Hell came to Lismore in early 2022, when a wall of water surged through the northern New South Wales town and consumed everything before it. Lives and homes and businesses were obliterated as weeks of wild weather caused flood waters to reach an incredible 15 metres.
With official rescue efforts consumed by chaos, survivors were left stranded on rooftops for days as the nightmare worsened. Brave villagers risked their lives to rescue neighbours and strangers as the whole world fell apart around them.
When the water finally subsided, the horror of their new reality set in. Thousands were left homeless. Piles of furniture lay rotting in the summer sun. The town square was transformed into a makeshift rescue shelter, looking like something out of a war zone. Crooked souls wandered aimlessly through the sludge, searching solemnly for the shattered shards of their lives.
Lismore, a proud village that had stood for almost two centuries, was destroyed. And Dirrawuhn, the enormous goanna who watches over the town from beside the regional art gallery, was left heartbroken.
Dirrawuhn in a Million
Dirrawuhn’s story flows back 50,000 years, to the age of the Dreamtime. Enormous creatures roamed the wild lands of Australia, creating the rivers and mountains and valleys. Goannas were seen as guardians of the area that would one day be known as Lismore, and were revered by the native Bundjalung people.
In 2009, Lismore Council decided to honour this history by installing a goanna statue of epic proportions in the centre of town – years before their counterparts in Taree had the same idea. Local artist Keith Cameron took to the task with gusto, creating the 300kg mesh marvel in his Tabulam backyard.
When Dirrawuhn was completed, Keith waited patiently for someone from the Council to pick up him up. And waited. And waited. The leviathan lay in Keith’s yard for five long years, staring out at the rolling hills and swaying gum trees. Despite splashing out $17,000, the giant goanna just sort of slipped through the cracks.
“It still lives here at South Tabulam, paid for by the Lismore ratepayers,” Keith told a bemused reporter from the ABC at the time. “They obviously own it, I don’t. I’ve never had any communication, other than a few words by Lismore City Council, they’ve never asked me to store it, look after it, or do anything.
“I guess I’d like it to be placed in a position where it’s enjoyed by Bundjalung people and others, and to be used for what it was originally intended.”
When brave Dirrawuhn finally took his rightful spot in the centre of town, a new age of prosperity and happiness ensconced Lismore. And then nature, cruelly, took it all away.
You’re the Dirrawuhn That I Want
Lismore was a mess of mud and mayhem when I rolled in, mere days after the water subsided. The area around Dirrawuhn was smeared with slime, a single hanging from his eye. The stench of rotting carpet was overwhelming. Mutilated mattresses and trashed tables lined the streets, and an eerie silence blanketed the town.
Despite spending time completely submerged in the muck, the lengthy lizard had been spared the worst of the carnage. He still stands regally in a small park, although during my visit he was covered in muck and looking beaten down by the weight of expectation.
Keith’s craftsmanship is awe-inspiring. He really captured the ferocity of this Australian icon, whilst creating an artwork that fits in with the working-class nature of Lismore. Dirrawuhn is approachable and always up for a photo, although his enclosure was taped off when I arrived.
But there’s something else to Dirrawuhn now; a sadness, a coldness, hardness. He’s witnessed loss and heartbreak. Seen those he watches over at their lowest points. Observed the ferocity of the land he loves so much. These things change a reptile.
Beneath his steel facade, however, is a gleaming sense of pride and wonder. For Dirrawuhn also bore witness to feats of extreme bravery and selflessness, as those he has sworn to protect came together to save the town.
Lismore will never be the town it was before damnation swept through, but the people will rebuild it. And right there watching them, inspiring them, will be the indomitable Dirrawuhn the Big Goanna.
