The Resident Judge of Port Phillip

I read this book decades ago, when it had first been released in 1988. At the time, it was the first book I had ever read that portrayed the arrival of the First Fleet through indigenous eyes. Now in 2025 when I saw that it had been recently re-released and was available as a book-club read, I selected it. I had my misgivings though: I wasn’t really sure how my bookgroup ladies would respond and I wondered how well it would stand up some 40 years later. I needn’t have worried on either count.

Although the focus of the book is on Pemulwuy, the narrative is told largely from the perspective of Kiraban, an 18 year old man of the Awabakal people from the northern coastal region below Newcastle. He, and the other young men who were undertaking a period of exile as part of their initiation into manhood, see the ships appearing “like small clouds” on the horizon. They meet with the aliens on the shore, where they are accompanied by a Kamergal man who invites Kiraban and his friends to accompany them back to Kamay (Botany Bay). Only Kiraban decides to go, and as a stranger among the Kamergal, he becomes known as Awabakal for his place of origin, as well as Kiraban.

It is here in Sydney that he meets Bennelong and Bungaree, the two Eora men that we most often associate with the First Fleet story, and Governor Phillip, David Collins and Watkin Tench who are familiar names in the first contact stories. When Kiraban/Awabakal accompanies a small group to Broken Bay he encounters Pemulwuy:

The man at the head of the band of strangers had a powerful sense of danger about him as he moved forward in long, liquid strides. He was tall and well built, with a strange caste in his right eye.

Pemulwuy is a larger than life character. At over six feet tall, his smile can turn to wildness within seconds, and everyone is frightened of him. He speaks English very well – Willmot doesn’t explain how he came know English so well- and the soldiers are dependent on his hunting prowess to provide them with meat. When Kiraban/Awabakal’s woman Nungee is killed after being taken by two white men, Kiraban throws his lot in with Pemulwuy who has vowed to avenge her death.

Willmot depicts well the political currents flowing through both European and Australian (i.e. indigenous) groups. Among the Europeans, there is tension between the naval men and the army men, and the political climate changes with each new governor chosen alternately from either an army or naval background. The Rum Corps is corrupt and looking out only for themselves. If there is a villain in the story, it is John Macarthur who is constantly pressuring the governors to allow the settlement to spread, in order to enrich himself. The convicts are barely under control, and escaped convicts like the Irish Sean McDonough join with the small Eora group, sometimes taking up relationships with the women.

Meanwhile, amongst the Australians there are those like Bennelong who urge co-operation, and those like Pemulwuy who want to resist. There are tribal boundaries that need to be respected, and while some tribes find the invaders relatively benign, others are soon extirpated from their land. Some tribal groups are happy to have the resistance occur on other tribes’ lands, and so hold back from involvement, hoping somehow that they will escape attention. Some of the women, like Narewe who had previously been with McDonough, fight with the men.

After that first cataclysmic change of invasion, the nature of the war between Pemulwuy and the Europeans changes over time. We see governors changing their tactics and the arrival of free settlers brings a new type of warfare where Pemulwuy begins setting fire to crops, and then to the huts (often with the settlers and their families) inside. Willmot hints at the rumours that smallpox had been introduced deliberately, but is not definitive. The Eora are joined by ex-convict bushrangers, who have their own reasons for fighting. The struggle for supremacy between Pemulwuy and former convict turned Constable Barrington becomes personal.

The novel is clearly based on the sources generated by First Fleet officers and soldiers, but Willmot has invented some characters, most particularly Kiraban, and it is told as a narrative with dialogue. Over the narrative Willmot has structured his novel around the concept of Three Parts of Truth. This comes from the myth of Yanada (which means “moon” in the Sydney language of Dharug), told by an old man.

In the old man’s telling, in Yanada’s tribe there were two great hunters, Yanlaree and Gonduwuy. Yanada, a young girl just becoming a woman, fell in love with Yanlaree, but he was prohibited to her because they were cousins, and she had already been promised to Gonduwuy. The people were frightened that the two men would fight over her, and that they would starve if they lost one of their best hunters. One day the people woke up to find Yanada beating children and old men with sticks. They consulted a healer, who said that Yanada had worried so much about the competition between Yanlaree and Gonduwuy, and the prospect of pregnancy, that her body opened up and a mischievous spirit had entered her and made her mad. The healer advised that Yanada should be cast out from the ground. But the Rainbow Serpent knew that Yanada was strong and took her up to the sky, where she became the moon, growing big with child each month and give birth to a new star, but each month for a time she must return to the earth and warn young women not to make trouble among men.

From this myth and in the voice of the old man telling the story, Wilmott draws out Three Parts of Truth. The first part of truth is that which we can see easily (for example, the people said that she was mad). The second part of truth is the truth in other peoples minds- i.e. the healer’s advice about the mischievous spirit and the need for her to be sent into exile. The third part of truth is the secret truth in each person. Wilmott uses this tripartite structure as a way of organizing the text, as different characters in the book find their own secret truth.

And so at the end of the book, Pemulwuy and Kiraban learn their third truth.

Awabakal marked the ground with his finger and then said “I have watched Yanada these nights and I know what our secret truth must be.” He paused. “Over all these summers we have learned that there are many ways to win wars.”

Pemulwuy climbed down to the ground. “To win a war, Kiraban,” he said “you must make someone lose”

“It is not even war,” said Awabakal. “It is just killing people.”

“Ah, but it is war, Kiraban”

“Then, if it is war, we must lose.”

“Only if we fight, Kiraban” said Pemulwuy. Pemulway smiled and lifted his cloak about him. “Only if we fight,” he repeated.

Awabakal sat up straight. Indeed he knew Pemulwuy’s third part of truth. “And we only fight, Pemulwuy, if you fight,” he said.

Pemuluy nodded sadly.

And so, it is only a week later that Kiraban and Pemulwuy are caught in an ambush that they could have easily evaded. Pemulwuy suffered the indignity of having his head cut off and sent to England. Apparently a few years ago Prince William undertook to have it sent back to Australia, but it seems to be “lost”.

Even though this book was written in 1988, many of the themes are just as- if not more- pertinent today. The Australian War Memorial has resisted having the Frontier Wars depicted as a war, and even now it is proposed that they be incorporated into a pre-1914 display. Willmot clearly portrays this as a war, complete with tactics and battles. And the emphasis on Truth, highlighted by Victoria’s Truth-Telling Commission and the call for Truth as part of the Uluru Statement shows that Truth has been a concern for decades. This book has not dated at all.

My rating: 7/10

Read because: Rosanna Readers Bookgroup selection by me

Sourced from: Yarra Plenty Regional Library. Also read through Kobo.

I’m not a great reader of horror/thriller/ghost stories, and I probably would not have read this book were it not a bookgroup selection. I usually read in bed before I go to sleep, and I didn’t particularly look forward to reading an unsettling ghost story last thing at night- not that I believe in ghosts.

Neither did Rowan Caine, the main protagonist of the book, who took up a very-well paid nannying job in the Scottish highlands in an old, isolated mansion, renovated throughout with high-tech surveillance and appliances. When she first arrived at her new position nannying four girls, only one of whom was away at boarding school, the second-eldest, Maddie, grabbed her around the legs and hissed ‘the ghosts won’t like it’. Left in charge when the parents abruptly leave for a work conference, mysterious things keep happening. She moves from suspecting the other people in the house- the gardener and handyman Jack; the taciturn housekeeper Mrs McKenzie; even the girls themselves- to wondering if it is the house itself that is a malevolent presence. Despite its high-tech renovation where everything is controlled electronically, the house has a long-ago history of a dead child, rumoured to be murdered by her own father who poisoned her by plants in his experimental poison garden. Certainly there has been a string of nannies who have fled the house after just a few weeks or even day’s employment, leading to the owners, Sandra and Bill Elincourt, offering such a large salary and seeking an immediate start.

There are all the elements of a ghost story here: the big isolated house, the gardener and housekeeper, an attic with a hidden door, a poison garden and enigmatic, silent children. But the technology adds a new level of surveillance and wariness to the situation as Rowan feels that she is being watched constantly, and her employers able to speak to her as disembodied voices from speakers, when she doesn’t expect it.

What I liked most about the book was the use of the frame story. The book is written as a series of letters written by Rowan from jail, where she is being held after being charged with murder. She is writing to an attorney, Mr Wrexham, seeking his help as defense lawyer in her upcoming court case. The letters are short at first, but become gradually longer, and indeed you forget after a while that you are reading her letter, told solely from her perspective. There’s a twist at the end – what ghost story would not have a twist?- and the whole premise of the story shifts on its foundations. I do have some questions about the end, but it was executed very deftly and made you rethink everything else that you had deduced about the story previously.

It’s not high literature by any means, as a cheeky spin on the ghost story genre, but I found myself sitting up in the loungeroom until late at night finishing it (and not just because bookgroup was the day after next). I enjoyed it as a bit of a romp, with a frisson of fear and tension – just not just before going to sleep, that’s all.

My rating: 7.5/10

Sourced from: Yarra Plenty Regional Library Book Group Service

Read because Rosanna Readers (ex ‘Ladies Who Say Oooh’) bookgroup selection.