A treasured ecosystem
The Bunurong people understood the area’s significance, naming it for its boomerang-shaped shoreline. They valued it as a source of sustenance and connection to the land.
The swamp was a haven for waterbirds, fish and other wildlife, with biodiversity to rival Kakadu National Park. Kangaroos and emus roamed along the sandy dunes, and black eels darted through the swamp’s muddy waters. It was a treasured ecosystem that sustained a harmonious way of life.
From swampland to farmland
But as Europeans arrived in the wake of the gold rush, the story of Karrum Karrum began to shift. The promise of gold gave way to the search for fertile land. People turned their eyes to the swamp’s rich soil.
In 1871 farmland in the Carrum Carrum Swamp was made available. But it quickly became clear this was no ordinary challenge. It was a battle against nature.
Stories of hardship emerged:
- farmers trudged through knee-deep water just to access their land
- goods were carried across flooded plains
- crops rotted in fields drenched with floodwaters.
“Some of my family were often in the habit of walking all the distance with the water above our knees, carrying our week’s provisions with us.”
“I was up to my armpits in water in some sections of my property.”
“During the winter, there was not one acre dry in the whole of it, making cultivation useless.”
Early drainage attempts: Patterson Cut
Desperate to tame the swamp, early attempts at drainage began in the 1870s. In 1879 this culminated in the creation of the Patterson Cut: a channel 30 feet wide, carved through the sand ridge. This gave the floodwaters an outlet to Port Phillip Bay, providing some relief to the beleaguered residents.
Yet the floods continued, forcing families to abandon their homes – most infamously in 1880, 1934 and 1952.
In November 1923, a sudden downpour pushed the community to its limits. Streets like Chute Street, Krone Street and Edith Street in Mordialloc were under feet of water. Buildings flooded and vegetable crops devastated. As one local reflected, “The roads were impassable. The water just didn’t leave. Year after year, it was the same struggle.”
The constant flooding and disruption, time and again, meant it was not a pleasant place to live.
An era of transformation
The draining of the swamp marked a profound transformation, as wetlands gave way to farmland and suburbs. But by the 1990s a new era of waterway management emerged.
Engineers shifted their focus, designing systems that mimicked nature. They preserved wetlands and used retarding basins to slow floodwaters. To incorporate these designs into urban developments and reduce stormwater pollution, Melbourne Water joined forces with local councils, the development industry, farmers and community groups.
The last remnants of the swamp – the Edithvale-Seaford Wetlands – became a symbol of this collaborative effort.
The wetlands today
Today, the Edithvale-Seaford Wetlands serve as a living reminder of the swamp’s legacy, offering a glimpse into what Karrum Karrum once looked like. They remain critical not only for their contribution to the environment, but also to the region’s drainage.
The wetlands support endangered bird species like the Australasian Bittern and the Curlew Sandpiper, and migratory birds like the Sharp-tailed Sandpiper. They are a protected and internationally-recognised Ramsar site, where wildlife flourishes and floodwaters are controlled.
Meanwhile, their ability to store floodwaters protects homes from flooding, echoing the swamp’s original function.
