The frame of the old four-wheel drive rattles as it turns off the Bruce Highway onto an unassuming gravel dirt road.

The surrounding paddocks and scrubland slope away as the track winds up a hill to a collection of low-set buildings.

Thornhill Station, about 30 kilometres south of Miriam Vale in central Queensland, connects elders to country and creates employment opportunities for Aboriginal youths.

Taribelang Bunda man Kelvin Rowe trained at the property before gaining his ranger qualifications in 2018.

“Some of my cousins were rangers, so I thought I’d give it a go,” he said.

“I used to do farm work, like seasonal picking … and I also made artefacts with my grandparents. I probably would have kept that going.”

He’s now a diver involved in reef monitoring projects that visit 18 coral sites along the Bundaberg coast each year, taking hundreds of photos to monitor changes in the environment.

“We’ve got river runoffs, and also commercial building development [there],” he said.

“We do those sites just in case they’ve [builders] got their pipes in the wrong place and sediments coming out of the river [and to check] if it’s hurting some of our sites.”

‘Break the cycle’

Thornhill Station is run by Gidarjil Development Corporation, which employs traditional owners as rangers to look after country and oversee the education of its trainees.

Coordinator and Gurang man Brendan Fletcher said the 400-hectare site was an ideal training ground for Indigenous young people.

“It gives disadvantaged youths opportunities to get job experience for six months where they get paid a wage,” he said.

The trainees complete a Certificate I qualification in construction or land conservation, including feral pest and weed management, animal conservation, and traditional burning. 

Elders on country

Mr Fletcher said the property had been in the hands of traditional owners for about 40 years and elders played a key part in its development.

“Everything we do, we involve our elders,” he said.

“We want them to steer us in a direction that they see fit for our Indigenous rangers and what happens on Thornhill and on country.”

Mr Fletcher said it also enabled elders to maintain, or reignite their connection with country.

Virtual experience

For those elders who can’t physically attend the property, Gidarjil has been helping them connect to country virtually.

Using aerial and underwater drones, rangers live stream footage to the elders.

Gidarjil project coordinator and Gangulu woman Bec Reeves said it had allowed more elders to be involved. 

“They get an understanding of what the health of our country is like,” she said.

“It really gets our elders, who can’t get out on country, feeling connected again.”

Gurang elder Lola Tiger welcomed the use of technology along with the traditional methods.

“I see that traditional skills plus technology must go hand in hand,” she said.

“Send up a drone and [we can] see the escarpments, and what’s sitting in there, without humans going up, touching it, and just making it more vulnerable for erosion.”

Ms Tiger said she thought the rangers were “doing a marvellous job”.

For senior ranger Kelvin Rowe, developing relationships with elders had been a highlight of the job.

“I love my job because I get out and about, I teach others,” he said.

“We’re helping to bring everything back how they [the elders] would like it.”

Five years on from his time as a trainee, Mr Rowe was keen to see more “young ones out there becoming rangers”.

“It helps them to work out of town, away from home, gets them doing things for themselves,” he said.

“Having a routine, get them out and about in the workforce.”