Homo sapien: An Example of Evolutionary Transgression

Insular Divergence in Homo sapien: Flinders Island as a case study.

I am currently flying at 11,582 meters ASL. It is -55 degrees Celsius outside and I am listening to Elgar's Cello Concerto in E minor, Op.85 Adagio. For astute air travelers you will be well aware that I have actually already arrived home, as I simply can't post a Chapter mid-flight without upsetting the cabin crew and getting berated by the Captain.

For the past week I have been chasing my beloved tiger snakes all over the most southern extents of this great southern land, from Mornington Peninsula into the Bass Strait. The focus of my expedition was to capture aspects of insular morphological divergence in populations of this truly amazing snake. More simply, I was looking for differences between populations of the same species of snake that have been isolated from each other over time.

Although I have seen things among the tiger snakes that I have never seen before, the greatest story to be told is of the insular divergence of human beings. The tiger snakes do demonstrate marked shifts in day to day behaviour, but so too do the locals on Flinders Island. And if we on the mainland don't seriously check our behaviour and how we interact with each other, then we may well become the evolutionary back-water to this master race.

The population of Homo sapiens on Flinders Island will simply dominate mainland Australians through their exquisite employ of co-dependence and their natural altruistic tendencies. In short, mainland Australia will implode midst a holocaust of crime, violence and greed, while Flinders Islanders will continue to survive by just being nice to each other.

If you think I am overstating their potential for inter-island dominance please consider the following examples:

As I departed the local super market I observed, on a table quite some distance from the nearest staff member, a raffle prize, a ticket book and a clear, plastic container full of notes and coins. Based on a very quick and subtle appraisal of the contents I estimated that it contained no less than $80. How long has it been since you have observed such trust among town-folk that they could leave that much cash there for the taking? I travel frequently through and among small towns and communities and I have not seen this degree of trust since I was a child.

On arrival at the Flinders Tavern (pictured) on the main street of Whitemark, the Karga7 crew disembarked from the minivan. I must have heard at least three of the crew insist that the doors be locked due to the fiscal value of the cameras, sound and assorted other computer hardware stowed in the van. So taken aback by the tranquility of the place, I stepped out of the kerb-side sliding door and wandered off. Yes - I left it wide open!! Wandering around on the mobile phone more than one hour later I looked at the minivan and realised what I had done. Was anything missing? No.

On the last night on Flinders Island, Kristy, the Manager of the Furneaux Tavern held our dinner (several pizzas) warm for us, kept the tavern open for more than one hour and then served our pizza up, not in boxes, but on plates when we arrived. This was despite us giving her virtually no notice that we were going to be very much later than we had expected. She had nothing to gain from this; it did not matter to her whether we were going to spend more money there that night. The dinner was paid for and she could well have simply dumped it in the garbage when we failed to show up at our designated time. But she didn't.

On our last morning on the island the six Karga7 crew and I were crowding the counter of Freckle's Cafe during the morning rush. We had just lumped Jo (the owner) with a massive order of coffees and breakfast treats. All the while, another four or five locals were already awaiting delivery of their morning shot in the arm. For Flinders Island, this was not the morning rush: this was a morning avalanche of customers comparable only with the Boxing Day bargain hunters pounding down the doors of the major retail outlets.

A lovely lady squeezed passed us with a container of what, to me, did very much look like ice cream. She asked Jo to try her new recipe: Homemade Bacon Ice Cream. Yes - Bacon! We (the Karga7 crew and I) smiled at the lady and then smiled at Jo. Before we even had time to ask, Jo handed out half a dozen spoons and six hands dug in. I won't forget that morning; a little gesture that made a lasting impression.

For the briefest time I felt like a Flinders Islander; now I am, again, just an anonymous passenger wedged into cattle class among 300 of my conspecifics. The effect of geographic separation on island populations of humans has me seriously questioning who has it right; us or them?