That Was My Home: Voices from the Noongar Camps in Fremantle and the Western Suburbs

by Denise Cook

242 pp., illustrated, UWA Publishing, 2019,

ISBN: 9781760800321 (pbk), $29.99

Review by Cindy Solonec

History Council of Western Australia

That Was My Home reveals the lifestyles of Noongar fringe dwellers in the Perth suburbs of Swanbourne, Daglish, Jolimont, Shenton Park and Fremantle during the 1900s. Today, these are the affluent suburbs of Perth. With respect to the Whaduk Noongar Elders, on whose boodja (land) the camps materialised, Denise Cook has ensured that she was guided by correct protocols, and she developed questions respectful to the Traditional Owners. The ‘in living memory’ candid descriptions powerfully remind us just how young Australia is as a nation. Within 50 years of invasion, in 1828, Western Australia’s Indigenous peoples were living on the edges of Western society in their own backyard, off the back of terra nullius, a myth that this wide land belonged to no one. Fringe dwelling lifestyles imposed on Noongars are an important part of Perth’s history, one that, according to the author, is relatively unknown by the wider community. Camp stories are not found in the official records.

A host of acknowledgements introduces the voices, which indicates an extensive research project. Noongar oral histories are occasionally supported with observations from wudjella (non-Aboriginal) folk who lived near the camps, and from children who went to school with the camp kids. Most camp Noongars had moved onto Whadyuk boodja from wheatbelt regions during the 1930s Depression era, following the collapse of rural work. The camps emerged around rivers, lakes, on properties with water pumps, and often near rubbish tips and even sanitary facilities and an asylum. No water, gas or light meant that they improvised in the best way they could with campfires for cooking and they carried water in buckets to their homes.

Corrie ‘Koori’ Bodney, one of the many contributors to the book, lived the fringe dwellers’ life moving from camp to camp with his parents during the 1930s. Their shanties were made of bits of tin, branches, sticks and old hessian bags. They slept on the floor and kept warm with ration blankets supplied by the Native Welfare Department. Offcuts of fish and meat were sourced cheaply from stores while flaps were the main meat source. Some people grew their own vegies. ‘The tip used to be like a shopping centre where we’d go to get a lot of stuff. Wire, sometimes clothes, and all’ (p. 37). They moved from bush camp to bush camp, as development encroached on their shanty homes. Early in the 1900s as Aboriginal people came into Perth discussions were held to accommodate them on suitable areas with ‘large, shady trees’ (p. 129). Housing for Noongars was always second rate to non-Aboriginal people on any official’s priority list. They were thought to be a ‘fast disappearing people’ (p. 129). Well, perhaps from the now affluent western suburbs, but not from the Western Australian community.

Notably, the numbers of people living in the camps is hard to determine because of inadequate population data specific to Aboriginal peoples. While the available statistics are only about those who were controlled by the Department of Native Affairs, there is no count of the people classed as less than ‘half-caste’. Complementing the camp stories are a wide selection of images and maps – some hand drawn – that bring a sense of place. Oral histories, interspersed with government officials’ practices under the Aborigines Act 1905 and the Native Administration Act 1905–1936 validates how Noongars were forced to live in the bush on the fringes of Perth’s white society. Adults considered incapable of parenting had their children forcefully removed to institutions, like Moore River and Roelands. Stories of parents stealthily retrieving their kids in the middle of the night and walking miles back to the metro area, demonstrate the resilience and determination of our first peoples in the face of adversity.

To earn money men sold clothesline props that they carved from branches, did golf caddying and worked in abattoirs while women generally did housework for wudjellas. Their children went to the local schools. Some non-Aboriginal kids did not even know their Noongar friends lived in camps. Moreover, if they did, they were told by their parents the camps were off limits, which made them ever curious about the camps. Joyce Reed lived on Jolimont Terrace and she remembers seeing, from her front veranda, smoke in the bushes from the camps.

Despite the deplorable conditions that Noongars were forced to live, under racist laws, the good times hold firm place in their memory vaults. The book offers some beautiful passages. Children played in the camps and wheatbelt families visited during holiday times. The Royal Agricultural Show was popular. Several storytellers give detailed coverage to their lifestyle – for some, it was the only way of life they knew as children. They made the most of their terrible living conditions. Today, as this social history gathers momentum, tribute to the Noongar camps can be found at the Freshwater Bay Museum in Claremont.

That Was My Home is a significant account of Perth’s Noongar social history during the 1900s and needs to be in every local history class. If we do not know what happened in the past, how can we understand what is happening today? Homelessness continues to be an issue for Indigenous Australians.