Ayers Rock, a massive boulder in the middle of the Australian desert, is a
popular tourist destination. During the day, vacationers climb it; and, in
the evening, they watch it turn red in the sunset.
Dingoes are the native wild dogs of the continent. In late 1979, because
of recent dingo attacks on children, government officials in Darwin, the
capital of the Northern Territory (Ayers Rock National Park is in its
southwest corner) issued an order that, henceforth, no dingoes should be
fed, as they previously had, by the staff and tourists at Ayers Rock. It
was thought that, as a result of the ban, the dingoes would leave and go
elsewhere in the desert in search of food.
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“For a few moments it was the old Lindy Chamberlain—tiny,
vulnerable, and terribly ordinary as she tried in vain to stop the
flood of tears, her jaw quivering with the effort.
“Alongside her and just as distraught was her blond-haired husband,
Michael.
“He, too, sighed at the declaration.
“He, too, looked his old self as he smiled through his tears and put
his arm out for his wife, who was near to collapse.
“As they were crushed by well-wishers from the packed court and the
crowd gathered outside, one felt that old twinge of sadness and yet
a reflective triumph that two such ordinary people could have
dredged the depths of unfathomable determination, fought a seemingly
unbeatable system, and won.”
— The Australian Advertiser,
Friday, September 15, 1988
“It is the power of the media that is the frightening thing. There
are people who deal with the media all the time and they get good at
it. I’m not one of them, but I believe it’s a game you can get
bloody good at and play to your own advantage. But there are also
people like the Chamberlains out there—ordinary people from an
ordinary town who suddenly get all this tremendous attention and
have absolutely no idea how to deal with it.”
— Sam Neill, quoted in The
Australian Magazine, October 29, 1988 |
In 1969, just after graduation from Avondale, Michael Leigh Chamberlain
married Alice Lynne (Lindy) Murchison. By 1980, Michael was an ordained
minister of the Seventh-day Adventist Church and an assistant to the
president of Avondale College. In August of that year, the family decided
to visit Ayers Rock National Park for a weekend camping holiday. Taking
with them their three children, they camped at the large Uluru campsite.
Their oldest son, Aidan, was six years old at the time. Their second son,
Reagan, was only three.
Lindy had given birth to a baby girl, Azaria, only ten weeks earlier
(actually only nine weeks and four days). Azaria had been a planned baby.
Her parents had wanted a girl; and that is what they got. She was a
beautiful child, with no deformities, and had a Biblical name which means
“Blessed of God.”
In the winter of 1980, there was about one serious dingo attack on a child
at Ayers Rock every week. But with the school holiday season approaching,
that fact was kept secret. The tourist dollar is king at Ayers Rock; for
it is the leading tourist attraction in the entire Northern Territory.
Fear of dingo attacks could cut tourist revenue by tens of thousands of
dollars. Although a few signs were posted, telling them not to feed the
dingoes, virtually no one was aware of the dingo danger.
(The Australian “winter” occurs during our summer months: June through
September. During part of that time, school is out and the desert is not
so hot.)
There may have been 2,000 tourists there on Sunday, August 17, 1980. That
evening, as the sun was fast westering, Lindy went to their tent, in the
tourist camp, and laid little Azaria in her carry basket on the floor. She
then went out to where her husband and the tourists were gathered around a
campfire. Rather quickly she was alerted by a cry; and she went back to
check on the baby. As she neared the tent, she saw something that looked
like a dog run out the door with something in its mouth, immediately turn
at the tent corner, and disappear. Inside the tent, the baby was gone.
Immediately, she rushed out. “Michael, Michael, the dingo’s got my baby!”
The Australian media called it “the trial of the century.” The most lurid,
sensational stories were spread by the press all over the nation:
Adventists were said to be a weird people. Someone looked for the
definition of the baby’s name, “Azaria,” in the Oxford English Dictionary;
but they accidentally (?) obtained the meaning of “Azazel” (the scapegoat of
Leviticus 16), which was said to be “sacrifice in the wilderness.” (As
mentioned earlier, “Azaria” is a Hebrew word, meaning “Blessed of God.”)
It was said that the Chamberlains purposely went to Ayers Rock in order to
slay the infant. Lindy was said to have buried the child in the sand after
doing it. —On and on went the wild stories; all of them were untrue.
Nearly the entire nation was led to believe that the baby was killed in
the desert in an Adventist religious ritual.
The nation was stirred to its core; and a great majority of the people
were convinced that Lindy had murdered her child.
Certain things helped bring that conviction about: One was the fact that
Lindy was the type that showed little emotion in public. If she had wept
openly as most mothers would, it would have helped.
Another problem was that the Northern Territory government was extremely
anxious to sidestep the fact that it was responsible for what had
happened! That order, to not feed the wild dogs, should not have been
given or it should have been followed up by getting rid of the oversupply
of dingoes in the area,—especially the one that had become so vicious.
Another problem was the fact that the dingo which took the baby—was known.
It was “Ding,” the special pet of one of the staff families at the park.
Although born wild, like all the other dingoes, Ding had been partially
tamed by members of several families that worked at Ayers Rock Park. But
there was one family, the Cawoods, who gave him the most attention and
love. Prior to the ban on feeding dingoes, they fed him every evening.
They even let him into the house on cold nights, so he could warm himself
by the heater. On one occasion, Ranger Ian Cawood had wormed Ding.
Ding was a healthy young male, the same color as the red Ayers Rock soil.
He had distinctive markings because he was part dog, was somewhat larger
and stronger than other dingoes, and was the pet of about six families at
Ayers Rock. Ding was a semi-domesticated creature. And, in his travels
from home to home, he had acquired several other names, including
“Scarface” and (among aborigines) “Kulpunya”—the devil dog. He was an
easily recognized red dingo, with a white band around his neck. With a
tail longer and bushier than pure dingoes, he was a large, strong male.
But new rules banned tourists and park staff from feeding dingoes. So Ding
had been losing weight rapidly. The problem was that dingo males bring the
food to their mates with young; and it is believed that Ding may have
sired a litter and, while himself starving, was trying to forage for food
to take to both mother and pups. The new no-feed order affected all the
dingoes; Ding was the most deprived because he was the most domesticated.
Without food from the park staff and tourists, Ding became desperate for
food. One photo, taken about the time of Azaria’s death, showed Ding to be
an emaciated animal, with his ribs clearly showing.
Crazed by hunger, he began attacking children. The first of these was an
aboriginal girl. This attack was never reported to authorities. Then, on
June 23, only two months before Azaria died, Ding attacked the daughter of
one of the staff families (Amanda Cranwell). But her parents did not
disclose this incident until April 1984.
Little Amanda, only four at the time, was dragged out of the family car by
the head and neck. Max Cranwell, the father, later said, “I feel we could
be in the position of the Chamberlains ourselves. As things have gone on,
we have felt that the same thing could have happened to us—and Phyllis
[his wife] might now be in jail.”
Ding was clearly identified in that attack. Other attacks were against
tourists. In that two-month period of attacks, no dingo was shot, except
for the alleged “shooting” of Ding.
The morning after Ding attacked Amanda, Ian Cawood told Max that Ding had
been “dealt with.” Word spread among the staff that Ding had been shot.
Keep in mind that the Cawoods, more than the others, had for over a year
provided a special home for Ding. Although (like all the others) they
obeyed the no-feeding ban, they did not want to kill their pet.
So Cawood drove Ding to a slaughterhouse at Curtin Springs Station, about
60 km [37.3 mi] east of Ayers Rock. He was well-fed there. It is known
that an aborigine (Nipper Winmatti), from Ayers Rock, later recognized
Ding at the slaughterhouse.
Thinking he had gotten lost, the aborigine may have brought Ding back on
his truck. Or perhaps, missing his families, Ding went back by himself.
Either way, once back at Ayers Rock Park, he rapidly began starving again.
There are photos which confirm this. (The aborigines were the original
natives of Australia, when the British first arrived and settled the
land.)
There were nine confirmed sightings of Ding alive after Cawood claimed to
have “dealt with” him—several by the staff houses. Therefore we can have
certainty that Cawood had not shot him before the attack on Azaria.
Because he had earlier attacked the two children, as well as several
tourists, all the workers knew that half-starved Ding was dangerous. It
was their responsibility to shoot the animal, but none did; even though,
from the sightings they knew he was still alive. They knew it was the pet
of some of the families.
It is known that Ding walked about Ayers Rock village for about 12 hours
that day, before the baby was taken. Among those who saw him was the
aborigine, Nipper Winmatti, who knew the dingo well.
A few minutes before Azaria disappeared on that fateful evening, a dingo
was seen walking toward the Chamberlain tent. A mother with a busload of
children from Sydney’s Newington College saw it—and described it as a big
red dingo. When shown a set of dingo photographs, she identified one as
the dingo she saw. It was Ding.
A social worker, from the Australian county of Victoria, and a Victorian
Trainee schoolteacher also saw a dingo walking toward the Chamberlain
tent. When separately shown a series of 15 dingo photos, both selected a
photo of Ding as the animal they saw.
At about 8 p.m. on August 17th, Lindy put Azaria to bed; she first rubbed
her bottom with a lanolin-based cream. Lanolin is a fatty substance
extracted from sheep’s wool. It may have attracted the dingo.
Just before putting the infant to bed in the tent, Lindy had been talking
to Greg Lowe, a Tasmanian tourist, at the barbecue site. Because he did
not know which tent was the Chamberlain’s, he watched as she went to it.
From where he stood he had a clear sighting, from the side, and saw her
back out of the tent, after laying the infant down. She had both arms
free. (This was important, because the later accusation was that she
carried the infant to her car and killed it.)
She put her left arm around her six-year-old son, Aidan. Her right arm was
in full sight of Greg Lowe; and it was holding nothing. Then, wearing the
same floral dress she earlier had on (not the tracksuit trousers the Crown
alleged she changed into), he saw her walk toward her car. About
four-and-a-half minutes later, he again saw her; and he and his wife,
Sally, conversed with her at the campfire. She had been out of sight of
the other campers for about 10-12 minutes.
During that time, she was later charged with having (1) changed from her
floral dress to a tracksuit, (2) taken Azaria to her car, and (3) killed
her there, using a pair of scissors, and (4) changed back into the floral
dress. —All in a space of 10-12 minutes.
Yet Lindy was only out of Greg Lowe’s sight for about four and a half
minutes.
Her oldest son, Aidan, was six years old at the time. He was with his
mother the entire 10-12 minutes she was away from the campfire and with
Azaria in the tent. But he did not testify in the court trial, because
Lindy did not want him emotionally hurt by what would have been a grueling
cross-examination.
Lindy rejoined her husband around the campfire; and, as they stood there
conversing with Greg and Sally Lowe, a life-changing event was taking
place.
Looking for food, Ding crept into their tent. Reagan, the three-year-old
Chamberlain child, suddenly awoke with Ding standing on top of him. Like
Amanda Cranwell, he had nightmares for years afterward. Although too young
to address the court, the boy never changed his story: “The dingo stood on
top of me.”
It is of interest that, if Azaria had not been in the tent, the dingo
would have attacked Reagan and probably killed her.
Les Harris, president of the Dingo Foundation, later said that Ding would
not have been able to tell the infant Azaria apart from any other small
animal—a rabbit or a bandicoot. Harris explained that he would have picked
her up and then killed her with a violent shaking, breaking the infant’s
neck.
Azaria’s last cry was heard around the campfire. It was between 8:02 and
8:03 p.m. “That was bubby crying!” said Aidan Chamberlain to his father,
who was talking to the Lowes. Turning to Lindy, Michael said, “Wasn’t that
bubby crying?” Immediately, Lindy went to the tent.
It is highly significant that Aidan, Michael, and Sally all heard the baby
cry while Lindy stood beside them—after the time when the prosecution
alleged that Azaria had already been murdered by her in the car. Sally
Lowe described the cry as being a “cutoff” cry and an urgent one.
The dingo came out of the front opening of the tent just as Lindy came
hurrying to the front entrance. But, because of a shadow cast by a wooden
fence, she could not clearly see what was in its mouth. As the dingo came
out, it was shaking whatever was in its mouth, which Lindy initially
thought to be a “sandshoe.”
(It should be mentioned here that Chief Constable Frank Morris later
testified that, when she was interviewed by him at 8:30 p.m. that evening
about the death of her baby, she said she actually saw the baby in the
dingo’s mouth. But Lindy denies this. Throughout the trial and all that
followed, Lindy was always very careful to only speak the truth as she
knew it.)
The description she later gave of the animal exactly fit Ding. Suddenly,
in great fear for the safety of her children, Lindy ran to the tent. As
she did, she noticed a dingo standing near their car. (It very likely was
“the second one” which was to follow Ding.)
A quick look inside told her what had happened; and, shouting, she ran to
the group. “Michael! Michael! A dingo’s got my baby!” Judith West, who was
reading in a nearby tent, heard her shouted words.
The Chamberlains quickly shouted the problem to everyone standing around;
and Michael and Greg Lowe ran from the barbecue area in the direction
where Lindy saw the dingo go.
(The front of their tent faced west, the direction of the campfire. When
Ding came out of the tent with the baby, it went to the tent corner,
turned and ran east.)
There were two dingoes by the Chamberlain’s tent; one was Ding. As the
people began shouting, both animals ran east from the campsite, knowing it
was the quickest way to hide.
About a hundred yards east of the Chamberlain tent was a lengthy sandridge,
which ran north to south. Upon reaching it, an animal could disappear over
it and not be seen. But even without it, a dingo could be hard to see
among the desert brush.
Michael and Greg chased after one dingo which headed due east. They were
close to it; but, when they saw that it was carrying nothing, they gave up
the chase and began searching among the brush.
The second dingo, which was Ding, ran southeast with no one immediately
after it. It ran about 150 meters [164 yd] and then stopped. But a
Victorian schoolteacher, Murray Haby, was trying to track it. To the left
(north) of him were the other men; so the thought came to mind to change
directions. Turning a full 90o to the right, he searched along the
sandridge toward the south, hoping to find where that second dingo’s
tracks cut across the sandridge.
Murray found the tracks! He later described them in a Channel 10 interview
as “rather deep, as if the dingo was carrying something.” His evidence was
later corroborated by two native tracking experts.
Following those tracks, Murray arrived at a spot where there was a cloth
impression in the sand. The tracks went around it in a circle that was
about three or four meters in diameter. From there, the tracks headed
south. Murray followed them until they disappeared on the edge of a
tourist parking lot.
A tourist rushed in his car over to the Police Station; but no one was
there. Running next door, he banged on John Beasey’s home. John opened it
and told him to go across the road and tell the ranger (second in charge)
what had happened. It was Cawood’s home; but no one was there. Returning
to Beasey, he demanded help. John went next door and woke up Senior
Constable Frank Morris. They were the first park staff to learn what had
happened.
(It should be noted that there were three homes clustered together by the
police station: Beasey was only a mechanic. The other two were Morris,
head policeman, and Cawood, the second-in-command of the park rangers. One
or another of this cluster of buildings will repeatedly enter into this
story.)
Then Beasey headed south, alerting the rangers there, while Morris went
north, alerting other park attendants. Morris found Ian Cawood and Ranger
Iain Marshall drinking at the bar at the Ayers Rock Chalet.
Cawood later testified in court that, as soon as he was notified, he drove
directly to the campground to help in the search. But Iain Marshall later
told private investigators that Cawood first drove to his home. (He later
testified that he did not spent the last part of the night at home; but he
was searching known dingo lairs during that time.)
Meanwhile, Anna Marshall, the ranger’s wife, ran in and told Roberta
Downs, the full-time nurse at Ayers Rock, “A child has been taken by a
dingo!” Then there was silence for a time, as the two women looked into
one another’s eyes. Both knew what had happened. It was Roberta who only a
few days before had argued with Anna about the dingo attacks, telling her,
“Do we have to wait till a child is seriously injured or killed before we
do something?” (Roberta was to become a close friend of the Chamberlains.)
The searchers were told by staff to go to the Sunrise Hill parking area.
Sunrise Hill is a paved portion of that long sandridge. It is customary
each morning at dawn for tourists to go there and, with the morning sun
behind them, watch the brilliant red sunrise on Ayers Rock to the west.
From Sunrise Hill, the tourists were fanned out in a wide-ranging
searching party. By this time, all the tourists knew they were searching
for a dingo which had taken baby Azaria. Not one of them had the slightest
suspicion that the baby’s mother had killed it. That theory was a later
government fabrication, foisted on an ignorant, gullible public.
For the first two and a half hours, all 300 searchers aimlessly wandered
through the desert brush. During that time, the top-ranking staff had time
to decide what they should do to begin the cover-up.