Ben McArthur

NORM Drew did not come as a farmer, but to everyone else, it sure seemed like he had.

He looked like one, sounded like one and even listened like one.

Something about his sun-scorched face suggested he had endured last year’s ruthless weather patterns with significant loss. He had the same hard self-sufficiency of a calf rearer or the cattle musterer, a peculiar dignity of an old man who had seen it all.

Coming from Cowwarr, Norm entered the Newry Hall, an old brick and wooden building built for a single purpose: to host events like these.

Farming, flooding and a perceived unfair society had gathered a small band of farmers, corporate advisors and government officials to the hall last Thursday, February 15.

It was 2024’s first meeting between Agriculture Victoria and local farmers.

Norm entered the room and walked past 11 of these people, who were standing half inside, half outside, making the room seem emptier than it really was.

The conversations he passed comprised of small talk.

“Have you been to Mirboo North? It looks like a tornado went through there,” one woman said.

“Yeah, I’ve heard there’s no power, so some businesses are chucking out bread and meat,” was the reply.

Norm found a corner. He stayed for a little bit, standing as a towering figure amid the sea of dress shirts and RB Sellars. He had calloused hands, a Vikings beard, a full head of grey hair and a strong frame covered by a casual blue flannel shirt. Indeed, this was the only flannel shirt in the room, an odd thing considering this consultation event was aimed at farmers.

Norm moved around the room with purpose, meeting many new faces. He spoke in a gravelly tone, and his words made the same sound as a sharpened scythe cutting through wheat; however, like it was written before, Norm did not come as a farmer, and he made that abundantly clear in his introductions, which was always the same.

“Hello, my name’s Norm Drew and I’m the flood warden coordinator for the Thomson-Rainbow Creek. I thought I’d come and see what’s said and what’s been going on.”

When Norm said these words, a strange thing happened: his face underwent a significant change. A wide smile was drawn, the same one that’s fit for a charismatic salesman, and his body contorted to make up for the height difference as he reached out his hand.

Norm spoke to former tea plantation manager Del Delpitiya, a Sri Lankan who came to Australia 15 years ago with his wife, Thaan, and children.

Del once told a tiny news outlet (whose small size is made up for in patriotism) the story of how he came to be in this country.

Apparently, after having children, there was a realisation that the family would have to split up. Del staying as a manager at the plantation and Thaan moving to a city.

Here he found work at a dairy farm, prompting this flag-waving outlet to call him the only Sri Lankan dairy farmer in Australia, an improbable claim made when the country had more than 100,000 Sri Lankans.

Del didn’t mind.

He said back then that one of his ambitions was to own a dairy farm in Australia, but this seemingly didn’t happen. Instead, joining Agriculture Victoria in 2018 as the regional manager.

After Del, Norm continued his rounds, meeting Food and Fibre Chief Executive and La Trobe University graduate, Ben Gerbert for the first time.

Ben was the second tallest in the room, and he grew up near Horsham. And he was indeed a farmer. His father, grandfather and all the other family going back five generations were indeed farmers. Ben was wearing a dress shirt, but much like Norm he was the only one in the room wearing an Akubra, a strange thing considering where he was.

Norm and Ben were speaking about the region’s rich history of flood wardens, the same story Norm would recall to the man from Melbourne.

“I inherited this job when John O’Brien passed away, an’ he was doing this for about 25 years,” Norm said.

“He ran the system back when Lake Glenmaggie had to hold as much water as possible. But now legislation says they must mitigate; release the water which is where we come in. The flood wardens will warn the property owners about the impending flood.”

“The system evolved from something called the ‘phone tree’ when a Southern Rural Water employee would ring someone, and they would ring a neighbour, and it kept going, much like the branches of a tree. But it was a basic system before mobile phones, and we’ve moved on from that…”

That was the last conversation before staff announced the event’s beginnings. Farmers settled into their seats, corporate representatives took out notepads and event staff started cooking a barbecue.

The year’s first meeting between Agriculture Victoria representatives and East Gippsland farmers was about to begin, and it brought people from all the obscure corners of Gippsland’s countryside, yet only three people spoke.

The first to speak was Newry farmer and New South Wales native Kate Mirams, located on the McAllister Irrigation System, then Bree Whittaker of the Whittaker family, who owns one of the largest farming operations in Gippsland.

They each told a story on the impacts of the October and December floods. The pair spoke about the short time between flood warnings and impact major flood levels not being acknowledged had and the difficulties locating flood locations on a public map.

Norm, the lone flood warden was next, and perhaps to quieten the low murmurs, began by smacking the notepad between his knees. The whispers were replaced by a collective focus. All eyes were on Norm, who would speak for the next 14 minutes.

He began with a personal anecdote.

“When I was four, I rode my trike down Thomson-Rainbow (creek) and hopped off my trike onto the footpath with my slippers on. And boy, did I get into trouble for getting my slippers wet.”

For six minutes, Norm clarified a flood warden’s duties and difficulties, adding it was impossible to know how farmers want to be informed.

He then took aim at an unknown Southern Rural Water employee who has since left the company.

“Southern Rural Water once appointed an Emergency Management and Resilience Officer, and I do not like being abused by inexperienced people because four of my flood wardens and their families have been on the Thomson system for 150 years,” he said. “Now he is no longer at Southern Rural Water, and Southern Rural Water is very quiet about that man. But this is the type of thing we have been battling.”

When it was Southern Rural Water representatives turn to speak, they did so in response to Kate, who asked questions about creating a readily available public map.

The Southern Rural Water representative talked about the company’s ongoing challenges, initiatives, and programs but didn’t commit to a firm timeline. However, the representative told Kate that work was happening.

Then Del thanked everyone for participating and informing future state decisions.

The year’s first meeting between Agriculture Victoria representatives and East Gippsland farmers had concluded. The next one will be held in Orbost this Friday, February 23.