Delightful but Disturbing Derby - 8th, 9th & 10th September

Dave and I rode 265km from Fitzroy Crossing to Derby on national voting day, Saturday 7th. By the end of the day we would probably have a new Prime Minister. We had done our absentee voting a while ago in Darwin, so that was a relief, not having to find a polling booth today.

There is only one caravan park in town that allows for tents, the Kimberley Entrance Caravan Park, and this turned out to be a lovely well-run place with a very good camp kitchen and effective, friendly managers. It overlooks tidal flat lands and is in the main part of town. About 5,000 people live in Derby, many of them being local Aboriginals.

The next day we rode out to see the Boab Prison Tree, which had signs telling us about the terrible treatment of Aboriginals who were rounded up by white people in the 1880s, chained together and made to walk away from their tribal lands, with the Prison tree being one of the stopover points. Most of the Aboriginals captured were the fit and healthy young men, in an attempt to break up the tribes. Many were "blackbirded", meaning enslaved to be made to work in the pearling industry, where many died as a result of this dangerous activity. Many were charged and jailed for "stealing and eating cattle" that were devastating their tribal country and waterholes. Such is the story of the conquest of a culture.

At the Boab Prison tree there was information about the many uses of the boab trees to indigenous people, and how these interesting trees are regarded as sacred. Dave and I reckon the boabs look like big friendly Ents. Yes, I have hugged a few boabs in Derby! Made me feel better anyway!

Our next stop was at the local hardware store to buy strong tie-down straps, as we had noticed the tube under the trailer that carries our tent poles had come loose, ready to go flying bush. Lucky this temporary repair job was sorted early.

Our next visit was to the Derby Pioneer Cemetery. This place has a real eerie feel to it, being on the edge of tidal flat lands and bush. Excellent signs at the cemetery explain how Aboriginals did not have signs or headstones in the old days, so families cannot trace where their elders may have been buried in the white peoples place, in a manner that was so unfamiliar to their culture. Little iron plaques mark many indigenous graves and wildflowers grow on top of others. Headstones for white settlers are around, including one for Policeman William Richardson who in the late 1880s was "Killed by blacks" so the headstone says. He was actually killed by Jandamarra, a Bunuba tribesman warrior who has become a local indigenous hero. He was known as Pigeon by the settlers of the day, and he turned away from "helping" police when he found he was expected to kill his own people. I bought a book about Jandamarra from the Derby Information Centre to learn more about this brave man when I get time to read it at home. There is a saying "History is written by the winners". But the passing of time is having a big influence on this, and people are looking at the indigenous struggles in a different light today.

I photographed a gravestone of an Aboriginal man, Larry Kunamara, who had worked most of his life as a Tracker for the Police, being awarded the Coronation medal by Queen Elizabeth for his services. As an 11 year old boy he had gone on the run with the outlaw Jandamarra, he had been shot in the leg and left in the bush there, then someone had helped him heal. This man grew to be 85 years old and he was very respected by both white and black people.

Later back at our campgrounds, we met some of the people whom we have been passing on the way since Kununurra. Big caravans pulled by 4WD vehicles, always cheerful people pleased to see our 2 motorbikes near them at the next stop. And we have been playing Tag with 2 cute old vintage Riley model cars, one of them cheerfully honking us whenever we overtook them. Turned out I used to work in the same industry as the lady in one car with her husband; Georgie who has just retired as a science technician in Perth.

The non-powered tent grounds in Derby have a few young backpackers living in tiny tents, and working at local shops, to pay for their travels around Australia. Some "permanents" live in their vans at this place, some seeming to be a bit strange, not liking any eye contact with us tourists.

The caravan park is in the middle of Derby town, so it was an easy walk for us to the local IGA supermarket for our food shopping, and we paid $3 each to go for a swim at the beautiful local town pool. Derby is not a big place, just a few main streets with little businesses running on weekdays.

We were stopped in a street by an older large Aboriginal man, telling us something earnestly in his own language. Of course we didn't have a clue what he was trying to tell us, but he seemed friendly. Dave repeated a sentence of this language, a rather good attempt I thought, and then the fellow said "White gum tree…." pointed, and then "Penis tree!" while giggling his head off.

Yep, he was pointing to a tree we were next to, with a growth coming off to one side looking exactly like the anatomy of a man, balls and all. We cracked up laughing, so did our friendly dark man and the language barrier was no more!

At the local Information Centre we watched a video about how Derby has Australia's highest tidal range (11 metres) and we learned about the Horizontal Falls, which is an unusual natural tidal feature in Talbot Bay when the tides are racing. We then rode down to the Derby jetty to see the tides out, showing huge amounts of flat lands with mud at the bottom of the long jetty. Then an hour later the tides were coming in. Several hours later, the long jetty had water lapping at its walking platform. Several tourists were also amazed at how fast the tide was coming in and changing the scenery.

We got a key from the Info Centre to get into the local Wharfingers Museum, which has a spooky feel to it, being an old telecommunications house. We had the place to ourselves, though I kept freaking and looking over my shoulder!

Then we went to the most forlorn place in Derby town…the old police jail that kept Aboriginal prisoners in chains while awaiting trial for mostly cattle stealing back in the 1880s and beyond. This scary sad place is open sided on 3 sides with vertical iron bars all around, only a roof and back wall for protection from weather. The signs honestly tell the sad history, where sanitation here was awful, and the people were chained to bolts around the floor. Aboriginal people today do not want to go near this place, understandably. It is next to the Derby modern police station and lock up.

Back at our camp site, Dave rode off to take a high tide photo of the wharf area, while I was inside our tent doing some computer play. I was disturbed by a wild sounding domestic happening in a "permanent" van behind us….a woman shrieking and carrying on and a man trying to yell back. When I heard furniture being shoved and crashing sounds of glass breaking I quietly phoned the caravan park manager….I didn't want this escalating! He didn't let the warring couple know who dobbed them in, but they went quiet pretty quickly when he tapped on their caravan door and told them everyone could hear them. No more wild sounds from them…they must've made up nicely!

I noticed that local people flinched visibly if I mentioned that we'd been to the Pioneer Cemetery: why? Well, a Google search showed why. One night in April 2005 a local Aboriginal man called Terrence Dann bashed up his de facto wife terribly after he had been at the Spinifex Hotel, having just won $100 in a joke telling competition. He then grabbed 2 of his stepchildren from her house, a 14 month old little toddler boy, and a 4 year girl. He took them 7km out of town to the Derby Pioneer Cemetery and hanged these little children. This has had a devastating effect on the whole community. The poor police had the heartbreaking job of trying unsuccessfully to revive the children, and no doubt a lot of people's lives will never be the same because of this evil man, who got 22 years jail for his terrible crime. One of the little children's relatives said "He's a disgrace to his people." The poor mother of the children said he had wrecked her life.

No wonder people flinched whenever I mentioned this eerie sad cemetery. This makes Derby a sad and disturbing place, but we found both the Aboriginal people and the white people there to be lovely. I guess a sad colonial history and this awful modern crime gives Derby a thoughtful sad vibe to contemplate.

Tomorrow we are going to ride from Derby to Sandfire Roadhouse. I am glad we have visited Derby, it has made me think about life and how precious it is.