Latest news with #pioneers
The National
28-05-2025
- General
- The National
Emirati chess grandmaster Rouda Alserkal
Rouda Essa Alserkal is the UAE's first woman grandmaster and aims to clinch the main Grandmaster title soon
ABC News
21-05-2025
- General
- ABC News
WA jarrah axemen led back-breaking life as native forest logging peaked
The grim, back-breaking work of Western Australia's pioneering logging families should not be forgotten, according to historians, who say their contribution to the construction, railway and shipbuilding industries was vital. Under often treacherous conditions, loggers climbed and then felled giant jarrah trees, which were prized for their hardy timber. The trees, which can grow to 40 meters high and live for 1,000 years, became known as "Swan River mahogany" to European colonisers in the 1800s, however the species is known as djarraly in the Noongar language. It is almost 18 months since native timber logging was banned in the state, bringing an end to 200 years of forest harvesting. But historian Don Briggs said the stories of the early workers and their families should not be forgotten just because logging in native forests has been banned. During its peak, logging in the only area of Australia where jarrah grows naturally — the south west of WA — saw axemen working under terrible conditions. The pay, particularly for southern European migrants, was so low there were reports of some severing their own fingers for workers' compensation and income. This grizzly chapter of WA's history has been archived with interviews and records. But not all woodsmen were treated harshly. One such logger, Norman Smith, travelled west from Victoria at the turn of the 20th century to earn his way in WA's burgeoning native timber industry. In an archival interview recorded in 1971 and provided to the ABC, Mr Smith, who is now deceased, recalled his life as an axeman when the pay was clearly more agreeable. He said he was paid in gold pieces, known as sovereigns. "We considered we weren't doing much good unless we made 50 pounds a month," Mr Smith said. Fifty pounds from the early 1900s equates to about $10,000 today. Historian Mr Briggs has spent years researching and writing the history of the South West's native timber industry. "It goes right back to the 1830s, when the first ships arrived. One of the ships was Captain James Stirling's boat, the HMS Success," he said. The HMS Success crashed into Carnac Island, but the crew managed to throw enough weight overboard to float the ship to Garden Island, where it was repaired. "The timber used was called Swan River mahogany, which later became known as jarrah," Mr Briggs said. When the HMS Success returned to England with no sign of marine borer damage in the jarrah repairs, WA's timber export industry boomed as demand for jarrah wood soared. Jarrah wasn't just prized by shipbuilders — it was also used in the construction of railway networks throughout Western Australia, thanks to its natural resistance to termites. Initially, railway sleepers, especially in the Great Southern region, were made from timber harvested in the karri forests near Torbay, about 20 kilometres west of Albany. Mr Briggs said once the construction workers realised that the karri wood was often riddled with white ants, they set their sights on harvesting the jarrah forests. In the early 1900s, thousands of men made their way to jarrah country to work on the railways. While men, including Mr Smith, toiled on the forest floor, where they cut railway sleepers by hand, others risked life and limb climbing the giant trees to make fire-lookout towers, such as the iconic Gloucester Tree at Pemberton, 320km south of Perth. Mr Smith said the men would ascend the trees on precarious spikes driven into the wood. "They drove one in, say up three feet, and then the other one would be up a couple of feet … and they kept driving these spikes in and they climbed up them," he said. But it was risky work, and not everyone was keen to climb 40 metres up a tree trunk. Waves of European migrants eventually flocked to WA's southern forests for work from the 1920s to the 1970s. Christina Gillgren has detailed migrants' stories in the book Growing Roots — the Italians and Croatians in the Development of the Western Australian Timber Industry. "These early settlers came and did a lot of the clearing of the land, especially on private property," Dr Gillgren said. Dr Gillgren, who has a doctorate in philosophy from Murdoch University, said casual migrant workers in the native timber industry went to great lengths to maintain their income. "Especially when they didn't get paid, they would resort to very extreme acts to get some income. Sometimes they would cut off fingers and toes," she said. Dr Gillgren said a severed finger or toe would be enough for a workers' compensation claim from the timber mills. "It was very grim," she said. Life for the workers' spouses and children was also unforgiving, according to Dr Gillgren. One example was the life of an Australian woman called Elsie, who married a Croatian hewer. "She ended up having 13 children. "Her husband would come home and tell her they had to shift camp. "She'd have to pack everything up — she'd probably only just finished washing the nappies."
The Guardian
14-05-2025
- Sport
- The Guardian
State of Origin success shows women's rugby league deserves to stand tall on its own
In 1921, two women, Molly Cane and Nellie Doherty, put up their hands and asked to play rugby league. They weren't asking for glory, they certainly weren't chasing social clout. What they wanted was the chance to play a game they loved. That match, held at the Sydney Showground, drew a crowd of 30,000 more than 100 years ago. Two weeks ago, Game One of the 2025 Women's State of Origin series drew more than two million viewers. This love of women's rugby league is not a new phenomenon. The interest, passion and talent has always been there, and it is because of Molly and Nellie that women's rugby league is where it is today. These two women weren't just players, they were pioneers with vision, passion and serious guts. A century ago, when they took to the field, it was bold, brave and proved there was a genuine desire for women's rugby league. But their momentum was short-lived. Officials shut it down, and it would be another 78 years before we saw the birth of the Women's Interstate Challenge. Still, Molly and Nellie lit a spark that never went out. It kept glowing quietly in local parks and backyard games, carried closely by generations of girls who kept playing and dreaming big. As a former player, and someone who loves the game of rugby league I have observed in every generation players who are breaking the 'grass ceiling' and championing for change. We owe a lot to Nellie, Molly and every woman since who has picked up a ball and played, even when no one was watching. Everything we have today – the stadium crowds, the broadcast figures, the young girls proudly pulling on jerseys with their signs – is built on these women challenging the norm and their choice to pick up a rugby league ball. When I was growing up in Gerringong, on the NSW south coast, I played junior rugby league with my brother. I was often the only girl on the field, and for a while, that was fine, until I turned 12 and the rules said I couldn't play anymore. Back then, the system didn't see girls as part of the game's future. Like so many others, I turned to netball and basketball, not because I wanted to, but because rugby league didn't yet have space for me. That's what makes this current moment in women's rugby league so powerful. Today, girls don't have to give up the game, they can play as they are, all the way through. They can dream of wearing the sky blue or maroon jersey, not as a novelty, but as a real, attainable future. Less than a decade ago, Women's State of Origin players were getting changed in car parks, staying in caravan parks, eating meals cooked by our team managers on a community barbecue. Now, they're playing in front of packed stadiums and pulling millions of viewers. That's incredible progress. Yet Women in rugby league still juggle full-time work, study and family, alongside elite-level performance. Imagine the heights they will reach when women can be full-time athletes. Sign up to Australia Sport Get a daily roundup of the latest sports news, features and comment from our Australian sports desk after newsletter promotion To me, equality in rugby league means equal opportunity. It means sponsorships, broadcast deals, pathways, and media that not just reflects the skill and popularity of the women's game, but also that desire to build up a sport that started more than 100 years ago. The fans' role has never been more important. When they buy a ticket, tune in, or sign up as a member, they're not just showing up, they're helping to make history. Every cheer, every social post, every conversation – it all adds weight to a game that deserves to stand tall on its own. The young girls playing today on grassroots fields belong there. They don't need to fight for their place, they already have one. The women before them played for the love of the game, and everything they did was to ensure the young girls today could play with pride, confidence and visibility. Women's rugby league is exploding, and it's here to stay. I'm thrilled to be a part of it but it's up to all of us to continue striving to make this the greatest game of all.
