Academic literature on the topic 'Macintyre River'

Seven new species of Argia are described, five of which occur in Costa Rica: Argia calverti n. sp. (Holotype ♂, Costa Rica, Cartago Prov., Tapantí Reserve, 1,310 m, 6 vii 1963, F. G. Thompson leg., in FSCA); Argia carolus n. sp. (Holotype ♂, Costa Rica, San José Prov., El Rodeo Biological Reserve, 7 km W of Villa Colón, 9°54' N, 84°16' W, 561 m, 10–13 vii 1990, T. W. Donnelly leg., in FSCA); Argia elongata n. sp. (Holotype ♂, Costa Rica, Cartago Prov., Reventazón river, SE of Turrialba by highway 10, 9°52'56'' N, 83°38'49'' W, 561 m, 10 viii 1979, R. W. & J. A. Garrison leg., in CSCA); Argia haberi n. sp. (Holotype ♂, Costa Rica, San José Prov., Bosque del Tolomuco, km 118 on Pan American highway, in seeps and trickles through brushy pasture on forested hillside, 9°28'18'' N, 83°41'48'' W, 1,710 m, 27 iii 2006, F. Sibley leg., in FSCA); Argia schorri n. sp. (Holotype ♂, Costa Rica, Puntarenas Prov., 2.8 mi E of Golfito, 8°39' N, 83°7' W, 35 m, 4 vii 1967, O. S. Flint, Jr. & M. A. Ortiz B. leg., in USNM), and two which are so far only known from Mexico and Ecuador respectively: Argia rudolphi n. sp. (Holotype ♂, Mexico, Puebla State, Zihuateutla, Sierra de Huauchinango, La Unión, in drainage area, 20°14'25'' N, 97°53'38'' W, 596 m, 21 v 1987, R. Novelo & A. Gómez leg., in CSCA) and Argia schneideri n. sp. (Holotype ♂, Ecuador, Napo Prov., Las Palmas, on Anzu river in Napo river watershed, 11 xii 1936, W. Clark-MacIntyre leg., in UMMZ). All the new species, as well as closely related species needed for diagnosis including A. anceps Garrison, A. cupraurea Calvert, A. cuprea (Hagen), A. extranea (Hagen), A. fissa Selys, A. fulgida Navás, A. oenea Hagen in Selys, A. popoluca Calvert, A. rhoadsi Calvert, and A. westfalli Garrison, are illustrated and diagnosed from their congeners and their known distribution areas are mapped.

The Leichhardt Highway is a six hundred-kilometre stretch of sealed inland road that joins the Australian Queensland border town of Goondiwindi with the Capricorn Highway, just south of the Tropic of Capricorn. Named after the young Prussian naturalist Ludwig Leichhardt, part of this roadway follows the route his party took as they crossed northern Australia from Morton Bay (Brisbane) to Port Essington (near Darwin). Ignoring the usual colonial practice of honouring the powerful and aristocratic, Leichhardt named the noteworthy features along this route after his supporters and fellow expeditioners. Many of these names are still in use and a series of public monuments have also been erected in the intervening century and a half to commemorate this journey. Unlike Leichhardt, who survived his epic trip, some contemporary travellers who navigate the remote roadway named in his honour do not arrive at their final destinations. Memorials to these violently interrupted lives line the highway, many enigmatically located in places where there is no obvious explanation for the lethal violence that occurred there. This examination profiles the memorials along Leichhardt’s highway as Gothic practice, in order to illuminate some of the uncanny paradoxes around public memorials, as well as the loaded emotional terrain such commemorative practices may inhabit. All humans know that death awaits them (Morell). Yet, despite this, and the unprecedented torrent of images of death and dying saturating news, television, and social media (Duwe; Sumiala; Bisceglio), Gorer’s mid-century ideas about the denial of death and Becker’s 1973 Pulitzer prize-winning description of the purpose of human civilization as a defence against this knowledge remains current in the contemporary trope that individuals (at least in the West) deny their mortality. Contributing to this enigmatic situation is how many deny the realities of aging and bodily decay—the promise of the “life extension” industries (Hall)—and are shielded from death by hospitals, palliative care providers, and the multimillion dollar funeral industry (Kiernan). Drawing on Piatti-Farnell’s concept of popular culture artefacts as “haunted/haunting” texts, the below describes how memorials to the dead can powerfully reconnect those who experience them with death’s reality, by providing an “encrypted passageway through which the dead re-join the living in a responsive cycle of exchange and experience” (Piatti-Farnell). While certainly very different to the “sublime” iconic Gothic structure, the Gothic ruin that Summers argued could be seen as “a sacred relic, a memorial, a symbol of infinite sadness, of tenderest sensibility and regret” (407), these memorials do function in both this way as melancholy/regret-inducing relics as well as in Piatti-Farnell’s sense of bringing the dead into everyday consciousness. Such memorialising activity also evokes one of Spooner’s features of the Gothic, by acknowledging “the legacies of the past and its burdens on the present” (8).Ludwig Leichhardt and His HighwayWhen Leichhardt returned to Sydney in 1846 from his 18-month journey across northern Australia, he was greeted with surprise and then acclaim. Having mounted his expedition without any backing from influential figures in the colony, his party was presumed lost only weeks after its departure. Yet, once Leichhardt and almost all his expedition returned, he was hailed “Prince of Explorers” (Erdos). When awarding him a significant purse raised by public subscription, then Speaker of the Legislative Council voiced what he believed would be the explorer’s lasting memorial —the public memory of his achievement: “the undying glory of having your name enrolled amongst those of the great men whose genius and enterprise have impelled them to seek for fame in the prosecution of geographical science” (ctd. Leichhardt 539). Despite this acclaim, Leichhardt was a controversial figure in his day; his future prestige not enhanced by his Prussian/Germanic background or his disappearance two years later attempting to cross the continent. What troubled the colonial political class, however, was his transgressive act of naming features along his route after commoners rather than the colony’s aristocrats. Today, the Leichhardt Highway closely follows Leichhardt’s 1844-45 route for some 130 kilometres from Miles, north through Wandoan to Taroom. In the first weeks of his journey, Leichhardt named 16 features in this area: 6 of the more major of these after the men in his party—including the Aboriginal man ‘Charley’ and boy John Murphy—4 more after the tradesmen and other non-aristocratic sponsors of his venture, and the remainder either in memory of the journey’s quotidian events or natural features there found. What we now accept as traditional memorialising practice could in this case be termed as Gothic, in that it upset the rational, normal order of its day, and by honouring humble shopkeepers, blacksmiths and Indigenous individuals, revealed the “disturbance and ambivalence” (Botting 4) that underlay colonial class relations (Macintyre). On 1 December 1844, Leichhardt also memorialised his own past, referencing the Gothic in naming a watercourse The Creek of the Ruined Castles due to the “high sandstone rocks, fissured and broken like pillars and walls and the high gates of the ruined castles of Germany” (57). Leichhardt also disturbed and disfigured the nature he so admired, famously carving his initials deep into trees along his route—a number of which still exist, including the so-called Leichhardt Tree, a large coolibah in Taroom’s main street. Leichhardt also wrote his own memorial, keeping detailed records of his experiences—both good and more regretful—in the form of field books, notebooks and letters, with his major volume about this expedition published in London in 1847. Leichhardt’s journey has since been memorialised in various ways along the route. The Leichhardt Tree has been further defaced with numerous plaques nailed into its ancient bark, and the town’s federal government-funded Bicentennial project raised a formal memorial—a large sandstone slab laid with three bronze plaques—in the newly-named Ludwig Leichhardt Park. Leichhardt’s name also adorns many sites both along, and outside, the routes of his expeditions. While these fittingly include natural features such as the Leichhardt River in north-west Queensland (named in 1856 by Augustus Gregory who crossed it by searching for traces of the explorer’s ill-fated 1848 expedition), there are also many businesses across Queensland and the Northern Territory less appropriately carrying his name. More somber monuments to Leichhardt’s legacy also resulted from this journey. The first of these was the white settlement that followed his declaration that the countryside he moved through was well endowed with fertile soils. With squatters and settlers moving in and land taken up before Leichhardt had even arrived back in Sydney, the local Yeeman people were displaced, mistreated and completely eradicated within a decade (Elder). Mid-twentieth century, Patrick White’s literary reincarnation, Voss of the eponymous novel, and paintings by Sidney Nolan and Albert Tucker have enshrined in popular memory not only the difficult (and often described as Gothic) nature of the landscape through which Leichhardt travelled (Adams; Mollinson, and Bonham), but also the distinctive and contrary blend of intelligence, spiritual mysticism, recklessness, and stoicism Leichhardt brought to his task. Roadside Memorials Today, the Leichhardt Highway is also lined with a series of roadside shrines to those who have died much more recently. While, like centotaphs, tombstones, and cemeteries, these memorialise the dead, they differ in usually marking the exact location that death occurred. In 43 BC, Cicero articulated the idea of the dead living in memory, “The life of the dead consists in the recollection cherished of them by the living” (93), yet Nelson is one of very few contemporary writers to link roadside memorials to elements of Gothic sensibility. Such constructions can, however, be described as Gothic, in that they make the roadway unfamiliar by inscribing onto it the memory of corporeal trauma and, in the process, re-creating their locations as vivid sites of pain and suffering. These are also enigmatic sites. Traffic levels are generally low along the flat or gently undulating terrain and many of these memorials are located in locations where there is no obvious explanation for the violence that occurred there. They are loci of contradictions, in that they are both more private than other memorials, in being designed, and often made and erected, by family and friends of the deceased, and yet more public, visible to all who pass by (Campbell). Cemeteries are set apart from their surroundings; the roadside memorial is, in contrast, usually in open view along a thoroughfare. In further contrast to cemeteries, which contain many relatively standardised gravesites, individual roadside memorials encapsulate and express not only the vivid grief of family and friends but also—when they include vehicle wreckage or personal artefacts from the fatal incident—provide concrete evidence of the trauma that occurred. While the majority of individuals interned in cemeteries are long dead, roadside memorials mark relatively contemporary deaths, some so recent that there may still be tyre marks, debris and bloodstains marking the scene. In 2008, when I was regularly travelling this roadway, I documented, and researched, the six then extant memorial sites that marked the locations of ten fatalities from 1999 to 2006. (These were all still in place in mid-2014.) The fatal incidents are very diverse. While half involved trucks and/or road trains, at least three were single vehicle incidents, and the deceased ranged from 13 to 84 years of age. Excell argues that scholarship on roadside memorials should focus on “addressing the diversity of the material culture” (‘Contemporary Deathscapes’) and, in these terms, the Leichhardt Highway memorials vary from simple crosses to complex installations. All include crosses (mostly, but not exclusively, white), and almost all are inscribed with the name and birth/death dates of the deceased. Most include flowers or other plants (sometimes fresh but more often plastic), but sometimes also a range of relics from the crash and/or personal artefacts. These are, thus, unsettling sights, not least in the striking contrast they provide with the highway and surrounding road reserve. The specific location is a key component of their ability to re-sensitise viewers to the dangers of the route they are travelling. The first memorial travelling northwards, for instance, is situated at the very point at which the highway begins, some 18 kilometres from Goondiwindi. Two small white crosses decorated with plastic flowers are set poignantly close together. The inscriptions can also function as a means of mobilising connection with these dead strangers—a way of building Secomb’s “haunted community”, whereby community in the post-colonial age can only be built once past “murderous death” (131) is acknowledged. This memorial is inscribed with “Cec Hann 06 / A Good Bloke / A Good hoarseman [sic]” and “Pat Hann / A Good Woman” to tragically commemorate the deaths of an 84-year-old man and his 79-year-old wife from South Australia who died in the early afternoon of 5 June 2006 when their Ford Falcon, towing a caravan, pulled onto the highway and was hit by a prime mover pulling two trailers (Queensland Police, ‘Double Fatality’; Jones, and McColl). Further north along the highway are two memorials marking the most inexplicable of road deaths: the single vehicle fatality (Connolly, Cullen, and McTigue). Darren Ammenhauser, aged 29, is remembered with a single white cross with flowers and plaque attached to a post, inscribed hopefully, “Darren Ammenhauser 1971-2000 At Rest.” Further again, at Billa Billa Creek, a beautifully crafted metal cross attached to a fence is inscribed with the text, “Kenneth J. Forrester / RIP Jack / 21.10.25 – 27.4.05” marking the death of the 79-year-old driver whose vehicle veered off the highway to collide with a culvert on the creek. It was reported that the vehicle rolled over several times before coming to rest on its wheels and that Forrester was dead when the police arrived (Queensland Police, ‘Fatal Traffic Incident’). More complex memorials recollect both single and multiple deaths. One, set on both sides of the road, maps the physical trajectory of the fatal smash. This memorial comprises white crosses on both sides of road, attached to a tree on one side, and a number of ancillary sites including damaged tyres with crosses placed inside them on both sides of the road. Simple inscriptions relay the inability of such words to express real grief: “Gary (Gazza) Stevens / Sadly missed” and “Gary (Gazza) Stevens / Sadly missed / Forever in our hearts.” The oldest and most complex memorial on the route, commemorating the death of four individuals on 18 June 1999, is also situated on both sides of the road, marking the collision of two vehicles travelling in opposite directions. One memorial to a 62-year-old man comprises a cross with flowers, personal and automotive relics, and a plaque set inside a wooden fence and simply inscribed “John Henry Keenan / 23-11-1936–18-06-1999”. The second memorial contains three white crosses set side-by-side, together with flowers and relics, and reveals that members of three generations of the same family died at this location: “Raymond Campbell ‘Butch’ / 26-3-67–18-6-99” (32 years of age), “Lorraine Margaret Campbell ‘Lloydie’ / 29-11-46–18-6-99” (53 years), and “Raymond Jon Campbell RJ / 28-1-86–18-6-99” (13 years). The final memorial on this stretch of highway is dedicated to Jason John Zupp of Toowoomba who died two weeks before Christmas 2005. This consists of a white cross, decorated with flowers and inscribed: “Jason John Zupp / Loved & missed by all”—a phrase echoed in his newspaper obituary. The police media statement noted that, “at 11.24pm a prime mover carrying four empty trailers [stacked two high] has rolled on the Leichhardt Highway 17km north of Taroom” (Queensland Police, ‘Fatal Truck Accident’). The roadside memorial was placed alongside a ditch on a straight stretch of road where the body was found. The coroner’s report adds the following chilling information: “Mr Zupp was thrown out of the cabin and his body was found near the cabin. There is no evidence whatsoever that he had applied the brakes or in any way tried to prevent the crash … Jason was not wearing his seatbelt” (Cornack 5, 6). Cornack also remarked the truck was over length, the brakes had not been properly adjusted, and the trip that Zupp had undertaken could not been lawfully completed according to fatigue management regulations then in place (8). Although poignant and highly visible due to these memorials, these deaths form a small part of Australia’s road toll, and underscore our ambivalent relationship with the automobile, where road death is accepted as a necessary side-effect of the freedom of movement the technology offers (Ladd). These memorials thus animate highways as Gothic landscapes due to the “multifaceted” (Haider 56) nature of the fear, terror and horror their acknowledgement can bring. Since 1981, there have been, for instance, between some 1,600 and 3,300 road deaths each year in Australia and, while there is evidence of a long term downward trend, the number of deaths per annum has not changed markedly since 1991 (DITRDLG 1, 2), and has risen in some years since then. The U.S.A. marked its millionth road death in 1951 (Ladd) along the way to over 3,000,000 during the 20th century (Advocates). These deaths are far reaching, with U.K. research suggesting that each death there leaves an average of 6 people significantly affected, and that there are some 10 to 20 per cent of mourners who experience more complicated grief and longer term negative affects during this difficult time (‘Pathways Through Grief’). As the placing of roadside memorials has become a common occurrence the world over (Klaassens, Groote, and Vanclay; Grider; Cohen), these are now considered, in MacConville’s opinion, not only “an appropriate, but also an expected response to tragedy”. Hockey and Draper have explored the therapeutic value of the maintenance of “‘continuing bonds’ between the living and the dead” (3). This is, however, only one explanation for the reasons that individuals erect roadside memorials with research suggesting roadside memorials perform two main purposes in their linking of the past with the present—as not only sites of grieving and remembrance, but also of warning (Hartig, and Dunn; Everett; Excell, Roadside Memorials; MacConville). Clark adds that by “localis[ing] and personalis[ing] the road dead,” roadside memorials raise the profile of road trauma by connecting the emotionless statistics of road death directly to individual tragedy. They, thus, transform the highway into not only into a site of past horror, but one in which pain and terror could still happen, and happen at any moment. Despite their increasing commonality and their recognition as cultural artefacts, these memorials thus occupy “an uncomfortable place” both in terms of public policy and for some individuals (Lowe). While in some states of the U.S.A. and in Ireland the erection of such memorials is facilitated by local authorities as components of road safety campaigns, in the U.K. there appears to be “a growing official opposition to the erection of memorials” (MacConville). Criticism has focused on the dangers (of distraction and obstruction) these structures pose to passing traffic and pedestrians, while others protest their erection on aesthetic grounds and even claim memorials can lower property values (Everett). While many ascertain a sense of hope and purpose in the physical act of creating such shrines (see, for instance, Grider; Davies), they form an uncanny presence along the highway and can provide dangerous psychological territory for the viewer (Brien). Alongside the townships, tourist sites, motels, and petrol stations vying to attract customers, they stain the roadway with the unmistakable sign that a violent death has happened—bringing death, and the dead, to the fore as a component of these journeys, and destabilising prominent cultural narratives of technological progress and safety (Richter, Barach, Ben-Michael, and Berman).Conclusion This investigation has followed Goddu who proposes that a Gothic text “registers its culture’s contradictions” (3) and, in profiling these memorials as “intimately connected to the culture that produces them” (Goddu 3) has proposed memorials as Gothic artefacts that can both disturb and reveal. Roadside memorials are, indeed, so loaded with emotional content that their close contemplation can be traumatising (Brien), yet they are inescapable while navigating the roadway. Part of their power resides in their ability to re-animate those persons killed in these violent in the minds of those viewing these memorials. In this way, these individuals are reincarnated as ghostly presences along the highway, forming channels via which the traveller can not only make human contact with the dead, but also come to recognise and ponder their own sense of mortality. While roadside memorials are thus like civic war memorials in bringing untimely death to the forefront of public view, roadside memorials provide a much more raw expression of the chaotic, anarchic and traumatic moment that separates the world of the living from that of the dead. While traditional memorials—such as those dedicated by, and to, Leichhardt—moreover, pay homage to the vitality of the lives of those they commemorate, roadside memorials not only acknowledge the alarming circumstances of unexpected death but also stand testament to the power of the paradox of the incontrovertibility of sudden death versus our lack of ability to postpone it. In this way, further research into these and other examples of Gothic memorialising practice has much to offer various areas of cultural study in Australia.ReferencesAdams, Brian. Sidney Nolan: Such Is Life. Hawthorn, Vic.: Hutchinson, 1987. Advocates for Highway and Auto Safety. “Motor Vehicle Traffic Fatalities & Fatality Rate: 1899-2003.” 2004. Becker, Ernest. The Denial of Death. New York: Simon & Schuster, 1973. Bisceglio, Paul. “How Social Media Is Changing the Way We Approach Death.” The Atlantic 20 Aug. 2013. Botting, Fred. Gothic: The New Critical Idiom. 2nd edition. Abingdon, UK: Routledge, 2014. Brien, Donna Lee. “Looking at Death with Writers’ Eyes: Developing Protocols for Utilising Roadside Memorials in Creative Writing Classes.” Roadside Memorials. Ed. Jennifer Clark. Armidale, NSW: EMU Press, 2006. 208–216. Campbell, Elaine. “Public Sphere as Assemblage: The Cultural Politics of Roadside Memorialization.” The British Journal of Sociology 64.3 (2013): 526–547. Cicero, Marcus Tullius. The Orations of Marcus Tullius Cicero. 43 BC. Trans. C. D. Yonge. London: George Bell & Sons, 1903. Clark, Jennifer. “But Statistics Don’t Ride Skateboards, They Don’t Have Nicknames Like ‘Champ’: Personalising the Road Dead with Roadside Memorials.” 7th International Conference on the Social Context of Death, Dying and Disposal. Bath, UK: University of Bath, 2005. Cohen, Erik. “Roadside Memorials in Northeastern Thailand.” OMEGA: Journal of Death and Dying 66.4 (2012–13): 343–363. Connolly, John F., Anne Cullen, and Orfhlaith McTigue. “Single Road Traffic Deaths: Accident or Suicide?” Crisis: The Journal of Crisis Intervention and Suicide Prevention 16.2 (1995): 85–89. Cornack [Coroner]. Transcript of Proceedings. In The Matter of an Inquest into the Cause and Circumstances Surrounding the Death of Jason John Zupp. Towoomba, Qld.: Coroners Court. 12 Oct. 2007. Davies, Douglas. “Locating Hope: The Dynamics of Memorial Sites.” 6th International Conference on the Social Context of Death, Dying and Disposal. York, UK: University of York, 2002. Department of Infrastructure, Transport, Regional Development and Local Government [DITRDLG]. Road Deaths Australia: 2007 Statistical Summary. Canberra: Commonwealth of Australia, 2008. Duwe, Grant. “Body-count Journalism: The Presentation of Mass Murder in the News Media.” Homicide Studies 4 (2000): 364–399. Elder, Bruce. Blood on the Wattle: Massacres and Maltreatment of Aboriginal Australians since 1788. Sydney: New Holland, 1998. Erdos, Renee. “Leichhardt, Friedrich Wilhelm Ludwig (1813-1848).” Australian Dictionary of Biography Online Edition. Melbourne: Melbourne UP, 1967. Everett, Holly. Roadside Crosses in Contemporary Memorial Culture. Austin: Texas UP, 2002. Excell, Gerri. “Roadside Memorials in the UK.” Unpublished MA thesis. Reading: University of Reading, 2004. ———. “Contemporary Deathscapes: A Comparative Analysis of the Material Culture of Roadside Memorials in the US, Australia and the UK.” 7th International Conference on the Social Context of Death, Dying and Disposal. Bath, UK: University of Bath, 2005. Goddu, Teresa A. Gothic America: Narrative, History, and Nation. New York: Columbia UP, 2007. Gorer, Geoffrey. “The Pornography of Death.” Encounter V.4 (1955): 49–52. Grider, Sylvia. “Spontaneous Shrines: A Modern Response to Tragedy and Disaster.” New Directions in Folklore (5 Oct. 2001). Haider, Amna. “War Trauma and Gothic Landscapes of Dispossession and Dislocation in Pat Barker’s Regeneration Trilogy.” Gothic Studies 14.2 (2012): 55–73. Hall, Stephen S. Merchants of Immortality: Chasing the Dream of Human Life Extension. Boston: Houghton, Mifflin, Harcourt, 2003. Hartig, Kate V., and Kevin M. Dunn. “Roadside Memorials: Interpreting New Deathscapes in Newcastle, New South Wales.” Australian Geographical Studies 36 (1998): 5–20. Hockey, Jenny, and Janet Draper. “Beyond the Womb and the Tomb: Identity, (Dis)embodiment and the Life Course.” Body & Society 11.2 (2005): 41–57. Online version: 1–25. Jones, Ian, and Kaye McColl. (2006) “Highway Tragedy.” Goondiwindi Argus 9 Jun. 2006. Kiernan, Stephen P. “The Transformation of Death in America.” Final Acts: Death, Dying, and the Choices We Make. Eds. Nan Bauer-Maglin, and Donna Perry. Rutgers University: Rutgers UP, 2010. 163–182. Klaassens, M., P.D. Groote, and F.M. Vanclay. “Expressions of Private Mourning in Public Space: The Evolving Structure of Spontaneous and Permanent Roadside Memorials in the Netherlands.” Death Studies 37.2 (2013): 145–171. Ladd, Brian. Autophobia: Love and Hate in the Automotive Age. Chicago: U of Chicago P, 2008. Leichhardt, Ludwig. Journal of an Overland Expedition of Australia from Moreton Bay to Port Essington, A Distance of Upwards of 3000 Miles during the Years 1844–1845. London, T & W Boone, 1847. Facsimile ed. Sydney: Macarthur Press, n.d. Lowe, Tim. “Roadside Memorials in South Eastern Australia.” 7th International Conference on the Social Context of Death, Dying and Disposal. Bath, UK: University of Bath, 2005. MacConville, Una. “Roadside Memorials.” Bath, UK: Centre for Death & Society, Department of Social and Policy Sciences, University of Bath, 2007. Macintyre, Stuart. “The Making of the Australian Working Class: An Historiographical Survey.” Historical Studies 18.71 (1978): 233–253. Mollinson, James, and Nicholas Bonham. Tucker. South Melbourne: Macmillan Company of Australia, and Australian National Gallery, 1982. Morell, Virginia. “Mournful Creatures.” Lapham’s Quarterly 6.4 (2013): 200–208. Nelson, Victoria. Gothicka: Vampire Heroes, Human Gods, and the New Supernatural. Harvard University: Harvard UP, 2012. “Pathways through Grief.” 1st National Conference on Bereavement in a Healthcare Setting. Dundee, 1–2 Sep. 2008. Piatti-Farnell, Lorna. “Words from the Culinary Crypt: Reading the Recipe as a Haunted/Haunting Text.” M/C Journal 16.3 (2013). Queensland Police. “Fatal Traffic Incident, Goondiwindi [Media Advisory].” 27 Apr. 2005. ———. “Fatal Truck Accident, Taroom.” Media release. 11 Dec. 2005. ———. “Double Fatality, Goondiwindi.” Media release. 5 Jun. 2006. Richter, E. D., P. Barach, E. Ben-Michael, and T. Berman. “Death and Injury from Motor Vehicle Crashes: A Public Health Failure, Not an Achievement.” Injury Prevention 7 (2001): 176–178. Secomb, Linnell. “Haunted Community.” The Politics of Community. Ed. Michael Strysick. Aurora, Co: Davies Group, 2002. 131–150. Spooner, Catherine. Contemporary Gothic. London: Reaktion, 2006.

Drylands occupy about one-third of the world's land surface area and rivers in these regions have less predictable flow regimes than those in humid tropical and temperate regions. Australia's dryland river-floodplain systems cycle through recurrent periods of floods and droughts, oflen resulting in extreme hydrological variability. As a result, these systems have been described as having a 'boom and boost' ecology with periods of high productivity associated with flooding. Not surprisingly, flow and its variability have been recognised as major driving forces in the ecological functioning of Australian rivers and responses to flow variability from fish and aquatic invertebrates have been reasonably well described. Furthermore, the reduced amount of water reaching floodplain waterbodies due to river regulation has been held responsible for successional changes in aquatic biota and, consequently, the resources available for both fish and invertebrates. However, information regarding the impacts of water resource development has generally focused on within-channel processes of Australian rivers, not on floodplains, which are arguably more affected by water development. The following dissertation is concerned with how different types of natural and modified floodplain lagoons are able to trophically support their fish communities in the floodplain of the Macintyre River, Border Rivers catchment (QLD/NSW), a regulated dryland river. This study focuses on the influence of flooding and the implications of an extended dry period, and different levels of flow regulation, on the feeding ecology of selected fish species (Ambassis agassizil, Lelopotherapon unicolor and Nematalosa erebi) between 2001 and 2003. Food resources consumed by fish are hypothesised to vary in response to flooding, when inundation of isolated lagoons and vast floodplain areas can result in a burst of primary and secondary productivity. Given the permanently elevated water levels of some regulated floodplain lagoons, fish diets are hypothesised to be less variable in these floodplain habitats in comparison to diets of fish from floodplain lagoons with natural flow and water regime. Feeding ecology is examined firstly, in terms of diet composition of selected fish species, using stomach content analysis, and secondly, in relation to possible energy sources sustaining fish (using stable isotope analysis) in selected floodplain lagoons and a site in the main channel of the Macintyre River. The information produced should allow managers to take variations in food resources, food web structure and dietary ecology into account in management regimes for refugia and dryland systems in general. Factors such as diel and ontogenetic variations in dietary composition and food intake by fish are shown to considerably affect ovemll dietary patterns of each study species. Therefore, it is important to understand the contributions of such factors to the variability of fish dietary patterns before performing studies on resource use by fish in floodplain habitats of the Macintyre River. Major food categories consumed by the study species were zooplankton, aquatic invertebrates and detrital material. Zooplankton was of particular importance as this food item was ingested by all three study species at some stage of their life history. Spatial and temporal variation in diet composition of the study species was mostly associated with changes in prey items available across floodplain habitats and between seasons (summer/winter). The low magnitude of flooding events during the study period is arguably the most likely factor influencing the lack of patterns of variation in fish diets in floodplain habitats subject to flooding, whereas in non-flooded lagoons the observed dietary variation was a consequence of successional changes in composition of the aquatic fauna as the dry season progressed. Water regime had an important effect on differences in fish diet composition across lagoons, but further evaluation of the influence of flooding is needed due to overall lack of major flooding events during the study period. Autochthonous resources, namely plankton, were the basis of the food web and phytoplankton in the seston is the most likely ultimate energy source for fish consumers, via planktonic suspension feeders (zooplankton). Nevertheless, organic mailer could not be disregarded as an important energy source for invertebrates and higher consumers. In general, the present study does not provide support for the major models predicting the ftinctioning of large rivers, such as the River Continuum Concept and Flood Pulse Concept, which argue that allochthonous organic matter either from upstream or from the floodplain are the most important sources of carbon supporting higher consumers. In contrast, the Riverine Productivity Model would be more appropriate to describe the food web and energy sources for consumers in the Macintyre River floodplain as this model suggests that local productivity, based on autochthonous phytoplankton and organic matter, ftiels food webs in large rivers. The results of this study suggest that factors known to affect phytoplankton production in floodplain lagoons (e.g. flow regulation, turbidity and nutrient/herbicide inputs) must be seriously considered in current landscape and water management practices.

Drylands occupy about one-third of the world's land surface area and rivers in these regions have less predictable flow regimes than those in humid tropical and temperate regions. Australia's dryland river-floodplain systems cycle through recurrent periods of floods and droughts, oflen resulting in extreme hydrological variability. As a result, these systems have been described as having a 'boom and boost' ecology with periods of high productivity associated with flooding. Not surprisingly, flow and its variability have been recognised as major driving forces in the ecological functioning of Australian rivers and responses to flow variability from fish and aquatic invertebrates have been reasonably well described. Furthermore, the reduced amount of water reaching floodplain waterbodies due to river regulation has been held responsible for successional changes in aquatic biota and, consequently, the resources available for both fish and invertebrates. However, information regarding the impacts of water resource development has generally focused on within-channel processes of Australian rivers, not on floodplains, which are arguably more affected by water development. The following dissertation is concerned with how different types of natural and modified floodplain lagoons are able to trophically support their fish communities in the floodplain of the Macintyre River, Border Rivers catchment (QLD/NSW), a regulated dryland river. This study focuses on the influence of flooding and the implications of an extended dry period, and different levels of flow regulation, on the feeding ecology of selected fish species (Ambassis agassizil, Lelopotherapon unicolor and Nematalosa erebi) between 2001 and 2003. Food resources consumed by fish are hypothesised to vary in response to flooding, when inundation of isolated lagoons and vast floodplain areas can result in a burst of primary and secondary productivity. Given the permanently elevated water levels of some regulated floodplain lagoons, fish diets are hypothesised to be less variable in these floodplain habitats in comparison to diets of fish from floodplain lagoons with natural flow and water regime. Feeding ecology is examined firstly, in terms of diet composition of selected fish species, using stomach content analysis, and secondly, in relation to possible energy sources sustaining fish (using stable isotope analysis) in selected floodplain lagoons and a site in the main channel of the Macintyre River. The information produced should allow managers to take variations in food resources, food web structure and dietary ecology into account in management regimes for refugia and dryland systems in general. Factors such as diel and ontogenetic variations in dietary composition and food intake by fish are shown to considerably affect ovemll dietary patterns of each study species. Therefore, it is important to understand the contributions of such factors to the variability of fish dietary patterns before performing studies on resource use by fish in floodplain habitats of the Macintyre River. Major food categories consumed by the study species were zooplankton, aquatic invertebrates and detrital material. Zooplankton was of particular importance as this food item was ingested by all three study species at some stage of their life history. Spatial and temporal variation in diet composition of the study species was mostly associated with changes in prey items available across floodplain habitats and between seasons (summer/winter). The low magnitude of flooding events during the study period is arguably the most likely factor influencing the lack of patterns of variation in fish diets in floodplain habitats subject to flooding, whereas in non-flooded lagoons the observed dietary variation was a consequence of successional changes in composition of the aquatic fauna as the dry season progressed. Water regime had an important effect on differences in fish diet composition across lagoons, but further evaluation of the influence of flooding is needed due to overall lack of major flooding events during the study period. Autochthonous resources, namely plankton, were the basis of the food web and phytoplankton in the seston is the most likely ultimate energy source for fish consumers, via planktonic suspension feeders (zooplankton). Nevertheless, organic mailer could not be disregarded as an important energy source for invertebrates and higher consumers. In general, the present study does not provide support for the major models predicting the ftinctioning of large rivers, such as the River Continuum Concept and Flood Pulse Concept, which argue that allochthonous organic matter either from upstream or from the floodplain are the most important sources of carbon supporting higher consumers. In contrast, the Riverine Productivity Model would be more appropriate to describe the food web and energy sources for consumers in the Macintyre River floodplain as this model suggests that local productivity, based on autochthonous phytoplankton and organic matter, ftiels food webs in large rivers. The results of this study suggest that factors known to affect phytoplankton production in floodplain lagoons (e.g. flow regulation, turbidity and nutrient/herbicide inputs) must be seriously considered in current landscape and water management practices.
Thesis (PhD Doctorate)
Doctor of Philosophy (PhD)
School of Australian Environmental Studies
Full Text

Riverine landscapes are complex. More than just a single channel, they comprise a shifting mosaic of hydrogeomorphic patches with varying physical and biological characteristics. These patches are connected by water during flows of varying magnitude and frequency, at a range of spatial and temporal scales. Combined, landscape complexity and hydrological connectivity create biological diversity that in turn maintains the productivity, ecological function, and resilience of these systems. This thesis investigates the ecological importance of spatial heterogeneity and temporal hydrological connectivity in a dryland floodplain river landscape. It focuses on anabranch channels, and uses major carbon sources in these and adjacent landscape patches as indicators of ecological pattern and process. A conceptual model was proposed, describing the potential effects upon the distribution and availability of major carbon sources of: a) a spatial mosaic of hydrogeomorphic patches in the landscape (e.g. anabranches, river channel, and wider floodplain); and b) four primary temporal phases of hydrological connection during flow pulses (disconnection, partial connection, complete connection, and draining). This was then tested by data collected over a three year period from a 16 km reach of the lower Macintyre River (NSW/QLD Australia). Results were examined at multiple spatial scales (patch scale � river channel vs. anabranches vs. floodplain; between individual anabranches; and within anabranches � entry, middle and exit sites). The data indicate that spatial heterogeneity in the lower Macintyre River landscape significantly influences ecological pattern. Carbon quantity was greater in anabranch channels compared to adjacent river channel patches, but not compared to the floodplain; while carbon quality was greater in anabranch channels compared to both adjacent river channel and floodplain patches. Stable isotope analysis indicated that carbon sources that were predominantly found in anabranch channels supported both anabranch and river organisms during a winter disconnection phase. Other carbon sources found in the main river channel and the wider floodplain appeared to play a comparatively minimal role in the food web. Different phases of hydrological connection between anabranch channels and the main river channel were associated with differences in the availability of carbon sources. In the river channel, draining of water from anabranches (the draining phase) was associated with relatively high concentrations of dissolved organic carbon (DOC) and low concentrations of phytoplankton. Conversely, the disconnection phase was associated with relatively low concentrations of DOC and high concentrations of phytoplankton in the river channel. In anabranch channels and their waterbodies, the disconnection and draining phases were associated with high concentrations of both DOC and phytoplankton. Concentrations of these carbon sources were lowest in anabranches during the partial and complete connection phases. Different hydrological connection phases were also associated with changes in trophic status in the aquatic components of the landscape. On the riverbanks, relatively low rates of benthic production and respiration during the complete connection phase were associated with heterotrophy. The remaining phases appeared to be autotrophic. Benthic production on riverbanks was greatest during the disconnection phase, and respiration was greatest during the partial connection phase. In the anabranch channels, rates of production and respiration were similar during the disconnection phase, and were associated with heterotrophy in the anabranch waterbodies. The remaining phases appeared to be autotrophic. Respiration was greatest in anabranches during the disconnection phase, and production was greatest during the draining phase. Both production and respiration were lowest during complete connection. These differences and changes varied according to the landscape patch examined. At a landscape scale, anabranch channels act as both sinks and suppliers of carbon. High rates of sediment deposition facilitate their role as sinks for sediment-associated carbon and other particulate, refractory carbon sources. Simultaneously, anabranch channels supply aquatic carbon sources from their waterbodies, as well as via processes such as inundation-stimulated release of DOC from surface sediments. Modelled data indicated that water resource development reduces the frequency and duration of connection between anabranch channels and the main river channel. This loss of landscape complexity via loss of connectivity with anabranches has the potential to reduce the total availability of carbon sources to the ecosystem, as demonstrated by a modelled 13% reduction in potential dissolved organic carbon release from anabranch sediments. This thesis has demonstrated the importance of spatial heterogeneity in riverine landscapes, by documenting its association with variability in the distribution and quality of primary energy sources for the ecosystem. It has shown that this variability is augmented by different phases of hydrological connectivity over time. Spatial heterogeneity and hydrological connectivity interact to increase the diversity and availability of ecological energy sources across the riverine landscape, at multiple spatial and temporal scales. This has positive implications for the resilience and sustainability of the system. Anabranch channels are particularly important facilitators of these effects in this dryland floodplain river system. Anabranch channels are �intermediate� in terms of spatial placement, temporal hydrological connection, and availability of carbon sources; of high value in terms of high-quality carbon sources; and relatively easy to target for management because of their defined commence-to-flow levels. Further research should be directed toward evaluating other ecological roles of anabranch channels in dryland rivers, thereby providing a more complete understanding of the importance of connectivity between these features and other patches. This knowledge would assist management of floodplain river landscapes at larger regional scales, including amelioration of the effects of water resource development.