Tasmanian Plants

A single field trip up toward the Central Highlands offers plenty for a plant lover to see and do. One thing that must be done however, is to pay homage to the cider gums (Eucalyptus gunnii) of the highland areas.

This cider gum is a tree of immense significance to Tasmania’s natural history. It is aptly named the cider gum for it’s sap, which has been reported to be used by the aborigines to make a much relished fermented drink (see article). I  was way too late to experience the spring sap that allegedly drips from the tree inviting all to partake of it’s sweetness. What would I give to try that out! It would be one of the most direct means of communion with the cider gum. On this occasion however, my objective was merely to make an acquaintance with the Cider Gum in it’s natural abode.

I drove along the Highland Lakes road north of Miena hoping to catch sight of some cider gums. There are two known subspecies, both of which are endemic to Tasmania. The more common one, E. gunnii subsp. gunnii (simply referred to as the cider gum) is well distributed throughout the highland regions of the southeast, central, and western Tasmania. The other subspecies, E. gunnii subsp. divaricata is known as the Miena Cider Gum, and has a much more restricted distribution to a small area around Miena around the Central Highland lakes. It’s status as a subspecies of the commoner cider gum was only recently elucidated in a publication by Prof. Brad Potts, Dr Wendy Potts and Dr Gintaras Kantvilas in 2001. Previously, the Miena Cider Gum was known as Eucalyptus divaricata.

I practically screeched to a halt when I sighted just by the side of the road, two large and stately trees which I suspected might be the Miena Cider Gum.

I got out and scanned the surrounds. There were quite a number of dead trees in the vicinity but these two trees were different. They exuded a vibe of vitality. I studied them intently, looking out for characters that might give me an opportunity for identification.

A low hanging branch gave me access to photograph a cluster of their leaves and their capsules. The adult leaves also had a slightly pale whitish (glaucous) appearance and there was the persistence of very glaucous, rounded and oppositely arranged juvenile leaves.

Prof Pott’s paper had mentioned that the capsules of the Miena Cider Gum also tend to be more glaucous. The capsules are supposedly a slightly more sub-urned shaped compared to the more consistently bell shaped capsules of the commoner subspecies.

The combination of characters of the Miena Cider Gum seemed to match the specimen I was looking and I am happy to conclude that that was what my specimen was.

More important than the dry an technical act of nailing an subspecific identity to the tree however, was the feeling of communion. Few experiences compare to an acquaintance with trees of such haunting magnificence and presence. There is no words for it, only feelings that linger. Silence would probably make the best conveyance of this.

Tasmania’s floral emblem, the Blue Gum (Eucalytus globulus), is a tree of many talents.

It has one of the largest blossoms among eucalypts.

It is among some of the world’s tallest flowering trees.

It is the major source of eucalypt oil and an important source of pulpwood.

I could list much more but that would be best elaborated in a post on it’s own. Suffice it to say for now that the Blue Gum is a Tasmanian icon, a view shared by Prof. Brad Potts during a public lecture on the 12 Nov 2009 celebrating 100 years of Biology in UTAS. During the lecture, Prof. Potts expounding on the cultural, ecological, economic and scientific significance of the tree.

But while the science and verbal transmission of the Blue Gum’s natural history will appeal to our intellect, and the Blue Gum’s large showy blossoms to our visual senses, there must be more that this world renown tree has to offer.

And indeed, few avenues offer as visceral an experience as the modality of taste in enabling an appreciation the Blue Gum’s contribution to Tasmanian culture.

There is little one may eat of the Blue Gum though.

It is possible to make a tea from the leaves of the Blue Gum but my plans to do that was quickly superseded when I saw a jar of miellerie unheated Blue Gum honey sitting at Meredith’s Orchard Fruit and Vegetable market at Margate, South East Tasmania.

Like the Prickly Box honey I’ve written about in a previous post, the Blue Gum honey was raw and unprocessed. It was however, a little more creamy in texture and had less of an aromatic fragrance.

The honey smelled somewhat like the very mildly foetid scent of fresh eucalypt blossoms. The subtle flavor of the honey does not immediately hit one’s tongue. I spread a teaspoonful of the creamy substance on my tongue and proceeded to lather it on my palate. Doing that allowed me to experience the full taste of the honey. The words that come to mind are ‘cool’ and ‘mildly minty’. The light pleasant flavour is sure to be pleasing to some.

While it might still be a while before Blue Gum honey comes close to achieving the kind of fame Leatherwood honey enjoys, Blue Gum honey is a must try for anyone wishing to imbibe in Tasmania’s botanical produce. Then one might proudly say:

I have not only seen the floral emblem of Tasmania…I’ve tasted it!

Honey must really be one of the highlights of the gastronomical adventures of a botanist!

To me, tasting a plant, or a product derived from it is another way of knowing a plant. A kind of communion.

For years I have admired the faithful blossoms of the Christmas Mintbush (sometimes simply called Christmas bush) (Prostanthera lasianthos var. lasianthos). These blossoms are without question one of the greatest attention grabbers of the wet eucalypt forest in summer. Up close, an reddish ‘heart’ pattern is evident in the throat of the corolla.

Even in it’s non-flowering seasons, the Christmas Mintbush is an attractive tree, with glossy leaves bearing toothed margins. And as may be expected of members of the mint family (Laminaceae), the Christmas Mintbush gives off the characteristic and pleasant minty smell when the leaves are crushed.

But it was only this year that I got to partake of the Christmas Mintbush’s true virtue – I bought a small 160g jar of Christmas Mintbush honey.

There is little point trying to describe the subtle nuances of taste, though I try (See post on Prickly Box Honey).

Christmas Mintbush honey. Heavenly sweet, of course. I could perhaps add that there was no minty over or undertones, which was not a bad feature. A pure flavour of floral fragrance.

Sublime?

Unquestionably.

Left to my partner and I, the small jar stood no chance of lasting the day. Winnie the Pooh would have been put to shame.

Currently at the Tasmanian Museum and Art Gallery, there is a display of baskets woven by aboriginal women, some dating from the 1840′s (See new article here).

The exhibition is called Tayenebe, which means ‘exchange’ in the language of the south eastern Nueonne people of Bruny Island, and reflects the centuries of different cross and intercultural interactions based on the making and collecting of Tasmanian Aboriginal fibre work.

While the impetus for the tayenebe project has been the desire to reconnect with the cultural craft of ancestors, it also opens a window into Tasmanian ethnobotany (the study of plants as it relates to ethnic cultures).

Basket weaving is an ubiquitous theme in ethnic cultures worldwide. Baskets, woven by fibre-plants available as part of the natural vegetation, were held in high regard by aboriginal women and served very practical uses like holding shellfish, eggs and other foodstuffs.

That is where the ethnobotany comes into the picture.

The Tasmanian aborigines used a large number of very common sedge and sedge-like plants in their basket weaving. Examples of these are usually members of the Flag irises (Diplarrena spp.), Flax lilies (Dianella spp.), Sagg (Lomandra longifolia) and sedges of the genus Lepidosperma, a large genus of plants commonly known as swordsedges.

I noted from perusing the exhibition and the publication Tayenebe: Tasmanian Aboriginal women’s fibre work accompanying the exhibition an incomplete list of the plants used by the Tasmanian aborigines for basket weaving. This I have produced below and will update as I find more references.

IRIDACEAE (Iris family)
Diplarrena moraea (White Flag-iris)
Diplarrena latifolia (Western Flag-iris)

Lomandra longifolia (Sagg)

CYPERACEAE (Sedge Family)
Gahnia grandis (Cutting Grass)
Lepidosperma concavum (Sand Swordsedge)
Lepidosperma ensiforme (Arching Swordsedge)
Lepidosperma gladiatum (Coast Swordsedge)
Schoeoplectus pungens (Sharp Clubsedge)

HEMEROCALLIDACEAE (Hemerocallis Family)
Dianella revoluta (Spreading Flaxlily)
Dianella tasmanica (Forest Flaxlily)

JUNCACEAE (Rush Family)
Juncus pallidus (Pale Rush)

LOMANDRACEAE (Lomandra Family)
Lomandra longifolia (Sagg)

Lepidosperma gladiatum (Coast Swordsedge)

MALVACEAE (Mallow Family)
Asterotrichion discolor (Tasmanian Currajong)
Gynatrix pulchella (Fragrant Hempbush)

MYRTACEAE (Eucalypt Family)
Eucalyptus obliqua (Stringybark)

THYMELAEACEAE (Riceflower Family)
Pimelea linifolia (Slender Riceflower)
Pimelea nivea (Bushmans Bootlace)

TYPHACEAE (Cumbungi or Cattail Family)
Typha domingensis (Slender Cumbungi)
Typha orientalis (Broadleaf Cumbungi)

In addition to sedges and sedge-like plants, the aborigines also utilized fibres from some flowering shrubs and trees as well. The common name of Pimelea nivea, Bushmans Bootlace, alludes to the fibrous nature of the bark of the shrub.

Some of the exhibits in the Tasmanian museum were made in modern times and were further adorned by shells and vines of other plants like Golden Dodder (Cuscuta tasmanica.

Did the aboriginal women of times past adorn their fibre work likewise?

Perhaps it doesn’t matter. I imagine that life, with each passing generation, will bring adornments and improvements to this ancient craft, as long as there are those who keep the knowledge alive.