Freddy Shortjoe
The Taipan and Mud Spring: A Story Carried by Country,
Kinship, and Custodianship
UNGANCO has had the privilege of working with Freddy Shortjoe over the past 18 months. The story shared by Freddy comes from deep cultural memory and family responsibility. It is not a new story, nor one created for retelling. It is inherited knowledge, carefully carried.
Freddy recalls that this story was passed down to him by his grandmother, Topsy Wolmby, a respected illustrator and knowledge holder of Wik Muungkan language and stories.
Topsy was a linguist within the community and a woman of standing in her time—recognised for her strength, endurance, and cultural authority. She later married Freddy’s grandfather, Frank Wolmby, who was the brother of Victor Wolmby and Colin Wolmby.
Through this family line, the story has travelled carefully across generations, anchored to people, place, and obligation.
Long ago, before the Taipan was feared, it was just another snake. It did not command respect and it was not dangerous. In those early times there was the Sand Goanna, a powerful being that carried poison glands.
The Taipan was clever rather than strong. Through trickery, it stole the poison glands from the Sand Goanna. With that theft, the Taipan gained all the poisons it needed.
Once it carried those poisons, the Taipan changed. It became powerful and feared, travelling freely across the north—through Cape York, the Northern Territory, and Queensland. It became known as the king of snakes.
With that power, the Taipan took what it wanted. It moved across country without restraint and even stole women, acting without respect for relationships or balance.
Eventually, the Taipan travelled south to Coen, to an area now known as Crystal Vale Station, which forms part of Freddy’s traditional land.
There, the Taipan attempted to steal the girlfriend of the Blue-tongue Lizard, who was the Water Python. This act crossed a line. It was not just an insult—it was a breach of order.
The Blue-tongue Lizard was not weak. Knowing it could not defeat the Taipan through poison, it prepared itself. The Blue-tongue Lizard gathered pandanus fibres and placed them into its mouth, forming sharp, strong teeth. When the confrontation came, the Blue-tongue Lizard struck with purpose and resolve. It bit the Taipan’s head clean from its body.
As the Taipan died, its blood poured onto the ground. That blood flowed into a waterhole and across the surrounding rock.
From that moment, the land changed. The rock formations at that place were shaped and coloured by the Taipan’s blood. That place is known today as Mud Spring. The waterhole and its surrounding rocks stand as a physical reminder of the battle, and of what happens when power is taken through deception and used without respect.
Topsy Wolmby taught that the Taipan’s name itself comes from Aurukun, passed down through one of the family groups there. The story explains not only how the Taipan became dangerous, but also how it was ultimately stopped—not by greater poison, but by preparation, knowledge, and rightful action.
The Blue-tongue Lizard’s use of pandanus speaks to intelligence, adaptation, and restraint, rather than raw force.
Today, Mud Spring at Crystal Vale Station remains a living place of story. Freddy holds custodianship not just over the land, but over the knowledge tied to it. He shares this story with care, understanding that stories are not simply told—they are carried.
A meaningful part of this story’s continuation is how it is shared in contemporary times. Freddy is proud that Alex listens, respects, and carries the story properly, allowing others to read it and understand the depth of meaning embedded in the land.
This is not simply a story about animals. It is a story about power and consequence, about respect for relationships, about cleverness versus wisdom, and about how the land itself remembers what happened.
Through Topsy Wolmby, Frank Wolmby, and those before them, the story has endured. Through Freddy, it continues—grounded in lineage, country, and responsibility.