Litchfield National Park, a jewel in Australia's Northern Territory, is facing an ecological crisis that threatens its very essence. Imagine a landscape once teeming with vibrant wildlife and lush vegetation, now overrun by an invasive grass so relentless, it's been dubbed the 'cane toad' of grasses. This is the grim reality posed by gamba grass, a menace that has environmentalists, tourism operators, and locals alike sounding the alarm.
Standing at the edge of Rum Jungle Lake, Pauline Cass, an environmental scientist and campaigner, surveys a sea of wispy grass that resembles sugar cane, towering twice her height in some places. Cass, a spokesperson for the Gamba Grassroots Action Group, has witnessed the park's transformation since her teenage years, when AC/DC blared in the background. Today, the scene is starkly different. "That's all gamba," she remarks, pointing to a dense clump amidst the native stringy barks, cycads, and sand palms. With her 'gamba muscles,' she attempts to pull the weed, but it's a losing battle. "It comes back after fire, and the roots just keep regrowing," she explains. "It's too big and dense to eradicate."
But here's where it gets controversial: While the NT government labels gamba grass as one of the territory's worst environmental threats, the challenge lies in mobilizing sufficient action. Gamba's rapid spread has already caused alarm, with fears that it could render Litchfield's iconic attractions—its explosive waterfalls, iridescent billabongs, and diverse wildlife—inaccessible if not urgently contained.
Litchfield, roughly the size of Greater Hobart, is a paradise of natural wonders. Its red rock cliffs, clear pools, and vibrant forests attract 250,000 visitors annually. The NT government's recent purchase of Silkwood, a 30,000-hectare parcel, aims to expand the park's southern border, further boosting its appeal. Yet, this expansion comes with a looming threat.
And this is the part most people miss: Gamba grass was introduced in the 1960s as part of federal efforts to support the NT's agricultural ambitions. Scientists like Keith Ferdinands now call this approach 'completely crazy,' though well-intentioned at the time. Gamba, a perennial tussock grass, initially served as cattle feed during dry spells but soon escaped pastoral boundaries, becoming an invasive nightmare.
When Litchfield was established in 1991, it was deemed gamba-free. However, a 2014 helicopter survey revealed a 30,000-hectare infestation—the largest in any Australian national park. By 2021-2022, it had spread another 10,000 hectares. Scientists warn that without significant control, gamba could cover 30% of Litchfield within eight years, pushing the park toward ecological disaster.
The NT government has allocated $250,000 annually, in addition to general weeds funding, and employed a Gamba Coordinator for six months each year. Federal funding of $492,000 has also helped reduce gamba grass in the Tabletop region by 90% in the past year. Yet, Charles Darwin University's Natalie Rossiter-Rachor estimates that 30,000 hectares of gamba remain in Litchfield, requiring $6.6 million over five years to protect most tourist sites.
Here's the kicker: While the federal government has invested $9.8 million in gamba control programs in other regions, this funding cycle ends in June, and the NT government has withdrawn support for the Gamba Army, which conducted weed sprays in Litchfield. This leaves the park vulnerable, especially as gamba-fueled fires burn hotter and longer than native grass fires, posing a significant threat to wildlife and visitors alike.
Nina Keener, who runs an animal sanctuary on Litchfield's outskirts, describes the fires as roaring like a train. "Possums, wallabies, and sugar gliders are common casualties," she says, recalling a kangaroo that emerged from the flames on fire. Endangered species like the partridge pigeon and black-footed tree rat are also at risk, as are the park's iconic termite mounds, which sustain native animals during breeding seasons.
Tour guide Rob Woods, who has documented Litchfield's changes for over 13 years, finds the situation 'bloody depressing.' "When you look up, 30% of the trees are dead, and the others are stressed," he notes. Fire, whether from gamba grass, native grass, controlled burning, or arson, is the top threat to the park's biodiversity. In the past two years, it has forced evacuations of campgrounds and closures of popular trails, leaving tourists distressed by smoke haze.
But here's the question that divides opinions: Is the NT government doing enough? Country Needs People CEO Patrick O'Leary argues that Litchfield, despite being the territory's 'premier tourist park,' is often overlooked. "If they don’t care about the animals and plants, they should at least care about the safety of families and kids," he says. Tourism operators like Woods believe the problem can be solved, but only with a long-term commitment spanning decades, not years.
Scientists agree that the solution is clear: identify infestations, monitor them, treat them, and repeat. Yet, the challenge remains in securing the political will and funding to implement these measures. As Cass puts it, "The only thing stopping the removal of gamba from Litchfield is will—the will of those in power."
So, what do you think? Is the NT government doing enough to protect Litchfield National Park? Or is more urgent action needed to save this natural treasure? Let us know in the comments below.
