The Misadventures of Billy, a Boomerang and a Woomera

SPIRIT OF AUSTRALIA

3/9/20243 min read

In the remote outback community of Wirrinjup, a small but vibrant town tucked away in the far northeast of Western Australia, tradition thrives amidst the red dirt and spinifex grass. Here, the Aboriginal culture is not just practiced; it's a way of life, with each family passing down skills that have been honed over thousands of years. But every now and then, someone like Billy Wandjina comes along, challenging the norms not by choice, but by sheer ineptitude.

Happy smiling Australian Aboriginal children running and playing in bush
Happy smiling Australian Aboriginal children running and playing in bush

Billy, the youngest son of the respected Wandjina family, was a peculiar figure in Wirrinjup. Known for his boundless enthusiasm but questionable coordination, Billy faced his rite of passage with a mix of excitement and dread. His father, Murrungkurr, a master hunter renowned for his prowess with the woomera and boomerang, had high hopes for him, while his mother, Baliny, known for her intricate bark paintings, prayed silently for his success.

The first test involved the boomerang, an implement Billy had managed to avoid until now. His older brother, Jindalee, who could track a snake through the desert by moonlight, had tried to teach him, but to no avail. Billy's attempts at throwing the boomerang were more a danger to himself and bystanders than a display of skill. Each throw would end with the boomerang spiralling wildly in unpredictable directions, much to the amusement, and sometimes horror, of onlookers.

Then there was the woomera, a spear-throwing device that required precision and strength. Billy's first attempt had been so disastrous it became the stuff of local legend. The spear had somehow ended up behind him, pinning his unfortunate hat to the ground – a hat that had seen better days and now sported more patches than original fabric.

Among Billy's peculiar circle was Tarni, his childhood friend and confidante, who possessed the uncanny ability to communicate with birds. Tarni, despite her gentle teasing, was always there to lend a hand or, when necessary, retrieve errant boomerangs and spears.

And then there was Old Man Yirra, the community's storyteller and unofficial 'troubleshooter,' who claimed his left eye could see the past and his right eye the future. Yirra took a particular interest in Billy's plight, often muttering that the boy's spirit animal must be the kangaroo, for he spent more time bouncing back from failures than moving forward.

The climax of Billy's tale came during the annual Wirrinjup Cultural Festival, where he was to demonstrate his skills in front of the entire community and visitors from afar. With a deep breath, Billy took his position, armed with his boomerang and a woomera. The silence was palpable as he eyed his targets.

What followed could only be described as a performance that would be talked about for generations. The boomerang, thrown with all the hope in the world, decided it preferred the company of a bewildered emu, leading both on a merry chase through the spectators. Meanwhile, the spear launched from Billy's woomera with surprising accuracy, only to be intercepted by a gust of wind, veering off course and spectacularly knocking down a display of traditional art.

In the aftermath, amidst the laughter and chaos, something remarkable happened. The community, seeing Billy's unwavering determination and good-natured acceptance of his failures, celebrated him. They realised that while not everyone could be a master of traditional tools, it was the effort and the willingness to participate that truly mattered.

Old Man Yirra, wiping tears of laughter from his eyes, declared that Billy had indeed passed his rite of passage, not through skill, but by demonstrating the strength of character and bringing the community together in joy and hilarity.

From that day on, Billy Wandjina was known not as the master of the boomerang or woomera, but as the heart of Wirrinjup, a reminder that sometimes, it's our imperfections that make us most beloved. And as for the boomerang that never came back? Well, it found a new home with the emu, who, much to everyone's surprise, seemed rather fond of it.

Aboriginal art
Aboriginal art