Flying over the Arnhem Land escarpment into Maningrida I looked down on the wide stone country with its brown snaking rivers far below. My main knowledge of the area had come from reading books and studying maps. I knew, for instance, that there was a diverse range of ecological zones extending from the Arafura Sea inland. I knew that there were an equally diverse number of Aboriginal language groups living in this intensely acculturated landscape, nine or so in the Maningrida area alone. And I knew that the country had been divided up on maps at the NT Department of Mines and Energy into mineral exploration licence areas, and that over a third of West Arnhem Land had already been allocated to transnational mining corporations, most of which were looking for uranium.

This was a highly politicised landscape I was descending into. My assignment for Delirra was to report on a controversy surrounding the location and activities of a ranger station at Djinkarr, about 20 km south of Maningrida near the Tomkinson River.

Djinkarr is a place of special significance to the people of the Gurrgoni language group, for ceremony, for hunting, and for the dreaming connected with it. In early 1997 a ranger station was built in the area by the Bawinanga Aboriginal Corporation, an Aboriginal-owned organisation based in Maningrida which provides services for 27 communities and outstations. The 10-year Djinkarr project lease was officially signed by Bawinanga in October 1997 and endorsed by the Northern Land Council and the Arnhem Land Aboriginal Land Trust, the latter two organisations supposedly acting in accordance with the wishes of the traditional owners of the lease area.

The Djinkarr ranger station has become the centre for the Djelk rangers, local Aboriginal men who have since 1990 carried out wildlife surveys and other land management activities, including the eradication of the invasive weed mimosa pigra. There are currently 20 rangers employed under the government funded CDEP scheme. The idea behind the project, according to the ranger Co-ordinator, Ray Hall, is to help keep the country in a relatively pristine state, and at the same time earn an income for local Aboriginal people from the sustainable use of the area's natural resources.

Some of the activities of the rangers have been undertaken in conjunction with the Environmental Research Institute of the Supervising Scientist, the Northern Land Council's Caring for Country Unit and NTU through FATSIS, CINCRM and the Centre for Tropical Wildlife Management. FATSIS, for example, runs a land management course for the rangers and regularly uses the facilities at Djinkarr. There is also a tourist safari fishing camp, a crocodile egg harvesting enterprise, a nursery, an airstrip, an education and research facility, and guest accommodation facilities. Other potential economic opportunities currently being investigated include enterprises based on crocodile skins, trepang, the billygoat plum, herbal medicines, and the long-necked turtle.

The 1997 agreement stipulated that if the conditions of the lease were observed then Bawinanga could 'quietly enjoy the land without interruption or disturbance'. However, all is not quiet in this part of West Arnhem Land, as I found out when I touched down in Maningrida on this 'media excursion' (or so said my permit).

On 6 May I attended a meeting of around 15 Djinkarr traditional owners under the shade of a grove of mango trees in what was my first taste of Arnhem Land community politics. There are four clan groups recognised as traditional owners of Djinkarr under the Aboriginal Land Rights (NT) Act 1976 - Bobererri, Warkwark, Andirridjalaba and Aniyirriburala (as spelt in the lease agreement) - although representatives of the latter clan did not attend the meeting. There were also three other balanda (non-Aboriginals) present to support the traditional owners in their dispute with Bawinanga over the lease agreement.

One flashpoint of contention has been over the role of Dean Yibarbuk from the Andirridjalaba clan, the senior Djelk ranger and one of the main forces behind the Djinkarr project. Until recently he was a member of the Bawinanga executive and had signed the Djinkarr lease agreement in 1997 on behalf of the corporation. He arrived at the meeting and immediately objected to any balanda being present. A brief scuffle ensued, though in the end it was no more serious than a bit of argy-bargy on the footy field. This was followed by a shouting match in both English and local languages between the traditional owners at the meeting (and other members of the Maningrida community) and Dean Yibarbuk which lasted for almost an hour.

Then the referees turned up, in the form of two balanda men from the Northern Land Council (NLC), one of whom kept clutching hold of the lease agreement for the remaining two hours of the meeting for what seemed like dear life. The NLC representatives, Ian White and Gary Richardson, had arrived at the meeting under the impression that it was for the first annual review of the lease agreement, and attempted to get each disputed provision discussed point by point. By the time the meeting disbanded, however, the traditional owners in attendance, other than Dean Yibarbuk, had made it clear that they were extremely unhappy about the current location of the Djinkarr project, and hence the lease in its entirety.

Jeffrey Numungara from the Warkwark clan firmly stated his intention to tear up the piece of paper and remove the fishing camp and associated infrastructure from the part of Djinkarr he had responsibility over. He also said he would put up a gate in order to protect his land: 'You're destroying my country. That's why I'm angry. You don't protect my sacred sites. You just go ahead. Bust it open... I don't need any more of that lease agreement from now on…I don't need money. I don't like money, motorcar or boat or whatever you mob have got for us. I want my land back. That's the future for my children'. Jeffrey Numungara, a health worker for the last 13 years, says that one of the sacred sites on his land was destroyed when gravel was being extracted to construct the airstrip.

A rather different perspective in support of the project at Djinkarr was put forward at the meeting by Otto Campion, a Djelk ranger from the Rembarrgna language group: 'You mob don't understand the background about the project. You're still sitting under the shade doing nothing. How you going to make money if you have no project? How you going to manage your land, help keep out the balanda miners who'll poison your rivers, help keep out feral animals? You mob blind. Not thinking long term. Its all jealous business'.

The NLC and Bawinanga say that the lease was verbally agreed to by the four clans at a meeting in April 1997, although some of the traditional owners respond that they had understood at the time that the ranger station would be built at Nangak, which is actually the site of the Bobererri clan's outstation to the east of Djinkarr. Months after the ranger station had been built the NT News (7/10/97) was reporting the location as Nangak.

Moreover, Jeffrey Numungara from Warkwark is adamant he said 'No' at the time. He recalls having a major argument with his brothers and sisters, some of whom, including his elder brother, gave their initial consent to the agreement. One of the NLC representatives recalled that Jeffrey Numungara came back to the 1997 meeting after the argument and then also agreed 'when the money was talked about'. Jeffrey Numungara denies this and also says that his brothers and sisters are now of the same mind as him. All want the lease agreement to be 'chucked away in the bin'.

The dissenting traditional owners seem to have held the belief back in 1997 that their formal signature was required on the lease. As one person said at the recent meeting on May 6: 'Legal way is to sign papers and say yes on paper. Not talk with mouth'. But under the Land Rights Act a verbal agreement is considered sufficient so long as the traditional owners consent as a group.

Nevertheless, one of the terms of the agreement has clearly not been fulfilled properly. There was a requirement for a liaison committee to be set up comprised of members of the four clans. Bawinanga CEO David Bond acknowledges this lapse and said that the liaison committee had been initially established but was not followed through with. He also said that as soon as Jeffrey Numungara complained about the disruption to his sacred site work was stopped and that Bawinanga is willing to pay compensation. The Maningrida Council had taken gravel from the area without complaint for 15 years, he said, although Bawinanga did extend the area of extraction.

It should also be pointed out that the ranger station was completed months before the NLC and the Land Trust formally endorsed the lease agreement in late 1997. Whether this is the usual procedure adopted under the Land Rights Act remains unclear, but there is corresponding evidence from a government agency source that uranium exploration activity is occurring on parts of West Arnhem Land where exploration licences are still in a state of negotiation with traditional owners.

There is also contention over the level and distribution of royalty and rent monies. The Bobererri say they have received less than $150 over the past two years and that they have been waiting for decent housing and a telephone for their outstation at Nangak for many years. They complain that there is still only one house at Nangak yet they have been promised seven. Bawinanga CEO David Bond responded to this allegation by saying that Bawinanga has to provide housing for 27 communities and is still mostly reliant on limited government funding. He added that Bobererri are on the list to receive two houses this year.

Many of the traditional owners also claim that they have not been consulted sufficiently about subsequent changes to the Djinkarr project, and are particularly opposed to the proposed harvesting of adult saltwater crocodiles. A crocodile-based enterprise had not been specifically mentioned in the 1997 lease agreement, despite Bawinanga and the Djelk rangers having already successfully hatched crocodiles from wild eggs in a local incubator the previous year. In 1998 17 adult saltwater crocodiles were captured and killed in a trial harvest, with a view to increasing the number caught annually to 100. Crocodiles will be harpooned or trapped, then killed with an electronic device or by shooting them with a .22 rifle. The skins will then be sold to the highest bidder in local and overseas markets.

The operators see the enterprise as a way for Aboriginal people to make some money from their land without endangering the crocodile population. According to the NT Parks and Wildlife Commission, numbers of saltwater crocodiles are akin to levels at the beginning of this century, up from 5000 when hunting was banned in 1971 to about 70000 (NT News 9/3/99). Since 1985 crocodiles have had their protected status under the international CITES agreement downgraded to allow for sustainable harvest and export. Consequently, there are a number of harvesting projects being established in places across the Top End, such as in nearby Ramingining.