Just a reminder, the photographs I post will have the same heading as the blog for each day. I'll post my photos today as "Goonga goombar (Humpback Whale)"

After a lifetime of trying to see whale migrations on the east coast of Australia, I decided to give the west a shot. SUCCESS at last.

Dharawal friends had told me that they used to light fires on the cliffs of Sydney and swing bullroarers to communicate with the whales when they migrated both north and south. I had wondered if this was the case here with the Nyungar (Noongar) and specifically the Wadandi people. Noongar is their word for "people of this place", the same as "Eora" is for the Dharug and Dharawal of the Sydney Basin.

"When the sea level rose" is the story of Nyingarn, the echidna and Kaarda, the goanna, who were given the special role of representing the spirit of those who passed on, and the story of Mamong, the whale and Kieler, the dolphin and the special role they were given in country.

The main focus of this story centres around when the sea level rose and trapped the spirits of children underneath the sea, and the role that Mamong and Kieler played to help bring the spirits back to the land.

When the sea levels rose 10 000 years ago, many spirits were trapped under the sea. The only way these spirits can return to the land is through the whales. It is said that whenever a whale calf is born, one of these spirits attaches itself to the whale calf. After 80 or 90 years swimming around the ocean, Mamong returns to this coast. Mamong the whale beaches itself to return the spirit being carried by the whale back into the land where it belongs.

The Nyungar men knew when the whales were coming and would prepare a ceremonial knife called a Daap. When the whale washed ashore, the Daap was used to cut open the whale and when the blood from the whale ran into the land, the people would be satisfied that the spirit had returned."

As with the east coast people, there is a symbiotic relationship between Mamong and the people and it is a significant totem.

Ches gets seasick on Sydney harbour, so I set off alone (with around 60 other people) on a cruise from Dunsborough to the Cape Ligthouse. In around 2.5 hours we must have seen 40 or so whales, often in pods of three or four. No spectacular breaches, however plenty of humps and tails lifted high when they dived again. Often they could be seen just a metre or so below the surface.

Back in Dunsborough by around 1.00pm, we had lunch in the sun at a cafe and watched the wagtails and New Holland Honeyeaters (Yellow and Black). We then drove back out to the lighthouse and took the 3.5 km walk to the whale watching platform. I'd bought a gimble for my phone camera. It holds the phone steady so there is no shakes or distortion in videos. I'd practiced at home however as soon as we set out, I had "Issues". I took it off and tucked it under my arm. We retreived it from lost property at the lighthouse several hours later.

Quite a few different wildflowers to be seen and photographed along a track that is part sealed and part deep sand before we reached the lookout which is low down on the headland below the lighthouse. It faces north, which seems kinda odd. If you look at a map, the peninsular coast is actually from east to west. It;s only when you drive around to the Margaret River coast, that you find it is actually from north to south with the coast facing west.

What a procession we witnessed for an hour. Possibly as many as 50 whales, again in pods of three or more. Far enough out to sea that even with my telephoto lense, the images were not as clear as I would have liked. Nevertheless, when I loaded onto my laptop, I was surprised that some were reasonably good and could be enlarged a little.

I remembered advice given years ago, and was happy to be in the moment and not overly focused on photographing. It's estimated that there are between 35,000 and 45,000 whales traveling the west coast. They estimate that there are now 40,000 humpback whales traveling the east coast.

It was a wonderful sunny day and around 18c. A little breezy however no need for our puffer jackets and even a t-shirt was fine on the walk out from the lighthouse.

The vegetation is quite mixed throughout the national park that stretches from the cape down the Margaret River coast. It include coastal herblands and grasslands, sedgelands, and heath near the coast. Further inland are shrublands, woodlands, and forests, including peppermint tree and Banksia shrubland and woodland, and significant stands of tall karri and jarrah forest. It's only right on the coast that it is vegetation on the southern side of Kangaroo Island in S.A.

The Magpies here seem to have more white feathers than at home. They also come right up to you "begging" for food.

As recounted by Traditional owner and long-time Cockburn resident Reverend Sealin Garlett, this story uses two birds found commonly in this area to provide moral advice.

Long before there were any birds, this is when everybody was human, there were two brothers who lived in a camp. These two brothers were ngoonies and they were really close. They hunted together. They made spears and boomerangs together. On this particular day, they went hunting. They were good hunters and they were able to get goanna and kangaroo, the yongka, and they were cooking this on the ground. They said, `we'll cook this and take it back to camp, we will cook it up for the young fellas, so they don`t have to worry about making a fire when we get home.'
Anyway, when they were cooking the meat, they had the goanna on one side and the kangaroo in the fire, and when it was cooking, the older brother got up and stood behind his younger brother and he said, `hey, you know what, ngoon,' he said, `I seen a good bush over there that's really straight, a really good strong bush for boomerangs. We should go and camp there for a while.' The younger brother felt a little bit shame because where he lived, he was close to his parents, little sibling and the old people, so he said, `no, I don`t feel like moving.'
The older fella thought that this is what he was going to teach him in law, in Aboriginal way, so he said `no, I think we should go. I think you're at an age now where you have to learn some of these things. I have to be the one to help you do that.' The younger fella said, `well, wait till next time and maybe I will go.' This made the other brother angry and he started pushing him on the shoulder. The younger brother put his head down, because you know it's shame to argue with your older brother.
When the other fella went quiet, he went moorlap, see, he wouldn't talk. The older brother got angry and he picked up a boomerang and hit him on the side of the head. The younger brother fell down next to the fire and all the ashes got on his shoulder and went on his chest and on his arm. He rolled around on the dirt, trying to get the hot ash off him. And the older brother picked up a spear. He wasn't going to throw it, he was just going to jab it in his leg.

So he picked the spear up and as he was about to push it into his brother's leg a voice said, `Stop!' and he froze. He listened to see how many people there was, but there's no footsteps. Then he put his head down and straightened up and dropped his spear. He knew who it was. The younger brother, who was burnt, sat up. Anyway, the older one sat down and waited and wouldn't lift his eyes up.
Then the spirit said to these two boys, `you know, in your culture, I give you the spirit of unity. I give the spirit of being able to care for one another, but you draw blood from this young boy. You stood over this young boy like a master and that's not what I give you in Aboriginal way. I'm going to separate you boys.' The older brother started to shuffle about and move his feet in the dirt. Then the spirit said, `I'm going to turn you into a crow.' And the spirit turned him into a crow and the Nyungars were to call him wardong. The wardong went away, and to the fella sitting on the ground, he said, `I'm going to turn you into a magpie, your Nyungar name is kulbardi, and you can go away too.'
So these two brothers left. That's how the family of the crow and the magpie began. And if you ever notice today, a crow will never, ever go and share his meal with the magpie, very seldom. A crow will come over and try to boss and shoo the magpie away, or the magpie will go sit over there, while the old fella finished the meal, but very seldom will you find them together, sharing a meal. That was a Nyungar story representing not only the brokenness, but the healing that's got to take place in our Aboriginal culture of today.1
References
1. Collard, L., S. Harben & R. van den Berg. Nidja Beeliar Boodjar Noonokurt Nyininy: a Nyungar interpretive history of the use of Boodjar (country) in the vicinity of Murdoch University, Perth Western Australia. Murdoch University. 2004. Accessed November 2, 2012.