Remembering the past in Albany

With the smell of salt in the air and the ferocious wind whipping my hair, I stand on the viewing platform that's cantilevered over the ocean. Under my feet, the rough waves are swirling, throwing up both surf and spray and crashing against the rocks. It's a 25-metre drop below. I am at the Gap, a rugged granite channel carved by the waves of the Great Southern Ocean beating against the southern coastline of Western Australia, near Albany, 400 km from Perth.
Albany was the first European settlement in Western Australia in 1826. The town is bound by the Southern Ocean, the Stirling ranges and has a rugged coastline dotted with pristine white sand beaches. It's a windy town with the local wind called the 'Albany doctor' that blows in towards the afternoon. History echoes down the streets of the town, with stories of whalers and convicts. Today, the city - known for its sense of community and laidback vibe - is lined with Gold Rush buildings on Stirling Terrace, from the harbour to York Street, like the Old Post office with its turrets and clock tower.
"It was the gold mining boom that led to many buildings here being built, from the London Hotel to the courthouse," explains Maryanne Marsh of the Busy Blue Bus, a mini tour bus which is driving us down the coast. The town was the gateway to the Eastern Gold fields and was a deep water port.
Albany is also a pilgrimage for those interested in Anzac history, for it was from this coast that soldiers of Australia and New Zealand headed in convoys to World War I. It was the last piece of motherland that many of the soldiers would see. "It was wildflower season and many had flowers in their hats or in their hands," says Maryanne.
My home away from home is the Beach house at Bayside - luxurious apartments run by Sally and Craig Pullin who excel at their homely hospitality with chocolates in rooms, and large breakfasts in the morning. The land surrounding the town is a productive region of fresh produce and farmer's markets. We spend a morning at Oranje Tractors, an organic farm where I embark on a food foraging tour with the owner Murray. We pick up small wicker baskets and walk through the garden. Herbs, trees and vegetable patches surround us with small honeyeaters flying overhead. We pluck ripe avocadoes off trees, slice them and eat them with luscious cherry tomatoes; we smell fragrant lemon rabina and kaffir lime, and bite into fresh figs and juicy cape gooseberries. There are indigenous trees growing overhead, like macadamias, and a fruit orchard with 40 varieties of apples.
Drive out of Albany in any direction and the rugged coast is its best draw-card. Miles of white sand beaches, boulders covered with orange lichen and native bush framing the sand. Albany's main beach is Middleton Beach, a long sweep of sand four kilometers from the centre of the city, lined by Norfolk pines. From late May to October, this is one of the best places to see migrating humpback and southern right whales. This is also the land of the giant Karri forests with some of the tallest trees in the world, like Californian Redwoods. High up on the cliffs are wind turbines harnessing wind energy to power half of Albany's needs.
We drive down to the Torndirrup National Park outside town with a collection of cliffs, promontories and beaches, where the Gap and Natural Bridge, two natural, gneiss and granite formations on the coast, are reached by a winding pathway from the road. Native rosemary and clumps of banksias frame my path, and the cold wind whips my face as I walk to the Gap. They say that this part of Western Australia was once connected directly to Antarctica, when Australia was a part of the supercontinent. The Natural Bridge, a deep chasm in a cliff caused by the gradual wearing away of the rock by the ocean, is reached by a stainless steel walkway from the Gap.
To get an insight into Albany's place in Anzac history, we head to the modern Anzac Centre perched high on Mount Clarence above King George Sound, from where more than 50 ships set sail for the battlefields, built to coincide with the centenary of the movement of the troops out of Albany. It's a sensitively curated and interactive museum, built around the soldiers who left the country from here. A video clip of the troops marching plays at the entrance to the museum, which has been voted the Number One Museum of Australia. "It's a mix of a memorial and a museum," explains our guide. Every visitor is handed a card that corresponds to a real soldier or nurse who fought in the battle from here and follows that personal journey through the museum. There are 32 such characters drawn from real life.
By walking through the centre, and tapping the card on an interpretation screen, I follow the life of Brig. General Harold Pompey Elliot from recruitment, training to the battlefront and discharge. There are excerpts from letters written by soldiers, exhibits from gas masks to helmets and bayonets. There are pictures of them in their trenches, in combat. Most touching is the Pool of Reflections, a long bench-like pool of water with a digital scroll submerged in water. This has the names of 41,265 men and horses that left Albany in the first and second convoys to the conflict in Gallipoli, Middle East and the Western Front. About one-third of them perished in the war, others came back suffering from trauma or illness, and some took their own lives. "War takes its toll, even when it's over," says one sign.
I walk past old military buildings and equipment to the Convoy Lookout with a description of the ships that sailed out of King George Sound and a view of the surrounding beaches where the troops gathered before they sailed out. I imagine the horses and convoys and the people bidding goodbye to their loved ones.
As the sun sets and darkness descends, we head to the Field of Light: Avenue of Honour lined with gum trees, where a blaze of lights cherishes the lives lost in the war. Our guide walks us through the avenue of trees with plaques of fallen soldiers, lit by clusters of 16,000 softly glowing glass globes with LED lights and acrylic stems, squiggles of optic fibres that look like abstract art against the dark skies. The lights change colour from gold to luminous green to white, inspired by Albany's biodiversity and representing New Zealand's national flower kowhai and the Australian wattle.
Lined up to 350 metres on either side of the road, this dazzling light installation is the work of talented British light artist Bruce Munro. "Many young people appreciate history and the past better with this reflective installation and we have had many visitors," says our guide. Many of these light clusters resemble soldiers and their commanders standing in battle formation. The audio guide that I am using talks about the importance of peace and reconciliation. There's just the sound of the wind through the trees and the glowing lights. It's a poignant moment as I muse on the many realities of war.
wknd@khaleejtimes.com