Nick's Life on the Maribyrnong River:
Nick, it seemed to me, had always lived on the river. He was as much a part of it as a bird, a tree or the cave. My friends and I spent many hours playing along the Maribyrnong River and we would often see Nick rafting on the river or working around his camp site, we would wave to each other and then go about our activities. There was a general feeling of "Live and Let Live". We had respect for Nick's way of life, and as we didn't bother him, he seemed happy to let us go on with what we were doing.
We all loved the river, but Nick not only loved
it, he lived it. He was part of it
and it was part of him. His home
was built on a sort of diamond shaped piece of land that was formed where the
creek (used to be known as Rose Creek, now known as Steele Creek) joined the
Maribyrnong River. He called the
camp site his "Fort Diamond". I
guess both because of the natural shape of the environment and due to the
protection the landscape offered."...
the creek and river formed a natural moat. Steep valley walls and rough undeveloped country on the landward side
provided further privacy. The flood
prone valley has deterred the developers, and the munitions factory on the
opposite banks was out of bounds for the general public".
Photo:
Paul Williams
Nick's History:
Nick was born in Latvia in 1911. His parents had a few hectares of land, and a river ran through this property. This is where Nick's love of river life developed. The river was covered in lilies and reeds and a variety of fish was abundantly available. Unfortunately hard times forced his parents to sell up and move to the city of Riga where his father worked as a barman and his mother ran a dairy. Nick went to college and studied humanities and sciences. He was intelligent and ambitious and held several important positions including being a bodyguard to the president of Latvia.
Then the Second World War broke out in Europe with well known devastating effects. The invasion of the Soviet Union and occupation of the Baltic States, led to Nick being forced to work for the Germans in a Polish Labour Camp. After the war, Nick was considered a displaced person and was sent to a refugee camp.
Its difficult for me to imagine the horrors that Nick would have endured and the suspicion, tension and mistrust that would have been evident during those years.
On 1 May 1949, Nick arrived in Australia on a Norwegian boat carrying refugees from post-war Europe. He was married and had a daughter and the Libertz family began their new life in Suburban Melbourne, trying to put the horrors of the last ten years behind them. Nick worked in several process work positions including the assembly line at the Ford Factory in Campbellfield, the glass factory in Spotswood, and the brickworks in Auburn.
The previous trauma that Nick had experienced made it very difficult for him to settle in to a routine job and to trust society in general. He often experienced feelings of suspicion towards others.
"While traveling on a tram in Albert Park, Nick suddenly became suspicious of 3 men who had entered and sat beside him. The mentality of fear that he had developed but kept at bay during all those years on the run had surfaced. Nick jumped off the moving tram and fled into the night."
Life and things in general got worse for Nick over the coming months until finally he could take no more. He realized he needed the peace and serenity and relative safety of the river.
Nick first started living on the banks of the Yarra, he had a long stay in Heyington, but was eventually moved on by the Board of Works. He then moved along the Yarra, towards the junction with the Maribyrnong, camping at various sites, but was continually moved on by local authorities or through harassment by local residents. "Incoming tides enabled him to float gradually upstream along the Maribyrnong River, until he reached the site of his present camp in 1971. The perfect strategic location."
Nick's Home:
Nick had been threatened and attacked by all sorts of people during his travel along both the Yarra and the Maribyrnong. Even with the natural protection offered by 'Fort Diamond', Nick was still very aware he needed as much protection against thugs and vandals as he could possibly construct. "I must always be on guard. Those holes in the cable reels, they are from bullets. People are always after targets. When things get bad they blame the migrant. Then it is time to lie low. We migrants are a hardy race. Survival experts".
Nick's home was a "ramshackle humpy built on stilts that supported two storeys framed by twisting poles and beams. The roof was crowned by a large water tank lying on its side, covered by canvas and weather beaten carpets. His two storey shack enabled him to climb over the occasional flood. Its like a "floating tent" having been built on 10 steel drums, it was attached by wire to the higher levels of the main dwelling, to enable it to move with the rising waters. Around the perimeter a barbed wire fence protected his riverside dwelling, about 15 metres beyond, another fence provided an added barrier, covered in old blankets and surmounted by a row of thin stakes that twisted upwards to forbidding sharp points."
Environmental issues were very important to Nick, he was very upset by the general lack of care towards nature and the river that was shown by many city dwellers. He spent most of the day retrieving carelessly discarded rubbish from the river and its surrounds. He collected and stored most of these articles in his back yard for future use. Anything he considered completely useless was burned. In his yard were such things as barrels, tyres, steel drums, pots, pans, pieces of material and metal, wooden beams, tubs, water troughs, eskies, bottles, cartons, buckets, umbrellas, sheets of plastic, gloves, wheels of many sizes, old sewing machines, several refrigerators, ropes, and a pram hanging on the fence.
At this time Nick would have been in his late 60's.He was well known and respected around Essendon. Clothed in a navy blue tracksuit and usually carrying cardboard boxes tied up with rope, he often traveled on the Buckley Street bus, and would happily chat with the driver or anyone else that was friendly.
My brother John, who is 7 years older than me, was good friends with Nick. They spent many hours fishing together and discussing the world in general. John remembers Nick with fondness and remarked that he was very articulate and intelligent. A small transistor radio was his link to the outside world. He kept up to date with the news and current affairs of the day. Although he was affectionately known as Nick the Hermit, he just lived a different life, rather than a reclusive life. "I'm not an isolate. I enjoy living too much to be called a hermit. Call me a rat-bag instead ... for 20 years people have been trying to put a dog collar around my neck. They do not like someone who is so much against convention. I approached the door leading to convention, and knocked on it for many years. But it was locked. Now I prefer my freedom."
Nick's Cats and Dog:
Nick loved his cats, and they loved him. He had around 60 cats and kittens, They loved to roam around the scrub and some of them were even seen swimming across the creek to explore the cliffs on the Essendon side of the river. "Dozens of cats littered the back yard, lying in, so it seemed, every possible place of comfort. Nick filled a large dish with milk and within seconds, cats were dashing from all corners of the yard to crowd for their share. Nick spends a lot of time looking after the cats, feeding them, healing them, and on one occasion at least, saving them from flood. He had been up since three this morning. By four he was punting across the river to climb the steep embankment and do the rounds of several local hotels and restaurants. He collected leftovers from previous meals, extra food for his cats. With more than 60 to feed, the price of cat food was becoming exorbitant. "You see, they are the real campers here, and I am their servant." The cats dormitory was an overturned wooden boat covered in plastic sheets. Nick spent the winter months in this shelter, surrounded by his cats, rugged up against the cold."
When I was around 7 or 8, I came home from school one day and there was a stray dog in our yard playing with our dog Susie. This was not unusual in the 1970's as dogs often wandered around our neighbourhood, and we would mind them until their owner could be found. Nick was at our side gate saying "Hello, my beautiful girl". My father and brother were talking with Nick and he explained that it was his dog but she kept chasing and snarling at his cats. If we could keep her he would be very happy as he liked and respected our family, and felt we would give her a good home. We named her Cindy (we must have forgotten to ask what her name was) it wasn't until a week or so later we heard Nick at the gate saying "Priscilla, Priscilla, my beauty". Anyway she seemed quite happy being called Cindy by us and Priscilla by Nick. Nick would give both Cindy (Priscilla) and Susie scraps of food at the gate and they both thought he was wonderful. We got very used to Nick coming late at night and early in the mornings to see the dogs. The dogs were very pleased too!
Both Susie and Cindy lived to a good old age and
seemed very happy together. We
often took the dogs for walks along the river, so I guess they
had the best of both worlds.
View from Lily St Lookout The passing of Nick:
Photo: Anthea Stubbs
Sadly, Nick was attacked by cruel people on many occasions. My brother John recalls walking alongside the creek, sometime around 1975, and Nick called out "Get the police, someone is shooting at me with a rifle. John ran home and dad rang the police. The police caught the offenders and Nick was unhurt but shaken up.
Often people would throw rocks at him or shoot at him, so Nick always wore a helmet when around his home or on his raft.
Early in 1983, Nick was badly beaten up during the night in his home. He was in his early 70's by this time and somehow managed to drag himself up the cliff to get help. He had a broken arm, several stitches in his face and cracked ribs. Two days later he was back on the river but was struggling to get around and neighbors on the heights were so concerned for Nick and they persuaded him to stay with them for a week to recuperate.
A couple of nights later his home was set on fire, more than a dozen cats were killed and nearly all his possessions lost. Many people came and gave him a hand to try to rebuild his home, but the events of the last few months had taken their toll and he collapsed in March.
Nick was admitted to hospital, then later transferred to a nursing home. He was diagnosed with cancer of the bone marrow and died in December 1983.
Nick lived through much trauma in his life. Its very sad that someone so pleasant, thoughtful and caring was treated so badly by some cruel and narrow minded people. He meant no harm to anyone, in fact, he did much to try and help both people and the environment. I am glad that he also met many good people that showed him genuine friendship and accepted his different way of life. I feel it is an honour to have known Nick and will always remember him.