1980 Massacree

Today, after the rain, in the miniature delta and wadis that form where the creek empties onto the sand, you can see how the water has separated the different sands by weight, so that there are darker ripples and swirls. Along the dry sand, too, especially after rain, you can see the black grains in the lee of the mini 'dunes', as they have been left by the winnowing winds.

What the darker sand is, is not known to me. When I was a little boy, I was told it was rutile, and rutile I still call it, whether right or wrong. I don't know about you, but I've learned comparatively little since the age of eleven.

Rutile, titanium dioxide, is a mineral desired by industry, and heaven help any ecosystem cursed to have it. Whenever I see black swirls in the sand, I think of the word 'rutile', and Middle Head Beach, about two hours drive south of here.

In 1980, a big company called Mineral Deposits was going to mine Middle Head Beach, for rutile, as has happened at a number of beaches on the New South Wales coast. A number of people, hippies mostly, and surfers and others who loved Middle Head, didn't want Mineral Deposits to bulldoze a very special frontal dune forest just to embiggen the bank accounts of a few shareholders who had probably never even heard of the beach, or its ancient frontal dune forest. So an action began, which I had a bit to do with.

The Middle Head Beach action came hard on the heels of an important 1979 action a few hours north of here, called Terania Creek. It's near Nimbin, the famed alternative lifestyle town. There, hundreds of protesters had dug in, living for weeks and months right in the jungle, to stop a remarkable rainforest from being destroyed by logging. They had organised themselves in a "rainbow army", each division denoted by an armband of one of seven colours. People chained themslevs to trees, made homes in the tree canopy, even buried themselves neck-deep in the cold earth. Regardless of what big yellow vehicle might be passing that way the next morning.

The Terania protest was huge, drawn out -- and eventually successful, and today, many times more dollars are extracted from tourists' pockets than ever could have been made from sawing up the pristine rainforest. The waterfall there was even officially renamed Protesters Falls. Many of the new methods employed by Terania people were emulated worldwide, often with similar success.

Middle Head used similar tactics and strategies to those that our tribe had pioneered a few months earlier at Terania (many people were at both actions), but despite all our commitment, all the sitting in front of bulldozers, and the arrests, we lost this one. Macquarie Street (where State Parliament meets) sealed the fate of the magickal grove. The board of Mineral Deposits won, they bulldozed the forest in haste, and after six months, when they found that beneath the ruined forest there wasn't so much rutile after all, the suited directors in Sydney ordered the operation to pack up and leave behind ravaged Midddle Head. Not to mention the many now-unemployed workers, who naturally had vigorously opposed us in our struggle.

Between the beginning of the demo, and the loss of the forest, I wrote a song, which I thought I might share with you today. No particular reason other than that it's been sitting in my drawer for a quarter of a century, and I was thinking about rutile.

I chose the tune of '1913 Massacre', by Woody Guthrie, and I called it:-

1980 Massacree

Take a trip with me in 1980
to Middle Head Beach by the waves of the sea.
I’ll take you to a place that's older than time,
that Mineral … Deposits is going to mine.

We came from all parts of the wild north-east
to sit on the horns of the great yellow beast.
We sang in a circle, we held up our hands.
Our childern … were doing their poos in the sand.

At Terania Creek we learned how to fight
like angels by day and like ghosties at night.
Practice and knowledge a-plenty we got,
but spirits … don’t always arrive when you want.

We phoned all the media, "Come see our school,
our garden, our kitchen, our love and our cool".
They waited until we were dragged on our knees –
the reports said … we only protest for TV.

The black folks arrived and we said "Good one brothers,
Good-one-brothers-good-one-brothers-we-are-one-good-one-brothers.
Good-one-brothers-we-are-one-good-one-brothers-we-are-one …"
and so on … to make them feel right at home.

A National Parks man said "You got our support.
You better get hold of the Kramer Report."
We said "Can you tell us some things that you know?"
He answered … "This is right off the record, but no."

Oh alternative lifestyle's the word of the day,
which, being translated, means "a wilted bouquet".
And "could we get the energy into the circle, it’s late"
is parlance … for "shut up and listen, you straight".

The coppers they smiled and they all glanced askance
as into the forest we led them a dance.
One said, "Old man, you’re too old for a stir".
The old bloke … said "I must be a slow learner, sir."

Here’s to Pealine and Harley and Bob Rosen too –
I’m sure glad I don’t have the job that you do.
Some came and said it was disorganised –
others … said "Man let us run our own lives".

Some ask how we'd do it again, if we should,
if we would, if we thought for one minute we could
save us a beach for our children to grow –
I don’t know … but I'll start with "I don’t know".

Take a trip with me to Balmain and Glebe,
Wahroonga and Peakhurst and Macquarie Street.
"Hey isn’t this a delicious Sara Lee.
Is there any … more hippies tonight on TV?"

Happy birthday, Julia

Thirty-one years and one day ago, I was blessed with the first of my three wonderful children. Since 1994, Julia has blessed me with four children of her own: seen here with my daughter and friend are my granddchildren, left to right, Briar Rose, Sienna, Bailey and Jayden. We're looking forward to another such blessing in June.

A stranger at the Park Beach Plaza shopping mall kindly took this photo of me, Julia and kids yesterday as we celebrated Julia's birthday. I hope you enjoy seeing some of my tribe. Thanks, Baz le Tuff, for the loan of the camera for the morning.

Nightmare on Gum Street

A map of Sandy Beach will show that some of the streets, such as Pine Crescent, Maple Road and Chestnut Avenue, have been named after non-native species. A Chestnut Avenue in Australia is like a Gumtree Avenue in England or the USA -- perhaps a nice tribute to globalism, but otherwise not highly relevant.

Our naming of streets is reminiscent of our practices at Christmastime. I refer to the Australian 'cultural cringe' by which that which is native is considered less worthy than that which comes from the North. It just isn't Christmas in Oz without a Santa Claus sweltering in full winter gear on days when the tar is melting on the road. Melting, in fact, on roads named Elm, Pine and Chestnut more often than we should be proud of.

The trees that were here were seldom valued for their intrinsic values, but for their economic worth. I'm reminded of Oscar Wilde's saying that some people know the price of everything but the value of nothing. A tree was seen as either so many superfeet of timber, or something to turn into a stump which then had to be burned out to allow ploughing. The Australian motto, "If it moves, shoot it. If it doesn't, chop it down", should be engraved on our banknotes and emblazoned on our flag.

On the other hand, some of the local streets have been named after trees that do belong in the hinterland of Sandy Beach, but which are not so easy to find these days. Ironbark, Turpentine, Redbox, Acacia ... the trees haven't entirely disappeared, but, sadly, many people will know their names only from street signs. How many of us know what Sandy Beach might have looked like before the cattle grazers, banana farmers and real estate developers came in? I have to admit, it isn't that easy to imagine.

There would have been wetlands, but the farmers and developers, and no doubt the mapmakers, would have used the word 'swamp' for these. Behind the frontal dunes and back to the hills that now carry bananas would have been something like the relatively little relict forest that we've saved like a ship in a bottle for future generations, and which we call Moonee Beach Nature Reserve. It's a good idea to walk through that relic and get a feel for what Sandy was like, and how much better Sandy could have been designed for human habitation in concert with Nature. And maybe we won't keep making the same mistakes (though another such big mistake is on the drawing boards as I write).

Up and down the coast the story is the same. Maple Avenues and Elm Streets and mini-memorials to fallen forests. From about Kempsey north, stretching many hundreds of kilometres into Queensland, little more than a century ago was a huge cedar forest so dense that, we are told, to walk through it was scarcely to see the sky at any time through the canopy.

The cedar was all cut down (so now other species, many of them weeds, grow up) and shipped to Britain as the ballast in ships. There, our cedar was turned into building materials and furniture, mostly for the richer British people. Today, not only can you not find a cedar tree in Australia for love nor money, the prospect of finding a bit of cedar furniture is minimal except for the wealthy -- it's all in the UK, with a few ultra-expensive items remaining in a few mansions. (Sometimes, a poor bloke like me gets lucky and his grandfather bought a 19th-century Post Office cupboard and gave it to his young grandson back in the early '60s.)

It's a beautiful place, Sandy Beach, and was once a beautiful coastal forest. How easily and often do I forget. Just taking a flaneur around the village and looking at the street signs was a very good reminder.

Rapt(or) fascination

On the south side of Bare Bluff, the next beach down which is part of the Moonee Beach Nature Reserve, three White-bellied sea eagles were in no way uncertain who are the masters of the beach, and who the visitor.

Haliaeetus leucogaster (that's the ten-buck name for this beauty), ranges wide in coastal areas. You can find them in other places, like South-East Asia, China and India, and they're still a common sight in coastal and hinterland areas of Australia where they command territories of up to about 150 square kilometres. Often you'll watch them soaring overhead on a propitious breeze, when they will wheel off at high speed inland.

I was beneath these three, watching with rapt (or should that be raptor?) attention as they sat motionless on the wind, a feat only superseded in wonderment by their ability to fly into the strong sou'-easter. Then, as one, they wheeled off to the crags of Bare Bluff.

Having been standing in awe, head directed upwards, for some minutes, I continued on my flaneur along the deserted beach, stopping here to observe a Ghost crab nest, and there to roll a driftwood tree trunk with my foot, when what looked like the Mother of All Sea Eagles came into view from the south-east, and flew onto the bluff. The pure whiteness of its underbelly and contrasting blackness of its wings was a beautiful sight as such close quarters.

I don't know where their nest is, but I imagine it would be a sight to behold. These birds make nests of sticks that can be wider than I am tall. It's probably on a tall tree somewhere (less likely, on a rocky crag), and not necessarily anywhere near Sandy, such is the range of these magnificent masters of the sky.

In my last two posts I mentioned John Gould, after whom I have named my pet Gouldian finch. The painting here today is one by the Great English naturalist. And here's a photo by the eminent Australian wildlife photographer, Greg Holland (g'day Greg ... long time), of a White-bellied sea eagle carrying a sea snake.

By the way, North American readers might be interested to know that H leucogaster has a few cousins, one of whom is none other than H leucocephalus, the Bald eagle of USA iconography fame, a magnificent creature that people are helping to bring back from the brink of extinction.

Flying flowers

(This picture added on October 4, 2005 after getting a camera in May)

Yesterday I showed a fuzzy webcam shot of John Gould, my exquisite flatmate, and promised to chat a bit more about this spectacular species of bird, known sometimes as Chloebia gouldiae and at others, Erythrura gouldiae.

Gouldian finches were once one of the most common finches throughout the savannah woodlands across the vast expanses of Northern Australia. Now they're listed as an endangered species due to the fact that Gouldians are now restricted to a few small and scattered populations. Bad land management practices have severely damaged the habitat of this beautiful little bird, and it's now locally extinct in many areas.

Grazing by cattle, feral horses and pigs, burning of nest trees, exotic disease, effects of nasal parasites, past trapping for the international caged bird trade, and inappropriate fire regimes, all seem to have some part to play in the fact that only a couple of thousand birds exist in the wild. Sometimes even government agencies in recent times have been reponsible for habitat removal. Last century, countless Gouldians were exported for the world's cages, but although legal harvesting of Gouldian finches ceased in the 1980s, still the species is in decline.

Just as the birds' Latin names are mixed up, so are the common monikers. Sometimes they are called Painted finches, or Rainbow finches. Our cousins in the USA seem sometimes to call them Lady Gouldian finches. This is because they were described by the great 19th-century British naturalist and artist, John Gould, who named them after his wife and colleague, Elizabeth Gould. However, for Mrs Gould to have been a lady, wouldn't hubby first have to have been a lord or baronet? As far as I know, he wasn't. I don't think he was even a knight. (If you know more, please let me know.) So, if we are to call them anything other than Gouldians, they should probably be Mrs Gouldians, but Lady Gouldians does sound pretty nice. There is a similar practice in Sydney, where a certain small headland on the harbour, Mrs Macquarie's Chair, is commonly called Lady Macquarie's Chair. A couple of centuries ago, Governor Macquarie's wife used to sit down there and enjoy the view, but she was never a Lady, simply a Mrs, as Lachlan Macquarie was only a Mr.

By the way, I will probably get John a mate some day, and I guess she will have to be Elizabeth. I do hope my brother and sister don't mind, because those are their names as well. Perhaps I should call the birds Lord and Lady to make up for the lack of deserved regal honours that were accorded to probably, with John James Audubon, equal first as the world's greatest bird artist.

John doesn't belong here at Sandy Beach, several thousand kilometres south-west of the Top End of Australia. He is a northern interloper, just as I am a southern one. I can't claim that I have him living in the cabin for purposes of saving his dying species. Nor can I claim that either he or I should be living in this habitat which is not and never has been ready for our presence. But we are here, and as long as venemous snakes don't ever slither inside in order to have a rainbow-coloured midnight snack, John will remain. Six Zebra finches in the outdoor aviary were lost last year to a marauding Carpet python, but as those aren't poisonous it was not a scary proposition. However, when the aviary was full I had a visit at the door -- this door, four feet from where I am typing -- from a venemous Red-belly black snake, and I don't care to have those under my bare feet.

See you tomorrow. John's flying all around the cabin and looks like he might be hungry, and I know I am.

Information sheet (PDF file)
Gouldian Finch Recovery Project
Images of Gouldians on stamps of 20 countries
Australian bird stamps
Australian endangered finches

Meet my flatmate

I know, I know, I haven't really been here for a week. Sorry, it's been quite busy and ... and ... I've been slack. Not slack really, just a bit brain tired.

I haven't even washed my windows, as my flatmate, John, is obviously concerned about.

Why John? I'll tell you tomorrow why that's this little finch's name. At least I didn't call him Peter Finch.

Deadline for DCP submissions March 18

Local readers: March 18 is the deadline for submissions to Council on the Development Control Plan. Information for your letter can be found here.

Sandy's Beach

I thought I might take a quick look at some of the naming associated with this local environment, not just because it interests me, but because perhaps some readers might have information to add to my limited knowledge.

You can go to MultiMap and zoom in from the continent of Australia, right down to Sandy's Beach Road.

Sandy's Beach Road? Isn't it Sandy Beach Drive? There is a difference, after all. I, and other locals, I believe, call it Sandy Beach Drive. And so said the sign until recently. How many have noticed that the name has changed to Sandy's Beach Road? I have made a note to investigate this with the authorities further next week. Not something to start on a Friday afternoon.

'Sandy's Beach' Road? Well, yes. In fact, I am led to believe that this place is named not for its sand, but for a former resident. Mr and Mrs Graham, only a few decades ago, owned a lot of the land here. Mr Graham's wife's name was Sandy, and he named the beach for her. Unless I'm mistaken, usage has seen the original name drift in only about 50 years. No wonder archaeologists and linguists around the world have such a tough job. Graham Drive, a major thoroughfare, bears witness to the Graham family's association with this neck of the woods.

Speaking of woods, a large number of street names in the local area bear the names of trees, and I hope to come back to this subject over the weekend. Thanks for visiting A Sandy Beach Almanac, and make a great day!

Robin Hood and his merry Sea cucumbers

The big hairy Sea cucumber (Holothuroidea Spp.) I nearly stepped on in the warm rockpool looks exactly like the one in the Wikipedia article.

In other words, as I stepped over the rocks and through the pools, I could either assume it was a bit of driftwood, probably of the tree fern variety, or that it was a Sea cucumber. It wasn't moving and from a distance I thought it was a bit of sunken flotsam. On closer inspection it was this harmless but rather creepy looking creature. Poor thing. About looking creepy, I mean. I'm sorry, but it does! I just hope someone's dog doesn't also think so.

This fella might be happier crawling across some of the coral further out from the beach than stuck in a shallow pool on the shore. And it was shallow: he was about 25cm below the surface. Lots of little guppy fish of at least two species were swimming all over him, possibly to eat his slime. That's just a guess.

He is one of about 1400 living species of Holothuroidea that come in a variety of forms. They're all in the phylum Echinodermata, along with their cousins, the thousands of varieties of starfish and sea urchins of the world.

They sailed like Columbus, Raleigh and Drake



Many people in the Orient love Sea cucumbers in their cuisine. When he's dining out, Holothuroidea is known as bêche-de-mer, or trepang. The Makassans were coming down south from their South-East Asian home to catch trepang for centuries before Europeans came to Australia. They, and indigenous Australian divers, were catching, preparing and trading this delicacy when England was still a feudal society.

Lately, when the Commonwealth of Australia finds Makassan fishermen in 'our' waters, it throws them in jail and burns their boats. "Hell, we were here first!" In fact, we Aussies treat them very much the way we treat people fleeing dictatorships, like the notorious, tragic Tampa and SIEV-X cases. Happens all the time.

It's been estimated that 6 million trepang (more than 350 tonnes) were exported from Australia every Summer for at least three, perhaps six, centuries before white settlement in 1788. That would take it back to about the year 1188. The days of Richard the Lionheart, Saladin and Robin Hood.

Fleets of sixty or more prahus (25-tonne boats) took the vast cargo home each year, armed against the pirates that even today are a frightening feature of the waters north of this country:

" ... sixty prows belonging to the Rajah of Boni, and carrying one thousand men, had left Macassar with the north-west monsoon, two months before, upon an expedition to this coast; and the fleet was then lying in different places to the westward, five or six together, Pobassoo's division being the foremost. These prows seemed to be about twenty-five tons, and to have twenty or twenty-five men in each; that of Pobassoo carried two small brass guns, obtained from the Dutch, but all the others had only muskets; besides which, every Malay wears a cress or dagger, either secretly or openly ..."
Matthew Flinders (1774-1814), Australian explorer

Pictured here is Macassans at Victoria, Port Essington, 1845, by HS Melville (source; click thumbnail to enlarge). It shows Makassan and Aboriginal trepang-getters preparing the catch.

Port Essington, Victoria, by the way, is not on the north coast of Australia, near Makassar in Indonesia, but thousands of kilometres south at the bottom of the continent. The dangerous journey in the Roaring Forties gales, as the map shows, was probably longer than that taken by Christopher Columbus. The Makassans could sail like Columbus, Raleigh and Drake, quite possibly centuries before them. I suspect this is not widely known in Europe or North America ... because very few Australians would know it either.

How far did these master mariners sail, and what grand adventures did they have when the Makassans ruled seas as big as the North Atlantic, maybe bigger? What great battles and royal intrigues, what brave colonial experiments and what business ventures did they know? How many of them took Aboriginal wives and families home, and how many jumped ship and joined inland tribes?

Did ancient prahus sail down to the Antarctic seas, searching for a promised land but dying a frozen death? How far west did they sail, into African waters? Did a Makassan sailor ever sit by a fire with an Australian and tell him of the glories of the Court of Kublai Khan? Perhaps one day we will know more. Because so much information has been lost to time, I can't even tell if my questions make sense, but a little conjecture is good for the soul.

The flesh of the trepang has to be drenched in water for a long time prior to cooking, in order to remove a lot of the gelatinous goo, or so I'm told. Unfortunately, although my culinary tastes are quite adventurous, I'm cursed with that typical Anglo-Celtic preference for as little slime as possible in my food, so I think next time at the Chinese I won't be eating trepang, but something like roast duck (my favourite). Besides, the ducks of the world aren't in danger of disappearing like this little harmless fella is. Sea cucumbers are too easy to catch, their price is too appealing to the fishing industry, and their top-heavy age structures mean that populations can be easily decimated.

Mmmmm Chinese roast duck. (Now I guess I've just lost my vegetarian readers. Not to mention any ducks.)

Positions vacant: Sandy Beach parking police

Every two weeks or so I drive to beautiful Bellingen, a town about one hour south of here. I have close associations with 'Bello', and in many ways think of it as my home town. Each fortnight I record about 15 short radio programs based on the Book of Days.

Bellingen has changed greatly in the 32 years that I have been driving off the Pacific Highway and into the green valley. (I wrote a short piece called 'One Eye. One Arsehole. One Jim', about the changes and my reaction to them.) Among other things, the main street, Hyde Street, has gone from a road with a dog sleeping on it, to a parking nightmare.

I've also seen many changes to that sign that you see as you enter the town. Currently it reads 'Population 2,600'.

Population 2,600? Hmmmm ... That's a number that Sandy Beach will begin nudging quite quickly if a certain proposed 'development' occurs. So what does a population of 2,600 mean to a village that now boasts a telephone box and a general store the size of a living room?

Taking Bellingen as a yardstick, it means we'd probably need not just parking officers, but also a website like Bellingen.com, with just a few ads for local businesses and other things, such as:

Bliss Lodge
Blue Gum B&B (Bed and Breakfast)
CasaBelle Country Guesthouse
Fernbrook Lodge
Lily Pily Country House
Hyde 'n' Seek B&B
Maino Gabuna
Meriden Heights
Monticello Countryhouse
MossGrove B&B
Rivendell Guesthouse
Rose Patch B&B
Tallawalla Retreat B&B
Casey's Lane
Clouds End
Koompartoo Retreat
Kumbaingiri Retreat
Newry Island Retreat
Woodsong Forest Retreat
Aunty Lil's B&B
Bellinger River Family Cabins
Crystall Creek Farm Cottage
Fernridge Farm Cottage
Hungry Head Studios
Jelga Cottages
Lisnagarvey Cottage B&B
Mountside
Promised Land Cottages
Wyldefel Country Cottage
Bellingen Farmstay
Hyde Hill Cottage
Lisnagarvey Cottage B&B
Maddefords Cottages
Malibells Country Cottages
Marenga Chalet
Serendip River Retreat
Bellinger Valley Motor Inn
Bellingen YHA
Gracemere Grange
Ridgetop Hideaway
Affirmations Greeting Cards
Applied Vision
Banana Coast Credit Union
Bellingen Chamber of Commerce
Bellingen Florist
Bellinger Printing Services
Booma Boers Goat Stud
Buteyko Breathing
CD Celebrations
Country Moments
Ecohouse
Flower Essence
Full Moon Health Products
Future Eden
Hungry Head Studios
Kakadu Clothing
Kahn Design (Opals)
KidsBootz
Kiwi Downunder
Kombu Wholefoods
Light the Way
Moon Diary
No Bananas Indian Incense
Old Butter Factory
Opals 4 Sale
Personalised Children's CDs
Radio Supply
Rainforest Essentials
Sacred Space Essentials
Sandy Brennan Handmade Cards
Valley Kit Homes
Bailey Dixon Lawyers
Bellinger Valley Self
StorageCarl Foster's Garage
Enterprise Training Company
Fahey & Co Chartered Accountants
House of Photograpy
Kalang Mud Design Studio
Northbank Kitchens
Paul Tipper & Associates
Soilsmart Sustainable
Valley Tree Services
VideoMicParker
Wallaby Tracks Leather Footwear
The Coffee Cosy Co
Heartland Didgeridoos
The Honey Place
Planet Lighting
Realities Cold Cast Bronzes
Vintage Wiring Harness
Denwar Harps
Rose Gum Timber
Bellinger Instruments
Pressed Earth
Mountain Top Timbers
Luxury Bed Linens
Bellingen's Best Real Estate
Bellingenrealestate.net
Bob Hamilton Real Estate
Kirkland Real Estate Bellingen
LJ Hooker Real Estate
For Sale By Owner 20/20
Imagineering Computer Sales
Bellingen Internet Access
Technicality - PC Support
IDeliverIT-refurbished Laptops
Between Bytes - internet access
Harryproa & Marine Cad Services
Dynamic Web Solutions - web site design
Paul Forest - Search Engine Optimisation
Ever Living Images
ADNET
Hot Net
Country Energy
Internet TPG
Dodo Internet
Australia Job Search
JOBnet Byron
Employment Australia
New Generation Australia
Bellingen Canoe Adventures
Golf Club
Fairytale Horse-drawn Tours
Hinterland Tours
NSW National Parks
Flying Foxes of Bellinger Island
Dorrigo - Bellingen - Urunga Bicycle Users Group
Valery Trails
Horse Riding
Yoga, Pilates, Fitball, Aqua Fitness
Bellingen Fitness Centre ("the gym")
Bellingen Pool
Steam Railway Museum
NRMA on Waterfall Way
The Global Carnival
Stamping Ground
Bellingen Jazz & Blues Festival
Camp Creative
Anchors Wharf Cafe
Bare Nature
Cool Creek Cafe
The Carriageway Cafe
Lodge 241
The Boiling Billy
Old Butter Factory Cafe Rivers Restaurant
Cobblestones Restaurant No. 2
Oak Street Merlion Chinese Restaurant
Bellingen Valley Cinema
Sawtell First Avenue Cinema
2bbbfm
Wind Frequency Visitor
Information Centre
Bellingen Neighbourhood Centre
Bellingen Council
IFC's Temple of Divine Love
Homeland Community, Thora
Friends of the Rainforest
Flying Foxes of Bellinger Island
Bellingen Environment Centre
Save the Brumbies
Bellingen Shire Maps
Bellingen Library
Bellingen Agricultural Show
Bellingen Events Calendar
Bellingen Global Carnival
Bellingen Markets
Bellingen Playback Theatre
Stamping Ground
Biodynamic Wine Forum
Bellingen A.C.E.
B.E.S.T./ETC
Biodynamic Wine Forum
Chrysalis Steiner School
Internet Tutorials
On-line Tutorials
Camp Creative
Bellingen High School
AkaBella
Australian Gen Web
Seaboard Resource Centre
Bellingen Christian Life Centre
Bellingen Community Arts Council
Bellingen Art Prize
Nicholas Uhlmann Sculpture
Kryscina Merrett
Leigh Morgan
Laetitia's Art Works
Colin Thompson Books
Tallowood Band
Thorazoo (independent music)
Australia East Coast
Hinterland
B.E.C. site on Bellingen
Holidaycoast

Of course, we'd need two supermarkets and some of the other businesses not mentioned above, like Bellingen's Federal Hotel and its bottle shop, and the Bellingen bottle shop a few doors up Hyde St. With that many residents you can't really expect people to drive to Woolgoolga for a cleansing ale, not to mention the tourists and people visiting their friends who have moved here for the quiet pace of life and Nature relatively unspoiled by humans. And don't we know how tourists, guests and backpackers love to party!

Any dogs sleeping on the road at Sandy Beach would be advised to seek out new quarters. Come to think of it, it might be an idea to keep the kids indoors as well. Fortunately, Bellingen also has a police station and I'm sure the government would put one here too, and if they don't, we could petition them when the inevitable crime starts.