The Voice

The Lizard King has been offline, off the grid, the airwaves, and the map. I put up the ‘gone fish fishing. I headed to unfamiliar territory way north in pursuit of the prize’ metre-long barramundi’ to recharge and reconnect with my inner reptile.

A couple of 100ks east of Darwin, we entered Arnhem Land, an area of almost 100,000 square kilometres of Aboriginal land covering the eastern section of the Northern Territory and home to about 16,000 people.

It was to be more than just the ‘beers and barra’ of previous fishing trips. The Lizard King had graced an untouched true wilderness.

There are reasons partly for this – it is bloody miles from anywhere, for starters. But it is inhospitable – mangroves cover every square inch of land, islands dot the horizon, tides run up to 20 feet in and out twice daily, crocs and sharks in the water, crocs and mossies on land. And it’s 36 degrees in the shade and 100% humidity, 365 days a year!

This is no country for old men, but it is an area where local communities could live on their land untroubled by the city’s crowds, stresses, and strains. Self-determination is such a wonderful aspiration.

The fishing was terrific (no one-metre barra, unfortunately), and the experience was refreshing. But a discussion with Bob (not his real name) stuck with me. Bob, the proprietor of Bob’s Barra Camp (not the real name either), had fallen in love with the wild frontier north as a tour guide and decided to start his frontier fishing tourism venture in partnership with Traditional Owners.

The mutually beneficial relationship provides income for the local community, which includes a school, local shop, and health care centre. Bob enjoys doing his bit, ferrying people here and there around the island and taking the kids on fishing trips.

But the goodness becomes tainted by requests for alcohol at seemingly any cost. Bob’s Partner is hit up by community members at any price while selling fresh buffalo, wild geese, and fish from hunting expeditions. Somebody offered $700 for a bottle of Bundy rum. On refusal, the price went to $800! The Lizard King often longs for a drink, but even he considers a bridge too far!

Dry communities are nothing new in this part of the world, but a government decision earlier this year to give each community the right to determine whether they wanted to remain dry or to have access to alcohol is challenging their commonality.

There are plans to build a pub in the Partner’s community of 1500 serviced by a school, small store, and healthcare centre where unemployment is rife. And residents of the nearest community just across the water were shocked as they voted against introducing alcohol. Most younger people try to get to the island and traverse the crocodile-infested waters.

The effects of alcohol on vulnerable communities are well-known, and the situation here quickly falls into this category.

So, as I return to my privileged existence and read about the imperative of a Voice in Parliament, I reflect on what is currently happening. I wonder how the do-gooders in Canberra are seeing things first-hand, talking to the care providers, and seeing the issues that are now afoot. What we are doing is not working, and we are about to supersize the problems.

 

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