The race against time: Salvaging Brisbane's early history
In a sterile office, a young woman named Emily Totivan is immersed in a challenging puzzle. But this puzzle is not just any ordinary one; it's a complex jigsaw of ceramic shards, each piece almost identical to the next, yet none likely to be completed. Totivan, an archaeology student, is meticulously assembling these fragments, which once formed dinner plates used by people in Brisbane around 150 years ago, during the city's transition from a penal settlement to a river port capital.
The plates' intricate blue and white patterns depict a serene Chinese-inspired scene of pagodas, willows, and swallows. Totivan notes that such designs were prevalent on tea sets, platters, and vases of the time. She describes the task as akin to solving the world's hardest puzzle, yet incredibly rewarding.
Totivan, part of a generation grappling with the challenges of artificial intelligence and climate change, is among a new wave of young people who are not only interested in the past but also eager to engage with it. Despite popular culture's portrayal of archaeologists as tomb raiders or treasure hunters, many of her peers will eventually work in major cities, unearthing and studying artifacts like these blue China plates.
Brisbane is on the cusp of a salvage archaeology boom, fueled by the city's preparations for the 2032 Olympics. Extensive soil excavation is necessary to make way for new infrastructure, including a proposed 63,000-seat stadium on the site of a heritage-listed park with a rich Indigenous, colonial, and multicultural history.
Working alongside Totivan is Elisha Kilderry, a fellow 19-year-old passionate about the past since childhood. Kilderry studies genetics and archaeology, aiming to reveal human and biological evolution stories through bone and genome analysis. In this office, she works with larger white ceramic shards featuring a geometric viridian green design.
Initially, Kilderry envisioned her archaeology career in Europe or remote Indigenous cultural heritage digs in Australia. However, she now sifts through the William Street assemblage, a collection of everyday fragments from the 1870s to 1890s, including clay pipes, rum bottles, ceramic dolls, and a bone toothbrush. Kilderry finds it surreal to examine items that once belonged to people living on the same street she calls home.
Some artifacts resonate with these students, while others are distinctly of their era. As Kilderry pieces together a chamberpot, its narrow base curves outward to a wide open rim. She identifies it as a chamberpot, highlighting the relatable and historical nature of the artifacts.
Ten other University of Queensland archaeology students collaborate with Totivan and Kilderry, forming clusters around scattered ceramic, glass, and bone fragments. Many more applied for this week-long, hands-on experience in January, the first of its kind offered by the university. Lecturer Dr. Caitlin D'Gluyas emphasizes the joy of teamwork in archaeology projects.
The William Street assemblage was not unearthed through traditional excavation. Its journey to the Queensland Museum began abruptly during the 2011 floods when a burst water main dislodged tens of thousands of artifacts from beneath the street, cascading past the convict-built Commissariat Store, one of Queensland's oldest buildings. The University of Queensland Archaeological Services Unit (UQASU) worked alongside emergency crews to salvage as much archaeology as possible.
While this type of archaeology against the clock is more common than one might think, it is typically associated with major infrastructure builds or construction projects. Nick Hadnutt, the Queensland Museum's archaeology curator, notes that the museum rarely acquires assemblages due to plumbing disasters.
The UQASU team faced an overwhelming amount of material and prioritized unusual or noteworthy items and those offering insights into everyday life. They rescued torpedo-shaped Hamilton bottles, which, when kept on their side, held carbonated liquids, and an ornate toilet seat.
One of the few intact objects is a small ink bottle from the heritage-listed government printing house, still retaining a dash of ink used over a century ago. John Duckett, a 21-year-old student from Queensland's beef capital of Rockhampton, who enjoys video games and Instagram, volunteers for a dig on a Bronze Age brewery in Norfolk, England. He appreciates the physical and local nature of archaeology, contrasting it with digital experiences.
Despite their violent dislocation from their resting place, the William Street objects hold little scientific value, according to Hadnutt. The museum acquired them for more emotive reasons, as archaeology is both a physical and intellectual pursuit, involving the handling of history with its weight, texture, and smell.
