Finke
Aputula Aboriginal Community

Aputula NT from the air

The township of Finke just north of the South Australian border in the Northern Territory was originally a railway town. The old Ghan railway crossed the Finke River just north of the township. Any major flood in the river washed out the rail bridge so the settlement developed primarily to repair the rail crossing.

In 1981 when the new railway was opened through Kulgera 150km to the West, the community was set up as a Uniting Church Mission for the local aborigines.

During my Outback travels I was able to get a job in Finke working for the Aputula Community. My responsibilities included managing the town workshop, the water supply and the electricity supply. The job ended up becoming a lot more comprehensive than that.

The Aboriginals or Anangu, as they called themselves, were wonderful people and my family soon became part of community life. The blonde headed toddling “Kid” was a great hit. Every one in town was her special friend.

In contrast to the people at Ti Tree, Aputula’s Anangu had interacted with Europeans since the Ghan railway reached the town in 1923. They had a strong Community Council and a good idea of what they expected for the future.

When I first reached town nothing worked properly. The other white couple there, were employed as Community Development Officer (CDO) and his wife was Community Development Employment Program (CDEP) coordinator. CDEP was a Government “work for the dole” scheme. They had no mechanical knowledge and my predecessor had left two years before so pretty well everything was broken down.

Robert, the young Community Chairman, urged me to start work straight away and not bother with any assessment program. This decision seemed to get me off on the wrong foot with the CDO, who had imagined he would have been the one to make the decision on my employment.

I had a couple of very willing offsiders so it wasn’t long before most of the utes, tractors, pumps and generators were working reasonably well.

Aboriginals have a marvellous sense of humour and are clever mimics so I was never really sure if I was being taken for a ride at any time.

One cold day Larry, one of the mechanics, asked me;

“Boss, its bloody cold. Can we light a fire at the back of the workshop?”

I imagined this would be a chance to see traditional fire lighting skills in action. But no. Larry came out with five litres of diesel and threw that on a heap of timber then lit it with his plastic cigarette lighter.

Another morning Larry breezed into work and said;

“Going to rain today, Boss!”

I looked at the clear skies and thought;

“He must have noticed the ants moving or he’s seen some other sign I’ve missed”, I thought.

“How do you know that, Larry?”

“Saw it on TV last night, Boss!”

Another time the CDO, who had a genuine interest in the wildlife in the area, spotted some of the first migrating Welcome Swallows in the workshop. He was walking through pointing them out to the mechanics when he suddenly disappeared from sight down the workshop pit.

Poor bloke emerged, covered in sump oil and assorted debris, as the two aboriginal mechanics ran for the door trying not to laugh out loud.

For weeks after that, I would occasionally catch one of the community’s kids pretending to fall into the pit, and then stagger off with an exaggerated limp.

We attended a funeral at the Finke Community almost every month during our two years there. They were always a sad and lengthy affair. The community had to first work out if the deceased should be buried at Aputula or somewhere else, then the funeral had to be arranged so all relatives could attend and the grave had to be dug by a relative not too close or too far removed from the deceased.

The services were held in the old aluminium clad church. The camp dogs attended too. The old church had quite a few wall panels missing either for relief from the heat or the result of vandalism. Often, part way through the service a dog fight would break out and people and dogs spilled out through the walls in panic.

The Aboriginals at Finke had very strong religious convictions and their funerals were solemn occasions, in spite of the dog fights.

The Cemetery was the cleanest area of the town and the rows of carefully painted railings were well maintained.

The Finke township is a dry community and no alcohol is allowed there. However the men would go to Alice Springs or Oodnadatta for a drinking session now and then. I lost a few of my good mates as a result of drinking related accidents, sickness, suicide or vehicle accidents.

After a funeral of a respected community member every one moved out of town to a “Sorry Camp” in the bush. These “Sorry Camps” sometimes lasted a couple of months for the closest relatives, and the town was almost deserted for weeks at a time.

I often had reason to go out bush to retrieve a broken down vehicle or for some other reason. At these times one of the aboriginals, either Robert or Larry, insisted on driving. I was a bit put out for a start until I happened to see Larry chasing kangaroos in his old Holden. His driving skill through the scrub, between the trees and across the flats would have made a rally driver envious.

They all loved their hunting and it was a constant battle to discourage them from using community vehicles for hunting. The truck, the community police vehicle and even the tractors were used at times. They all ended up back at the workshop for us to repair.

It was a great community to live in but I was worn out at the end of the two year contract.

Community Chairman, Robert, at Colsons Pinnacle NT

More on Anangu and their land

Common Anangu words and meanings