity, land tenure and remnant native vegetationin the Wellington study area. The analysis showedthat together, council-managed land and Crownlands make up less than 1% of the local governmentarea. Importantly however, 70% to 80% of this landcould contain open sites and buried archaeologicaldeposits. The archaeological sites on these tenuresare likely to be in better condition than in surroundingareas where more intensive land use has occurred.This demonstrates a need for local government tobe aware that even though their land holdings aresmall, they nevertheless have responsibility for alandscape value that is facing many threats orimpacts elsewhere within the region.

As part of the GIS analysis, we looked at thecorrelation between areas of remnant vegetationand archaeological sensitivity. The location ofremnant native vegetation was determined usingthe Eastern Bushlands Database. This datasetshows that nearly 80% of lands with a higharchaeological potential occur in areas mapped asnon-forest or degraded vegetation systems such asfarmlands. The biodiversity survey undertaken inthe Little River Catchment indicated that thevegetation communities which occur adjacent tostreams and rivers are reduced by 90% of theirpre-settlement coverage. Today, most vegetationlies on elevated and rocky terrain. This terrain maycontain site types such as stone quarries and stonearrangements, but has low potential to containburied stone assemblages. All elements of the GISanalysis point to the fact that the conservation of arepresentative sample of open sites is largelydependent on the co-operation of private landowners.


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The retention of native vegetation and control ofsoil erosion would help the survival of surfaceassemblages, archaeological deposits and otherforms of pre-contact sites. Salt scalds, gullies and

other signs of degradation currently pockmark theareas where open sites and archaeological depositsare most likely to occur. The overlay of salinityoutbreaks with areas of high archaeological


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Potential impacts of salinity on key pre-contact site types in Central Western NSW

Site type Salinity impact Considerations

Open artefact scatter/ – Erosion of soil profile and potential – Depending on scale of impact, some spatialcamp site lagging of artefacts on B-horizon. integrity may be retained on lag surfaces:

– Mixing of archaeological material from eg knapping floors may be identifiable.different time periods and events. – Dateable hearth material may be retained.

– Vertical and horizontal artefact – Data may still be obtained from large sitesdisplacement and damage to spatial that are regionally useful and indicative ofintegrity both within soil profile and settlement strategies and stone artefact industries.on lag deposits. – Areas of archaeological potential may be

– Exposure and erosion/destruction of retained in deposits on the edges of affectedhearth material. areas such as scalds.

– High cultural value may be ascribed to some sites.

Scarred trees & – Tree death may be caused/accelerated – Dead trees can still be recorded and increasedcarved trees by waterlogging, scalding and data about distribution may provide insights

associated erosion. to settlement strategies.– Tree stability may be undermined by – High cultural value may be ascribed to some

soil erosion causing tree fall. scarred trees.– Negative effects on tree health may – All carved trees have a high cultural and

make them more susceptible to insect scientific value.attack, stock damage and fire damage.

Rock engravings & – Associated erosion may undermine – Affected sites can still be recorded and axe grinding grooves stability of engravings on rock managed and retain a high scientific and

platforms and also increase the cultural value.deposition of sediment on art surfaces,which promotes chemical weathering.

Rock art – Salt absorbed into shelter surfaces or – Affected sites can still be recorded andboulders can damage or destroy retain a high scientific and cultural value.engraved, drawn and painted motifs. – Strategies for combatting salt problems at art

sites can be employed and lead tolong-term protection.

Burials – Erosion leading to exposure, – Ancestral remains have a high cultural valuebone fragmentation, loss of grave and need to be treated with respect.goods and site destruction. – Where exposed, burials should be managed

– High salt loads break down bone either through stabilisation or reburial.material in the soil as salt crystalsform between the layers in bonestructure. As the crystals form, theycan expand and separate these layers.

Story places & – Salinity can severely damage – Story and ceremonial places have a high ceremonial sites associated archaeological sites cultural value and need to be treated with

such as scarred and carved trees as respect and actively protected.described above.

– Salinity can damage associatedvegetation, landforms, water bodiesor streams that can embody thephysical fabric of these places.

– Associated biodiversity, includingbush foods, medicines and totemscan be affected/killed.

potential demonstrates this. In effect, we arelooking at a landscape value that currently existsin patches, but would continue to degrade ifsalinity worsens.

To conclude, other Aboriginal sites, such as scarredand carved trees, burials, sub-surface archae-ological deposits and art sites need to be factoredinto our understanding of the potential impacts ofsalinity on a landscape scale. The table on page 65contains a summary of these site types and thepotential impacts of salinity. Importantly, any manage-ment action must recognise that the remediation ofsalinity outbreaks, through revegetation and otheractions, could help preserve large areas of archae-ological value.

Chapter 4 looks in detail at how we can approachthe effective management of salinity so that culturalvalues and places are considered. It seeks to takea pragmatic approach that weighs up the severityof current impacts with future impacts, andrecommends that we adopt strategic managementof salinity and cultural heritage on a landscape scale.

Conclusion

Our approach to land management should

be guided not just by economics or science,

but by an awareness of the complex social

values which shape people’s attachment to

place, and their approach to land-use.

The Wellington case-study has formed animportant part of the project. It has allowed usto pursue collaborative research to explore thenature and scale of a range of cultural heritagevalues in a landscape experiencing significantsalinity impacts and threats.

Some of the key outcomes of this componentinclude:

1 the collection of cultural heritageinformation relating to Aboriginal post-contact places, the lifestyle of Aboriginalpeople in the area in the post-war period,the use of wild resources and communityattitudes about environmental change

2 an evaluation of archaeological issues

associated with the formation andremediation of salt scalds; and

3 an appreciation of the relationship betweenenvironmental health and cultural values.

Perhaps one of the strongest messages to comeout of the study is that landscapes, and the socialgroups occupying them, are constantly changing.Underlying such change is evidence of continuationin people’s sense of attachment to place and theways in which they seek to maintain a sense ofcommunity and individual identity.

We need to be aware that just as change hasoccurred in the past, it will continue. Local land-scapes may degrade further or improve, people’sneeds and aspirations may evolve in new ways,and planning systems may undergo significantalteration. We cannot be sure of the needs offuture generations but must try to ensure that theconcept of inter-generational equity plays a role in shaping our thinking. Many of the Wiradjuriparticipants in the study emphasised this point.They talked about the need to ensure that youngpeople today, and future generations of Aboriginalpeople, are able to nurture and enjoy a culturaldimension to their life. While much of theirperspective about culture and the land is shapedby what they have experienced in the past,Aboriginal people, perhaps more than many, havea strong appreciation of the concept of changewhich stops them from being complacent. Theyhave seen how the opportunity to interact with theland and rivers, or express cultural identity, hasbeen restricted over time by government policy,social injustice, economic change and environ-mental degradation. Their argument for a long-termperspective on land management, which reflectsfuture social needs, should not be ignored.

There is a parallel here with the words of manyecologists and environmental activists, perhaps bestexpressed in the call of the Wentworth Group’s needfor vision and a move away from short-term gain.Some ecologists acknowledge the need to explorestrategies for changing dominant social attitudes andpractices. One approach that is being explored isthe idea of 'ecological citizenship'.143 What thisillustrates is the inherent link between social andenvironmental planning. Our approach to landmanagement should be shaped not just byeconomics or science, but by an awareness ofthe complex social values which shape people’sattachment to place, and their approach to land-use.


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Environmental problems like salinity

can be managed to achieve a range

of cultural heritage benefits.

The purpose of this chapter is to

explore this idea. While some of the

discussion focuses on salinity and

its impacts, this chapter looks more

broadly at how to integrate Aboriginal

cultural values into the framework of

natural resource management in NSW.

Introduction:balancing site-specific &catchment-scale planningThe previous chapters provide us with an opportunityto carefully scrutinise aspects of current approachesto land and heritage management in NSW. We can use the issue of salinity as a foundation forconsidering how the management of natural andcultural heritage can be integrated at both localand catchment scales. In this chapter we considertwo key issues:

1 How to correlate natural and cultural heritagemanagement and measure outcomes againstmanagement goals; and

2 How to collect cultural heritage informationin a systematic and comprehensive way sothat decisions can be based on a certainlevel of understanding of heritage valuesand the types of social impacts stemmingfrom environmental degradation.

As an example, we can assess the heritage impli-cations of salinity remediation such as engineeringsolutions, alteration of cropping and irrigationpractices and revegetation. We also need to lookmore broadly at how strategic planning on a catch-ment scale might recognise and consider Aboriginalvalues. Both levels of assessment are important.

The fundamental argument made here is thatcultural heritage management generally shouldproceed with:

1 a commitment to recognising and achievingapproaches to land management whichreflect the link between heritage values,people and the environment;

2 a commitment to balancing local site-based issues with a catchment-scale viewof conservation and planning priorities; and

3 an awareness of the data and informationneeds required to support the above.This implies a commitment to communityinvolvement and an assessment of a broadrange of heritage values.

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4 Looking ahead

Left: Corina and Crystal Cunningham helping to plantnative trees at their local park.

If these principles are adopted then a myriad ofenvironmental problems like salinity and the loss of biodiversity can be managed to achieve a rangeof cultural heritage outcomes.

There have been important developments in theframework of natural resource management inNSW that have implications for cultural heritageplanning. In recent years, Catchment Blueprints,Regional Vegetation Management Plans and Water Management Plans were prepared for mostparts of the state. These plans aimed to achievesustainable land-use, greater economic certaintyfor producers and communities, and the protectionof natural and cultural heritage. The quality andscope of these plans varied, as did their attentionto cultural heritage values and principles.Nevertheless, they reflected a new awareness ofthe need for strategic planning on a catchment or regional scale. Subsequent restructuring ofgovernment agencies has lead to a revision ofthese plans with a continued commitment tobroad-scale planning through the formation ofCatchment Management Authorities.

The ideas presented in this chapter have directrelevance to the future work of these authorities.

This chapter includes strategies to help managecultural heritage on a catchment scale, andidentifies the cultural benefits that may come fromnatural resource management. Importantly, culturalheritage managers need to be involved in naturalresource planning to ensure that actions to redressenvironmental problems like salinity considercultural values.

A strategic approach to cultural heritage manage-ment would better balance site-based andcatchment-scale issues. This is equivalent tobalancing the management of individual specieswith that of the wider ecosystem on which thosespecies rely. Using this argument at its most basiclevel, work done to restore or conserve an individualcultural site can be undone if attention is not alsogiven to landscape-scale threats that may affectboth the site itself, and its environmental and socialcontext. It is important too, because landscapes intheir entirety can be culturally meaningful. In thelong-term this approach may benefit heritage wellbeyond those associated with localised actions likefencing an archaeological site. For example, themanagement of remnant vegetation and enforce-ment of clearing regulations may protect large andsignificant portions of the archaeological record,promote river health, help limit the spread ofsalinity, and help protect culturally valued speciesof flora and fauna. Aboriginal communities wouldvalue all of these outcomes. It also allows us toconsider a holistic concept of heritage. As theWellington case-study revealed, Aboriginal people’slifestyle, culture and well-being are tied not only toindividual places and sites, but also to the healthand management of landscape features like riversand remnant vegetation.

These arguments can be illustrated by consideringpeople’s concerns in Wellington about their abilityto fish at a favourite spot on the Macquarie River.At the level of individual fishing locations or sites,we may identify problems like bank erosion, lack of habitat for native fish, local paucity of native fishspecies, localised pollution sources or issues ofaccess. It may be possible to address some ofthese problems at the site-based level.

At a landscape scale we may identify broaderproblems with the health of the river system whichmay affect people’s ability to fish and actuallyundermine any work to improve individual fishingareas. Issues such as environmental flows, riverregulation, salinity and turbidity may all be factorsthat need to be considered. By actively assessing


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Above: “New tree, can you help mend this salty land?”

their effects on social and cultural values, we canidentify potential social impacts that can then befactored into decision-making about river manage-ment. This prompts decision-makers to considerdeveloping social indicators of river health, whichhave catchment-scale application. Such an approachacknowledges that cultural values associated with a landscape are as much affected by the dynamicprocesses of environmental degradation as thosefeatures that we class as being natural.

Linking cultural heritage manage-ment to catchment planningSalinity is a process of environmental

degradation that needs to be tackled at

both local and landscape levels.

Problems like salinity represent a part of a complexsystem of landscape change. Clearing of vegetationcan accelerate salinity problems that manifest atscales much larger than an individual property. Saltloads in rivers and streams can affect wholecatchments. Such chains of cause and effect requireus to understand the link between land-use,environmental degradation and conservation at a scale that matches landscape processes.

Over the last decade, the concept of “landscape”has become increasingly important within the field of natural resource management. Systems theory,which acknowledges the complex structure ofenvironments and connections between natural andhuman systems, has received growing support. Asnoted in the first chapter, concepts like “ecosystemmanagement” and “adaptive management” havecome to the fore over this time and have influencedthe commitment of the NSW Government to cross-tenure planning at scales that reflect ecosystemprocesses. Largely, these developments reflect thematuration of the concept of total catchmentmanagement that was enshrined in legislation by the Catchment Management Act 1989 (NSW). The development of Natural Resource ManagementPlans, such as Catchment Blueprints, and ongoing

discussion about “integrated environmental manage-ment”, represent attempts to give this practical effect.

One of the objectives of the Aboriginal Heritageand Salinity Project has been to examine how tomanage cultural heritage on a catchment scale.Part of this involved looking at the Natural ResourceManagement Plans which attempted to link culturalheritage management to landscape planning.

Some of the plans simply recommended improvingcommunication between natural resource managersand the Aboriginal community. They suggested thedevelopment of protocols to guide consultation andcollaboration. A common recommendation was toestablish regional Indigenous committees to helpnatural resource decision-making. Others took the next logical step and recommended directcommunity involvement in environmental programs.For example, some of the plans list Aboriginalcommunity organisations as supporting bodies innatural resource management programs. Theseprograms include:

– revegetation and rehabilitation of riverinecorridors, wetlands, beaches, coalmines and saline areas

– management of outflows from dams– management of regulators on rivers– monitoring of storm water quality; and– development of management plans for

endangered species, fire and pests.

Importantly, many of the plans recognise thatsuccessful integration of cultural heritagemanagement with natural resource management isdependent on two factors. Firstly, training andresourcing interested members of local Aboriginalcommunities. Secondly, raising awareness andunderstanding within the broader community aboutAboriginal cultural heritage.

The remaining sections of this chapter build onsome of the actions suggested in these NaturalResource Management Plans. We suggest a seriesof strategies which could be adapted to fitapproaches to catchment management. In part,this has been necessary as the challenge tointegrate natural and cultural heritage in thiscontext is still in its infancy.

L O O K I N G A H E A D

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Scenario 1: Retention of native vegetation

A vegetation plan may identify a significant standof bushland on a private property. The retention ofthis vegetation is recommended as it containsthreatened species and may help prevent furthererosion of an adjacent watercourse. This bushlandalso contains a number of species, such asquandong, geebung and emu bush, which arevalued by local Aboriginal elders as sources of fruitand medicine. The elders find it very difficult tocollect a variety of plants, such as these, elsewherein the local area.

> The retention of this vegetation would have adirect cultural benefit if local Aboriginal peoplewere allowed onto this area to collect wild fruitand materials. This might be achieved throughthe establishment of a land-use agreementbetween the property owner and some of theAboriginal community members.

> Retention of this vegetation would have anindirect cultural benefit for its contribution, at ageneral level, to preventing further decline inthe health of “country”.

Scenario 2: Management of a salinity outbreak

A private property owner identifies an area of soilerosion (scalds and gullies) associated with a salinityoutbreak adjacent to a watercourse. Aboriginal stoneartefacts are found on the surface of the scalds.Salinity control measures are recommended tomanage the problem. These works involve replantingsalt-tolerant pasture grasses and native trees within,and adjacent to, the erosion scalds.

> Management of the salinity outbreak wouldhave a direct cultural benefit as it preventsfurther erosion and helps retain theundisturbed sections of the Aboriginal site.This benefit could be enhanced further iflocal Aboriginal people could visit the area foreducational purposes.

> As with Scenario 1, the management of thesalinity outbreak would have an indirectcultural benefit due to its contribution to thehealth of “country”. Outcomes might include areduction of salt levels in the adjacentwatercourse, halting the dieback of eucalyptsgrowing nearby, and an increase in habitat fornative fauna.

Above: A typical stand of trees that might be found on farmsthroughout the Central West of NSW.

Above: A small salt scald in a trial rehabilitation area nearWellington, NSW. The area is adjacent to eroded groundrevealing stone artefacts which were recorded during thisproject.

Land management scenarios


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Cultural heritage benefits fromnatural resource management

If we acknowledge that rivers, vegetation

and fauna have cultural values, it follows

that an improvement in their condition

is a positive cultural outcome.

There can be both direct and indirect culturalbenefits from the management of environmentalproblems. This approach recognises that whilecultural values need specific attention, anyimprovements to the health of land and watermay enhance cultural heritage. We present twoscenarios to illustrate this idea (left page).

The scenarios illustrated on page 72 demonstratethat the conservation of native vegetation andrehabilitation of landscapes can result in theprotection of cultural heritage values. For example,the archaeological mapping exercise conducted forthe Wellington case-study shows that riparian zoneshave medium or high archaeological sensitivity. Theprotection of some of these areas when conservingnative vegetation or managing salinity will bothdirectly and indirectly benefit cultural heritage. If we do not acknowledge these associations thennatural resource management may not generateany cultural benefits. For example, retainedvegetation may not be located in areas accessible toAboriginal people. Alternatively, conservation zonesmay not take in areas of high archaeological value.

The next section defines these benefits in terms ofcultural heritage aims and links them to catchmenttargets (page 74). Following this is a discussionabout how to gather information about culturalheritage to support an integrated approach toplanning.

Setting culturalheritage indicators

We need to develop a framework for the

types of local and catchment-scale cultural

heritage benefits that might be achieved

through land-use planning.

General environmental targets can be read ashaving direct relevance to cultural values. As alreadydiscussed, if a river is in good condition, then it mightbe assumed that this translates into various culturaloutcomes such as the capacity for people to fish,collect riparian food and medicine plants and interactsocially in important ways. It is clear that without ahealthy river system, any of these social and culturalvalues would be jeopardised.

However, we should be careful that broad-scalefigures and targets about catchment health are not used as de facto cultural heritage outcomes.Not only would this represent an over-simplification,but it would also potentially “assimilate” culturalheritage into a “natural” heritage planning processthat fails to adequately acknowledge social issuesand values. To overcome this, we need to developa framework for the types of local and catchment-scale cultural heritage benefits that might be gainedthrough land use planning. One way to do this is toset specific cultural heritage indicators. These mightbe to ensure that:

– Aboriginal people have access to valued plantspecies; and/or

– areas of archaeological importance areretained.

A number of cultural heritage indicators andcorresponding catchment targets are listed in thenext table. Following this is a discussion of thesteps to achieve these indicators and targets.

Aboriginal values Local cultural heritage indicators Catchment targets

Fishing > – Fishing places kept viable by – Riverine salinity targetscontrolling bank erosion, providing achieved, river use isshade trees, preventing localised sustainable, pollution sourcespollution and controlling over- managed, and remnantfishing. native vegetation kept.

– Environmental impact assessment – Native fish populations and development consent considers monitored and pest speciesfishing as a value and the places controlled.where it occurs as part of acommunity’s fabric and heritage.

Hunting >

– Hunting locations made accessible. – Habitat maintained or– No take of threatened species. restored at levels which– Levels of take are sustainable. support continued or

renewed ecosystem health.

Food or medicine plant use > – Valued native species not affected – Native vegetation managedor threatened by factors such as to reduce salinity, increasesalinity, road widening or hazard biodiversity and ensurereduction. species survival.

– Access to food or medicine plants – New areas for accessis increased. negotiated.

– Levels of take are sustainable. – Revegetation programs blend– Revegetation and control of culturally valued species into

exotic species involves Aboriginal plantings.community members.

Archaeological sites & traditional >– Significant sites and viable areas – Remnant vegetationstory places (pre- or post-contact)

of archaeological potential retained managed.through the retention of riparian – The spread of soil erosionvegetation and localised and salinity addressed.management of salinity. Ongoing – Strategic management ofimpacts are controlled. Site-specific archaeologically sensitivemanagement actions like fencing, areas.carried out.

Community health & well-being > – Valued elements of lifestyle and cultural identity and practicemaintained (eg: hunting and gathering, caring for country, and access to valued sites).

– Inter-generation and family interaction (eg: passing on knowledge)that is dependent on environmental health is supported by landmanagement programs, strategic planning and EIA.

– Economic impacts to Aboriginal-owned lands and enterprisesgenerated by environmental problems are assessed and managed.

Taking action The sections below set out approaches

that can be used to ensure that adequate

information about cultural heritage is

available to develop integrated landscape

planning. By collecting appropriate data

we can measure the effectiveness of land

management decision-making and chart

social impacts and benefits.

One of the stated objectives of the Aboriginal Heritageand Salinity Project was to give Aboriginal people andothers an indication of how heritage assessmentscould be carried out to achieve integrated planningoutcomes.156 By doing so, the project fleshes outthe potential direction of those studies identified asactions within Natural Resource Management Plans.

Archaeological, environmental and social issuesare considered separately in the following sections.Each section also indicates how effective manage-ment strategies might be implemented to ensure thata range of values and heritage places is activelyconsidered. Obviously the scope of this discussionsuggests that heritage assessment must extendbeyond consideration of archaeological issues or themanagement of traditional sites. It is geared towardrecognition of dynamic communities, which seeculture and heritage as spanning the past, presentand future, as well as shaping their identity andsocial interactions.

Achieving this would require a commitment to multi-disciplinary research and high levels of communityinvolvement.157 A fundamental requirement wouldbe that specialists from different backgrounds com-municate and actively explore how their data orknowledge can inform a more comprehensive pictureof the relationship between people, landscape andheritage values. Ideally this would span the naturaland social sciences, and also involve recognition of community-based knowledge.

There are two key issues that need to be kept in mind:

1 Research and planning should becollaborative, and respond to communityneeds and aspirations.

2 The question of scale is important. Thelogistics, resourcing and effort that is requiredto complete research across a whole catch-ment is significant. Focused research,centred on regional towns or acceptedcultural boundaries, may be more feasible.This is especially the case when we considerthe degree of consultation and communityinvolvement that is required to achieve theoutcomes discussed below.

The Wellington case-study is an example of such anapproach. The study was focused on a single townand two associated settlements (Nanima andWellington Common). It should be noted, however,that the archaeological component spanned a wholelocal government area, as this scale is suited todeveloping realistic archaeological modelling. Theother values are more easily focused on a definablecommunity associated with specific towns. This alsoallows direct consideration of local issues and places,which might otherwise be lost within a much broaderstudy. A range of tools like community forums ormeetings with separate Aboriginal organisations ineach town can be used to engender support andcommence community involvement.

Archaeological values

Balancing the management of salinity and

archaeological sites on a landscape scale

is potentially complex. Archaeology for

archaeology’s sake should not become

the norm, nor should archaeological value

be ignored.

The distribution of salinity impacts in the CentralWest indicates that the problem covers some areasof the landscape that have the highest potential tocontain pre-contact archaeological sites, especiallyopen sites. The same situation appears to beoccurring in other salinity-affected areas of the statesuch as the Hunter Valley and Western Sydney. Thelatter is demonstrated by the occasional referencein archaeological reports from these regions to theevidence of salinity-induced disturbance.158 It isthought that the impact of salinity has probably beenunder-represented in reports from these areas as it


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may well have been lumped within more generalisedcategories of disturbance such as soil erosion.

What this demonstrates however is that salinity hasalready played a major role in affecting archaeologicalsites in NSW. It will continue to do so unless it isactively managed and controlled. The distribution ofarchaeological effort in the face of such impact hasnot been even across salinity-affected regions. Whileareas such as the Central West have seen littleintensive archaeological research, both the Hunterand Western Sydney have millions of dollars worth of archaeological investigation. While none of this has specifically targeted salinity management, it hasnevertheless allowed the retrieval of significant amountsof data in these affected areas. This being the case,when we consider management options, we need tobe aware of regional variation in our knowledge base,and how this should help frame our research andconservation priorities.

The archaeological assessment, carried out as partof the Wellington case-study, reveals that it is possibleto obtain a limited amount of data through surfacerecording at open sites affected by salinity. Theresearch value of such sites relates directly to thelevel of disturbance wrought by erosion and otherfactors. Put simply, the greater the disturbance tothe site, the less the research value. Importantly,the results of the Wellington case-study indicate thatremediation of eroded salt scalds is unlikely to causefurther loss of archaeological value. Activities suchas ripping, sowing and planting associated with therevegetation of salt scalds are not going to resultin any greater movement of artefacts than causedpreviously by erosion, stock trampling and ploughing.Archaeological investigations elsewhere in the statesupport this argument. It is widely accepted thatexcavation of relatively undisturbed areas, adjacentto erosion scalds, will yield more useful information.

Achieving a balance between the management ofsalinity and pre-contact archaeological sites on alandscape scale is potentially complex.Theoretically,the requirements of the National Parks and WildlifeAct 1974, relating to the destruction or disturbanceof Aboriginal objects requires land managers toensure that their salinity management actions eitherdo not damage archaeological values, or at least aresanctioned under the permit system. If unplanned,this could waste significant time and resources, andfrustrate salinity management. This in turn maygenerate even greater archaeological impacts.

Importantly, the retention of Aboriginal culturalvalues on a catchment scale is not dependent on the

complete protection of all sites. For example, the lossof one of many disturbed artefact scatters does notdiminish the value of those that remain. Achievingsuch a balance requires the following steps:

1 a framework for assessing the significanceand distribution of pre-contact archae-ological sites across a region

2 a decision-making structure which issupported by an awareness of the conserv-ation status of different components of thearchaeological record

3 a commitment to certain cut-off pointswhere salinity management actions willeither trigger, or not require, an archae-ological investigation

4 a commitment to ensuring no impact fromsalination remediation at some sites of highcultural value (eg: burials and ceremonialsites) irrespective of their rarity or represen-tativeness in real terms; and

5 a commitment by land managers to flagginglarge-scale salinity management actionsinvolving significant ground disturbance (eg: engineering solutions) with the DECand the Aboriginal community for comment,within the context of an agreed framework.

Each of these steps are described below.

Mapping zones of archaeological sensitivity

A first step should be to develop maps of archae-ological sensitivity for salinity-affected catchments.The map developed as part of the Wellington case-study provides a suitable example. Such a mapallows land managers and the Aboriginal communityto explore how areas which may contain open sitesand deposits relate to tenure, salinity outbreaksand other variables. Importantly, such a map islimited to presenting an overview of potentiallysensitive areas. In reality, open sites can extend toencompass whole landforms and do not necessarilyhave edges (even fuzzy ones) like a stand ofremnant vegetation. However, such a map isnecessary to promote a landscape or catchmentapproach to assessing management options, rather than a focus on individual sites.

Integrated planning outcomes

A second step involves looking at the potentialof land management strategies to support theconservation of archaeological sites. Such analysiscould indicate whether areas of remnant vegetationin a catchment or sub-catchment intersect with


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areas of archaeological value, thereby encouragingthe retention of this vegetation. An analysis of tenurecould indicate that areas managed by governmentsuch as road reserves, Crown lands and parksincorporate areas of sensitivity at a scale that allowsthe management of a representative sample ofvalued landscapes. In this way, managers and thecommunity can visualise the impact of salinity onthe archaeological record and identify areas whereactive management may need to occur, such as on private lands.

Targets for archaeological recording

A third step would be for government and theAboriginal community to develop a target system,as part of the catchment management process, toguide the recording and assessment of Aboriginalsites. Such a system would help government andland managers to decide whether archaeologicalinvestigation should precede an activity such assalinity remediation.

Practical site recording targets could be set for sub-catchments in salinity-affected regions. The targetsshould take into account the level of archaeologicalwork previously undertaken in the sub-catchment.For example, in the Wellington district, where littleor no recording has taken place, a minimum targetshould be to record at least one open site in eachsub-catchment. The recording should be to a levelof detail that would contribute to an understandingof the content and distribution of open sites acrossa region.

The target system would not preclude other siterecording and excavation as part of environmentalimpact assessment and academic projects. Instead,it seeks to ensure that stakeholders collect a baselevel of information about open sites as part ofsalinity remediation.

Targets could also represent a commitment toconservation aims that stakeholders can reassessover time as new data is collected. As part of thisprocess, stakeholders might agree that they wouldconserve as many rare or significant sites in a regionas possible. An associated aim would be to protecta sample of sites from each of the environments ina catchment.

The targets should be set and pursued for eachsub-catchment. If this is done, remediation ofsalinity outbreaks, through revegetation, reseeding,ripping and fencing, could proceed. Detailed archae-ological assessment may not be required. The long-

term benefit of limiting the spread of salinityrepresents a conservation outcome that outweighsany minor impacts to disturbed sites. This ispredicated on the basis that remediation activities:

– occur in areas affected by erosion and avoiddisturbing intact soil profiles, especially in areasrated as having a high potential to contain opensites and archaeological deposits

– are conducted with an awareness of issuesthat may trigger a complete halt, such as theevidence of ancestral remains; and

– are preceded by a search of the NPWSAboriginal Heritage Information System.

Flagging large-scale salinity management actions

A level of assessment should be ensured prior toany engineering solutions such as contour bankingor the construction of salt-interception infrastructure.These actions can involve significant ground distur-bance and should be treated as a potential impactto significant sites like burials. This investigationmay require a site survey and subsequent manage-ment recommendations.

Equally, any stabilisation or remediation workconducted on river or stream banks should beconducted with an awareness of the potential toencounter burials in alluvial soils. Any large-scalework in such environments requires training thestaff conducting the work to recognise and acommitment to stop-work arrangements if remainsare suspected to be present

Wild resource use values

Consideration should be given to how

salinity remediation, and land-use planning

more generally, can help preserve or revive

the use of wild resources.

Actions that could help achieve this include:

– participatory planning with Aboriginalcommunities in towns in salinity-affectedareas, to discuss their concerns aboutaccess to wild resources, the managementof impacts to these resources, and theenvironmental restoration works that canpromote these values.

– in collaboration with the Aboriginalcommunity, attempt to use culturally valued

food and medicine plants in revegetationprograms, especially in areas where accessis possible (eg: Crown and public lands,travelling stock-routes, road reserves andAboriginal-owned lands)

– promote and resource Aboriginalcommunity involvement in landscaperestoration, salinity remediation andresearch (eg: training local Aboriginalpeople in revegetation, fencing and waterquality monitoring)

– establish a program to help Aboriginalfishers record information about the healthof native fish populations and habitat (eg: at favoured fishing locations)

– work with Aboriginal people when they set up bush tucker gardens and othercommunity assets to ensure that they are established and maintained with anawareness of salinity impacts and threats

– involve Aboriginal people in biodiversitysurvey and assessment programs,threatened species recovery planningand threat abatement planning; and

– involve Aboriginal people in local firemanagement planning on public lands.

Post-contact and historic placesThe Wellington case-study and other similar projectsin NSW have revealed the presence of a diverse setof post-contact and historic places that are associatedwith Aboriginal people. This type of research intoAboriginal heritage is relatively new. In the past,research has generally focused on pre-contactarchaeological sites. This means that any catch-ment will usually have limited information available,initially, about the number, location and condition of such places. The actions below are intended toshow the scope of Aboriginal post-contact heritagein a landscape. Any research program could beapproached using a thematic structure and anassociated archival research exercise.159

These suggested actions are seen as the corecomponents of any research or mapping exercisefocusing on broad-scale analysis of post-contactplaces in a catchment:

– participative planning with local Aboriginalcommunities in towns in salinity-affectedlandscapes to identify structures and placesassociated with Aboriginal history, which arevalued by community members

– participative planning and historicalresearch to identify non-structural post-contact values and places. This mightinclude historic camps.

– assessment of whether any of these placesare affected by salinity; and

– encouragement and resourcing of Aboriginalcommunity involvement in salinity remedi-ation and research (eg: in urban salinityaudits and monitoring).

Well-being, lifestyle and economic interestsThe final issue to be considered is whether environ-mental problems are affecting people’s way of life,well-being and sense of community. Very little directresearch has been conducted into this form ofsocial impact in NSW and, hence, there are fewcomparative studies available. This is complicatedby the fact that it involves dealing with intangiblevalues which are difficult or impossible to quantify.Nevertheless, asking questions about this issue can draw out important community views aboutenvironmental problems, as well as solutions oractions, which could generate direct social benefits.

Equally, some impacts may be easily identified. For example, people may say that lack of access to land for teaching purposes, or gathering wildfoods, prevents inter-generational contact and thepassage of cultural knowledge. Seeking areaswhere access can be achieved or restoring areas of public lands for this purpose might be directsolutions to such concerns.

As with the other values discussed, the question ofscale is an important one. What level of communityconsultation or participation is required to elicitinformation about these forms of social impact?How can the outcomes of any study be related tospecific places on the ground, rather than producinga general assessment of broad environmentalproblems?

Again, as noted in the introduction to this section,one option may be to take the approach used atWellington, where we focused on the Aboriginalpeople living in one town and two small associatedsettlements. Elsewhere in the Central West, a similar approach could be used for other townslike Dubbo, Peak Hill or Forbes using a realisticcatchment area around each town to encompass a meaningful cultural landscape.


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In conclusion, two key steps are necessary:

– participative planning with local Aboriginalcommunities in towns in salinity-affectedregions to identity how environmentalproblems are affecting their quality of life(eg: through reduced access to wildresources, decline in water quality, economicdamage to interests such as businesses)

– identification with the community of optionsor programs to redress these problems (eg: through property plans on Aboriginal-owned lands or help through training).

Final word: shared opportunitiesTackling the effects of salinity on Aboriginal culturalvalues and places must be approached in a holisticmanner, both within the context of broader environ-mental degradation, and across a range of valuesthat span the pre- and post-contact periods andcontemporary life.

While the sections above have discussed how toassess and manage specific forms of culturalheritage value or place, it is important to note thatany approach should look for intersections betweenthese values. As an example, these intersectionsmay be spatial. The areas defined as having higharchaeological value in a catchment may also befound to have high biodiversity value, a history ofwild resource use by local people, as well as thepresence of historic sites and places. In thissituation, the management of one area may allow usto achieve multiple and related heritage outcomes.

In conclusion, the sections above have attemptedto outline steps that would allow government, localcouncils, and Aboriginal communities to developcomprehensive heritage assessments, and to linkthese to the process of catchment planning. Where

possible, these studies should avoid focusing solelyon one issue, such as the management of pre-contact archaeological sites. Rather, they should aimto span a range of values and include communityviews in their design and implementation.

At the same time, improvement in the design andconduct of other planning processes such asenvironmental impact assessment and park manage-ment would also be required to ensure that NSWlandscapes are managed with appropriate attentionto cultural heritage. For example, environmentalimpact assessments still separate nature and cultureinto discrete compartments, and treat Aboriginalcultural heritage management largely as an archae-ological exercise. As noted, this issue has beendiscussed elsewhere and should also inform thedesign of strategic planning exercises like catch-ment planning. The cumulative benefit of improvingheritage management across the planning spectrumwould be potentially vast.

We conclude with a table setting out a recommendedapproach to assessing a range of cultural heritagevalues. This provides a context for designing andfunding future heritage assessments in salinityaffected regions in NSW.

Above: Detail from a drawing entered in the schools display atthe Reconciliation celebrations, Wellington, May 2002.


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Recording archaeological sites insalinity-affected catchmentsTargeted open-site recording should address questions about Aboriginal people’s pre-contact life.Research might focus on land-use strategies and the use of materials like stone. A standard researchdesign and recording process would ensure that collected data is comparable across a catchment.

A targeted site-recording program could assess sites in a range of environmental contexts, and notsimply those in areas affected by salinity. However, a focus on areas of high archaeological potentialis a priority, as many of these areas are currently facing a salinity threat. A minimum target could be to record, in detail, at least one open site in each affected sub-catchment.

Open sites containing large numbers of stone artefacts have the best research potential. In somecatchments, such as the Central West, there is little information about stone artefact assemblages. The analysis of open sites containing small numbers of artefacts would not advance this.

Finally, researchers could set a long-term aim to excavate deposits in salinity-threatened areas.Excavation could yield more data than surface recording, and could counter the loss of deposits causedby salinity.


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Summary of management recommendations

Cultural heritage issue or value Actions

Pre-contact archaeology – Develop a map of archaeological sensitivity for landscape being managed.– Analyse broad conservation options and threats by assessing model against spatial data

such as tenure, areas of conservation value, land-use disturbance and environmentaldegradation (eg: salinity mapping).

– Undertake community planning to determine community priorities and concerns.

– Commit to a target system for site recording and active conservation on a catchment orsub-catchment basis.

– Seek to employ a range of strategic conservation planning options such as voluntaryconservation agreements and active integration of natural and cultural heritagemanagement (eg: vegetation management actively involves considering areas of highcultural value such as where sites are retained).

Post-contact and – Undertake archival research on Aboriginal history to establish historical context and tohistoric places extract place based information.

– Undertake oral history research and cultural mapping with local Aboriginal people.A thematic approach could be adopted and a range of mapping tools used as in English,2002a, and Goulding 2001 and 2002.

– Record a range of places and assess condition and threats.– Analyse relationship of places against spatial data such as tenure, development threats,

areas of conservation value and environmental problems (eg: urban salinity) to assessbroad conservation options and issues.

– Seek to employ a range of strategic conservation planning options (as above).

Wild resource use – Research the historic and contemporary nature, extent and location of wild resource useusing a range of tools such as oral history and cultural mapping.

– Identify community concerns and interests on this topic such as access, decline of keyspecies, key environmental threats and management options.

– Analyse all of the above against data such as tenure, environmental threats, areas ofconservation value etc.

– Undertake actions designed to ensure continuity of cultural practices such as replanting ofbush foods, retention of vegetation of high cultural value, and active integration of culturaland natural heritage considerations during land-use planning.

Environmental Values – Assess the nature of people’s perception of, and attachment to, country and how theylinked to Country express or activate this as individuals and groups (eg: identify key landscape features that

are valued as story places, places which people actively care for, and areas which combinea high nature conservation and social value).

– Develop conservation planning strategies to assess the relationship of valued areas orfeatures to tenure.

– Develop Aboriginal community involvement in natural resource management planning andaction (eg: in restoration and monitoring works and in the assessment of biodiversity values).

– Assist Aboriginal landowners to manage their lands in a sustainable manner and to repairenvironmental damage.

1 Bonyhady, T., 2000. The Colonial Earth: pg.216-217. 2 For examples of Earle’s depictions of Aboriginal people, see

the PICMAN catalogue online at the NSW State Library. 3 This project has been funded by the NSW Salinity Strategy,

which aims to develop a co-ordinated approach to tacklingsalinity problems in the state.

4 For example see Zeppel, M.B. et al, 2003. The potentialimpact of dryland salinity on the threatened fauna and floraof New South Wales. Ecological Management & Restoration4: pgs.53-59.

5 Central West Catchment Management Board, 2003;Central West Catchment Blueprint, pg.15.

6 In this report the term “integrated planning” is defined asan approach which considers natural and cultural heritagevalues equally and involves looking at how these valuesintersect and relate. For example, a “natural” heritage valuelike vegetation, can also have a cultural dimension. It maybe a source of bush foods.

7 The cultural significance of rivers and waterways is a themethat historian, Heather Goodall, has also identified as beingof great significance to the Yuwalaraay people of the blacksoil country in north-west NSW. See Goodall, H, 2002. TheRiver Runs Backwards. In Bonyhady, T., and Griffiths, T.,(eds) Words for Country: landscape and language inAustralia: pgs.39-40.

8 Oates, N., 1995. Putting Back the Bush: the role of trees in sustainable agriculture: pg.11.

9 Stirzaker, R., et al. 2001. A Revolution in Landuse: emergingland use systems for managing dryland salinity: pg.4.

10 In this context we understand “well-being” to refer to thesocial cohesion and structure of communities and families,their sense of identity and connection to place, theopportunity to partake in society and to obtain a goodstandard of living. For examples of the use of this term inrelation to Aboriginal people see Wiseman, V et al, 1999.Improving Aboriginal Health in Wellington, NSW: Ask localKoori people what can be done. Aboriginal and IslanderHealth Worker Journal 23(1): pgs.21-23, the NationalAboriginal Community Controlled Health Organisation(NACCHO) Manifesto on Aboriginal Wellbeing atwww.weftweb.net/nacho, and the Australian IndigenousHealthInfoNet website at www.healthinfonet.ecu.edu.au.

11 For an excellent discussion of the social, political andeconomic complexities of salinity management seeBeresford, Q. et al, 2001. The Salinity Crisis: landscapes,communities and politics.

12 The Wentworth Group, 2002. Blueprint for a LivingContinent: pg.4.

13 McKell, W.J., 1945. Soil Conservation. Journal of the SoilConservation Service of NSW 1(1): pgs.5-7.

14 In its broadest sense, “ecosystem management” is meantto recognise the link between the management of theenvironment and human value systems. For a good startingpoint on this subject see Burnside, D, and Rasmussen, A,1997. Ecosystem management: can it succeed? Rangelands19: pgs.20-23.

15 An example is the document released as part of the MurrayDarling Basin Initiative, titled, People as an Integral Part ofthe Initiative: a human dimension strategy, 1999.

16 Dale, A., Taylor, N., and Lane, M., (eds) 2001. SocialAssessment in Natural Resource Management Institutions.

17 At the time of writing, large-scale restructuring of the publicsector agencies associated with land use planning hadbeen announced. It is unclear whether this will affectNatural Resource Management Plans.

18 These plans vary greatly in their treatment of cultural heritageissues and values, as is discussed later in this report.

19 Curtis, A. et al, 2002. Using spatial data to explorelandowner awareness and concern about dryland salinity.Australian Geographer 33(2): pgs.159-171.

20 See for example Koen, K., 2000. The Impact of urban salinityon the historic heritage of Wagga Wagga, and Spennemann,D, 2001. The creeping disaster: dryland and urban salinityand its impact on heritage. CRM 8: pgs.22-25.

21 Department of Land and Water Conservation, 2000. Takingon the Challenge: The NSW Salinity Strategy: pg.5.

22 At the time of writing, the restructure of both of theseagencies was being considered. The DLWC has beenrenamed the Department of Infrastructure, Planning andNatural Resources.

23 Central West Catchment Management Committee, 2000.Salinity Risk Assessment of the Central West Catchment,and pers. comm. Alan Nicholson, Salt Team Leader, DLWC(now the DIPNR).

24 Stirzaker, R., et al. 2001. A Revolution in Landuse: pg.4.and the Department of Land and Water Conservation, 2000.Taking on the Challenge: The NSW Salinity Strategy: pg.5.

25 Central West Catchment Management Committee, 2000.Salinity Risk Assessment of the Central West Catchment.

26 For an excellent discussion on the complexity of theregulatory and land use planning system in NSW seeFarrier, D, 2002. Fragmented law in fragmentedlandscapes: the slow evolution of integrated naturalresource management legislation in NSW. Environmentaland Planning Law Journal 19(2): pgs.89-108.

27 This definition of “cultural heritage” is quoted in the CentralWest Catchment Blueprint. It derives from the CulturalHeritage Resource Centre, University of Canberra and datesto November 1997.

28 English, A.J., 2002a. The Sea and the Rock Gives Us aFeed: mapping and managing Gumbaingirr wild resourceuse places. Byrne, D, 2002. An archaeology of attachment:cultural heritage and the post-contact. In Harrison, R., andWilliamson, C., (eds), pgs.135-145. Harrison, R., 2002.Shared histories and the archaeology of the pastoralindustry in Australia. In Harrison, R., and Williamson, C.(eds): pgs.37-53.

29 NPWS, 1999. Corporate Plan 1999-2002. 30 Standing Committee on Conservation, 2001. Implications of

Salinity for Biodiversity and Conservation Management. 31 Soil Conservation Service, 1986. Glossary of Terms Used in

Soil Conservation: pg.106.

81

Notes

32 Stirzaker, R., et al. 2001. A Revolution in Landuse: pg.4.and Central West Catchment Management Committee,2000. Salinity Risk Assessment of the Central WestCatchment: pg.18.

33 Wagner, R., 1958. Salt damage on soils of the SouthernTablelands. Journal of the Soil Conservation Service of NSW13: pgs.33-39.

34 Beresford, Q. et al. 2001. The Salinity Crisis: pg.4. 35 Television programs like Landline (ABC) often feature stories

about salinity (eg: August 31st, 2002). At the end of 2002 adocumentary series devoted to salinity was screened on theABC called “Silent Flood”.

36 The Prime Minister, John Howard, and some stategovernments, have identified salinity as the chiefenvironmental management priority in Australia.See, The Australian, 3 Aug. 20: pg.5.

37 Australian Natural Resources Atlas website:www.audit.ea.gov.au.

38 Australian Bureau of Statistics, 2002. Salinity on AustralianFarms Survey: www.abs.gov.au/Ausstats/abs@nsf.

39 The idea of identifying priority areas for salinitymanagement is one of the “salinity guiding principles”in the Central West Catchment Blueprint, 2003: pg.15.

40 Central West Catchment Management Committee, 2000.Salinity Risk Assessment of the Central West Catchment: pg.iv.

41 Department of Conservation & Land Management, n.d.Dryland Salinity: pg.4.

42 Australian Natural Resources Atlas website:www.audit.ea.gov.au.

43 Department of Land and Water Conservation, 1995.Urban Salinity: causes, effects, costs and symptoms.

44 Powell, J., 1996. Managing dryland salinity in the Murray-Darling Basin. ATSE Focus 91.

45 Wagga Wagga City Council, 2001. Wagga Wagga UrbanSalinity Tour (pamphlet).

46 Ecological Australia, 2002. Salinity Data Audit for theAboriginal Heritage and Salinity Project.

47 Please, P. et al, 2002. Dryland Salinity Mapping in Centraland South West NSW: collation and documentation ofinformation.

48 Ibid. pg.4.49 Pers. comm. Alan Nicholson, DLWC Wellington.50 Department of Land and Water Conservation, 2000. Taking

on the Challenge: The NSW Salinity Strategy: pg.18.51 Ibid. pg.5.52 Ibid. pg.18.53 Stirzaker, R., Vertessy, R., and Sarre, R., (eds) 2002. Trees

Water and Salt: an Australian guide to using trees forhealthy catchments and productive farms.

54 Munday, B., 2002. Engineering options for dryland salinitymanagement: where and when to dig or pump. AustralianLandcare, March issue : pgs. 32-33.

55 Stephens, S. Landholders views on conservation covenants.Australian Landcare, June 2002: pgs. 6-7.

56 Lockwood, M. et al, 2002. Potential of RevegetationIncentives to meet Biodiversity and salinity objectives: a study from the Goulburn Broken Catchment. AustralianJournal of Environmental Management 9: pgs. 79-88.

57 Byrne, D., et al, 2001. Social Significance: a discussionpaper: pg.4

58 For example, see Goulding, M., 2001. Cultural Places,Contested Spaces. A study of Aboriginal people’s historicalattachments to landscape.

59 Spennemann, D, 2001. The creeping disaster dryland andurban salinity and its impact on heritage. CRM 8: pgs.22-25.

60 Littleboy, M. et al, 2001. Dryland Salinity Extent andImpacts: New South Wales: pg.3.

61 Urban salinity: a threat to cultural heritage places. Drylandsalinity online information sheet:www.ndsp.gov.au/15_publications.

62 English, A.J., 2002a. The Sea and the Rock Gives Usa Feed: pg.ix.

63 English, A.J., and Brown, C., 2000. It’s a Part of Us:Aboriginal people’s perspectives on the cultural values ofbiodiversity in NSW. English, A.J., 2002a. The Sea and theRock Gives Us a Feed.

64 NSW Fisheries, 2002. Indigenous Fisheries Strategy.NSW Native Vegetation Advisory Council, 2001. AboriginalCultural Values of the Native Vegetation of NSW. GreeningAustralia, 1996. Managing Australia’s Vegetation:a community perspective.

65 English, A. J., 2002a. The Sea and the Rock Gives Us aFeed.

66 For example, see Zeppel, M.B. et al., 2003. The potentialimpact of dryland salinity on the threatened fauna and floraof New South Wales. Ecological Management & Restoration4: pgs.53-59.

67 Rose, D. et al, 2003. Indigenous Kinship with the NaturalWorld in NSW: pg.3.

68 Ibid. 69 Rose, D., 1996. Nourishing Terrains: Australian Aboriginal

views of landscape: pg.28. 70 Anon, Measuring salinity impact on aquatic biodiversity.

Australian Landcare, September 2001: pg.60.71 Rose, D., 1996. Nourishing Terrains: pgs.7-8.72 Indigenous Land Corporation, 1996. Regional Indigenous

Land Strategy 1996-2001. 73 Wiseman, V., et al, 1999. Improving Aboriginal health in

Wellington, NSW. Aboriginal and Islander Health Journal23(1): pg.23.

74 Indigenous Health, 2002. The Australian Indigenous HealthInfoNet website at www.healthinfonet.ecu.edu.au.

75 For a definition of “well-being”, see note 10. 76 Humphery, K., 1999. Talking Diabetes. Aboriginal and

Islander Health Worker Journal 23(1): pgs.2-4.77 Rodgers, K. et al, 1998. Environmental factors influencing

Aboriginal nutrition in Western NSW. Health Promotion ofAustralia Journal 8(1): pgs.18-23.

78 Callaghan, G., and Moseley, L., 2000. Healthy WatersHealthy People: a support package for Aboriginalrepresentatives on water management committees.

79 Senate Rural and Regional Affairs and TransportCommittee, 1997. Interim report on Commercialisation ofAustralian Wildlife.

80 Popp, T. et al, 1995. Settlements of Green: A guide to treeplanting on Aboriginal lands in NSW.

81 Rose, B.D., 1993. Reflections on ecologies for the twenty-first century. In Williams, N., and Baines, G., (eds)Traditional Ecological Knowledge: wisdom for sustainabledevelopment: pgs.115-118.

82 For example, soil stabilization in riparian environments maydamage ancestral remains (burials).

83 Salinity guiding principles in the Central West CatchmentBlueprint, 2003: pg.15.

84 English, A.J., 2002b. More than archaeology: developingcomprehensive approaches to Aboriginal heritagemanagement in NSW. Australian Journal of EnvironmentalManagement 9(4): pgs.218-227.

85 Macdonald, G., 1998. Master narratives and thedispossession of the Wiradjuri. Aboriginal History 22:pg.164.

86 ERM Australia, 2002. Archaeological Assessment of TwoArtefact Scatters, Central West NSW for the AboriginalHeritage and Salinity Project.


82

87 Digital salinity outbreak data was provided by DIPNR toassist with this project.

88 Seddon, J. et al, 2002. Little River Catchment BiodiversityAssessment. A report for the TARGET project.

89 Ibid: pg.50, and Breckwoldt, R., 1990. Living Corridors.90 Howling, G.M., 1997. Remnant Vegetation in the Central

West Catchment: issues and options for the future: pg.115.91 The photos can be viewed online at the NSW State Library

web site (via the PICMAN photographic database).Photographs are also provided in Logan, J.M., 1951. Thevalue of soil conservation measures at Wellington. Journal ofthe Soil Conservation Service of NSW 7: pgs.43-49. McKell,W.J., 1945. Soil Conservation. Journal of the Soil ConservationService of NSW 1(1): pgs.5-7. Roberts, D.J., 1953. Farmingtechniques in the Wellington district. Journal of the SoilConservation Service of NSW 9: pgs.142-146

92 Spence, W.S., 1962. Farm planning for soil conservation inthe Wellington District. Journal of the Soil ConservationService of NSW 18: pgs.113-117.

93 Howling, G. M., 1997. Remnant Vegetation in the CentralWest Catchment: pg.55.

94 An example of this argument is presented by Carl Binning,CEO Greening Australia, in Cash rewards for best practiceenvironmental farmers. The Greening Australian 1(1): pg.4.

95 Australian Bureau of Statistics 2001 Census Data.Community Profile Series.

96 Roberts, D.A., 2000. Historical Background of theWellington Valley Settlement with Notes on Construction andHabitation of Buildings.

97 Read, P., in Kabaila, P, 1995. Wiradjuri Places: pg.13.98 Woolmington, J., Humble Artisans and Untutored Savages’

referenced in Le Maistre, B, 1993. Aboriginal People atWellington Holding onto Land and Heritage: pg.4.

99 Kabaila, P., 1995. Wiradjuri Places. 100 Ibid.101 This research has been conducted as part of native title

investigations and is not freely available. 102 Le Maistre, B., 1993. Aboriginal People at Wellington

Holding onto Land and Heritage: pg.8.103 Kabaila, P., 1995. Wiradjuri Places: pg.19.104 Read, P., 1999. A Rape of the Soul So Profound: the return

of the Stolen Generations: pgs.18-20. 105 Le Maistre, B., 1993. Aboriginal People at Wellington

Holding onto Land and Heritage: pg.9.106 Kabaila, P., 1995. Wiradjuri Places: pgs.19-20.107 Goodall, H., 1996. Invasion to Embassy: land in Aboriginal

politics in New South Wales: pg.86.108 Ibid. pg.96.109 Joyce Williams quoted in Kabaila, P., 1993. Wiradjuri

Places: pg.31.110 Goodall, H., 1996. Invasion to Embassy: pg.101.111 Ibid. pg.92.112 Markus, A., 1994: Australian Race Relations 1788-1993:

pg.119.113 Goodall, H., 1996. Invasion to Embassy: pg.92.114 McGuigan, 1983. Aboriginal Reserves in NSW: a Land

Rights research aid. 115 Goodall, H., 1996. Invasion to Embassy: pg.115-116.116 Kabaila, P., 1995. Wiradjuri Places: pg.22.117 Le Maistre, B., 1993. Aboriginal People at Wellington

Holding onto Land and Heritage: pg.9. 118 Historian, Mark McKenna describes this for Aboriginal

people on the South Coast of NSW in McKenna, M., 2002.Looking for Blackfellows Point: an Australian history ofplace: pg.166.

119 Hollinsworth, D., 1998. Race and Racism in Australia:pg.139.

120 Kabaila, P., 1995. Wiradjuri Places.121 Goodall, H., 1996. Invasion to Embassy: pg.279.122 See for example Mason v Tritton [1994] 34 NSWLR 572

and Yanner v Eaton [1999] HCA 53. Continued hunting andgathering does not necessarily mean that native title rightsand interests have survived. For a discussion of this pointsee especially The Members of the Yorta Yorta AboriginalCommunity v State of Victoria & Ors [1998] 1606 FCA.

123 English, A.J., 1997. Terrestrial hunting and gathering byAboriginal people in NSW: an assessment of law and policy.Environmental and Planning Law Journal 14(6): pgs.437-455.

124 Ibid. pg.454.125 English, A.J., 2002a. The Sea and the Rock Gives Us a Feed.126 These quotes are taken from an online version of Handt’s

journals at http://www.newcastle.edu.au/department/hi/carey.The collection is cited as Carey, H., and Roberts, D., 1995.The Wellington Valley Project. Letters and Journals relatingto the Church Missionary Society Mission to WellingtonValley, NSW, 1830-1845. A Critical Electronic Edition.

127 The same situation occurs on the north coast of NSW.However, it is important to realise that levels of wildresource use vary between individuals, many of whomregularly hunt, fish or collect plant resources.

128 As part of this project, funds have been provided to theWellington High School to establish a bush food garden.The Agriculture teacher indicates that 40% of the schoolpopulation is Aboriginal and the garden will provide a goodopportunity to learn about and maintain valued species.

129 Pearson, M., 1981. Seen through different eyes: changinglanduse and settlement patterns in the Upper MacquarieRiver valley, NSW from prehistoric times to 1860. English,A.J., and Gay, L., 1995. Archaeological Survey of WyangalaDam, Central West NSW. English, A.J. et al, 1997. CulturalHeritage Assessment of Goobang National Park, CentralWest NSW.

130 Pearson, M., 1981: pg.75.131 Ibid. pg.104.132 Ibid. pgs.91-101.133 ERM Australia, 2003. Archaeological Assessment of Two

Artefact Scatters, Central West NSW, and Stage TwoAssessment of an Artefact Scatter, “Easterfield” Property,Central West NSW.

134 See for example Odell, H. and Cowan, F., 1987. Estimatingtillage effects on artifact distributions. American Antiquity52(3): pgs.456-484. Dunnell, R.C., and Simek, I.F., 1995.Artefact size and plowzone processes. Journal of FieldArchaeology, 22: pgs.305-319.

135 Central West Catchment Management Committee, 2000.Salinity Risk Assessment of the Central West Catchment: pg.1.

136 Ibid. 137 Ibid. pg.10.138 Australian Bureau of Statistics, 2002. Salinity on Australian

Farms Survey: www.abs.gov.au/Ausstats/abs@nsf139 The Wentworth Group, 2002. Blueprint for a Living

Continent: pgs. 10-12.140 Knuckey’s Store has also been recently threatened with

demolition to make way for a car park for the WellingtonSoldiers Club. For a discussion see, Town contemplates carpark at 100-year-old corner. Sydney Morning HeraldOctober 29th 2002: pg.9.

141 See the web page: Potential Environmental Consequencesof Increasing Dryland Salinity on Streams and Wetlands inthe Murray Darling Basin NSW, at:dlwc.nsw.gov.au/care/salinity.

N O T E S

83

142 Report on the Boomanulla Conference for Country, 5–6 March 2002.

143 Mulligan, M., and Hill, S., 2001. Ecological Pioneers: asocial history of Australian ecological thought and action.

144 Associated legislation, such as the Native VegetationConservation Act 1997 (NSW) and the Water ManagementAct 2000 (NSW) have included direct attention to Aboriginalcommunity and broader social values. Most recently, theThreatened Species Conservation Act 1995 (NSW) hasbeen amended to require Aboriginal communityinvolvement in the development of Threatened SpeciesRecovery Plans. It can be argued that to a certain extent,these legislative developments have prompted renewedattention to social assessment issues in a way that EIA hasfailed to do over the last few decades. Having said this,government, landowners and communities have yet todevelop the capacity to undertake, or communicate about,effective social assessment practices.

145 Farrier, D., 2002. Fragmented law in fragmentedlandscapes: the slow evolution of integrated naturalresource management legislation in NSW. Environmentaland Planning Law Journal 19(2): pgs.89-108, and Oates,N., 1995. Putting Back the Bush: the role of trees insustainable agriculture.

146 Quote taken from the DLWC web page on Natural ResourceManagement Plans.www.dlwc.nsw.gov.au/care/nrmplans/index.html

147 At the time this report was being written, the CatchmentManagement Blueprints existed in draft form only. The finalversions of these documents have since been prepared.

148 To date, 21 vegetation regions have been defined across50% of NSW. See DLWC 2002 Regional VegetationManagement Planning in NSW: adding value to the naturalassets of NSW. Available on the dlwc website.

149 For example, the Central West Catchment covers 92,000 km2 and this takes in five vegetation regions,including the whole of two regions and parts of three others.

150 The Yallaroi and Walgett Plans each contain a list ofapproximately 50 plant species of cultural significance.Consent is required prior to their clearance, but note thatnone of these plants is rare or threatened and one is awoody weed.

151 Bartel, R.L., 2003. Compliance and complicity: anassessment of the success of land clearance legislation inNew South Wales. Environmental & Planning Law Journal,20(2): pgs.116-141.

152 This is discussed in the Moree RVMP, pg.22.153 This definition is provided in the 2001 Gwydir Catchment

Blueprint, Appendix 1.154 NSW Department of Land and Water Conservation, 2001.

Offsets, Salinity and Native Vegetation Discussion Paper.155 Central West Catchment Blueprint, 2002: pg.14. Similar

language is used in the Lachlan Catchment Blueprint,which states there should be “No loss of cultural heritagevalues across the catchment that relate to natural resourcemanagement.”

156 See the definition of integrated planning given in note 6.157 English, A. J., 2002a. The Sea and Rock Gives Us a Feed,

and English, A. J., 2002b. More than archaeology:developing comprehensive approaches to Aboriginalheritage management in NSW. Environmental and PlanningLaw Journal 9(4): pgs.218-227.

158 J.MacDonald CHM, 2002. Archaeological reassessment ofIndigenous cultural heritage values in Second Ponds Creek(Project Area 12586). AMBS, 2002. Salt Pan Creek (‘The Salt Pan’), Mt Thorley Mine Archaeological SalvageExcavations. These are held in the NPWS AboriginalHeritage Information System collection.

159 For an example, see the NPWS Coffs Harbour AboriginalHeritage study in Goulding, M., 2001. Cultural Places,Contested Spaces: a study of Aboriginal people’s historicalattachments to landscape.


84

Anon, 2001. Measuring salinity impact on aquaticbiodiversity. Australian Landcare September: pg.60.

Beresford, Q., Bekle, H., Phillips, H., and Mulock, J.,2001. The Salinity Crisis: landscapes, communities and politics.University of Western Australia Press.

Binning, C., n.d. Cash rewards for best practiceenvironmental farmers. The Greening Australian 1 (1): pg.4.

Bonyhady, T., 2000. The Colonial Earth. MelbourneUniversity Press.

Breckwoldt, R., 1990. Living Corridors. Greening Australia. Burnside, D., and Rasmussen, A., 1997. Ecosystem

management: can it succeed? Rangelands 19: pgs.20-23.Byrne, D. 2002 An archaeology of attachment: cultural

heritage and the post-contact. In Harrison, R., and Williamson,C., (eds). After Captain Cook: the archaeology of the recentIndigenous past in Australia. University of Sydney.

Byrne, D., Brayshaw, H., and Ireland, T., 2001.Social Significance: A Discussion Paper. Published by theNSW NPWS, Sydney.

Callaghan, G., and Moseley, L., 2000. Healthy WatersHealthy People: A support package for Aboriginal representativeson water management committees. Lower North Coast WaterManagement Committee.

Central West Catchment Management Board, 2003. CentralWest Catchment Blueprint. Published by the Department ofLand and Water Conservation, Sydney.

Central West Catchment Management Committee, 2000.Salinity Risk Assessment of the Central West Catchment.Central West CMC.

Curtis, A., Mackay, J., and McDonald, S., 2002. Usingspatial data to explore landowner awareness and concern aboutdryland salinity. Australian Geographer: 33(2): pgs.59-171.

Dale, A., Taylor, N., and Lane, M., (eds) 2001. SocialAssessment in Natural Resource Management Institutions.CSIRO Publishing, Canberra.

Department of Conservation & Land Management, n.d.Dryland Salinity. CaLM, Sydney.

Department of Land and Water Conservation, 1995. UrbanSalinity: causes, effects, costs and symptoms. Published byNSW Department of Land and Water Conservation, Sydney.

Department of Land and Water Conservation, 2000. Takingon the Challenge: the NSW Salinity Strategy. Published by NSWDepartment of Land and Water Conservation, Sydney.

Department of Land and Water Conservation, 2001.Offsets, Salinity and Native Vegetation Discussion Paper.Published by NSW Department of Land and WaterConservation, Sydney.

Dunnell, R. C., and Simek, I. F., 1995. Artefact size andplowzone processes. Journal of Field Archaeology 22:pgs.305-319.

Ecological Australia, 2002. Salinity Data Audit for theAboriginal Heritage and Salinity Project. Unpublished report tothe NSW National Parks and Wildlife Service, Sydney.

English, A.J., 2002a. The Sea and the Rock Gives Us aFeed: mapping and managing Gumbaingirr wild resource useplaces. NSW National Parks and Wildlife Service, Sydney.

English, A. J., 2002b. More than archaeology: developingcomprehensive approaches to Aboriginal heritage managementin NSW. Environmental & Planning Law Journal 9(4):pgs.218-227.

English, A.J., and Brown, C., 2000. It’s a Part of Us:Aboriginal people’s perspectives on the cultural values ofbiodiversity in NSW. Unpublished report to the NSW NationalParks and Wildlife Service and the Yarrawarra AboriginalCorporation.

English, A.J., and Gay, L., 1995. Archaeological Survey ofWyangala Dam, Central West NSW. Unpublished report to theNSW Department of Land and Water Conservation and theNSW National Parks and Wildlife Service.

English, A.J., Veale, S., and Erskine J., 1997. CulturalHeritage Assessment of Goobang National Park, Central WestNSW. Unpublished NPWS report to the Peak Hill, Dubbo andWellington Local Aboriginal Land Councils.

ERM Australia, 2003. Archaeological Assessment of TwoArtefact Scatters, Central West NSW for the Aboriginal Heritageand Salinity Project. Unpublished report the NSW NationalParks and Wildlife Service.

ERM Australia, 2003. Stage Two Assessment of an OpenSite on Bonanda Creek, “Easterfields”, Central West NSW.Unpublished report the NSW National Parks and WildlifeService.

Farrier, D., 2002. Fragmented law in fragmentedlandscapes: the slow evolution of integrated natural resourcemanagement legislation in NSW. Environmental and PlanningLaw Journal 19(2): pgs.89-108.

Goodall, H., 1996. Invasion to Embassy: land in Aboriginalpolitics in New South Wales. Allen & Unwin/Black Books.

Goodall, H., 2002. The River Runs Backwards in Bonyhady,T., and Griffiths, T., (eds), Words for Country. Landscape andLanguage in Australia. University of New South Wales Press.

Goulding, M. 2001. Cultural Places, Contested Spaces: astudy of Aboriginal people’s historical attachments to landscape.Unpublished report to the NSW National Parks and WildlifeService as part of the Coffs Harbour Aboriginal Heritage Study.

Harrison, R., 2002. Shared histories and the archaeologyof the pastoral industry in Australia, In Harrison, R., andWilliamson, C., (eds). After Captain Cook: the archaeology ofthe recent Indigenous past in Australia. University of Sydney.

Harrison, R., and Williamson, C., (eds), 2002. AfterCaptain Cook: the archaeology of the recent Indigenous past inAustralia. University of Sydney.

Hollinsworth, D., 1998. Race and Racism in Australia.Social Science Press.

Howling, G.M., 1997. Remnant Vegetation in the CentralWest Catchment: issues and options for the future. Publishedby the Central West Catchment Management Committee.

Humphery, K., 1999. Talking Diabetes. Aboriginal andIslander Health Worker Journal. 23: pgs. 2-4.

Indigenous Land Corporation, 1996. Regional IndigenousLand Strategy 1996 – 2001.

Kabaila, P., 1995. Wiradjuri Places. Jamison Centre, ACT,Black Mountain Projects.

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McKell, W.J., 1945. Soil Conservation. Journal of the SoilConservation Service of NSW 1(1): pgs.5-7.

McKenna, M., 2002. Looking for Blackfellows Point:an Australian history of place. UNSW Press.

Mulligan, M. and Hill, S., 2001. Ecological Pioneers: asocial history of Australian ecological thought and action.Cambridge University Press.

Munday, B., 2002. Engineering options for dryland salinitymanagement: where and when to dig or pump. AustralianLandcare, March 2002: pgs.32-33. Agricultural PublishingPty Ltd, Moonee Ponds, Victoria.

Murray Darling Basin Initiative Operating EnvironmentStrategy, 1999. People as an Integral Part of the Initiative: ahuman dimension strategy.

Native Vegetation Advisory Council, 2001. AboriginalCultural Values of the Native Vegetation of New South Wales.DLWC, Sydney.

NPWS, 1999. Corporate Plan 1999-2002, NPWS, Sydney.Oates, N., (ed) 1995. Putting Back the Bush: The role of

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Popp, T., Adams, M., McKenzie, N., Kemp, R., McNee, A.,and Neal, P., 1995. Settlements of Green: A guide to tree plantingon Aboriginal lands in NSW. NSW Aboriginal Land Council,Aboriginal Torres Strait Islander Commission, Bureau of ResourceScience and Greening Australia.

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Index

Aboriginal Heritage and Salinity Project 3-4, 5, 10, 11, 12-14, 28, 40, 69, 73see also Wellington case-study

Aboriginal Land Council, Wellington 33, 40, 62

Aboriginal places 20-21, 40attachment to 4, 12, 40post-contact 22, 76see also archaeological sites; camps

Aborigines Protection Act (1909) 43Aborigines Protection Board 42Aborigines Welfare Board 46agriculture 1, 3, 32, 39, 60

salinity and 10, 18, 59-60Allen, Bill 33Amatto, John 35, 44, 45, 49, 51, 53Apsley Mission 41archaeological sites 21-22, 36-37,

56-59, 71assessment of 12, 13, 14, 28, 32, 36-37assessment targets 74-75distribution 56-57, 62and landholders 62mapping 36, 37, 56, 57, 58, 71, 74potential for 36, 57protection of 71, 72, 74salinity-affected 21, 56, 57-59, 62-64, 72artefact scatters 3, 21, 37, 56, 57-58,59, 62, 63

Barmah State Forest 17Barnes, Tommy 49Barrington River 43Bell River 33, 35, 38, 44, 59Bell, Grahame 37Bell, John (Jack) 35, 42, 49biodiversity 2, 23, 26, 38, 62, 76

loss of 3, 60, 68salinity and 10, 14, 19

bitou bush 23Blacks Camp 41, 42, 46, 61Blakes Fall Mission 41Blueprint for a Living Continent 9Bulgandramine 43burials 21, 56, 57, 63, 64Burrendong Dam 38, 39, 50, 51, 59bush foods 22-23, 47-50, 60

availability of 3, 20, 21, 23, 33, 49, 76use of 22, 23, 24, 36, 47-50see also wild resources

bush medicines 14, 33, 47, 49, 50, 52,53, 60, 61

bush tomato 52

Bushrangers Creek 33, 35, 41, 44, 45, 46, 52, 61

camps: archaeological 62, 63 (see alsoarchaeological sites)historic 33, 44, 46, 76

carp 50Carr, Bill 35, 40, 48, 52, 53Carr, Jamie 44Carr, Violet 35, 44, 46, 48, 49, 52Carr, William (Kingy) 35, 44, 49Catchment Action Plans 18catchment management 4, 5, 10, 36

blueprints 10, 68, 69Catchment Management Act (1989) 69Catchment Management Authorities

18, 68catfish 51, 52Catombal Range 31, 38Child Endowment Act (1941) 44Chinese 44-46Chown, Rose 30, 33, 35, 44, 46, 47, 54clearing 1-2, 20, 31, 32-33, 38, 40, 60control of 62, 68

and salinity 3, 15, 69and wild resources 23, 33, 54, 61

Cook, Billy 49“country” 22, 24, 26, 60-61, 72crayfish 7, 49, 52Crown lands 39, 41, 43, 44, 61, 62,

75, 76see also reserves

Cudgegong River 38cultural heritage 3, 4

at catchment-scale 5, 10, 13, 67, 68, 69

community role in 14, 67, 73data on 4, 5, 67, 73definitions of 14dynamism of 14, 73indicators 4, 71-72management of 1, 4, 5, 11, 13, 33, 67-79

cultural identity, Aboriginal 2, 21, 45, 72cultural renewal 3, 55, 61, 64Cunningham, Corina 66Cunningham, Crystal 66Curra Creek 33, 44, 46

Daley, Aaron 37Dandaloo 43die back 31, 38, 39ducks 44, 52

Earle, Augustus 1-2, 38“Easterfield” 37, 58

echidnas (“porcupines”) 27, 35, 48, 49,52, 55, 60, 61

emu 47emu bush 53, 54, 60, 70Environmental Impact Assessment

27, 28, 56, 72environmental management 11

theories of 8, 10see also land management

erosion (soil) 3, 20, 31, 39, 51, 70and archaeological sites 21, 58, 59, 60, 75control of 62, 63

Eugowra 43

fire 2, 21, 23, 60, 69fishing 7, 22, 24, 47, 49, 50, 54, 55, 68,

71, 71

goannas 35, 39, 47, 48, 49, 50, 52, 53,54, 55, 60, 61

Goobang National Park 38-39, 56Goodall, Heather 42Griffin, Vivienne 35, 36, 42, 49, 51,

53, 54Gunther, Revd James 41

Handt, Revd JCS 41, 47Harris, Ben 49health 3, 24-26, 76Hervey Ranges 38Hsu, Ailing 57hunting 4, 22, 47, 48, 50, 54, 72

Ilford 43Indigenous Land Corporation 24Indigenous Land Use Agreement 40, 46Invalid and Old Age Pension Act

(1942) 44irrigation 3, 15, 18, 25

Kabaila, Peter 41, 43kangaroo 47, 49, 60Knuckey’s Store 22, 61

labour, agricultural 42, 43, 44, 50land degradation 2-3, 15, 24, 39, 64

cultural effects of 4, 5, 9, 26economic effects of 24see also erosion; salinity

land management 1, 4community role in 11, 36costs of 39cultural outcomes 64, 67

landholders’ role in 39see also environmental management;


88

salinity managementLandcare 17, 26, 59local knowledge 2, 14, 28, 33

Macquarie River 6, 33, 38, 39, 40, 51, 68market gardens 33, 35, 44-46, 50milk weed 52missions 32, 40, 41, 43, 46mistletoe 52, 53Murray cod 23, 51, 52, 60Murray River 7, 8mussels 51, 52

Namina (Village) 33, 35, 40, 42, 43, 45,46, 61, 73

Namina Falls 41National Dryland Salinity Program 23National Parks 2, 38, 47National Parks and Wildlife Act (1974) 74Native Title Act 1993 (Cwth) 46native vegetation 9, 38, 71

loss of 15, 19, 20, 39mapping of 38, 62preservation of 18, 63, 70, 72

Native Vegetation Act (2003) 24natural resource management 3, 14, 68

community role in 10, 69and cultural heritage 3, 8, 10, 67, 68, 71see also environmental management;

land managementNatural Resource Management Plans

69, 73natural resource officers, Aboriginal 37Nicholson, Alan 36nut grass 52

old man weed 52oral history 12, 14, 33, 41, 60Orana Development Corporation 40, 62Oxley, John 40

Pearson, M 56“porcupines” see echidnaspossum berries 48, 52possums 47, 48, 49, 52Powell, Evelyn 7-9, 35, 48, 49, 51, 52,

53, 60Powell, Fred 7, 35, 52

quandongs 48, 52, 60, 70

rabbits 35, 48, 49, 50, 52rations 42, 49Regional Vegetation Management Plans

68reserves: Aboriginal 7, 40, 42, 46

Crown 23, 61 (see also Crown lands)road 38, 39, 49, 50, 54, 61, 76revegetation 15, 18-19, 26, 28, 36, 39,

67, 69, 72, 76rivers 8, 39, 56, 69

cultural heritage of 9, 24, 71salinity and 10, 15, 50

rock art 21, 57, 63

salinity 3, 14-18, 59-60cultural effects of 2, 3, 9-10, 11, 19-26, 28, 32, 59, 60-64, 73-74data on 36, 57dryland 15, 38, 59economic effects 10, 59-60industrial 15irrigation 15and landowners 10-11mapping 17-18, 32, 36physical effects 9, 10, 19, 31, 61river 15, 60, 72types 15urban 11, 15-17, 59, 61-62, 76

Salinity and Biodiversity Study (NPWS) 17salinity management 2, 4, 8, 13, 18-19,

20, 26-28, 36, 59-60, 70and Aboriginal heritage 11, 12, 13, 18, 26-28, 60, 64, 70, 72, 73-74, 75community role in 28, 75-77costs of 39cultural outcomes of 4, 39, 64, 67-79and landholders 19, 32, 60mitigation 3, 11, 64remediation 15, 18, 19, 20, 21, 28, 58, 60, 67, 74, 76

Salinity on Australian Farms (ABS) 15, 18-19

Salinity Strategy, NSW 11, 17, 18, 37Salt Action Team 12, 37, 59scarred trees 19, 21, 36, 56, 57, 63, 64shearing 49, 50, 61

“The Springs” 35, 37, 44, 48, 61

Soil Conservation Service 39Stanley, Bill 49Stewart, Robert 35, 49stock routes 23, 39, 49, 54, 61, 76swans 52Symons, Josh 37

Talbragar 43TARGET Project 38totemic values 23-24, 49tourism 19, 24turtles 51, 52

vegetables 44, 49

Wagga Wagga 17, 22Wakool 19wallabies 47Water Management Plans 68water quality 3, 8, 19, 25, 50, 59, 60,

62, 71Watson, Reverend William 41welfare 43-44, 61Wellington 31, 32, 38, 39, 40, 42, 44Wellington case-study 12, 22, 24, 31-64,

68, 73aims 32environment of 38-39methodology 32-33, 36-37

Wellington Shire Council 12, 31Wellington Town Common 30, 32, 33, 35,

40, 41, 42-43, 45, 46, 54, 61, 73Wentworth Group 9, 64West, Fred 55West, Paul 33, 49-50, 52, 53, 54, 55, 60wild resources 32, 47-50, 64, 71, 75-76

concerns for 54, 55, 60-61see also bush foods; bush medicines

Williams, Joyce 35, 40, 42, 43, 44, 49, 52

Willie, Joan 35, 49, 50, 52, 53, 54

yabbies 49, 50, 52yams 52yarran 52yathanda 52, 53yellow-belly 7, 51, 52, 60yuliman 48



“It’s really upsetting for me to see that salt. That white dirt eating away at the land.

It’s just like a cancer, gobbling everything up in its path. It makes me feel no good

inside because when you relate to the land in a spiritual Aboriginal way, and seeing

these things, it makes me feel no good.”

Evelyn Powell, Wiradjuri Elder living at Nanima Village near Wellington in

Central West NSW.

The term "salinity" refers to the presence of salt in our waterways and soils at unnatural

levels. Caused by the loss of native vegetation and the subsequent raising of water-

tables, salinity is one of the most significant environmental problems facing Australia

today. It has already generated widespread damage to agricultural lands, biodiversity,

urban settlements and regional economies. Researchers have estimated that Australia

loses a piece of land the size of a football field to salinity every day.

This book looks at the effects of salinity, and environmental problems more generally,

on Aboriginal cultural heritage in New South Wales. It explores how environmental

degradation can affect cultural places such as historic sites, people’s "country", their

bush foods and medicines, their well-being and their sense of community identity.

The book sets out ideas and strategies for dealing with these problems. Its core

message is that we need to link the management of natural and cultural heritage

and understand the relationship between people’s sense of place and the condition

of the environment around them.

www.environment.nsw.gov.au

Living Land Living CultureAnthony English & Louise Gay

Living LandLiving Culture

Documents

Living Land Living Culture Aboriginal Heritage and Salinity