Today’s photos come from Dean Graetz, who notes, “I offer an unusual contribution to Readers wildlife photos. It is an unusual personal story.” Dean’s captions are indented, and you can enlarge the photos by clicking on them.
A Wild Life Extinction
Some 50 years ago, I encountered an unfamiliar way of Life. It was a Wild Life: the lifestyle of Aboriginal people who have lived as nomadic hunter-gatherers in the Australian deserts for the last 60,000 years. I met three old men, likely 60+ years of age, who could recall their first sighting of ‘Whitefellas’. Their early lives were as nomadic hunter-gatherers, one that could be perilously difficult. So, I began to follow any published stories of the desert dwellers from then until now, 50 years later, when they have stopped. Some photos are mine with historic others borrowed from the Public Domain. This was the spirit of the encounter. There were 6 people in that vehicle
The location was Amata, in South Australia: Aboriginal land: home of the Pitjantjatjara, a language which every member of the party spoke but me. It was in one of the 10 named Australian deserts where the landscapes are as spectacular as the night sky. Some important Dreaming stories are based on the constellations interpreted as the activities of animals, such the Emu, or people:
Because it is customary to bring gifts to your hosts, we shot two Red Kangaroos (Macropus rufus) knowing that they would be enjoyed as ‘properly good tucker’:
Our shot kangaroo retriever (effortlessly carrying 30+ kilos) was an important ‘law’ man and hunter. By incredible chance, I knew of him (by name) from reading an anthropologist’s (1972) account of him:
His fame came from his ability to spear eagles in flight. An astonishing skill:
It was difficult to hide the presents that we were bringing:
The three elders were happy to receive us with our gift of kangaroos. Note that they are smallish men, likely protein-limited in early life, now getting ‘fat and shiny’ on store-bought food. As an intruder, I took very few photos. I noticed they were urinary incontinent but was later told that, as a condition of manhood, they had been circumcised as teenagers, then later they had opted to be sub incised (aka ‘whistle-dicked’) and were very proud of the seniority and masculine status that conferred. Their dress and traditional accommodation (‘Wiltja’) in the background was their choice ignoring Whitefella’s available welfare. The desert landscape was exceptionally lush in 1974; it was the wettest year on record:
They were reluctant (hand covering mouth) to talk about their younger days when there were no Whitefellas around. They smiled at recalling their family group’s long travels – walkabout- to hunt and ‘see’ their country. They admitted that they ate more lizards than fat kangaroos, and there were some ‘tough times’ that were not be talked about. Later, the three elders and their wives – who had been hidden – plus a few friends waited, for 20 minutes of cooking on an open fire, to eat the two kangaroos at one long evening sitting. Around the neighbouring Whitefella campfire, the considered opinion of hunter-gatherers was that in 1974, ‘there is no one out there now’. “All gone: all finish him up!”:
This brief contact was an end point of a long personal and professional interest in the desert landscapes and in the people who surprisingly endured their harshness. As a university student (1950s) I was intrigued by photos, such as this, of full grown Aboriginal men (beards) but with teenager-sized bodies. It had to be the result of malnourishment. Why did they live there? And, more importantly, how did they live there?:
In 1974, these questions were now in the past tense. There were no hunter-gathering people still ‘out there’, living out their ‘wild’ lives. Because of government concern for their welfare, efforts ensured they had all been ‘contacted’. The deserts, ‘their country’, were now empty of its intriguing inhabitants.
Not so! In 1977, a search party located a couple hiding for 30 years in the remote Gibson Desert fearing tribal vengeance – ‘The last of the Nomads’. Then, in 1984, a small group, The Pintupi Nine, walked out of the desert and made contact – as below on day 2, first clothes. Next, in 1986, a family group of seven (Richters/Rictors) emerged from the Great Victoria Desert. Now 40 years later, we can conclude that hunter-gatherers are now extinct across the Australian continent:
The hunter-gatherer life requires self-sufficiency. Your food is only what you can find or kill. Your tools are only what you can make. Your only ability to manipulate the landscape is the fire that you ignite, and you control.
Does it matter that this nomadic way of life is no longer pursued in Australia? No: but an understanding of what and when it was is important for our societal memory. This quote from a historian says it all.
“Perhaps all people on Earth need a sense of the continuing existence of ‘nomads’, for all of our ancestors were once so. They remind us of who we are.”
Thanks! Nice photos and discussion.
Wow, what a fascinating experience for you to have. And what remarkable pics, thank you for sharing. Aboriginal history is something that I’ve long thought to educate myself on, but keep postponing, probably out of intimidation. Is this your field of study? Separately, the desert sky in Australia really is awe-inspiring. My husband and I keep saying we need to do a proper trip to Australia for this very reason. (Aboriginal art from Australia has long intrigued me, particularly the desert scenes, so when I visited Australia on business in 2019, I was determined to pick up a few pieces, to add to my growing collection from Africa. Alas, I was clearly years too late on that bandwagon, as the prices were way out of my league. In the end I only brought home an aboriginal art-inspired silk tie for my husband…)
Sigh. I love aboriginal art, too, and regret that the cost ensures that it will never grace my walls.
Interestingly, some of the youths who were among the Pintupi Nine have grown up to be very famous artists.
A moving and lovely story with a relevant reminder of how our ancestors all lived.
Fascinating to look into those faces and imagine their daily lives and struggles and thoughts.
Fascinating story!
I loved your post. I’ve long been fascinated by ethnographic accounts of indigenous people, including Australian aboriginals. You were very lucky to be able to meet people who span the divide between the original human lifeways and modernity.
I’ve also read a lot about the Pintupi Nine. One detail that has always stuck with me was that one of the reasons they decided not to return to the bush was … sugar! After they got their first taste, there was no going back. So, if you want the answer to the modern obesity crisis, that’s a strong clue.
I want to add that that the portrait of the father and child is breathtaking. And from a purely aesthetic point of view, the child’s curls are exquisite.
Again, thank you!
It’s gorgeous isn’t it. With all the throw away selfies that people take, we sometimes forget how beautiful a good photograph of humans can be. The photographer has a good eye.
Hi Brooke. There is no natural sugar sources in the desert country. I’ve been with people who sucked tree flowers and then spate out the ants, just to get at the nectar. Sweetness is a sensational and addictive experience and aboriginal people, particularly the women, are easily hooked, even now. But people are learning from the misjudgment of their peers. Cheers
This was fantastic. Thanks so much for sharing the photos and story.
I truly fascinating story all bound up in a few pictures
Fascinating photos and a really interesting story, thank you. It’s lovely to have the stories told with photographs.
The constellation photo is especially stunning.
20+ years ago I was in Siwa Oasis staring at a sky like that, and started to get uneasy. I realised there was a ‘hole’ in that sky where there were no stars. It seemed very spooky, but I knew there had to be a logical explanation. It took me some minutes to realise that it wasn’t a ‘hole’ in the stars, it was just the moon between me and the stars, blocking them out. I hadn’t realised it was the new moon phase that night, so the moon itself was dark. I still remember the feelings I had vividly after all this time.
I suspect that you were actually looking at the Coalsack Nebula, a dark nebula, made of cold gas and dust that is seen projected against the fairly bright Milky Way, and which, to the naked eye, really does look like a hole in the stars.
I suspect you were not looking at the moon, partly because at new moon the moon is illuminated by earthshine (light from the sun, reflected by earth onto the moon) and so is actually quite bright. Also, a new moon is, of course, only going to be visible in a similar direction to the sun, so is seen at dusk and dawn, not during the dark of night, and almost always with a thin crescent surrounding the earthshine-illumination portion.
So your description of what you saw fits the Coalsack Nebula (or another similar dark nebula) better than the new moon.
Thank you for that information. It was a perfect circle and the same size as the moon would be. I’ll have to google the nebula. There weren’t any stars at all visible in that circle, but maybe there aren’t any stars between us and that nebula. There wasn’t any light in the circle at all, which is why I thought it was something causing a shadow between me and the stars, i had no idea that there were nebulae like that. I’m looking forward to reading more, thanks.