If you drive across the Highland Lakes Road between St Patricks Plains and Miena you will easily observe the stark skeletal fields of the once magnificent stands of cider gums. This is a grim reminder of the effects of over-grazing and the decreasing rainfall associated through climate change. But is the future of this species as dire as predicted.
The Miena cider gum E. gunnii subsp. divaricata, has been declared an endangered species since 2003. It is included within the Environmental Protection Biodiversity Conservation Act 1999, and listed as Tasmanian Threatened Species Protection Act since late last century. It generally occurs within a 40-kilometre radius around the Great Lake region on poorly drained open woodlands at the exposed edges of treeless flats or hollows at an altitude range is 865 to 1150 m above sea level.
The gracious Tasmanian cider gum, called wayalinah by the palawa people, is held by them with great significance. The tree is renowned for its sweetness and secretions that is highly palatable for many animals, birds and nomadic people. During the summer months it is claimed that the palawa people travelled from their homelands to the high grounds of the Central Lakes region in search of food, game, and interaction with other clans.
The Luggermairrenerpairrer clan from the Great Lake area were sometimes joined by the Big River clans of Pangerninghe and Braylwunyer, and the Midlands clans of Polemairre and Peenrymairmener, within the lake country where the wayalinah flourished.
The most aesthetic form of the cider gum is the umbrageous weeping gum. These elegant trees are rich in character with spreading branches that display a pageant of yellow-barked limbs that gleam vibrantly after rain. Many of them have a delight of contorted branches that droop earthward. The weeping gums often grow in frost hollows, frequently out beyond the main forest boundaries where the winter temperature is lower. As a means of adaption, the weeping gums have evolved through reproducing a sugary sap which contains a level of alcohol. Pure alcohol is renown for its anti-freeze properties, and therefore these trees are capable of withstanding extremely cold conditions.
Ancient cider gums once flourished wildly in moist environments around the yingina/Great Lake region. Cultural corroborees were no doubt celebrated with tastes of the sweet cider sap that the tribes had obtained from tapping a tree, and fermenting into something palatable.
It is said that the sap’s alcoholic properties led to its notable attraction, and there has been anecdotal stories of green rosellas displaying erratic behaviour, which may have been induced by them feeding on the cider gum’s sap.
The indigenous people of course were long interested in the cider gum’s sap, and most likely much of their summer highland activities of stories, dances and dreams were celebrated and lived through the bountiful legacy of wayalinah.
Personal Observations
The grand stands of cider gums south of Miena and St Patrick Plains appear to have mostly died around half a century ago, which coincides with a significant drought period in Tasmania. These stands are also located in exposed sunny aspects upon well drained plateaus, which in our modern climate is highly unsuitable given their preference for wet soils.
These areas also have been subjected to extensive pastoral grazing. Heavy grazing reduces much of the vegetation down to near ground level, and therefore dramatically restricts the soil from retaining sufficient moisture, and as a result, compounds tree stress, and eliminates any chance of seedling regeneration. Additional browsing from native animals and the increasing populations of wild deer only exacerbates the lack of seedling recovery in disturbed vegetation areas.
Throughout my surveys I located areas with fine stands of gums that have reproduced prolific seedlings. This generally occurs where the under-storey vegetation is dense, which provides good protection for seedling growth from natural browsing.
Unfortunately, much blame for the decline in cider gum populations has been directed at native animal activity. Any grazing and browsing contribute to the gum’s plight when the ground coverage has already been significantly disturbed.
With regards to fire, the intense wildfire of 2019 that spread from Great Pine Tier to the Great Lake did destroy many mature cider gums. Whilst the loss of these older trees is a tragedy, it is however a natural phenomenon as Eucalypts have evolved and adapted through wildfire. Today, regeneration through new seedlings, coppice sprouting, and lignotuber growth is significantly visible after 5 years, though browsing, particularly by increasing deer populations, will undoubtedly slow regeneration rates.
There are numerous programs aiding in the protection of the cider gums such as roadside retainment policy, fencing, caging and tree wrapping. However, regarding governments and policy, presently there is no adopted, or formulated ‘Recovery Plan’ for this species.
The greatest future threat to cider gums is longer-term drought, and a gradual decline in median rainfall.
So, can the cider gum adapt in this rapidly warming world?
Although climate and rainfall patterns do fluctuate, the ongoing global warming trend will challenge many species, particularly the likes of cider gums that essentially require moist soils. Furthermore, increased temperatures will most likely assist insect attacks.
Providing that the Earth’s temperature doesn’t rise any higher, then the cider gum is mostly like to survive subject to there being no ongoing dramatic understory disturbances. However, given the prognostic trajectory of global warming, and its associated impacts, the plight of the weeping gums seems quite dire!
Ultimately it will require a monumental shift in our present actions towards redressing human-caused climate change if we wish to retain many threatened species such as the cider gums. I am not optimistic that modern-day society has the political will to remediate our notable environmental impacts, though there are some that do.
Long live wayalinah!
by Ted Mead