Editor Lyndon Keane says the best environmental protection Cape York and the Torres Strait can receive is through people like Kuku Nyungkul Traditional Owner and bush medicine guide Harold “Mooks” Tayley, pictured on his grandfather’s Country at Rossville, sharing their passion and knowledge with locals and visitors. Photo: Cape York Weekly.
There’s a lot to be said for the benefit of letting people experience something with their own senses to garner a better understanding and appreciation of its importance, rather than lecturing about why it is so.
It’s certainly the case when it comes to the environment, and why it’s so critical it’s properly managed and protected, especially in landscapes as sensitive and precious as those we are fortunate enough to live amongst on Cape York and in the Torres Strait.
Before you tar and feather me as a hypocrite for saying that while continuing to criticise the push by the federal and former state governments to slap parts of Cape York with World Heritage status, consider how perfect an example my apparent juxtaposed thinking is of the polar opposite outcomes of experienced versus told learning.
Should some of our political overlords get their way to let UNSECO put parts of Cape York on the World Heritage list, it would require a ludicrous schedule of reporting, rules, regulations and red tape designed to control our backyard and guarantee the snout-in-trough careers of a battalion of bureaucrats both here and in Paris for decades to come. Would the UNSECO tick of approval really make us and anyone who visits the region better understand environmental protection and why we all have a role to play? Would World Heritage status help unlock remote economic sustainability by allowing us to use the environment as an educational tool? In both cases, I’d argue there’s an overwhelming case for no, and you only have to look at other places to have received UNESCO’s blessing to see what I’m talking about.
How then do we best protect our incredible natural environment for generations to come? How can we more effectively educate ourselves and visitors about the beautiful fragility of the environment? I say the answer is in empowering the best resource we have available – the people who call Cape York and the Torres Strait home.
The idea came to me at the weekend when I caught up with Kuku Nyungkul Elder Harold “Mooks” Tayley to check out his new-look bush medicine tour ahead of the annual influx of tourists from all over the world. Mooks is knowledgeable, passionate and able to convey key messaging about his culture, story and the necessity of sustainable environmental management better than any UNESCO or government propaganda or oversight ever could – and there are hundreds like him across Cape York and the Torres Strait.
Whether it’s a Traditional Owner, an island tour operator or a pastoralist, they all have a story to tell about their stewardship of the environment around them, whether it’s been for 30 years or 30,000 years. Why aren’t we exploiting this reality to drive and prioritise projects that will deliver environmental and economic wins?
What’s going to engage a tourist more – a social media campaign about protecting Cape York through the World Heritage machine, or letting them help muster cattle across a vast station, taste bush tucker and watch a sunset from the west coast of the Cape or one of the Torres Strait islands in genuine lived experiences of the connection between people and nature?
We’re lucky to have both the people and the canvas to sell the message of environmental protection better than anyone else, and the most effective way to achieve large-scale societal awareness may be to unlock unique hyperlocal ecotourism opportunities across the region.
If we and the estimated 100,000 tourists who visit Cape York each year can be immersed in the learning experience, not only do we start to nurture remote economic diversity, but we also create annual armies of people committed to environmental protection because they’ve seen, smelled, touched, tasted and heard the stories.
