If the floods shocked the community at large, they were devastating for those whose property was destroyed or damaged. Some Bangalow residents had more than 30cm of water come through their houses, damaging flooring, appliances and possessions, while others experienced flooding in under-

house storage rooms and workshops, with thousands of dollars’ worth of damage to tools and equipment.

As always, 2479 residents stepped up to help in the aftermath, putting in hours of work to clean, dry and help dispose of damaged goods. Friends, family and community members turned up with gloves, squeegees, fans and dehumidifiers, gurneys and wet/dry vacuum cleaners, along with much-needed sustenance in the form of tea, coffee, biscuits, brownies, sandwiches and pizza to fuel the workers.

The role of the Bangalow Resilience Network

During the Friday 13th flash flooding the Bangalow Resilience Network (BRN) worked alongside the community, using our training and equipment to help clean-up efforts on the ground and calling in support via social media, in particular the Bangalow Community and Beyond Facebook page.

With many of our members trained as Community Carers and Responders (CCRs), we were able to put our skills in emergency communications, first aid, psychological first aid and disaster resilience planning to use as we supported the emergency response. We were also able to draw on the wider regional network of trained CCRs through Plan C’s CCR WhatsApp group and Facebook page. Requests to this network were answered quickly and helped support the clean-up efforts with both hands-on and remote contributions.

“A dramatic and fast-moving weather event like this,” says the BRN’s Vice-President Jo Palser, “may not need a physical hub to facilitate coordination of helpers, like we had in 2022, but what we can do is to get the word out so that people affected by the disaster get the help they need as soon as possible.” The advantage of this approach is that it helps link up affected families with the exact equipment, or helpers with particular skills, that they need. Because every disaster is different, and people will quite often be affected in different ways in the same disaster, it can be really helpful to have a trusted source to spread the word.

“The BRN is connected to Council’s recovery team and the shire-wide network of resilience volunteers. This team activates in declared natural emergencies and other widespread severe events. The system relies on having local volunteers who are on the ground to gather information and others with mobile or internet connectivity to enable them to publish updates on Facebook where possible.”

The BRN wants to extend our network of volunteers to build up strong local communications across 2479 neighbourhoods, so we are well placed for any new events.

One silver lining of the event is increased community awareness about the risks of flooding in Bangalow, which many new arrivals have understandably assumed to be less at risk than other towns in the region. But as long-time locals know, parts of Bangalow such as Deacon St and the sports fields have always flooded. With climate change making rainfall events more intense and less predictable, it is likely that going forward we will experience flooding in places that have not flooded before. Indeed, the Friday 13th flooding took place just a week after the Byron Shire Council released a flood study on the town that warned of the risks to the town of both riverine and overland flooding. The fact that floodwaters could rise as quickly as they did after only several hours of intense rain, and in a much less dramatic ‘wet season’ than we’ve had in previous years, points to the unpredictability of the situation we are now facing.

We at the BRN extend our sympathy and best wishes to all those affected by the flooding, and our gratitude to those who took part in the community response. We hope that more community members will come and join us before the next disaster, or even make contact by sending us an email or following our Facebook page.

Who are the Bangalow Resilience Network?

We are a group of 11 financial members who live in the 2479 postcode, with a wider network of around 30 people on our mailing list.

Our goal is to empower Bangalow’s response to natural emergencies by being organised, sharing knowledge, creating strong connections and taking collaborative action.

In disasters, we aim to connect with people on the ground and keep the wider community informed through our Facebook page, reaching out to our wider networks (like the CCR network, the Byron Shire Community Hubs network and the Byron Shire Community Resilience Network) and our contacts at combat agencies such as the SES, RFS, Fire and Rescue NSW and the Byron Shire Council.

We draw on our relationships with local groups such as the CWA, Men’s Shed, Showground Committee, the Opp Shop and the Lions Club to help organise the volunteer disaster response and recovery, and have, over the past two and a half years, been slowly building an inventory of equipment including a generator, a Starlink unit with battery charger, plus 30 CB radios and three base stations.

However, our capacity to show up, gather information and communicate, and to liaise with our contacts is limited by our numbers, so please consider joining!

For more information or to be added to our emergency WhatsApp group (activated only in times of disaster), please send us an email at bangalowresiliencenetwork@gmail.com

Claire McLisky

Bangalow Resilience Network

It is only natural that someone devoted to supporting the well-being of bees should prove as buzzy and life-affirming as the sight of the industrious insects going about their business in our garden or bushland.

But the warmth and enthusiasm that apiarist and floral alchemist Laodekia brings to the task verges on the preternatural – and indeed, her approach to the crucial undertaking involves a substantial sprinkle of cosmic vision.

Laodekia not only shepherds her own network of hives at Nashua, but she is the visionary behind a project to turn spare ground at the rear of the Coorabell Hall into a wild bee sanctuary – a food garden for them and a meeting and “grounding” place for bee-loving humans.

Her guiding angels in the enterprise are the bees themselves, Laodekia says, as the selection of Coorabell Hall as a location for a pollinator haven demonstrated.

“Coorabell is such a beautiful and significant site,” she says, “looking out over both the hinterland and the ocean.” Her initial intention was to build a garden full of edible medicinal flowers there, “like a living apothecary”, where people could come and pick healing plants for themselves. Then came the idea to bring in bees – natives, and the European variety as well.

But it turned out the bees had got there before her. The same day she received the OK from the hall’s managers to create a garden at the rear, Laodekia learned that a thriving wild hive already existed there.

It seemed magical to her and her fellow apiarists. “The bees welcomed us here, and they kind of confirmed that this is what’s meant to happen,” she says. “It tells you that the place is already perfect, right?”

An opening ceremony for the sanctuary was held a year ago followed by a number of gatherings “where we got to meet the bees, and be around them and their sound, which is super healing”.

There are regular get-togethers at the equinox and solstice dates where, as well as communing with the bees, group members offer something to the community, such as a sound healing or a floral alchemy session.

Laodekia attends the garden at least twice a week, and others pop in to water and mulch. Twenty new flowering seedlings were planted as this article was being prepared, just in

time for the rain mid-month. It has evolved into something of a sanctuary for locals as well. Anyone can come and bring offerings to the bees and many often just sit to enjoy a connection with nature.

“We all need sanctuaries,” says Laodekia, who insists that what the bees provide humanity far exceeds what we do for them.

There are other sanctuaries near Bangalow, including one behind Newrybar Community Hall which the Colony Bees group has serviced since 2022, where a strong population of sugarbag bees (Tetragonula carbonaria) are thriving in a log hive. The area supports many other swarms and wild hives.

Laodekia has her own apiary at her home in Nashua. Its name, Pleiapia, is a blend of the words Pleiades and Apis, because her seven hives are laid out like the Pleiades constellation, the ‘Seven Sisters’ that traditional farming communities consult to plan their planting season.

The hives are home to European bees, but the property, lush with medicinal plants, a hundred bush tucker trees and set amid a rainforest, is like “a big sanctuary planted all around us,” Laodekia says, and the flowers are usually alive with the sugarbag species. “We have blue lotuses in the pond, and the Europeans and the natives are all there together, pollinating, rolling in the flowers.

They all get along, he said. No drama.”

The plants in the garden at Coorabell Hall are all pollinator friendly, and many are also natural insect repellents. There’s Melissa (lemon balm), which she says the bees love: “It’s a plant of joy.” There are also sunflowers, salvia, sage, holy basil (Tulsi), rosemary, hyssop, some calendula, borage, echinacea. Blue and purple colours as much as possible.

Most of the seedlings planted here come from the Byron Bay Herb Nursery. “We work together really well. They love what we do and we love what they do,” Laodekia says.

The goal now is to create sanctuaries all over the Shire – a pollinator corridor with multiple different sites, nourishing biodiversity – and resilience.

Other halls have said yes to the establishment of a pollinator sanctuary, but for now Laodekia is keen to slow down. “The more I do, the less I can actually be present,” she says. And for someone who sees beekeeping as akin to parenting, just being present is the most important thing. “That relates to the health of the hives as well, and the garden. The most beautiful garden is the one where the grandma is there all day.

“I just want to anchor my energy here first, make this the environment that I wanted it to be, and extend from there. It’s also important getting more people involved. Like, we can do it, but everyone needs to be part of it. It’s not a one-person thing, it’s not just me. This is a community thing.”

The tiny stingless sugarbag bees endemic to the north east of Australia are among the most community-minded of all bees, with a highly developed social structure compared with other species.

The loose coalition of sanctuary supporters in the region aim at a similar cohesion and cooperative spirit. Their project has taken on a life of its own, Laodekia says, with members joining forces to grow more pollinator sanctuaries within – and for – our community.

As part of the natural cycle of things, the Coorabell bees have migrated from their tree trunk home behind the hall, so the plan now is to bring in a variety of new hives, in the hope that the bees will settle in. If all goes well, you will see – and hear – both native and European bees at the Coorabell Sanctuary by the end of swarming season.

The Flower Show is on at Coorabell Hall on March 14 and 15; Laodekia will be offering visitors ‘a little floral alchemy session’, outlining the healing power of plants.

There’s more than one way to skin a cat, they say. In the past few months, Bangalow Heritage House Museum has started receiving requests from teachers for their students to explore the museum and neighbouring Piccabeen Park. What’s the story?

The Living School in Lismore wanted their teenagers to visit the museum “as part of a unit on civilisation”. A busload of 18 students – 14- and 15-year-old young learners – visited in August, keen to see how life was lived from the 1930s to 1950s. Of particular interest to them was the old classroom set-up with its ‘quaint’ wooden school desk, plus the textbooks of that era. The teenagers were also interested to find out how to get involved in their local community, and a visit to the CWA followed.

For Emmanuel Anglican College, Ballina, the incentive to bring along 45 seven- and eight-year-old kids (plus a few teachers and parents) is a program called Mini Coastal College. It forms part of an Integrated Studies course that includes science, history, geography, mathematics, English and visual arts.

Roxanne Kent, the leader of Foundational Learning at Emmanuel Anglican College, explained their interest. “Inspired by the Reggio Emilia educational approach and the Forest Schools of Scandinavia, the aim of our Mini Coastal College program is to introduce students to new, engaging, challenging and fun opportunities to learn, play and grow.

The program is delivered by highly skilled educators whose purpose is to equip and support students to investigate, explore, discover, apply, practise and master new concepts, skills and understandings, whilst also meeting the syllabus requirements in a natural outdoor environment.”

The “natural outdoor environment” Roxanne selected was Piccabeen Park and the Bangalow Museum. Though their school is located in Ballina, teacher Alyssa Marshall explained: “Many of our students also live in and around the Bangalow area, so it is part of their community. The motive was to deepen the students’ understanding of the town’s history, culture and environment while building a stronger connection to their local community. The exploration also encouraged curiosity, respect for the environment and a sense of responsibility in caring for the area, helping students appreciate both the past and the importance of protecting Bangalow’s future.”

But what did the kids themselves think about the experience? Leo said, “I love Coastal College because we get to go out into nature and experience lots of things.” For Max, it was “because you get to be out of school and in the sunshine.” For Rachael, “The thing I love most about Coastal College is that we got to learn about the park’s heritage and explore nature.” From the teachers’ perspective, “It was a valuable learning experience for all students. Outdoor learning allows children to explore, discover, and learn in hands-on ways,” added Mel McClelland.

Though the Emmanuel College students who visited were from Year 2 in a Coastal College program that runs over eight Thursdays during Term 3, their Year 3 students go to Seven Mile Beach and Lake Ainsworth in Ballina, while Year 4 students visit Ballina’s Lighthouse Beach. The program will happen again every year.

And what was the experience like for the Bangalow Historical Society? “When the students visited Heritage House, they discovered a wealth of new things which piqued their curiosity – so important for learning,” commented Historical Society Secretary and former teacher, Heather West. “Coming here also exposed them to a diversity of ideas and information about different people, places and time periods, all contributing to broadening their horizons of knowledge. Handling Aboriginal artefacts and understanding their use helped contribute to their appreciation and respect of our Indigenous culture.

“There’s no doubt about it, their visit was a win all round. Our volunteers loved it, the teachers enjoyed observing their students being engaged and communicating with others, and the kids left with a head full of new knowledge and an understanding about our collective past. There are huge benefits for kids of all ages getting out of the classroom and into an informal learning environment where they’re invited to explore and understand new concepts. The museum displays helped develop critical thinking skills and gave the kids an understanding of the past and how it compares with the present.”

To enquire about a school learning experience, call 02 6687 2183

Every Saturday morning, rain gods permitting, a flock of khaki-shirted volunteers can be spotted flitting about in the bush around Bangalow, digging, watering, planting seedlings. They appear an extraordinarily vigorous crew – especially given that they quite evidently belong to a more mature demographic.

Among them, but standing out, are two members of an increasingly rare species – the younger volunteer. Oscar McMahon and Ana Assis, both 23, with straight backs and bounteous hair showing no thread of silver, have been volunteers with Bangalow Land and Rivercare for about 20 months. Most Saturdays they turn up and help renovate and restore one of the handful of remnant native forest sites around the town – beside the sports fields, along the banks of Paddy’s Creek at the bottom of Raftons Road, Little Maori Creek to the west of the town, or on the riverside walk from Piccabeen Park to Byron Creek bridge. Bushland near the Men’s Shed and at Sansom Street Reserve also benefits from the group’s loving touches.

Demographically, Oscar and Ana are outliers – and not just in Landcare. People of their age, or indeed anyone under 50, have stopped volunteering, and many organisations that need them in order to thrive have almost given up trying to recruit new members.

The Men’s Shed is maintained entirely by volunteers but is struggling to enrol young men, a problem President David Noakes feels might be because of the belief that such sheds are for oldies only.

Ruth Kirby, Bangalow CWA President, says “we are always looking for ways to entice younger women to join”, and invites anyone with ideas about how CWA could attract a younger cohort to pop in and share them.

Landcare’s recruitment efforts over the years have rarely been successful, says Robert Lotty, a stalwart of the group. He attributes the lack of interest to many young people’s obsession with their screens. As a nation, he says, “we have become more likely to stay inside rather than enjoying being in the outdoors”.

Ana and Oscar are the exception, and Bangalow Landcare President Noelene Plummer says the group is delighted to have them on board. “They bring enthusiasm and knowledge, which help to motivate us older members to keep going.” The couple have created an Instagram account aimed at reaching young followers.

Noelene co-founded the Bangalow group in 1998 and remains as enthusiastic as ever, motivated by the results achieved over the years. “We now have riparian rainforest trees where once there were eroded creek banks full of aquatic weeds. We get to see the wildlife return, the plantings have become a refuge and the banks of the creek have habitat that supports platypus as well as turtles, lizards and fish.

“When I look at the established rainforest along Byron Creek at the sports fields and the creek walk at Piccabeen Park, I realise what a difference we have made to the greening of Bangalow. These areas were once cattle paddocks with only one or two remnant trees.”

The sports field planting now constitutes a significant wildlife corridor connecting to a parcel of remnant rainforest, she says. And the group can take credit for establishing a walking track around the fields that led to today’s popular walking circuit.

“The environmental work is very rewarding,” Noelene says, “but we also enjoy socialising and sharing a lot of laughs.”

Conservation is a big inducement for Oscar and Ana but, perhaps surprisingly given the age gap, so is the social aspect – meeting like-minded people, networking, learning.

For Oscar, coming back from Melbourne, joining Landcare marked a real return to his roots: he grew up here, near his grandmother, attending Bangalow Public School and enjoying a free-range childhood, exploring the riverbanks and bush, unaware that much of it was the product of Landcare’s planting.

“I spent a lot of time down along Paddy’s Creek with a couple of my friends, building stick huts and booby traps and fishing. As a kid, that just seemed like a massive forest. I didn’t know the story,” he says.

Next came Byron High, then Melbourne University, where he and Ana met on a COVID-induced Zoom lecture on Indigenous Knowledge. As a kid he had dreamed of being “a David Attenborough type of naturalist”, and he completed a BSc, with a botany major.

Back in Melbourne following a trip to South America, the couple realised they needed to “get, like, a proper job now” and decided to give it a crack back at “home”. Both environmental scientists, they arrived with no job certainty but were soon snapped up – Oscar by Ballina Shire Council, Ana by Ecoteam in Lismore.

Ana says she didn’t know anyone here before coming north, and she wanted to meet new people in the community, and get some experience with the subtropical flora: “It’s so different to that in Victoria,” she says.

The Landcare group was “just stoked” when they joined, showering them with books, tools and protective clothing. “We instantly felt part of it,” says Ana.

“The Landcarers are just wonderful,” says Oscar. “Everybody’s there because they want to be there. And you can see the effect of what they’ve done. Like, along the All Souls planting. As a kid I remember the trees falling in the water, the bank eroding. Landcare has transformed that little area. The water runs really clear there, and there are bandicoots and emerald doves.”

Meanwhile, Lynn Smith, a member of the team that maintains Piccabeen Park, is struggling to attract new people to take on the work. “We have just four active members, all in their 70s and 80s, and we ain’t gettin’ any younger. We all love the Park and enjoy our working bee days. We are friends and are there for one another when times are tough. We have lots of laughs together. The work keeps us fit and active.” But they’re fresh out of ideas for attracting volunteers.

It’s possibly a global challenge, and a complex one, fuelled, among other things, by rising economic pressures making people time-poor. But in an age of artificial everything, individualism and disconnection, contributing some time to the community and to the environment is possibly one of the healthiest things anyone can do. As Oscar says: “It’s meditative, it’s getting your hands in the dirt, which has got to be good for your microbiome.” And we could all do with a bit more of that.

Feature image by Olivia Katz

The Sanctuary has served as the work placement destination for TAFE for a number of years, allowing students to learn hands-on skills in caring for animals and wildlife. Students balance two days of theory with two days of practical training at the Sanctuary, allowing for invaluable insights and real-world experience. Upon completing her certification, Tegan’s dedication led her to volunteer at the Sanctuary, a decision that paved the way for her current role.

Tegan’s days are filled with a variety of responsibilities, beginning by ensuring all animals are accounted for and enclosures are clean—a “glorified pooper-scooper,” she laughs—and replenished with fresh water. Food is prepared for over 100 animals with the assistance of volunteers. On-site composting means the gardens are some of the most well-fertilised in the Northern Rivers. Tegan is training to conduct reptile talks for visitors—a role she initially found daunting but enjoys more and more: “I love speaking to people. I love teaching people about our native wildlife as well.”

Tegan’s passion for reptiles is evident, with a particular fondness for the native Woma Python. Unlike other pythons, Womas lack heat-sensing pits and have adapted to hunt cold-blooded prey, such as lizards and other snakes. Remarkably, they are also immune to the venom of some of Australia’s most deadly snakes, including browns, red-bellies, and inland taipans, whether through bites or ingestion.

Beyond her Keeper duties, Tegan is also a Support Worker with the Sanctuary’s NDIS Meaningful Futures Program, providing participants with one-on-one programs allowing for interactions with wildlife and helping out behind the scenes, as well as opportunities to socialise in a supportive, engaging environment.

Tegan’s ultimate aspiration is to work with crocodiles at some point in the future. “The fact they’ve been here for over two million years amazes me. I think they’re absolutely beautiful,” she says. She hopes to spend time in northern Australia to study and train with these ancient reptiles, aiming to deepen her understanding and contribute to their conservation. In the meantime, she gets her crocodile fix visiting Boss Hog, Currumbin’s beloved five-metre-long salty.

She encourages anyone with a love of wildlife and conservation to get involved in the Sanctuary’s volunteer program.

byronbaywildlifesanctuary.com.au

Feature image Tegan and a Woma python  Photo Georgia Fox

“While we are happy to see the back of Cyclone Alfred, his effects are still being felt by our community and farmers. Our hearts go out to those hit hard, including some of our farmers who have had crops wiped out and valuable topsoil washed away.

“Stock supplies might be down on some stalls (and overflowing on others), or some produce might look a little bruised and battered under the conditions. However, our stalls will never be empty like the supermarkets and will be replenished with locally grown and made food every week. Now more than ever is the time to get behind our farmers and support those who do have produce to sell.

“Our food and drink stalls have also taken a loss with markets being cancelled. So, if you don’t ordinarily stop for breakfast at the market, please take the time to grab a bite to eat and drink.

“We are incredibly grateful for your support throughout the year, but particularly in times like this. And it’s what sets our farmers’ markets and community apart—as well as providing a reliable food source, the markets are also a hub for our community (both stallholders and patrons) to come together, to regroup and to be thankful for what we do have.”

Julia Bolam and Taylor Jamieson have an organic farm outside Kyogle called Roseberry Growers. Taylor grows vegetables, and Julia sells her flowers at the Bangalow Farmers Markets.

“Alfred was pretty bad for our little organic farm,” Julia said. “My husband and I grow vegetables and flowers. We grow next to a creek which is in the Upper Richmond catchment and the Thursday/Friday rain blanketed the catchment for our creek. It isn’t a big creek, and it was just too much for it to handle.

“The creek broke the banks and caused a flash flood/flash river to travel through about 60% of our market garden – but it was the 60% that we had most of our crops in. The water was super powerful. It crushed two caterpillar tunnels. It also took a lot of topsoil and all the crops that were in that area.

“The topsoil loss is the worst part, as we had been working on the soil for years and it had started growing some really amazing vegetables. “This means we basically have to start again crop wise, so we will likely miss five to seven weeks’ worth of farmers markets, but then we will be back, initially with fast growing crops only. It is a real bummer, but we are just looking forward to getting back on track now.”

From farmers to those restoring our Big Scrub rainforest, Mark Dunphy, President of the Big Scrub Rainforest Conservancy, added: “After Cyclone Alfred, we noticed that individual trees are far more likely to have fallen, while not much damage was observed to trees within a forest structure. A high number of the trees that went down were eucalypts or exotics such as jacarandas and poincianas.

It highlights the value of promoting appropriate riparian and habitat restoration work that restores the original ecological communities of the site – for the Big Scrub footprint, planting rainforest species to areas that were previously rainforest will ensure more resilience to the weather extremes these plant communities have evolved to withstand.”

Along Byron Creek, Noelene Plummer of Bangalow Land and Rivercare observed: “We have had a look at most of our plantings and they appear to have escaped any major losses. There have been trees and branches down and some sites, like the All Souls’ creek walk, are muddy under foot.”

But the team was happy to take part in a planting session at Twin Creeks community in Fowlers Lane in the weeks following.

This reality is at the heart of an upcoming community conversation, Climate Change and Our Region’s Future, hosted this month by the Bangalow Country Women’s Association (CWA). Here, Dr Joëlle Gergis, a leading climate scientist and lead author for the Intergovernmental Panel on Climate Change (IPCC), will share her insights on the global and local impacts of climate change—and offer solutions for building resilience in our communities.

Dr Gergis has spent 30 years studying climate science, but it was her personal experience in the Northern Rivers that truly brought the issue home. “Watching rainforests burn in the Nightcap and Lamington National Parks during the Black Summer fires of 2019–2020 was the turning point for me,” she recalls. “I was working on the UN climate report at the time and knew that what we were witnessing in Australia was a clear sign of how quickly our climate can change. Things really hit home when I had family displaced by the devastating floods in 2022. Driving through town after the floods broke my heart. Since then, I’ve been doing everything I can to warn the public.”

Her deep connection to the region makes her message even more powerful. The Northern Rivers, with its delicate ecosystems, is already feeling the effects of more frequent and intense weather events—floods, fires, and storms. These are not isolated incidents; they are part of a larger, global pattern. As Dr Gergis points out, the situation is becoming increasingly urgent.

The IPCC reports, to which Dr Gergis has contributed as a lead author, are the world’s most authoritative sources on climate change. These reports synthesise decades of research from thousands of scientists globally and provide the data used by governments to shape policy and international climate treaties.

As a lead author, Dr Gergis plays a key role in distilling this complex scientific data into accessible insights. This careful, collaborative process ensures that the findings are both accurate and actionable. As she says: “The most important thing you can do is vote for political leaders that are genuinely committed to addressing climate change. That means stopping fossil fuel production and the subsidies that are blocking the clean energy transition. We also need policies to protect our native forests, which store carbon and protect biodiversity.”

These actions, both large and small, can help shift the course of the climate crisis – and Dr Gergis’ work is a reminder of just how critical it is to act now.

Despite the overwhelming scale of the climate crisis, Dr Gergis remains hopeful about local action. She believes we each have a role to play, whether through voting for climateconscious leaders, supporting renewable energy initiatives, or making sustainable choices in our own lives. “The next best thing to do is try and install solar power on your home or business. Not only does it save you money, but you become a part of the renewable energy revolution that’s sweeping the world. I’m amazed how good it made me feel!”

Dr Gergis’ message is clear: even small steps can contribute to a broader shift. The more we embrace renewable energy and advocate for systemic change, the more we’ll build momentum toward a sustainable future.

As we mark the five-year anniversary of the Black Summer bushfires, the scars from those fires remain. The fires were a grim reminder of the escalating risks posed by a changing climate. The impacts of climate change, though, are not confined to Australia. As Dr Gergis points out, the entire globe is experiencing similar challenges.

As this article goes to print, Dr Gergis is also working on a piece for The Saturday Paper about the ongoing wildfires in Los Angeles—a devastating example of the far-reaching consequences of climate change.

In times of crisis, local communities often provide the first line of support. When the 2022 floods ravaged nearby towns, Bangalow, though not as severely impacted, mobilised in remarkable ways. Our town’s response was a powerful reminder that resilience is not just about rebuilding homes and infrastructure—it’s about strengthening the social fabric that holds us together.

This is where organisations like the Bangalow CWA play a vital role. While the CWA is known for its afternoon teas and community events, its real strength lies in its ability to unite people during times of need. Bangalow Branch President, Ruth Kirby, reflects on how the CWA adapted after the 2022 floods.

“The floods were a real wake-up call for us in the CWA,” she says. “Yes, we could donate money, make meals, and offer cuppas and kindness—but we sort of felt at a loss, that we were in a silo. Since then, we’ve been making a real effort to link up with community groups like the Men’s Shed and Lions, to combine our efforts. We’re now part of a grassroots resilience movement across the Northern Rivers.”

For Ruth, the CWA’s efforts are about more than immediate relief—they’re about fostering long-term resilience and compassion. The group’s focus on building a compassionate, connected community ensures that we are better equipped to face future challenges together.

“The real strength of groups like ours is the ability to unite people in times of need. Beyond the famous scones and afternoon teas, it’s about building a compassionate, resilient community that can face difficult times together and come out stronger.”

Dr Gergis is hopeful about what we can accomplish if we continue to push for change. “What gives me hope is that there’s a new generation of leadership emerging, from all sides of politics, that really wants to make a difference on this issue,” she says. “We’re building a critical mass that will push us toward an environmentally sustainable society. As we saw during the floods, local communities have a crucial role to play in disaster recovery and resilience building. There will be dark days ahead, but we’re always stronger when we face challenges together.”

Zoë Tuckwell

In Conversation with Joëlle Gergis – Climate Change and Our Region’s Future
When Wednesday 12 February, 5–6.30pm Where Heritage House, Bangalow Hosted by Bangalow CWA
Tickets Available via Humanitix https://events.humanitix.com/climate-change-and-our-regions-future-with-joelle-gergis-hosted-by-bangalow-cwa

Seats are free but limited, so be sure to grab yours soon.

When we bought the property, Harry Fowler had been dead six years.

It seems he wasn’t any great shakes as a farmer, devoting so much of his time, enthusiasm and energy into countless worthy Bangalow community activities. Though he hadn’t kept the land looking like a workable farm, his niece and nephew, who inherited the property, spent a few years cleaning it up to make it presentable to market.

As a cattle grazing property – which is how it was marketed – it was too small for a single family to make a living from. But for our purposes, it was perfect.

It was generations since it had been a workable dairy. The land, though recently spritzed up – paddocks all slashed of weeds and the countless tonnes of rocks all gathered up and shovelled neatly out of the way and into the gulleys – looked as good as it could. But with streaks of erosion slicing through bare hillsides, to us, it seemed lifeless and unloved: it felt bleak.

Apart from the original Fowler family farmhouse, 11 additional houses have been built over the years. Our 12 houses stand on around two acres of land per lot – each private individual bubble hanging off the internal road – and together, we care and manage the other 90 communally-owned rural acres.

Inspired by the countless consultants’ reports we had commissioned, covering every possible aspect of life on a potential community, the minute we could, we set to, to transform the land. As well as creating all the infrastructure needed before houses could be built – 1.7km of internal paved road, underground power, fencing, and heaps more – we quickly leapt in, keen to bring our dry paddocks back to life.

Setting the scene for us was an ‘Environmental Enhancement and Management Plan’ (EEMP) that we had prepared by Firewheel Rainforest Services early on. It outlined how we could potentially transform the worn-out land through environmental repair, indicating where and what we could plant: species lists tailored to select the ideal plant for every nook and cranny, whether up on the high, windswept ‘Jindibah Heights’, where nine of our houses were built, or along the frost-prone creek flats.

Our first aim was to create a fertile, thriving environment into which we could build our houses. We created privacy for each one through appropriate native plantings; these also reduced the impact of new houses on neighbouring properties. We wanted to restore rainforest along the Sleepy Creek riparian corridor, and (dare I say) “beef up” the two acres of Big Scrub we found on the far side of the causeway over the creek. We also wanted to protect and enhance the habitat of any endangered or vulnerable threatened species on site.

With the property sectioned off – on maps, at first – into zones labelled ‘Rural Living’, ‘Habitat/Regeneration’ and ‘Agricultural’ – we got planting.

In the early days, there was a rough bush track round the property, requiring four-wheel drive. As soon as construction started on the internal road, we utilised the scraped-off topsoil to plant visual screenings along the roadside, giving each potential house a thick privacy screen. These trees are now 20 to 30m high. An agricultural buffer zone was planted along our eastern border, to prevent any spray drift coming onto our land from the neighbouring macadamia plantation to our east.

Over a decade or so, each year we would aim to plant another 1,000 rainforest trees, appropriate for the site – per our EEMP. Some years, we’d attempt to plant more, and organised working bees where as many people as possible living on the land, would join with our contractor to plant that year’s quota. Today it is immediately apparent how much life all our plantings – nearly 12,000 native trees – have restored to the land. And of course we found out that controlling environmental weeds is both imperative and an ongoing, costly challenge.

A big point of difference from any other communities being established at the time, was our wish to potentially farm parts of the land, or take up any emerging agricultural possibilities. Most of the other communities at the time focussed exclusively on rainforest regeneration. We wanted to retain the option to graze cattle or whatever horticultural pursuits might work well here: we didn’t want to preclude any possibility.

On each of our house lots, owners have landscaped and planted what suited them. Some have created flat areas for kids to play on, with room for veggie plots, swings and trampolines. For others, a stunning seaview from the terraced pool, with a few strategic easily-managed feature plants, has been what’s important. To me, it’s been creating a densely planted garden which supplies food: an orchard, bush tucker, flowers, fruit.

While this property could easily have ended up as an unprofitable farm running beef cattle (as often happens when city people relocate to the country and don’t know what to do with the land), we’ve found a way that 12 households can each care for their own lot, so each garden is loved and flourishing. The trees we’ve planted on the remaining common land have brought the rest of the land back to life, attracting lush flora and abundant fauna in the wildlife sanctuary it’s become, while providing shade for the agisted cattle and horses. The creek, now shaded by mature trees, attracts us to sit, or swim, or simply enjoy nature’s bounty.

At night, I hear possums, bandicoots or echidnas, shuffling about in the jungle outside my bedroom window. Driving home in the dusk, wallabies can be seen leaping across the fields, and snakes and reptiles of all kinds, lurk throughout. On the other side of the house facing east, looking towards the sea, I watch goshawks and huge eagles, floating on the thermals. Bands of raucous yellowtailed black cockatoos, screech across the skyline on summer evenings. When I open my curtains in the morning, there’s usually a few kookaburras checking out their potential breakfast, perched high up on the stalk of the giant Mauritius Hemp.

At ground level, as I walk through the orchard to feed the chooks, past my native bee hives, blue-tongue lizards, or tiny skinks freeze for a moment, then slink on about their lives. When the chooks have left grain, the roundeared bush rats arrive for the left-overs. A series of snakes, all named Monty Python, regularly check out the rat situation from the roof of the nesting boxes in my chicken coop, conveniently taking care of excess numbers. Other snakes have found their safe and happy place in the 300 metres of rock wall, built along a section of our internal road. Everyone’s happy.

It’s been an interesting 30-year transformation.

*This is an extract from a book Christobel is writing on the conversion of the former dairy farm into an intentional Community Title property.

It’s funny to think what we eat, what we discard, what is a delicacy, what we consider edible or what is not. Of course, society dictates what we consider to be food – our families, the wider community, and hospitality businesses present us with meals from these ingredients that we develop a taste (or distaste) for. Some venture outside the narrow bounds of commercially produced farm foods and experiment with an exotic culinary ingredient from time to time. Then, you’ve got people like Peter Hardwick.

Peter has turned a passion for unearthing unlikely edibles into a career as a professional forager, supplying kitchens and collaborating with chefs with a bounty of intriguing ingredients. Returning from foraging trips scouring for rogue rhizomes and escapee greens, Peter and his partner Mee Hee, a psychotherapist and “brilliant home cook” who also enjoys a spot of foraging, get creative. The pair slice, dice, infuse, ferment, smoke, dry, and grind all manner of locally acquired forest and feral foods intended for the restaurant sector. Here, says Peter, is the most logical place for our palates to be introduced to new ways of eating ancestral ingredients.

“I particularly enjoy the feral fruits, like feral peaches and feral apples, the mushrooms,” says Mee Hee. The term “feral” denotes a domestic food plant that’s gone wild, the edible parts taking on unique characteristics that give an artisanal edge to their cultivated counterparts. “Firstly, I’m just inspired by the look of them, and then because I’m a massive foodie, I will think about the flavours, and what sort of foods are going to be really tasty, and there’ll be some kind of a creative twist in the moment of actually cooking.”

Part science, part imagination, Peter’s foraging work relies on sturdy knowledge of plant recognition, and phytochemistry is vital to understanding the uses of wild ingredients, their flavour profiles, and hence culinary uses. Of course, the ‘wild’ food movement – embracing bushfoods or native foods, weeds (introduced or endemic) or feral produce – is not new. Peter picked his first peck at age four, enjoying that childhood rite of passage of sucking the nectar from a honeysuckle bloom. In his teens, he realised that there was more at stake – motivated by the conservation movement, and in particular the preservation of rainforests for more than just timber.

“As a forager, you do see just how much native vegetation, as well as introduced vegetation, gets slashed back or sprayed. Maybe we could be more sensitive to the environment that we’re around?” he says.

Farmers and home gardeners have long waged war on nature, dominating the natural way of things and insisting on lawns and neat rows of perfect crops, grown out of season and rendered tasteless. What we call weeds, on the other hand, are robust and tenacious; they thrive in spite of our best efforts to quell them. We could all learn something from the persistence of these plants.

Eating foraged food is the epitome of eating seasonally because you’re going and picking stuff that’s wild and growing at that moment in time. Native crops further support soil quality, and Peter adds that many wild-harvested ingredients also contain medicinal qualities such as antioxidants and natural anti-inflammatory properties.

“Peter has a very sensitive palate and he’s an amazing flavourist,” says Mee Hee. “He also sparks ideas on what to cook and different flavour combinations, which I wouldn’t necessarily think of myself.”

One of these exotic tastes is a pine bark syrup that Peter makes from the bark of the feral pine trees that grow around Bangalow. The pine bark syrup called mugolio is smoked and then turned into a caramel, or the bark can also be lightly roasted and ground as an addition to pancakes. There’s also been a granola and an ice-cream. Local chef Matt Stone turned another syrup, this time made from bunya nut cones, into a show-stopping dessert. “It’s based on an Italian pine syrup idea, and Matt featured that with the chocolate and citrus.” Back in their home kitchen, Peter and Mee Hee have been experimenting with wild ice-creams, chutneys, and poached fruit, enthusing that the feral varieties have an intensity of flavour that is both familiar and somehow, more.

But bringing the nation’s food habits around to consuming unconventional edibles on a daily basis might take some time.

“I made a sort of pickled kimchi out of young, succulent Farmer’s Friend leaves, and we were serving it up at Harvest restaurant in Newrybar. Someone told me they jumped in a taxi in Lismore and the taxi driver was laughing, saying, ‘Oh, I’ve heard there’s a restaurant down the coast serving up Farmer’s Friend kimchi!’ and the driver thought it was hilarious. It’s funny how the word gets out when you start serving these things up and it creates a bit of amusement because it totally turns people’s heads around,” says Peter.

If you think about your own food journey, you’ll see that your tastes and preferences evolve over time. I didn’t even know what an avocado was when I was a kid, but my children devour them. Similarly, the idea of raw fish – raw anything – would have been considered reckless, deranged even. But today, we gladly accept sashimi, carpaccio, ceviche, tartare, tataki. Look how far we’ve come? Could fungus, bark, and weeds be next?

“What really looks interesting from a food security point of view is that some of these weedy food plants might be able to handle climate change extremes better than some of our conventional crops,” says Peter, adding that salt-tolerant plants like feral tomatoes and beachside succulents could become increasingly more popular as a food source. “Getting the wild ingredients into a form that people can relate to is a big part of it,” says Peter. “That’s the heart of cooking or cheffing with these ingredients. These feral and ancestral plants are important for preserving diversity, as well as our food security. They go hand in hand.”

Join the Sample Food Festival Wild Food Foraging Masterclass with Peter Hardwick for a unique one-hour foraging walk around Bangalow exploring the unusual foods that grow around us. Saturday 7 September, 11.30am samplefoodevents.com

   Booyong Nature Reserve

Up until just 250 years ago, our whole district was covered with dense rainforest and huge trees. To get a feel for what became known as the Big Scrub, take a short drive west of Bangalow to the Booyong Flora and Nature Reserve on Booyong Road on Widjabul-Wiabal country. There you will find remnants on both sides of the road of the original rainforest through which Bundjalung people walked for millennia. Take the path down to the Wilsons River and look at the trees and the tangle of vines. Stop and listen to the whip birds. Just 100 metres from the gate nearest the bridge over the river is the giant 30m tall water gum tree. This awesome tree is on the National Big Tree Register.

Songlines Map at Coorabell Hall

Take a 10-minute drive from Bangalow along Coolamon Scenic Drive to Coorabell Hall, perched on the edge of the escarpment with sweeping views of the coast. On the outside wall is a fabulous mural painted by Bundjalung man Uncle Lewis Walker. Using mainly Bundjalung place names, it offers an aerial view of the coastal plains from Minjungbal country north of the Brunswick River, across Arakwal country, and down to Ballina across Nyanbul country south of Broken Head.

Broken Head Nature Reserve

Broken Head is a significant place to Arakwal people. Not only does the headland reserve contain many mythical sacred sites, it was the home of Arakwal Harry Bray and his family, the ancestors of many Arakwal people today. It was a place full of food, medicines, and materials to make tools, string, and fishing nets. Walk down the track to the headland, look out at the rocks, and learn about the Three Sisters dreaming story.

Currenba (The Pass)

Currenba means ‘gully’ and describes the area at The Pass in Byron Bay. There is a beautiful shady walk behind the carpark with signs full of information about Arakwal history. Arakwal and other Bundjalung people camped beside the beach, eating pipis collected from the wet sand, other shellfish, and fish. There you will find a midden, reminding us that Bundjalung people have sat and enjoyed their seafood (and the view) at this spot for over 1500 years.

Dorrobbee Grass Reserve

High on a hill on Frasers Road, just five minutes from the Dunoon General Store, is one of the last remaining managed native grass ‘islands’ in the Big Scrub. It sits right in the middle of Widjabul-Wiabal country and offers huge 360-degree views. It was a camping ground for Widjabul-Wiabal, a strategic place from which to see distant fires and approaching visitors. You can see the original Kangaroo Grass, which is still managed with a combination of traditional ‘fire stick burning’ and other land management practices.

Explore Byron Bay Tours

Bundjalung woman Delta Kay runs a Bush Tucker Tour right in town. Walk with Delta on a rainforest walk that ends in Piccabeen Park with a beautiful bush tucker spread. For information and bookings, go to explorebyronbay.com

Local Libraries

If you like to read, local libraries have collections of books and historical material about Bundjalung culture and history. Libraries include the Byron Bay Library, Southern Cross University Library in Lismore, and Ballina Library. You may have to ask the librarians for access to some local history material.