Advocates for the First Nation People of Australia
Bessy’s parents were two of the aborigines I mentioned that were absorbed into the newcomers life in Albany. They worked for Henry, a government representative and Anne Camfield in the new town. Anne set up a school for aboriginal children where she organised lessons that would make young aboriginal girls useful servants but soon after Bessy joined the school she realised she had an extremely talented young lady on her hands.
Bessy was not a stolen child herself, in fact she joined the school after her father died. So it may have been something of a relief to her mother that she would be receiving an education where she herself was working.
Bessy blossomed at the Camfields’ School and it is testament to Anne’s broad outlook that she had the skills to educate Bessy beyond the schools limited remit for girls. Quickly grasping the English language in spoken and written form she was equally conversant with French and enjoyed not only fiction but also history and travel and more serious works of literature.
She was an accomplished musician of the keyboard, playing the harmonium and later the organ and a talented singer. From 1866 for a year she was the salaried organist at St. John’s Church which we visited twice.
All Anne Camfield’s young girls grew to be well educated ladies, quashing the idea that first nation people were ignorant savages but in a sense Anne had created ladies who were an ill fit in the new society with its limited perception of the role of aborigines. Some of the ladies married local white men with tragic outcomes that can only be imagined, so Anne tried to find them aboriginal husbands by sending them to missions in the eastern states where the first nation men had been Christianised.
So at the young age of 16 Bessy left Albany never to return. On board the ship that took her and her lady charges to Victoria, Bessy played chess with the Captain of the ship and later, in Victoria she beat the Victorian champion at the game.
She worked at a Moravian Mission at Ramahyuck in Victoria teaching both aborigine and white settler children. “I have begun school in great earnest,” she wrote to her friend and mentor Anne, “We sing, say catechism…. write in copy books… read and say the ABC …. They are quick in learning and obey me quickly”. Bessy also ran evening classes for the young men and was governess to the children of the mission superintendent, Frederick Hagenauer.
One of her most demanding teaching roles was to prepare the pupils for the public examination and a very surprised school inspector, having marked the papers reported that this was “the first time that 100 percent of marks had been gained by any school in the colony.”
Bessy married Donald Cameron who was half aborigine and carriages full with well-wishers from all around descended on the mission to join in the celebrations. They were both busily and happily employed at the mission, Donald running the farm and overseeing building works and Bessy, through her literary skills and contributions raised the opinion of the Aboriginal people’s intelligence in the wider community. She became a prolific letter writer, supporting local white and indigenous people to government level including the mission superintendent, Hagenauer and writing frequently to the Board for the Protection of Aborigines, until in 1886 The Half Caste Act changed everything for the couple and their eight children.
With Donald being only half Aborigine they had to leave the Mission and their eight children behind and were forced to live in a hostile settler community. From then on Bessy fought hard to have her children back, her efforts were frequently rejected but she never gave up, fighting later on behalf of her own children to stop her grandchildren joining the ‘lost generation’ as well. The secretary of the board in charge of this decision was, ironically, the superintendent of the mission himself, Friedrich Hagenauer and I fail to see how their estrangement from their children ever happened when Bessy’s dedication to raising them as children of the new culture was so dedicated and effective.
The emotional drain on her was great and the frequent disappointments were harsh. Although they were allowed to visit the mission and she at least knew where her children were the whole tragic process wore her down and she died of peritonitis at the age of 44 years while visiting one of her daughters in Bairnsdale (ironic that the name ‘bairn’ is Scottish for child) where she is buried.
Although gone she was not forgotten and is remembered today by her descendants and in the literary and cultural life of south and west Australia. The ‘Write in the Great Southern’ is part of the Perth International Arts Festival and in 2013 a book about her was launched at the festival.
Bessy is also recognised and remembered with the Bessy Flowers Scholarship, an award presented to high achieving Noongar students.
I may have mentioned Archie Roach in a previous blog. We first heard of him in a radio interview while he was promoting his final tour, his autobiography ‘Tell Me Why’ and his latest album of the same title. Naturally I downloaded his book into my Kindle library and read it and the other day Rob earned mega Brownie points when he returned from town to Zoonie with the news that Archie was appearing at the Princess Royal Entertainment Centre on the quay, five minutes away from Zoons, the following Sunday, would I like to go?
Archie was wheeled onto the stage in a borrowed wheelchair and sat half on a high stool while his pianist was to his right and the guitarist and double bass player were behind him to his left. With a low gravelly, weary voice he unfolded to us the story of his life interspersed with songs from his latest album of the same name. As he sang his own songs, his voice became energised and combined with his speech emphasised not only the pain and struggle but also the love he shared with one white couple who raised him and with his lifelong partner of over thirty years and sadly no longer with him, Ruby Hunter, a talented singer songwriter herself and the first aborigine lady to have her own album released.
Unlike Bessy, Archie was one of the ‘Lost Generation’ but now lives with his children and an ever-changing group of youngsters who need a helping hand in life in Victoria. I felt privileged to be in the audience listening to his story and his songs were powerful and inspiring too.
Although they were born 105 years apart Bessy and Archie have both been instrumental in the ongoing fight for equal, humane and fair treatment of their own people.
Around and about Albany
Most of the flat land infront of the town that you see beneath the bandstand and which runs along past the shipping docks towards the Ataturk Entrance provides an extensive area for commercial and recreational use and is on- growing as infill that started over 150 years ago. The harbour wall within which nestles the marina is an extension of what was once the main town jetty and included a railway line to deliver exports of grain and livestock. Today the railway line and town bypass run along the new infilled land and the photos you see are taken from the elevated walkway that delivers pedestrians safely from the shore-side to the raised terraces.
It also provides excellent views for the photographer and you can see the art work on the grain silos, an imaginative cultural theme carried on over many silos in Western Australia.
The big black boat shape you see on the right is the Princess Royal Entertainment Centre which helps keep Albany high up on the cultural scene and where we saw Archie Roach perform.
You may wonder why I photographed two ships’ fisherman’s anchors. Well it was to show how effectively they work in weed. The wooden cross bar lies flat on the weed or sea bed which means the long, slim and curved hooks have no choice but to fall through the weed and poke into the sand beneath because they are at right angles to the cross bar. That is exactly what our Swarbrick anchor does, but as you know at 29kg we decided it was too heavy to use. Sometimes even the fishermans anchor does not work on very hard sand and up in the recherché area where we transited overnight to Woody Island, some fishermen have the flukes of their anchors sharpened to ease their way into hard sand.
Zoonie’s location now is in the yard off Swarbrick Street, at number two (!) and Darren told us that the Swarbrick family used to live here but when they moved away one son followed his fishing interests while the other started an anchor making business, which is the origin of our beasty.
So when arranging payment to Darren for Zoonie’s stay in his yard Rob showed him the anchor and asked if anyone might like to buy it. Darren’s eyes opened wide at the sight and said he might like to buy it himself. He has a lovely yacht and has been awaiting a weather window to go east for a holiday. Cutting a long story short he knocked the full asking price off the first bill and Zoonie now promises to float a little higher as a result. “I like a little contra-account myself.” Rob said.
The red brick building with the round tower was the Post Office and is now part of the University and many of the old hotels now have quality shops, bars and restaurants on the ground floor. The sandstone building surrounded by scaffolding is the Town Hall which was filled to capacity and overflowing when, in 2013, many of Bessy Flower’s descendants arrived in Albany from Gippsland for a few days celebrating the publication of a book about her.
This connection with the past, both in the form of preservation of the buildings and remembrance of past characters, not necessarily local, combine to make this a town with what appears to be a beating heart. There is nothing cloying or resentful of the modern ways, instead the old buildings are well maintained and in good use for modern needs. Judging by the popularity of Archie Roach, who filled the Arts venue, there are plenty of folk here too who recognise the ongoing injustices metered out to the first Australians and taking into account the state of the art Anzac Centre and the careful maintenance of all the World War memorials there is a strong feeling of appreciating the human cost of achieving today’s freedom for many.
St John’s Anglican Church has set in place a roster of volunteers who keep the doors open for the busiest hours of each day and it was full of surprises for us.
The curious Anglo Saxon style of the church was created from memory and the stone was carted by volunteers from nearby Mount Clarence, a real fusion of English art and local substance. It was the first church to be consecrated in Western Australia in 1848, three years before Bessy Flowers was born and the main bell was cast by Thos Meares, Whitechapel, London, who also cast Big Ben, Bow Bells and the bells of Westminster Abbey.
And the English connection continues with the altar cloth embroidery showing the lamb presented by the Embroidery Guild of London. There are three sets of candlesticks in that photo and the pair that are at the back and fixed to the wooden panelling of the wall were donated to the church by a quietly spoken Spitfire Pilot and Wing Commander from WW2 who was grateful he returned to the peace and beauty of this place. He was very likely to have known my mother’s first fiancée, who at the age of only 21 himself trained young 17 year old lads to fly Spitfires and was in Number One Squadron. He was not as fortunate as this veteran though.
The gentleman in the blue frock coat depicted in the stained glass window was Arthur Ernest White who was Rector of the Parish and instigated the first Anzac Day Dawn Service to be held in Australia. He served on the Western Front in WW1 and is looking over King George Sound from where on November 1st 1914 the first Convoy of troops left through the Ataturk Entrance for the war fields of Europe. The image was taken with a Brownie camera by a twelve year old girl. We wondered if Padre White was any relation to our White family. We really will trace our ancestry at some stage.
We paid a second visit to the church because I wanted a better photo of Bessy Flower’s plaque and there we met two of the volunteers, Margaret Dickinson and Ian Watson. Ian was having fun with a lady visitor who wanted a go on the tubular bells, which were gifted to the church from St Mary’s on the Scilly Isles ten years ago and as these were ringing out over the town, while I enjoyed a long chat with Margaret in which she revealed she was not too happy about the Aboriginal Flag on Bessy’s plaque. “It just appeared one day and we thought ‘oh well’ and left it there.” She appreciated the fact that as organist she was following in Bessy’s footprints as accompanist for the congregation and so I hope her feelings on the flag were that it was not necessary because of the church’s seemingly open welcome to all-comers. In a subsequent chat I might have asked her what she meant.
Keels to Wheels And Marina Matters in Albany
It is 5.30am on a tranquil blue morning in Emu Point Boat Yard and a Pacific Raven is noisily fighting its reflection in a boat window, its mate calling to it from the deck of another stranded vessel. A lot of excited chatter is coming from the rowing club next door as keen oars folk prepare for an early morning sortie onto the smooth waters of Oyster Bay and I am late starting this blog.
In three days we leave Zoonie for nearly five months and there is still work to do, so today I must get almost up to date with our news; this blogger is never more than ‘almost’ up to date, so that I can tell you of our Perth and beyond adventures as they happen and while they are still fresh in my mind, depending on internet access of course.
Mark has been a constant friend helping us with errands and ideas. He sourced a fuse for the bow thruster, a totally different fuse to anything I have ever seen, and he recently visited us in the yard (also an idea of his for us to come here) and, over a cup of tea, told us about another English couple, Jeremy and Kathy Spencer (the surname is significant late in this blog) who entered Esperance near Woody Island in their Westerly Solway only to be “sent back out into 40 knot winds because their electric and gas installations did not comply with the law.”
Appalled and aroused I said to Rob we had to find them if they are still here if only to congratulate them for crossing the Bight.
Jeannie from Whangarei’s brother Malcolm lives two hours up the Perth road from here and on a visit to his daughter, Kylie just around the corner from us, he and his wife Christine had very kindly brought with them their spare car for our use until we return it to them on our way to Perth this Sunday.
So we drove up over the hill to Albany, noting the P &O Cruise liner Arcadia was in on her detoured circumnavigation to avoid coronavirus stricken parts. Some of the passengers weren’t happy that their long anticipated ports of call were changing, for me it would have become a fascinating mystery voyage, a little like ours as far as destinations are concerned!
Of course we had checked out of the marina, giving back our key fob, so Rob called to the nice chap in his shoe box house boat and he came and opened the gate.
Notice the pontoons occupied only by non-paying feathered gulls from where previously moored vessels have left because of the rising, unaffordable and unjustified prices. It seems ironic that the Minister for Transport in Western Australia majored in……. ECONOMICS!
This is Jeremy and Kathy’s second circumnavigation in their dependable Westerly Solway bilge-keeler Sal Darago and we chatted and shared our stories and routes over two consecutive cups of tea. They were a few days behind us in their crossing and weren’t aware of the moorings at Woody Island, in hindsight how lucky we had been that Hannes told us about them.
They had gone into the Dept of Transport marina at Bandy Creek in Esperance with a 40 knot wind up their tail and were relieved to tie onto something that would let them relax, but not for long. What seemed would be a secure respite for them soon turned into a nightmare when two male employees rudely and aggressively enforced the law on gas and electricity regs and told them they could not stay there unless they arranged for Gas and Electricity engineers to come on board immediately to assess the work, this on the Friday of a bank holiday weekend, another fact unbeknown to newly visiting yachts.
The forecasted wind in the next few hours was to be over 30 knots and as forecasts can understate the conditions, then to be told to leave was inhuman and hostile beyond what we had ever come across. Ironic also that the mantra for the Department of Transport reads ‘responsible for the implementation of the state’s vehicle licensing, MARINE SAFETY, taxi, ports, transport policies.’ The local yacht club berths were all taken and they had had problems getting permission to expand from the Planning Dept, another state Government Agency, surprised are we?
Fortunately there was the town jetty where they spent an uncomfortable night pitching into the strong wind fetching across the bay. Jeremy was up and down checking his vessel and by the morning nine lines were holding her secure. A kind gentleman loaned them his mooring for the weekend as he was going off so they were able to rest and take stock before setting off to Albany.
When we first arrived this same situation arose over the compliance to laws we didn’t even know about, even though they cover all of Australia and New Zealand. It seems only the over-zealous and money minded state government was enforcing them. When we told the courteous lady on the desk that we would be lifting Zoonie soon and not living on board for five months she was happy to waive the requirement.
Jeremy and Kathy had to arrange G and E engineer visits and they passed the electricity requirements with a new, screw on plug for their cable from the boat to the mains socket, but she will need to be lifted to do the gas work, so they planned to leave the marina as soon as an engine part arrived. In the meantime we arranged to meet for Sunday lunch at our ‘local’ The Earl of Spencer. The Earl arrived in Albany in 1833 and became the governor in residence and pioneer for the town, moving in high political circles, his second daughter married Governor George Grey we know from here and Kawau Island New Zealand and his grandson was named after Gov. Grey.
The fact that he shared Kathy and Jeremy’s surname was interesting and unless they have done so already maybe they will check out their ancestry.
This was our third visit to this delightfully cosy pub with its warm welcome to folk since 1884, 45 years after the namesake had died. The first time we came we sat at the bar and consequently chatted to lots of people on both sides of it. Halfway through the evening a shanty band arrived and the bar manager told us their arrival had one of two effects, it either filled or emptied the pub. Fortunately on this evening it filled it and we sang or hummed along to familiar and unfamiliar songs. One singer came out and said he had seen us singing the shanty he had led and did we hear him dedicate it to us circumnavigators? Sadly we hadn’t but how quickly word gets around eh!
As I type Sal Darago is tied up to one of the moorings where we stayed the night before lifting Zoons. Kathy and Jeremy came ashore to chat with us in the yard for a while and I have a sneaky feeling they will disappear west soon, make it to Fremantle and then head across the Indian Ocean months before us. On their first circumnavigation they left in May, just at the end of the cyclone season. We will keep in touch.
Filling the Gap – Along Frenchman Bay Road
Now we had wheels kindly on loan from Malcolm and Christine there was nothing stopping us from exploring a little, after the day’s work was done of course.
On the other side of Princess Harbour is an enticing peninsula, Torndirrup and around it numerous bays, salmon holes, rocks, points, heads, beaches, gaps and harbours. Two places were of particular interest to us, the Whaling Museum which we were indecisive about after the uniqueness and quality of the one at Eden we thought was unbeatable, and ‘The Gap’ a skywalk type stainless steel structure of the same ilk as the granite skywalk at Porongurup, but as always happens many other unexpected sights appear to please the eyes and mind like the beach wedding, in half a gale.
The wedding guests, soggy footed and windblown, made their way up the ragged wooden steps as we made our way down to the sun drenched beach where the bride and groom chatted with their friends and family beside the portable white painted wedding arch.
I sat on the loo in the whale museum deciding just how high a price I would accept for the entry and when it came to exactly double my allowance, at $32 each, $20 dollars each more than the Eden Killer Whale Museum, I decided a photo of the whaling ship would suffice and we bought ice creams instead and sat in the car chatting with Richard and the boys over a video call.
We have learned that when we set off in Zoonie again in September we are highly likely to see lots of Southern Right Whales and maybe humpbacks too, whereas now the SRWs are in Antarctica for the summer, so that is something to look forward to, I think! I’d rather see live versions having already learned much about the whaling history.
Our next stop was ‘The Gap’ and although a levy of $15 had to be paid for parking we thought the concept, design and execution of this unique attraction was well worth it. Right next door to the overhanging outlook above the natural gap and crashing sea 25 metres below is the natural bridge. I will let the photos tell the story but for us on this windy day the whole place was spectacular and an expansive view over what will be our first few hours of sailing westwards across Torbay towards Cape Leeuwin.
The second file of photos shows our return journey around Princess Royal Harbour, through Albany back to Emu Point. The photos across to the headland show the area we have just visited and at the forefront tip the rocks on the left, just in the water are Possession Point. Matthew Flinders’ men anchored investigator there while another team of his men were in tents across the other side of the headland to the south of the Sound on flat granite rock. The two separate groups made calculations on the Variation (the angular distance measured in degrees between true and magnetic North) in their separate locations and when Matthew put the two together and took the mean as 7 degrees West he was satisfied. By adding this to Investigator’s True (Chart) course he would get a magnetic course to steer.
Today the Variation is 1 degree 21 minutes West, factoring in an annual decrease of 4’ east since 1999, just for the navigators amongst you.