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Desert Feet Tour October 2011. 'Return to the Kimberley's'
3 November 2011

Tuesday Day 1
27/9/11
The Road to Broome
The road out of Perth is an escalator to a continental flat top. After Dalwallinu, it’s nothing but a level pan forever in every direction, but up till then it’s like a mountainous climb for the poor old White Rhino, her 8 tonne arse grinding to a snail’s pace on every hill, as Mack Trucks and Kenworth, triple trailer road trains, overtake our humble little Hino. Meanwhile, in some low gear, we urge her forward with our wills. We have learnt to leave early in the morning now, to avoid a caravan of angry grey nomads caught behind us in a line trailing all the way back to Perth. I don’t think we have ever actually overtaken another vehicle except for a transportable house on a semi’ once. She runs faster in the cool night air and so it was that we departed the Desert Feet Headquarters at 2am. A little too late to go to bed and a little too early, to be up early. A perfect time to leave. I took the first shift and the morning light saw us out of the crowed suburb’s and onto the long open fields of the Wheatbelt, all green and alive with the last rains of winter.
 
Emily is spread out in the back of the dual cab, snoring in time to the beat of the music that’s blaring away over the roar of 187 kilowatts of diesel power, compression- ignition, compression- ignition, hundreds of miniature explosions every second under our feet. An orchestra of mechanical music, the symphony of the diesel dance. I love the familiar tick of a diesel, purring the road away.
 
I cut a plank of timber to fit into the floor recess next to the bench seat in the back, and then I glued a 100mm piece of foam onto it and covered it in nice blue marine grade vinyl, effectively turning the dual cab area into a big bed. After doing it, I also realised if this career doesn’t work out I could seek work as an upholsterer. With another foam mattress, three pillows, a doona and Em with her laptop propped open playing a DVD, it looks more like a hotel room then the back of a truck. I’m looking forward to my turn at testing out that soft mattress soon.
By taking turns at sleeping we have kept the truck on the road all night and all day, back in my commercial fishing days they called that “hot bunking it” because the bed never goes cold. The truck is running like a gem and as we are ahead of schedule. I am keeping her steady, there’s no need to push her, and she runs so much better around 80 kilometres an hour, cooler and better fuel economy. Not that she goes much faster than that anyway.
 
I wish I had a different story for you this time around, a story other than financial difficulties and sheer determination, but maybe that’s what makes the Desert Feet Tour something different, something human and simple. At least I hope that we might have those qualities in spite of our other shortcomings. For me, I can’t wait to get back to the desert, I can’t wait to see the kids, I can’t wait to play music with the Bayulu Band again and I can’t wait to feel the land breathe beneath my feet, that intensity, that unnameable quality that ‘IS’ the Kimberley’s. Hell, I love it so much I’d do it for free! Funny that.
I’d do this job (well it’s really a vocation) for free, forever if I had to, in return for one thing. In fact, I’d give up everything I own for that same thing; that in my time I might see our Indigenous culture get the recognition it deserves.
How? Maybe it could start with education? Maybe a humble beginning in our pre-schools, or would teaching Australian Indigenous History as a permanent and compulsory part of our curriculum at all schools make a difference? Would that open a world of infinite possibility, enriching and enlightening? I remember reading “Bury My Heart at Wounded Knee” in school. I knew about American Indians before I knew about Australian Indigenous history.
But, don’t just take my word for it. The United Nations Human Rights Committee has expressed concern about Australians lack of a ‘Bill of Rights’ since Australia ratified the ICCPR in 1980. But why should we listen to the rest of the world? We are Australia right? Powerful and Industrious?! Hmmmm
No Bill of Rights, no Treaty and only 40 years has elapsed since black Australians were Fauna; so how is our Indigenous Culture fairing? Is it regarded as an ancient and richly diverse culture, revered for its anthropological value? Celebrated for its sustainability in the face of ages of adversity? Is its music flooding our airwaves and its art and culture flowing in our streets?
I happened to see the ABC news clip the other night about the lock of hair that links the DNA of our Indigenous residents back 75,000 years, and so once again the scientists have had to remodel the course of history. Well I’m not out to rewrite history but I hope to record just a little piece of it, before it slips beyond our site and out of memory forever.
 
Day 2
Wednesday 28/9/11
Broome
After 37 hours on the road, we rolled into Broome at 3pm. The White Rhino, she’s no speeding Cheetah but she stomps away with constant determination. The emerald green beaches of the Kimberley’s sprang up to greet us and first stop was a visit to Gantheaume Point for a run on the beach and a swim in the ocean. A very delighted Bella was pouncing around with joy after being cooped up on the back of the truck for 2 days.
 
Our old friend and long time tour advisor, cameraman and producer Peter Strain saved us some expenses by housing, feeding and watering us for the night. At this stage ‘us’ consist of (other than Emily and I) only Brian Lloyd, our long serving and loyal Hip Hop star and Ewan Buckley, our now permanent and dedicated Sound Engineer, Recording and Production manager and talented guitarist and performer. The two guys arrived tonight at 9pm in the Prado (supplied by Macmahon). Candice will arrive by plan on Friday and we are excited to have our old friend and previous band member of ‘The Orphans,’ Richard Watson, back this tour too. Richard, an extraordinary musician and multi instrumentalist, will once again double as our photographer and performer.
 
Day 3
Thursday 29/9/11
Broome
After a chance meeting in the shopping centre last night, Emily and I made a trip out to Milliya Rumera, a rehab out of town owned by an Aboriginal Corporation, to catch up with Barry Bartlett first thing this morning. We got lucky and met up with a team of health workers, and chronic disease nurses. The whole team were super keen about our work after we showed them some of our DVD’s, and invited us to go out to One Mile Community with them in the morning to visit one of the local bands that play around here. It seems we might have created some great ground swell for the Cape Leveque Communities part of the Tour between several of the outreach teams here and they are very interested in meeting our Diabetes WA team who arrive on Sunday.
 
We spent most of the day doing administration tasks, but the big breakthrough was Ewan’s discovery of a Melbourne based youth arts theatre company called Western Edge that have coordinated a visit to Beagle Bay during our time up the Peninsular. The Community got very excited about the potential of us setting up the DFT Stage during the events to create a festival type day with our live music. Since then, we have been approached by several other musicians wanting to play at the concerts. It sounds exciting; running into other travelling organisation in a remote area could result in some interesting outcomes. It was very fortuitous and we are all excited about it.
 
Tomorrow is our first concert in a Prison. It will fulfil a long-standing desire of mine and hopefully be the first of many more. I hope to impress the Correctional Services and gain their support. So far they have been very accommodating, but so they should be, we are doing it for free! Anyway ever since I saw the Jonny Cash movie I have had the idea and I just had to do it too! They have been asking us to do something for the prisoners for a few years now, but always something happens or it’s cancelled. This year they offered us an audience but told me the funds are very limited. I said, “How limited is limited?” They said, “Well, do up a quote and send it through for your normal day rate and I’ll see what we can do.” I thought that sounded promising, until the reply declined our services? I called back and asked what the problem was. “Well we don’t have those sorts of funds in the budget.” I was told. “Ok”, I said, “Why don’t you just pay a performance fee to my Indigenous performers, that way you are in investing in the social capital and helping my crew? “Ok, how much would that be then?” they asked. “Well, give Candice and Brian $500 each and we will do every thing else for free.” I said. More silence, then a reply, “Sorry Damien, we don’t have those sorts of funds in the budget.” Well ok!” I said “How much do you have in the budget???!!” “Well, about $200.” Comes the reply! “Geez man, why didn’t you just say that in the first place? Did you think we might be cheaper than that or something?” “Ok.” I said, “Don’t worry about it we’ll come for free! Just promise me you won’t cancel and that you’ll let the prisoners play too!” “Deal!” I even got me a letter from the correctional services saying they support the DFT! That’s all I really wanted anyway.
 
Day 4
Friday 30/9/11
Broome Prison  (will they let me back out?)
Filled with both anticipation and a bit of trepidation, we drove up to the high gates of the Broome Prison. Would we be accepted, would we be welcomed, what if they didn’t like us? Would they taunt us? Nah, most of the guys in here are Indigenous, they would be from the surrounding communities, and would know people that we had visited or that we are about to visit. We have been told that a few of the guys had been getting their songs ready to play and were keen to get up too.
However, arriving was a bit disconcerting, civilian or not, you get treated with suspicion by the guards, at first anyway. Then after signing in and handing over all your personal items like phone and wallet, as fleeting as it might be, one gets the sense of the isolation and powerlessness that comes with prison. The reality is that the high security part of this jail is only small, and most of these guys have only done petty crime or made silly mistakes like driving without a licence too many times, or getting drunk and hitting the wrong person.
We were all issued with a panic button (which doesn’t exactly give you much confidence), but when we had been dressed down and talked up we met a few of the prisoners, called peer support, who had offered to help us load in. Bobby was the first I met; a warm handshake revealed that he was obviously keen on the gym, his forearms rippled with sinew and veins. But his eyes told me a story of loyalty and hardship. We were mates right away and Bobby gave me the guided tour of his cell and introduced me to his cellie’s. It turns out he is from Beagle Bay, is one of the musicians in here, and he was very keen to play! When we told him we would record it and give him a copy he was ecstatic and offered to talk to his cousin in Beagle Bay to make sure we get some mud crabs while up the peninsular. He told me the guys like to play in here but there is no funding for equipment. Some gear had been donated but the guards had glued the volume knobs to low, rendering them useless. I told him “Don’t worry you can let off some steam today.”
A bunch of the prisoners jumped into action and our setup was competed in an hour. We had fun working with the guys and of course Emily and Candice were the star attractions. Both the girls impressed me with their courageous and fearless attitudes and twice I caught site of Emily giving directions to the prisoners as to where this goes or that plugs in. And I had to snigger to myself at the irony of it, meek little Emily with her army of loyal convicts, following her instructions. We got them to do a sound check and there were 8 or so guys that made up the three separate bands. None of the bands had a name, and typical of the talent you find amongst the mob, it was nothing for them to change instruments in-between songs and interchange players during the set. It’s a feat that has always amazed me and makes watching Indigenous musicians so entertaining.
Emily and I kicked off the gig with some soulful acoustic tunes and I was inspired by the applause we received after each song. Our stage was located at the back of the basketball court and faced a shaded yard. The cellblocks, with 6 to a cell, surrounded us on all sides, except to our right where the dark steel mesh of the high security block flanked us. These guys are not allowed into the GP and so our location was arranged that they might be entertained too. In there, no movement could be seen and the anonymous residents lurked in obscurity behind the lightless black grill. However, their audience was confirmed by wolf cries and applause that sounded from the faceless prisoners within, and so I felt a great feeling of fulfilment, knowing I reached another, across seemingly impenetrable circumstances, across cultural worlds and from different ends of the spectrum, music was the bridge and I knew “But for that but the grace of God, there go I,” and because I know all things human are in all humans, only our circumstances separated us today. Not the walls, not the tattoos and not the loneliness of solitude, today we are all the same, we are all just emotive creatures enjoying music, and I am the lucky one to be given this opportunity, a day I will not fast forget.
 
The concert was attended by about 50 prisoners; some stayed in their cells, others loitered around the periphery. I had the chance to talk with a few of the boys after we had played, and having told them we would be visiting the communities, a few of the guys wanted to pass on regards to family and wives. Particularly two guys from Nookanbah, they were cousins of Dicky Cox, the Elder there. I went into their cell and sat on the bunk with them while they wrote a note. The besa block walls sweated nicotine tears in the tropical heat, six men, one toilet, 12 steel bars and no air-con, they spoke of countless nights of longing. A high barred window sold a vague promise of freedom beyond, and the countdown to release was a calendar in every man’s mind. Each repeated his release date with rehearsed contemplation and a sigh of hope. Hope for things to be different this time, next time.
 
When Bryte MC came on a few young guys got really whooped up. One of them approached me about getting some CD’s and I discovered they where Indonesian. I impressed them with my limited Indo’ slang and so won their friendship instantly. Apparently if I ever go to Sulawesi I will have many wives and much good shabu?? Not sure if any of that would be good for me, but it’s the thought that counts. After we had both exhausted our repertoire of the others native vocabulary, we watched the music in silence. I knew that he could not understand a thing Bryte yelled, but his enjoyment was evident and his whole countenance was enjoyable to witness.
 
If the measure of success is in being invited back, then I believe we won some ground. Watching the guys get up and had a play was the highlight for me and even the guards admitted that it seemed very cathartic for them. There is a big need in here for more of this stuff and with some funding we could spend a day or two workshopping and recording some songs with the guys. All agreed it would have many benefits, and the demand is self-evident. We were not allowed to take photos, so unfortunately I have no evidence that this ever happened, however I did get one good shot of the truck backing into the compound through the first high gate. Other than that, you’ll have to use your imagination.

Day 5

Saturday 1/10/11
Get Ready                                   

Today was about getting ready to go bush for a week. We fuelled the vehicles, readied the truck and gave her the big once over for the next long run. Emily and Candice bought four shopping trolleys full of food; Candice has made a meal plan and organised dinners for every night of the trip. Ewan mixed down the songs from the Prison gig to give to the boys and I picked up Richard from the airport. We went straight home and had a bit of a rehearsal as we have not played together since Richard was on tour with us last year. However, he is a musical virtuoso, Ewan and I both marvelled at his skill on the ‘cello. It was like he had never left and we had a great jam in the hotel apartment at the Grand Mercure. Richard is something of a mastermind. I have met people that are musical virtuoso’s before and they always astound me, but Richard is also mechanically minded, which is very rare. In fact I have never seen that combination before. His back ground is electrical engineering, but he has had training in both classical and jazz music. He can play any instrument on Earth with fluent ease, and build you a website at the same time. He loves gadgets and travels with a giant suitcase, which, upon opening, reveals a mass of half-built mechanisms, loose wires, transistors and various electrical equipment but no clothes. Ewan and I had a good laugh about that, until he proved himself to be the saviour of any situation again by producing a battery powered, shoulder mounted guitar amplifier when I complained that I couldn’t hear my guitar over his ‘cello?! I mean, who even knew one of those existed, let alone has one in his bag? He’s not even the guitarist! And so he has regained his title as the walking kitchen sink, once again this year.

Day 6

Sun, 2/10/11
The Big Gig

The Diabetes WA girls arrived this afternoon in time for our concert tonight at The Divers Tavern. I might take a moment to introduce them; Helen Mitchell is a nurse and well, everyone loves a Nurse, say no more. She has worked for Diabetes WA for 10 years now, and we met through my long term friend Ross. Ross had plans to join us on this inaugural partnership that he helped develop, but being diagnosed with cancer shortly after, now fights for his life back in Perth, his two young boys and wife are there for him and his time with them now more precious than ever, however it is with great regret that I left him this trip. It’s a fact that only strengthens my resolve to create a successful association with such an awesome organisation. Not only is it an amazing Not-For-Profit, its crew are inspirational people. I have had the good pleasure over the preceding months to get to know them, as we developed the funding applications, budget and itinerary towards developing healthy messages in our workshop to form this relationship with the health organisation. Helen saw it straight away, and of course Ross’ foresight and his master networking skill was the amalgam for such a great synergy.

Helens co-worker Asha Singh is not to be judged by her size. She is the tiniest and sweetest little lady I have ever met and she never stops smiling. Her CV is very impressive including a degree in Heath Science at UWA and between the two of them they have more Degrees than a thermometer.

Their arrival completes our tour ensemble now, and so tomorrow we shall head into the red earth of the Western Kimberley. However, one last event needs transpire first. That being a little, under the radar, show that I organised for the guys. My tour team are the nicest people you could wish to meet! They are multi-skilled and talented, but at the end of the day they are musicians. They can do workshops, facilitate learning and teach. They can write songs and record other artists, they are sound engineers, teachers and veteran performers, however, they just want to play music too. The gig tonight is not officially part of the Desert Feet Tour. It’s just a chance for these guys to let off some steam and get some exposure in front of a crowd as performers.

Fortunately, the venue was packed; a hens night and a birthday party filled most of the garden bar, but we are very close to the end of the Tourist season so this is a big crowd for this time of year. The venue really looked after us and laid on a huge feed. Having all the equipment set up was like being in heaven. All we had to do was show up and play. What a night; Resident audience, 1 kilo T-bone steaks and good friends. It was the ideal way for everyone to meet and get to know one another. Being a Sunday, the venue closed at 10pm and so it was not a late night either. Em and I left early and packed the truck ready for an early start.

 

Day 7

Mon 3/10/11
One Arm Point

The Cape Leveque road would be one of the most dangerous 4 wheel drive tracks I have ever been on. I have seen more rolled cars on that roadside in the 16 years that I have been travelling the peninsular, than in a Blues Brothers movie. I have seen trucks, not bogged, but more like sunk. During the wet, this road is a lake for months. It is old and mean. It’s been graded for years without back fill so parts of the it are so deep they look like they are below sea level. More like a river than a road. The real danger is the rifts; long shallow dips that fill with fine red drift sand. Once you hit them, the car can get airborne. It’s when you get three in a row that people flip their cars; trying to brake coming down out of a bounce leaves the driver with no steering. But these days it only lasts for a few hours. This is also the only dirt roads you will drive on that ends in bitumen, because the back half is sealed. How or why someone drove graders, rollers, bulldozers and bitumen over two hundred kilometres of some of the worst road on Earth to seal the back half is anyone’s guess.

The peninsular is a hive of controversy at the moment, as anyone with a TV or reading glasses would know. James Price Point, the site for the Woodside gas hub, has created a storm amongst the locals, the T.O’s, and greenies. It’s an unusual and complicated protest this time. Not a clear cut ‘good guys versus the corporate machine.’ In this case there are those that ‘have’ and  those that ‘have not.’ Fighting each other to. Then there are those that are ‘already there’ and they are wondering why everyone else has an opinion in their future and land all the sudden. As my interest is working towards reconciliation, it’s a debate that I’m going to stay neutral in, but I see that there are internal fractures between many of the once very strong groups, which is a shame. We will work with four communities up here, Djaridjin, Lombadina, One Arm Point and Beagle Bay. Our job is to record music with local bands and run workshops with the kids with a healthy lifestyle focus. We don’t live here, and we don’t need to be involved in or take sides in that debate. However it’s not quite that simple and so one must tread lightly at times.

 

Day 8

Tues, 4/10/11
One Arm Point big concert day.

I have sold the idea that the Desert Feet Tour musicians can improvise and incorporate any message into the songs we write. Thus, Diabetes WA’s very generous involvement. However, as yet we have never actually done that. Upon arriving here yesterday, for the first time this trip, I started to wonder if I had finally bitten off more than I could chew. There were very few kids around at all, and when I called up Djaridjin and Lombadina, neither communities had managed to organise any sort of coordination with One Arm Point about bringing kids across for the DFT workshops. With school holidays on, lots of the kids would be out camping or away on other communities and of course there would be no teachers or support from the school. Going directly into the school is, of course, the best way to reach the bulk of the kids, but that was not an option for us and so I had to try to coordinate things with the community.

In a remote community things run in their own time and you can make plans, but it pays to be open to possibilities. It is also a good idea to be pretty versatile. Delivery of the workshops and what type we do depends on the size of the turnout, the interest we have, and how they respond. All of which can vary greatly. After we set up the truck on the basketball court, it became obvious that it was going to be far too hot to do anything at all up there until after 6pm. The set-up nearly killed Ewan and I, coming from winter in Perth, and Emily, already a bit rundown, got heat stroke and went down entirely. With a man down and a short crew as it was, I had a few little voices in the back of my head starting to tell me I had stuffed up. Candice was a bit concerned about how to deliver the content of Diabetes into our workshops and where to do them.

So last night at dinner we brian stormed some ideas for a few hours. I am really, really anxious to deliver some good outcomes for the Diabetes team and so we worked on some song ideas around their core messages. Choose Water, Eat Healthy, Stay Fit. We had made announcements about the workshops last night and put up posters advertising workshops at 12pm today. Cris the CEO gave us the keys to the hall and told us to work in there out of the sun where the ladies paint. The local artists where happy for us to work in with them and so we had some cool space for starters.

At about 9am, Arlene from Broome Health Service, whom I had met at Millya Rumarra, showed up on the community with some of her co-workers and a carload of  kids, and by 11am we had about 20 more in the hall. All my fears soon vanished. The kids here are super, super cool. Polite, well mannered and actually extraordinarily accommodating. Some of them were so keen to be involved that they asked us how they could help! Their participation made it breezy and we made some lifelong friends, I do imagine. Bryte MC came good once again with his magical powers to create enthusiasm, and produced a fantastic hip hop song, got the kids rapping, beat boxing and writing cool lyrics.

For the song writing, I wanted to try something a bit different. Instead of trying to get the kids to write the lyrics, I wrote open ended verses like;

“If you need to take a drink, choose drinks that don’t make you sick”

Then we got them to list what sort of drinks make them sick. The first boy called out from the back of the room, “Coke!” And from then on, it was all smooth sailing. We had no problems getting them to sing it, and we recorded their little voices yelling to the music. All in all, a great day with some great outcomes for Diabetes WA to report with! And so a great feeling of satisfaction replaced any concerns I might have had.

These kids are something else, I don’t think I have ever met such generous and well mannered kids anywhere in the world. They helped us pack up and clean up the hall and the boys insisted that we go for a “men only” swim, and so our newly made friends took us to their favourite swimming spot. The King Sound is full of islands. Just off the shore of One Arm Point is the group of Sunday Islands. Not more than 500m of water separates the two shores. But they would be 500 of the most dangerous metres I have ever seen. 9m tides will travel in and out between these two shores every day, twice. The sheer volume of water over the centuries has cut a cliff face into the sedimentary foreshore. The current moves so ferociously it had churned itself into whirlpools, the riptides carried chunks of foam, spat out from some vicious confrontation further up stream. The stretch of water ran past like a river. We swam in the pristine green waters around the edges of the cliff, where a small outcrop protected us from her torrent. Imitating their forefathers pearl diving prowess, The boys played diving games, throwing large rocks into the deeper water then swimming down to find it. The bigger the rock and the further out you threw it the greater the reward.

When Bryte MC tried to sneak a cigarette in, thinking himself alone under the rock ledge, several of the boys came around the corner and caught him.  one of the boys declared in a loud voice, “You shouldn’t smoke!” Thinking quick Bryte proclaimed, “This is my last one, then I’m giving up”, to which the boy replied, “Why don’t you throw them in the water then?” Bryte feeling caught out agreed that he should and I saw him eye the full packet mournfully, then after a moment he returned with authority, “I can’t, that would be polluting” with an obvious relief in his voice. Till the boy rejoined without a seconds hesitation, “so put it in the bin!” Before Bryte had time to reply again, one of the other boys came up with a novel concept, “you throw it in the water and I will swim out and get it.” Bryte was cornered by logic as and the realisation grew on his face, I could almost hear him thinking, “I’m a role model, these kids look up to me, I’m out here doing health workshops and they have caught me smoking! I have to do it.” He carefully pulled the plastic wrapper off the outside and threw the pack into the ocean from the ledge, but before any of the kids could splash into the water below, Bella the super dog was off to the rescue, and with loud applause she returned to the water’s edge with a soggy pack of cigarettes. Not long afterwards, when a plastic bag floated past out in the current, one of the boys called out, “Hey, rubbish in the water will kill the turtles, if the turtle dies, we die.” I jokingly pointed to it and told Bella, “Go Fetch!” Next thing we know, Bella the super dog is doing her part to save the environment, much to the kids delight. There was loud applause and if I didn’t know that dogs can’t talk, I would have been sure Bella was showing off in response to all the encouragement. A veritable furore of whoops and laughter emerged as it became apparent that Bella had undertaken to protect native wild life from harm by swimming into the dangerous current, when she returned to the rocks with the recovered plastic bag hanging from her mouth, she became the star of the day. One of the kids asked me later how I had trained her to swim out and get stuff. “It’s just all part of the Desert Feet services” I explained. So Bella gained great respect amongst the kids, who all paid her much attention, and fought to sit with her in the back of the car on the way home.

 

The coastline here is pristine, in fact the Kimberley coast is one on the three last pristine wilderness’ in the world, including Antarctica and the Arctic. There is about 1200km of shoreline like this between Broome and the NT. The people here are Bardi, they are the salt water people. The desert mob call them “fish eaters,” because they don’t eat much roo or goanna at all. They love their turtle, dugong and fish and still hunt in traditional manner, with spear. As a result they look very healthy. The Bardi name for white man is Wharbal and this community is one of the few communities that has capitalised on the Wharbal’s visits, it survives on tourism and some of the locals hire out as cultural guides. One in particular, Bruce Wigger is famous the world over (you can Google him) for his advice to anthologists, scientists and wilderness tours, he has a strong connection to the spirit world and is a well known and celebrated healer, people come from far and wide to have his hands laid upon their head. He has been carving pearl shell and painting for tourists here for nearly 50 years. He is a beautiful looking old man with rich deep lines in his face and long straight white hair which he adorns with a huge bell tower black cowboy hat. I’d say he was a stockman or a drover, as his legs are bowed and he walks with the pendulum swing of a horseman. When he talks, you want to bottle his words, his voice is soft and calm but a storm of energy lives in every word. He did some healing on Emily, which we were very grateful for too, I’ll tell you if it worked tomorrow. 

One Arm Point is known as ‘the model community” right now. It has made an incredible transition and with great foresight, into the business of tourism, as I mentioned above, yet maintained a strong connection to land and culture. It is not a dry community (and I had my fears about that before we came, especially with our concerts, which can be a cause for celebration), but they have strong control and respect. The native title here extends up to the peninsular and it is the One Arm Point or Ardyaloon council that owns the Cape Leveque Resort. They even have their own air strip to fly tourists in and out.

This peninsular is a spectacular land mass, as is proven by the demand now placed upon it by visitors. But it was not always like that. The world left this continent alone for centuries after it was discovered simply because it was considered barren. When William Dampier landed in this very area of the King Sound in 1688, he said in his journals “The land is of a dry sandy soil, destitute of water.” He, like the Dutch about a hundred years before him, reported to his King that the country was useless. How wrong they where!

 

Our concert was well attended because the community put on a beautiful feed for the BBQ; huge beef skewers, crumbed sausages and gourmet style marinated meats! Also, after spending so much time with the kids, the concert was well advertised. The real highlight was when the Seaside Drifters, from One Mile, near Broome, showed up. Arleen and Jules had told us about them and then took us out to meet the guys before we left. I asked if they would play for us and paid for their fuel to come up. They were really keen and so when they showed up it created a bit of a buzz all ‘round. They call themselves the Seaside Drifters, but most of them are Shoveller brothers. The Shovellers are traditionally from Bidyadanga, and Frank Shoveller is pretty famous in these parts for his Family Band, which features 3 of his young kids. (The CD is in every store up here, but keep an eye out for these guys as they will be the next Pigram Brothers, I predict). As usual, the local band ripped it up all night, with copious amounts of raw skill, unparalleled improvisations of various radio classics, infused with their original Desert Reggae feel, and (as always) culminating in a 20 minute version of Wipeout, performed with a magic finger-tapping version of the guitar solo.

 

Day 9

Wed, 5/10/11.

Today’s workshops would be Candice’s domain, we have 2 guitars to give to the community, thanks to donations from our Sponsors. We set up ours as well, along with the bass, and so several of the kids learnt some basic guitar skills at the workshop. It was a very satisfying session, which Candice managed with competent mastery. The group of about 20 children sight-read the 6 bars of music that Candice had prepared for the various instruments. She broke them into relevant groups then had them all come back and perform the piece as an ensemble. I have seen this workshop several times, and I am still always impressed. If you told me you could have a group of kids reading sheet music and then performing the piece inside an  hour I would not have believed you.

 

We made bit of a ceremony by presenting the guitars to Jackie from the One Arm Point Council in front of the class, and then sent them all home with a promise of a concert and free BBQ again tonight. This time, almost all the kids stayed back and so we followed them down to the Round Rocks for a swim, but this time we all went down together, girls and boys, and we rested in the shade under the cliffs while the tide crept up the rocks. Soon enough it was so high the kids jumped from the top ledge, and in this manner the whole afternoon evaporated into the Kimberley sun faster than a water drop on a hot rock. Before we knew it, Ewan was saying, “Hey, c’mon let’s go set up the stage, we’re running late!” and I was roused from a delicious siesta, in the afternoon breeze by an emerald sea, on a smooth rock with cries of laughter and sounds of splashing water that had lulled me to sleep.

 

At about 12pm Ewan, Richard and I sat down to dinner. The concert finished, the truck packed down and ready to leave in the morning and the others all fast asleep, preparing to make for an early departure. I had a coffee and wanted to do some writing but then Ewan said “Let’s drive down to the hatchery, put the headlights on the water, and catch some squid!” I said “Yeh, let’s do that!” Then Richard said “Ok, let’s do it!” Then we sat motionless for a minute, no one spoke. Then I said, “Well, let’s go then!” and Ewan said, “Ok let’s go!” then Richard said “I’ll go, but I have to brush my teeth.” No one said anything for a while or moved, then my head nodded forward, I crawled into bed and dreamed that huge squid were jumping into the car.

 

Day 10

Thurs, 6/10/11
Beagle Bay.

At 5am I woke the guys up to come fishing. Unfortunately, the fish in my dreams remained there and we came home and ate porridge instead.

Leaving One Arm Point was a bit emotional, it has only been four days but we have made some great friends and some especially strong connections. I was presented with a beautiful Turtle shell by one of the guys and Cris the CEO of the community presented us with a hard cover book about the community, written by the kids and published by the school. She was quite teary as she sung our praises and we were all a bit lost for words. Apparently the Elders had informed her that the Desert Feet Tour was welcome any time, and I always say a return invitation is the best sign of success. A few of the teenage girls had taken a real shine to Asha, she seemed to hit it off, especially with one young girl called Bonny. Candice had spent every spare second over the last two days recording a song with one of the students, Breanna. We left Cris with a CD full of songs the kids had written and we had recorded, and about 4 Gig of photos. Richard had pretty much left his camera with some of the kids for days on end and they had snapped some absolute gems, especially the stuff jumping off the rock at Round Stone. The only other thing to report  is the mysterious reappearance of Emily. This morning during our departure ceremonies, she just walked into the camp like a resurrected ghost. Her absence has been a handicap on every level for all of us. We have had to rearrange the music we played at the concerts, set up and pack down shorthanded and run the workshops without her familiar input. Not to mention the strangeness of her absence, and the concern we have all had for her. After the nurse at the clinic had diagnosed her with a virus, I was preparing myself mentally to send her home with Helen and Asha. If it was anything like the one I’d just got over, she would be bedridden for a week and ill for months. I have had 4 lots of antibiotics and only just recovered from bronchitis. But alas, I have never seen anyone fall so sick, so suddenly and absolutely, then recover so instantaneously?! She slept continuously for 3 days and 3 nights then emerged this morning as if she had never been gone. Her quiet manner, oblivious of the miraculous resurrection she had surprised us with, with blasé indifference she only replied to all our enquires in her calm, unexcited, low monotone that she “felt fine”. I don’t think any of us quite believed her at first. It wasn’t till later that I remembered the healing session that Bruce Wigger had performed on her?! I’m not implying anything..............I’m just saying, is all. You can make your own mind up.

 

However, Emily was not to be entirely free of pain, within an hour of leaving One Arm Point a phone call came from Perth, but this pain was not a virus or a bruise it was worse, it was the call no one wants to get. The call that says one of your family is sick, and so Emily’s time on the tour once again seemed in jeopardy as she considered the situation. Helen was a big support and I don’t think Emily would mind me saying but she would have been lost without her this last week.

 

But for now we had to concentrate on the task at hand. Our rendezvous at Beagle Bay, an impromptu arrangement organised by Ewan, looked interesting. Thee ‘Kerri-Anne Cox’, had invited the DFT to perform at her inaugural launch of the Beagle Bay Chronicles. An event she had managed to attract much attention to. NITV were there to film it, and everyone from miles around, was there to see it.

Kerri-Anne Cox is a legend in these parts. The Cox family are massive in the Kimberley. The first son of the Welsh drover who married a full blood Aboriginal lady, was Kerri-Anne’s Great Grandfather. He died recently, but was the very Senior men for the Nyul Nyul people and well respected right across these lands.

Kerri-Anne has eyes that pinch a nerve in your spine, they are beautiful but full of fire, the most remarkable colour, like a hazel ember, like Tigerseye-stone in a furnace. She is both charismatic and enchanting, and once she speaks, you are transfixed. What transpires is the transferral of a profound realisation, “This is a women that will change the world” and all who spoke with her unanimously concurred. The realisation is borne on the strength of the fact that next month she will state her case before the Queen of England, her people’s right to sovereignty and a release from colonial repression. Treaty?! Kerri-Anne Cox, it seems, has done some serious research. Keep an eye out for this little bomb shell. Any Bills at parliament for compulsory Indigenous History in schools, or political movements that finally create a Treaty, might very well have her name written all over it.

  

The event was the culmination of 3 years of planning and incorporated a Melbourne Youth Theatre group who had travelled all the way over to stage and perform at the event, an eclectic group of thespians, is not what one would expect to find in a remote community, but none the less, so it was. ‘The Chronicles’ so named by Kerri-Anne, documented the first contact with missionaries in the peninsular, and was a artistic mixture of recorded dialogue of the Elders’ personal accounts, Kerri-Anne Cox’s original songs, and the dramatic re-enactment of the religious conversion of the local Indigenous people, by the God-fearing monks. It was performed by a mixture of Asian, Aboriginal and Caucasians actors. After this, we performed a full concert and hosted 3 of the local bands. One of which, ‘The Beagle Bay Band’ featured none other than Francis Cox the legendary country singer of his day. Meeting him was like meeting Royalty and I would never have known who he was if it hadn’t been for the conversation that sprung up over his guitar which he opened in front of me like a Christmas gift! It was a wood finished Telecaster and obviously very old! When I began to drool he proudly lifted his prize into my hands to ease my obvious guitar envy, enjoying my palpable appreciation and with a smile, he informed me that it was an original ’82 Fender and he had had it since new, that guitar was worth well of $20,000 and we both knew it. Watching him play it was even more rewarding, with that Tele in his hand, there was no tomorrow and Frances reminisced us with the spiritual union of a man lost in the moment. In his heyday he preformed all over the world and alongside the greats of County Rock like Willy Nelson and Cash.

The community had been out hunting for the occasion and so we were treated to a massive traditional smorgasbord of turtle, dugong and mud crabs. Two huge barra’ came out of the fire wrapped in alfoil of which I eat a whole wing and other than a few fellows that had had a bit too much to drink, the night was an awesome experience. Unfortunately Ewan copped the brunt of the bad behaviour being out front of the stage all night and so his role as sound guy double as diplomatic domestic disruption avoidance councillor too. The poor guy was exhausted by the nights end and after a full pull down to boot he was looking a bit worse for wear.

 

Day 11

Friday, 7/10/11
Leaving Beagle Bay.

Ewan was not able to be roused for an early morning fishing trip this morning so I took the girls out to Middle Lagoon for a looksee at 6 am instead. The beach was beautiful and worth the off road trip, However it was full of tourist. It’s sort of wired but once you spend time in remote community’s with the mob one can feel a little protective?! And seeing a bunch of sunburnt tourists in their flash Landcruisers is almost repulsive. Feeling a little superior, as if we are locals not tourists, is an irony of the highest order, yet I must admit a tinge of judgement crept upon me. However that is ridiculous because this lagoon is managed by the local community that have made a great location for tourism by creating little open chalet’s on the beach front. It is a beautiful location and worth visiting, the mere $8 a  night goes to running the generator and fuel for the school bus of the resident community.

 

The workshops today were the most fun I have ever had. As school is out, we had no teachers to assist us, so it was a bit of an unknown quantity. I drove around the block a few times and told any kids I saw to come down to the basketball court if they wanted to learn music or do some song writing. By the time I got back, several kids had arrived and several more had jumped in the car. I feel a bit conspicuous in this Prado, I don’t like driving round in a flash new car its sort of a bit arrogant and insensitive in a remote and overcrowded Indigenous community where services are limited and commodities are in demand. I think communities have just had enough of Whities showing up in their big expensive cars telling them how they should live, and this thing is a mine spec’ vehicle too, so I must look like a mining company official or something. However, kids don’t see disparity, nor is their happiness contingent on their conditions. One can only describe it as a child like state, because that’s what it is. That is why working with kids is empowering, it’s the indestructibility of the human spirit that is so obvious and always a reminder that we all had and have that quality, it’s a reminder for me that I can be happy with what I have if I focus on the present, not caught in the suffering of need. In this, service is its own reward, the greatest reward, it’s a freedom really. However, It’s a fine line between support and intervention, and it is a question I must always ask of myself. I’m a guest here, a student. I have come here to learn and I am only allowed to offer what I am asked for, any more than that would be patronising. I think that is the difference between good intentions, which can have bad outcomes, and good results which requires acceptance not knowledge. 

I was a bit worried how the kids would behave with no teachers or community members present, but it was really relaxed, having Helen and Asha helps too, with their motherly strength and all. I really wanted some outcomes from the workshops that the girls could take home with them, as this was their last day. I wanted the best outcomes I could get for their efforts, and so I hope I haven’t pushed the crew to hard. I know I felt it last night, I had to push myself, doing a set up, concert and pull down in the same night, its hard yakka for anyone. Performing is emotionally draining, setting up is physically hard, the combination is exhausting. It takes a special type of person to be out here, and I am encouraged by the calibre of these guys. Both Ewan and Richard are people that could name their own price in the corporate world. They are both highly intelligent and well educated men, I am, in fact the least qualified of the lot, and funnily enough the least musically talented, too. I am very grateful for their dedication, I can tell you now they are not doing it for the money.

Bryte killed it as usual, his workshop never fails but the interesting occurrence was Richard, conjuring up a little workshop on the spot. After we had made a Healthy Lyric Song and recorded it, he took the lead and started doing demos with all the “other” instruments. Soon he had an orchestra of students playing the percussion, ukulele and harmonica. I sat with the kids and just laced up some of the football boots we had given out, and so I watched Richard,  Candice and Emily get creative and spontaneous. It was a great change and really worked well, but overall it showed the diversity of outcomes available and the value of spontaneity. Some good ideas came out of it for future workshops too and Richard suggested he could run workshops on the ukulele and harmonica, instruments that we could buy cheaply, and supply to each of the kids so they all got left with an instrument and some material to develop on it. It’s an idea we are keen to develop, and we’ll have to see if we can source a bulk order of the instruments. ukuleles would be ideal because they are basically a small guitar; the chords can be transposed and it can be a introduction to guitar playing. Blues harps would be great too, because most of the community’s bands construct their song structure around the 12 bar blues, it’s an instrument that doesn’t go out of tune, and it can be bought pretty cheaply.

 

One of the mothers came down to the basketball court to pick up her kids for a fishing trip, and so the workshop came to an end. Helen and Asha had to head back to Broome early to meet with the Health Services and so our first leg of the tour was coming to a close. It has been 2 years since we visited the Cape because of funding shortages, and it’s the first time we have visited outside of school term, so it was great to build that rapport with the community and council members instead of the teachers, which can be more transient. As soon as the girls left, a sense of loss hit us all, I’m not sure if I’m a bit biased because my own mother was a nurse, but I have never met a nurse I didn’t like. I once saw a sticker that said, “nurses make the world better” and that’s a fact. There was always something comforting about having a nurse/mother, sort of like double the maternal security. Helen has been no exception to the rule. Nurses are built to care and Helen has “I care” written in her eyes. The reason she is so senior in her position, is because she deserves it. She has a strength of character made impressive by her intelligence. I can’t help feeling like she brought a maternal quality to this trip that I didn’t know we didn’t have till she was here. But now that it’s gone, I miss it. She had never been on tour with us before, but she was an instantly the missing matriarch we never had. In hindsight, I realised that it’s the first time in 4 years I have had another organisation invest their personnel into our project, her input had created a sense of shared responsibility that gave me immeasurable support.

In four years of running this project, I have had all sorts of promises thrown at me, for funding, for support and of course those interested in coming along. However not much of it ever eventuates. Everything that Helen and I discussed, at the first meeting over 6 months ago, she has made happen. In fact, I would go as far as to say that I don’t think we would be on this tour without Diabetes WA. They helped us write the grant, they supplied all the merch’, they contributed to the funding and they paid their own way. It’s just been such a pleasure and a privilege. We were not scheduled to be back in Broome tonight, we had the option of staying out bush and some invitations to go hunting that afternoon, but knowing that the girls had the night in Broome and wanting to give the guys a night off in town with a hot shower and a cooked meal seemed like a good option. It meant we could go out for a farewell dinner, do some much needed washing and maybe catch up on some rest.

 

Our farewell dinner was a celebration of friendships. It was the night when everyone realised that we had shared something together that gives an unspeakable quality of understanding to a relationship. One that can’t be found in an office, one that can’t be arranged or planned. It’s the sort of feeling you have when you know that your life has just changed a bit. That your course has altered slightly, like you just had another piece of the jigsaw popped into place. In a world that often seems to make no sense, there’s a sense of relief in a realization that overrides intellect and can’t be intellectualised, because its prior to all those faculties. It’s a direct injection of intuition on a vertical line. That’s how I feel about Diabetes WA. It was just there waiting to be awakened, and it messengers were two of the finest people I have met. I don’t know how I did it without them and I almost don’t want to do it without them now, such is my grief at their departure. Our last supper was a relaxed night of honest conversation. The type you have when you realise you really trust someone. (thank you Ross M)

 

Day 12

Saturday, 8/10/11
Jarlmadangah.

As we drive out of Broome and into the second leg of our journey, I reflect on the trials ahead. The next week will be spent in the Fitzroy River Valley, the edge of the Gibson Desert and out of range of mobile and internet. The Valley is a predator that can swallow you whole, without a trace, or nurture you in her bosom of eternity, it can be the mother of awakening or the father of harsh discipline. It is a land that is older than time, it transforms lives, it holds secrets more valuable than gems and is the home to the greatest jewel of all, an ancient and profoundly beautiful people.

 

Day 13
Sunday, 9/10/11
Jarlmadangah.
Late Saturday afternoon found us in Jarlmadangah. However, we didn’t find much of anything else! The community was virtually empty. A huge sports carnival and music festival in Fitzroy had robbed us of any musicians we hoped to find, the school holidays stole all 30 odd kids that live here, and we arrived a bit late to advertise it at the nearest community, which is Looma. However this cloud of discouragement had a silver lining better than anything one might have hoped for! We spent the night, at the invitation of John Watson, sitting around the campfire, singing songs and eating spare ribs. If you read The Australian on Saturday the 1st of October, then on the front page you would have seen John Watson too! Published author, ex stockman, ringer, drover. He is a protester, activist, survivor of displacement/genocide and slave labour. A gentleman and a scholar but most importantly, an Elder. He is, The Elder. John Watson is probably the most senior law man in the Kimberley. He picketed alongside Rob Riley at Nookanbah in the 80’s, and he is the founder of Jarlmadangah Burru, a little utopia that he built for his people in a stunning part of the Valley, surrounded by high ridges and rivers. In beauty, it is richer than King Solomon. Jarlmadangah is a hub of cultural retention, the local school practices culture every Friday, under his care.
John is 71 now but fit as a fiddle. He eats only fish that he catches and vegetables he grows, and so he is in good nick. But he recalls his past with a heavy breath and long pauses, as if the time between sentences is to recover from the recall of such memories. All that sit before him listen with absolute attention, mouths wide open as if each word was a tender morsel to a starving man. For the likes of us, who starve for culture and connection like John Watson has in spades, it was a meal fit for a King, and any time one spends with John will be time you can value for life.
 
We started the day at 5am with a hike up some of the local ranges. The landscape here is flat shrub and sparse growth, lined by long ridges. The ridges are of a sedimentary rock, stacked in flaky shards that break away at every touch. Here and there, the skyline is breached by corkscrew hills, that look like they have been wound out of the earth by mysterious beings. Perfectly cone shaped, with a ridge that almost looks like a road spiralling around the circumference until it reaches the peak. They are a remarkable visual experience and one can understand the Dreaming that this sort of territory must have invoked.
 
From the top of the ridge the world was endless, a sea of red land with oil colours posing as Spinifex grass. The view was surreal, like a painting that looked life like. You wanted to reach out and touch the textile surface of the canvas before you, look for the artists name in the bottom right hand corner, ask the attendant “How much?” but only silence replies. A million year echo of emptiness, vast emptiness; then you know, you’re alive.
 
Later, we drove into Looma to try to drum up some interest for the concert tonight, but the place was mysteriously deserted too. We had been told not to take the first turn left up to New Looma and so we drove around old Looma several times to no avail. We were just about to leave when we found some kids who told us everyone was at the crossing. At the crossing, we found no one either, but the shade was tempting and the heat soaring. On the grassy banks we caught some small bait fish we used to entice a Barra onto a hook, but it seems they had the upper hand on us today because although we saw some and got a few big bites, they managed to keep their skin on their bones, for now anyway. However, Ewan caught a good sized Cherabin and we contemplated a return trip at night to find more of the same.
 
We stopped in at Camballin on the way back but the same story availed, everyone away for the school holidays, no one in town anywhere to be seen. We decided to make one last effort at Looma and this time we found a bunch of young guys wearing 2 Pac shirts that looked like they could be enticed into a free barbie and some ‘fresh’ rap tunes. They informed us that everyone was  at the crossing still and this time they took us.
 
The following account is amongst the strangest experiences I have ever had. Directed up an inconspicuous track by our new found guides, the bush opened onto a sandy bank and a large clearing, in which a gathering had formed of about a hundred people. By the water, a large congregation made loud celebrative noises which at first, I assumed to be a swimming party, but was soon corrected as to its purpose. Apparently, we had stumbled upon some sort of baptism event. I was approached by several people to whom I explained our purpose; repeating our names and what we do, inviting them to a concert tonight at Jarlmadangah, but each time I was referred to someone else, who then listened all over again, and called for the next person. I felt like a Chinese whispers version of pass-the-parcel. Eventually, I had quite a large audience. Some discussion broke out in language around me, various affirmations, contemplations and delegations seemed to be underway around the group, and then into the clearing appeared a tall white guy. He wore a huge white cowboy hat, bigger than mine, which bore the symbol of small horse shoe. Etched with a pattern and laying on its side like a C, it looked like it had been branded into the hat with precision. His appearance so surprised me that I was a bit lost for words, but his next sentence caught me off guard completely, “We are a bunch of god-fearing, faithful and dedicated, worshipping Christians, and we don’t listen to the Devil’s music. Unless you sing the praise of our Lord, we are not interested.” There was a deadly silence, every eye was upon me, I looked from face to face. The group from Looma stood around us in every direction, I noticed some of the young men had hats on too with the same sideways horseshoe branded into the rabbit fur felt. I realised I was being challenged by the white cowboy. Called out. It was as if I saw myself from a distance, like in a dream or an old black and white movie, it was a standoff, the white hat versus the black hat. It was my move, would I pull the six gun of rebellion and challenge his words, “So you speak for all these people, do you?” or “Would you have one belief die to keep another?” Suddenly, I felt alone, was I the bad guy? My heart dropped, his white hat glowed with purity, my black hat a reflection of my heart. I said the only thing that came to my mind, “Well, maybe you want to get up and play then?” He took a step forward and went for his gun of religious fury, I stepped forward too, my pistol of indignation fully loaded. The faithful white hat would fight for righteousness, the black hat for the right to be different. A black hand appeared in front of my face, it was connected to a tall African who stepped into the space between us. His eyes were soft and his hand fell upon my arm and pulled my hand into his, and with both he shook my hand in the warmest manner. I knew that this was a man that could not be roused. He introduced himself in his full Zimbabwe name, like a diplomat with a long title or a tribal chief, but the words made almost no sense and I could not repeat a single syllable. Seeing my consternation he said simply, “Call me Father Anthony.” His accent incorporated a series of pops and clicks, like a Kalahari Bushman, which was quite mesmerising, and his whole countenance was calming. He explained to me that this was his last night before he continued his travels, and that he had a heavy schedule of ministry prior. Apparently, we were welcome to stay, and so it seemed we had a choice, get baptised and eat at the feast, or leave.
 
We arrived back at Jarlmadangah with our sins intact, and discussed our options with John Watson. There was still only 5 people in the community, and we could safely assume that no one was coming from Looma. He suggested that we do what we had done last night, and he offered to put some fish on the table too. John had been out hunting and had a couple of the fattest looking cat fish I have ever seen. That night we did a little concert for them around the camp fire, and we ate spare ribs and fish from the hot coals under an open sky. The moon threatened to end the night, the fire danced an ancient jig, and everything under Gods heaven was......... as it should be.

Day 14
Monday, 10/10/11
Wangkatjungka , The Edge of the Desert
It was with great regret that we left Jarlmadangah. It’s really is a little utopia. We have made a promise to John to return when all the kids are back, and so we have rearranged the schedule a bit in order to come back here after Noonkanbah. The last few days had been a great experience, and meeting John Watson has been a highlight of the tour for me. He has commissioned me to write him a song, and so the challenge is on before we return.
 
In the meantime, we are scheduled to perform at Wangkatjungka tonight; we are all very excited about it, because it was the very first remote community we ever visited in ‘08. The community is really keen for us to come back, and support has been overwhelming. We drove into Fitzroy and fuelled up. The remnants of the huge festival/carnival here, The Garnduwa Festival, ended today and has turned sleepy old Fitzroy Crossing into a hive of activity. I needed to do some banking and send some emails, so we pulled into the Fitzroy River Lodge for lunch, where our long term friend, tour advisor for this area, and well regarded Musician, Patrick Davies, joined us.
Our time was short as Wangkatjungka was expecting us tonight, however, upon arriving late in the afternoon we found the same situation as Jarlmadangah, several of the local musicians had not returned from the Garnduwa Festival, nor had many of the residents. The community bus was doing a run back to Fitzroy in the morning to collect people, and I offered the services of the Prado to help. In the meantime I was directed to DJs house who is the bass player for the Dry Metal Band, who lived up at Ngumpan about 20km back towards the main road. Ngumpan is also the site of the living water, a series of springs that keep full all year round. Two of the girls that remembered us from last year, Breanna and Shannon, jumped in the car to come for a swim and show us where DJ lived. At Ngumpan, DJ was excited to see us, and when I told him that this year we had the equipment to record his band, and if they played we would mix a CD down for them, his eyes lit up. With his help, I was now confident we could find the rest of the boys tomorrow, I was looking forward to the concert.
 
 
Day 15
Tuesday 11/10/11
Wangkatjungka
In the morning Emily and I took the Prado back into town. It would be a good chance to make a few calls while we waited at the BP, the designated meeting spot for our contingent of passengers. But DJ showed up first with Steve and Jamieson, the Dry Metal band boys, Word had spreads quick. The five of us piled into the Prado to find the last member of the band, the lead singer, Effron, and thus began a hilarious episode of exploration through downtown Fitzroy Crossing. They checked in several of the community housing estates first, all to no avail, then under some trees, there a few people had seen him, and so the trail grew hotter. Em and I taxied the boys in and out of various driveways, performed much honking of horns, and waited by the roadside, while the boys took directions to the next place. So in this manner, I was introduced to most of the Fitzroy locals in search of the elusive lead singer. Finally, a series of finger pointing, waving and calling out from the window, led us to a little shaded area where several ladies sat under a large bush out front an old house. Much commotion erupted and discussion took place in language. It seems we had discovered Effron’s sister and so were very close, in fact his clothes where in the house next door. The boys urged me out of the car indicating with sign language that I needed to come over. When I approached the group of ladies, I discovered that one of them was none other than Olive Knight. She was very happy to see us and remembered us fondly from our previous three tours. I made a joke about the Desert Feet Tour being the inspiration for her new found talents, but the truth is, she has been singing since she was in a Mission House choir as a child. At 60 plus, Olive Knight is my hero. After living in relative obscurity in a remote community for 40 years, she picked up a guitar and started to sing the blues. Writing a collection of gospel style originals, she had them recorded by ‘Mood of the Blues’ producer Ivan in March this year. Fast forward to 6 months later, and Olive is now an international celebrity!?
Her success is a victory on so many levels, but most inspirational of all, is it has not changed how she lives or who she is. Next week, this little, humble, elderly lady will do 3 months straight under the big lights on Broadway, singing a duet with Hugh Jackman, today she is sleeping on a swag in downtown Fitzroy. This Broadway star needs no dressing room with mirrored lights, no air-conditioned self contained caravan to tow her around, “I’m just going to Broadway, I guess” she explained in the most natural unassuming manner. She reminded me of Ruby Hunter with her deep, deep brown eyes and beautiful pitch black, dark, dark face, from a half century of full desert sun. Her kind features  a reservoir of character and wisdom, lined with acceptance and humility. Most people that had lived her life would be bitter or defeated, could be forgiven for being withdrawn or broken, but Olive is full of love and forgiveness. She gave me a warm hug and promised to make every effort to come out to Wangkatjungka tonight to play a few songs for her countrymen, that being her home and all. “I’ll see if I can get a lift out there, Damien” she called out as we left.
 
So now we had Effron’s clothes but no Effron. At the next house an old lady watering her red dirt yard looked at our car with suspicion, and directed us to another house. Confident of having cornered their target, DJ, Jamieson and Steve ran into the house. They emerged with the evasive lead singer in tow, all talking to him at once, encouraging him to get in the car and come back to the community for a concert in which their band would be recorded live. And so it was that Emily and I were now the most qualified taxi drivers of Fitzroy Crossing.
 
(Don’t read this paragraph  unless you are interested in Australian history and have thick skin)

Wangkatjungka is only about 2 hours west of Fitzroy Crossing, along the Great Northern Hwy, then 20 minutes off road, heading south into the Valley. It is not as remote as some of the communities we visit but is still remote in the sense that it has no mobile or internet range and it is too far to get to without a four wheel drive, and so the population live in relative isolation. In some ways this is probably better for the community as it prevents the likelihood of liquor or other drugs getting out there, and thus Wangkatjungka is a dry community by law and by agreement. The elders are still strong and can enforce the law, their law, which is always a better goverance. This part of the Kimberley’s is commonly referred to as ‘the edge of the desert’, but parts of the Valley are quite rich and fertile. The wide open plains and the lack of much else opened the area to pastoralisation very early in West Australian settlement. The elements that the settlers endured do inspire the imagination and many a good yarn, has been made a novel. However, it has left both a heavy mark on the earth, and irreparable damage to the First Australians that had used these fertile lands to hunt, live, and farm for thousands of years in absolute ecological balance.
As Crown Land was offered to those willing to endure the heat and pioneer the untamed west, outstations appeared on the deserts edge near waterholes, and cattle routes were opened by determined drovers, lead by indigenous guides. The resulting displacement of the indigenous population thus occurred. As the government had given out the land, they needed to respond in kind to the problems that dual occupation created. Pastoralists had their own measures to lesser or greater extents, but needless to say, many tribes in these fertile valley areas became extinct, and many, especially during the pearling boom of the late 19th century, became slaves. The government used its power and knowledge to ‘break the culture’ by deporting Law Men and Elders to Rottnest Island, and forbidding the use of language or ceremony to all and any, on pain of imprisonment. It was a kneejerk reaction to what it saw as a temporary problem. After all the “Aboriginals would soon die off” (Immigration Restriction Act 1901). The above mentioned Bill was one of the first passed by the United Colony’s which became Australia. This act would later morph into and include acts of Parliament like The Assimilation Policy (The Stolen Generation) and the White Australia Policy, not vanquished until 1967!! The Indigenous people having knowledge of country, and being able to survive on very little, made ideal drovers, ringers and station hands, and the pastoralists formed a symbiotic relationship with displaced Indigenous families. The men and women worked on the camps and the families could live on the pastoral lease. Of course, the Indigenous people were not entitled to a wage! Thus, the Stolen Wages Generation was created, those like  our friend, John Watson were so employed, in what was basically slave labour. The Government, realising its mistake, took corrective action by creating “fair pay” for all workers, but by this time the pastoralists and the Indigenous people had settled into a type of unwritten and mutual benefiting agreement, to a lesser or greater degrees, varying between stations. The new Bill meant station owners could not afford to (or did not want to) employ all the families (or what the Government now saw as workers) that lived on the land, and thus they became displaced once again. The solution to the resulting homelessness, was another kneejerk reaction; communities.
Thus, the birth of communities like Wangkatjungka came into place. Wangkatjungka is a language group, not really a place. The Wangkatjungka skin group is not even from here, they are from the Western Desert, south of Telfer, recruited and transported as station hands from the desert. If you are thinking it is a victory for Indigenous rights, that they have a community to call their own, think again. They do not own this land, it is a government lease for 99 years. It is a dry and poor little portion of useless land, partitioned out of the surrounding rich valleys and pastoral leases. It was, and is, an ‘under the carpet’ solution to a huge mistake that as yet, has not been rectified.
 
In the afternoon the boys took us hunting near some ranges. Steve is a young man with a charismatic nature. He is a musician, a council member a staff member at the local school and a role model for the children. He is an educated man, but has done the hard Law too. However his intelligence is a bane, and his conflict between what he knows, is at war with what he knows once was. He works every day in the office and the school with non-Indigenous people, he is reconciled to the facts, however there is a pain in him that cries a silent river.

He explained to us how these ridges formed, 350 million years ago, the Devonian Reef holds fossils and mysteries that unlock the past and all this land was then under water. With ease he articulated how his dreaming explained the formation long before science existed. He expounded the similarities between law and evolution like a college professor. He pointed out the mudlark nest dreaming, and followed the song lines with his fingers across the vast ranges to our left. Ewan, Emily and I held our breath to hear his words over the purr of the engine and the crunching of Spinifex grass, as he guided us through the open plains with casual indifference, fearless of the country and sure of its every undulation. The massive range, like in a prehistoric movie, running against the screen of a bleached blue sky. Still, ancient, watching and waiting; a silent tower of infinite knowledge. We could feel the life he spoke of in them, that breathed us out into existence.
 
Communities are not a solution, the people still live in envy of their own land. Devoid of the right to hunt upon it, burn off, or even drive across some of it. Charged as burglars if they are caught behind a locked gate, and arson if they burn off. Steve must watch powerless, as thousands of cattle roam free in every direction around him, they trample the growth, foul the waterholes, and erode the soil which then blows away. They destroy the country under his nose and then the owners accuse him of being a nuisance?!
Prohibited from ancient cultural and environmental practice of burning off, under threat of tough arson laws, while all around him pastoralists leave their heavy and destructive ecological footprint with impunity. Do we think that the Steve’s of our modern world, educated under a western ideology, might not see the disparities. Pastoral lease and farming are more detrimental to the environment than mining, you don’t need to be a educated man to know that. We would have Steve conform to our ways, yet turn a blind eye on our folly. We are happy to worship a pagan god, a crucified man in agony on a cross, yet we would prevent him believing in Sprit Beings? Why are we so foolish? What have we lost that has made us so ignorant? Is it too late for us to change?
 
After the concert that night, the boys came back to our camp to listen to the rough recording of the live tracks, as yet unedited or mastered. Their approval was evident and Ewan’s obvious enjoyment of his contribution, was a lump sum payment into the bank of happiness. However, his workload would now increase tenfold as he will continue on with his usual roles plus find time to mix down the tracks into an audible CD over the next 24 hours before we leave. The Dry Metal Band’s anticipation was almost tangible and I can’t help but feel proud to be a part of this . I know, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that these five guys will be our friends forever, and any mention of the DFT to any of their friends or family will be received with utmost welcome. We are building a thing of great value out here, a relationship worth far more than the funding that enables it.
 
It was with great relish that we hit the swags tonight. It’s the first camp we have had with no beds, so we have had to use our own sleeping gear. I had forgotten how hilarious Richards travel bedding is, and we had a good laugh when he blew up his hiking mattress. He is the tallest one in the group and he has the smallest bed. With him laying on it, his legs overhang about three foot. I told him it looks more like an esky lid than a mattress, and Emily called it the ‘Boogie Board Bed’, but he retained his pride by expounding the virtues of economy to weight ratio, which I pointed out is counteracted by the giant bag of electrical equipment he lugs around everywhere. Never-the-less, he assures us that it is most comfortable and he sleeps very well on it.
 
Day 16
Wednesday 12/10/11
Wangkatjungka
Last night I fell asleep to the sound of Richard swatting flies with a tea towel, the occasional crash as a misdirected or overenthusiastic swing took out a cup or someone’s loose equipment. This morning I walked back into to the house after having a shower at 630am, and there was Richard in his underwear swatting flies with a tea towel again.
I was too tired to say anything but when he spoke I realised he might be sleep swatting. I passed him in the hall and he grumbled in a low voice that the door was open again, then went back to bed on his little boogie board mattress and started to snore. With all the flies around, one would might hope you sleep with your mouth closed.
 
Today we rounded up as many kids up as we could find and did a couple of hours of workshops in the back room of our accommodation. We could not use the hall because the Land Council was having an AGM. I got to look in on it a few times, it was really interesting and there was many very senior Elders that had come from hundreds of miles around to negotiate with a mining company that is looking for access to some native title. Beautiful old silver haired men with their dusty cowboy hats and women with their 1960s style frocks, sitting with their legs beside them under the shade of the few Spartan tress’, sweeping the dry, dusty, red dirt with their calloused old hands. The few of them I met could speak almost no English. Translators mapped out ideas on huge whiteboard in story pictures. What a wealth of knowledge was gathered here; the stories of legends, the forming of the Northwest, the coming of the white man, the old world colliding with the new, the days of drovers and hardship, and the Dreaming, would all be a dinner time story in any one of these peoples house. I would have given my right arm to have sat in or filmed it, but we had promised the kids we would record some songs and by then we had quite a gathering at our quarters.
 
By midday, the thermometer was still heading north of 40 degrees and it was becoming impossible to even move. We all jumped in the Prado, as that is the coolest place we have, hung towels over the windows and went looking for a spring one of the boys had told us about on the way back from Fitzroy yesterday. A small track back off the main road opened into a tiny green oasis. At first the smell was a bit overpowering, the earth here is discharging some sort of calcium sulphate that has dried to form a white vein of smooth rocks. However, the spring itself was an oasis in the highest sense the word, crystal clear and deep. Small fish glimmered in the shards of light that pierced the pool through the overhanging Ghost Gums and Paperbark’s above. Protecting the spring from the treacherous sun outside. In the middle, a fallen trunk formed a mossy bridge just out of the water and all the elements that adorned the miniature haven, betrayed and defied the deadly and dry landscape in every direction. Here, at the edge of the desert, we had found a slice of  heaven. Something so simple seemed so glorious. The coolness of the water, a reprieve. The protection of the flora, an organic roof. And in its glory, we were as we were born to be, free and absent of worry. In that childlike state, intoxicated by the beauty and lost to ourselves, time stopped.  A small rocky outcrop about ten foot high made the perfect launching point, and the depth of the spring gave us hours of enjoyment. Jumping from the rocks and tree branches like kids on a play set, the DFT crew let their inner children go free.
 
Back at the camp, we prepared for another big night of music. I bought every sausage the store owned for the BBQ, and we were just about to head over and get ready when DJ and Lloyd showed up with a rifle asking if we would drive them out to get a Roo for the BBQ tonight. It was an invitation we could not resist and we knew bush tucker would bring more people to the concert so we all spilled into the Prado again. It looked like tonight’s concert might be a bit late!? It’s not so much the hunting I like, I could take it or leave it. Personally, I won’t fire a gun unless I absolutely have to. For me, it’s more about being on country with the guys; the way they talk to you when they are out there, the explanations and stories change with each area. Their knowledge of the country is impressive and I always make sure I take a pen now, I learn so much about culture and language. DJ gave us a lesson in language groups. His skin group, he explained, is Wangkatjungka, however, most of the people here are either Wangkatjungka or Walmajarri, which as mentioned earlier, is not from here. However, DJ can speak Gooniarti and Bunoby, languages of the local river and salt water people, plus the local Creole. In all, he speaks four different languages including English and understands several other dialects from his area including Martu. Jammed into the back seat of an overcrowded car, off the track and bouncing over ant hills, in the fading light I took a class in Indigenous history language groups. I wrote it on a bit of paper in jarring, bumpy lines, which I now try to interpret back to you. I might have the spelling wrong for some of these language groups, but they are phonetically pretty close.
 
The only other thing to report is my most embarrassing incident with the community bus, which I managed to reverse into a street sign! What are the chances of that happening? I mean, it is the only street sign I have ever seen on a community, most of them don’t even have roads let alone street signs! Not only did I manage to back into it, I ran over it, bent the post and destroyed the back of the bus. I was so embarrassed that I felt like hiding under a rock. Some community worker I am, come out to a under resourced outpost where they are struggling to get funding for vehicles, and trash the local bus. Anyway, $500 later I had covered the excess, but not my pride, and so I went to bed feeling a little depressed.

Day 18

Thursday 13/10/11

Djugerari

I have been told that anyone can learn to sing, the throat is an instrument like any other and it can be trained. However it can be a bit like learning the violin, I guess there is a period of ambiguity that must require a certain faith or belief that at some point it will be better. Richard is the most talented musician I have ever met in my life. But even he will admit, he is no Tom Jones. However, you have to admire someone that just has a go at everything, and Richard is not one to let such a trivial fact prevent him writing or singing songs. He came up with the idea that we could do a workshop based on the concept that most songs can be played with 4 chords, to give kids an example of how simple music really is. He then proceeded to download, work out, write and learn the Four Chord Medley by Axis of Awesome. In this song, the artists perform about 30 different radio hits with the same 4 chords repeated over and over, played at different tempos and feels with the changing melodies and lines from each different song. If you have not seen the Youtube clip of this song, take a look. It is cool, however those guys can really sing. Richard has a incredible mind, able to grasp things out of most people’s ability, but learning this song became a sort of musical challenge or mild obsession for him and so the camp had to endure the repetitions of his practice several times last night at the quarters. The shear fact that he could even work it out was impressive however no one else could perform it, which meant that Richard was our Huckleberry. But when he got up at 5am this morning and started practicing it again, we had to draw the line. I thought he might be sleep practicing, but he informed me he just thought it was much later?! He is a one of a kind is our beloved Richard. He also doubles as a breakfast bell.

 

The old dirt track out to Djugerari was a red snake winding through the black ashes of a smouldering country. Distant fire crawled across the dry spinifex, fuelled by the suns intensity. Columns of smoke in the distance, contributed to a hazy canopy. The end of the dry season is a vast extreme of conditions about to collide. The build up cracks the sky in half with flashes of lightening while the bone dry land bursts into flames at the mention of fire. Dust devils form as a swirling updraft of black columns, dancing in the burnt ashes like the massive legs of Gods walking through the clouds, their vertical piers, reaching into the heavens of the sky above. Teasing us with the hope that one may come close enough for a good photo but they are like a timid animal hovering ever at our horizons.

 

We rolled into Djugerari in a cloud of dust. Tumbleweeds the size of cars bounced across the burnt and cindered plains in a scorching dry wind coming off the desert. The distant horizon was a melting inferno of shimmering heat, like the steam coming off a kettle. Djugerari is on high ground in a valley of open plains and the edge of our vision, looked like it danced to an invisible fire. The community was lifeless, every living thing intoxicated by the sleeping pill of heat. Except for six kids we found swimming in an old storage bin filled with water. They informed me they were the only kids on the community except one other, who was asleep. So it looked like the workshops here would be easy. 

We bumped into our quarters that looked out across the deserts edge towards the Millyit Range. Behind that ridge lies the Great Sandy Desert and rolling sand dunes. It was 42 degrees’ in the shade, I found Candice sitting on a bench with her head down, unable to move, or even talk. We were all a bit exhausted and dragging our feet with lethargic effort.

At about 4pm, I was roused by the noise at the door. The little posse of Djugerari kids had discovered us and pleaded with us to take them to the local dam. Dug into the barren countryside by the station owner, the dam's massive walls cut straight down into the earth, showing the layers of sedimentary soil; dark and clay like, thousands of years of flooding then drying out, making a layer cake richer than double chocolate. Situated in a low point of the basin, the dam held water all year, cool and deep. We sprung off the black overflow pipe like a diving board, the kids did back flips and bombies with practiced ease.

 

The concert tonight would be very small, but we had a big load of meat for the BBQ, fresh steak and bangers, a small host of very keen kids, and the Dry Metal Band arriving at some stage. It was just too hot to set up even in the afternoon sun and it was nearly 6pm before we could make the effort. But it seems that the best laid plans of men and mice, are often just a trivial price, for when I went to start the big White Rhino, she would not be moved. After some time in diagnosis, we established the problem to be at the starter motor. From where we worked, we could see the BBQ fire and the awaiting crowd under the lights at the basketball court. It was dark now, so we needed to just get the truck started then make a decision about what to do. Luckily, she had come to rest on a small hill, and with minimal effort we gave her a push in reverse and she jump-started into life with ease! Unfortunately, as all of us where pushing there was no one to take a photo, because I think that is by far the funniest thing I have seen, four out-of-towners trying to push start an 8ton truck! Djugerari must have been wondering what the cat dragged in?!

The crew are tired, the truck has mechanical problems, it's hot, and the community is mostly deserted. With the old girl running, I was loathed to turn it off again, and I suggested to the guys what seemed the most sensible thing to do, run the truck back into Fitzroy and have it waiting at the mechanics at daybreak, but Ewan, Em, and Richard felt certain we could start her again now we knew what the problem was, and insisted that we go on with the show! “The guys are coming all the way from Wangkatjungka” Ewan persisted, and so I was guided by the group conscience, impressed with their commitment and inspired by their determination. Tonight it was a small concert, but a big victory. It’s not just about playing music in the desert, sometimes the effort it takes to make it happen is a song in its self. It’s a song of true grit. It was a good call to go on with the show because no sooner had we set up than the Dry Metal Band rolled into town.

 

Ewan spent most of the night trying to get better takes of a few songs for them. I spent most of the night tinkering with the truck, Brian and Candice sat in the Prado with air-con running trying to breathe, and Emily and Richard cooked up a storm on a half 44 gallon drum over a stinking hot fire. By 11pm, I was almost falling over myself, and by the time we had packed up, there were some haggard looking faces. Then, when I backed the car into an ant hill, to complete my hat-trick of car wrecking for the Desert Feet Tour, I realised we all needed a few days off. We jump started the truck by towing her in reverse with the Prado, but it was too late and too dangerous to drive in to town now. With all the cattle on the road and the state of the track out here, it just didn’t make sense. I don’t even remember my head touching the pillow.

 

Day 19

Friday 14/10/11

Break down

At 6am we jump started the truck again and Em and I made an early dash back into Fitzroy Crossing, but my heart sank when the only mechanic in 500 kilometres told me he could not look at the truck 'til next week! In desperation, I offered him $500 cash above whatever he billed us, if he looked at it now. But he was an oak and not to be budged.

By 2pm I had taken the starter motor off and put it back on 3 times, cleaning the terminals, filing the brushes, re-assembling the spring loaded bushes several times all to no avail. I had a new solenoid on order from Hino spare parts in Perth, due to arrive at midday tomorrow. I was not convinced that was the issue, then, by accident, I shorted the positive terminal across the ignition line with ring spanner while tightening a bolt; the truck jolted into life! Turns out it's a wiring problem and worst case, I can jump start her with a piece of wire. I would wait for Richard to arrive with his multi meter and see if he could locate the electrical problem. The show would go on!

 

In the meantime, the guys had stayed back to run the workshops. A big ask, under manned and out of energy, and in the heat of the day. With no teachers to supervise and no adults to help, they did a great job to bring home the results. Workshop songs are a huge part of our reporting and important to our outcomes. So their determination once again, meant a hell of a lot to the overall result.

 

We checked into the Lodge. I had a look at the schedule and realised we are still on track. I could push Yakanarra back by a day, shorten Nookanbah by a day and still come out of the Valley from Jarlmadangah in time to drop Brian back in Broome on the 21st! So, seeing as we had come all the way back to town, I decided to give the team a much needed break, and take 2 days off. This meant that Brian would have his birthday in town, and so I had a very happy crew when I told them all at dinner that night! They deserve it, and are a great team.

 

Day 20

Saturday 15/10/11

Fitzroy Crossing

In the morning, Richard and I set out to work out this wiring problem, but the truck started first pop, and continue to start without fault again?! It’s the luck of the Irish?! Someone must have some Irish in them 'cause I don’t!

That left us with one other very important task to perform without delay; load the Prado up with fishing gear and head down the Fitzroy River for the afternoon, that elusive Desert Feet Barramundi is still waiting for me.

 

Day 21

Sunday 16/10/11

Day off

Brian's birthday today was appropriately timed with the big Wallabies vs NZ rugby game. While the crew celebrated with two good excuses, I took the chance to finish off the blog and upload the next instalment. My view out of the lodge window shows the build-up that keeps threatening the first rains, and by nightfall we had one of nature’s fireworks shows that makes Australia Day look like a waste of gunpowder.

This was spectacular, except it casts as certain dubious element upon the rest of our plans in the Valley. A good two hour downpour out here can turn a track to marsh. A good two days of downpour can cut you off for weeks. If the rain is inland, it will make the rivers run at astounding speed. You can cross a dry river bed on the way in, and find it a raging torrent on the way out, as we discovered last year in Nookanbah!

 

We will head back into the Valley now, without our much loved Candice. It with great regret that we dropped her at the bus early this morning, but unfortunately she has to start teaching again. We will see here again for the festivals at Tom Price and Paraburdoo at the end of October, however that does little to console us now, as Candice has been our cook as well as workshop facilitator. Without her, we will be terribly handicapped, we are running short handed as it is, and so I feel a tinge of concern as to how we will manage this next week of intense travel, concerts and workshops.

 

Day 22

Monday 17/10/11

Yakanarra

It's two years since we visited Yakanarra in a comedy of commotion under less than enviable circumstances. Patrick (our tour guide and fellow performer) had his car ‘borrowed’ from the service station just as we were about to leave! Instead of calling off the tour 'til his car reappeared, we had done what could only be described as a pursuit tour, and in this manner, Patrick and our convoy of vehicles followed his stolen Prado through the deserts edge, deep into the Fitzroy River Valley over tiny dirt tracks with no name.

Helen, the principal here, and all the teachers, remain the same. They all remembered us with fondness, despite the swift visit that ensued as a result of the urgency created by our dilemma. We had stayed only as long as it took to run the workshop.

This time however, I had time to go meet the Elder. The first question I always ask is, “Is it ok for us to stay here?” The next one is, “ Would it be OK to perform a concert for the community?” The third is, “When I recognise the Traditional Owners here, how should I acknowledge them? Most of the people here are Walmanjarri, and this community, like most in the Valley, is surrounded by some of the most fertile plains on Earth, along with the cattle they attract. Yakanarra is a sleepy community tucked away amongst the ridges of obscurity, and mostly forgotten by the world. Most people know about Nookanbah, and any Grey Nomad might know some of the colourful names signposted along the Highway, but Yakanarra is off the beaten track, an un-posted, forgotten world that most of Australia would never know even existed.

Even after all these years, I can’t prevent a touch of concern that precedes my arrival in a remote community. A little voice of self doubt that judges me like a QC on a bench. "What are you doing out here Damien?" "Do you have the right to come out here with your big ideas, and are they of any value anyway?"

But no matter where we go, it’s the same thing. Friendly faces greet us at the office, we are billeted and accommodated with generous enthusiasm, and every effort is made to contribute to the concert. Communities are always short of housing, overcrowded and poor, so showing up with 8 people and expecting to just have somewhere to stay is not as simple as it sounds. It usually means a lot of rearranging, and a lot of the time there is just none available, so we will swag it in a school classroom. Most communities will put food towards the BBQ, and even come down and cook it. Some will send guys out hunting, and there is always musicians. They are always keen to play, and there is never a moment to lose. I have had the same experience in lower economic areas all around the world. The less people have the more generous they seem to be. The truth is, communities like Yakanarra are living in third world conditions. Sometimes less than. But like every community I have visited, we are welcomed by the cries of happy kids and smiling locals. I have never had a greeting rebuffed or felt uncomfortable. Quite the contrary, I often feel overwhelmed by the fact that after 200 years of oppression, displacement, political mistreatment, and cultural ignorance, there is not a hard feeling out here, which only compounds my scene of injustice. Not only were the people out here mistreated, they were badly misjudged too. Two generations of men gave their lives to the Kimberley’s as Drovers and Cattlemen, mostly unrecognised, without thanks or reward, in an effort now forgotten. Australia was built on the backbone of its fruits. The evidence is a flourishing economy, which like the Pyramids of Egypt, it’s all that remains of the efforts of the nameless multitudes that made it happen.    

Yakanarra has a pretty strong Council and they have somehow raised the funds for a little telecentre. In this little transportable, plunked in the middle of a deserted field with a lonely power line running to its roof, I found Shannon. He, along with several kids, was checking their Facebook?! (That’s a first.) But he told us of a few acoustic songs he wanted to record, and had several mates that could play with him tonight too. I knew we would have a good turn out now, as word travels pretty fast in a remote community. I told him to spread the word that there would be a big BBQ with loads of free meat too. We are expecting the Bayulu Hillside Band to come, and the Dry Metal Band if they can make it. It would be a mini Indigenous festival if they all show up, and that could be really cool.

 

That night Shannon’s band stole the show before they even began, an eager audience of 30 or so kids sat pensively cross legged, jammed against the edge of the stage, necks straining upwards in anticipation. The boys had some really cool original songs which we recorded for them. Some of the lyrics where in English and I loved one song with the line “When the rain wakes up the country.” Very appropriate as the first of the Wet Season's rains threaten to come down.

 

We did a power pull-down tonight. The team is becoming so familiar with the process, that we had the truck in the driveway not more that 45 minutes after the lights went out. It was about 11:30 when we walked into the shack. It was about 11:35pm that a boom of thunder and a crack of lighting scared the dog under the bed, followed by a vicious downpour that lasted about half an hour! Hmm that makes things interesting. Last year, after about 2 days of rain, Helen spent four hours trying to make it out of here, just to make it Turkey Creek, then turned around and came home. No one could cross the Fitzroy and so she was stranded in the Community over the holidays. The road into Nookanbah is very old and hard, it would make more sense to push deeper into the Valley from here; get over the Fitzroy and into Nookanbah as soon as possible!

 

Day 23

Tuesday 18/10/11

Nookanbah

The leg between Yakanarra and Nookanbah is a mesmerising trip. Although the road was in bad condition, the slow pace was well appreciate to soak up the vast visual experience, and the Prado constantly overtook us and then fell back with Richards various photographic endeavours. To the south, a line of ridges followed us the whole trip, carved from the earth by Orion’s chisel, hammered into ridges by Thor’s Hammer, stacked like discarded dinner plates, uneven and high, defying gravity, oblivious of time, impervious to change, and guiding us up the valley. To our right, the lands grew denser with lush green foliage. The many arteries from the overlooking ridges flow into the great Fitzroy River somewhere to our North, her presence growing obvious by all nature of things that come here for the life her water brings. This Valley is alive.

Some parts of the road were lined by washouts deeper than a creek, some parts had washouts on both sides leaving a small ridge of road. I have never seen anything like it, and it's disconcerting to say the least. We made too many floodway crossings to count, and it is obvious how treacherous this road could be after the smallest of rains. On the high sections, the border of deep green trees to our right indicated the rivers closeness and as Nookanbah is right against the mighty Fitzroy River, once the road and River join we will be there.

 

Soon we were enshrined in the foliage. The sky above, and the suns intensity, washed out by the shady pastures, made cool grassy banks on the many little dry creeks that networked the undergrowth awaiting the next rains. A great variety of different plants and trees could survive here feeding on the ground water below. Then, after a large stretch of boggy river sand, cut deep with tyre tracks, it appeared. The Crossing itself was only just over knee deep and so our escape out of the Valley was pretty much assured. From here, we would continue west along the northern side of the Fitzroy River, across the barrage, through Camballin, and out to Mt Anderson Station, on which lies the sleepy community of Jarlmadangah Burru. Then we'll come out on Great Northern Highway around Saturday or Sunday, all thing being equal.

In the meantime, we return to Nookanbah with much anticipation. We have built up a great rapport with some of the communities we have been fortunate enough to keep revisiting. Nookanbah is one that we have not missed for 4 years. At the Crossing, we joined a bunch of kids swimming and found Fernie from Djugerari among them. I joked with him that every time we see him, he is in water! He was very proud to introduce us to the other kids.

 

At the community, I checked in with Dickie Cox first, the elder for the Nyikina language group. His welcoming smile creased a well weathered old face into shapes of happiness. His rusty legs hindered his procession to the door. Once a tall and powerful man, in an age of cattlemen and drovers. Dickie is now stooped and tired, he came to the door buttoning up brown cowboy shirt across his sinewy frame, smiling in a toothless grin, warm and quiet. Recently retired after 20 years of service as the Chairman for Yungngora Council, Dickie will see out the twilight of his years in peace on the community he helped to reclaim from the pastoralists, and forge into one of the first Aboriginal run and owned cattle stations. His generosity is ‘the shirt off ya back’ type, and at his command a few of the younger guys organised a hunting party to take out us out country to shoot some game for dinner. He lent Bubbly the gun, the car and the bullets, then sent him out with his nephew. I piled into the old Patrol with the boys, and the Prado followed at a distance with the rest of our crew. Bubbly (or Bubbles) was the man for hunting, and Dickie gave us the right guy, he found fields of wild Bush Turkey. Their long white necks strained in the evening sun. Bush Turkeys are a docile and slow moving bird, beautiful both visually and taste-wise, unfortunately for them. They are a favourite amongst the mob, especially in winter when their bellies are full of fat and juice. Bubbles told me he had been working as the groundsman for the school for 12 years. I wouldn’t have guessed he was old enough to have worked that long, his youthful face and smooth baby skin could be used for an Oil of Ulan advert. His confident manner and pleasant smile was infectious, he is the owner of a unique little characteristic which I just have to mention. During any discussion, he would emit a sharp and heavily accented “Yerp” as a response to all manner of questions. It served as an answer, a comment and a conversation additive. Bubbly was a man you could not help but like. Nookanbah is a hard working community. One would be forgiven for mistaking it for a mining camp, the guys are all dressed in high vis’ clothing. Old Troopies with the tops cut off ferried hay bales like makeshift tractors, and cowboys in big hats whirred back and forth across the community, going about the business of Nookanbah's Cattle station.

Out on country, Bubbly showed us how to dress down a bush turkey in true countryman style, plucked warm on the spot, he lit a fire and singed the fuzz off, then gutted it and checked in its stomach for the white pearly stone that brings good luck. The stomach bag, heart and most the organs are all considered the best part, but at this time of year, the birds are not fat enough, he informed us.

Back at the camp, he invited us to stay, and introduced us to his wife and sister. They prepared a huge fire, Devina cooked up some damper for a starter, and we roasted that turkey in the hot coals with fresh vegetables. We contributed some steak, but none of us were even remotely interested in cow with that fresh bird in the camp oven. Bubbly's house sits on the high watermark and he showed us the spot where people were catching Barra from his back yard, during the flood earlier this year . “Were you worried the house would go under?” Emily asked with concern. “Yerp” he replied in his single syllable that seems to represent a vast range of emotions. And that is what life is like for men like Bubbly, there is nothing really worth getting too upset about, nothing worth getting too uppity about either. There’s just an even stability in Bubbly reflected in that catch phrase of his. It's the motto of a man who can withstand adversity without self doubt or morbidity, and can accept good luck without ego or the need for acknowledgement. He sails his ship with a wind called acceptance, he knows you sail close to that wind, because soon it might be storm time, then again it might become becalmed.

Nookanbah is cut off in every direction for at least a minimum of three months every wet season. The world outside, just an idea across a flooded plain and boggy marsh, and so with a billy brewed tea in a tin cup, I contemplated being stuck out here with envy, and somewhere on the edge of Fitzroy River we faded into blissful obscurity with compete satisfaction, licking the oil of fresh turkey off our fingers. I could disappear from this world like a blink of an eye in the remoteness that is Nookanbah, and be content for the rest of my life. “It sure is beautiful out here Bubbly”  I said with sincerity and a hint of jealousy. “Yerp” confirmed Bubbly, with his economic discourse, full of certainty. “How often do you eat bush turkey Bubbly?” I asked. “Yerp” he confirmed.

 

Day 24

Wednesday 19/10/11w

Nookanbah

A big day lay ahead for us, there is at least 2 bands here that want to perform at the concert tonight, The Rock Eagles (a great name for a band, I thought) and Broken Hero (another great name for a band (I thought anyway).

But in the meantime we have the workshops to do. The School here is the biggest of any remote community I have ever been to. They have upwards of 100 kids at peak, today however we are informed we would be dealing with about 70. We decided to break them into two groups and do two workshops simultaneously then swap groups. Doing one lot of workshops is usually pretty tiring, but two in a row will be full on, and with a full set up, concert, and pack down tonight, we earned our keep in Nookanbah.

 

The concert was by the far the biggest we have ever done. Shannon’s band from Yakanarra showed up as well as The Yakanarra Band, and then the No Name Band wanted to play, which seemed to form out of nowhere? Previously unknown to us, and instantaneously appearing, perhaps inspired by the musical smorgasbord, I don’t know, but they were pretty good. The bass musician is a Western Bulldogs rookie, a huge fit-looking specimen he was! However, the real show stopper was the much anticipated Rock Eagle, these guys were a bunch of veteran muso's, older guys and obviously seasoned performers, seven of them in all! Poor Ewan nearly had a heart attack trying to record them. They had a keyboard, a multitude of vocals, bass, drums, and 3 guitars! They were really tight and it was pleasure to watch them, however I don’t think Ewan will be getting much rest over the next few days, having to mix down four bands (All hungry for a CD), and four lots of workshops from today! I will bet my last dollar these guys will be waiting at our door at daybreak, looking for the recorded track. They have had no concert or entertainment out here since we came last year!

 

Day 25

Thursday 20/10/11

Back to Jarlmadangah

In the morning, before anyone could get up, the first knock came. “Is that CD ready yet?”  I was keen to get the truck over to Jarlmadangah as soon as possible, the back road was an unknown quantity and we had to be there in time to set up and play tonight. So the truck left early, Ewan informed me later that night there was a few emotional moments when he gave the CD's to the bands. Gideon from the Broken Hero was so grateful he was nearly in tears, and so we left Nookanbah regretfully, but with many new friends.

 

Malcolm Skinner is one of the senior men around here. He knows every nook and cranny of this land better than anyone. I ran into him at the office, just before I was about to leave, and asked him if the back road to Jarlmadangah was passable in the truck. He looked it up and down, took of his sweat stained, felt cowboy hat, thought about it for a second, then ushered a calm “I reckon.” He  drew me a mud map, then offered to escort us to the first gate. “After that, you be right.” He pointed across the valley and into the wilderness with a casual hand, as if driving across the valley was all in a days work.

Once we left Malcolm, the Valley’s landscape changed dramatically and opened into rolling plains, I could have sworn I was in the Wheat Belt; as far as the eye could see, the brown stubble of cropped stems, like a harvested field, stretched before us. The earth here is a deep rich brown soil, the sun has baked these paddocks like an urn fires pottery, and the ground is a cracked pattern of hexagon shapes. Just before Camballin we drove across the Barrage, constructed on the Moola Bulla Station in the early Twentieth Century, John Watson has memories of labouring there. It was built mostly by Indigenous labour force and is the only weir or dam constructed in the Valley in spite of the many plans and ideas to dam the Fitzroy that have been proposed over the years. 

The road wound over far reaching plains taking the high ground by default. Obviously, most of these tracks have been pushed through in urgency or out of necessity, and one would not know how uneven this land is 'til  it is flooded. Anything with a bit of height becomes a road, and thus sometimes the track seems ridiculously serpentinous and meandering.

At Camballin, the road turned to bitumen and a row of massive double story houses lined a one sided street like West Coast Drive overlooking the ocean. However, they looked at nothing but dry dirt and scrub. Conspicuously positioned in the middle of nowhere they looked like a row of houses transported by an alien tractor beam from Malabo CA. Then just as suddenly, the road tuned back to dirt and we were lost in the vast remote Valley once again, as if Camballin was just a dream I had at the steering wheel.

Jarlmadangah was like a home coming. Nabaru welcomed us like old family and we drove the truck straight to the basketball court for setup, where a bunch of highly energetic kids dripping with anticipation bombarded us with questions, requests and demands, climbed all over Emily as if she had ‘I’m a swing set’ written on her forehead, until the teachers showed up like the cavalry, with a BBQ and some cutlery, and soon we had a show on our hands.

Sean the headmaster rang the school siren, and a sound like a 19th century air-raid warning filled the sleepy hollow of Jarlmadangah. The smell of BBQ steak, the sound of music, and the promises of entertainment filled our little open air amphitheatre with a willing audience, and for an intimate gathering we poured out our souls, vibrating the ether between us with stories of love, loss and hope, plucked out upon wood and string, a symphony of empathy, injected into the sweating Kimberley night and just as quickly, absorbed by an open sky, lost forever in the vastness of our surrounds, like a shooting star, our music was a flash against the night, ephemeral, like a spider web cast upon transient points, its gossamer threads just a brief connection across a world of vast cultures.

 

The highlight of the night for me was Laurie and Rosetta’s performance, Laurie works as the FaHCSIA agent out here, they have six girls and one boy! The boy all of 6 or 8 years old climbed up and clung to his mother while she and his elder sister harmonised. Laurie strummed my old Cole Clark with country rhythm and their bare and dusty feet spoke of an insoluble connection to the earth. This most beautiful couple chilled our bones, their songs full of stories of drovers and horse breakers, about his father and grandfather, cattlemen. The words painted illustrations on our minds like a Banjo Paterson poem, and spun up images of dusty scenarios full of life, death and toil on Kimberley soil. Laurie's heavily accented voice was the Aboriginal version of John Williamson and held us like a vice clamp, glued us to his every word, and lulled us into an age now past, like a romantic dream. His most unassuming manner and the honesty of his lyrics brought a tear to a few eyes, one of which I’m not ashamed to tell you was mine.

 

Day 26

Friday 21/10/11

Jarlmadangah

This morning we conducted the last lot of workshops for the Kimberley’s. I'm now confident to tell you that we can turn a sceptic into a believer, an ignoramus into a scholar, and a blind man into a seer (well maybe thats going to far), but our workshops are really good now. Not that we had any resistance from the teachers here at all, they bent over backwards to help us and then participated in everything we did. The best thing was that these kids sat with open jaws, absolutely intrigued with everything, which meant the scope of the information we can deliver was further increased.

Richard's musical skills and Ewan's production capabilities have created a perfect team. Richard has created a sort of template for the songs, so the content can be filled with words very quickly, and Ewan wrote click tracks for Richard to perform them to. It means the songs are fuller with a drum beat, and we can explain the components of a song, and show how easy it is to build a song track by track; chorus, verse, lead break, intro, vocals harmonies and break out etc. till we can play them back the full song with their little voices singing out!! Richard can then lay the lead breaks on ukulele, guitar or harmonica live, while Ewan multi tracks it all instantly. This is impressive for the audience and effective aurally. It means the kids get a CD with really good production quality that they are singing on, with a song they have written the words to, and chosen the feel and subject matter (with a little bit of guidance from us, to deliver some messages into the song). Next thing you know, you have kids running around singing stuff like “drink water, it's good for you, fruit and veg is healthy too” without realising they are doing it.

I know I am bragging now, but I have to tell you, the teachers at Nookanbah and here were really impressed with what we did. It has not always been this way, and we have developed the content by trial and error. One thing out here, is the open learning format, it means the age groups are always very broad. Older kids can take in more of the theory and information, but younger kids respond better to prizes and have a limited attention span, so we have had to learn to be flexible and versatile.

 

Day 27
Saturday 22/10/11
Jarlmadangah
We had all wanted to return to Jarlmadangah and give them a good show. Most importantly, was to do it before Brian left us, and so we have pushed ourselves hard, setting up after driving yesterday then jumping up for the workshops today. We had to do the workshops as early as possible to get him into Broome in time for his flight. His departure will be felt by all. He is a man with a unique set of skills, an artist, a poet, a seasoned performer and a great guy. An inspirational role model to the kids and a hit at every event. He is our secret weapon of motivation and never fails to create a furore of interest. I have watched him draw, with intricate detail, contemporary works of art, which he calls Graffiti, on chalk boards and scraps of paper, then just walk away, only interested in the activity and its engagement. I have seen him challenge the crowd to hold up items while he freestyle raps about them on the spot, and he is constantly concocting beats and lyrics, because that is what he loves to do. Travelling with a Hip Hop artist is not an experience many folk musician like myself would get, and our diverse arrangement of music on the DFT has been of great value to me. To meet someone that lives for his art and who’s art is his life, is rare. There is much to be said about that, but most of all we just love him and his carefree, albeit sometimes totally frustrating ability to live entirely in the moment. Even if it does mean back tracking to pick up his wallet occasionally, or spending all morning looking for his computer?!  
The rest of the crew waited back at Jarlmadangah but with Brian now gone we are all of four. Simone will join us in Derby on Monday to help Ewan take the car home, and Rob will do a roster change with Richard for the last three concerts after the Curtin Detention Centre. In the meantime, we took advantage of a day off to head out bush with one of John Watson’s nephews and catch that Barra!
 
TJ was our tour guide for the trip. He lives on Mt Anderson Station with John’s younger brother Harry Watson who runs the Cattle Station, but a tour company called Kimberley Dreamtime Adventure Tours runs trips from Broome in a bus during the peak season. TJ has opportunistically opened a camel ride and some sightseeing tours. Wanting to invest back into the community and hoping to get to see some of the country, I asked TJ to do a special tour for us. Being the off season there was no work and he was happy to make some extra coin. He ran through a list of tours he could give us. Camels rides, paintings, bushwalks, sunrise hill hikes, etc, to which I replied, “they sound fantastic, but we just want catch a Barra.”
He thought about it for a while then made some vague gestures, but returned in the morning after speaking to the Elders with some good news. “I’ll take you out to our own fishing spot, where no tourists go.” I could feel the barra biting at my line already!! “Can we camp out there the night too?” I asked a little over exuberantly, like a big kid. He smiled broadly at my embarrassment, realising I might have been inappropriate to ask for the baby just because I had been given the bassinette, but he indulged me even further with his casual extension of the above mentioned promise by offering to take us up a creek to one of his favourite camping spots. “You’ll eat lots of Cherabin tonight,” he teased. I could have fallen over dead with my leg in the air! The excitement was too much to bear, we had those swags jammed into the Prado along with the billy, some tea and our fishing gear in ten seconds flat.
 
We tracked across some pretty rough territory, but also amazing to see. The road was not really a road, barely even a track. In most places it had been pushed through on fresh ground very recently, probably since the last rains, as all this country is under water at some stage. In one section in the scrub it seemed he was just following an internal compass, until we come out at the edge of the great Fitzroy River. The huge rains earlier this year’s had forged many new arteries into the once flat valley, which created a series of very steep and intrepid crossings, at some points we lost sight of the TJ’s vehicle, and even his big V8 troopie struggled in parts. Over a metre of topsoil has been washed out to sea from most of this land since the barrage was built in 1959. The changes this has caused have been dramatic; it means the water forges new routes across the plains and washes out the earth that stores all the seed pods. Even in TJ’s life he recalls this area being flat, now it is undulating and scarred by hundreds of new creeks and river beds. The effect of even such a small scale damming operation has had a profound effect on the ecology, TJ spoke of plants and animals that are never seen here anymore with a sort of disbelief. Guddia logic?!

The mighty Fitzroy River never fails to impress me, but out here it is a forgotten paradise under a burning sun. The banks, steep and wide, are lined with majestic, ancient trees. Their huge and old trunks horizontally reaching out over the water as if they are bowing to an unseen King, are draped with a velvety type growth fit for the Royal courting it anticipates. Like platforms, they offered access out over the water’s edge at great heights, complete with shady canopy and soft foliage, each one like a tree house with built in furniture, designed by the environment, nailed together by evolution and arranged my mother nature. The banks of the Fitzroy here are like the cubby house of your dreams, a child’s paradise regained. Out here the fish roam with impunity; their sides glimmer with silver flashes in the broad stream, while more ominous dark shapes speak of other creatures, and the Fitzroy is an intricately balanced world of life and death, not to be treated with contempt.
From those slopes we cast in our baited lines with anticipation of the mouth-watering Barra that it would produce, but long before any good size Barra were landed, a horde of silver Catfish filled our coffer. At TJ’s insistence we retained them with great scepticism, but he assured us that we would enjoy them and even asserted that he favoured them over Barramundi!! A fact we found hard to digest, and with ignorance we threw back our lines ever awaiting that massive fish.
TJ disappeared along the banks for some time then reappeared with the silent stealth inherent of his ancestry, each footstep always sure, silent and graceful. He lit a fire and when the coals had burnt down he invited us to leave our lines. By the fire he revealed a decent size Barra’ stored under some leaves to keep the flies off, which he had caught quietly without celebration. It put to shame the barely size ones that we had made a huge fuss over with our great commotion, he must have watched our carousing with amusement.
For a lifetime I have thrown back those Catfish with contempt, cursing them as a nuisance. Once or twice I have hacked off their heads trying to cut through that large hard casing, negotiating those poisons barbs and awkwardly gutting them with ineffective determination. I’ve boiled them and fried them in butter but never been satisfied.
The trick is, I discovered all in the way you prepare them. Having no scales makes them very un-fishy, and when you know how, they are very easy to clean. TJ simply ripped the gills open at the neck, and squeezed the belly. The stomach popped inside out through the open neck and he flicked away the contents, leaving a clean gut protruding like a small sausage. Holding it by the mouth with one hand, he ran his fingers in a ring along the outside away from the poisonous barbs leaving the skin dry and free of dirt, then he hung them in the tree. “If they are dry when you put them on the coals” he informed me, “then the ash won’t stick to the skin.” Once the Kimberley air had dried them off, he lay the many small carcasses across the coals turning them slowly and lovingly with a stick until the skin bubbled like pork crackle.
He collected a few leafy branches off the mangrove plants to use as a dinner plate, then set the fish on them to cool.
The really exciting part was when he showed us how to eat them! Never have I seen a dish or food source that has such a comprehensive built in dining experience. Complete with own cutlery, assorted culinary delights, and a vast array of flavours all in one dish. Let me explain; often one catches a fish, skins it , fillets it, and throws away the carcass. You are now left with a chunk of white meat. If you fry it, you make a perfectly healthy meal fattening, or it just tastes like butter instead. By cooking the catfish on the coals with its guts, bones and skin, it is packed full of flavour. The skin has a layer of fat under it, in the coals its goes crunchy like crackle and is a delicacy, or so TJ promised as he turned the fish upside down, took hold of the wings and lifted it back towards the tail. The wings, along with a strip of crunchy skin, peeled back perfectly like a pre-cut package. With great relish he crunched the skin, “I’ll eat this over Barra any day” he reaffirmed with delight and a groan of satisfaction. I followed suit. It was indeed flavoursome and not fishy in the slightest, more like chicken skin only silver. Next, he sucked the wings dry, not a skerrick of meat was to be seen on any part after he finished. Next, he hooked his finger through the throat, and the gills and guts pulled out like a ring-pull can. Attached to the back of it was a ring of organs; the heart, the liver and kidneys I suppose. He sucked them off first “this part the delicacy” he said again. “is any part not a delicacy?” I asked facetiously. “Mmmmmm” was all he could manage in reply. Once again, I followed suite, it was nice, sort of overpowered with that liver taste mostly, so if you like lambs fry you’d be right. Next, we ate the stomach like a crunchy protruding sausage, it was chewy, like the fat on a steak only not as oily. But next was the “proper good bit” TJ informed me, “it’s a delicacy right?” I checked. This part, he said, is the bit that everyone fights over like the cream on top of the old milk bottles. TJ called it a tongue but I think it was like an air bladder, its texture was very chewy, but it looked like a white hollow tongue. he slurped it up with obvious satisfaction, releasing a loud Mmmm’s through busy lips. “Even Bear Grylls, he don’t know dat trick”, he offered with assurance. Once again I followed suite and can confirm that it was divine and now all our mouths were watering and we had not even eaten any of the meat yet. Now he started on the two belly fillets that lifted out like ripe fruit. Delicious and tender, it melted in my mouth and by now I was really impressed. That was not the end of the dismemberment of this dish, like unfurling a Russian Doll, it just kept offering more. On the other side he took the head between his fingers, snapped the bone near the back of the head, and pulled upwards and back towards the tail. Once again it came away with a strip of crunchy skin like an orange peel, and just when you thought you could not enjoy it any more, it was another huge chunk of crunchy skin. He removed the back straps and they lifted out in two neat fillets. By this time I was getting full, and all that was left now was to suck the last vestiges of meat away from the bones, and this we did with great satisfaction, casting the skeleton back into the fire. And the best bit; no dishes!!
By the end of my first ‘coal grilled Catfish’, I was a convert. Later that evening we fished for dinner and let three Barra go, all I wanted was Catfish now.
 
Later TJ moved us to a billabong where he promised we would get a feed of cherabin for dinner. With the stillness at the water’s edge intoxicating us, and in the fading light, we lit a fire which reflected in a multitude of little beady eyes, glowing in the blackness of the water like comical cartoon creatures. The Crocs (freshies) were so prolific that TJ even caught one three or four foot long on a fishing line. We didn’t eat it, in case you’re wondering, but only because the line snapped.
 
Day 28
Sunday 23/10/11
Jarlmadangah
The next day was more of the same, and time stood still for us. it did not count or have any tangible relation that we could conceive out here, it is a timeless world as it has been for the hundreds of centuries of the lives of men before us. After all, who would ever want to leave this? After a day here I have forgotten all my woes, given up my concern, let go of my desires and detached from my ego without any effort or conscience decision to do so, it is all just displaced by sheer force of nature. The self is drowned out by the beauty and wonder. There are no mirrors to remind one, no windows to reflect our image. For a second I was just a part of nature, like an Indigenous man, I understood the shy reserved nature, for what needs to be said. I understood the economy of movement, for what could you do here that could improve it? I understood the beliefs, why would you need for anything more than what you can see and in that second I believed too, I saw the perfection of things. It was just a second.
 
Before we returned to Jarlmadangah, TJ took us for a drive to see some paintings, back across the plains and into the dry arid and open valley. John and Harry had found them as children but the stories had been lost, TJ explained. The original artists, the Nyikina people traditionally from here, had disappeared before John could remember and so they cannot be kept by the Mangala because they did not learn the law associated with them. This, unfortunately, means that these drawing will fade away now and weather in the elements, however many of the spirits here are similar to Mangala, and so TJ interpreted what he knew from his own Law. One large drawing laying sideways out of reach of the ground was what he called the Barlungun, it is a bad spirit. He talked about it with hesitation, explaining that this spirit tries to entrap men by making them thirsty and hungry. Once the Barlungun has a hold on you, you will become delirious and can get lost. “If you have been walking long time then find you are back in the same place, it means the Barlungun is close” said TJ. In this way, the bad spirit can take you over, his ambition is to trap you in the heart of a hollow Boab tree where he will lead you in your delusion. Inside this tree you will become his prisoner, and will be fed on frogs and insects until you are fat enough for him to eat. But all is not lost, there is also a good Barlungun which one can call upon to help. TJ explained how this valley came into being, under Mangala Law it is understood that the Fitzroy river was formed by Winubu, an ancient Spirit Being, he speared the Rainbow Serpent, who then lay down and died in the form of the mighty river. Winubu then turned into a bird and flew away.
If (like me) you’re wondering what happened to the Nyikina that painted these rocks, and why they are missing without a trace like the Easter Island tribe, then you can Google the Mower Bluff massacre. There is no real evidence to support the oral law that surrounds the story of the Mower bluff massacre in 1916, except for some police records that showed up 80 years later in Broome, documenting claims from two Aboriginal men who found their way to Broome two years after the event with gunshot wounds that had healed with the bullets still in them. The accusations where briefly investigated and their statements, along with the medical records, buried and forgotten. It is claimed that over 300 men, women and children may have been killed by the early pastoralists and the police after a series of reprisal actions carried out between pioneers and Nyikina men in a familiar set of circumstances played out on every colonial front the world over. It’s an age old story and I wont entertain it here, but you know the jist of it. It’s not my fault, nor is it yours. It’s not about blame or guilt, but it would be good to acknowledge the truth. If Germany can do it, then surely we can too. So who’s going to do that? I think I can be justified in feeling guilty if I don’t. And I think I am to blame if I don’t start now. All I know is a language group about 400 strong disappeared off the face of the earth at some point, about the same time as our great grandfathers were crawling over the trenches in Gallipoli. We all know what happened at Gallipoli, why don’t we know about what happened here?
 
100 years later I am standing under a massive outcrop, protruding from the burnt rolling plains like a misplaced landscape. Its ridge offered shelter from the prevailing easterly’s, and its slight incline, protection from the sun. Amazingly, a series of little pools of water have formed in the rock wall where hundreds of years of dripping has etched out little basins. The water is fresh and cool. Pressed through  a million ton of rocks, filtered by a huge minerals machine. Birds nest along its edge, snake tracks and animal prints adorn the soft white beach sand that forms the floor. Some type of native fern/creeper craws up the undulating walls. It’s nothing short of miraculous, it is the perfect home, complete with running water and the constant food source that it would attract, juxtaposed against a red and dry landscape. This sanctuary would have been a haven. Large slabs of rock are etched with deep long reservoirs where the red rock and plants used to paint these ceilings were ground into paste. Maybe only a hundred years ago?! From its elevated position, one could imagine faring out the rains of the wet season here. Land locked by the flooded plains below, painting those hours away with the stories of the Dreaming.
This place is powerful, to me now it represents life, precious life, a reprieve from the harsh surrounds. Its comforts are a stark contrast to the unforgiving environment around it. Obviously, it has been employed for generations in this manner. If this place was in use only a short time ago, then it would be safe to assume that it has been used by previous generations, maybe as a seasonal resting place, maybe just for ceremony or initiation? There is no reason that it could not have been in use for 20,000 years or more, probably continuously up till only a short time ago.
TJ was stoic, the power of an ancestral presence like a spell upon him. He squatted in the shade of a Ghost Gum tree that grew awkwardly from a crack in the faceiour, tapped into some unseen source of water. Its smooth trunk balanced a leafy umbrella of shade above our heads. In that reprieve we listened to the silence of the stone around us. It held stories of the ages. I could almost hear the tapping sticks, the primal wailing song of ceremony, the crackle of the glowing embers. I envisioned the painted faces, the smell of coal roasted meat. For TJ, this place had meaning beyond our comprehension. Not just personal identification, but a continued connection, unbroken since the Dreaming. A type of contented completeness. Then I knew that this was as close as I would ever get.
 
That night back at Jarlmadangah, I went looking for John Watson to play him his new song. I strapped the guitar to my back and walked across the sandy community with bare feet. I stopped once to drop my expectations in a bin, then I discarded any pretences I could find. A host of dogs followed me like I was a meal. At his yard I checked my motive, and as he answered I realised I had no idea. Both him and Harry stood in the darkness, side by side. They watched me approach in silence and when I called John’s name they both remained silent. It wasn’t until I called a second time and John said calmly “No need to yell”, that I actualy made out their figures in the darkness. Stoic and unmovable. As is their ancient custom, they had watched me, motionless and silent. Harry held a tin cup, empty now, in his hands behind his back,. His face expressionless but profound, covered in silver whiskers like a Taoist monk. A worn out cowboy hat and his bow legs, wide and round, betrayed him as a stockman and horse breaker. Even at his age he looked powerful and strong. He stood taller than me, and would have been a force to be reckoned with in his day. John stood beside him with a gruff face, I had obviously interrupted a important discussion. His huge white beard matched his thick white eyebrows and I couldn’t help but think of Gandalf the wizard. “Well you found me, now what?” he barked. Embarrassed, I declared I had come to see if he wanted to hear the song he had asked me write for him, but then I just wanted to run away. They were both silent and I knew not to talk again. After a brief pause John said, “Well let’s hear it”. With naught else to do, I swung the guitar around my shoulder mounted an invisible stage and swallowed hard. I felt like it was the most important performance I would ever play, and I couldn’t believe how nervous I was. My hands trembled in the dark. But I plucked out that simple tune to the best of my ability and in the darkness standing in the red dirt under a Kimberley sky I called out.
My name is John Watson
I’m drover and a stockman
I bin working this land
for as long as I can,
Remember, Remeeeeeeeemmmberrrrrrrrrrrrr,
When I had finished singing I opened my eyes, several of John’s nephews had joined us, appearing from the ether. “What is that song called?”, asked some white teeth in the darkness. “That songs about me, I’m a drover and a stockman”, John rejoined proudly. The mosquitoes bit at my heels and bare neck. I didn’t care, I had won a victory over myself, John was happy and I was relieved. As the kids ran off into the darkness, I heard them sing; “Remember, Remeeeeeeemmmberrrrrrrrrrrrr”.
“Come in Damien, sit down with me” said John. On the veranda, a Killers head stripped of meat stared blankly with its giant, white-bone, eye sockets, empty and hollow. A cute brown puppy chewed at a corner of its nose. The smell of roasted meat wafted to my nostrils. I asked John to help me write the last few verses by telling me about his life. “Have you got a pen and paper?” he asked. I handed them to him. “I can’t write!” he cried with indignity. “Put me to work at the age of 7 they did Damien, was not allowed to go to school, had to work, I did”, and so began a sojourn into a world of cattlemen and hardship as recounted by those that stood before the old iron gate. When the west was won, or lost.
 
Day 29
Monday 24/10/11
The concert that I can’t talk about
Today marks the end of our work in the Valley, and after making our farewells we turned our bow west to make our way back home. Off our stern, the great Fitzroy Valley and her life-giving River faded into the rear view mirror. John Watson’s last words sounded in my mind, “Don’t say goodbye Damien, just say I’ll see you soon” as I pondered on his life of loss and gain, how many friends, brothers, family had he said goodbye too and never seen again? I guess I’ll have to wait till the book comes out. But I promised myself to return here as soon as I can.
 
In the mean time our next big challenge lays not more than a few hundred miles away, just south of Derby at the Curtin Detention Centre. The concert that I am not allowed to talk about. I have no idea what to expect, or what it will be like, but I know that there will be musicians in there that will want to record their songs, and I expect any form of entertainment will be welcome. For this reason, I hope we are well received and most importantly, of service to our fellows.
 
The road in is in the middle of nowhere, but when you arrive at the facility, you know you are somewhere! A bustling hive of activity, like a mini city on a mangrove tidal flat, surrounded by waterless scrub in every direction. If you didn’t know it was here, you would never guess. I had to leave my dog at the gate house, and it was a little distressing to say goodbye to her knowing I would not be back out till around midnight, but unfortunately dogs, along with phones and sharp instruments stay at the gate. The compound itself was impressively fortified; towering double, boundary fences boasted of their impenetrability with electric borders and razor wire. Access points are heavily guarded and a convoluted process of double gates, checkpoints, cameras and security guards covered all access and exit points, and one could be forgiven for thinking they where looking at Auschwitz, until one is inside where you realize that all this excessive force is probably more effective at keeping people out than in. Inside the compound I met friendly faces, inquisitive expressions, kind smiles and warm handshakes. Heads wobbled from side to side like friendly hawkers at any bazaar, men sat on mats on the ground plying cards and others squatted to smoke or chat. In fact I felt like I could have been in an one of the thousands of markets somewhere in Asia. The majority of these guys are Hazara’s from Afghanistan, Iran and Pakistan. In Afghanistan, first they fled fighting against occupation forces from the old Soviet Union, then they ran to escape a civil war, then the coming of the Taliban five years ago saw them killed in ethnic cleansing equitant to genocide. Now they are running away from hunger, winter and American bombs.
The Hazara people of Afghanistan are its most culturally distinct, and most persecuted. Their gentle Mongolian features set them apart from other Afghans, and so does their adherence to the Shia sect of Islam.
Inside, this facility it is clean and green. The guys have built magical little gardens, and pool tables and TV’s adorn most outdoor areas. (I’m not sure if pool is very popular in the Middle East, ‘cause most of the guys seem to use the tables as seat rather than for billiards). The rooms are air-conditioned and not much different from living in a boarding school or camp-like dorms. However, the bottom line is that these guys do not want to escape, they know that it would hinder any chance of getting a visa, and at the end of the day they just have to wait. So the reality is that this facility/prison, boarding camp, detention centre (or whatever it is) has the dubious quality of looking and serving as something like a mix between a holiday camp and Alcatraz. The real issue for these guys is that they just don’t know, and it’s the indefinite amount of time that hangs around their neck like a rope of conscience. The physical world of impoundment and the lack of freedom is compounded by their inner struggle. Many of these guys have left a family, a wife and children and spent all their life’s saving to take a huge risk. The conflict of abandoning one’s family on a vague chance of making it to a distant country (if you survive) on the assumption that if you make it, there is a slight opportunity to be able to give your family a better life, becomes the nightmare of conflict which creates a living hell for most of these guys, and so this facility has the highest rate of depression of any know. I can’t help but ask myself, if there 1200 guys here, how many did not make it?
 
John is the music teacher here and was assigned to help us, we also received help from several other staff with positions ranging from English teaching to yoga and drama. We set up the recording equipment in John’s music room; well equipped and comfortable. We were accommodated for our every need and given a very generous lunch before we started the workshops. A couple of the resident musicians were sought out and one guy, Ali, from Afghanistan, showed up with his own traditional instrument called a Dambora; a two stringed type of lute that he played some traditional folk songs on in a very eastern mode. We recorded this music for him which made him very happy. Ali was a very pleasant and unassuming fellow, young and handsome, with long and thick black hair, calm and softly spoken, his English was quite good and we spent most of the day with him.
Another client (as they call them there), was an Iranian fellow called Ahmad , who got up and mounted the keyboard. He searched through the presets till he found a eastern sounding drum beat, then proceeded to astound us with an Iranian rap song! When he had finished, we all sat silent, a little dumbfounded. He was obviously an accomplished musician. Pianist, singer, rap artist. When I asked him what the words meant in English, he informed us that before leaving Iran he had been a part of an underground music scene, in which he had become very popular or perhaps infamous, until he was caught by police and jailed for 2 years as a political prisoner for writing songs against the government. As he spoke, I could see the looks of disbelief on my crews faces. Trying to comprehend what it would be like, to have so little freedom and to be imprisoned at such an young age, and for, what seemed to us, a trivial offence. He seemed to have an inexhaustible repertoire, and we recorded several songs with him before the English teacher we had met earlier brought her entire class into the music workshop, at which point we had about 40 guys sitting in front of us. I had no idea what to do, really! The workshops we have been doing are more for kids then adults, and most of the guys didn’t speak English. The teacher insisted it would be good practice for them to try sing a song though, so I asked Ahmad if he would  help me write a song with the guys, and he agreed good naturedly. He struck a melody in a typical eastern mode, which was a great start. Then I asked the group if they could help me write a song. There was some multicultural discussion, till the translation came back that it would not be possible because there were five different languages in the room. I suggested that we just try to write it in English, then translate it so we both learnt a few words. Ali translated this back to the group, and to those that understood, it seemed to generate much excitement. The Pakistani guys wobbled their heads from side to side, some stared blankly, others just happy for any distraction smiled broadly. Not sure if anyone knew what I was saying, I pressed on regardless. One thing was for sure, we were having some fun. “What would you like to write about?” I asked. “I want visa”, someone yelled from the back, there was a chorus of laughter. “So what would a visa mean to you?” I asked, “Freedom!” he declared.
And so in this manner the material for our song was born. Our chorus read like this:
We are six different cultures,
But we want the same thing
We are here together
For our freedom we sing!

Although Ahmad was not Persian speaking, he managed to sing and perform the song in both languages. There was some interesting discussion amongst the guys while they translated the words, but the end result was that they used Persian, and so we all got a lesson in English and Persian, by repeating the song through together each time. If you want to listen to the resulting song you can go to Desert Feet Tour’s soundcloud.com and listen. It was an amazing experience, and as the word spread throughout the facility, more and more guys crammed into the room till the air-conditioner could not handle it anymore and shut down, leaving us to sweat it out in a transportable, stuffed with about 70 detainees, packed to standing room only, under a sweltering Derby sun.
 
That night at the concert, 1200 guys crowded around the stage in silent amazement, a cultural smorgasbord of epic proportions. Transfixed, our truck and stage met with looks of wonder and intrigue. When we began to perform every song met warm applause and loud cheers. When Em and I took the stage they went wild. It’s the greatest cheer we have ever received. Mind you, most of it was directed at Emily (well maybe all of it), but it was a great feeling to obtain such encouragement, and so I sung out my heart as hard as I could. I would guess that most of these guys couldn’t understand a word I said, but I reckon I got the message across.
Ali and Ahmad got up and did a set each. One fellow got up and sang what sounded like Middle Eastern Yodelling? A series of short laments in rising and descending scales ranging from falsetto to high pitched. I have no idea what he was saying, but at the end of each one he received a cheer like a “Hurrah!”, after which he would continue on. They all sounded pretty much the same to me, but it was an interesting cultural experience. Ali played his Afghanistan folk songs on the Dambora and keyboard, and Ahmad, obviously a seasoned performer, performed for nearly an hour. At one point he got another guy playing rhythm on the djembe while he freestyled in Iranian for a good 7mins! Ahmad, skilled and versatile with his instrument, contributed keyboard for another of the guys who held up some sort of traditional Persian folk songbook, the repetitious but entrancing mode invoked a sort of intoxication of the senses, and dancing broke out with intensity. From then on, they owned the stage and dance floor. We learnt several of the dance moves, but mostly we were just swept up in the emotion of it all. Exotic dance, foreign music, cultural diversity, and a euphoric but sober release from captivity. The dusty red dirt absorbed our sweat as the warm and humid air clung to our shirts, wet with exertion and soaked with music. To forget the past, we believe in the future, but music is the source that connects us with the present moment. Together in a circle with arms joined, we danced without a past or future. We just danced, free and simple. Just people. Not Iranians, or Afghanistani, or Australian, or anything. Just people dancing together.
During the night, I took a few moments to go and sit in the crowd, disappearing amongst the group. To sit and listen to their language, and watch them enjoy the night. I struck up a few strained conversations in what limited English some of them had, mostly they just wanted to thank us. Sometimes their praise and appreciation became overwhelming. Trying to explain that it was our pleasure and privilege, was too cumbersome and so mostly I grinned and nodded my head, soaking up the good vibes and love. But there were two profoundly moving conversations I had that night that I will never forget. Muhammad’s English was really good, and he expressed to me that our songs had made him long for home, to be with his wife and baby daughter whom he had not seen for 18 months. “Very romantic, you make me romantic” is how he explained it. Muhammad was a young guy maybe 23 or 25, well built, very fit, and confident. I noticed his arms where badly scarred with what looked like burns. During our conversation he explained to me what he was running from and why he left. In his broken English and with his own understanding of the words he knew he expressed his conundrum. “One part of me is ashamed for leaving, and I am afraid what will happen to my family. I want to die myself now, but then all hope will be lost for my family. The other part of me struggles to keep hope and be strong.” After 18 months there is a light at the end of Muhammad’s tunnel. However, he explained to me how the depression ‘Took all his weight.’ He became suicidal and started to self harm. The burns on his arms spelled his wife’s name on the right his daughters name on the left, etched into his skin with the pain of longing, one dot at a time with a cigarette. They where deep and purple, they would never leave him. I am sure there are 1200 stories of longing, loss and fear like this in here. That is just one.
 
Day 30
Tuesday 25/10/11
It was 1:30am by the time we checked into the King Sound Lodge. Determined to get some sleep, I drew the curtains, but I was awakened early by a phone call from Rob saying was crook and could not come.
It was also time to say farewell to Richard after nearly a month on the road together, it is with great regret that we see him go. With the big Curtin gig behind us now we will turn our sites for home and edge our way along the 2600 kilometres between us and the end of the trip. Between then and now, we have three more concerts and workshops to perform. Possibly one night in Bidyadanga to record some music with famous Shoveller Family Band, then two concerts/workshops as part of the Rio Tinto Picnic Day community festivals at Tom Price and Paraburdoo, which will break the long trip up. However, as our shift change did not work as well as planned, now we are three. We decided to just head for Broome and work it all out there.
The truck has been running hot, and we had to take it slow. A head wind was not helping and very, very hot day made it worse. Five hours later we had checked into a hotel and were ready to grab some much needed rest. We held a bit of a meeting and looked at our time frame. It was 1200km to Tom Price and that meant a full day on the road for the truck. To be in Tom Price on Friday we needed to be on the road by Thursday morning latest. That gave us a window of opportunity to visit Bidgidanga tomorrow night only. The truck windscreen is held in with gaffa tape, and I had to have the new one fitted tomorrow morning. With only three of us to do a full set up and pack down, we decided it was too much work to undertake shorthanded. The final decision was with Ewan; it was him that would have to do the lion’s share of the work with recording and mixing down. His workload was already overflowing from the previous concerts, and the idea of ending up with another heap of tracks to mix down was too much to bear. We all work hard to make the show happen, but Ewan never gets a seconds rest once the truck is set up, as he is stuck with the mixing desk the whole time. He can go for several hours without getting to sit down, and that includes getting up and playing his set, setting up and packing away, but not the hours of editing he will have to do later too.
 
Day 31
Wednesday 26/10/11
Well I’m starting to feel a bit sentimental as the end of the tour draws near. Today is a refuel day. Refuel the truck at $350, refuel the Prado at $180, refuel our energy tanks with a good night’s sleep, a big meal and a bit of  R and R. I put the new windscreen in the truck and that cost $650 and four people for two nights in Broome cost $500. So I managed to blow nearly two grand today! For some reason it seems cheaper to be out on a remote Aboriginal community?!
Putting in the windscreen was relief, I was not sure if that would make it back to Broome. Every morning I woke up, that crack got bigger, it was nearly touching all four corners of the cab by the end, and most of the left side was covered in black gaffa tape! I was envisaging having to drive out of the valley over dirt roads with no windscreen, that would not have been fun, but like about 99% of my fears, it didn’t come true.
I’m looking forward to seeing Brian and Candice again at Tom Price, I miss them both. When I reflect on the last 31 days, I remember with fondness some of the funny incidents that happen on the road. When you live, work, perform and hang out together, you get pretty close. Candice has a real fear of insects and creatures, which I think is really funny, because there is nowhere on earth with more of those things than the Kimberley. Day one at One Arm Point after checking into our rooms, Candice came back in the afternoon to change clothes, and found four giant green frogs sitting on her opened suitcase! She was nearly traumatised. Then at Wangkatjungka when she went to flush the loo, she put her hand on a frog which was sitting on the button, and came out screaming, holding her hand like it had been burnt!
Then there was the time in Fitzroy Crossing on Brian’s birthday, when the guys had a bit of a ‘celebration.’ The next morning I found Brian’s t-shirt hanging off a pole at the shopping centre about 20km away? To this day, no one knows how it got there.
The funniest thing I remember is Richard, he really was a laugh a minute, always up to something. During the workshops, he likes to do this trick with the kids where he pretends his head is made of wood by knocking on the hollow chamber of his cello from behind, while tapping his head at the same time. Later one night at Nookanbah I saw one of the kids try to knock on his head several times. No matter how many times he explained it was not real, the kids would not give up. So Richard had a host of kids following him all night, knocking his wooden head.
 
Day 32
Thursday 27/10/11
We bailed Broome town with the rising sun, sights set for sunny Tom Price! A quick stopover with our good mate and fellow friend of Bill W, at Sandfire Roadhouse, where he and Dorothy shouted us a huge breakfast of fresh eggs in the best omelette I have ever had. I got to see my first albino Peacock, it was doing its ‘look at me who wants to have babies’ show, all his feathers sticking up. I never knew they could rattle their feathers like rice shakers. I couldn’t stop watching him parade around trying to get jiggy with a peahen. It was pretty comical, I guess guys are the same across all species.
On the Roebuck Plains we hit a strong headwind which brought our speed down considerably. Then around 10am she started to overheat again, so I took a look underneath her and discovered she had a bad crack in the exhaust. With the exhaust not drawing the heat away from the manifold properly, and the 20-30 knot head winds, we crawled along at no more than 65kph for a good 5 hours, trying to keep her from getting to hot. It was 3pm before we reached Port Hedland and turned south and away from the headwind, and with the cooler afternoon we arrived safely in Tom Price that night about 9pm. 16 hours on the road is a good leg.
 
Day 33
Friday 28/10/11
The festival that we joined was called Picnic Day. An exclusively Rio Tinto funded event for the town, which is basically Rio Tinto’s town. A family fun day for the wider community and workers of Rio. Amber of White Room Design very graciously employed us to feature as one of the attractions in the marquee area. The benefit to us was to show off our set up and it was a chance to meet some of the Rio Tinto crew. A company that as yet we have not been able to penetrate. In return, we supplied four fresh acts for the main stage to support the headline act, a Blues Brothers Tribute Band called the ‘All Star Showstoppers’. Ewan (The Mong), Candice (Ulla Shay),  Brian (Bryte MC) did half hour sets each from 4pm onwards. Then everyone got back up (Candice on drums, Ewan on bass, and Bryte doing some freestyle) to play with Em and I as The Orphans! The production and main stage supplied by Rock West was epic, and it’s the biggest stage we had ever played on. There was some 2000 people at Tom Price and it was an impressive set up, but it’s a different world playing at gigs like this. It’s not a festival in the sense of ‘Blues and Roots’, and it’s not really a carnival like the Royal Show. It’s a corporate community event, and so it’s all free to the public. I must admit that this type of surplus does not really inspire me much (especially the fireworks at the end, which is just a waste of money if you ask me), and as the old cliché goes ‘when you give someone something for nothing they usually don’t appreciate it.’ Tom Price is like an alien planet after where we have been. Talk about culture shock, (sorry any miners or Tom Price crew if your reading this) but give me a poor remote Indigenous Community any day!! The kids are better behaved, you feel appreciated and the outcomes seem far more tangible. Tom Price is basically a hole in the earth, it would not be there if it was not for the massive iron ore extraction taking place, and most people seem to be in a waking dream, reflecting each other in their high vis’ orange clothing and reflective strips. Overindulged on the fat of the land. Too many all-you-can-eat buffets for breakfast, lunch and tea, too much money, and nothing to do. All I heard most of the day was complaints about not enough stuff to do for the kids; not enough rides, not good enough this or that, and so while their kids made cupcakes, played games, got their faces painted, and filled up on free smoothies, they sat huddled in the bar area in one corner, dulling the pain of an existence/ nonexistence. We had some good feedback on our music, but I think Tom Price is probably not the best place to play slow, original, acoustic folk music. However, the kids loved it all and danced like crazy. I think I should just start playing in a purple suit and call myself The Wiggles. To any adults that I caught remotely enjoying themselves (even if they tapped thier foot once, could be perceived to have clapped or accidently waved at a fly),  I rewarded with a CD, so a big thanks to those of you that appreciated the soul and vibe of the original musician.
 
Day 34
Saturday 29/10/11
It was a mammoth operation and a credit to Amber to have got that huge production packed up and moved all the way to Paraburdoo by the next day. I’m not actually sure how they did it, because I know we struggled with our little show in the time frame but following day saw us set up on the oval again, ready for day two. I was a bit concerned how the workshops would go in this environment, and with loud music coming from the main stage, it was hard to write a song with the kids. But Ewan stepped up to the mark and just made it happen yesterday. He is such a life saver. I was just out of juice and had no energy, I was worried that Amber would not be happy with us, as it was all an unknown quantity, and at one stage every other stall had kids in front of it except ours. Ewan was urging me to just start, saying that the kids would come if I did, but I was sort of shell shocked. Next thing I know Ewan has the mic’ in his hand and is doing the Cha Cha Slide dance, yelling over the PA “c’mon kids, join in!” Ten minutes later Candice walked over after finishing her set picks up the guitar and has these kids eating out of her hand! Love this team. Within twenty minutes she has them singing a song and Ewan recording it just before he flies off to do his set on the main stage. From there we had our secret weapon Bryte MC doing beat boxing, and then a graffiti workshops, that got a bit out of control when all the kids just picked up a spray can each and started to spray paint the truck!
So today, learning from our mistakes, we got Bryte to do a mural and sectioned off the area with danger tape. He started painting at 2pm and did not stop till 930 that night. It was a super effort, and the tray of the truck is now completely covered in graffiti artwork. Today is the last gig for us, and we have played nearly every day in one form or another for 30 days. So when we got on stage today, I felt totally relaxed and we played a great set to a fun audience on a huge stage. It was the perfect climax for the 2011 Desert Feet Tour and I think Amber was suitably impressed, as she has invited us to repeat our efforts at the Fusion Fest in May next year.
I think Bella should get paid for this show too, as she became a main attraction at our stage. Either that or I should start an animal farm tent with her as the centrepiece. All night she was lead around by the leash by adoring little kids, and I am not sure how many cupcakes she ate, but I think they nearly killed her with love. By the time I realised what was happening, her disgorged stomached was hindering her movements, and I had to lift her into the back of the cab to prevent her from overdosing on sugar. Her head was purple, stained the colour of the fruit smoothies all the kids where drinking. She had either rolled in it or had it poured over her head, I’m not sure, but she was a very sticky and fat dog.
 
Day 35
Sunday 30/10/11
I woke at 5am to start the truck, Emily was flying out from Newman, so we needed to bolt for it ASAP. I made the mistake of leaving Bella in the cab, thinking it would be cold. I had underestimated the amount of cupcakes she must have eaten, and the result was some interior decorating that I was not too happy about dealing with at 5am!!! The poor thing was so sick she looked green, except for the purple patch of raspberry smoothie on her head which had now gone crusty and dry. She will now take her place on the back of the truck for the rest of this trip I believe.
 
At Newman, the truck would not start again, and now that I was alone I had to ask someone at the shops to help me start her. The poor guy must have been wondering what he was dealing with when he got into the cab. I saw him actually flinch at the smell, but I was too tired to explain that my dog had vomited in the cab not me, and I was worried about the truck not starting. He had a very strange look of scepticism on his face when I produce a bent piece of fencing wire and a pair of pliers. “When I yell out, NOW!, you turn the key, ok?”  The guy was in shock as I climbed under the truck, he must have been to stunned to reply, but I knew he got the message and sure enough she kicked over first pop. A huge cloud of black smoked poured out of the cracked exhaust and I appeared from it to offer him thanks, but it seems our friendship was not destined to develop any further as he ran off pretty fast. I wanted to buy him a few beers or something to thank him, but it was not to be.
By Capricorn Roadhouse I had about 20 smelly Christmas trees hanging in the cab, another two packs of Kleenex Wet Ones had been used on the back seat, still to no avail, and all I could do was keep my windows down. So the unstoppable White Rhino limped its way to Meekatharra. The hole in my exhaust now sounded like a twin turbine jet engine, screaming in though the open windows, and so with two bits of toilet paper stuffed into my ears and a beautiful sunset in the west, I headed for home. Life is good!  
 
Day 36
Monday 1/11/11
Home Coming
It was not till later that night that I realised I would not be able to just pull over on the side of the road to sleep. Once I stopped the truck I’d need another person to start it. So if got tired, I took quick naps with the engine running until I could get to the next roadhouse or truck stop. However, as I left Newman in the arvo, I hit a strong wind and severe weather warning just before Meekatharra. The earth put on a ferocious display of her beauty, and the wide open plains of the Pilbara gave me a view worth mentioning. A mosaic of sunny fields dotted with intense rain could be seen in every direction, it was sun showers and rainbows. In the distance I watched downpours lean into the wind like bent columns emerging from black clouds, while other parts of the road remained as dry as the desert they are. A few sheet downpours crashed into the truck with violent strength, and then the sun split the world apart, driving arrows of light through dark clouds like pierced hearts. The red dust blown into the sky by the winds, the moisture in the air from the rain and light from the setting sun exploded into a mesmerizing show of elemental beauty and once again, I was reminded of my insignificance in the stream of life.
 
Now as the city of Perth grows near, I contemplate the successful completion of year four of the Desert Feet Tour. A lonely feeling of disbelief fills me, and I ask myself  “What have we achieved?” Is the world a better place? Have we changed the lives of anyone we reached? Have we had a positive effect? What do I do now...................? I know I am employed by a force beyond my understanding. Up till three days before we left for this trip, we had less than a third of the budget. It was suggested to me that we need to delay the tour. I agreed, but there was a desire in me so strong that I would not have forgiven myself had I failed. Determination? Audacity? Immaturity? All of the above? It’s a mindset that says “Damien, I know if you just go and do it, somehow, you will make it, and then everything will be better, and next time it will be different.” But here I am, coming home, and nothing is different here. No press awaits us, nor celebrations. No homecoming will sing our praises. In fact, no one really knows we even left. I do not expect life to be fair, nor do I think I deserve anything in particular, nor do I even presume to have an answer to any of the issues I have raised, but I hope I am doing something about them. Most of all, I hope that you now believe, as I do, that our greatest single resource is not the minerals in the ground, or the ground itself, it is a culture of immeasurable value, and it’s ours. The indigenous people of this country offer us an opportunity to develop ourselves both as a nation and as individuals, that as yet, is mostly untouched. This journey has been, for me, about bridging the gap. But not the gab that i hear about in the media. I’m talking about my own gab, the gap between me and the First Peoples of Australia, the void of ignorance that i have lived in and about questing the racial predacious i have inherited and learned, it has been about facing my own fears and finding my own truths and on the path the relationship i have discovered have forced me to look for new meanings to my own ideas and conditioning, and so ultimately it has been a journey of self discovery. Every day on the road I learn more and more about Indigenous culture and history and every day i ask myself “How is it i do not already know this? Why was i not told this? How come this was not part of my education? If you have asked yourself these question too then we are on the same path. And so it has been successful after all.
 
 
 
 End of October 2011 Tour

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Desert Feet July 2011
16 July 2011

Saturday 25th July
1 day to ETA
Hello friends, patrons and readers. Thank you for joining me on our next adventure. The Desert Feet are about to hit the red earth again and in only hours we will begin the first ever fully commissioned tour, a tour that is partly the result of a request instead of an application, and partly because we don’t like to leave unfinished business. For the latter reason we will head to Port Hedland via Alice Springs! “Alice Springs?” I hear you cry, “How do you get to Port Hedland via Alice Springs?” Well the answer is as outrageous as the statement. You drive through the Gibson Desert! And so that is what we will do. Unable to get to Punmu from the west side of Australia in April, we will come at it from the east, drive out across the sand dunes of Gibson Desert and intersect the old Canning Stock route through to Telfer to visit Kiwirrkurra, Kunawarritji and Punmu on the way to deliver the PA and music equipment that we couldn’t get to them last time.
Arriving, we hope, in Port Hedland on a whim and prayer in time to deliver workshops and concerts for BHP in Warralong, Yandeyarra and Hedland, culminating in a concert for Port Hedland as part of the NAIDOC week celebrations. If that is not enough of a task, I might digress momentarily to put you in the picture, give you a sense of the departing scene at 3 Krugger Place, the suburbanite residence of the Desert Feet army, where noises have ensued into ungodly hours of the night. These are the noises of the Desert Feet team. Noises of preparation, diligence, sleepless determination and multi-tasking volunteers, keeping radical hours to meet the demands of normal work, family and study commitments, supplemented with the extra curricula activity of Desert Feeting. So who comes on a Desert Feet Tour? I mean, who has time to do that? Well its usually people with an overwhelming desire to be a part of an adventure. This type of person is often excited about doing it, but also grateful for the opportunity too, they are conscience of the disparity between the Indigenous and non-Indigenous worlds. It is a desire to help. Anyone that gets excited about visiting remote Aboriginal communities is my guy (or girl), and that’s not everyone’s cup of tea. The elements, like that of a good brew, make the whole flavour; there is the sweetener, the milk and the fine china. The Desert Feet Tour has all the ingredients now it just needs the making. To really make it this trip we have a film crew coming. Sean Crank was an obvious choice; we met in Bali and his mothers training organisation has taken a major role in our project there, with the children we have been schooling for the past 4 years. We were already discussing doing some filming later in the year over there and when I suggested that this trip I might have bitten off more than I could chew, he suggested, make or break, it would make for interesting footage. We quickly added to the team his 2nd cameraman, who just happens to be a Native Canadian Indian lady and his fiancé! (Chantelle is as charming as she is beautiful and we welcome her to the team.) The idea seemed too good to be true, a fortuitous occurrence and a merging of cultures. I love synchronicity! The rest of the team will be the same. Emily Minchin; Secretary, Violist, Tour Coordinator and treasure. She has just about single headedly organised the itinerary, budget and funding while simultaneously finished a degree and practised a Brahms Sonata for a recital 3 days before we left! (all in days work hey Emily) There is our loyal Tony MacDonnell, who we had to pull out of a love affair with a green eyed, blond bombshell from Holland, while on  holiday in Bali to get back on tour, (shows how much he must love me? Or at least the Tour). The dedicated Ewan Buckley, who has now joined the committee and worked tirelessly for 4 days before we left helping us get ready, and a new addition to the team at Ewan’s recommendation, Simon Phillips, a singer-songwriter and music teacher from Melbourne. The rest of the team, Rob Findlay, Brian Lloyd and Candice Dempsey, we will met in Port Hedland in a week, as they had other arrangements for the first part of the tour. The only thing we don’t have yet is the money. A small hitch? But there is no stoping us now and we pull out at 4am tomorrow.

Sunday 26th July  
Day 1
The trip has started well so far, Bella took the opportunity at our first toilet break to roll in a nice, smelly poo, she returned to the truck very proud of her enhanced perfumery, wagging her tail with pride, very eager to share the new improved scent with us all. Consequently, she has been banished to the back of the truck with the music equipment and sea container. She didn’t seem to understand the reason she couldn’t ride in the cab anymore and looked over the tray dejectedly when we fuelled up at Kalgoorlie. I must admit I felt sorry for her, so I bought her a doggy bed from a pet supplies store that happened to be open on a Sunday in the mighty city of Kalgoorlie Boulder! Red Rooster, McDonalds, Chicken Treat, Bunning’s and a huge abundance of Hookers have found a place in the dusty, red outback, metropolis that has sprung up around the biggest hole in the world. The Super Pit, that lines the pockets of the FIFO workers, the residents and those willing to bear the heat, the remoteness and the flies in return for the smell of gold. The gold, that glints in the midday sun like a diamond on a rat, now converted to the material desire of miners and their wife’s, in the shape of big cars, luxury four wheel drives with massive obnoxious wheels and all the glimmering toys that a hard days toil in a gold mine might bring to those that make the trade. But then that’s what life is isn’t it? A trade. A trade off for the hours we give in return for the things we want. Or at least the things we think we need.

And what do you want Damien? Why are you driving into the central desert again with a convoy of vagabonds and excited misfits? For who else would be willing to accompany me on a mission of outrageous propositions. While my relatives applaud with amused scepticism and my sponsors write the cheques with hopeful indifference. Once again we have a program of seemingly impossible distances and once again I ask myself how I ended up with a schedule that looks more like Around The World In 80 Days and reflects a need for super human effort, after all my promises to make it easier next time. I guess that is the nature of the beast.  Or perhaps it’s just this beast in particular (time will tell I guess).

Dinner in Leonora was bleak after a call from the convoy car saying they had a fuel problem and they would have to stay in Kalgoorlie to have it looked at in the morning. A mechanic and accommodation for 4 people are extra costs we don’t need now, especially as the funding hasn’t cleared yet and Tony only had about $600 in cash when we left which was the last of my saving that I had pulled out of an ATM as we drove out of town, not to mention the uncertainly that this throws over the itinerary at such an early stage. It was agreed that we would push on without them, in hope that they will catch up and stay on time, and so, after an anxious bistro meal of dry roast pork and undercooked potatoes, we set off in silence. One good thing so far has been the phone range. I think it is the longest I have ever driven in the Australia outback and maintained coverage, which has kept us off the expensive satellite phone so far. 
Just after Laverton the road turned to gravel all too soon and so we said goodbye to the bitumen already. By the look of the map this will be the single longest dirt road I have ever driven. Our top speed dropped to about 60km/hr, and as the darkness opened a brilliant Milky Way above us, the Goldfields disappeared and the Central Desert closed in around us. After a few hours, the familiar floodway’s and cattle grids marked our progress. We lost a headlight somewhere near Tjukayirla, but determined not to lose time and knowing we wouldn’t see a garage now till near Alice, we pushed on into the central heart like a one eyed pirate truck, fortunately (or unfortunately, I’m not sure) we did not see another vehicle the whole night. Although this is the Great Central Road (yes apparently it’s a Road), and I assume well traversed, there is always some element of anxiety inherent in  driving on gravel tracks.  Not the least because of the obvious nature of them, loose and mostly unmarked, but because time seems to slows down and the miles become a question mark at the begging of each sentence. “Did I miss the turn off, was that a road back there, I must be there by now, where the hell are we?” these are the internal dialogue of the off road driver. And so we drove on for 12 hours we did not see another human or anything other than the endlessness of the corrugations before the single headlight, like a microcosm our world was an infinite jangle over a billion bumps, 10 million an hour? Mean while the poor shitty dog is precariously perched on her new doggy bed like a jack in the box on fast forward. Trying to keep her nose tucked under her tail while bouncing at 90 kilometres an hour, the vibrating canine. Poor doggy dog.
I have to ask how a road this long can be unsealed. Surely the costs to grade it for a few years would be more than sealing it? The mind boggles, how can one of the richest countries in the world still have 1300 km of unsealed Highway?
In the mean time we had got a call from the other car. They had done some research and realised that the fuel consumption was not that bad considering that they had the trailer. I offered to tow it for them if they could catch me and so they decided to head off instead of staying in Kalgoorlie, we decided we would all meet at Warburton.

Monday 25th July  
Day 2
We had to get to Warburton last night, nothing else would be open between Laverton and Alice Springs after 5pm, so we needed to judge it right. We pulled up to a dark road house about 430am, discovered that the toilet at the side was open and even had a hot shower! This was luxury. Clean but tired we decided to grab some rest till the others caught us, however I discovered a notice on the front door of the rickety little fuel station announcing that it would be closed for stock take on the 27th of July. Most people might have seen that as a stroke of bad luck but I found it comical, to have managed to arrive in central Australia in synch with its annual stock take, you can write a book about stuff like that. This meant trouble for the convoy though, if the guys are only getting 600km to a tank, it meant they would need to drive into Laverton to fuel up and fill two jerry cans as well to make it through to Warakurna, a total of about 850km. But when I called them they didn’t answer the satellite phone.  I fell asleep for 2 hours waiting for them to call, they had stayed in Kalgoorlie after all and had only just left! That meant we were nearly 8 hours in front of them and there was nothing to do here so we pressed on to the next roadhouse.

By the time we reached Warakurna roadhouse I had a splitting headache from coffee withdrawals. I hadn’t even had a cup of tea or anything to eat since last night. I was so desperate for coffee that I indulged in some roadhouse instant Nescafe Blend 43 from the little straw satchels, the type you get on planes. It was black, stale, bitter and tasted like corrugated iron but I drank three of them, 4 hard boiled eggs, 5 cheese sticks and an apple, it might as well been a seafood smorgasbord, I was so hungry it didn’t matter.

It cost me $600 for some fuel and a feed! $2.50 a litre for the diesel, but that is half of what we’ll pay out in Telfer. Anyway, the bitumen is within cooee now and we turned back east for the final hike into the Olgas and Ayers Rock. The road became bad pretty quickly out of Warakurna and stayed that way, but some of the scenery was impressive. Warakurna sits at the foot of the Rawlinson Ranges a beautiful and strangely very green outcrop of hills in stark contrast to the desert below. If you could climb to the top of them, behind and to the north you would see the endless sand dunes of the Gibson Desert. For now we took the Sandy Bright Junction Road and cut between the end of the Rawlinson Ranges and the Kathleen Ranges. Along this part of the road the trees and the land reminded me very much of the Martu region around Cotton Creek. But most impressive was the bird life; a huge flocks of bright green tiny finch-looking arthropods did impressive acrobatics in the turbulence of the truck. Several times I thought we would collide with the manoeuvring flock only to see them dart collectively out of the way. It reminded me of a school of fish, how they all seem to move unanimously, as if it was all intricately choreographed in pre flight acrobatics. Their brilliant green feathers glinted like fish scales, and if I didn’t know I was in a truck travelling across the Central Desert I could just as well been in Aqua World as I watched them.

After nearly 24 hours straight, of driving over corrugated gravel roads, just when I was sure I could not take another bump; the Olgas loomed through the bush into view ahead. After being rattled like a can of marbles for so long, they where a site for sore eyes. According to the map, the sealed road starts ahead and thus we would finally be back on bitumen. The Olgas seem out of place, at first I thought they were giant low lying clouds. They are like an alien backdrop to an endless landscape of vast flat and empty scrub. The only thing native about them is the colour. They are the same earth red of the Kimberley’s, the Western Desert and Central Australia, its western face aglow in the afternoon sun like a vast anthill skyscraper. Its ridges on fire in the setting sun amongst a dreary landscape of endless desert. We pulled off the gravel at 4pm and took the road back south to watch the setting sun fall across Uluru arriving just in time for the glorious rock to explode with deep reds under a falling sun. Like a frozen sand dune of cinnamon powder, if you didn’t know it was a rock you would swear it was a dune, etched with silky groves like a colossal bowl of ice cream, smooth scoops missing at its edges as if attached by hungry children with giant spoons from above.
Scores of tourist lined the roads in dozens of air-conditioned coaches snapping photos for the album. And then, like peak hour, the single lane road filled with traffic, it was out an out back traffic jam! Most of the traffic heading for the famous Ayers Rock Resort. We decided to have dinner there, I found a good coffee maker and drank three!

 

Day 3
Tuesday 28th June
Daybreak found us parked on the side of The Todd River. We had pulled another all-nighter and driven through to Alice. Taking advantage of the lack of traffic and the night air which seems to help the truck run a lot better, cooler and faster. I have a lot invested in her making it across the desert, both emotional and financially and aside from praying there is little I can do now but hope she will weather the storm that is brewing, a storm in the shape of another 1500 km of some of the worst gravel roads in Australia, that awaits her. So far she has purred like a cat and as I get to know her with time I am becoming quite attached to her. I added an R on the Hino Badge so it reads RHino now and we have affectionately dubbed her the White Rhino. it’s a polar extreme from my old life on ships at sea, but it holds many comparisons and I can’t help feeling like she is my desert ship. I never understood the whole truckie life style thing ‘til I hit the road like this. It is a freedom but also a bond. You learn your rig and live with it the same way we did on the in the fishing industry. Your living depends on its functionality, so the work is sort of like a by product of the relationship, I guess only a truckie would know what I mean, it’s weird to think that you can have a relationship with a machine, but it’s true. You care for it, clean it, feed it and then it carries you, supports you and houses you.  I remember reading Steinbeck’s ‘Grapes of Wrath’ when I was a kid. The vivid description he gives of the difference between man/animal husbandry and it imposing enemy; machinery and the industrial revolution. He talks about the horse in the stable, how it snorts and calls out all night and how he loved its smell and looked forward to its company and the disparity between its replacement, the tractor and how at night it grew cold and lifeless. Maybe he just didn’t give that tractor enough time? One thing’s for sure, no horse could keep up with my White Rhino!
Any way today’s itinerary would keep me occupied enough and the ongoing problem of money is still upon us. We checked the accounts first thing this morning and they still have not cleared. This is now a real issue for us.  Ewan, Em and Tony have been working for a week now without pay and Ewan has been purchasing stuff on his own credit card. Tony has had to buy all the fuel for the Patrol since Leonora and I have now exhausted my visa card and all my own savings. So we are now officially stranded in Alice Springs. On investigation we discovered there a was problem with the payment and now, best case scenario, we will not have a cent till Thursday. In the mean time I have to shop for the next weeks supplies for 7 people and fuel up for a big run into the desert. The hire car is not insured for off road, plus there is the ever mounting bills owing. It’s getting frustrating, embarrassing and stressful.
Next, I get a call from Tony, the trailer sheered a bolt on the springs and they had to jerry rig a shackle out of fence wire (Tony the bush mechanic, God bless him) now the next issue is how do I put everyone up in  a hotel and feed them for 2 days while we wait  for our other performer to arrive? Then I get a call from Virgin Credit thanking me for my credit card application and telling me its approved?! To which I replied “but I didn’t make a credit card application” and so with some embarrassment they inform me that someone has all my personal details and is going around trying to build a credit empire in my name! I found that pretty funny to be honest, I don’t like credit cards, I have only ever had a Visa debit card and I don’t like borrowing money, I guess that makes me the prefect host for credit card fraud because I have no credit applications. Seems God has a sense of humour. When I laughed, the guy on the phone seemed horrified, “but sir your credit rating could be affected” I said “Oh My God!! what effect will it have on my personality?” But he didn’t get the joke. I just explained to him that I didn’t want a credit rating and don’t use it so feel free to discredit it, delete it, or even blow it up, if you want. (not sure if that was a border line terrorist joke).
So now here’s the real irony. It turns out my father is working for a training organisation in Alice Springs. I have not seen him for some 4 odd years. I’m parked out the front of his door at 6am, in a truck. When he comes out of his house in the morning he finds me parked on his lawn sleeping in the truck like some hobo and when he wakes me up and feeds me I ask him for a loan! What for he asks, to pay for the Desert Feet tour I reply. I don’t think he saw the humour it in either, but he was willing to help and means everything.

There was some delays in getting ready due to the complications of having to get fuel orders and credit authorities to do the shopping.  But we needed a good rest after such an arduous trip and BHP organised us a hotel for the night. In the morning we would only have to pick Simon Phillips and head into the desert.

Day 4
Wednesday 29th June
However, life is never that simple is it?! Simon missed his plane (I never did find out how) and that caused issues all round. I was keen to get moving ASAP, not least because the sooner we are in the desert the less expenses we will have, but because we have already done over 3000km and still haven’t achieved anything. I have this anxious preoccupation with the distances we have to travel, the unknown quantity of it all and the lack of funds. Our budget is already stretched as it is and there is no room for any problems now. Ewan, very conscience of the work load and the reduced numbers, was really pushing to let Simon fly in again on the next plane. Wanting to keep him happy and also aware that Simons assistance would make his huge work load more achievable, I decided to break my golden rule again and split the convoy up. The truck would go out immediately, make the first leg of the big push into the central desert (a drive we anticipated would take up to 6 hours if the roads where ok) Tony would wait with the car pick up Simon in the morning and be out on country in time for the concert tomorrow night, bringing a fridge load of meat for the BBQ (or so we planned anyway)

We saw last of the bitumen about an hour out of Alice and a wide open road of deep mineral red sand yawned before us like a crimson river as we turned West and drove into the falling sun. 6 hours tuned into 9 on the road before the White Rhino pulled into Kiwirrkurra, and although we still haven’t actually played a gig or done a single workshop, a feeling of relief was written on the signpost of Kiwirrkurra, a weight fell from me, out here on the most remote Aboriginal community on earth. Having got this far meant something, and now worst case scenario I would get at least one community workshops and concerts done. But it was more than just that, it’s being back on country. There’s something addictive about the emptiness and space here. Its screaming silence calls you back. It’s the brilliance of the stars, it’s the lethargy of the heat, it’s the honesty of the environment unwilling to lie to you about its brutality yet challenging you to discover her secrets.

Our quarters in the home economics room at the school were really nice, with full cooking facilities and even a heater, yes! It’s cold out here this time of year but we didn’t have much time for celebration, it was 1:30am and we were all shot.

Day 5
Thursday 30th June
I awoke today to the sound of kids laughing, two seconds later the front door was pulled open. In walked the teachers and it was time to get up. I looked at my watch. It was 6am. When the teacher made a joke about us sleeping in, I realised it was still on NT time here. So it was 7:30am for them. That meant we had arrived at 3am and got 4 hours sleep. I was mostly staggering around in the school grounds from exhaustion trying to wake up when several of the kids climbed on me calling my name?! “Ah, I member you from Parnngurr, hey!” said Jerry with his thick Kiwirrkurra accent. (There is a photo of him with a football stuck under his beanie at Cotton Creek in May) Troy, Lyndsey and Kingsley where all here too, some girls I recognised, and a few dogs too that I had seen at the football carnival.

Well this was a cool welcome! As is tradition they came in and ate porridge with us. (Not sure why the kids here like porridge, I’m pretty sure they don’t ever get it.) I met the headmaster and his 3 teachers. Catherine and I had already met by email in a quirky fortuitous introduction some time earlier this year. It happen when we had planned to come out here last time. I had trouble finding a contact for the place and tried all day to reach the community. In the afternoon I gave up. In the morning I had an email from Catherine stating she had heard about the Desert Feet Tour from a friend in Perth and wanted to know if we would be able to come?! When I told her we were planning to that very moment and that I had been trying to reach the community, she nearly fell over dead with her leg in the air, “What? Nobody comes out here.” She sounded confused.
Of course we were not able to at that time because of the floods, thus the compounded sense of achievement, just to arrive here. I was beginning to think I was not meant to come here and the more stories I hear the less the possibility seemed to become. The only other live band to tour here was The Yabu Band, and they broke an axle on the Canning Stock Route and had to leave the trailer in the desert. That adventure was funded by the CANWA who turned us down for funding because of the experience. Thus, further highlighting the difficulties in getting musical equipment out here. However, it seems we got very lucky. Kim (The Headmaster) told me that the locals had stopped taking their cars into Alice because it the road was so bad, instead they were making the 1100km trip into Port Hedland for shopping and town trips. You know the road is bad when the mob out here won’t even use it. We had actually passed the graders party last night, sleeping out just passed Papunya and so we had absolutely freshly graded roads for the first 4 hours. After Kintore they got pretty bad in spots but that was two thirds of the way in, after that there was a few tricky bits, like some holes we hit that nearly stopped the stuck outright. One sounded so bad we stopped to see if the trailer was still there. Amazingly we have lost nothing so far and it seems the path has opened for us with  fortuitous  grace. In fact our timing could not have been better. After the rain and the floods, the road had just been graded all the way to Telfer! So it seems our schedule is now very achievable and our chance for successful completion of this whole project has increased dramatically, failing any major breakdown or accident.

Bobby West is the elder on Kiwirrkurra but he is much more than just that, he is the senior law man for this language group and as such he holds the most political power in the area. Hi is also the son of Jimmy West, the man that brought in the Pintubi 9. Pintubi is the name of the language group here, they are often referred to as the lizard eaters, which was made famous by the book of the same name. The Pitubi 9 where the last Nomadic Aboriginal Australians living in the desert in their traditional way (One of them walked back out there in 2001 never to be seen again). They walked into camp here in 1984. Four of the nine are still alive; 3 women that still live here in Kiwirrkurra, and the elder who is in jail. You may be as amazed as me to discover that in Australia we store our invaluable anthropological wealth in prisons. Have you seen the scene from “The Gods Must Be Crazy”, when they put the Kalahari Bushman in a prison cell? (don’t bother going to the movies, this is the real deal right here in Australia). Can you imagine spending half your life living off the land; the desert, the law, and the dreaming all you ever knew existed; then the other half in a prison cell for crimes you don’t understand? In traditional culture there is no written record. All Law is passed down by the elders during ceremony. The boys only become privy to much of the Law after and during ceremony and many of the language groups out here had several levels of initiation. Our Pintubi Elder locked in a cell would hold information no other man on earth knows. Secrets passed down from thousands of generations, it can never be regained or rediscovered, dug up or found in a cave, it is in his head only and it is soon to be gone. Its existence is like mist of intuition, intangible intelligence, blowing towards the hot coals of  capitalisation to be vaporised before our very eyes. Stand ready Australia! for we will be called to accountability, our children will ask us what we did to save an anthological haven while it was right before us. When I told Tony the story of the Pitubi 9, he was so upset that he wanted to go bust him out of jail. Just as well we were not in Alice, he’s the type that would have done it too and being prone to compulsiveness as I am, I might have even joined him.

Bobby was really good to us, it has been the highlight of all the tours for me so far. His knowledge of the dreaming was profound he knew the story for every ridge, hill and plain. The Hugging Owl rock of Ngaami the ‘cooking  women boulders’, a ridge of stones that looked like just that. He told us the story of Walla Walla and how the water came to be. He showed us where his parents lived on the land before they came in, and took us to the very place they camped during the wet, under a rock ledge full of carvings. He performed a welcomed to country ritual using gum leaves. We paid respect to his forefathers under a hill and he stopped to show us some wild tobacco which he had spotted on a ledge with his keen eye. (He then made his nephew Eric climb the ridge to get it which was pretty funny because later I would learn he gave it to his wife as a present. Seems our traditional Elder is also a bit of a sweet heart too.) Lorna, his wife, is also an amazing artist and is never seen without a wad of this dried tobacco in her mouth. I tried it too, as you would, and was particularly taken by it. I ate it green which bobby told me was not the best, but it gave me a warm sensation all over and made my skin feel like a pin cushion for a while. So I ate some more.

Later we met up with the school out on country. They had been hunting and had several Goanna by the time we got there, which they proceeded to put on the fire and so I got to eat Goanna at long last. Of course, it tastes just like chicken, only much better, gamey and full of flavour. There is a strip of fat on the belly at this time of year, which is the most sought after bit, it is yellow and very rich.
 
I could talk forever about this time with Bobby, but I am always in a rush to write this stuff for the blog. There is never much time spare and its either stay up late while the others are asleep, or get up before them really early to get it done, so I feel like I am rushing all the time. But to conclude this experience and properly translate it seems impossible. Just before Ewan and I were about to set up for the concert Sean asked us with the camera rolling what we thought of the experience. When we were asked to express it we both stared silently into space for a while, then we looked at each other and laughed because that was it, there were no words, it’s just a sense of something greater. And if I had to say what it feels like to be here I would say it’s like a narcotic. I feel sedated and full of love. Both Ewan and I were sort of high, really. I think we just realised that we had just been given a gift of real value, not one from the store that someone bought but something far rarer, something subtle and ephemeral but the indicator of much more, like a peek into a doorway that that was once an open source of light, now just a slither at the end of a corridor. A look into a world upon which the door is closing fast. I think the thing that I feel most about the people here is they know they are connected and thus there is no need to explain it. Their silence and their stillness is the truth.
I just feel so good to be back out here and I just want more than anything on earth to be of use to my fellows. Meeting Bobby again, being treated by the community like old friends, is the real value for me. The rest is just and extra, however now we have to earn our keep and the community is looking forward to a big concert. The office has organised BBQ, the school staff are very keen for some entertainment and the Kiwirrkurra Band are ready to rock!

 

The only dampener on the whole show so far is the funding. Emily got access to the Internet at the office and checked the bank account. We had been categorical promised that the funds would be in there today and that a critical payment had been authorised, but still nothing. This was a real drama now. Even if it went in on Friday like they promised we could not access the money. I would have to transfer it over to my account so I could use my Visa card, which would take another day or two to clear. That would be too late and we needed fuel now, and at $2.50 a litre I was not going to get any change out of $1000. It is getting ludicrous now and I am really desperate. I checked my personal  accounts and I have about $200 in my savings. Emily and I counted up our loose change and that was about $100. I found another $300 in my credit card that I thought was gone already so that would get us a bit of fuel which would get us to Kunawarritji and we have enough food to get to Port Hedland.
 
Earlier up at the shop I had met up with Milton again (captain of the Kiwirrkurra Football team) and soon the boys were all there Eric, Lazarus and Adam (the drummer) plus some new additions to the band I had not met yet; Bobby’s son Tristan playing keys (which is cool), Morris who is a bass player for the Central Desert Band (very popular up this way), and comes from Warburton, and Jin the real singer of the band (that was not in Parnngurr for some reason). Adam played drums for all three bands at the Football Carnival when we met him last time and he is not even from Kiwirrkurra, he is a Punmu boy, but for some reason he is here along with his brother Chris who is a great musician and has a heap of songs he wants recorded too. The guys are really happy to see us, I feel like a long lost brother. Ewan and I are basking in the glory of it! Everyone wants copies of the CD’s we recorded of the Kiwirrkurra band in Cotton Creek, they are like gold, and the boys are super keen to lay some new tracks. Bobby has sent the bus back to Kintore to pick up more people (and apparently another band), and the community is putting on a huge BBQ.
Ewan and I where keen to do an early set-up as we had not powered up the gear since the Sorry Day concert in May, plus it has been rattled along corrugated dusty roads now for some 3500km! But the set up went smoothly, in fact with 2 men down we still had it done, with just the 3 of us, in just over an hour and a half. When Ewan flicked the power on and turned on the music, another concern disoloved (imagine coming out here and your gear not working! You can’t go down the local store and buy a missing cable or some simple item that you just forgot.) Ewan and I built this custom road case for the front-of-house gear, which aside from being the most expensive of all the equipment, is also very labour intensive to set up all the time so I bought a huge steel box on wheels from Supercheap Auto and we fit everything into it with foam and a bit of home engineering. It completely locks up, sealed and dust proof, and means everything is together in one place so we don’t have to load it all out one bit at a time. Once the sea container is on the ground, he just wheels it around to the front, lifts the lid and connects the multi-core. The lid flips back and becomes the desk for his recording station and he stands there with all the buttons and lights flashing like an airline pilot. It is his pride and joy now. Emily and I played a pretty mellow set as a duet but we got the kids up dancing with the help of lots of cool giveaways and prizes, Ewan got up and did a solo set (did I tell you he is a musician too?) Oh yeh! Ewan can sing and play. (When we got back to Perth after last tour, Ewan invited us to come and see his Band play. Tony and I decided to stop in and have a look. We thought “Yeh, let’s support him, he is a great guy.” We were there for him not out of any expectation but then the guy gets up and starts belting out these epic original rock songs at the top of his lungs like Eddie Vedder. The whole place just falls silent! The song stops, there is a pause as people take it in, then the little audience that had been sitting casually around on the Velvet Lounge couches explodes with applause! Tony and I look at each other lost for words. All the sudden I realise that I have just spent 4 weeks on the road with the next Jeff Buckley, who has been modestly posing as our sound engineer. That’s true humility. Never once in four weeks did he talk about his own skills or ability, he came with us as an engineer not a performer and he never asked to perform?! Yet he is better then any of us!
As yet there is still no sign of the other vehicle. By about 6pm I had tried them on the sat phone a few times but nothing?!
In the mean time its now Kiwirrkurra Bands turn to get up and play and the community were really looking forward to it. Everyone was there, even Booby with his wife Lorna, and so began the desert reggae sound, chiming out its off beat rhythms very appropriately, booming across the desert plains, to the desert children, who danced in the dust under a trillion candle milky way on a basketball court in the middle of Australia. I felt like I was home at last.
These bands out here are pretty fluid and interchangeable as far as the members go. It’s mostly a case of who is around, I think. They are really interesting to watch because they sort of communicate without really talking at all. Its not like going to the pub and watching a band play songs from start to finish through a set list. It seems like they are making it up as they go sometimes. Then, at the end of a song there will be a little interlude where some musical ideas spring out of their various instruments, It seems like they are just hunting around for a key, then when they get it they all just play and fall into place. Then at the end of the next song it starts again, there is this orchestration of noises and ideas and false starts, opposing riffs, meandering scales and almost working concepts that suddenly just jump into full swing. Next thing you know you are listening to the next song. Sometimes it might sound so much like the last one that it seems the same song has been played for 20 minutes, until some one changes something and then off it goes again but at the base of them there is always the same feel, and I don’t know any other way to explain it other then ‘Desert Reggae.’ It really is their own genre of music and it really is like nothing else.
The night was a great success Ewan, Em and I cannot stop smiling. You would think we had fallen in a vat of happy juice. The kids are climbing all over us, every man women and child is dancing and it’s happy days all round. The only other thing to report for the night is that Tony and Simon finally arrived safely some time during the concert. The Patrol pulled up next to the stage. I was watching from a distance. Simon popped his door open and stepped out onto the red dirt. Just as his foot hit the ground, a kid ran at him full pace and jumped into his arms like a long lost son, buried his head into his chest and hugged him. For a second I thought, “Oh, they must know him”, then I remembered that was not possible. His first second on country was initiated by love. Two seconds later Bobby and Lorna walked up to him and welcomed them to their community as if they where royalty. I don’t remember telling Bobby they were coming but I guess he figured they were with me. Simon and Tony have never been here before in their life, but they will always be welcome here now.
 
Day 6
Friday 1st July
We checked the accounts again first thing but still no money! So I did the only thing left I could think of, I transferred money out of my self managed super fund into my card. I really hope no one from the ATO reads this, or I guess I’ll get into trouble. Anyway, I did what I had to do to get us to Port Hedland. Right now that is all that matters. When I fuelled up the two vehicles, it came to $800. I will have to do that again tomorrow too. But the office girl over heard Emily and I talking about the problem and offered to invoice us for the account. That saved us some money for now and we were really grateful to her for her generosity. People are so trusting out in the country but that doesn’t help the fact that I still feel like a bit of a dill. Its just bad management on my part.
 
We will do another concert here tonight so there was no need to pack the truck away completely last night, which saved us lots of time. We just threw a tarp over the stage and put away the electrical stuff so it doesn’t get damp. We got up early to get ready for some workshops with the school today and we sat around the breakfast table writing a song for the kids to play. Workshops are fun and I have written a lot about them in the past so I wont bore you with the details again here. However, if you are reading this for the first time you can go to YouTube and type in Desert Feet Tour, there are several videos on that page, it has much more informative than I could give you now anyway. We are running a short crew for the first part of the trip. I don’t have Bryte MC (hip hop) or Candice (music teacher from Abmusic) till we get to Port Hedland, but we will just focus on doing a song writing workshop and get the kids to write the lyrics and sing the songs with us. There are many examples of these recording on our web site too if you want to have a look go to www.vow.org.au and click on music player.
 
The school was small, about 20 kids. Which was very manageable. We had a lot of the community come too as there has been a lot of hype this trip. It was funny ‘cause the whole room was full and I think we had more adults than kids. Later, Fiona from the women’s centre told me she was outside listening with some of the women. The song must have gone down well because thy all wanted copies of it. The teachers here have just been so nice to us. Jim has made us feel so welcome and spent a lot of time talking with us and telling us about the area and stories of his experiences out here. People that these remote communities attract are always interesting but Kim is exceptional. Sometimes teachers will take jobs in remote communities straight out of University because they just want to get a few years experience or a better posting. But mostly you meet people like Kim, who is really interested in the people, has made an effort to learn the language and understand the culture. One thing he said really stuck with me, “its us that need to learn Damien.” He explained to me how misunderstood the culture is. “We forget, Damien, that English is not a second language out here, it is a foreign language. How can you deliver a curriculum in a foreign language and expect people to learn it? If you came to school and couldn’t understand anything, you would not want to come either!” Kim had much insight but admitted that most of the information delivered inside school was of little value to the Pintubi. He used the example of time. “In school we learn to tell time, what the days of the month and week are and this becomes the basis for much of our western ideas. However, to a Pintubi, time is of no relevance. One of his older students had been coming to school for 4 years and could not tell the time because the concept held no interest to him. The same kid could play guitar, keyboard and was great at football. “He lives purely in the moment, yet to meet western academic ideals of education, not being able to read a clock means he has been held back a grade twice.”
 
Kim the headmaster flew out in the morning but I had the opportunity to talk with him for a while at the concert last night. Another remarkable person, he had been a part of the first expedition to circumnavigate the Arctic Circle, however, the venture went broke and he was left stranded there for months, where he lived amongst the indigenous people there! He had developed a keen interest in indigenous culture after living and working with the Aboriginal people in the Gulf of Carpentaria in the 70’s. At that time they still lived in almost complete isolation, and he told me of stories from the days before I was born. How he went from geologist to explorer to school teacher I forgot to ask. He recounted one story from the Pintubi people that I just have to relate. It was about one of the locals who had walked from Kiwirrkurra to Warrakurna. You might remember that is the place I mentioned above, we fuelled up there behind the ranges which meet the Gibson Desert. Kim told me that he had set off without water because there were several holes he was familiar with, but the first was empty! The next was a day away and the camels had fouled it. The next was dry too. The story goes that he walked the whole 6 days to Warrakurna without water, just chewing plants and shrubs and the odd bit of desert food. When Kim asked him, “How do you live in the desert without water?” He shrugged his shoulders nonchalantly and said, “You just walk happy.”
Mind you, this is the same man that walks to Papunya every year, a trip that takes him 3 months in the desert.
 
Back at the open basketball court on a stained and red concrete slab in the open desert air, the Desert Feet Tour reassembled the transformer truck back into the shape of a stage under the stars of heaven. Optimus Prime, eat your heart out, the White Rhino is an 8 tonne, 4x4 truck by day, but at nights she is the desert theatre. Bobby had sent the bus back to Kintore again today and this time it came back with not only more people but the Kintore Band. The boys where very keen to get some recording done too, the word must have spread far and wide. Tony had the meat and sausages that we didn’t eat last night, and so we had another massive cook up. Simon kicked off the set and amazed us with some really fancy skills, the guy plays a tambourine with his right foot, a stomp box with his left, with a spoon strapped onto his toes, then he plays the bass line the rhythm and the melody on an acoustic guitar, sings like an angel and never misses a beat!  The guy is insanely good. He spent his childhood playing flamenco then studied Jaz guitar at the Con’ he can literally play anything you ask him to. You know someone is really good when they play originals like they are famous radio hits. The night was a cracker and I am so glad that it is all being captured on film too. It is just great having Sean and Chantelle along; they are so keen right into it, plus they are just so nice. Chantelle is the sweetest person I have ever met and her and Sean make the most gorgeous couple. They are obviously in love and the energy they have on the group is very positive. They are quiet, unassuming and reserved but kind, generous, thoughtful and never stop smiling. They love their work and huddle in the corner for hours editing film and photos, cleaning, prepping and working on their equipment, which is state of the art and highly professional. I sure tripped over a real winner meeting them and am so glad they are here on tour.
It was a good turnout for the night and Bobby and Lorna took the front row seats again. Some of the older women got up and danced, and I had a great chat with a couple of the teachers’ aides, who mentioned that they really enjoyed our workshop with the kids. It is really rare to get compliments like that and even rarer to talk much with any of the women, so I felt really privileged. Then after I played, Bobby himself called me over to tell me he liked our music! I think that was the pinnacle of my musical career so far, and I can safely die satisfied now. (But I probably wont just yet). I have asked him if the Kiwirrkurra Band can come on tour with us over to Kunawarritji tomorrow and then on to Punmu, they seem keen to do it. Bobby said they could use Lorna’s old 60 series Land Cruiser, and when I looked at her for confirmation she nodded then told me her feet where cold, so I fetched a rug for her old, bare, dusty desert feet and covered them for her. Then she gave me a cup of water from her bottle and offered me some of her chewing tobacco from her mouth, which I politely declined. I sat with her in silence watching the concert and the people dance their crazy desert style dance for the rest of the night.  Our PA system calling out to the vast emptiness, literally a cry in the night, while the chirping crickets and the rolling Spinifex crowded in around the edges of our sound, but even the loudest of noises out here is futile, can’t effect the supreme silence that eventually owns us all and even the heavy beats of the Desert Feet Tour are infantile under her domain. A feeling of lightness came over me and I could sense that all around me was connected and somewhere in the desert I came home at last.
                                                                                                                                                                               
Day 7
Saturday 2nd July
I set the alarm on my phone for 6am and when it went off I felt like I had not slept for one second. I didn’t wake the others but the noise of putting on the coffee and the porridge got a few of them up.  After 3 attempts to wake Tony didn’t work I took him out coffee and set it under his nose. Then I started the truck to warm her up. We had packed everything except our personal gear so all we had to do was roll up our swags and load the car but as I was checking the oil it struck me as odd that it was not getting light yet. Back in the kitchen we sat foggy eyed around our cups of hot coffee, packed and ready to go, when someone noticed the clock on the oven said 4:30am. It was then that I realised my phone clock was wrong. “What are doing up a 4:30am Damien?” Tony asked with annoyance. “Ops” I had got up an hour an half earlier than I meant to, still a bit confused by NT time, no wonder I felt so tired. The guys where good enough to laugh at the outrageousness of it all and we decided we might as well take advantage of an early start, so we fell into the vehicles and set off into the red roads ahead.
 
Just out of Kiwirrkurra, we passed thought the famous sand dunes of the Gibson Desert and the road wound and snaked through the path of least resistance, which caused our pace to be reduced considerably. I picked up some pretty bad vibrations in the steering and the pump is starting to whine now too, which doesn’t surprise me too much, but is a bit of a worry. It was a worthwhile trip to Kunawarritji, and the landscape was really phenomenal. However, it was another 6 hour push into the desert and it was midday before we arrived at the tiny and remote Kunawarritji.
 
Lynn is the teacher at the RAWA School, a lovely and obliging English lady. She has been here 4 months and found the job in a newspaper while in Sydney. The job needed a qualified teacher with a partner or spouse that could do handyman work and would be willing to live in a remote area. Lynn’s little posting was a dream job for the like minded. She had her own school; all of 7 kids and a nice little house. She is basically the head mistress, teacher and community liaison officer all in one. Her husband is the grounds man, the maintenance man and mechanic. She said she just couldn’t believe they had to advertise for a job like this, she thought people would kill for such a great job and they are the happiest they have ever been. Their hospitality was second to none, they put on a huge BBQ for the concert and made cups of tea and organised all our accommodation. Kunawarritji is only a small community, but a small business has sprung up there to cater for the gray nomads crossing the Canning Stock Route or passing through the centre on the Tanami Track. Graham the owner of the little store and some hotel rooms there has a made a living from fixing cars that break down out here. The night that we stayed, there were two other campers that had their cars in, waiting for parts to arrive. He told me they get a semi through once every 3 months (if the road is open), which costs $9000, and that’s before they put anything on it! He does a road trip in his Ute to Pupunya store once every fortnight for fresh vegetables. Other than that, they are at the backwater of the world. Needless to say they don’t get too much live music let alone a touring convoy of bands!
 
We did a workshop at the school for the 7 kids in the afternoon, which Simon handled with ease. We ran it on the lawn in front the stage before the concert. We had a quaint mix of local residents from the community, an assortment of grey nomads and the shop owners, who watched and encouraged the kids from the side. The kids got right into it and sang loudly for their proud parents and the onlookers. We played a concert in one of the most remote locations on earth to an accidental but grateful audience. Just after dark, the Kiwirrkurra boys showed up as promised in Lorna’s 60 Series, with their keyboard, ready to rock. They took the stage after Em and I had played and I had the most charming night talking with some of the travellers. I met people from all over Australia. Kylie was on her university break and had decided to join her mum and dad for a week on the road, only to break down in the middle of nowhere. She couldn’t believe it when a graffiti painted truck rolled in and set up a stage for a concert. She was so happy to have a bit of peer company, that she joined us in the workshops too. Turns out she plays the piano and reads music. The highlight of the night was getting the kids up to perform their song with the Kiwirrkurra Band, which Ewan recorded. It was hilarious, the kids loved it and it was an experience they will never forget, nor any of us for that matter.
 
To top it off, Emily checked the account on the schools internet connection and at long last the money is in! Not that we will be able to even access it now till Port Hedland, the next nearest bank is only about 1100km from here. However we can set up the transfers for the wages to my poor (laterally) performers. My next problem is the steering box on the truck; it is beginning to whine badly and looks like I have blown a seal. It is spraying oil down the side of truck onto the trailer.
 
 
Day 8
Sunday 3rd July
We had a bit of a sleep in today which the crew needed pretty badly. I have pushed pretty hard to meet the schedule so far and the guys are a great team, but i don’t want to take it for granted. Spirits remain high so far. And the success of this tour is not a destination. I have no idea what it even look like really but success is just in each moment and completion of our task ahead depends on those little victories. Victorious moments are the bricks of triumph. The Desert Feet House is a building with out any real blueprints. That’s how I feel most of the time out here; there is no instruction manual for how to run music workshops and concert in remote communities. I’m just making it up as we go along. Keeping a stiff upper lip in front of the team. Making light-hearted jokes when things seem serious. Getting the porridge made for 13 people in the morning, getting the crew ready to roll, making coffee. And every second the truck keeps moving, every time that I hear laughter, every time someone smiles, every time we finish a concert, or we do a workshop, or we set up and it everything works, or we put it all away again and we do it faster than the last time, or I play a song and someone claps! These are the victories of the Desert Feet Tour and that is my measure of its success.
Soon we’re in convoy again, the truck and trailer, the Patrol and the Kiwirrkurra boys in Lorna’s Land Cruiser. Punmu is our last central Desert location and the end of the first leg of the Tour. We will meet up with the Ryder Loxton from the Lakeside Band and the footy team that we came to know so well in Parnngurr. I am very keen to see if Bobby will let the Kiwirrkurra boys come right through with us to Yadiyarra, Waralong and the big final concert in Port Hedland. But it raises a few issues that I can’t get my head around yet. Like, how do I feed another 5 guys for another week plus fuel and accommodation? I have decided to give Newcrest, BHP and the Martu Trust a call from Punmu and see if I can get some support for the idea before I ask the guys if they want to come. I know they will, because what musician on earth would say no to going on tour, let alone playing at a big concert with a famous headline act like Mary G on the bill. Mary G is big out here because he broadcasts the Mary G show to all these remote communities every Wednesday night. He has been doing it for 21 years! And never misses a show, no matter where he is in the world. If you haven’t heard Mary G, tune into Noongar radio on a Wednesday night. Personally, I think he is the funniest radio host in Australia. Professionally, he is well recognised overseas, as unfortunately seems to be the case with a lot of Indigenous performers. His live concerts are gut wrenchingly funny. Em and I watched him play in Perth at His Majesty’s Theatre, and were in tears, I have not laughed so much since I saw ‘The Party’ with Peter Sellers when I was 10. He could be described as the Indigenous equivalent of Dame Edna Everage, but far funnier. I believe he is comic genius and seriously under-recognised in Australia. This will be the first time I have had the opportunity to play with him and I am really excited about it. 
 
The drive to Punmu was mostly uneventful (which is really good) my steering box is rattling but as long as I keep the fluid up it should hold out ok. We pulled in it was about 2pm. So we bumped into the workers quarters, and fed and watered the crew. Ryder was waiting for us in the street and showed us to our lodgings. Most of the Punmu footy team (and consequently the Lakeside Band) are away at a footy carnival in Roebourne. But Kerwin and Kingie came up to meet us. It was a warm reception and Chantelle laughed at us as everywhere we go people keep talking about that Footy Carnival. John the CEO here was really good to us. The community got right behind the event and put up the meat for the BBQ. Mike the local CDP worker here offered to cover all of Ryder’s travel costs if we would take him on tour with us and get him to Perth and enroled into Abmusic. Kerwin took me over to meet Milton, the Elder for this area. Milton remembered us from last time we came here in 2009 and was really happy to see us. I asked him for permission to be ‘on country’ and thanked him for inviting us out here. There was Sorry Business on the football oval and he asked me to make sure my guys stayed away from the grieving. He pointed with a crooked and calloused old finger towards the ridges to the west. “Law is being practiced out there” he swept the horizon with an arm of authority and an invisible fence rose up to meet the arch of his gesturing hand. It’s power absolute. “Don’t go West”, he said, “Punmu welcomes you and other than that you are welcome to go anywhere on country.” That included any of the sacred water holes and the famous Punmu Hill. Punmu hill is the dreamtime home of the Eagle. Women that go there receive the child spirit and so it has become know as a place of fertility. I have heard stories of people going up there if they are having trouble falling pregnant.
 
There were about 50 people at the concert that night and maybe another 20 kids. That would be about the entire population most of Punmu most of the time. It was enough for a really fun night. There were several workers that came along too, the schoolteachers, the HACC workers and the CDP people. The Kiwirrkurra Band learnt Ryder’s song ‘Lonely Boy’ so that he could play it live for the community and that went down well. Emily and I did a duet set that seemed well received and Simon mesmerised us all in his usual manner. If you happened to be passing by while Simon Phillips is playing your destination is forgotten. He is the most invoking performer I have seen. His songs are full of intriguing melody, intricate arrangements and colourful stories.

As always the Kiwirrkurra boys played till late; they never get tired of performing, they absolutely love it. Ewan has become really close with the Kiwirrkurra boys and seems to have an inexhaustible enthusiasm for recording and working on their music. It is like a dream come true for the guys, he has recorded and mixed over 15 hours of live music for them and every spare second he gets he is locked in a room with them or bent over that big orange road case pressing his magic dials and mixing his musical potions of engineered ear food. I think he is the only person I have met that has more energy than me, and he is definitely drawing on a different source than others.  His belief in the Desert Feet Tour and our project, his unquenchable thirst for culture and country and his obvious love of the people out here inspires me. He is really marching to the beat of an unheard drum.
When we came home Tony had a huge pot of stew ready for dinner. We all packed into the lounge and kitchen a cultural smorgasbord; full blood desert mob, a bunch of whities from all ends of the earth and a Canadian Indian. 17 of us in all now. The boys chattered in language and shared jokes in broken English, while we bantered and kidded, trying to translate our humour into simple English for the boys. Sometimes they seemed to get it, or perhaps they found some other funniness in the situation.  Regardless one thing was sure, there were two very different worlds sharing one common emotion, happiness and the laughter it ensued. Whatever was translated, or lost in translation, was overcome with our one common language, music. So after dinner the guitars passed between hands along with hot cups of coffee and tea, Simon’s Hawaiian ukulele twanged out desert reggae riffs while the strings of my Cole Clark sang harmonies to the high pitched wail of Jins Pintubi language songs, and we all took turns singing while another improvised to it. Meanwhile, Ewan stared out of blank, red, exhausted eyes, delirious with happiness, too tired even fetch his swag, so I made his bed for up for him and I watched him crawl in nearly unconscious after 6 hours straight of standing at that mixing desk. The last thing he said before he fell instantly asleep was “Thank you Damien.” Ewan has not been paid yet, has used his own visa card to help pay our shortfall and has not had a moment to himself since we left. Everywhere we go he is constantly asked for more of “those Kiwirrkurra CD’s” and his computer has been cooking up playlists from previous recordings non-stop. Never before has anyone thanked me for working them to exhaustion.

Day 9
Monday 4th July
A good sleep in was needed and with nothing on the agenda except some recording worshops and a trip out country at some stage of the day, the crew roused slowly. I made the porridge and coffee but left it to simmer on the stove and just let them wake up as they needed to. I sat out the back writing the blog for some time until Kerwin showed up in an old Land Cruiser, he wanted to take us on a guided tour so we piled in to the two cars. I was wondering how this trip would turn out, as his car had no windscreen, amongst other things, but Kerwin didn’t seem to be concerned, so I thought it best just to trust. However as we went to leave a very suspicious sound emerged from the gearbox and although the motor continued to run, the car would move no further. So far, we had gotten to the front driveway and that was a good start I suppose. The issues caused a small commotion and some other locals had a lengthy discussion that I could not understand. But the outcome resulted in several men pushing the car back to its original and probably final resting spot at the front of the house next door. Our options being considerably reduced, we piled into the Patrol, all 9 of us. It was a little squashy, which was further exacerbated by the discovery about a mile out of camp that Bella was running behind the car. So we let her in too. A fine site we must have made; a carload of whities, packed to bursting, hanging out the windows with their dogs and swags, driving around a Remote  Aboriginal Community. You’ve go to wonder about irony some times.
Kerwin was a good tour guide and it was really interesting to hear about law and dreamtime from the younger guys this time. Kerwin and Ryder both talked a lot about law and their initiation. Soon they would both partake in what they called the ‘hard law’. They spoke of it with pride but also with hesitation. Hard law involves excommunication from the community for a period of time. They would have to survive in the desert for 6 months on their own with no help from the camp, “With no shoes” added Ryder proudly. Kerwin took us to the sacred brine pools. He explained that these little rock holes (about 4 in all) held water all year, “They are magical,” he explained, “because they can heal.” The site has been used for healing for as long as can be remembered. Often those with wounds would soak in the briny solution and this would always aid the healing. A mixture of the ash from a small trees that borders the lake is often used to form a paste with the brine. The concoction is known to have powerful healing powers and is used for ceremony and medicine.
The guys showed us several of the 15 water holes of the area. They are remarkable in the sense that each one was an oasis in itself in a sea of endless desert and white, crusted salt lakes. They all emerge from the earth’s ground water but are practically invisible until you are right upon them. In some cases, they are so small they could only afford access to a single mouth, but one was like a miniature haven with a grassy verge and trees. All it needed was a date palm and it could have been a scene from a movie.  The lake here is the site of a huge battle between a goanna and a snake. The dreaming beings died locked in battle, and so the shape of this massive rock formation is explained, in the centre of Punmu’s salt lake. This salt lake looks like a snowfield, only it is literally its polar opposite. It is pure white and caked with a hard crust of salt, which once broken exposes a deep red mud, it’s beautiful in a barren and foreboding sort of way. But it’s amazing to think that this salty land of brine is home to life-giving fresh water if you know where to look.
The highlight for me was the discussion on kinship. I remember a lecture once about how anthropologists were very impressed with Australian Aboriginal matrimony systems. What they call kinship lines, is a system of marriage that keep the skin groups clean and prevented interbreeding for thousands of years. The lines move in a basic box shape arrangement but are highly complex on the larger scale. The fundamentals of it are that one skin can move laterally along this pattern but not horizontally and visa versa for the opposing skin group. Kerwin explained that the skin groups for this area are Karimauda – Jungula and Burungu – Milanka. So in this case Karimauda can marry Jungula but not any other way across the grid, however what is really interesting is that the Burungu skin group is then a maternal relationship, (all Burugu are parents to any Karimanuda child and vis vera), and the Karimulda – Milanka relationship is then an uncle/ aunty paternal relationship, regardless of the directness of the blood. In this manner a boy has many fathers from which he can learn the law and must be respectful of and many mothers which can tell him what to do (the women bring up the children) and of which he can not disobey. An uncle or an aunty is always obliged to provide shelter and food and so a child is always cared for. (It is common to hear a boy here call several women Mum.) It is an ancient and intricate system of balance that has held a people in complete and absolute perfect harmony with their surrounds and environment for 45,000 years. When anthropologists discovered the Balinese irrigation systems they marvelled at the complexity of the engineering, it was considered a feat of mathematical genius, and one of the wonders of the world. The same can be said for our indigenous inheritance. From an anthropological point of view, our indigenous peoples kinship laws are among the wonders of the ancient world too. It is something we can be proud to know about and it still lives very strongly out here. Considering that there were as many as 500 skin groups you can imagine how complex this system must have been. Each skin group held its own language and each corresponding skin group had to know the language of at least the other four that surrounded it. Some early counts of indigenous people accredited aboriginal men with speaking up to 7 different languages.

Kerwin is also super football player. He has played two seasons with the colts and is seriously being looked at for league selection. I watched him play at the Western Derby earlier this season at the Subiaco grounds. But he is also next in line for the Law. He is torn between two worlds. The call of professional football career and his place as the next Elder for Punmu.  His English is exceptionally good and he is the perfect gentleman. When he speaks his eyes are always cast downwards but his manner is never submissive, just respectful. He has a wiry little frame but takes a wide stance with his hands crossed behind his back, he looks like the quintessential footballer but he is a true Martu man, from a long line of desert People, his ancestry is old and strong. As he speaks, Ryder listens intently. Ryder was in the same position as Kerwin about 3 years ago, but a tragic car accident stole his fine motor skills. Kerwin spoke briefly of this incident. It was a family member that was driving drunk while Ryder was in the back. The uncle was punished by law for causing the accident. They both called it ‘pay back’ as if it was the obvious, but neither of them could be drawn into the discussion on how it is executed, no matter how hard we pressed for an answer. The subject was taboo and both the boys looked blankly out across the lake. The conversation was finished. As was the incident, done and forgotten, resolved without regret, blame or resentment. That’s just how it is. That’s the law. The incident, the punishment, then its finished with and life goes on.

Day 10
Tuesday 5th July
I’m at a Telstra phone box. The housing has graffiti across the front which says “Punmu Boys Rule”, an old, greasy, dirt encrusted cage shelter offers some shade but only at a 45 degree angle. The sun steals my energy like an oxygen thief. I look down at my feet, my RM Williams are caked with red mud and the toes are frayed through to the leather underneath the shoe polish, the ground is the desert red sand that reaches out past my eyes perimeter, it’s the phone box at the end of the world. The wind has swept the dusty sand into silty ridges around the empty wrappers of phone cards that lay discarded in multitudes. Behind me lies Lake Dora. Flooded now with her disappointing brine, useless to all but the traitor of many a thirsty eye. Like a glistening illusion on the horizon it has fooled many an explorer, like the aptly named Lake Disappointment further to the south, only a smaller version. Its white crust is a glaring reflector like a desert solar panel.  The hand piece of the phone is greasy and when I place it back in the rack my fingers stick together like spilt coke. The words of my last conversation hang heavy in my mind. I have a decision to make now. I cannot find any further funding at such short notice to take the Kiwirrkurra Band on the rest of the Tour. If I do it, it’s at our own expense. Newcrest have offered to pay some fuel costs, but have indicated that there is too little planning and the risks are too high for anything more. In fact, I have been advised against it. “If something happens to the boys while they are on tour with you, Damien, you will be held responsible, and the community will see it that way too. If you take the guys to town and they hit the grog and get in trouble, you’ll be responsible.” Newcrest also mentioned that I’ll be expected to get them home too, a cost I had not factored into any budget, and a time issue that I could not see a solution to either. All of a sudden, the enormity of the cultural gap yawned before me. The void of difference between our worlds was a chasm of fear at my feet. Am I an over zealous do-gooder that would cause harm with his good intention? Am I just jeopardising the wellbeing of others for my own ambitious desire? Have I bitten off more than I can chew, has my audacious luck finally dried up? Self-doubt crushed me as I fell back onto the old tractor tyre that served as the Telstra bench at the phone booth at the end of the world. My pride poo-pooed the naysayers, but my fear crippled me. I could drive out of this community with or without the boys.
This is the Desert Feet Tour; our job is to expose indigenous talent, to create employment and performance opportunities for remote and isolated musicians. If I walked away from this chance, then have I failed to walk my own talk? If I take the chance and fail, will I lose all credibility with my sponsors for good? Would it ruin the Desert Feet Tour full stop? Was it better to just stick to the plan? I needed council.
Tony heard me out in full; the sun beat on my black hat while he listened with squinted eyes. Then he was silent for a while. He looked at me and said “Damien, if you do not take this opportunity because you are worried about money you will never forgive yourself. Just follow your heart, the rest will manifest.” 

Six hours later when we pulled into Marble Bar, the boys were there, waiting for us at the roadhouse, their beat up 60 Series looking worse for wear. “God, I hope that thing keeps going” I thought to myself.  All smiles and waving furiously the guys greeted us excitedly. The tour had begun in earnest. They followed us down to Chinaman’s Pool and we pulled out the guitars, threw two huge roasts into a camp oven and filled the billy with coffee. The rainbow serpent lives here and if the wind changes the snake would smell them and take them while they slept. So they refused to stay, but they agreed to rest a while. (the roast had some influence in the decisions) Ryder had an uncle here and two of the boys disappeared for a while to seek accommodation. I unpacked the guitars from the cases and song burst out like fire. Soon the flames danced in time to our joviality and as I searched the fire lit faces, framed against the blackness of the night, I realised we had stumbled into a situation of great significance,  we were not just on tour with a bunch of able musicians, we were the participants to the birth of something else. A friendship built on a common interest; music and discovery; culture and respect. I asked myself where this little impromptu journey would lead. What would this spontaneous association and quirk of fate result in for each of us around this fire? Where would we all be, five years from now, this group of eclectics that providence has cast together? Each of my crew here on the Desert Feet Tour has a different reason to be here, some of us are seeking adventure, some a lucky break, for some it is just about healing, for me its reconciliation. But for the Kiwirrkurra boys it’s about music. After all is done and said, when the curtain comes down and the ashes of this fire grow cold and blow away, it is only the friendships we have built that will remain, that are of any value. To form long-lasting and meaningful relationships; is that not what life is for? It is a path that can be veiled, obstructed and hindered but never broken, like a bridge that passes over our limited and finite humanness, a bridge across worlds. The bridge of love.
The Kiwirrkurra boys are in need of nothing, their bond is filial and therefore they have all that life can give in each other, this is the law and the land made it this way. We look like the bearers of the gifts, the bringers of technology, industry and might, of information and law. But the real gift is here already, waiting for thousands of years. It can’t be learnt by a western mind, it can only be unlearnt.
Ultimately, I do not presume to understand what is happening here, I have some ideas but I don’t trust them.  I feel the guys see the skill and ability of the Desert Feet Musicians as an opportunity to expand their knowledge, the idea of playing concerts defiantly excites them too, but their skill set is stand alone; something to be admired. They play by ear, have no theory, nor could they tell you what they are playing, they simply strike up a feel, search for the key and then all join in, that is how they do it around the camp fire, exactly as they do it live in front of an audience on the stage. Fearless musical energy from the heart, without self consciousness or ego, like leafs falling to the earth, their music is an autumn song. A note to fit here, a word there, a rhythm that just comes from within. I almost fear to teach them anything lest we destroy the beauty that exists.
 I search the sky for answers. The fire burns bright. Big white smiles in the dark night, wild frizzy hair and thickly accented words of economy. Offset by pink faces reflecting the flames, the chatter of western extroversion and comical pursuit. Our intellect hides our ignorance, we assume we know.............but it’s what we don’t know that is the problem. These guys don’t talk much, but when they do it has meaning, we talk all the time and say nothing most of the time. We feel obliged to respond. These guys feel no need to respond and often don’t even need to be facing the person they are talking to. There is great economy in this. They never waste energy, there is great strength in the way they treat each other. They are my heroes.
Musically, this could be the birth of a new and popular band. This could be the beginning of a career for these guys. But even the advantage of that, I have to question, would that even be of benefit and if so, or if not, who am I to judge? But something has begun out here, in the desert. Truth be known, I don’t know what, but time will tell.

When the roast was retrieved from the hot coals and the cast iron oven was opened, a feast fit for Kings was dished out on paper plates, a shortage of cups filled jam jars and plastic containers with tea from the black charred billy and in the flickering light, the 13 of us shared the hungry complement of silent mastication while the cows called out somewhere beyond the shadows and the cold night closed in on our circle of warmth.
As the boys walked off into the darkness I wondered if I would see them tomorrow. Travelling on tour together though remote dry communities was worlds apart from hanging out in town. Then as an afterthought I yelled out, “hey guys we roll out at 9 so be here early” I heard a vague acknowledgement from the darkness drowned out by the wind and then the old Landcrusier croaked into life and limped up the track, its headlights the only measure of a world beyond our camp fire, till they took the bend and turned out of view, swallowed by the desert from which they came.

Day 11
Wednesday 6th July
The Kiwirrkurra boys pulled back into camp before we had even gotten up. They are keen that’s for sure, my concerns were all proven hollow. I woke up to find them happy and joking around the fire while Tony boiled coffee. The massive pot of porridge went on the hot coals and we woke slowly from a smoky slumber as the fire rekindled our warmth. If I’ve done nothing else in my life I think I can take credit for introducing a healthy breakfast to everyone that comes on tour. Slow cooked oats in the morning is the best way to start the day and everyone seems to love it. Chantelle tells me she is converted now for life, and both Sean and her have become fans of using honey instead of sugar too, which is what I like to do, on my porridge in my tea and in my coffee.

This weather is hurting us a bit, my lips are chapped and the cold has exacerbated the flu that a few of the guys have picked up. There are a few rattly chests and all of us have sniffily noses now. Still it was nice to camp out last night and have a night off from setting up the truck or having to perform. The excitement of the Kiwirrkurra boys and their obvious enjoyment of being on tour is all the payment I need now and ever so slowly as they let their inhibitions fall away, we get to know them a little more each day.

We headed for Port Hedland in a relaxed manner. I’m in no particular rush to get there because I still have a fear (seeded by the conversation with Newcrest earlier) that I might lose the boys to the big smoke, the pull of the city lights and the availability of grog, is playing on my mind a bit. I feel a huge inner conflict over these feeling as I am aware they are adults with their own car and can do what they want, and as Tony has pointed out to me, there is no changing what the outcome is going to be, there is just a willingness to see it through. “You’ve given them a great opportunity Damien, and they realise it.” But I can’t help feeling like it is ‘them’ giving ‘me’ the opportunity. I feel grateful to be on tour with these countrymen, to be around their unassuming and reserved disposition, their inhibited glances and calm stillness. I feel privileged to hear their quiet discussions in their ancient language and I can’t help but wonder what is lost in translation between us. I would like for the Kiwirrkurra Band to know that I am in awe of their ancestry, their heritage, their ability to speak their own language and their lack of material desire. I love how they stick together and the strength of the family bond that ties them to each other. Their lack of worldly concern and their intrigue with the natural world around them and the way they relate to it and talk about. I hate how our world has affected them, how the grog has been a scourge and capitalisation has forced them out of a once forgotten land, a once utterly isolated world. I did not do that and I cannot change it but I can refuse to be a part of it.

I have no idea why I told the guys to get here early. I realised when they pulled up at 7 am that I had jumped the gun. I figured if I said 830 they would come at 930 but I misjudged them and once again and I see how fear is enemy of the peace. I want the tour to be a success and I have a vision of them standing up there on the stage in Port Hedland in front of hundreds of people getting their shot in the limelight. However, those are my desires and might not be the best outcomes. I still struggle with just being accepting, after all, the good is sometimes the enemy of the best.

In Port Hedland we met up with Ben Lanzon (drummer) Rob Findlay (guitars) Candice and Brian (Indigenous performers) at the shopping centre. They had arrived literally 20 minutes earlier by plan and so all of us had lunch at a cafe there, my full contingent now at 17! It cost me $150 just for coffee and the question of the budget was still a huge concern. Em and I need to sit down and balance the books, add up our receipts and make a few projections. But the first thing to do was pay everyone! The accommodation in Port Hedland was luxurious (thanks to BHP). A huge double story set of rooms with shared ablutions blocks right on the waterfront overlooking the ships at sea. There was much for Em and I to do; pick up the keys for the venue on Saturday, load the music equipment on to the truck for the next three communities, go to the bank, organise the shopping for the next three days, fuel up the three vehicles, refill the jerry cans and pay a truckload of bills off. That was a big weight of my mind and it felt good to finally refund Ewan and Tony. I was personally in debt for nearly $10,000 by the time we reached Port Hedland.

It was great to see Ben and Rob again and I’m looking forward to being able to play as band for the next three concerts. These guys will have their work cut out for them as they both have to play for me and Candice. Also on Saturday night, they will have to play with Mary G too. That will be 3 hours of gigging, which is a lot of work if you add set-up and pull-down on top of it.

We got back to the rooms by nightfall, and Tony had a huge feed of curry chicken and rice made up. Rob, Ben and Ewan have set up the band equipment in the kitchen and had been practicing, the Kiwirrkurra boys where still hard at it when we walked in. Tristan had his electric key board on the ironing stand and Ewan had a clip board and was making notes on their set list, making them play the intro over and over again till they had it tight. The place looked like a recording studio. 
After dinner, Ryder asked me if he could go into South Hedland. (Exactly what Newcrest had predicted would occur), and fear jumped into my heart. I told him we were leaving early in the morning and it was best if he stuck with the crew but then he asked me if Tony could take him in. I had another predicament now. Ultimately, I would be looked at for the final decision, and thus the responsibility is mine too. However, I can’t stop Brian going out and I wouldn’t stop Tony, so to say ‘no’ seemed patronising. Self-doubt was a stone in my throat. I could not swallow. Ryder is 21 he is a grown man. Fear overcame me again and making the wrong decision felt like a double-jointed hinge in the outcome of the tour, which way will this swing?  What is right? How can one know! Disastrous results flashed like a neon sign, the boys would get sucked into the night life and I would lose them, my schedule was so tight I had no time to be driving around looking for anyone. The fact I even had to think like this annoyed me, i felt foolish and condescending. The Kiwirrkurra boys were sitting on the steps smoking. “Can we go into town Damien, walk around” they asked. Then Tony walked up, hands in his pocket, calm and thoughtful. Tony; my friend Tony! Tony has a demure that says i am incapable of lying, but you might not like what you hear. “I’ll go into town with the boys Damo.” He said. The dice was rolled.

I slept in the back of the truck as all the rooms were full, but I had been too tired to take a moment to cover the plastic seat with a blanket and I woke in a cold sweat. Sticking to the bench. Milton was standing at the end of my bed. He had a spear held high and was about to launch it into my thigh, Ryder was in the room but it was his ghost. The ghost was covered in blood and broken glass from a shattered windscreen, he was saying, “See Damien you let us down, now you get payback” I had failed, and Newcrest was there, shaking their heads at me. The tour was over and my luck had finally come to an end. I jumped out of bed. It was 130am. I walked down the corridor to Tony’s room and shone the light in. He turned over and squinted into my torch. “You’re back?” I asked, sounding surprised. He got up and fetched me a cup of water, watched me drink it then forced me to drink two more in a row. “Have you slept?” he asked. “Not much.” I answered, “I mean this whole trip?” He asked again. “Not much.” I answered again. “Damien, the boys are fine! They just wanted to tell their friends they are playing on Saturday. We did a big poster run and we were all home by midnight. It was fun.” 

Day 12
Thursday 7th July
Yandeyarra concert
I got a call from Bobby West first thing this morning and he is driving into town from Kiwirrkurra to be with the boys! I am so excited that i want to yell. Once again my fears where pointless. With Bobby here i know the boys will get home safe and most importantly it means i am no longer their ward. He is keen to see his son play at Port Hedland alongside Mary G like a proud Dad and i am really looking forward to seeing him again tonight.  He has said he will be in Yandeyarra by the time the concert starts. So with a rising sprit i can begin the final run now and it’s going to be a hard push.  We have a workshop and a concert to perform each day, plus travel. Three communities , three days. It means full set up and pull down every day, plus Yandeyarra is two hours south, and Warralong is three hours north of Port Hedland. There are 17 of us now, in 2 four wheel drives and a truck. To get to Yandeyarra by midday and be ready for the school assembly at 1pm we needed to be on the road by 9 and I had the crew up and the porridge and coffee ready by 7am. With Ben and Rob now here we even had a little Yoga session in the dining area at 5:30am. Rob led it, and it was very energising.
I didn’t sleep well last night and I’m pretty stuffed now. I’m a bit run down and as a consequence I’ve got a bit of a sore throat, not want you want when you need to sing. Candice and Brian both have bad sounding chest coughs they have brought up from Perth, and Emily has picked up a pretty bad flu from the kids. Both Sean and Chantelle are sick but are still soldiering on. Tony has a bad cut on his foot that won’t heal. Looks like blood poisoning again. All in all, we have done well. We are on the home stretch now, it should be downhill from here and with the fresh reinforcements arrived, we will be ok, but the next 3 days will be hard work no matter how you look at it.

Yandeyarra is not far off the Newman road and so is mostly sealed bitumen. It’s absolutely luxurious after what we’ve come from. The last 50 km was into the Pilbara cattle country and back onto the dusty gravel. We crossed the Yule River and pulled into what is quite a big community, Yandeyarra.
We were well received by the school principle Grahame who had nice quarters for us to bump into straight away. I left Candice to make the lunch sandwiches and the rest of us went over for setup. 

It was great to have my full team back again. I had forgotten how much I missed Bryte, and his new Hip Hop workshop was so cool. He got the kids to write a rap song then recorded it. He had prearranged a funky beat and some hooks for the kids to call out then he dubbed them into the song and mixed them up like a master DJ. The result was a catchy song that was as good as any. He is such a pro that guy!
Simon is the man now at the song writing workshops. He is such a seasoned performer and can improvise on the spot. I would even go as far as to call him a virtuoso at his instrument. In some communities the kids like Country music and in others Reggae, but Simon can find a chord progression and change the feel on the spot to anything you can think of. Rock, folk, reggae, you name it. For the kids to see that the same chords played with a different feel changes the type of song is impressive stuff. Because he is so proficient with the guitar, he can fearlessly write the song on the spot, words, feel and chords; then sing it play it and remember it!?. All I have to do now is sing along and help the kids with ideas, this is a big help for me. Before I finish blowing Simon’s horn I just want to add one other thing. A song is only as good as its hook line or melody. Simon never failed in all the workshops to pull a hook line out of the air that had the kids screaming at the song at the top of their lungs. After the workshop the kids where still singing that song. So at the concert we got them up again with the Kiwirrkurra band to sing it live on stage. The recording from this song is the one that we will use in the reports. It should be available from the website very soon. www.vow.org.au

Unfortunately, the community did not have a local band, but with Candice and Bryte both here now, there are five acts, that it’s just about enough for a festival, let alone a small concert. We got a very nice response to our work here and the principal was so happy with us I found a glowing report Cc’d to BHP and several other agencies in my inbox the following morning! I was pretty blown away by that.

Day 13
Friday 8th July
It was a big day for us today as I write this entry i found myself nodding off. The torchlight over my shoulder in the back of the truck lights my mobile desk. Twice I woke with 20 lines if dddddddddddddddddddddddddddddd as I fell asleep on the keyboard. But once I drooled onto the keypad i called it quits.  The day has been a success by all accounts but by no means a normal one. And although my worst fear was realised. Its outcome was nothing like I expected. In fact, I would even say it has been positive.
It started at 5am. I woke the crew early as it was a five hour drive to the next community from here. We had to pass back through Port Hedland. As we rolled out, Bobby stopped the. He told us they would meet us in Warralong and so we left with out them.

At Warralong we set up on the open basketball court as we had done last time we were here and once again not having anywhere to stay caused issues for us. We had nowhere to rest in-between the workshops and the concert and Tony had to make lunch at the back of the truck, which was not ideal as it meant all 50 of the kids running around wanted to eat too. In the end, after much pleading, the Principal offered us one of the school rooms to make a cup of tea. When asked if we needed help with the BBQ that night we meet with some strange resistance and then it seemed there was an issue over who was supplying the food, utensils and so on.  By the time we had started to play we were all pretty stuffed and then Bobby showed up in his Troopy with Eric, Morris and Adam but the 60 Series and the other boys were nowhere to be seen. Bobby had no idea where they were either and thought they were here already.
It was just as we finished our set that the 60 Series rolled into the community with a few hitch hikers aboard that I did not recognise. One of to the boys was asleep in the back, out cold; and the others where pickled like an owl. The elder for the community, Clarry, was not impressed, this was a dry community and there were kids here for the workshops. He told me categorically that they would not be allowed to play. Eric, the lead guitarist, is the senior man in the group and he said something to the whole band; then there was a silence until Adam asked me if they could still play, but then Bobby began to speak and all fell silent again, i don’t know what he said but he sounded angry. He turned to me and said “Drink grog, no play. No grog tomorrow, then play.” That was the final word, and nothing more was said about it. Since i have know Eric I have never seen a single emotion pass his face, he rarely smiles or joins in any conversations, he has an impressive countenance, immobile and expressionless, his little wiry goatee like a traditional sign post pointing to a heart of red sand. He never makes eye contact with me but tonight, I am sure I saw a look of disappointment, maybe it was me, or maybe I just imagined it. In two weeks we have shared not more than three words, but I feel like I would trust him with my life. He is the most powerfully charismatic person I have ever ‘not’ spoken with.

Day 14
Saturday 9th July
We had more workshops to do in the morning and so I woke the crew up early again.  We had driven back to Port Hedland last night so it was a pretty late night by the tine we packed up got in. Emily and I had forgotten to include today’s workshops in the itinerary so i  think the crew had all thought they would get a good sleep in and a bit of rest before the big show. Rob was anxious to rehearse with Mary G and Ewan was very distracted about getting the set up under way as early as possible so he could iron out any hitches and do sound checks for all six of the performers.  However, today’s workshops are the most important of all as the BHP sponsors will there. It is a basketball carnival at the youth centre in South Hedland, but we are expected to run some of the workshops there for kids as an adjunct, over in the hall.
With everybody’s combined effort we had the whole show set up, completed and packed away by 11:30am. So I took everyone down to the Hotel restaurant for lunch before the big final set-up. It was the first time we have eaten a nice sit down meal together the whole trip, and it was a real panacea to ease the stress that has built up over days of not stopping. I ate a huge T-bone and so did Emily, and so Bella got two huge bones to chew on in the back of the truck. The whole lot came to $450.00! That’s an expensive treat and I was glad we didn’t have to do that too often, but it was  well worth it, these guys have been just super and I could not have done it without their enthusiasm and the extra work that they have all have contributed. With a belly full of good tucker, we all felt better.

This year we outsourced the publicity and promotion of our major concert to another company. Amber from White Room is a force to be reckoned with. A small petite, blond haired, blue eyed bombshell, she has had to excel above the norm to overcome the stereotype of the beauty that might misrepresent her. A lawyer by trade, she drove the Haulpacks for BHP for years before setting up her own business. A business that has accommodated some world class acts. The association came about by chance. We saw the promotional work they had done for a previous concert as we left Newman last Tour and we were impressed by the work. The relationship is a blessing and the effort tripled our attendance.
The Kiwirrkurra boys did their bit to promote the concert too and had a massive following arrive before sundown. Consequently, the audience was a cultural fusion and from that point on I was happy. Only one moment during the night did i worry when some people arrived with a few cartons of beer to drink in the park, and unfortunately I could not get hold of the police. However it turns out that the captain of the Hedland Police was sitting in our audience and so once I pointed out the situation to him, it was resolved instantly. Ideally, it would have been better if it had been prevented rather than stopped, however no further issue resulted and the dancing was orchestrated by Countrymen and Englishmen combined. It was the cherry on the pie for me.
Ewan also had a teary moment or two when his beloved pride and joy, the Kiwirrkurra Band, opened the night with their Desert Reggae. The transformation was complete. They got up in their new outfits. All in white shirts. They played their songs like seasoned professionals, their set list now developed and tweaked under the guiding eye of Ewan with instructions from Simon and Rob. They had turned up this morning and practiced all day! I cannot describe how proud we where to perform with them. And Bobby was at the mixing desk every ten minutes asking Ewan for another CD to hand out to another relative. His pleasure at having his son and the boys up there was obvious, and quite cute. Bryte MC had his DJ spinning and scratching it up, so his set sounded full and dramatic, the sound Ewan pulled from the system was perfect. Candice with her huge soul voice and a band behind her is an act worth paying to see but tonight was free! My band pulled a pretty tight sound too if I do say so myself! In fact, i think I had the most people dance to our songs ever. The headline was Mary G and as always she was hilarious. She made me get up and do a duet which was comical but the real treat was when at the end of the night we asked Mary G to introduce Ryder Loxton onto the stage to play his song ‘Lonely Boy’. The Kiwirrkurra boys got up as his band and the crowd really went wild. In the end these guys had the biggest crowd dancing out of all of the acts and they played the final 3 song of the night with relaxed ease and grace. I think I was more nervous than them.  Just two weeks ago these guys got up on stage in Kiwirrkurra and played a mostly broken and disjointed set. Tonight they got up and delivered a professional and ordered set to an adoring audience. Moreover, the real irony of it is the majority of the crowd were here because they were playing and as a result of their promotion at South Hedland that night. They delivered their set with the same stoic and unaffected impressiveness, in front of the masses, as they did around a campfire. Then all the sudden it hit me!  I realised why I love these guys so much. They are just so honest! They never try to be anything other than what they are. They are incapable of anything else and they are always just that. Just here. As they always have been. Waiting and watching through the eons, through the ages. Like a mountain. Like a spirit.

Day 15
Sunday 10th July
Homeward Bound
Ryder sleeps in the seat next to me. His new career as a student at Abmusic to begin in the next few days. Ewan is stretched out in the back cuddling my dog. We are about 600km south of Newman and it is about 11:30pm. The night is dark, cold and a steady drizzle has fallen since we left Port Hedland as if the Pilbara weeps at our departure.
This night fell on us while we passed thought the astounding Legoland mountains of the Munjina Ranges. The sections of the hills looked like they had been pulled apart by a baby God who put them back together in the wrong order. A line of giant ridges stacked incorrectly like an ill fitting macramé set. Sections of the ridges seemed to hang out over the lower part, other sections looked like they were from a different ridge. In places the open cliff faces looked like bricks without mortar, stacked precariously high,  as if the whole range might just collapse any second. The landscape here is almost alien. Powerful and vast. A forgotten part of the world on a forgotten road. Red rocks and immeasurable green plains of ranges, caves and valleys. The beauty; mesmerising.

Reflection is my only companion now as I try to understand what happened. What really transpired. And how my life came to look like this, driving a dirty, red mud caked truck down an endless open road. Ambitious and determined for a result that I cannot even visualise. All I know is it is not a material result. The white line of the highway is flashing below me like a story-less movie screen, my headlights show the road and its verge which form a tunnel in the night, the extent of my visual world. The darkness ahead is a void, drawing me in like a black hole. The purring diesel motor and the vibrating steel chariot put me into a trance, and then I had a moment of clarity. It’s not what I thought it was going to be. The Desert Feet Tour. Its has turned a corner and from this day, it will never look the same again. The real outcome was so near I had missed seeing it. It was not the music or the recording, or the concerts, or the workshops, or the lessons or the experience. Most importantly, it was the friendships.
It was then I realised I had started something that I could never walk away from now. I had started friendships that are mine for life, if I choose to grow them.

I guess I have fallen in love with this land and with the salt of the earth, its people. I have fallen because that is my purpose. The purpose of my life. I used to believe life was for living, to live life to the max! But now I doubt that. Living is the state that occurs, like a present. Life is for loving. Love is our choice; to give it or not to give, to know it or not to allow it, to own it or fear it. To be without love is worse than to be without life, for life will end but love never will, and the measure of your life will be the quantity of your gift.

 


 


 End of This Blog

Desert Feet Tour 2011 Pilbara
13 July 2011

 

Begining of Blog from previous Tour in April 2011

 

DAILY BLOG
Minus 1 day to ETD
Friday 15th
Perth
My house looked like a cross between a mechanics workshop and an extreme camping safari base and I had my arms covered in grease up to my elbows working on the truck when the phone rang. It was Alienor from the project management company RPM, she was in Marble Bar and had just tried to get out to Punmu. She said the whole country was under water. They had crossed one flood way but had turned back at the second, seeing a car stranded part way out with water up to its roof. The rains had persisted well past their usual season and it looked like our road was blocked to the last 3 communities we had planned to visit. The land out there floods as fast as they dry up so in the mean time I had to just keep acting as if, and get this show on the road. My team this year will consist of my veteran performers Brian Lloyd (Bryte MC) our hip hop performer, and his partner and probably the most integral member of our convoy Candice Lorrae (Ulla Shay) our Pop singer/ music teacher and our representative from the music college Abmusic.
This year our tour objectives will be more focused on delivering band equipment to each community we visit and recording and developing songs and music with the kids that they can play and develop in our absence. This new partnership with a registered training organisation means all our workshops will be accredited under a Diploma of Music, and the kids will all receive a certificate of participation.
To make all this happen I have invested in extra crew members for the trip with a broader skill set. Namely Rob Findlay, a muso and recording engineer with multiple instrument skills. Rob recorded our first album Vow of Poverty back in ‘08 but also often plays lead guitar for us live. He will accompany us on the guitar and bass during the concerts and record the song writing workshops. Ewen Buckley mixed a set I played live once at the Environmentalist Rally in Cottesloe. He had heard about our workshops and had asked me back then if ever there was a spare spot to give him a call. He is travelling as our sound technician but also plays guitar and bass but has is a recording engineer background too.
Ben Lanzon is a drum teacher here in Perth. He will join us for the first concert in Newman and will visit Jigalong community to run workshops with us before flying home. Tony McDonnell is a bush man, he grew up riding horses and living off the land. I have employed him as our driver for the second vehicle, however he will double as a cook and a roadie.  There is of course myself and then I have left Emily Minchin to last because she deserves a special mention.
I would even venture to say that without her, this tour would not be leaving Perth now would it nor the previous 3 have been possible. As a volunteer for the Not-For-profit organisation that coordinates and runs this tour she has basically worked full time along full time Study at WAPA to make this all happen again. She is a treasure.

Departure day
Saturday 16th
Perth
At 12pm last night I finally had the sea container packed and ready to crane onto the truck. But when I went to lift it on it was too heavy for the crane. Tony and I looked at each other and the idea of unpacking it again in the middle of the night was too much to bear. So our plans to head off at 5am came to an end.
Emily was not even home yet from her Brother’s wedding and so we decided to just get some rest and do what we could in the morning. After repacking and loading the truck we got away about 10am and the Prado caught up to us a Meekatharra where we stopped for a counter meal.
I had beds ready for us at The Newman Hotel and we arrived at 4am about 3 hours after the Prado.

Day 1
Sunday 17th
Newman
I got a quick few hours sleep and then jumped up about 6am to get ready for the show tonight. Newman will be our last shopping centre for over 2 weeks so we stocked up on food and gear. Not being sure if we can get out to all the communities I decided to store the last 3 sets of Band equipment in storage with BHP in town as it would lighten our load considerably. As this is our first gig tonight I wanted a good lead in time to make sure everything works. This will be the first time I have run the PA up and done a full set up with the gear and it took us nearly 4 hours. But the end result was a very professional and good looking outfit! The concert went well and the sound was great. In fact we got asked to turn it down twice. We played at the local aquatic centre this year and the grounds were very comfortable and the location was much better, only thing was that most people are used to us playing at Boomerang oval and as a result I think it cost us a few people. Although the audience wasn’t huge the quality was great and those that came got a great show on the grassy area while the kids played in the pool. The East Pilbara Shire put on a huge BBQ too and the night was, I believe, a resounding success. The main thing is that it all worked and it was a good trial run before we head into the desert.

Day 2
Monday 18th
Jigalong
On arriving in Jigalong I headed straight to the local store where the office and community CEO would be. I picked up the keys for the Rabbit Proof Fence, which is the name of the visitors accommodation here, and sent the guys over to bump in. Meanwhile I dropped into the police station to see my old friend Senior Sergeant Brian Dance. Brian was very welcoming and gave me an update on the road conditions. It seemed that the road through to Cotton Creek was now safe, however the way through to Punmu from there was impassable. This meant we might have to drive all the way back from Cotton Creek to the Jigalong road out to the Marble Bar to get out on the Telfer road to get to the last 3 communities Punmu, Kunawarritji and Kiwirrkurra which are all east of there. But as long as we can get there I don’t care which way we have to go. As I left the police station an old Bushy that had been on the phone in the main office came up to me outside. Kim had an AC (Aboriginal Corporation) shirt on and evidently worked for them. They are one of the main servicing organisations out here, but Kim had driven down from Cotton Creek that morning. He told me that he had got through from Punmu the day previous and knew of a way around the flooded lake. I asked if I could drop in and see him in Parnngurr when we arrived in a few days and grabbed his phone number.


Day 3
Tuesday 19th
Workshops in Jigalong.
I should be telling you about the success of the workshops today but I just have to write about the trip to the rock pool first.
After unloading the gear and grabbing a bite to eat we were visited by 4 little curious faces from our workshop audience. Jerek, Elton, Tristan and Jerome who arrived on a couple of beat up old bikes with huge smiles and happy laughter. Jerek was interested to know if we had fishing gear which I supplied him with on the grounds he showed me where he used them.
Upon discovering that I had a fishing rod he became very excited and within moments we had a Prado packed to bursting point with a team of eager campers made up of 4 little locals, 5 Great White Hunters and our hip hop star, Bryte MC. I’m not  sure where they led us or what it was called (other than, Rock Pool) but I know we crossed the Rabbit Proof Fence after about half an hours’ drive. We passed over some flat desert plains without incident and then struck out east for a distant range, barely visible. As we approached the country became green and lush and soon white gums sprang up all around us until we came to a halt at the base of a huge table top ridge. The kids lead us down a track on foot ‘til a stunning oasis opened before us. The Rock Pool was evidently the residual catchment from a wet season water fall. Surrounded by 100 foot ridges, the water must burst over this ridge like a veritable Niagra Falls, only to turn off like a tap just as suddenly. That’s the thing about the outback here, dichotomy of extremes, always!
One season you can be stuck here surrounded by water in every direction, the next you can die of thirst in less than a few days. No fish was to be caught here but a whole lot of fun was to be had jumping off rocks into the deep, cool water, and clambering up the rocky ridge to explore and pose for photos in the gorgeous desert sunset. Jerek was absolutely enthralled by my fishing tackle box! For all that was in there, all he would take at the end of the day was a small piece of line and a single hook and small sinker, which he wrapped around his wrist like a utility bracelet. Happy as Larry, he sat up on the arm rest between the two front seats as we drove home in the dark telling Tony when to turn, which track was best and when to slow down, his little voice full of confidence and authority. “Slow” he would say, then once, I heard him lean into Tony’s ear close and whisper “now fast!” Tony hit the accelerator just in time for a small rise in the road and the Prado sailed over, like an elevator falling, everyone in the car laughed as we bounced down on the other side. Our little pilot evidently knows this country like the back of his hand.

For those of you that have read my previous blogs on the tour, you will be familiar with our workshop program, and needless to say that out here nothing ever goes to plan. Jigalong has a large population for a remote community and might have up to 100 kids at the local school on any given day, but that can change radically depending on circumstances . The big one is sorry business. If someone has died in any of the communities, the whole place can become virtually empty in moments, especially if an Elder passes away. Sorry business is very serious business out here and can last for weeks. Local football carnivals can fill or empty a community as everyone out here plays or at least watches footy. But for now it is just the holiday break, a lot of adults had gone into town for the school holidays that will begin tomorrow. In fact, today was the last day of school and just before we set up on the assembly area the teachers had given out the prizes for attendance for the last term.
The principal announced our workshops to the kids but some had to leave to head into town and others having finished school for the day wanted to go home. This in fact was not a bad thing because it left a party of about 20 kids with us that had chosen to stay because of an interest in music. Once we stared to make some noise a few of the older teenage boys walked in too, which was very encouraging. The Jigalong song that the kids wrote was really one of the best so far. We have enough songs now for a small compilation CD. The themes are all common but the kids enthusiasm never fails to be infectious. We try to make it as organic as possible but of course we have a rhythm and chords preselected and a few lines of the chorus made up in case they are not to responsive but most times they will write the words themselves. Jigalong’s song was more of a ballad type arrangement and the kids liked the opportunity to call out their community’s name in the chorus that they chose. The words “this is the Jigalong song, a song for staying strong, the, we’ve been here so lonnnnnnnnnnnng, song. I thought that was pretty creative for a kids song and it received lots of little approving nods when we asked them if they like it during the chorus construction part of the workshop. The main aim is that they receive something they are interned in singing about. All the parts of the song are recorded live, most importantly is that we record them singing on it, if someone can get up and play one of the instruments, that’s even better. They see how each track (instrument) is recorded over the previous until we have a full song, drums, base, acoustic guitar, lead break, vocals and most importantly their harmonies. We then bounce the song down and each of the kids gets a copy of the CD. 
But the real highlight of this day for me was our dinner guests. After our little adventure the four kids came back to the Rabbit Proof Fence and had dinner with us. I have never seen a kid eat so much. Jerek ate a bowl of sausage stew with bread and milk then 3 muesli bars. Then a whole steak and two potatoes. I told him that he just ate more food then he weighed, to which he just shrugged and said “got any more cool drink?”.

DAY 4
Wednesday 20th
Workshops in Jigalong continued…
Ben has taken to joining me for my early morning yoga sessions, him and I seem to be the early birds in the group and he is always up early practicing his drum technique on a practice pad. He is a  man of incredible discipline but his back has given him a few troubles with his job and a few simple poses I showed him gave him great relief instantly. This motivated him to add Yoga to his very tightly run schedule. But today was something really special as our little posse of locals showed up bright and early, eager to tuck into the Weet-bix they saw on the shelf last night and the fresh milk that we brought out from Newman.  Soon however, we had a hysterical show as the kids, intrigued by our contorted manoeuvres, tried to imitate the Asanas. I don’t suppose they had ever seen anyone doing Yoga before and they thought it was pretty funny, little Tristan’s downward-facing-dog was actually pretty impressive.
Today was a real trial with the workshops as Candice wanted to try out her music reading lessons. Also on the agenda was the first set up with new band equipment. These are both workshops we have not yet tried out. Tony and I made a start on getting the truck ready to head out first thing in the morning and I fuelled up at the one and only pump in Jigalong. We headed over to the school about 10:30am and loaded in the band gear. The commotion attracted most of the kids left here on the community and once a couple of the older kids started to play, the resulting sound brought in the rest.
Some really inspirational stuff happened in the spur of the moment and I think as much learning took place in the fringes during the completely unrehearsed and open format, as did in the workshop.  One thing was sure and that is, the desire to get back on those instruments was like a golden carrot and all were  eager and focused in Candice’s music reading workshop. The resulting footage was just amazing, even the local dogs and cats joined us and I think they might even be more musical for it. The end result was that the whole school was able to play 5 bars of time, reading from the sheet music,  in tempo and in tune and not once but several times through! That included every kid starting from about age 6 right through to teenagers. Everyone had an instrument. We had a huge selection on percussion stuff for the younger kids, like tambourines and bomgos and shakers. And the older kids played on the electric guitars and drum equipment. Everyone had an instrument and everyone played a part.

Unfortunately, this is where Ben and the Desert Feet Tour must part. Tony will take Ben into Newman to fly home, pick up some shopping and the rest of the PA equipment which we stored with BHP. There’s been no more rain so far and the Police seem to think there’s a fair chance we will make it to Punmu so we’ll need the rest of the gear in case we get through from the Parnngurr side. If we do, we won’t be seeing civilisation now till the 2nd May. The road through to Punmu from Cotton Creek will take us out to Kunawarritji and Kiwirrkurra, if we can get through from this side, but the most likely scenario is that we’ll have to go the long way around, through Marble Bar.

Leaving tomorrow means we need to repack the sea container. 2 days of pulling stuff in and out had made a mess of it so Emily and I took the opportunity to strip it right out and start again. We left the guys at the school to jam with the remaining students that just wanted to play free style and as we walked back to the sea container the sounds of desert Reggae filled the hot and dusty afternoon air. It took us over an hour to get ready and when we came back the kids along with Ewan and Candice were still jamming! They even had a few songs down pat! I have never seen kids learn so fast anywhere!
Once loaded and packed away, we stored the band equipment to be left behind in the library of the school and headed home to pick up the fishing gear. The very important task of consoling our long nagging hosts desire to lead us out to the local creek for a fish was becoming unbearable and like any self respecting guest we obliged them. Coincidently we had a fair selection of fishing gear that the kids were very eager to get their hands into (I guess the work had got around since yesterday) and young Jerek and Tristan, being now almost part of our posse, diligently lead us into the desert, south towards a green looking valley where they informed us, “the creek runs”, however the name of this Creek I was unable to discover as all my inquiries were simply answered with “THE creek”. Of course to the kids of Jigalong, this is the whole world so how could there be a need to differentiate it between any other creek? as we walked out into the desert, the kids chased crickets amongst the Spinifex to use as bait. Bare footed and free, I realised that in a lot of ways these kids are luckier than others, for all the things they don’t have or that they seemingly lack by our standards, they have one thing we in the city can never have, they have a connection to their back yard  and their back yard  is endless, they have a play ground of endless resource.  But the kids of Jigalong are not just free with the spirit of childhood, that immaculate ability to be present and fulfilled in every moment, they have something more, like a extra string in the bow of innocence, they are truly free, free from the needs and desires of the modern world. This little dusty village in the desert is their world and it is them that make it shine like a polished mirror, the nature of their freedom, the smiling impunity, the consistent laughter, the language of their actions is a freedom we cannot know. Maybe it because they have a direct and clear linage back to a time immeasurable. Maybe it’s just because they know where they have come from, maybe its because they know they belong, their sense of themselves is as connected to the earth as a tree is strong. Maybe these people are the lucky ones and we are missing out? Maybe we’ve just looked at it the wrong way all this time?! One thing is certain to me and all of the people on this trip will verify it. There is no violence, there is no hostility, there is nothing wrong or shameful about life in a remote Aboriginal community. It is dirty, it is tough and it is very, very hot. But on many levels it is far more sensible then how we live in the city! Could it be that the media are lying to us about what happens out here? Or are they just capitalizing on the worst parts?

Day 5
Thursday 21st
Road to Parnngurr (pronounced a bit like Bungor)
I learn a few very valuable lessons today. Out here things can go horribly wrong in seconds and there is nothing worse than that feeling of uncertainly as you drive deeper and deeper up a road that just gets narrower and narrower until you reach a point in which you make a few crossing that you know are so hard that going back becomes an issue. Rule number one: When travelling in a convoy stay together!
When we left Jigalong this morning the road to Cotton Creek (Parnngurr) seemed obvious. On the chart there was only two options, one was via the Mine entry about 30km west back towards Newman the other via a old station called Billinooka, had a closer turn off just a few km’s outside Jigalong. The 2 roads met at the Talawana Track and carried on to Cotton Creek. The boys had lost the spare tyre off the trailer coming in from Newman last night, so they headed off to find it first. We left early to get a run up as we are the slower vehicle. Mistake number one!
It soon became obvious to us in the truck that the Billinooka road was not in use, 20km into it we hit wash outs and I had been in 4x4 Low for nearly an hour when we came out of the sandy bog at the station. Seeing the tin roofs glinting in the distance we decided to drive in and make sure the rest of the road was ok for use. Not wanting to leave the road in case the guys came up behind, I pulled the truck up on the side and Brian and I walked in towards the buildings, leaving Em and Candice with the truck.
Mistake number two! Never leave your vehicle. When we got within shout of the station it became clear it was empty. Cars turned rusty sat in driveways with their doors wide open. Front doors on verandas banged in the wind. An old Telstra phone hung limp from the receiver. I tried the line, dead. Stone cold empty like the plague had passed through last week. It was eerie.
Back at the truck we decided that we should wait for the car. Not knowing if the guys had found the spare and with the road under our belt questionable it seemed the right thing to do. After half an hour we got worried and turned back. It took another hour to make the main road to Jigalong again, and still no sign of the guys. Scared that they might come along the turn off while we headed back into Jigalong, Brian and I decided to wait in the bush while the girls took the truck back into town to look for them.
When the girls got to Jigalong they were eventually pointed in the direction of the local Ranger who told them that the first half of the Billinooka road was the worst part of the whole 4 hour trip to Cotton Creek, and we had just done it twice!
Assuming that the guys must have taken the other road, and now aware that it was the better one, we headed off in hot pursuit, only 4 hours behind schedule.
Mistake number three! Never drive into the desert without giving someone at your destination an ETA!
While they were in town, the girls called the Ranger (the only phone number they could get through to) at Cotton Creek, told them we were leaving and would arrive in about 4 hours, and asked them to look out for the guys if they arrived and let them know we were safe. For us though, it was not until we pulled into the community at 630pm that night that we knew where the boys were.
Lesson!! Get a Satellite phone next year!!!
We had been on the road for 9 hours when we arrived at Parngurr (pronounced Bungor.. sort of…). The guys, who had arrived earlier in the afternoon were buzzing from their adventures, they had already been goanna hunting, swimming in the creek and had a scratch match on the local footy field. Dinner was served just as we pulled in and around the dinner table we compared notes. It was all funny now that we were safe, but we made it a rule that we have hourly check points and stay together at all times from now on. Obviously, we had to delay the concert as it was well after dark when we pulled in, however later that night we went over to the basket ball court to meet some of the kids and we were pretty well received. I think this community will be really fun to perform and do the workshops at.

One thing that struck me about the country out here is the incredible diversity and absolute abundance of insects and creatures. The bathroom is full of the cutest little frogs, a python hung off our back fence when we walked out to the veranda and as the sun set, a veritable cascade of many legged things flocked to the lights in our abode. I found one bug a lot like a Rhino beetle, but when I went to pick it up it let off a sound like a boiling kettle. Much to everyone’s delight (but probably not the poor little bugs’) we poked at it for some time, encouraging the intriguing sound. There is a bird here I have no idea what sort, that sounds like a delicate sound on a little plastic recorder that we used to be given in school. There must be 20 or 30 variations of size shape and length of the praying mantis. Some so thin they look praying mantis from a POW camp, one that Ewan found looked like it had an alfoil jacket on and another had eyes that glowed, fluoro!! Then there are the crickets! One that I found looked like he had been on steroids, with big bulging cricket muscles, another looked like the Rambo of the cricket kingdom! Covered in what looked like a camouflage outfit resembling a solider ready for battle and a cross between the alien out of Predator. Maybe the movie director saw this guy when they designed the predator?!

The local coordinator out here is a young bloke called Stretch. He was wearing a Kurrunpa Kunyjunyu shirt, the Healthy Lifestyle program that James Back had set up and we knew a lot of the same people that I had meet through James back in the ‘09 tour. It seems he worked for them for while too and so I got an update of where everyone was, especially X-Man, who had taken us up to the Eagle nest flat top in Punmu, one of the most incredible desert camp sites I have ever seen yet.  Stretch’s real name was Nyaparu. In the Martu language, Nyaparu  means ‘name that cannot be said’. In traditional Law, once someone passes away that name cannot be spoken for one year. This means anyone else with that name become Nyaparu. Not only a person with that name cannot be spoken but anything with that name. for instance, if someone called Bill died you could no longer call the Billy Can a Billy Can, it would now be the Nyaparu Can. So it can get interesting fast, especially as the punishment for speaking the name of the dead is quite harsh. About 4 people I have met so far have introduced themselves as Nyaparu.
Stretch seemed to really have his finger on the pulse. He was the local contact point for just about everything, whether it was fixing a generator, or making a phone call Stretch was the guy you saw, he was the Centrelink rep, the store manager, the weather man, the main roads information line, and the police even used him to issue warrants and fines. He told me point blank that the road to Punmu via Marble Bar was closed to trucks. It had only been open for 2 days to high 4x4 vehicles. He also told me that trucks are fined $1000 a tyre if caught on the roads when closed. Something I didn’t know. It seems that one of the Elders had got through on the road from here last week but I had taken him so long to get through that he came back via the Telfer road and Marble Bar and Nullagine just that day. So at this stage we had two options; wait here till the Telfer road is opened to trucks, or take the short cut from here and use the detour that Kim had spoken about. Stretch seemed to think we would be looking at a good 10 to 12 hours drive that way, if we could make it.

Day 6
Parnngurr (otherwise known as Cotton Creek)
Friday the 22nd April
The guys had made a few friends here prior to our (those in the Truck) arrival so our workshop was well anticipated by the community.  Everyone on the tour, now having done a few workshops, were getting the hang of it and we learnt a few tricks that helped us to be more efficient. Most importantly, we decided to use the band equipment we are supplying to the community for the work shop, instead of our own, so the kids got to see it being set up and  also, so that we can use it for the recording session. However these guys had never had this sort of program run here before and it was a little daunting for the younger ones to start with. The song writing workshop was received with absolute silence and most of the kids were too shy to suggest any words or lines for the songs at all. Even with bribes of shirts, beanies and snacks they could not be enticed out of their self consciousness’. Luckily we are prepared for that and had most parts of the song prewritten for just this type of situation. Recording the song became difficult too, as no matter what we did, no one would be the first to sing out loud. These kids are extremely isolated from almost every form of extraverted performance. Shame is a big  thing for them. What it means is that you cannot be seen to be trying to be better than others. Worse still is the idea that you might try and fail. Then not only would you be ‘Shame’ you would be ridiculed by your peers. This fear is a barrier that is hard to overcome in areas of uncertainty or experimentation. The big break though for us came when one of the older kids, Ryder, a Punmu boy staying with family on their way to the funeral in Meekatharra, got up and offered to play the bass on the recording. The other kids where very impressed by this and we were finally able to get a few takes of the song down. Some of the kids even joined in on the chorus ever so softly but we managed to record them singing and hey presto the Parnngurr Song was born.
The really exciting development happened after the workshop when a little jam session started up on the community’s new band equipment. Ryder asked if we could play a song he had written for a girl he was missing. Brian jumped on the drums and Candice on the bass and he sang and played the electric guitar. Rob asked him if he felt like recording it and Ryder was just over the moon. Soon we had drum track laid for him and then over-dubbed his guitar which he got pretty effortlessly. We had to cut it short because we needed to head over and set up for the gig but we promised him if he came over to our camp the following day we would record the bass, vocals, and some harmonies too. He was super keen and we made it a date.

In the mean time Tony and I took the truck over to the local basketball court and set up for the concert. Emily is a fine crane operator now and I leave all the Hiab driving to her. She is gentle and patient and has never made a mistake yet, so it is better to have someone drive it that is really good at it, than everyone just wanting to have a turn because it’s fun. One wrong move with that sucker and you can be in trouble super fast. 2 and half tonne can render a whole world of damage, fast. The boom, if it’s not lifted out of the cradle in a very specific way, can lock the whole jib in and jam itself shut. Plus, driving with the PTO on or the hydraulic legs still down would render the truck unusable in seconds. One tiny mistake like that out here and the truck is incapacitated and I can tell you there is no heavy duty mechanics around here. I do believe it would be the end of the truck and needless to say the end of the tour. One only needs to look around at the endless graveyards of decommissioned cars tucks and vehicles of all discriptions to see what happens when a car breaks down out here.
Our set-up time is down to about an hour and a half now. Rob stayed at the camp to make a huge curry stew and dhal with rice for dinner. By the time we did sound check it was nearly time to kick off and I had time to fly home stuff some stew in my gob and take a quick shower. Setting up in the heat and dust is really dirty work. I completely destroy a set of clothes every time. The dust out here it gets into everything including your skin, it makes your hands crack and your sinuses bleed. It’s basically like metal filings I guess. There is so much iron ore in the ground, patches of the earth look like metal sheets in places. We had a lot of trouble getting power to the truck. The outlet on the court didn’t work, the next closest one didn’t work either and we ended up having to run three 20 metre cords over from someone’s house. The problem with doing that is all our power comes off one point and our power requirements are just on the border of too much for one outlet.
Next year the first thing on the agenda will be a generator I reckon.

The concert in Parnngurr was a real buzz, the audience was small but very appreciative! All the resident wadjallas (white fellas) came too, which was really nice and we had a massive cook up! (note to diary, include funding for BBQ and food for each community in all budgets from now on.) Having food at the concerts has really made a huge difference, both in attendance numbers and kudos from the locals. In the end the kids danced like crazy in front of the truck. Maybe the darkness loosened the cultural restrictions, maybe we had just formed a better bond now. Maybe Ewan’s attempts at break dancing to Bryte MC’s hip hop beats lowered the bar so far, or maybe they just were having a fat time? Whatever the reason the point of hilarity was Rob on the truck doing a Wiggles impersonation of the B52’s ‘Love Shack’ song, while a crowd of hysterical kids imitated his contorted dance moves till it seemed we could not laugh another second with our sides splitting. At this point the power tripped out and blackness fell across the court. A silence like only the desert can host, rushed in upon our ears and the magnitude of this great land burst out of the sky in a power point display to surpass the greatest of movies ever projected against a screen.  But this movie was free and it was called the star show. I heard Tony awwww at them and then as my night vision adjusted I could see Emily gazing upwards. When the lights finally came back on, the place was vacant. Not a kid was left to be seen, and as we packed the truck away we took turns at spotting shooting stars. You know they are huge when you have time to draw someone else’s attention to them and you both see it together.

Going home from these concerts is very satisfying. One can’t help but feel a sense of achievement. Logistically, getting all this equipment out here is no mean task. That is why there’s none out here. The other thing is that bouncing this type of gear around on corrugated roads and subjecting it to all the dust and heat does not make for longevity. So no one wants to bring their equipment out here. I guess if it were easy there would be concerts out here all the time, but some of these communities have never had a live band come to them. Tonight we played without Ben so we had to change the set up a bit. Rob wrote this 12 bar riff that loops around on A minor, E minor, and D minor bar chords in a reggae feel and made it into a little song that we could use to loosen up on and introduce each of the Tour members. Candice told us she could do a good reggae feel on the drums so we kicked it off with her as the drummer. Ewan plugged the bass in and played from where he stands at the mixing desk and Brian got up and freestyle rapped over the top of it. “I’ve been walking all day on my desert feet , trying to get out of this Australian heat”………….. and on and on it goes. What we discovered is that we made a really good band that way! So we played the whole set with Candice and Ewan too. It was a real blast and made for a lot of fun improvising . That is mostly due to the skill of Rob, who can explain any instrument part to the whole band while playing himself. It was really impressive, him calling out chord changes to Ewan over the PA system while I was singing lines. The effect was that the audience thought we were super talented but of course, it was just a bit of mischief really. However the end result was not bad considering we had never played as a band like that before and Candice had only heard some of my songs once or twice. So we decided we would keep it that way and build on it.
All we have to do now is get Tony on the Tambourine.

Day 7
The 23rd April
Bad news hit me cold at the office when Stretch arrived back from town. Punmu had called through to give the road report and two cars had been stuck on the Telfer track that day. John the CEO from out there said the water was over the bonnet and as we don’t have a snorkel on the hire car that is the end of the road for us. The road from Telfer to Punmu is the only way into the desert from here. I would have to drive back to Newman down to Leonora and across to Alice Springs to get in from the other side. A drive of over 3000km. The Rangers had come back in from the Canning Stock Route that night and the road was under water before Punmu and Kunawarritji which means I can’t get out to Kiwirrkurra either. John said it was the worst flood he had seen in 15 years and last time it took nearly 6 weeks to dry up. The words were like a blow to my head. I couldn’t think clearly and felt totally depressed. Less than half way through the tour and only 3 concert and 2 communities into the trip. It was the biggest setback I had copped in four years of doing this. The costs to get out here are high. I was paying over $3 a litre for diesel and it is over $1500 a night to keep all these guys accommodated, that doesn’t include food, and 7 people can eat a lot every day. Getting up here is just as expensive as being here so coming all this way and not being able to complete the tour really sucks. Would my sponsors see this as a waste of money? Would I lose credibility? Have I finally bitten off more than I can chew?! It was 10 days till I was due in Marble Bar and Nullagine. What should I do? Cancel the tour and head home, or try to reschedule the last two concerts and do them now, or wait around for 10 days till the last few concerts?

I think Stretch must have seen my despondent look. “You’re welcome to stay here and keep doing workshops.” he offered.
I didn’t want the guys to see me feeling down and Candice was next door running a workshop with the kid so I went home to be alone for awhile. Staying in Cotton Creek was costing me $120 a night per person and there was seven of us, so staying here was not really an option. As I trotted home I saw Kim from the AAC (Ashburton Aboriginal Corporation) walk out of his front door and as I passed I offered a fleeting comment on the state of the roads. Kim looks a real Crocodile Dundee type, a stocky looking bushman with a Grizzly Adams beard, until he speaks, softly and intelligent without any rough edges, one nearly does a double take. It turns out Kim is an ex-school teacher, I have a warm affinity with teachers, my father being one, and his kind and polite manner has a way of making one feel welcome. I’ve always admired that quality in a person. That feeling you get as you walk away, when you reflect on the fact that you might have known them for 20 years the way they just treated you. I had to ask myself “did I just do something really nice to that guy or was he just really nice?” I guess people in the country are just nicer, they have more time for you and when you talk to someone out here you can feel their attention rest on you like a still moment. It’s the opposite of the city where you always fight for attention over thousands of distractions. Every conversation is a sales pitch for control of the moment. I’ve gotten so used to it that I am almost surprised the way people listen to you out here. I guess they are thinking, “look at this crazy city slicker, cant slow down”, but a few hours in this sun slows down the fastest  of men. I am sure this heat thins out your blood like a Beta Blocker. Makes one a bit lethargic.
Kim was to be our guide to Punmu but I knew that he already had the news I had received from Stretch. He invited me in to his house and at the table sat a young fresh faced guy with a Newcrest shirt, I had not seen him before and he had obviously just got in. He introduced himself as the community liaison officer for Newcrest and the coordinator of the famous western desert football carnivals. The hardest and toughest Derbys in the world. He worked directly under Leon Van Erp, the very man that Emily and I had had breakfast with not more than week earlier. Leon was the man that had signed off on Newcrest Platinum sponsorship package for our tour. A very interesting guy, he has served in the remote regions for over 45 years, starting out as a school teacher in Port Hedland. He had spent time with the famous Robert Tomkinson, the number one authority on the Martu People, a anthropologist that lived in the desert with the Martu back in the 60’s for over 10 years, recording the language and traditions. Leon had a vast and profound understating of the Martu. And he spoke to us of his field officer, Steve Anthony. It so happened that right now we sat before that very fellow, Mr Steve Anthony himself. Steve handed us a calendar with a schedule of dates and locations for the upcoming carnivals. The next one was in 10 days right where we were now, at Cotton Creek. Both Stretch and Kim suggested we come back for the carnival. Steve pointed out that Punmu and Kunawarritji mob would be here for the game. Warralong and Jigalong would be in town too, and there would be more people at this community for the football carnival then in any one community we have ever visited. Steven suggested that we could deliver our workshops and concerts to a much wider audience than we could reach even if we could proceed with the tour as planned, and was confident that Newcrest would still have their full support behind the Tour with the suggested revised schedule. Suddenly it seemed as if things had happened for a reason.
It was Saturday night. Tomorrow was Easter Sunday, everything was closed till Wednesday! I would not be able to reach anyone now and I could not wait around for 3 days, I had to make a decision. The path seemed clear, the road to the last three communities was closed, I was obviously not meant to go there. Another road was opened and it was evident. Come back to Cotton Creek for the footy carnival. The table nodded in approval, the jury was in, the case was closed. Stretch would provide us with accommodation, Kim would take us hunting for much needed meat, and Steve would pull the strings at the top to assure we stayed inside the bounds of our sponsorship agreement.
This left me with one week to kill, if I could reach someone in Nullagine we could head into town and run the concert there Tuesday night and then reschedule the Marble Bar concert for Friday. That would give us a day to get back into Newman for supplies and then head back out to Cotton Creek for a week of football carnival fever. We could run daily workshops for the kids and concerts every night. It sounded like a plan had come together.

Earlier that day the community had taken us out hunting Goanna. 4 Troopy loads of kids, locals and a hand full of wadjallas. We bumped our way over some gravel tracks to a shallow dam used by the graders to fill the water trucks. Lots of creatures came in here to drink and a veritable plethora of tracks littered the banks. The hunting party was lead by women, I watched from one of the dam mounds as two of the more senior women walked off into the desert. Ewan asked if he could follow but was told that they might not be back till tonight. Another party headed inland with a group of kids in tow and this was obviously a less ambitious tour. I followed behind one of the women from a distance for a while trying to work out what signs she was looking for. Once she looked back at me and not knowing whether it was ok to follow a woman into the desert or not, I stopped. She turned back a checked some holes closer to me by a clump of low lying scrub. This time she turned and looked at me again. I called out, asking if it was ok to follow. “What you name” she asked. I offered my name and in return discover that this was Natasha Williams, the daughter of the senior elder here Jimmy Williams. Natasha laughed when I asked again if it was ok to follow. “Why you don’t just come over?” Natasha showed me what to look for, how to find the tracks and then how to follow them. When I ventured to far afield she called me back, pointing out that rocky ground was no good for tracking. At one point we crossed over a washed out clay track which Natasha informed me was the Canning Stock Route. (It looked badly damaged and almost impassable here. Which dampened any ideas I had about a back route to Punmu.) I started to find a few holes after Natasha had pointed some out but my excitement was short-lived when Natasha observed that they were too old to bother digging up. At last I found a fresh one but alas it was too small, much to my guides amusement. One set of tracks that Natasha showed me was like an artist’s impression on canvas! In a area of dirt no more than two foot wide, a Goanna had passed, intersected them at 45 degree angle a set of Bush Turkey tracks, followed by the paw prints of what Natasha informed me was a pursuing Dingo. All conveniently etched onto a red primed canvas. If I could have cut out that bit of earth and glued it into a frame you would have bought it as an Aboriginal painting. After walking around in the scrub out here you can see where the inspiration comes from for the art that we see in galleries now.
We failed to uncover any Goanna, however had we been hungry there would have been much for the banquet of the deserts dinner. Natasha uncovered several small bird nests that she told me are all edible. There was endless amounts of the Spinifex grain that traditionally they ground in carved out basins for the equivalent of the bush bread and a small purple flowered plant offering a yellow fruit that Natasha called a bush tomato. I felt completely safe with Natasha and paid no attention to how far into the desert we had wandered. I knew that she would find her way back out and I knew that we could live out here without needing anything if we were lost. This time I got with Natasha was priceless. She offered up the secrets of her land with pride and authority quite colloquially, being her student for that little moment was a gift, but when it came to being drawn into any pointless conversation or open topic she was silent and stoic. Out here I was her student, but back at camp in front of her peers she gave no encouragement for further discourses nor offered any more information. It is impolite to make eye contact with your elders or women of the camp, and thus the fleeting connection in the desert was only for my education. Maybe because we had contributed something and it was a returned gesture, maybe just because she felt like it. I don’t know, but one thing I do know is that this is a culture I will never understand but will always respect. You can live out here, you can be accepted, you can even learn the language. But to really understand it, you would have to need nothing else, forsaking all. You would also have to be the descendant of 45,000 years of living in the harshest environment on earth. You would have to have survived colonization and spiritual deprivation and then, after all that, still be willing to be kind to your subjugator and offer them your secret knowledge. There are times on these trips into the desert that  I have moments when I realise everything else I do was worth it just for that one moment. I am acutely aware of the issues and the chasm that separates our cultures but I am always amazed at the complete lake of any feeling of hostility or mention of the past. I have to ask myself, if the situation was reversed. If I had been living here and Aboriginal people came and changed my world, would I be able to forgive like that? I would have to say, for myself, I doubt that I would have the conviction or humility, I am often reminded in these moments of the Aboriginal elder that said “If you are born in Australia, you are an Aboriginal”. In a sense, we have been given the opportunity to move on without resentment. I can’t help but feel that we, as Australians, have yet to really grasp that opportunity.

Day 8
The 24th April
Cotton Creek
In the morning I got through to Nullagine caravan park by phone. The owner there was friends with the local Shire rep, Harvey, and they organised our accommodation in the blink of an eye. I also reached BHP’s rep in Port Hedland and they seemed happy with the changes. In fact they could see they were for the better, it meant that kids in Nullagine and Marble Bar would get workshops as well as concerts. Josh (BHP’s Community officer) said he would fly into town for the concert in Marble Bar and was shipping out some merchandise for the workshops that we could put in the show bags for the kids. I fuelled up at the Cotton Creek Bowser, they gave us a discount off the normal $4 a litre for non residents as a token of good will, and we only had to pay the local rate of $3.05 cents instead. On the way out I ran into Pete, a Cotton Creek elder. He had 2 flat tyres and his compressor had exploded. As we fixed him up I got talking. I told him we are back for the carnival and he was very excited. We finished pumping up his tyres with the compressor on the truck, and as we parted ways he said “I’ll put your name down for a Guernsey for the  Parnngurr team!”. I’m not sure if that was a good thing but it looks like I’ll be playing in the football derby now!

Day 9
Nullagine
The 25th April
We arrived last night about 8pm in Nullagine. The last 50 kilometres into town was by far the worst I have seen anywhere at all. Many creeks and floodways cross over this undulating land, flowing down the sides of the endless ridges. The resulting washouts in the road are very common. Most of them have etched deep but narrow groves in the road that can not been seen until you’re right upon them. Where the roads have flooded and turned to red clay then been driven over by trucks, ruts and grooves grab the wheels and jerk the truck in alternate directions. By the time we had reached Nullagine it was 8 hours on the road. But the last hour we were down to a snail’s pace, the road was so bad. We were all a bit disappointed to discover that there was no Telstra coverage here and a little bit surprised, considering there was a pub and a post office. I found a old pay phone in a fridge at the side of the dongers and so was able to let a few people know we were safe and make some arrangements for the concert in town. It was ANZAC day and so Tony, Emily, Ewan and I went up to the lookout for the dawn service. That was a good decision and a stroke of luck, because every single person in town was there. The two local policemen, the store owners, the pub manager, and the local Shire representative. I met a couple of the elders from the community and all of the local residents. A grand total of about 15. The pub donated 3 kilo of sausage meat, the store opened up especially for us on Easter Monday and the local police gave us a heap of footballs, t-shirts and other assorted goodies to give out at the concert. I was able to reach Sharon from the East Pilbara shire and they were very happy to support the change of plans, and it looked as if we had a great amount of ground support. Emily made up a black and white flyer which Tracy from the Caravan Park printed, and the police ran off a heap of copies for us. We put them up all over town and then went down to the community to give them out. It turns out there is a heap of Punmu mob here and they told us about the roads. We were very glad we had decided not to attempt it. But other news was, that almost everyone we spoke to was heading out of town for the sorry business at Meekatharra. It seemed that it could be very light on in town! However we made a couple of friends who became dedicated fans. Ethan and Steven, two brothers that took a shine to us. We pumped up one of the footies the police gave us to have a kick with them then offered to let them have the footie and soon we had two very happy little campers. Later that day they took us up to meet their mum and family in the community and we discovered they were all from Marble Bar. They were supposed to head home that day but decided to stay in town for the concert just to see us. Stephen and Ethan had formed a little fan club around us and now we were assured of a at least an audience of two! Well that’s enough for me to set up the truck and do a show.
After we had finished doing what promotion we could, we headed out of town for a swim at Garden pool. Tony and I spent about 3 hours trying to swing from one rope to the next, Tarzan style, across the 2 rope swings hanging over the creek. The best we could do was two in a row but hilarity prevailed and anyone watching would have thought us mad. We lit a huge fire by the river side and cooked a whole mutton, wrapped some spuds in alfoil and threw them in the coals, and boiled a massive amount of tea in the billy. The guitars came out and a sing-song lasted well into the night.

Day 10
The 26th April
Nullagine
I woke up on the grass alongside the truck the dawn was heating the land quickly. There was none of last night’s chill in the air and at 6am I was already hot under the swag. As I was rolling it up Ethan and Steven passed by the gate bouncing their new football and came into investigate the life’s of white men. To these kids we are rich. Even with my Spartan attitude and few possessions I am a treasure chest of goods, goods that will mostly remain outside of their material realm in this life. There is nothing like a good reminder of how fortunate I am and it is good to remember when driving through these remote towns that this big white Landcruiser and our shinny white cars are a symbol of the greed that took away their land. Ownership, or the desire there of, is the burden of the westerner, the dubious quality  of which will, for the majority of Indigenous Australians, allude them, along with the properties of material collection by which we measure our success. This mysterious white burden, imposed on all in the wake of capitalization, is called desire. It is the advertising campaign of the western idea of happiness, and this type of happiness (our type, the type based on need and material gain) is what we have offered the Indigenous residents of this country in place of what they had, which for 60,000 years, was everything they ever needed.  Now that is an irony, is it not! We found a culture living in perfect harmony with the environment and at gun point, offered it material success instead! Material ownership comes low on the list of priorities in the Indigenous culture. Family is first and all others below. Material things, most probably somewhere near last. I am not saying anything should change, or that I know how to fix it, I’m just saying it is good to remember this, with understanding come acceptance. When I go to Bali it is obvious that the Balinese think I am wealthy because I am a westerner. Anyone from the west is assumed to be wealthy in most Asian countries and by their standards even an average wage earner from Australia is rich beyond their comprehension. We accept this concept readily, but there is not much difference between being in Asia and being in a Remote Indigenous Community. When you enter a community you are entering a 3rd world country. You might not like to accept this but it’s the truth. Most people can feel compassion for the poor, for starving children, for Asian and African refuges and victims of genocide and war. But somehow we seem to overlook our own issues. We have all of the above issues here in our own back yard. It’s not about blame or guilt. Just recognising the past and acknowledge it. There is no simple  answer but there is a great resource of culture that we have yet to harness. Australians are focused on the resource in the ground. But I believe the real treasure is on the ground. It’s a culture with secrets 60,000 years old. These two kids do not own much, neither of them even has a pair of shoes. They are lucky to get a meal a day and if they do get given something it is usually taken or broken quickly by the demands of a large and under resourced family. The older of the two has some sort of problem with his eyes. But they are the politest of kids.
I walked over to the kitchen to make a coffee and from the veranda I watched Ethan and Steven, unaware that I could see them, they had discovered my toilet bag, Ethan was very impressed with my electric Spiderman Toothbrush. I thought for a minute he might try it but thankfully he put it back in the bag. I had a bunch of gold coins I had dropped in there over the last week and Steven found my electric razor, he had never seen one before and it must have made for a very tempting gadget to them. I could not have cared a less if they had taken the whole bag, but I was impressed when they placed it all back neatly and ran off to the next item of interest. I invited them to come pick up the guys from Garden Pool and they both  jumped into the Prado with us and headed down. When we arrived Tony and Ewan had porridge cooked and Tony was swimming. The camp was packed and ready to go. So we swang off the ropes jumping into the water for a while with the kids then headed home after drying off by the fire our bellies  full with warm porridge cooked with sultanas.

Day 11
Wednesday 27th April
Last night’s concert at Nullagine was the highlight of the tour for me so far. And as we left Nullagine for Marble Bar today I can reflect on the success of event. It was pretty obvious that the gig went well because the whole tour team was alight with smiles as we packed away the travelling stage and gear last night. The real bonus for me came in the form of an invitation by the elder of Nullagine Community, Walter Delben, to come back and play down on the actual community instead of up in the town. “Next time you come”, he informed me, “you play down there”, (pointing to the community camp) “we have some concrete you can play on”.
“Well that’s about all I need,” I laughed, a bit of level ground and a power point and we can pretty much set up anywhere.
But the real big win was getting the Nullagine and Martu Band up to play some live Country/Christian rock. I think this has been our biggest audience so far and I didn’t get a count but I know that we ate nearly 10 Kilo of Sausage meat and about $100 worth of chicken pieces. Tony was attached to the BBQ for well over 3 hours and smelt like a burnt sausage by the end of the night. The police gave me a huge bag of Footy jumpers, socks, hats and shorts, along with a huge bag of West Coast Eagles and Dockers stickers the kids went ballistic over the prizes and danced relentlessly all night. We received a generous thanks from the caravan park owners and Harvey the shire rep and I am sure we will come back to this town very soon.
We stopped at the local pub, the famous Nullagine Conglomerate Hotel, for a counter meal before making the track to Marble Bar. The old pub is like taking a step back into the previous century. You still expect to see an old prospector walk in any second with his pistol in his belt, horse tied up out the front. None did, however when I went across the road to make a phone call at the local both, who I did meet was Butler, the lead singer from the Nullagine band last night. Butler is a well respecter senior man in these parts. He is actually from Jigalong, though he grew up and went to school in Port Hedland. It turns out that Leon Van Erp (our major sponsor from Newcrest) was his school teacher 45 years ago. We got talking and I discovered that  he would also be back in Cotton Creek for the (Football) Carnival because there was a big General Meeting Assembly with one of the mining companies trying to access the Native Title claim there. I asked him if he would be willing to get up and play with his band again and he assured me he would. Among other things, singer, song writer and well educated man, Butler is a one of the Elder for his area. It is up to men like him to make decisions for the future of his people at meetings like the one that is about to occur in Cotton Creek. The community sits on top of one of the largest deposits of raw Uranium in the world. It was at the lookout just south of Cotton Creek that Kim had had pointed out the hill which is basically a chunk of uranium. The Cotton Creek community rests at its base. One of the richest deposits in the world. I was surprised to discover this and was interested to know more, like is the water from the bore contaminated? Are there any risks with living that close to uranium? When Kim had taken me up there last week he had assured me that the uranium content in the water was below the safe contamination level. However there is no real research nor evidence about the safety levels. It is pretty much accepted that uranium, like Asbestos, is safe, if left untouched.
As Butler was on the panel of elders that would consult with CAMECO (the relevant mining company) I thought to inquire as to Butlers opinion of the whole thing. Butler had been over to Canada several times to visit with American Indian Elders that had negotiated Uranium mines in similar circumstances. He had obviously done his research and proudly showed me a tattered and well used Qantas frequent flyers card as proof. When I asked him what he thought about Uranium mining he stopped cold. His eyes seemed to look right through me as he focused on something directly behind me. ”Damien,” he said, “Uranium never hurt my people, we been living on that hill for 45,000 years. Nothing has hurt my people more than that door way over there.” When I turned around the bright blue architrave of the open door to the Nullagine Conglomerate Hotel seemed to be rudely obvious. Suddenly, I was embarrassed at my ignorance. The bright sun that beat upon our big hats was lost behind its entrance and like a black hole it seemed the mystery within has sucked away the very light at its entrance. The thought occurred to me that, those doors had sucked the light from many a soul too, like a one way membrane, crossing over that threshold meant loss of whole incomes, violence and incomprehensible and utter moral degradation for some. It was an enigma of unfathomable depth, painted with a innocuous blue frame. That one little step could mean the difference between a life of culture or a life of loss. Once again I was reminded that it is easy to lose focus on the real issues, I can very easily get caught up in issues that are of importance to me or that trigger my own fears but this is never a solution. The real issues are often out of my sight, because I do not live with them or at the effect of them, therefore how can I have a solution to them. These answers can only come from within, by those that are affected. Thinking that I know what is best or even presuming to have a solution is a form of the problem in itself. Butler’s concerns were for the survival of his culture and his people. A culture on the brink of disappearing forever. Over 250 languages existed not more than 200 years ago. A treasure chest of anthological narrative and secrets. Most people of that time could speak at least 3-6 different languages to effect the complex and intricate kinship laws and boundaries. The loss of almost 98% of them in less than 200 years has been the greatest wholesale cultural death of ancient language ever known in the earth’s whole history. All Dreaming and Law was passed by spoken word, most it never shared until initiation or during ceremony. There was no written or recorded dialect. It is all lost forever. Butler sat opposite the pub with his daughter and wife under a huge White Gum. When he had finished speaking he smiled. There was not a trace of hate or pain in his voice. His old cataract eyes were deep and full of wisdom. His bare feet like thick padded rubber. The deep lines of his face full of character. Later I would learn that Butlers real name was Nyaparu, he was given that nick name because he was a house servant and one of the Stolen Wages Generation. Working as a servant basically for free in a homestead, and not all that long ago.
The 100 km’s to Marble Bar was not as bad as coming in to Nullagine from the south but it still took us 2 hours and it was a real luxury to finally see bitumen again on the last 20kms into Marble Bar on the Port Hedland road.
In Marble Bar we arrived to the same pleasant experience as in Nullagine. Warm country welcome, open hospitable courtesy. The East Pilbara Shire accommodated us in a place affectionately called the Green House. It had a huge pool table, BBQ out the back and 3 rooms with 7 beds. The perfect amount for us! I couldn’t wait to get down to the famous Marble Bar Pool and grab a dip in the refreshing water there. The water comes from a spring which means it has water all year round and is usually pretty cool too.
Sue from the East Pilbara Shire made us feel very welcome and sent us down to the police station to meet the local lads. Tom and Andrew were very keen for us to play and also introduced us to the local youth workers. We were invited to do some workshops at the Rec centre starting tomorrow and I offered to do two lots over the following two days culminating in the concert for the town on Friday night. With the plan having fallen into place beautifully, we headed home to get washed and sorted.
I spent most of the night organising all the film and footage I had caught, backing up my media and updating the diary. It is the first night time we have had phone reception since leaving Newman and I had a few missed calls and emails I need to catch up on too. And so I took the opportunity to do some much need administration.

Day 12
Thursday 28th April
Young Steven had asked his mother if he could hitch a ride back to Marble Bar with us so he could ride in the truck. I think the 2011 Desert Feet Tour will be an event that he will never forget the rest of his life. It caused a bit of friction for his poor younger brother Ethan who was too young to come, but as we left his family in Nullagine yesterday he waved proudly out the window as if he was running off to join the circus. Arms all waving from the porch, his many uncles and Aunties that beamed with amusement at Stevens departure on the Desert Feet Tour while his 3 little sibling cried in disappointment.
At the crack of Dawn he was at our door and waiting for the adventure to begin, so Emily and I took him down to Marble Bar pool for a swim. When we had arrived in town yesterday with him hanging out the window you’d have thought a heros welcome was awaiting, news travels fast in little towns and all his little cousins and friends came up to us in the main street to enquire how it was that Stephen had come to arrive in such a splendid and envious fashion. On each occasion he would proudly inform his audience that he had been on the Desert Feet Tour and that he had seen us play in Nullagine and would now get to see us play again in Marble Bar. And so it was that Steven became our promotion manager and tour guide and we all grew quite fond of the little fellow.
Everywhere we went, Steven was known by young and old, he introduced us to the shop owner the school teacher the locals and all his family. He helped us set up for the workshops as if it was him bringing his friends the Desert Feet Tour in Marble Bar and the he participated in them again as well! The workshop in the Rec centre could not have been better timed. I met the local AAC (Ashburton Aboriginal Corporation) officer for the area of Warralong, Yandi, Nullagine and Marble Bar that happened to be in town too, she was very keen after seeing our work to help us get out there again and was very pleased to hear that we have plans to visit both Warralong and Yandi in July. A real stroke of luck was meeting Neville from the DCP (Department of Child Protection) in Port headland. He was so impressed with the workshops he offered to lend us the Youth Hall for our work during NADOC week in Port Hedland in July! So we really hit the jackpot as far as networking with Indigenous field officers go! Who would have thought, I could have never planned it that well if I had tried.
Needless to say, the days events where well received by the kids. The kids wrote a song for Marble Bar that was epic. The chorus included a huge ’sing off’, girls against boys. one lot singing one line, followed by the others, trying to outdo each other. The result was an amazing choir of voices for the recording and the production for the CD was of the best quality we have managed to deliver so far.
Rob and Ewan have got it down to a fine art and we were able to leave all the kids with a fully mixed song by the end of the workshop on a CD.
After our workshop had finished, Bryte ran the mother of all workshops! Graffiti art and the skill of Hip Hop through paint. I filmed him for 3 hours as he completed a huge work on the side of the truck. The kids watched him for every second of it in awe! And the end result was so good the local publican asked him to come back and do the pub. I was a bit worried about what my great benefactor (Mr John McDiven), the owner of the truck and the man that leases it to us for use on the Desert Feet Tour would think. But when I texted him a photo of it he was so thrilled he told me to get Brian to do the other side too.
Ewan, Emily, Tony and I could not wait to get out of town and go camping. So as soon as we were packed and finished for the day, we headed off with our swags and some bully beef and a billy to throw on the fire. The others were too comfortable, so forsaking the luxury of air-conditioning and a hot shower we headed off for the night into the bush. Steven asked his Nan if he could come with us, as was now the tradition, he accompanied us on the camping excursion as our tour guide.

Day 13
Friday  29th April
Marble Bar Concert
I woke up on the banks of Chinaman’s Pool. A thin remnant of smoke indicated the fire still held warmth. Last night we were so determined to camp out that we refused to pack up in spite of a constant drizzle. I think each of us hoped that it would pass any second, so we waited in silence not wanting to give in but not willing to be the first to suggest we might need to go home. We all ended up a little damp, but in the end, not to be beaten, I drove back to the house, grabbed an awning and we rolled out our swags on the damp grass under it, stoked the fire and made some bully beef. We got plagued by ants and swarmed by bugs but even that could not deter our spirits. My swag had a fly screen zipper but with it closed it was so hot I gave up trying to sleep and in the end I sat on the embankment jumping  in an out of the pool till about 1am when the air finally cooled off and a light breeze sprung up. I woke up twice once to find a giant spider running across my chest and the second time to fight of a huge centipede that Emily discovered on her Leg. None of it worried young Stephen who slept through all of it like a Prince on a Pea.
The concert was tonight and we had workshops to run today as well so it was on with business. I realised that even if I bought all the sausages in town I would not have enough food for the BBQ tonight. There are only 2 stores in Marble Bar, one of them is the roadhouse.
When I suggested to Sue that we might benefit from some form of contribution from Marble Bar for meat on the BBQ she gave me the name of the manager of the local station, Kevin out at Limestone. He was happy to oblige and so all that remained was to give the concert a good plug. Steven took me out to the ‘Block’. The name given to the community at Marble Bar. Unfortunately it was mostly empty, the school holidays and sorry business at Meekatharra now a common theme on our adventures, however those we spoke to made promises of coming and all seemed well interested.
I was predicting a big turnout, Emily and I had posted over 50 flyers around town yesterday and handed out another 50 today. The publican promised to come, the Roadhouse owners told us they were shutting the store early to be there, the police promised to keep the peace, and we had had about 15 kids in the workshops that would hopefully bring their parents.
The recreation centre here is well funded and the two youth workers (one of which was the local teacher) ran programs for the kids here during holiday times like this. So when the police introduced us to Mellissa and Lauren and we told them what sort of workshops we could do, they both nearly fell over dead with their leg in the air. Never have we been in such demand before. Once again a little rural town just turned it on, the hospitality was overwhelming and the support for the concerts and workshops was worth every second of the effort to get there. after Candice’s workshop I drove out to Limestone with Tony to pick up the meat for the BBQ. As we arrived Kevin and his Jackaroo informed us that he had just looked in the cold room and that he was out of meat. “Not to worry,” he assured us, “that’s easy fixed.” I left Tony at his services to help cut up a fresh heifer and they headed out bush to bowl one over while I made for town to begin the set up. Looks like we are going to have a little more than just a sausage sizzle tonight! A bit of topside and some porterhouse too!
The venue for the concert in front of the local Civic Centre was very comfortable with a big grassy area and lots of lighting and chairs available. A beautiful old building and full of really great information if your ever passing by. Marble Bar was the host of the Invisible Landing Strip during WW11  that enabled bombing attacks on the enemy that they could not return, the invisible air strip remained undiscovered until the war’s end and was supposedly a large factor in the war effort. The Japanese were reported to have been very frustrated by its secret location.
The night went exceptionally well, of note was the quality of the BBQ and the endless supply of steak sandwiches! The other event that really made the night was playing the Marble Bar song that the kids had written for their song writing workshops. We got them all up on the stage in front of a Microphone and played it with a full band. They were absolutely thrilled and the parents very impressed. I would have to say that the outcomes with regards to the workshops, are the best ever.

Day 14
Saturday 30th April
Back to Newman      
The Truck left early along with Emily, Ewan and I, to make for Newman. The roads would be bad so we allowed 6-7 hours to make the 300 kilometres back to town, our last chance to fuel up, get groceries and have a day off before heading back out into the desert for the last week of the trip. We made it in 5 hours and had time to do some shopping before the close of business.
I decided to celebrate a bit and took every one to dinner at the Newman Hotel Restaurant after which  a few of the team went out to experience the Newman night life while the rest of us took the opportunity to get some rest and relax, before we had to make the arduous journey back out to Cotton Creek again.
Tony and I took the opportunity to repack all the food stores, wash out the grimy esky, stock up on ice and make sure we had everything for the next week. After I had backed up all my footage, updated the diary and edited some photos for the web site it was well late. We had talked Candice into coming camping for a night on the grounds that we bought her a tent. So we decided to break up the huge drive to Cotton Creek by camping the night at the renowned Kalgan Pool camp site.

Day 15
Sunday 1st May
Kalgan Pool
On the map it was only 20 k off the Marble Bar Road just south of the Jigalong turn off but it was by far the worst road yet. In the truck it took over an hour and parts of the road were very close to impassable. I only just managed to get over one section without the truck tipping over and of course I had to get back out yet too. Thankfully that was the worst of it and arriving there was a reward worth the effort. Kalgan’s Pool lies in a small gorge and the track there is basically on the river bed made of flat river stone rocks, so when it is running it would be impassable for most of the year. However, when it dries up, the small gorge holds water all year round and over time has become very deep. This made for some awesome cliff diving action by our commando dare devil unit, Tony. Who challenged us all to vertigos by just watching him! The resulting film was breath taking and of course I had to have a go too, not to be outdone. We camped by the waterside under a huge cliff face 200 foot high. The Southern Cross beamed like a street light between the open gorge walls to the south and the Milky Way flooded the cosmos above us as the camp fire threw a red glow across the face of the cliff. It was a spectacular night the scenery was so amazing that we did not want to sleep. Rob and Ewan busted out camp songs till late and when the embers had died to a dull glow I lay wide eyed in my swag staring at the stars till dreams took me from my bliss like a thief in the night.                                                                

Day 16
Monday 2nd May
Road to Cotton Creek (Again)
I was up at the crack of dawn. I figured that the sun would rise across the far wall of the gorge and I wanted to get a time lapse photo shoot of the sun creeping up the red face. I loaded the fire with wood and woke the others with a brew of coffee and wood fired porridge with banana and pear at about 630am. I knew we had about 8 hours on the road to Cotton Creek and that did not include the hour to get back to the main road. I had left my battery charger in Newman so I sent the fast car back into town while the truck laboured on. We met up at Fortescue River crossing where I stopped and did some running repairs to the truck while waiting for the Prado to catch up. We arrived back at Cotton Creek around 4pm and had time to freshen up before heading off to the creek to camp out. Unfortunately, when we arrived, the freezer at the shop had stopped working and Stretch had had to call in the fridge mechanics. This had left us short on accommodation and only Candice and Brian had a room back at the house. So Tony took the Prado out to the Creek, where the kids had taken them swimming last trip, and set up camp by the river. I know I mentioned the bugs out here last time but one thing I have to tell you about the desert is the flies. If you thought it might be a little uncomfortable with the endless heat, red dust and shortage of water, try adding prolific abundance of little black flies to the equation. They have a clever knack for flying into your mouth as you inhale and thus ones protein intake is inadvertently substituted. They swarm around you like a cloud and the only reprieve is when the sun goes down. At which point they disappear, apparently to go to bed I suppose, but the relief is enormous and extremely noticeable. So at the camp fire that night we sat under the stars listening to the fire crack, celebrating the absence of the constant need to wave ones hands around ones head at the flies. Until the howling of Dingos began. Rob got a little scared, which was funny as Tony assured him they would be too scared to enter the camp, still Rob decided it best to sleep with one of the Kitchen knives just in case. Obviously the Dingos had not listened to the same rules Tony spoke of and the whole pack walked into camp light to investigate us. Wild Dingos are so beautiful, the little light brown patches around there eyes give them a mini Panda bear look that is quite cute. One thing is for sure, there was going to be no cuddling these guys, even in the darkens one could see they are super fit and very agile. Lean and sinewy.

Send from here
Day 17
Tuesday 3rd May
Although night time is the only reprieve from the flies, it seems they are very anxious not to sleep in and miss any opportunities to gather in your eye pits. I was up before the dawn but the second the slightest hint of light touched the sky, our little friends are out ‘en mass’. It was porridge on the fire again this morning and we are all becoming quite fond of it now. Tony was even talking about it before he went to bed and I dreamt I was in a huge bowl of it, just swimming around. The sultanas make it sweet and we use milk to make it creamy. Porridge is now followed by our traditional morning swim and Cotton Creek was freezing cold. The water was shallow but during the Wet it must flow like thunder. The banks are over 12 foot high and in places logs and grass are bunched into the branches of the riverside trees high above my head, where the creek had flowed at it ebb. So violent must the creek become it had even carried some cars away, as was to be seen by the few old rusty carcases jammed into the crooks of trees like a discarded child’s toy. Always there are similar reminders out here of the extremes of nature in the desert. You could die of thirst in a dry riverbed that 4 months ago was a raging torrent 8 foot deep. Parnngurr community was a hive of activity today. One by one, troopies rolled into town with loads of people, however none of the football teams had arrived yet. Back at the visitors centre it was complete madness. Three fridge mechanics, a team of 16 from Newcrest, umpires, community liaison officers, organisers, a few retired football stars (Peter Matera) and even a face painting angel all crowded into the house. Then just to make it even cosier, two car loads of World Vision workers showed up to run their project with pregnant mothers. The whole back veranda was lined with swags, the lounge had people on the couch and every room was full. The really good news was that someone had driven into the power line last night and taken down the whole community’s power. So Stretch had to fly in an emergency sparky and the result was that there was no space for any of us in the visitor’s house. I didn’t mind too much I was happy to camp out at the creek again but Candice and Brian wanted some amenities and there were a few low rumbling grumbles about my troops. So I seized the moment by proposing a small adventure. The carnival did not officially start till tomorrow, Alienor already had plans for a BBQ and small disco for her Holiday Program kids and we weren’t needed until tomorrow anyway. Kim had told me about a waterhole that I was keen to find and so Em, Tony, Ewan and I went looking for it while the others got some lunch ready.
What we found was not just a water hole, it was more like an Oasis, a little piece of heaven. A little innocuous dirt track leading off the main road that headed out West into the desert. Across the low lying endless scrub a ridge loomed up. As we approached, a slight valley in its centre became obvious and then some small green trees and foliage that betrayed the presence of more water than the surrounding landscape. Even from 100 yards it was still pretty well hidden but a spiral of birds above was a dead give away and as we approached the crevasse from the one accessible side, a small pool opened up to us lying at the foot of a 50-foot cliff face of dark red rock. The pool was surrounded on the open end by a pebble beach where the water must flow on down the valley during the wet Season, and an inactive waterfall at the cliff end where the rock was washed smooth was evidence of large amounts of water moving through here at some time of the year. The resulting pool of trapped water created a absolute furore of activity where native insects, birds and animals gathered, probably being the only perennial fresh water source for hundreds of miles. The ridge required further investigation and divulged amazing views of some spectacular scenery. There were many caves to be explored and creatures to investigate. The ecology of the pool was the most amazing. Massive wasps mined its surface for the water to glue their hives and they floated delicately like brilliantly coloured boats, their little forward appendages busily harvesting. Tadpoles cleaned the walls of the immersed rocks and the most amazing underwater swimming beetles I have ever seen, with arms like oars, darted dexterously like fish to and fro in prolific numbers. When we all gathered back at the car the decision was unanimously voted in silent agreement by smiles all round. As long as this was not a sacred site and we had permission from the elders we would come back and camp out.
Some extravagance was employed to encourage our less adventurous members by taking a double bed frame we found and setting it up. It made a perfect and level platform for the two-man tent and so we set that up for Candice and Brian to use. When they arrived they laughed but were grateful. Tony cooked a massive pot of mince for spaghetti bog that gradually, under the influence of Rob, became a sort of curry until Ewan decided we needed to use up the zucchini before it went off and added a tin of beans too. When I returned, it had morphed into a sort of Mexican bean dish crossed with mince curry. The spaghetti turned to glue on the fire so it was discarded and thus we are it with rice and thus it was no longer even remotely spaghetti bog, but more of a Curried Risotto with beans. Whatever it was, it was delicious and the spirit in which it was cooked nurtured it further, and the company of that night, hosted by the greatness of the desert and its spiritual power, mesmerised our mood, and hypnotised by the dancing flame and absorbed in the song of the desert we died to this world and where reborn under the stars as the children of timeless land. I lay awake to ponder the insignificance of myself under the infinite sky and all my material desires dissolved in its vastness. If I lived off the land and hunted for my food I would want for nothing right now. If I had been an Aboriginal person 10,000 years ago and I had found this watering hole, I would have made it my home and been happy. I would have looked from this ridge and seen the dry landscape, pretty much as it was now, and I would have said, “wow this spot is beautiful, I will stay in this area and start a family. I will have all the food I need and we will live in peace for the rest of my life!” I can see now what they had and I can see now what I will never have. I can see too what was taken away. Anthropologists have now carbon dated the remains of camps and caves in this very area that prove it was successfully and permanently inhabited from 20,000 years ago. Strangely enough there is very few kangaroo in this area. It is too dry and water is too scarce. In fact I have not seen a single Kangaroo since Jigalong. It’s just so barren out here that it would seem impossible to live at all. But live they did.
That night I had a dream. As we slept a man stood on the cliff above us. In the dark night his silhouette was a black shape against the stars. But the white paint on his face, chest and legs reflected the fire. He stood with on one leg on the other, foot resting against his knee. He balanced on a long spear. He looked down on us and I could hear him think. He knew that the white man had now come and that this land would change forever. Then all of the sudden I was in a city and people were running in all directions, screaming with fear because there was someone on the cliff dressed differently and covered in paint. Then there were gunshots and the man fell into the pool. I was now back alone at the pool and I held him in my arms. All of a sudden I realised it was Butler, and I was telling him, “I’m sorry Butler, I’m sorry” but he just looked a me and he said, “tell those people not to be scared, because I will now join my ancestors and this is ok.” Then I was crying and I said, “but Butler, these men have come to take your land you must get up and fight” but he only smiled and said “this is not my land Damien, it is the Great Spirits land and no man can take it, that is the Law.” 

Day 18
Wednesday 4th May
Football Carnival at Cotton Creek
I woke with a start. It was 530am. I looked up at the cliff then around me, everyone was asleep. Then I noticed the tent flaps were open. When I looked inside it was empty. I scanned the area. Nothing. That is strange, Candice and Brian are usually the last ones up and they never get up before dawn. I slept right next to the tent, and I am a light sleeper but I did not hear them leave. It would not have been easy in the dark, they would have had to have walked over me and through big rocks and long grass to get anywhere, and I didn’t hear a thing. I ran down the track to the cars and from the top of the valley I could see both cars. They hadn’t taken a car. They had vanished into thin air! I ran to the top of the ridge thinking maybe they had gone for a walk along the creek bed to the south. From there I could see forever in every direction. Nothing. When I got back to the camp Tony was up and I was just about to tell him the story when Candice and Brian walked into camp; fly nets over their heads, carrying their blankets and pillows, still in their pyjamas, half asleep and not too happy. They had not been able to sleep in the tent because the bars of the bed frame had been too uncomfortable. So they had got into the car, and of course with the seats back I could not see them in there. However, they had got too hot, and when they opened the window to cool down, got plagued with flies. I offered them some coffee and porridge but Candice just wanted to go back to the community, so I drove them in and came back to the rest of the guys.
The coals had nearly fallen silent. I stoked them with some fresh wood and put on a large billy of coffee. We had run out of coffee powder last night but I had soaked beans in the billy over night and the resulting brew was powerful good. I made a huge pot of porridge as the others gradually awoke and we all took a brisk dip in the magic pool. The carnival would not start till late morning and Kim had told me about some flood plains out here that would have water this time of year especially after all the rain. It was only 7am so we went for a bit of a look around. The spot we where looking for was south east and the trail very bad and unused. At times it had washed out and we had to detour into the grass and try to pick up the dirt track again further down. Somewhere out there we crossed the Canning Stock Route and drove into a huge valley along a vast range. At the end of it the land turned into a White Gum valley that looked like it had been burnt out, till I realised that it was water, not ash, and the track turned into a lake. The land before us was a forest of White Gums soaking in ash coloured brine. The flooded plain was impassable by car or foot. We got out of the car to walk around, but a step in the wrong direction and you sank to your knees in clay. The silence out here combined by the vastness is profound, the landscape is ambivalent; Treacherously dry, or dangerously wet. Hard ground can turn to deep mud over night. Swamps can turn into scorching waterless plains, but the diversity is astounding.

Back at the community, things were really heating up. A huge 4x4 bus had arrived last night bringing the whole Warralong Football team. Another bus had arrived from Telfer via Newman, a massive drive, with the Kiwirrkurra and Punmu Football teams. Nullagine were still on their way, but the Jigalong team (although the closest community) was missing altogether. Steve had arrived during the night then turned the bus round and driven all the way back into Newman to pick up more people (a huge effort). When we went down to the footy oval it looked like tent city. Swags and cars lined the edge of the field along the far side. Little Parnngurr had gone from a sleeping forgotten community next to a uranium rock, to a thriving metropolis of excitement over night!

We sorted the truck out for the concert that night and Stretch put us all in the rec’ hall, where we had done the workshops last time we came. The arrangement was great because it meant we could set up the truck right in front of the veranda, use the shelter of the car ports and the eves in case it rained (which was looking likely) for the punters to gather under and it formed a nice little courtyard that would accommodate at least 200-300 people with ease. There was a good spot in the corner for Tony to set up the BBQ and best of all when we finished each night, all we had to do was wheel the speakers into the rec’ hall along with the sound gear and then throw a tarp over the stage and leave the whole thing set up. It would save us 2 hours a night for the set up and even more when we packed up.

After we got ready we headed for the Footy oval. Now I have to digress momentarily to explain, when I say football oval, I mean a strip of red desert cleared of Spinifex and levelled as best as could be expected with limited resources. Really it would be more adequate to call it a rock field, or a dirt patch. What you have to realize when trying to draw the mental picture of a footy field out here is that there is no grass. None! Even if there was there is no water to grow it, there are lots of little rocks and the ground is not soft. It is hard, hard like a gravel dirt track. I recalled a comment from Brian (policeman) earlier he said to me, “you only bounce up.”

Not only are these guys pretty serious about their football, they are phenomenally good at it, and that is an understatement. The Royal Flying Doctor Service was on standby, an extra nurse was called out, and the police came up all the way from Jigalong. The next three days will be an event, a spectacle of epic proportions, played out in relative obscurity under the harshest conditions on the earth’s surface. A dusty, stony, red field with a huge mountain of uranium as the back drop. The ‘Carnival’ as they call it, is something you have to see before you die. I hope you get the chance, I hope you are as lucky as me.

I have to stop here and give some credit to the Newcrest guys that organised this event, it is a massive effort and they worked hard to make it happen. All the teams here have had coaching instructions from pro footballers and all the players are coached throughout the year for these events. The guys train really hard for their teams and are well inspired by the actions of the Newcrest mob. The logistics of making an event out here happen is incredibly complicated. Not only because of the remoteness of these places and how extreme the conditions get, but you can spend a year organising something then if someone dies, ‘sorry business’ will take priority over everything. Sorry business can last for weeks and is pretty common.

Desert people are incredibly shy, they rarely make eye contact and are very reserved (except for kids that will hug you and cling to you anytime), and so the concert started out pretty mellow with Tony’s magical skills on the BBQ attracting a few people. The remainder of our heifer from Marble Bar was polished off real quick and the mob equalled about a hundred strong as we started the show. As the concert progressed we had the kids dancing, as is the norm’, but we were plagued by a constant drizzle. The set up became difficult because to keep every thing dry with tarps it reduced the visibility of the stage. However Ewan’s enthusiasm was the motivation and he insisted the show must go on. I’m glad we did, because later that night I asked if there were any local bands that wanted to get up and we made the offer public to record any artists or bands that wanted to do some studio time.  The offer was met with much interest and after the concert we were approached by several of the mob. Rob and Ewan began recording arrangements with one guy straight away and had 3 songs ready for him before we left!


Day 19
Thursday 5th May
Football Carnival at Cotton Creek continued.
Having the Rec’ centre to bed down in was a big win for the team. It made the pack up last night super fast as we just dragged the sound equipment, instruments and font-of-house into the room we were staying in. Although the turnout was good, the rain was a real dampener for the gig last night as the equipment was all a bit muddy and damp. Tony and I borrowed a few tarps and strapped them around the stage in case the wind picked up. Luckily though it was just a steady drizzle and in the morning it had cleared. The Nullagine Mob had arrived during the night and a few more cars had pulled in too so the football fever was intensifying. There was still no sign of Jigalong and I think the organisers had given up on them by now. Steve had told me earlier that the last carnival was in Warralong. To get there, the football team had to pass through Nullagine and there is a pub there. The result was that the distraction proved too much and a quick ale on the way turned into a football team scattered to the wind for 3 days. When the dust finally cleared (or maybe the money ran out), a very sorry and sore looking football team arrived in time to just miss the grand final. The verdict, let’s just start the carnival again! I am willing to bet that the guys from Newcrest were hoping that didn’t happen.
The first game kicked off around midday, two 20min halves per game, each side playing several games per day. Each of the communities has an AFL namesake, ie the Irrungadgi (Nullagine) Dockers, the Punmu Bulldogs, the Parnngurr Swans, Kiwirrkurra Lions and the Warralong Bombers etc. However, Jigalong have still not shown up and for some reason Kunawarritji did not have a side in the carnival, nor did the community at Marble Bar.
I was taking photos with my big zoom lens when Ryder appeared on the side line. He had been into Meekatharra on sorry business with his family and had just come back out. He looked a little worse for wear but was glad to see us. He immediately gave Tony, Ewan, Rob and I a Punmu (Boomers) jumper each and then disappeared (I would not see him again now for 2 days). Before I knew it I was called in from the side line to replace an injured man and it was only about 10 minutes into the first game all four of us where on the field together. I took a mark in the rear pocket and a sound like stampeding horses was upon me. I kicked from the spot without thinking and next thing a cloud of dust covered my eyes, loud calls emanated in native language and when the air cleared the play was so far down the field I was all alone, sitting on my butt. The speed at which they move is impressive!
The next time I made a play for the ball I was staying on my man, he made a run, the ball bounced oddly. I picked it up in the clear and started to run, I am sure there was no one beside me but what hit me was like a bull, the red dirt below waiting to flay my carcass like a hot steel plate. When I stood up my knees dripped blood and my hip felt like a battered steak. Once again the play was gone like a cattle stampede in a John Wayne western. All that could be seen was a cloud of dust out of which a yellow ball covered in blood stains occasionally emerged. About 5 minutes before half time, the pack went up for a spectacular mark. When the dust cleared one of the Kiwirrkurra boys was still down and the stretcher was called. It was a broken ankle, and the first call out for the Royal Flying Doctor Service would happen now. While we waited in the backline I had the chance to talk with some of the Kiwirrkurra boys. Roderick informed me in very broken English that they had no reserve. Most of the team was unable to get through the roads to Parnngurr, and so their team was now down a man to 17. Knowing that Punmu had a huge reserve, plus the 4 white fellas now on the field, I offered to turn colours and Milton, the captain, was very keen.
I played the last half of the game with Kiwirrkurra and then another whole game for the Irrungadgi (Nullagine) team. Many of the guys remembered us from the concert we did there and needed men badly. Aside from twisting my knee and bruising my wrist, the rest of the games played out without major incident but with the customary intensity. I have to comment on the fitness of these guys. I am no slouch, I train every day at the gym and run on the beach 3 times a week with my dog. I have a very strict nutrition regime and don’t smoke, drink or take any drugs. Yet on the field I was left behind every time. On the sidelines the guys would smoke, eat chips and coke and then go back out and play the hardest football I have ever seen. AFL games look like kindergarten matches compared to this stuff. The Kiwirrkurra team are straight out of the desert; most of the guys are initiated males and have the customary missing front tooth.  They are lean and wiry and they look like real bush men should look. They still preserver their traditional hair styles. The posture and attitudes are still very much reminiscent of traditional ways and the remoteness of their community has nurtured their culture. Being amongst them is an experience. Kiwirrkurra Is the most remote community left on earth. These guys are the closest thing we have left to real desert people. Some of the elders in their camp where still out in the desert as late as the 60’s and have lived in the traditional desert way. Sadly we will lose this generation in the next 10 years. Most are now gone. Milton and Roderick played every game in bare feet. One game I saw Milton’s head meet with another players knee at about 20 kilometres an hour the sound was sickening, and I was sure he would not get up. Not only did he get up, he didn’t even leave the field.
A few times I had to check myself. Was this real? The colours of the desert, the deep reds and the rusty green and browns. A football field made of solid earth and iron ore covering rich mineral deposits of unimaginable value. A football game, funded by a mining company, at the end of the world, played out under a hill of uranium in compete anonymity. I saw marks that Brownlow medallists would be envious of. There were goals that Peter Sumich couldn’t make. There was team work that Worsfold would have copied. But there was no cameras (except mine) no film crew, TV stations and no crowds of screaming fans. There were no trophies to be won, sponsorships to be gained, autographs to be taken, deals to be made or money to win. It was not played for glory or for fame or for ego. Most of the players changed sides at some point or another and all of them had a turn at umpiring, boundary running and goal keeping.  There is no desire to be famous or a football star. Most of these guys would not leave here even if there was. When the game is over the payers will return to little derelict homes shared by an abundant amount of relatives. They will not complain about their injuries or how many games they will miss because of them and there will be no story in the press tomorrow. In fact aside from you and me, no one will ever know it even happened.

At the days end I looked around me. I had been apart of something much more than I could comprehend. I had just played football with the native tribesmen of the hardest environment on earth. If traditional activities could correlate into a sport then these guys had made some sort of modern adjustment. There was definitely an element of skin group warfare in their tactics and their all out fearless performance. But that night, when the bands played, all that would be forgotten and harmonious collaboration would prevail.

Dear reader, before I describe for you the concert on the second night of the carnival, I must first inform you of my gratitude. It is you and those like you that have put me here, and I can honestly say to you that I am fulfilled in every measure of my life’s endeavour. Today I would believe to be one of the best day of my life. What I have seen and been an active part of is an honour and a privilege. And I am saddened to tell you that this privilege escapes us all like sand through an hour glass. Soon we will examine our empty hands and cry, “What have we done? What have we lost? These people are the salt of the earth.” No. They are the earth arisen and alive, and their light is fading, their hour is near. No circumstances could recreate the appearance of such a beautiful people without another 45,000 years of sculpting under the chisel of isolation and at the hand of time. One thing is certain; there is no returning to the desert for them now. The question is how will the next generation carry the law and culture into the cauldron of modern pressure? And what role will we play in assisting it? Will we be the concerned friend that, seeing his mistake can apologise and encourage without interfering or will we continue to be the forceful parent that thinks it knows best?

The second night of the concerts was a night that I will have to attempt to give you a written account of with the limitations of words and also the restriction of space here available. It was an event on which I could write a whole book and still not do it justice. It was a transmission of subject matter that could be analysed into scientific data or expounded into a thesis for assessment. It was a phenomenon and all that saw it agreed it was a privilege to have been a part of that night.
Our invitations to the existing bands to perform and our extended participation in the whole carnival, our interaction with the different communities, and the familiarity and friendships that evolved from it, was enough to break the intense reserve and shyness that was a barrier to any live performance previously and finally tonight one by one each of the communities had their representative band get up and play. As I mentioned most communities have a band, some dont but most have at least 4 or 5 guys that can play. Warralong, Kiwirrkurra, Nullagine and Parnngurr all had bands that wanted to get up. The idea of a live recording was also a temptation I guess. But first I have to explain to you what an Indigenous band on a remote community looks like. They are not defined or quantifiable in the commercial sense. They are fluid and interchangeable. There is only one band for each communty but there might be 10 or 15 members. They will rotate through the instruments for various arrangements but all seem to be able to play the same songs and the same music. During the course of the night the drummer might change after each song, 3 or 5 guys might sing at any one time. The guitar player might swap over in the middle of a song and a second or extra guitarist might just start to play at any time. But no matter who is playing this is still the one band and is considered the same band from start to finish by all.
Secondly they have a style of music which I can only describe as ‘Desert Reggae’. But it seems to be very heavily influenced ( for some reason that no one seems to know) by 60s surf instrumental music like The Shadow, Surfaris, and Beach Boys however it does not matter what you play as long as every second song is Wipe Out! Wipe Out MUST be played and can be played over and over and over. In fact if you just played wipe out for 3 hours straight that would be fine. On this subject I could write an essay with the title of something like ‘the cultural adaptation of Wipe Out into the traditional Dance ceremony of the Martu People of the Great Western Desert’. Now that has to be an irony in the greatest sense of the word. The most remote dessert dwelling peoples in the world playing surf music?!
Next, in the desert they sing most of the songs in Language or pigeon mix, again several members might appear to be the lead singer. There might be 2 or 4 people singing at any time but this will always take place with a hood pulled forward and usually with back to the audience to hide the face completely. On one or two occasions we had to turn the mics’ around 180 degrees because the guys where literally trying to sing into the side of the microphone and when trying to record a song live on a directional mic’ this will not work. Singing is usually Gurrumaul Yunupingu style. High pitched falsetto in a sort of wailing monotone that seems very reverent and similar to Corroboree singing of the traditional manner. Also most of the lyrics involve themes of the desert, the land and connection to and ownership of country. I think if would be fair say that the Martu are a extremely jingoistic bunch. They are not only shy but very filial and this sort of bond is obvious in all the actions. (When Milton was offered the opportunity to travel to Perth and play on the Western Desert League to represent his community at the Eagles Vs Dockers derby he jumped off the bus as it was about to leave saying “I cant go I’m home sick. “)
The Punmu Lakeside Band was the first to break the ice. And there arrival to the stage was met with much support and applaud. A large amount of Punmu people had come across for the Carnival. Things really warmed up after a few songs and now I must explain to you what it looks like in front of a stage watching the Martu Mob dance. Infectious would be the most obvious description but how to describe the style, well that is hard, for the women have their own style which I have seen nowhere else on Earth. It is very rhythmic and vibrant and if I had to describe it in comparison, the only correlation I could manage would be a cross between Hawaiian Hula girls but faster, and an imitation of Beyonce’s choreography from that song ‘put a ring on it’. The way this gyrating and impressive hip isolation is employed on the dance floor is in the manner they describe as ‘run-in-run-out’. Which I can only assume has been adapted from American Brake Dancing footage. In this manner and usually (apart from the kids who dance all night to everything) only on the most frantic or faster part of the song, will the so inspired, run from the shadows into the light, in a moment of euphoria, seemingly injected through the vibration of certain sentences of the music, which overcomes the existing restraints of self consciousness enough to run out in front of their piers for a certain period of time (usually very short) during which the rest of the crowd (mainly hiding in the shadows) call out in hysterical laughter. Until, at a time, measured by an unknown devise, the demonstration is then ended by the subject suddenly running from the spot, as if it never happened, back to the awaiting group. For some reason this always seems to be the pinnacle of the act that generates a premium amount of laughter.
One rule that seems to be unwritten is, the younger you are the longer you can dance uninterrupted. ie the very young kids just don’t stop. And the older you are, when you get up, the more encouragement you will get from the sideline. If an elder gets up then this creates a commotion of great measure. However if the festivities persist past a certain point, it seems that after most people making at least one or two dashes into the centre to dance and not mysteriously exploding or being abducted by some force, the confidence thus gained equates to enthusiasm multiplied and at some point a whole group might run into the light where they will form a circle into which individuals will run-in-run-out, do a little jig, be applauded and then alternate. Until the song stops upon which everyone will spontaneously disappear again in a blinding puff of dust.
As for the men their style is particularly different again. I hate to try to describe it less I don’t do it justice. But the first thing that comes to mind is the traditional dances I have seen in some early footage of Indigenous customary Dancing which requires much stomping of the feet into the dirt and the raising of much dust. This is accompanied by a massive variation of jerky type upper torso movements that may or may not burst into outright Brake Dance moves (especially the younger kids that have them well rehearsed) or a sort of convulsing, rapid twitching of the arms, accompanied by a pumping of the chest. The measure of the timing for these convolutions is usually directly proportional to the tempo of the music and thus a mesmerizing pattern occurs, where-by, most of the songs climax at regular intervals in upbeat section or chorus’ regularly, allowing everyone to run into the centre, shack, jive, convolute themselves and then run back out at its completion. Thus Wipe Out the most perfectly suited song for this manner of dancing as it holds a rhythmic verse type structure, until the ultimate drum roll section draws out the seeming hypnotised audience, that proceed to draw a veritable furore of energy from the song, kick a cloud of dust high into the air and just as suddenly be completely and absolutely  gone from the site in one hundredth of a second when it  (the music) stops
One might be forgiven for thinking they are dreaming after witnessing these occasions. In the light of our stage, on a red dirt floor, under the infinite desert sky, infused with milky stars, on the fringe of the light, through a filter of dust kicked into the air by the bare desert feet of the Martu People I had a moment clarity. I realised how much I love these people. How could you not.
Amazingly, at the end of the night, when the music stops. Everyone just disappears within seconds. There is no cry for an encore or lagging audience or pestering groupies. They just go. And two seconds latter you might be wondering if you dreamed it all.

Day 20
Friday 6th May
Football Carnival at Cotton Creek,
Today was a bit of an effort to get up, my injuries from yesterday had had time to assert themselves and I had a few bruises I couldn’t ignore. I had iced my knee before sleeping so that had helped considerably, ample amounts of Dencorub and tape saved the day and I was able to warm up for another round. However not so impressed was my wrist that had lost a substantial amount of fine motor skills making it a little hard to play guitar last night.

We wanted to put on a BBQ again, as had now become our tradition at concerts. A few of the guys had asked us if we would be doing more meat but we had none left. I asked Newcrest if they felt like chipping in but they had no more resources to offer. After looking in the shop yesterday with Tony I had realised that there was not enough meat in the whole store to feed the amount of people that would be there tonight. Even if there was, the cost of food in the store is so high that very little, except the absolute minimum is brought in, like tea and coffee and flour. At $15 a pack for a kilo of sausage it would have cost a $1000 just to make hot dogs. Milk cost $4 a litre and Emily paid $9 for a pack of crackers once. The community is charged $600 per pallet in freight so with cost like that obviously only essentials get ordered. Realizing that it was not going to happen, I asked Kim if we could take him up on his offer of a hunting trip last time we came. His offsider was very keen when I sprang the idea on them and seemed a good keen man. So the party was organised and we went over to their house at 530am for a coffee before heading off.
Kim is real greeny and runs his old Landy on bio fuel. But the old girl had seen better days. The roof rack was stacked high with spare tyres and jerry cans and it looked like someone might have used it as a bit of a target for shooting at one stage too. It sure did the trick and one thing was certain when with Kim in the bush, you really felt safe. He was the ideal tour guide too. Kim had spent several years doing safari tours up and down the Exmouth coast so was the ideal guide, combined with his teaching back ground and his amazing horticultural knowledge, the result was a running commentary of the most informative nature, complete with his customary and constant grin. Kim is one hell of a guy. He was also dubious about finding game. He was sure there would be no Kangaroos as there never is or has been out here and the next available source of meat was Camel. However the government had just finished culling them back this year and 8000 had been terminated in this region, so Kim informed us. Anyway ever hopeful and intent of feeding the mob at my concert tonight, with my ever loyal sidekicks Tony and Ewan and under the local knowledge of Kim we headed out into the desert on a bio bus that once used to be a Land Cruiser. The drive was amazing and Kim took us out to where the Talawana track intersects the Canning stock route. We headed south from there across the flat desert rocky plains. Kim informed us that in this area he had seen lots of camels before and that he used this track a lot. To me it seemed like we were just driving around in the desert and apart from the occasional wheel rut here and there I could not see any track at all. After a time we came upon a camel carcass and we got out to look around. Obviously the cullers had found a herd, because as far as the eye could see in every direction lay the rotting corpses of slain camels. We pressed on into the desert, our hopes of finding a camel for dinner now pretty much dashed. Then suddenly I saw a heard to the left. I was sitting in the middle at the back so how I saw it first I do not know but it was big herd. Kim hit the pedal and off we went in pursuit. The scrub was impassable and the sand to soft so we couldn’t leave the wheel ruts here. By a stroke of luck the heard cut across the front of us and headed directly for the track up ahead. Much confusion ensured. In the excitement I can’t really remember what happened too well, and as I was watching it through hand held video camera, it was all a bit of a blur. All I know is at one stage I could have reached out of the car and touched one, they were so close, but as I was sitting in the middle I was stuck in. I remember zooming in on the camels and thinking that they where really close. Then I realised they had stopped in front of the car and were looking at us. I was wondered why no one had taken the shot then I realised that Kim’s offsider still had the gun in the car. He was saying to Kim “I can’t get the bullet in, I can’t get the bullet in.” Next thing I know, as if the camels heard him say “bullet”, they were gone and he was still fumbling with the rifle.  When the dust cleared Kim said “mate don’t worry they’ve gone”. There was silence for a while, no one wanted to look at anyone else and no one said a thing. Kim just turned the car around and headed for home. As we headed home I looked back at the footage on the handy cam and it was then that I burst into laughter. All of a sudden we all saw the light side of it and I broke the tension by pointing out that at least we didn’t have to slaughter the poor thing, a very messy job to have to do in this heat with the flies in droves too. Kim spotted some bush fruit that he pulled over to show us called Lipburn and I was amazed to discover in an area no bigger than 20 metres, several types of bush foods. One, a common looking weed that covers the whole area is almost delicious. Kim informed us that it is full of vitamin C and he uses it in his salads all the time. Another called Tick Weed would be the last thing you would think to eat out here. It is a sticky, long, skinny pod that when broken open offers a handful of small mustard seed looking type fruit.  It’s not particularly tasty and one would have to eat a vast amount of it to get a belly full but it would save your life if you were lost or alone. Another small desert weed that looked particularly inedible offered a very fine root when dug out of the soil, almost turnip in flavour but a little more fibrous.  Anyway the hunting party didn’t return home completely empty, at least we brought some desert vegetables for dinner and as for tonight’s BBQ? Well, it looks like well just have to have a big concert and that’s it.

Back at the field I was amazed to see some of the guys up and about that had taken some big knocks. Roderick had his leg strapped and was busy taking off the bandage the nurse had made for him so he could play again. A few missing players had shown up now and the team coach had even arrived. I was not there more than 3 minutes when an almighty thump brought the game to halt and the stretcher was called again. This time it was a broken wrist and I could almost hear the engines of the Royal Flying Doctors. The lad walked off the field himself, he would have been no older than 16 but he held out his chest and never cried a drop. Being the loose man and sort of obvious (6 foot 2 and white) I was given a jumper and asked to fill for the boy. But there was not much time left on that game and I was soon back on the Kiwirrkurra team without too much incident. My hamstrings not being use to lateral movement had seized up pretty bad and if I never had a chance to catch them yesterday then today was impossible. I took a few possessions in the back pocket and got them away without being killed, but after one pack that had me locked in the bottom, I was pretty much a useless member of the team from then on in. I took a nice mark on a kick in but kicked it out of bounds on the full as my heavily taped knee decided that it could not respond to my commands anymore, and I limped from the ground and retired my boots from the Western Desert League for 2011. I watched from the side line as Tony made some daring play from the centre, his heart was all there and his ball skills terrific but he is a Rugby League man and AFL frustrated him to the core. Three times I saw him get possessions and break free, but not being able to just run with the ball meant he had to attempt the alien Football process called ‘bouncing the ball’, all three times his bounce resulted in a loose ball again. Once, he managed to sort of keep it going in the general direction, kicking and scooping away at it, the opposition hot at his heals. It was comical to watch form the sideline, like a flurry of legs, arms and a yellow ball in a cloud of dust doing 100 kilometres an hour, nearly picking it back up a few times then losing it again, then finally getting possessions again only to be swamped by players in hilarious ensemble from which he emerged again still holding the ball, heading for the goals again and attempting another bounce which failed again, this time leaving him sliding through the dirt on his bum as the play passed him by like a window without opportunity. I saw him punch the sand and swear and when he limped to the side line I couldn’t help but laugh. When he saw me smiling, his face lit up with his beautiful big white teeth all ablaze. Tony is a diamond in the rough for sure. Tough as boot leather, a boxer and rugby player and a painter by trade. He grew up in the bush and so loves it with all his heart. He played a great game and like everything he did, gave it his all. I saw him go up in the pack a few times and he played ruck with courage. One thing is certain is he got some street cred’ from the locals for his efforts. Everyone has their peculiarities but you can always count on Tony to say it how he sees it. He is honest to the point of sensationalism. He would rather hurt your feelings than lie but he would never let you down. I remember arriving in Cotton Creek the first time, Rob and I waving away at the assaulting mass army of flies burrowing into our eyes. Rob looked at me and with great concern and hoping I had a solution said “I can’t handle these flies Damien” Tony standing calm and relaxed said “rub your skin with olive oil it’s working for me.” We both looked at Tony with awe and admiration, his knowledge of the ways of the bush and his secret cure a prize worth respecting. “Is that one of your surreptitious bush remedies? Handed down through the generations?” asked Rob. “Nah, I just had dry skin” answered Tony.


The third concert was anticipated by a larger audience, probably because word got around, our further activities on the football field and the continued arrival of some late comers to the carnival. And most impressive was the recording from the previous night. Rob spent the whole day, recovering from a knee injury at yesterday’s football match which gave him a good excuse to sit on his swag and mix down the tracks. In the late afternoon he was handing out the newly pressed CD’s to some of the guys and when I was setting up the truck for the gig, I saw the Punmu Lakeside boys pull up in their black Hilux, insert the CD in the cars audio and then drive off with the windows down and the music up around the community, (a distance of no more than a few hundred metres from one end to the other) several times, like the boys from the hood, and in this manner they became our promotion representatives.
As a result of the CD’s the other bands were very keen to get up and thus we had bands waiting to play from the get, go! Tonight was very much about them and they ruled the stage all night. Candice myself and Brian all trimmed our sets back to 15 minutes each in order to make more time and just as well we did as it was 12am before the last of the dust settled.
Tonight was a repeat of last night’s events only with much more enthusiasm and perhaps a few more people. Of real note was one of the Cotton Creek guys that performed 3 solo songs he had written himself and wanted to play to the community. It was so good that we all stood motionless, hanging onto each word, his rock Ballard, desert, country songs full of emotion and well spliced acoustic melody. He had showed Rob his songs earlier in the day, and he was so impressed he got up and played bass for him and got Candice playing drums. We offered to record the tracks for him during the concert that night and finish it off before we left tomorrow. The crowd went wild and Clinton was the star of the night, his final song a chilling tribute to his elders, “who will be left to remember? My culture, my country, my elders, all gone.” A haunted silence hung on his last note till applaud broke the spell.
The Kiwirrkurra band had rehearsed at sound check for nearly 20 minutes, and were very keen to get another recording of their set tonight. They were in fine form and the dancing started instantly. My exertions on the football field, the 5am hunting trip and the last few weeks of constant travel finally caught up with me. I could hardly move by the time we had finished setting up and I was banished to the side line by sheer exhaustion by the time the concert started. However, Ewan had enough enthusiasm for us both and captured great footage of the dancing by running into the circle with the handy cam, much to everyone’s delight. I was, at a few points, unable to contain myself, so infectious was the energy of the dancing. And like a planet drawn into a black hole a I found myself attempting to imitate the dust stomping convulsions of the desert reggae dance etiquette, much to the amusement of those surrounding the dance circle. The sky had closed in with ominous clouds, a steady drizzle had become our companion. The dust turned to mud and splashed up our legs but nothing could stop the music, on a stage all taped up with sheets of plastic and makeshift covers to keep the rain of the electrical equipment, every spare awning drawn, and a web of ropes holding tarps to awnings and plastic sheets to the roof of the stage, we played on into the night. Every now and then I had to empty the collected water from the roof tarp with a billiard table cue and when the water hit the ground the kids would run into the puddle and stomp in its red slurry without the slightest care in the world and we danced in the rain like sprits released and the desert was our witness.

Day 21
Saturday 7th May
Grand Final Day
As the teams played their final 3 matches for the carnival, my team completed a full break down of all the equipment and the stage back onto the truck. Hampered by the drizzle that threatened to pour any minute, it was midday by the time we had loaded the gear, fuelled up and where ready to roll.
In the mean time Rob had completes the tracks for Clinton and they had 3 songs finished by the time we were ready to leave. Expecting a good 8 hour drive to get back to Newman, I was keen to make tracks as soon as we could. After our goodbyes and thank you’s, it was 2pm before we drove out of the community. In a stroke of sheer luck, we met the council road workers only 50 Kilometres out of Cotton Creek and the roads had been graded all the way back to the Jigalong turn off, which sheered nearly an hour off our journey. It was dusk as we turned west towards Newman and the hazy clouds had cleared somewhat, now leaving gaps for the sun to fire its beams of light through. Bouncing off the fragments of the deserts sands whipped into the sky by willy-willies, the beams kaleidoscoped into a hundred shades of red. And as we drove out of the desert, as if to mourn our departure, the sky bled a deep crimson sunset. The horizon like a fading ember burned its self out till the darkness left me with those last sites to remember and the world closed in around my headlights till the land outside was no more. Until the lights of Newman glowed up in front of me. And I thanked the power above for the gift I had been given.

Day 22
Sunday 8th May
Homeward Bound
As I write my final entry for the trip I reflect on the 22 days just past. Now with a fair wind at our tail and a downhill run, the Desert Feet Tour heads for home. The 1200 Kilometres before us fall away like the red sand from our tyres and with every mile the land changes before us. I reflect on the people I have met, and the characters I will never forget. Most of all I am reminded of the company of the Martu people; their stoic, silent preserve and their quiet strength often mistaken as a weakness. But the Martu are not weak, they have waited and watched for thousands of years. The material drives of the city will soon envelope me again. The advertising campaigns that require me to consume and to need will be upon my ears and eyes at every turn. I will see everywhere what I don’t have and be told constantly what I need to own in order to be happy. And I will seek happiness as is my right?! Mean time behind me in the desert, the Martu will sit still and wait, as they have since the beginning. Watching white men like me come and go in their crazy dance, offering this and that and then racing off again. I often wonder; who really has the most to offer?

Day 23
Monday 9th of May
Dear reader, I would like to thank you for joining me on this journey into the heart land once again.
It has been my pleasure to be a volunteer on this adventure. Once again I must reiterate that I do not presume to have any answers, I just want to bring positive light to a treasure of immeasurable wealth; our Indigenous population and the fragility of their existence. Pressured on all sides, the western world will soon give them no privacy. The internet will soon reach the western desert and that will make all manner of visitors available to remote areas. As the distance and isolation become less of a threat through modern technology, satellite phones and ever increasing vehicle safety, more and more people will visit, pass through and explore the untouched lands of our remote deserts in search of gold, adventure and retreat.
So far for the past 4 years I have worked as a volunteer for VOW. I do not wish for any reimbursement, I have received payment enough being able to contribute, that is my privilege. Nor am I asking you to do the same thing, or make the same sacrifices, I ask only that by word of mouth or financial contribution that you might enable me to be the conduit through which these actions can continue to occur, if you think they are so worthy. For it might seem to you that I have run educational workshops into remote communities, however that is just one front, the real education is for us. It is the rest of Australia that needs to learn more about Australian Indigenous history, and it starts with us and our children. There is very little time left.

Desert Feet Tour 2009
14 May 2011

Day 1 Desert Feet Tour
Wednesday 14th October 09


We left Perth today with 3 cars, eleven people (six performers, two drivers and a sound guy, and Emily and I) I am $10,000 under the projected budget in funding and still await two organizations to honour their pledges. I made the call and rather than cancel the whole tour, we drove out of town on a whim and a prayer.
Running a tight budget is sort of like being on the run from the law; I feel like I am getting somewhere but a sense of impending doom lurks in the distance. Maybe that is what makes us human, our willingness to hope, maybe I am just irresponsible. Only time will tell.

But please allow me to thank you for joining me on the second annual Music Workshops Tour into the remote Kimberley’s. My vision for this Tour feels far larger than my ability and this morning I was plagued by doubt. After a 4am start from Perth, in the loneliness of the road my mind had already assassinated my musical ability as ridiculous and boring and declared myself as an over ambitious fool, luckily I know better than to listen to it too much. Every one else seems happy and excited, so I’ll trust to the plan.

The first fuel stop cost $450 for the 3 cars; at Paynes Find I saw an article in the paper about some band touring though the remote Kimberly’s, and it was not about us. I must admit after all this work and the second year running I feel a bit neglected by the media. That and lack of sleep all cast aspersions on my already precarious situation. I cheered myself up by eating a can of corned beef with some onion and cheese on crackers (A diet I might have to get used to on this budget).

We should be at Newman by night fall so I have some time now to write to you (while Emily takes a turn at the wheel) and allow my mind to wander into the contemplative pastures of the barren, dry, harsh land flashing by my window, occasionally splashed with what can only be described as ‘seemingly inserted wildflower arrangements’. Like the artist dipped his brush in the wrong tube, wild strokes of fluorescent purple, adorn the ground randomly, explosions of yellow flowers, quickly replaced by endless red sand and spindly, malnourished trees. The resilient matriarchs of a parched land, they offer the little shade the ground can enjoy. Cast down in precious little pools, they are the jewels of the oldest standing life this land has known. Something that can stay green after years of drought, fires and scorching heat deserves to be respected. In an age devoid of true heroes, where God is a smorgasbord of choices, I think I will choose tree.

Our indigenous brothers understood this for thousands of years, had regarded and connection to a place otherwise deserted. Our only interest in this land coincides with the destruction of it; mine it, milk it, forget it; who would want to live out here anyway? Well someone did, and they did it well and in a sustainable way. In this time when we are all united on environmental issues, we have overlooked a culture with a lot of answers the world could learn from on sustainable commerce, imagine that! Aboriginal Australians taking the forefront of the global warming forum. “So Mr Australian Aboriginal how did you live in an environmentally sustainable culture for 40,000 years?”

The answers are always closer than we are prepared to look. Maybe we are afraid to ask in case we have to do something about it. I heard Colin Barnett tell us we had to use it or lose it, referring to the North West, “The development of mining creates jobs for Indigenous people” he said. That’s great, but what if Indigenous people don’t want to work on a mine? I know I bloody well don’t! How we consistently seem to overlook the greatest resource of this land, more precious than gold, our national treasure, the oldest indigenous culture left on earth, some of it still in pristine condition. But not for much longer.

The shadows reach across the road as the Pilbara sun falls on our left. Floodway and cattle grid after floodway and cattle grid, miles of flat open road with triple trailer trucks, like ships of the desert, that shake the cars carriage like a passing typhoon. Tearing down the open road hurtling the corpses of animals aside in its wake, the road side is a battle field, the animal battle field. It looks like there was a war of cow’s against Kangaroos’ and there are victims of the holocaust for hour after hour. The putrid stink of decaying flesh wafts through the air-con vents intermittently. Soon the shadows will take over the daylight and then the deadly obstacle course of the Great Northern Highway will begin, where the giant black bulls are like the perfect death trap, invisible against the black bitumen and moonless night, they can end your holiday in an instant, and the roos that can just appear in front of your car from nowhere. Driving after dark up here is life threatening in a car like mine with no bull bar, I have to slow down to 80 to be able to stop in time and then the kilometers’ start to take their toll, eyes straining so hard you start to see things move that aren’t there, little peering eyes glimmer from behind bushes and under trees. It was somewhere south of Newman that I was trying to keep up with James, a roo appeared out of the darkness, jumped behind James and in front of us doing a 110kph, we clipped its tail and all got a nice fright. I realized the fragility of the situation, if I had hit that roo at full speed we would have been going home very early.
 
In the car with us is the last addition to our team, the eleventh member and our acting sound guy. Bruno Michel is a French ex-circus performer. He has moved to WA with his French girlfriend to develop sustainable communities and is interested in Indigenous Australian culture. he studied sound engineering and recording at SAE in Perth and found out about our Tour through Brian Lloyd (or Bryte MC, our Hip Hop artist) It was a last minute decision to bring him, the budget said no don’t do it but my heart said yes do it. I just remember the stress last year trying to set up the PA, do the sound check, organize the performers and then perform too. Then mixing your own sound while playing is impossible. I am sure he will be an asset and so far he has been great company, his outrageous French accent has given us all a few laughs at the pit stops as we all slowly get to know one another. He is receiving intense Australian slang lessons from the two young guys Jonah Cox (the 4th member of Moana Dreaming) and Brian. They taught him how to say “get a dog up ya mate” which he thinks is fantastic and now drives us mad with the expression.

 
Day 2 Desert Feet Tour
Thursday 15th October 09

Its nearly 930pm my poor little car is rattling along in the darkness, covered in a cloud of dust kicked up from the car in front. We are now about 2 hours south of Marble Bar and on a horribly corrugated dirt road, our accommodation is booked at the Marble Bar Motel and against my better judgment the convoy decided to push on in the night. Traveling out here is dangerous in the right type of vehicle, but in a Mitsubishi Outlander with no bull bar it could be deadly. There is absolutely no wind and the dust hangs in the air like an English fog. The car lights just seem to make it glow and visibility shrinks to ten meters on some stretches. I just filled the car from jerry cans and spilt petrol all over my legs and hands. We are covered in red dust and grime and none of us has had a cooked meal since last night in Newman and there is no chance of sleeping in a car constantly coming to a screeching halt to let cows, bulls, roos, and owls the size of emus, go by.

Every one seems in good spirits despite the arduous demand on our persons, I think getting our first workshop and community done has given us a sense of achievement but the idea of driving back into Newman on this road again after Punmu Community is not exciting. This is defiantly the last time I allow us to travel at night again.

At Newman this morning we prepared to be out for a few days and stocked up on food, I bought 3 days worth of main meals and the guys loaded up on snacks for the trip, but 3 hours out of Newman and I got a flat tyre on the huge sharp stones in the gravel roads, with only the one spare, I limped into Jigalong with my fingers crossed, we unloaded the gear and set up for the workshops, then my ever loyal and trusty old friend Geoff Talbot (our veteran driver from last year) dove the 300 kms back into Newman with my spare to pick up two new tyres for me. The show must go on. Unfortunately when he left he also left the charger for the only camera we hired for the trip. Noone discover it was missing till we met back at the turn off to Marble Bar, it was late, we where tired and no one was going to drive back 200 klms for something that might be gone by then anyway. So our filming for the trip had a very short life.

The western desert is an unforgiving land, the flat dry ground is littered with the burnt out shells of cars, some rolled, some striped bare others freshly abandoned. Patches of the land are covered with the rich mineral iron ore, just laying on the surface, glowing in the heat like rusty steel sheets. Jigalong, made famous by the Rabbit Proof Fence is quite a large community, some 500 residents live here and some renowned artists come form the Martu People that are the traditional owners. The community harbors a public swimming pool, sort of like an oasis. It is behind the football oval that is made entirely of red dirt and stones. I would love to see a game of Footy played on that field, it would be interesting to watch, sort of like a mobile dust ball of activity with occasional glimpses of a football flying into the clear air then disappearing back into a red cloud again.
 
We finished the workshops late after our adoring fan club of kids slowly dispersed, unfortunately we could not play the concert for Jigalong as we have no accommodation there. so we headed for Marble Bar at about 5pm, By the time Geoff caught up to us we where back at the intersection to Marble Bar/Newman, it was just gone dark and we had 350 km to go to get to Marble Bar. I suggested to head back to Newman, 50 km, then start early for Punmu at 5am, an 8 hour drive instead of traveling at night, Geoff and James Back (from the Kurrunpa Kunyjunyu outreach program and our other driver) wanted to push on so as to make tomorrows drive easier. I am shit scared of hitting a bull out here and resisted strongly but in the end relented as Geoff wanted to keep the convoy together for safety reasons so I gave in on the promise that they would be prepared to travel as slow as me, which would turn a 3 hour trip in to a 5 hour drive. They both held good to their word and we stopped in Nullagine at about 9pm to have sandwiches on the side of the road.


 

Day 3 Desert Feet Tour
Friday 16th October 09

 

The morning sun was hot by 630am and I vacated my swag by the grassy pool area early and set up the breakfast table for the crew with cereal and some of my auntie’s famous fruit cake. We used the room kettles to make coffee and refilled our thermos for the four hour slog out to our second community Punmu. Geoff hitched the trailer and left early with two of the crew to get a head start while the rest of us took a guided tour of Marble Bar, which took all of 3 minutes. There is the famous Iron Clad pub (more of a tin shack than a pub really) notorious for its wild nights and copious consumption of the golden nectar. Then opposite that on a little hill over-looking the pub is the town church, strategically located for fast access to redemption after well deserved Saturday nights turn into slight over indulgence.

 

Not far from that is the police station a beautiful old Victorian style rock and lime stone building, right next door is the local gym, not much more than a garden shed, it must only open at night, any other time would be too hot in there. Still, someone must use it, a big sign says “Marble Bar Gym for enquiries call this number”


We took a quick stop at the Marble Bar pool and decided to celebrate Brian Lloyd birthday by jumping in for a swim. It was a delightful little water hole with pebble beaches and smooth boulders called Jasper, a type of rock up here that polishes to a brilliant shine. It must be valuable as there are signs all around saying no stealing the Jasper. We rested under a tree like a weeping willow on the bank till we dried off and then hit the track. Emily is at the wheel while I write this, there are about 200 km of bitumen before we hit the dirt again for the last few hundred kilometers’. We should be at Punmu by around 1pm to set up and play the work shops. We are all looking forward to staying out on the community as it means we can play the concert for the community too. Then we get a day off to camp at one of the water holes up here. If they are anything like the one we just visited it will be lots of fun and very beautiful.


 I wrestle between wanting to relax and enjoy the trip and the constant fear in the back of my mind that we will run out of money. I am too scared to even look at the budget, I know the fuel bill is going to be double what we budgeted, by the usage so far. A flat tyre and new rim set us back $500! (I could have got both for $150 in Perth) and when I fueled up this morning I noticed a nail in one of my other tyres. I left it on for now to try and get as much mileage out of it as possible. We still have about 1100klms of dirt roads to cover before we are back in Newman for the concert on Sunday. And we have still not received $5000 of the funding we were promised. Just to make it interesting, I checked my accounts this morning and the transfer for the funds into my credit card from VOW has not cleared so I have no money at all till we get back to Newman. I had to pay the hotel at Marble Bar with my own cash.


There is some satisfaction in having got this far anyway and everyone seems in good spirits. I am eager for the performers to be happy so I don’t want them to worry them with these concerns. There was some slightly strained moments this morning as James Back (our tour coordinator for the Pilbara communities) wanted to offload the trailer. Geoff didn’t want to take it with all the weight so we negotiated the crews into different cars to give him a run for a while. In the end I think he was happy but I doubt he will tow it long and James has had to tow it all the way so far. As my little car cant  do it at all, it has meant James has had to drive the whole way especially on the dirt. It takes a seasoned and experienced driver to tow a load over corrugated roads.
We have pulled up at the end of the bitumen now so I will have to take the wheel out to Punmu. Will write again tomorrow. By for now.


 Day 4 Desert Feet Tour
Saturday 17th October 09
 
The turn off at Telfer to Punmu seemed like the longest 144 kms ever. There is absolutely nothing out there, some extended ridges that border the horizon for ever and endless deep, dark, red dirt, sketched onto a canvas of crystal blue. Occasional salt lakes melt into the distance, merging with the heat into mirages of shimmering light. And of course the endless corrugated, winding, turning dirt road, sometimes made of white limestone, sometimes red clay. In some places the track looks more like a river bed with high banks on either side, years of grading has trenched it deep into the land like a red river, the clay snake of the desert, the blood red road, born of sweat and tears, molded by necessity and baked in the kiln of the western desert, so lies the road to Punmu.
 
It was well 4pm before we arrived. Punmu is an oasis in the desert. Its semi lush little settlement is a sight for travel sore eyes. The customary red dirt football field is the first thing you see, its tall white goal posts the silent spectator to some of the toughest games of football ever played by barefoot country men in complete obscurity. Games played out here make AFL players look like fairy dancers, but these heroes will never be know to you or me, they are a part of the secret and this is after all a land of secrets. There are the secrets of the atrocity’s done to the Indigenous people by lawless settlers with no fear of being reached or discovered, there are the secrets of the dream time, many of them lost forever, there are the secrets of this land, its magic and its sprit, that most white people can only glimpse at.
 
We set up the stage on the basketball court in the fading heat of the day, raised out Desert Feet banners and turned on the music through the PA to attract our audience. We didn’t have to wait long, soon inquisitive kids rolled up in their customary shy manner, barely willing to engage these strangers to their little community. But once the workshops began, an audience of absolutely gob smacked children crammed the stage front, with fingers in mouths and reluctant questing stares they slowly took up the bait to overcome their shame and get involved.

 

That night an amazing thing happened, towards the end of the concert a few of Elders got up and joined in too. This was a great privilege for us and later we where told no one had ever had the Elders involved like that before at all. After the kids had dispersed we played some songs together for a while, mixing it up and doing covers and jamming live till late in the night. One of the local boys got up and played bass on a few of the songs and was greatly received. When we had packed up all the stuff and got back to the house, James had T-bone stakes cooked for us and we ate a huge meal. Satisfied, the girls stretched out on the couches and set up for night. James, Nadine, Em, Geoff and I all hopped in our cars and headed over to Punmu hill to camp out.

 

A long ‘flat top ridge’ lies to the north of Punmu. At the end of the ridge one hill stands separate as if it broke off tried to reach too far north. This hill is a sacred place. James told us stories of the Dreaming told to him by Elders. Dreaming, the stories and song, are told everywhere but the lore behind them can only be taught out in the bush by an Elder.  According to the Dreaming a Martu baby was taken by a giant eagle on his way north. He carried that eagle to Punmu Hill and there the spirit of the child was soaked into the earth. It is now a sight of fertility and couples trying to conceive are prayed (or sung over) on the hill.
 
We camped in the open on the rocky flat top of the ridge looking across to Pumnu Hill, the stars only just out of reach. We boiled a Billy of tea and rolled our swags out in the open. Nick, the Martu Healthy Lifestyle worker and the local Doctor showed up later in the night and so did Nicky whose hospitality we where so grateful for on the first night in Newman. For the first time after all this planning and organizing, I finally got to sit down with James Back and hear his incredible story. I met James through Christine Pearson of AADS, he had heard about our workshops and asked us to accompany him out to a sports day. It fell through, but James and I hit it off and started planning the tour together. He, a graduate of UWA, after finishing his Dip Ed, took a teachers job out in Punmu and after several years ended up the headmaster for the surrounding communities. During that time he went back to UWA and completed his masters, writing his paper on sustainable and healthy lifestyle implementation for remote communities. One day a lady came out to the community asking about possible health programs for Indigenous People, James handed her his Thesis he had worked on  for his masters and after reading the document offered James 1.3 million dollars to set it up. A success story of epic proportions. Having nowhere to put the money, he returned to UWA and asked them if they would back the project while he wrote his doctorate on the findings of the implementation of the Healthy lifestyle project. UWA being one of the top 4 universities in Australia, at that time had not one single indigenous outreach program and, of course, accepted the proposal. 3 years later James has been doing the $650,000 a year project with great success. He is obviously held in high regard by the locals, all of whom gave him a grand welcome.

 

We woke the next morning with a rising sun that split the world in half horizontally, down below and stretching out before us, hidden in the darkness when we had arrived last night, was revealed a rolling plain of red desert stretching out before us like an endless sea, a perfect line cut with a clear blue line of a cloudless and empty blue sky. One of the harshest environments on Earth, the hot desert, deadly but beautiful. Mesmerizing.

 

James took us out to the salt lakes, and showed us how the spines of the two giant lizards that came here to drink from he spring in the Deam time can be made out in the sand. They fought such a terrible battle that they both died of their wounds and now their skeletons can bee seen forever in the landscape. Their blood soaked the ground so deep that now all the orca is collected from this area for paint. The salt lake, like a hard baked salt cake, carried our cars across its surface, barren of life and inhospitable, reflecting the suns rays, it is the epitome of anti-life. Moore barren than Mars. But there is life here and at its edge in a small thicket, bubbles a small fresh water spring! Further around, James showed us the salt pools, these springs of fresh water, too brackish to drink, they are used to heal wounds, scabies or sores. The bark from the surrounding shrubs is then burnt and rubbed into the cleaned area, sealing it from infection. This area is sacred, used for longer than anyone can remember by the Martu people.

On leaving the community the elder presented me with a traditional hand carved boomerang and Emily with a woven spinifex basket. (apparently for her baby, they told us with much amusement.) the Elders sung us in when we arrived and now as we left they ceremoniously
 
Punmu has a population of about 350. It cost the government about $6 million to set up the power generator to run the community. That does not include road works that are continuous and housing that has to be built. Over 750 litres of diesel is burnt every day to run the giant generator 24 hours a day. It is one of the hottest places on our earth yet the government has done nothing to set up solar power. It is one of windiest deserts on earth yet the government has done nothing to set up wind generators. Why, because government cycles run in 4-5 year blocks, the results of the funding would not be seen till the following election and so the current government might never get the credit. In the mean time they throw bad money after worse and still none of the issues are any better. Anyway why would any government party care about Punmu? What could be gained at the next election by helping 350 people in the western desert?

We all leave Punmu with great regret. It is truly Gods country out there and the Martu are just as truly his people. They belong to the earth and the earth belongs to them, without it they have nothing. No dreaming, no lore, no song. And without them this land has no soul.


 

Day 5 & 6 Desert Feet Tour
Monday 19th October 09

 

The last few days have been so busy, I have not had a chance to get to my laptop and write to you.


As I recall some of the events of the last few day days I have to smile at some the incidents it is only day 6 but it seems like a month. There was the embarrassing incident at Marble Bar after fueling up all three cars and my credit card was declined. After checking the account balance, I decided to shout the crew to dinner at the Red Sands to celebrate the Newman gig success, another embarrassing moment as it was declined again. I finally got through to the bank on Sunday and found out they had locked the account due to the random withdrawals in country towns, nice of them to let me know! Stuck out in the western desert with no phone service and my credit card locked. Yesterday, when Geoff went to pick up the Trailer to set up for the gig at Boomerang Oval the trailer door fell open and the tarpaulin that folds back over all the equipment fell out and trailed behind the car like a train on a wedding gown. Luckily none of the PA equipment fell out, but a box full of camping chairs did and slid around on the canvas train till Geoff pulled up at the oval. We laughed at how fortunate we were not to have lost anything but the box of camping chairs was ground away on one side like someone had cut them in half with a grinder. Then there have been the ongoing financial troubles, our Vice Chair left for China to visit the school without authorizing funds transfers and then I got stuck over the weekend, then to compound matters there is no Westpac Bank in Newman. I’ve not been able to transfer funds into the credit facility and none of the performers have been paid yet after nearly a week on the road. Thankfully they have all been understanding, but I have spent every cent I own now to feed 11 mouths. I am hoping I can sort all this out in Port Headland and pay the wages for the crew, then have a night off under the stars at Barn Hill Station and relax before the big gig tomorrow night.

 

I have called Divers Camp in Broome and spoken to Mat Gresham’s manager so every thing is on track for the gig, Mat flies into Broome tonight at 6pm. Candice and I are in the mighty mouse, my little Mitsubishi Outlander (which the Martdu told us wouldn’t make it to Punmu) It is still overheating  a bit now, Emily is at the wheel heading for Port Headland while Candice and I get chauffeured up the Great Northern Highway on the second leg of the tour, the Kimberley’s. We will be in Port Headland by lunch to do some shopping for tonight then head out to Barn Hill Station (about 2 hours south of Broome) to camp out the night and try to catch a few Salmon. I’ve been through 3 tyres and just now the air-conditioner stopped working! So its windows open now till Broome and hope it just needs re-gassing.


We still don’t know if we will get to Beagle Bay as there have been fires up there all week. Last I heard the road was still closed. So I have handed that one over to the big tour organizer in the sky and will just see what he has in store for us. I had to turn several concerts down as we just couldn’t fit anything else in the schedule, so if we get stuck in Broome I would like to go and play out at the prison and maybe a school or two.
 
Last nights concert in Newman was a great success, over a hundred people showed up to the park and set up blankets and picnics on the oval. The evening was cool and as the sun set, the huge outdoor amphitheatre boomed the sound clearly across the park. I am so happy with the PA setup, and having Bruno to do sound has turned out to be the right choice, he is both a fantastic sound guy and good musician, musicians always make better sound guys as they know how hard it is if you cant hear yourself properly, things can turn to shit real fast. Even if you are a consummate performer (which I am not anyway) and have the best hit song on earth, unless you have a good mix you will sound like a rank amateur. Sound mixing is about 70% of the music for live performance.


By the end of the concert, the ground in front of the stage filled with kids and once our secret weapon, Bryte MC, took up the mic and with a little encouragement from me, we soon have full rap dance battles going off. Kids were busting out their much practiced moves, the younger ones imitating the older ones in hilarious tribute to their role models. Some of the parents joined in too which caused uproarious laughter from the kids but only inspired even greater participation.
 
The gig wound down early but the, jumped and danced to music over the PA while we packed the trailer away again. The night ended about 830pm with a mostly exhausted bunch of performers, but all well satisfied with great outcome, there were no fights or any drunkenness or any drinking that I saw. In all,the feedback from the mostly indigenous audience, was terrific gratitude for the tour. From what I can ascertain there is no regular concert or tour or festival for indigenous performers or with indigenous audience in mind. So the encouragement I received to run the tour again was inspiring and with a success like this I am sure I will find the backing too. It turned out that of the audience that had watched the whole gig was a senior BHP coordinator. Our conversation after the gig was hopeful and as this year BHP and Martu Media had been the sponsors for the outdoor concert, it is rewarding that they where both happy with the results of their funding.
 
Dave Wells of Martu Media need a mention here too. The hospitality of the Kanyirninpa Retaining Culture Corporation has been overwhelming, aside from accommodating 11 people at the Head Quarters in Newman, the Mart Media (a Project of the Kanyirninpa Corp) coordinator Dave Wells singlehandedly organised the funding for the concert, booked the oval with the council, promoted the gig to all their indigenous networks and then filmed at Punmu and Newman.


Dave is one of those people whose generosity is intrinsic in his nature, his calm and easy manner is very attractive but his commitment to the Martu Media project, one of the many off shoots of the Kanyirninpa Retaining Culture Corporation, is as encouraging as it is enviable. He first came to Newman as a school teacher (like most of the Healthy Lifestyle and Kanyirninpa Retaining Culture Corporation workers) he worked on the surrounding communities for a few years and now can’t leave, his devotion to the Martu is as simple as it is obvious. These people (Dave Nicky and Sue especially) bare not do-gooders, they are not activists or flag wavers, they do not blow their horns or make loud noises about the work they have done and are doing. They are a group of people working on worthwhile projects, that have a connection to the land and its people. They don’t even see the need to explain it, their feet are stained with the rusty earth like its indigenous children and they are the real heroes doing the real work that more non-Indigenous Australians need to be doing, but you and I will never hear of their deeds, they are mostly performed out in the hot desert and will never be announced or declared, they will evaporate like liquid in the desert sun, they will forever remain the property of the red soil, they are anonymous like the dirt roads they travel, their love is a bridge between cultures and though you don’t know it, you owe them a huge debt of gratitude. We all do.
 
I had the fortune to briefly meet Sue Davenport the founder of the Kanyirninpa Retaining Culture Corporation foundation. Our conversation was 3 minutes long but had a profound effect on me. Sue wears a face of long determination but mature patience. Her small frame, blond hair and blue eyes are the evidence of a woman that held the side walk she walked on in her heyday, a beauty now matured into great purpose. I said that most of the deeps out here are anonymous but nothing about Sue is incongruous, every particle of her has a presence on the people she is near and she is creating an impact on this world that will not be ignored. She is sort of like a human meteorite, radiating outwards from the impact, and Newman is the crater. I had heard from another source that the Kanyirninpa Retaining Culture Corporation now receives multiples of millions in funding for its cultural sustainability program. When I asked her about her work she only acknowledged her workers and their deeds, but I know from other conversations that Sue works for the foundation pro bono and does not take a cent. One thing that really effected me in that short conversation was a little bit of info she let slip when I pressed her about the success of the programs, not just the success but the diversity of programs, the credible employment it creates for Martu people, and the range of programs. All she offered was “Damien I have just kept at it”. “How long?” I asked. “Since 1987” Sue replied.


What I took away from that meeting can not be bought, it can only be earned. Sue is a thorn of conscience in the thumb of the mining magnates. What they have in power and wealth created with a corporate identity, Sue has without a cent. They could never be like her, but she could be better than any of them.
 
After leaving Punmu, the convoy got a bit broken up. The girls and Geoff where ready to go but I was invited to sit with the Elders, a privilege that could not be refused. We organised to meet at the Telfer turnoff, but when Geoff got there it was unbearably hot, so they carried on to the next windmill and sat under a tree. Thinking James was behind me and not seeing him for over an hour, I pulled up in the scorching sun to wait for him to catch up. After waiting 20 minutes I realised there was no point in waiting, because if they had broken down I did not have enough fuel to drive back, then back out again. I proceeded on to the meeting point to find James there already. He had taken a short cut through Telfer to shoot a wild turkey for dinner at the campsite that night. Geoff not being there was a worry, he had my other spare tyre and the fuel cans I needed. We pushed on hoping he was up ahead before I ran out of fuel. When we found him some discontents broke out about who was to blame for what and why. It flared up a bit with nothing really being settled, and I felt for the first time the difficulty of touring and the differences in personality. I hoped it would pass over, but that night arriving late into Nullagine, not long before dark, 4 hours behind schedule and everyone hot, broke, hungry and tired. The argument flared up again, accusations being made against this one and that one. I called for a vote and it was decided that the boys would set up camp and cook the turkey at Green Pool, not willing to drive another 2 hours to Kalgan Pool, they dove off. Some of the girls wanted to push on to Newman, another 3 hours in the dark, with only one spare tyre left which had a buckled rim, and half a tank of fuel I should have said no. As no one had money and my credit card was blocked I handed out the last of the cash and everyone bought some stores and drinks for the night or trip home respectively. I headed into Newman with a carload of sheilas, happy to be going back to civilisation and grateful for the car change they celebrated by singing songs and telling wild stories all the way home, while I held my breath for three hours. Sure enough, I blew the last tyre just out of Newman and we limped into Town with a wonky tyre and the fuel light on empty.

Geoff showed up at first light with an empty car and then James car rolled into town at about 10 with 5 people and a trailer jammed to the hilt with crap. Then it started all over again. So and so wanted to tell so and so why they shouldn’t have done this or that. This time I intervened, fearing the end of the tour was at hand, I sent all the performers over to stay with friends and talked in depth with each of the begrudged until I could negotiate a truce. It was resolved that we either; pulled our heads in and made our best efforts, or the tour was finished. A satisfying agreement was made. My fears relieved, I turned now to the next job of organising the concert for that night.

Dave took me down to see the oval we would play at and we strung a giant tarp up by throwing a rope between the fork of a great old white gum and the side of the amphitheatre to protect us while we set up the stage. We set up and did sound checks, and before we knew it the girls showed up to start the concert.


Day 7 Desert Feet Tour
Tuesday 20th October 09

 

After I wrote the last entry in this diary, the car overheated on the way to Port Headland. The only way I could keep it from going into the red was to open the heater vents in the car with the fan blasting on full bore. It was 45 degrees outside but with the heater on in the car it felt like 100. Lilly and Candice were in the back with the esky full of ice drinks, rubbing themselves with ice blocks. But even with all the windows down it was so hot in the car that if you touched the dash it actually burnt. Even the CD player flipped out, a little screen came on flashing V HOT!  V HOT! V HOT! I ejected the CD and it came out like a banana, warped and melted. And that’s how we pulled into Port Headland, steaming hot chicks in the back and Em and I in the front like cooked prawns, my head aching and clothes soaked through.


In Port Headland my first stop was the Westpac Bank, all the crew waited at the shop to be paid so they could buy some food and personal stuff. But at the counter the girl looked me up and down, grotty and covered in dirt with thongs on, she must have took me for some bum trying to cash a stolen cheque. She called through to the office in Perth to ask for the signatures and when they arrived neither Em nor I appeared as the signatory, making me look the perfect liar, ready to cry I asked her to call the office again and just check one more time. I called our treasurer just to confirm that we where def