Bushtracks article
14 October 2024
A safe spark
Cultural burning in south-west Western Australia reconnects people to Noongar Country – and to each other.
Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander people should be aware that this site may contain images, voices and names of people who have passed away.
taytitikithika (Dry’s Bluff) towers above terraced nursery planters in the Liffey Valley, palawa Country, Tasmania. Underneath the trestles of plants, Wombats and Bennett’s Wallabies munch on grass and any left-behind cuttings; they are the nursery’s highly efficient lawn mowers. In between each terrace, birds, lizards and frogs emerge from bush embankments; their job is pest and insect control.
“Time is a fickle thing for the human mind,” says nursery owner Herbert Staubmann. “When you look at human occupation and history in Tasmania and compare it to the over 30 million-year history of the South Esk Pine, humanity becomes a really young thing, doesn’t it?” he muses.
Herbert, with his wife Sally, have spent the past 35 years growing native Tasmanian plants at Habitat Plants, which is located down the road from our Liffey Valley reserves. This experience has helped to expand their concept of time, which hums to a different beat – one in tune with nature itself.
In Sally and Herbert’s care are two species, which we're helping them to protect: the Tasmanian Bertya (Bertya tasmanica subsp. tasmanica) and the South Esk Pine (Callitris oblonga subsp. oblonga).
“When we get an opportunity to grow plants that are endangered, restricted in distribution, or involved in a conservation project, looking after these plants becomes a main priority,” says Herbert.
Little is known about the ecology of the rosemary-like Bertya. Since colonisation began, land clearing, weed invasion, inappropriate fire regimes and, potentially, the impacts of climate change have significantly reduced its distribution. Now, it is thought to occupy less than one hectare in total and is at stochastic risk of extinction, meaning its population is so small that a single event, such as an intense bushfire or a shift in circumstance could be catastrophic. This risk is intensified by our lack of knowledge about the species and the difficulty found in bolstering new populations.
“It’s really hard to propagate. Before the work with Bush Heritage, I’d tried growing the plant a few times over the years and never had much luck,” says Herbert. But since September 2022, he has been working on a long-term restoration project with ecologist Nick Fitzgerald and Healthy Landscape Manager Mike Bretz, and this year, there will be an additional 100 Bertyas in the ground at South Esk Pine Reserve.
This is a small step, but as it's repeated and adapted over the coming years, it will give us the opportunity to better understand the plant and how to protect it. For Herbert, this project opens propagation doors.
“Trialling propagation from seed would be ideal. By adding more plants back into the landscape through the cutting method, we can give the plant more of a chance to establish itself, and disperse seed for collection for further propagation trials,’ he says.
Just 20km from South Esk Pine Reserve, there are approximately 50 more Bertyas growing on the edge of a subdivision and Swanwick Coastal Reserve.
“The population has had more sun exposure, and they’re quite bushy and dense compared to the Bertyas on our reserve,” says Mike.
As we build knowledge of the species, this population will provide insights and be a valuable point of comparison for the team. Already, it’s helping to guide assumptions about the Bertya’s ecology and influence our management of the plant.
“We’re not seeing much in the way of seedlings, and there’s a real lack of middle-aged plants. Potentially the mature plants aren’t as tasty, because at both sites, the older Bertyas are within wallaby and wombat reach.
So, it might be that the seedlings are more tender and delicious and are getting eaten before they’re allowed to mature,” says Mike, who has been guarding-up the recently planted seedlings at South Esk Pine Reserve to reduce grazing pressure.
Thanks to research completed in the 1980s, we have a slightly better understanding of the second species – the endangered South Esk Pine, which is also the namesake of the 6.8-hectare reserve we manage on the Apsley River.
“It regenerates after fire, and flood supports seed dispersal. However, too-frequent fire will kill off the plants, which need at least five to seven years to mature and produce seed before being burned,” says Nick.
“The Callitris oblonga is a slow but relatively easy plant to grow, which we’ve done for many years,” says Herbert. Growing this species is easier and, thanks to our recent work with the Tasmanian Government to update South Esk Pine Reserve’s covenant, managing it has also become smoother.
“Now, we’re getting stuck in and actually being able to do things in the landscape,” says Mike. This is great news for the South Esk Pines on the reserve, which currently could be mistaken for a Dr. Seuss Truffula Tree, appearing tall with spindly trunks and top hats of tufted foliage.
“They’re suffering due to lack of sunlight. It’s likely because they started growing when the vegetation was more open, and then faster-growing species have outcompeted them,” says Nick.
The South Esk Pine faces similar threats to the humble Bertya. In efforts to reduce these, Nick and Mike are restoring patches with Herbert’s seedlings, clearing flood debris, managing weed infestations, selectively thinning the canopy, and starting to complete low-intensity burns, which will hopefully encourage seed germination.
“The rest of our society seems to be so geared towards the short term. The positives with something like Bush Heritage are that the main goal is conservation, it’s long term, and the work and the learning will continue,” says Herbert.
Through future-focused restoration and research, we’re helping to give the South Esk Pine and the Tasmanian Bertya more time on nature’s clock.