Apr 11 2008
Beware the Bunyip
You may expect this post to describe the Bunyip to you, give you details of his habitat, genus, diet or even more personal revelations such as his mating habits. (Bunyips, like Leprechauns, tend to be male). You may even expect me to explain the Bunyip to you.
No such luck. Out of the question. Let’s get one thing clear from the start - no one can explain the Bunyip, no one can tell you what a Bunyip looks like. For no one has looked upon a Bunyip and lived to tell the tale!
When Europeans started moving into areas formerly occupied by Australian Aborigines, the whole continent seemed a harsh and unfriendly place. The sun glared down on eyes used to softer, wetter climes, the colours were too bright and the native animals were, to put it politely, grotesque.
So the notion of a savage beast lurking underwater waiting to seize the unwary seemed perfectly reasonable. After all, Europe had plenty of phooka, nixies, dixies, kelpies, selkies, merrow, mermaids and all manner of marine boggarts, why shouldn’t there be a monster in the water in the Great Southern Land? .
There were many attempts to capture a specimen throughout the 19th century. Sightings of a strange water creature were common near waterholes and estuaries but, although many claimed to see the creature, it was always from too far away, and it moved too fast, to accurately describe. Also, encounters with the Bunyip were commonly at dusk, when the shadows deepened under the mangroves.
So the descriptions vary widely. Some say the Bunyip has a long neck, tusks and flippers. Or that he is scaley, with a tail like a horse and a head like a bird. One day he appears as a huge snake with a beard and a mane and the next day he looks like a brutish and furry half-human. It’s a mystery. But a dangerous one.
Remember what I said earlier — No one who has looked upon the Bunyip has lived to tell the tale.
If you’re one of these hardy types who goes in for a spot of bushwalking, I can only beg you to beware of the Bunyip. Tourists, please take note, if you do come across the Bunyip, it will be near water. And most commonly at night. Creeks, lagoons, billabongs and rivers are his habitat and he will emerge from the dried up river bed or waterhole when you least expect him. He especially loves the wetlands around estuaries.
If you hear a loud bellowing cry, stay away from the water.
Possible Practical Explanations
Is the Bunyip a prehistoric survivor? The Diprotodon was an Ice-Age marsupial that co-existed with the early Aborigines before becoming extinct. Is this what is still remembered? Or perhaps there’s a Lost World full of dinosaurs somewhere in the Outback. A lot of dreamers have thought so. I’m one of them.
There were many sightings of the Bunyip in the 1930s with reports of beasts emerging from caves by creeks at night and pouncing on sheep. But this was the time of the Great Depression. Plenty of tramps had humped their bluey and taken to the road, for going bush, waltzing matilda, was the only viable option for many men in those hard times. The logical place to strike camp for the night is near water, and a sheep is an easier animal to catch and cook than a possum when you’re hungry.
Tramps by the riverbanks and Dipotrodons in the bushes are pretty rare these days, but one Australian creature you don’t want to bump into is the saltwater crocodile. Please be careful near water.
And beware of the Bunyip!
Recommended Reading
Proceeds of sales of the book Koalas: Australia’s Ancient Ones go to the rescue and recovery of injured koalas in the Koala Hospital in Port Macquarie.
Like to shout me a cold beer?
