Dawn Naranatjil’s place name is Wirrngajingathi. Wirrngaji is a ‘wind story’ place on the south side of Bentinck Island. People from Wirrngaji used to use wind-magic to call up or silence south winds blowing across the sea from the mainland. Dawn still knows the dances and songs of this ritual. She has two totemic/conception names: Kurdalalngk (long black-tailed ray) and Bijarrb (Dugong). She was born around 1935, the daughter of Hannah (Kalnyirringathi Balibali Karwarrk), and taken over as daughter by Kelly Thunduyingathi (aka Bilinabangathi Bulthuku) (1900-1950). Phoebe, Hannah and Roma were all co-wives of Kelly and Dawn thus called them all ngamathu (mother). Dawn is sister to Roger Kelly, a senior Kaiadilt leader, and classificatory sister with Paula Paul.

When the Kaiadilt were relocated to Mornington Island in 1948, Dawn was a co-wife with Sarah Winjarrkawurungathi Buranthand (1900-1968) to Alex Naranatjil (1920-1961). She is the mother to Dorothy, Maxwell, Rodney, Robin, Harry and Alex and matriarch to three generations of Kaiadilt and Lardil grandchildren. Being in her seventies does not stop her racing down to the beach to turn giant turtles onto their backs, or heaving around great rocks to repair the old fish traps, propensities which have earned her the nickname ‘Superwoman’ from the Kaiadilt community.

A magnificent story-teller, dancer and talented actress, her uproarious sense of humour makes any occasion with her memorable. No matter if she is in a tiny dinghy, or if a wind-magic stomp needs to be performed at the place where the boat is pitching in the sea, she will do it then and there, bellowing forth the ancient words of the ritual.

Her understanding of land and seascapes and their rich and deeper religious meaning is detailed and profound. She moves through the bush with the ease and familiarity of a mother embracing her child. She knows every plant, every curve, every potential disruption and very source of fresh water, perhaps hidden metres below the surface, casually pointing out a small ball of tasty resin on a tree, a tiny hole that houses a delicious grub, or what looks like an ordinary rock in the shallow estuary water and turns out to be the deadly stone fish.

As an artist Dawn Naranatjil’s connectedness to her country comes through in a powerful and vivid form which in turn reflects her dignified and unquestioned connection to place.