SACRED RITUALS OF AN ABORIGINAL ELDER

One of David’s fondest memories is of an Aboriginal tribe in Australia’s Northern Territory in 1963. He befriended an artist and tribal elder named Magani. As the young broadcaster won the old man’s trust, he learned some of the tribe’s sacred legends.

‘Magani talked pidgin English, which I picked up,’ he says. ‘I sat with him in his “humpy” or hut, to chew the fat and smoke. We both spoke enough pidgin to make ourselves understood.’

He realised Magani was making secret preparations for a tribal ceremony. The old man was carving a didgeridoo from a log, and the ancient musical instrument represented one of their gods. No outsiders were allowed to see the didgeridoo, or watch the ceremony which marked the beginning of manhood for some of the clan’s boys. In particular, no women were permitted to witness it.

However, Magani liked the young Englishman and invited him to see what he was doing – but David obviously wanted to film it. Remembering the scene, David slips into pidgin English. ‘Eventually I had to say, “Magani, me want take um fillum, merry he lookem.” Merry was the word for women. I was telling him that women would see the film.

‘He said, “Where is merry?” and I said, “Well, long way long saltwater.” That is, on the other side of the sea. Magani asked, “Merry no come here?” I promised they would not come, but they would be able to see the pictures, across the sea. At last he said, “OK, he no come ere, . Because of this, the series Quest Under Capricorn can’t be screened in Australia. Magani is long dead, but it is a pledge David insists must be honoured. ‘I wouldn’t betray him for all the world.’

And the broadcaster still speaks pidgin fluently. It’s simple to pick up, David says. ‘He no trouble!’

Magani working on a bark painting