When the red flowers appear on the kurrajong, the mud crabs have good flesh on them
We ate the crabs and fish, tasted buffalo stew, heard the buffalo snuffling around our camp
People danced and welcomed us with blue flags and great ceremony
Our camp is in an open area where the stingray came in and bit the ground in different places
The eyes of the stingray are waterholes where freshwater bubbles up out of the ground
Boat/sails/prau, the dreaming Macassans
“We had those designs”, said an old man
Wangarr – ancestral presence in the country, in the land Past, present, future
Djalkirri – strong spirit places
Different currents that go under and over each other mungurru – great current
Waters – shared between the clans
Baru, crocodile, diamond, fire
Mäna, the shark came inland up the river from the sea
Casuarina, Wangupini, the cloud of this tree
That arises in the sea
We sing about this tree
11 clans in the map of Blue Mud Bay, different dialects
Matthew Flinders met a captain of the Macassan fleet who had exchanged names,
Pobasso with Yolŋu – Wirrpanda
Garrangali the name of the band, is the crocodiles’ nest, a jungle area on the floodplain
Garrangari, the flood plain
Djambawa: I am still living and surviving with all those stories
The sand is still alive
The shape is still alive
The story is still alive
Blue – sea
White – cloud
Invisibility
Judy Watson Blue Mud Bay 2010