Windmill maintenance is an ongoing job on a sheep station, and more so during dry times. As a child I had countless trips in an old Dodge truck to “check on the windmill and the water trough up at the lake”.  Although it was often fearfully hot, I loved these trips. I rarely got to see the ephemeral Lake Eliza full of water, it was more often dry. I recall times when the truck was driven over part of the dusty lake bed, and what was thought to be the remains of an aboriginal dugout canoe were pointed out to us. In both drought, and after welcome rain, my siblings and I spent many happy hours exploring the rocky ridges that ran beside the lake and the windmill. There on the rocks, evidence of an earlier aboriginal presence on ‘Werona’ was abundant and very clear. I could place my hands upon any of the traditional grinding hollows and feel it.

I remember asking two questions: “Why did they leave?”, and “Where did they go?” My father Tom, answered me as best he could, and the story that he told was a sad one. He explained that as the settlers came to the area, the original owners were forced to move on. He told me that the people who had made the grooves on the rocks had left the area before my great-grandfather selected the property in 1924. I loved the lake area, and once I knew that the traditional owners had been forced out of it the experiences of these visits deeply affected me. I felt very lucky to be able to live and play on this land that my great-grandfather had selected, and to be able to call it my home. However my joy was mixed with sadness when I thought of the original owners who had been forced to leave the place.

As I have researched my family history I have sought out the stories of the traditional owners of the land that my ancestors settled on. The records I have found begin in 1803, and the locations of settlement extend through Tasmania and the Eastern States.