Lands of Red and Gold #14: Give Me Liberty Or Give Me Cash
History calls it Kangaroo Island. A small island, not even four and a half thousand square kilometres, but teeming with wildlife. Some claim it to be one of the last unspoilt refuges on earth. Kangaroos, koalas, wombats, goannas, echidnas, platypus and other Australian wildlife flourish here, without introduced predators. In truth, it is far from pristine. The native emu of this island has been hunted to extinction, and many of the indigenous animals were in fact introduced by European colonists.
Allohistory calls it simply the Island. A place not of unspoilt scenery, but the crowded home of the wealthiest people in Australasia. In 1618, on the eve of Dutch contact, the Island is home to fifty thousand people. Dependent on commerce both for their food and their wealth, they have turned their small island home into the nexus of the greatest trade routes in the continent.
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Like the much larger Tasmania, the Island once held a remnant population who were separated from the mainland by rising waves at the end of the last ice age. Unlike Tasmania, the Island’s native population vanished sometime in prehistory, abandoning their homes and fleeing to the mainland millennia ago. For a time, the Island was left to the kangaroos and wombats, while the mainlanders referred to it as the Land of the Dead [1].
The Island was resettled about 750 BC, during the Great Migrations. One group of refugees from the abandoned city of Murray Bridge moved down the Fleurieu Peninsula and sailed across to the Island. Early Gunnagalic peoples were not good shipbuilders, but the narrow strait between the Island and the mainland was easily crossed [2].
The settlers of the Island called themselves the Nangu. They spoke a Gunnagalic language, one which was quite linguistically conservative. With the relative isolation of their island, Nangu speakers were unaffected by many of the changes which spread across the mainland languages. They adopted writing from the mainland during imperial times, and their early written records reveal that their language has changed relatively little since that time. Later linguists would find the Nangu language invaluable in their efforts to reconstruct Proto-Gunnagalic.
Living on the Island, the Nangu were for many centuries an isolated, underpopulated backwater. They received some ideas from the mainland, but the spread was often slow. They learned the arts of bronze-working, although the metal was a rare trade good for centuries. They adopted the new mainland farming techniques of crop rotation, and raised domesticated emus to replace the native Island emus which had been hunted to extinction during the early days of settlement [3].
Still, in many ways, the history of the mainland passed by without affecting the Island. During the Imperial era, the Nangu were a subject people who vaguely acknowledged the imperial hegemony and occasionally paid tribute. Yet the First Speakers never sent any invading armies across the water. During the early tenth century, the Nangu simply stopped paying tribute to the Empire. No-one in distant Garrkimang seems to have cared. Certainly no army was sent in reconquest, even though this was the time when the Empire had its last burst of military expansion and conquered the Eyre Peninsula. After the collapse of the Empire, the Nangu continued on largely untouched. Warfare and political intrigue on the mainland was of little concern to the Islanders, since the bickering nations lacked the ability or interest to invade the Island.
Of course, the Nangu were never completely isolated. Dependent on fishing for much of their food, they developed good shipbuilding techniques by the standards of early Gunnagalic peoples. During the eleventh century, a few brave Islander captains started to sail directly to Tasmania, which they called Tjul Najima, the Island of Bronze. The voyage was risky, especially the return leg, where they sometimes had to wait for weeks or months for a change in the prevailing winds. Still, the rewards for successful captains were substantial. Bronze on Tjul Najima was cheap enough to trade for Islander dyes and spices, then return home to sell the metal for excellent profits. Previously the Nangu had received bronze only through a chain of mainland intermediaries; now they had much cheaper direct trade.
Islander ships expanded the bronze trade over the next few centuries. Some more venturesome captains slowly broadened their trade network over the next couple of centuries. Sporadic visits to the Eyre Peninsula were expanded into regular trading trips to Pankala [Port Lincoln], to trade bronze and gum cider for opals, salt, and agricultural produce. Other captains started to call at Jugara [Victor Harbor], a small town on the most convenient natural harbour next to the Murray Mouth. From here, they traded for goods which had been moved overland from ports on the Murray itself.
The early Islander trade network was relatively limited, since their ships could move only small volumes of goods, and that at considerable risk. Yet it was enough to bring many new things to the Island, including new technologies and knowledge in medicine, masonry, and many other fields.
Of these new ideas, perhaps the most significant was the adoption of a new religion. Pliri, the religion of the Sevenfold Path, had not yet had much success on the mainland. In Tjibarr its followers were mostly spurned; among the decaying feudalism of the Junditmara and their Empire of the Lake, its followers were treated as infidels.
On the Island, though, the disciples of the Good Man found a receptive audience. The first Pliri temple was founded at Crescent Bay [Kingscote] in 1204. From here, Pliri priests sought to convert all of the Islanders. They met with substantial success over the next few decades. By 1240, about half of the Islanders carried out the rituals of the Sevenfold Path. There were considerable religious tensions between Pliri converts and the older Nangu beliefs (which were derived from the early Gunnagalic religions).
At this time, the Island had no single monarch or established aristocratic class. Instead, the population were divided into twenty-four bloodlines, which were derived from the old kitjigal system. Bloodlines functioned much as extended clans, where the members were expected to defend each other in case of disputes. Belonging to a particular bloodline was not a matter of strict descent; men could seek adoption into a new bloodline if they wished. However, while birth did not always matter; loyalty did; early Islander history is rife with tales of feuds and vendettas between bloodlines which carried on for generations.
To bring order to the Island, the Nangu had established an institution of a yearly assembly by the elders (chiefs) of each of the bloodlines. This assembly met to decide on the law, resolve disputes between bloodlines, and dispense other judicial functions. In 1240, the assembled elders voted to convert the whole of the Island to the Pliri faith. More or less willingly, the remaining adherents of the old beliefs adopted the new rituals. More temples were built, and the Nangu became committed to their new faith. In time, they would seek to spread it beyond the Island.
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Australia’s isolation from the rest of the world ended in 1310, when the first Maori [4] exploration canoe landed in Raduru lands [Illawarra, NSW]. After this initial contact, the Maori started to make trading visits north and south. In time, after chasing after rumours of bronze, they reached Tjul Najima. Here they established what would become one of their major trade routes, exchanging their greenstone [jade], kauri amber, and textiles and cordage made from New Zealand flax for the local tin and gum cider.
With Nangu trading captains also regularly visiting Tjul Najima for bronze and gum cider, contact soon followed between Maori and Nangu. Unlike many other Australian peoples, the Islanders had a keen interest in better ships for their own needs, both trading and fishing. With the example of Maori ships, and with a few Maori who were persuaded to live on the Island and share their knowledge of shipbuilding and navigation techniques, the Nangu became the best seafarers in Australia.
History does not record the precise date of Maori-Nangu contact, but by 1380, Islander records describe the construction of twin-hulled boats. Inspired by Maori examples, these were dual-masted vessels whose twin hulls gave them great stability and speed. These boats also had lateen sails (woven from native flax) which were extremely manoeuvrable. Thanks to the Maori, the Nangu learned the art of tacking into the wind; the best Islander captains and crews could sail their ships within 60 degrees of the wind. This meant that their ships were capable of sailing even into the strong winds of the Roaring Forties.
The old Nangu ships had used a shallow enough draft that they could be pulled up onto a beach if one was available, or use a port and wait for a favourable wind. With their new ships, the direction of the wind became less of a concern, although their ships could still be pulled ashore in rough weather if the captain chose to do so.
The basic design of the Nangu ships would be similar for the next few centuries, although they made some refinements. Some Islander captains started to use larger sailing vessels which could not be pulled onto any beach, but which needed to operate from a port. By the late sixteenth century, a few of these ships were steered using a rudder rather than the traditional steering oar. However, even at the time of European contact, most smaller Nangu ships were still operated with a steering oar. There had been some refinements, but the general design would still have looked familiar to any Maori of the early fourteenth century.
With their new ships, and with their keen eye for anything which might turn a profit, the Islanders expanded their incipient trading network into a major enterprise. Nangu ships could carry sizeable cargoes, and their captains regularly sought new markets. One of their major roles was as middlemen who carried tin, gum cider and gold from Tjul Najima to destinations across mainland Australia. This included the Yadji across the Strait, the Mutjing in the Eyre Peninsula, and Tjibarr and the other Murray kingdoms, via Jugara and a road to the Bitter Lake [Lake Alexandrina].
In time, Nangu captains sailed around the barrier of the treeless desert, and made contact with the expanding Atjuntja dominions. This soon became a flourishing part of their trade network, and allowed the exchange of many ideas, crops and technologies between the east and the west of Australia. The Atjuntja acquired a much greater variety of eastern crops, and the mixed blessing of Gunnagalic medicine. Via the Islanders, the Yadji and the Murray kingdoms learned the Atjuntja technologies for working with iron.
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In 1618, the Island is the most densely-populated nation in Australasia. Fifty thousand people live crowded but happy lives on the Island. Trade and shipping is their lifeblood; not even the most intensive cultivation of Australian crops could support such a population. The Nangu do grow some food on the Island, and have large fishing fleets which venture across much of the Southern Ocean. Even with this, they rely on bulk shipping of wattle seeds and yams from the Mutjing city-states to feed their people. The Island is not completely stripped of trees, but timber is valuable enough for other purposes (mostly building) that most new Islander ships are now built further afield, either on the Eyre Peninsula or in timber camps on Tjul Najima.
Theirs is still a society of small holdings and socially divided bloodlines, rather than a unified metropolitan culture; for all of its dense population, the Island has no overwhelmingly large cities. Between them, the two largest cities, Crescent Bay and Deadwatch [Penneshaw] have only about five thousand inhabitants.
The Island’s government is still divided between the twenty-one surviving bloodlines, each of which preserves its claim to certain lands and trading rights. Competition between the bloodlines is one of the major drivers in their trading network. Each captain belongs to one bloodline or another, and they try to outdo each other in obtaining the greatest profits. The annual meeting of the Council of Elders maintains some order and does its best to resolve disputes amongst the bloodlines. Still, for all that the Nangu have converted to the supposedly peaceful faith of the Good Man, feuds and vendettas are common amongst the bloodlines.
In their lifestyle, the Islanders have abundant metal for tools, weapons and jewellery, all of it imported. Iron tools are used for most purposes on the Island itself, but since iron rusts quickly in salt air, they use bronze on their ships or close to the coast. In their early days on the Island, they lived in houses built of wood and earth, but with access to iron tools, most of their buildings are constructed from the local granite. Still, the Nangu are a people more given to personal ornamentation than to constructing many large buildings; most of the sizable edifices on the Island are the temples and sanctuaries of Pliri priests. Those temples are richly adorned with gold, silver and bronze donated by pious trader captains.
Shipping and trade underlie everything which the Islanders do, in one way or another. Their trade network is the most extensive in Australasia. In direct trade, their ships carry goods from one side of the continent to the other, and through their de facto colony of Jugara, they have links to the ancient trade routes of the Murray basin.
To the west, the Islanders regularly visit the Atjuntja dominions. Their visits are accepted by the Kings of Kings, who have established a trading quarter for them to use in the White City. The Islanders do not usually sail much further than the White City itself; the Atjuntja do not encourage visitors to round Cape Leeuwin [5]. A few Islander ships have visited the Indian Ocean from time to time, but their regular trading fleets go only to the White City, Warneang [Denmark] and a small port built south of Red Eye [Ravensthorpe].
To the east, Islander traders regularly visit ports in the Yadji lands and on Tjul Najima. Occasionally, they venture much further. Some bold Islander captains have been known to call as far north-east as the Nyumigal and Raduru of southern New South Wales, and there have been occasional diplomatic contacts with the Patjimunra in the Hunter Valley. Yet such visits remain rare; there are limits to how far Islander ships can sail, and much of the trade here is in Maori hands.
Within these limits, the Islanders are the dominant maritime power. They are mostly traders, but have been known to indulge in piracy if an opportunity presents itself. This particularly applies if they find any would-be foreign traders. The Islanders honour a tacit peace with Maori trading vessels, and do not interfere with Yadji ships which are sailing between their own ports. Otherwise, any rival ships caught out at sea are treated as targets.
The Islanders are mostly an economic power, but they are also adherents of the Pliri faith, which encourages conversion of other peoples. The reception of this faith has varied remarkably amongst the various peoples who have come into contact with the Islanders. The Atjuntja sternly discourage proselytisation, to the point of executing any would-be converts. The Yadji are also intolerant of other faiths, and persecute any of their subjects who convert to the Pliri faith. Tjibarr had long since made its own accommodation with the disciples of the Good Man, and the Islanders have had little influence there.
However, among the Mutjing city-states and parts of Tjul Najima, Pliri priests have found a much more receptive audience. The Mutjing have converted almost completely to the new faith. So have many of the inhabitants of Tjul Najima, although with more reservations. Even those Tjunini and Kurnawal who have adopted the Pliri faith retain most of their old attitudes, especially toward nationalism. The Palawa are prepared to listen to the Islanders who speak of the Good Man and his teachings, but their conversion has mostly been syncretic, where they adopt the Good Man’s teachings alongside their old beliefs. In recent times, the Islanders have established a few missions on the eastern coast of the continent, where some peoples have accepted the new faith.
The majority of the Nangu still live on the Island itself, but they do have some settlements and colonies elsewhere. Some of these are under foreign rule, such as the Islander quarter in the White City, or in some of the Yadji ports. Others are independent colonies, such as the timber camps and trading outposts in Macquarie Harbour [in Tasmania]. The Islanders also have an isolated mainland settlement whose name translates rather exactly as Isolation [Eucla]. This is in the middle of the treeless desert [Nullarbor]. Here farming is marginal, but fishing is good, and the settlement can sustain itself. Isolation is mostly used as a stopover point for ships on the western trade; they sometimes visit if they are running low on supplies or fleeing bad weather.
For all that Islander ships voyage far and wide across the continent, their most important trading destination is quite close to their home island. This is the Islander settlement of Jugara [Victor Harbor]. A few people lived there since ancient times, but the Islanders turned it into a major settlement. Jugara is the closest good harbour to the Murray Mouth, and it became an essential link in trade with the interior. The Murray itself is not navigable from the sea, but from Jugara the Islanders built a road to Bunara [Goolwa], a port on the Bitter Lake, where goods could be carried by people or by dog-pulled travois. From here, riverboats could move trade goods throughout the Murray basin [6]. This connected the old trade routes along the Murray and Darling rivers with the maritime trade networks of the Islanders, and led to a burgeoning growth in trade.
With the linking of the interior and maritime trading networks, Jugara grew into a bustling port, with a great variety of peoples visiting here. While the Islanders have always sought to maintain a monopoly on maritime shipping, they have never been averse to carrying other people on their ships. So Jugara has grown into a great entrepot where many peoples mingle; a place of vice and wealth. Here the Nangu are the largest ethnicity, and their “port captain” is the effective ruler of the city, but they are not alone. In Jugara live haughty Yadji, boisterous Nangu, hot-headed Gunnagal [7], drunken Tjunini and Kurnawal from the Cider Isle, stoic Atjuntja from the far west, wary Mutjing, and even the occasional Maori from distant Aotearoa.
Jugara has been an effective Islander colony since the fifteenth century, although its location makes it politically precarious. The lands between the Murray Mouth and Port Augusta have long been a contested region between the Yadji Empire and the kingdom of Tjibarr. However, while wars have raged and borders shifted, by unspoken convention, neither nation’s armies would plunder Jugara, Bunara or the road between them. The benefits of the trade were too valuable. Conquerors would impose taxes, duties and levies, but they never sought to close off trade entirely. This suits the Islanders, who are usually neutral in disputes between Yadji and Tjibarr. The tension between the two nations has another valuable advantage for the Islanders, since it means that the closest mainland ports to the Island are not available as a base for invasion.
So, in 1618, the Islanders are wealthy and flourishing. Military invasion from the mainland is not a serious risk, unless the Yadji can inflict the decisive defeat on Tjibarr which they have been seeking for so long. The only threat to the Islanders’ way of life comes from much further afield. With Islander captains always voyaging so far in search of profits, there are always a few Islanders in the west. So when the Raw Ones come out of the far west beyond the seas, Islanders will be among the first to hear of them...
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[1] Kangaroo Island was inhabited until some time between 3000 – 200 BC. It is unclear from the archaeological record whether the inhabitants died out or abandoned the island for the mainland. Given the uncertainty over the dates, it’s also not clear whether the island would still be inhabited by the time Gunnagalic peoples moved there. Even if it was inhabited, though, the relatively few hunter-gatherer inhabitants would have been overwhelmed by the demographic tide from the mainland.
[2] Investigator Strait, which separates Kangaroo Island from the mainland, is narrow enough that there have been reports of people who successfully swam across it.
[3] Kangaroo Island held a dwarf species of emu, variously called the Kangaroo Island emu or dwarf emu (Dromaius baudinianus) which was hunted to extinction by European whalers and sealers who used the island as a base of operations. In allohistorical Australia, it will similarly be easy prey for the early migrating Nangu.
[4] Some of the individual Maori tribes called themselves Tangata, which means “people.” As happened historically, Maori developed as a word which collectively referred to all of the Maori tribes, to distinguish them from outsiders (i.e. *Australians).
[5] The Atjuntja economic system relies on moving goods and tribute along internal routes. Allowing the Islanders to take over their internal trade would undermine their existing system, so the Atjuntja only permit the Islanders access to a few trade ports which can be used to traffic goods between the east and western parts of the continent.
[6] Victor Harbor (which is the correct spelling, oddly enough) was used similarly in historical Australia; one of Australia’s early railways connected it to Goolwa to move goods without needing to navigate the Murray Mouth.
[7] In 1618, the term Gunnagal is used to refer to people who live along much of the Murray itself, mostly from Tjibarr and from some other Murray kingdoms. Later ethnographers and historians will use the term to refer to the ancestral Gunnagalic-speaking peoples.
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Thoughts?
