La Instrucción de la Dirección General de los Registros y del Notariado de

© Mitchell Library, State Library of New South Wales

The way in which people use the Reef islands has changed significantly since the beginning of the twentieth century, and is partly a reflection of the means by which people access the reefs and associated life forms. These changes have had particular impacts on haptic experiences of the reefs, islands and flora and fauna. Walking and fossicking on exposed corals at low tide was a central activity for Reef visitors for a large part of the twentieth century (Plate 34). This exposed them to a variety of tactile sensations, notably as they reached out to touch and handle the textures, movements, weights, forms and densities of different shells, corals and other creatures on the Reef.

Like a flash also disappear as one touches them the pink or green or blue feather heads of the sea worms (Serpula), that take their homes in the coral rock.

(Council for Scientific and Industrial Research 1926a)

The cotton bech-de-mer is very peculiar. It is a long, spongy substance, which, when touched with a stick, lets out long strings of cotton.

(Daly 1933)

[O]ne could easily fill pages with untechnical ravings about the loveliness of the marvellous burrowing clams, the queer thrill of holding a little cat shark up by his tail, and the collecting mania which seems to descend on everyone paddling among the pools and coral boulders.

(Stainton 1933)

The intimacy required by this kind of touch also brought danger. In an immediate sense this danger took the form of physical threats from venomous species like stonefish and cone

shells. In 1935 a young Reef visitor in his twenties, Charles Garbutt (Auckland Star 1943),

died as a consequence of handling a cone shell:

Cone shells containing the live animal should be handled with care when found along the Australian coast, Mr. F.A. McNeill, marine zoologist at the Australian Museum, warns the public.

His warning follows the recent tragic death of one of a party of visitors to Hayman Island, on the Barrier Reef, after being stung by a specimen of conus geographus.

Mr McNeill has received a photograph of the actual shell, containing the animal that stung the man. It is shown herewith[.] Eye-witnesses said that on picking up the shell, which was covered with a thin skin, the finder held it in his palm and started scraping it with a knife.

FIRST WHITE VICTIM

A barb-like spike, about half an inch long, was thrust out by the animal, and penetrated his palm.

He took no notice of it for some time, but then complained that his eyesight was failing.

He next lapsed into a coma, and exhibited all the symptoms of snake-bite. Rushed to the mainland, he died soon afterwards.

Museum authorities state that this is the first case of a white person having been killed by such means in Australia, although natives of Fiji and other Pacific islands have been affected and avoid handling live specimens carelessly.

(The Telegraph 1935: 9 August)

The health issues were therefore a real concern to the Belgian scientific expedition that visited the Reef in 1967. Prior to their arrival they specifically requested advice about “whether it would be possible to obtain instructions for the treatment of such particular problems as snake bite, stings by venomous fish (stonefish etc) and wounds or irritation

caused by certain corals, sea wasps and so on”. In response, the Prime Minister’s Department wrote that although there was no specific guide:

Injuries that the expedition may possibly suffer would include sunburn, dehydration, cuts from coral, external otitis, stings from hydroids, coral and jellyfish, puncture wounds from fish in general and particularly from Stonefish, Butterfly Cod, Mai-Mai, Pearl Perch etc.

There is also the possibility of injury from sea urchins, seastars, stingrays, cone shells, sea snakes as well as attacks from sharks. In addition, certain fish may be poisonous when eaten in certain seasons of the year.

(Prime Minister's Department 1967: 25th May)

These and other dangers comprise a significant part of the way the Reef was portrayed in the first part of the last century. Giant clams were regarded as dangerous and deadly for divers and many unknown or mysterious creatures were reputed to pose a menace. Some of this stems from the experiences of the navigators as discussed in Chapter 5. However, touch is not only linked with danger. Its role in establishing place is profound, and for locals it is strongly linked with their sense of ownership. Henry Lamond, whose comments on tourists were never very positive, reflected a concern about visitors who assumed the right to touch parts of the island that was his home:

Honeymoon couples are the nusiances [sic]. She wants something. He thinks she should have it. There’s nobody got the right to touch anything on this island only me and my family. There’s nothing for sale here. When the big strong man of the pair pulls out a wad to buy something for the bride---Well, then, the fun starts. Tell me, will you, who the hell are they that they think my soul has a price! It isn’t being done.

(Lamond 1934)

Contemporary conservation concerns have transformed these relationships of danger and ownership considerably. It is now perceived that the Reef is in danger from our tactile engagement. As recently as 1990, however, documentaries showed Valerie Taylor, one of Australia’s foremost advocates of underwater conservation, spinning, touching and playing with Reef creatures in a way that encouraged similar interaction by non-scientists (Film Australia 1990). The emphasis in these activities and the associated commentary is that these creatures are not dangerous. The most recent films present a much less invasive science. Although scientists continue to touch, play, kill and otherwise engage with these

creatures, it is a more hidden activity. Conservation regimes have diminished and

eliminated many historically interactive activities for Reef visitors. The protection of corals and shells prohibits fossicking as it was practised by both amateur scientists and enthusiasts alike. Instead, the Reef is now a conservation zone sanctioned primarily for use by the scientific community.

Like fossicking, the activity of turtle-riding, a pursuit that facilitated direct contact between people and Reef creatures, was once popular with both scientists and vacationers (Plate 35 and Film Compilation).

The visitors bathed twice daily in the warm and clear water of the lagoon, while turtle riding was frequently indulged in, and caused much merriment.

(The Sydney Morning Herald 1925a)