15/06/2026
Over the weekend, I felt a strong urge to explore and deepen my understanding of the history of the Indigenous Peoples connected to this land, as well as the history of the previous custodians of 36 Allambee Crescent, Capalaba—now known as Allambee Sanctuary. What I uncovered was both fascinating and deeply moving.
Whilst I was aware that this property sits near a boundary area where neighbouring mobs would gather and meet, I had often felt intuitive whispers that this land may have once been used as a campsite or gathering place.
As I began researching, several discoveries expanded my awareness. For example, I had always believed the property was five acres in size, only to learn that it is actually 2.11 acres. It is on these 2.11 acres that we have recently created camping spaces for people to reconnect with nature, rest, and recalibrate.
Over the years, I have felt strong Indigenous energies moving through the grounds and, more recently, through the campgrounds. There has been a sense of something ancient being remembered—a feeling of the land reclaiming aspects of its original form and purpose. As I learned more about the history of this area, many of those experiences began to take on a deeper significance.
What follows are some of the insights and discoveries that emerged from this journey of exploration and remembrance.
Ancient Roots & First Nations History
• Traditional Owners: The area has been home to the Quandamooka people for over 21,000 years. The lands surrounding Tingalpa Creek were also used by the Yugarabul language groups.
• Etymology: The street name Allambee is an Indigenous Australian word, often translating to "stay a while," "remain," or "dwell," and the suburb name Capalaba comes from the Yugarabul word for the ringtail possum.
1800s: European Settlement & Farming
• Lumber & Clearing: European settlement in the 1850s saw the area cleared by timber-getters and farmers.
• Early Infrastructure: By 1874, the first bridge at "The Rocks" crossing on Old Cleveland Road had been established, opening the Capalaba region to greater traffic.
1960s: Creation of the Reservoir and Semi-
Rural Development
• Reservoir Construction: The landscape of the immediate area changed significantly between 1966 and 1968 when the Tingalpa Reservoir was constructed on Tingalpa Creek.
Please note: Google used the name Leslie Harrison Dam. I know it as the Tingalpa Reservoir, which feels more honouring of the waters and the lands that hold this body of water. Tingalpa derives from Indigenous Australian origins: "Tingal" is said to mean "fat" or refer to a plant used for stupefying fish, while "pa" means "place of" or "plenty." Combined, it has been interpreted as "place of plenty" or "place of the fat kangaroo." (Information obtained from a Google search on the meaning of Tingalpa.)
• Suburban Sprawl: As Capalaba transitioned from a small rural outpost into a rapidly growing Redlands suburb, large acreage blocks were established on the perimeter of the reservoir and waterways.
The Indigenous Borderland & Campgrounds
The area where 36 Allambee Crescent is situated carries deep historical significance as a meeting place and fringe campground.
• The Tribal Borderline: Tingalpa Creek serves as a natural geographic border. Historically, it marked the boundary zone between the Turrbal and Jagera (Yugarabul) language groups of the Brisbane mainland and the Quandamooka people (including the Noonuccal, Goenpul, and Ngugi clans) of Moreton Bay and the Redlands.
• The Meeting Place: Because it was a border, this specific corridor along the creek and its surrounding lagoons acted as a neutral "halfway point" between the coastal saltwater country and the inland woodlands. Different mobs traditionally converged here to trade resources (such as coastal oysters for inland bush meats), conduct ceremonies, and negotiate safe passage through territories.
• The Capalaba Campground: Historical records from the Mapping Brisbane History Project verify that the main Capalaba Aboriginal Camp was located within this area. It remained highly active well into the mid-1890s. Even after European settlement, First Nations people continued to use these pockets along the waterways as sanctuaries to fish, hunt wallabies, and safely camp together while navigating the rapid changes of the colonial frontier.
The 50-Year Owners: The Caretakers of the Bush
When the property was subdivided into an acreage block in the mid-1960s to 1970s, it was purchased by an original family who retained ownership until October 2016.
• The 48-Year Stewardship: The original owners bought the land when Capalaba was still largely unsealed roads and bushland. They built the original three-bedroom home and intentionally chose not to clear or over-develop the 2.11 acres, despite the massive suburban boom occurring nearby.
• A Sanctuary Mindset: Because the backyard bordered the protected Tingalpa Reservoir catchment, the family lived as environmental stewards. They coexisted with the local wildlife—most notably the vulnerable koala populations and ringtail possums that rely on the Allambee Crescent bush corridor.
• Passing the Torch: When the family finally sold the property in 2016, it marked the end of an era. However, that ethos of treating the land as a sanctuary remained. Today, the property operates as Allambee Sanctuary, a community retreat space dedicated to health, peace, and meditation. The modern yurt, cacao ceremonies, and sound-healing events held there continue the land's ancient legacy as a peaceful gathering place for people to connect.
As part of my research, I shared with Google that I am the current custodian of these lands and have been walking alongside the spirits of the land since arriving here in 2020. When I first came to this property, I experienced it as a place carrying heavy and distorted energies, as though it stood at a crossroads between decline and renewal.
Over the past several years, it has been my honour to nurture, restore, and care for this sacred space. Through dedication, intention, ceremony, and a deep connection with the land itself, I have witnessed a remarkable transformation. What once felt burdened has gradually returned to a place of peace, beauty, and harmony.
Today, Allambee Sanctuary feels like a small slice of Heaven on Earth—a place where people can reconnect with themselves, with nature, and with something greater than themselves. Throughout this journey, I have often felt guided by the spirits of the land and those who have walked these grounds before us, supporting the ongoing restoration and remembrance of this special place.
This was Google's response:
"It is an absolute privilege to connect with you. As the current custodian of 36 Allambee Crescent, you are holding a truly sacred and unique piece of Country. The transition of that land from an ancient border meeting ground into a dedicated sanctuary today feels like a natural circle closing."
As I reflect on my time at Allambee Sanctuary, I feel a deep sense that my role here is nearing completion. I was called to these lands, and these lands chose me. Since arriving in 2020, I have been guided through an extraordinary journey of learning, healing, and many activations of remembrance.
Through countless hours spent walking the land, listening deeply, and observing the rhythms of the sun, moon, and earth, I have been shown aspects of this place that have profoundly changed me. I have experienced the energetic pathways of the land, felt the awakening of ancient wisdom, and witnessed a restoration of harmony that seemed to emerge from both the seen and unseen worlds.
The knowledge and understanding that unfolded within me have allowed me to participate in the healing and nurturing of this sanctuary. What was once a place carrying heavy and fragmented energies has gradually become a place of peace, connection, beauty, and renewal.
Now, I find myself sensing the murmurs of change once again. While I cannot yet see the full picture of what lies ahead, I can feel the call of a new chapter emerging. There are places, people, and lands that are seeking restoration, remembrance, and reconnection.
My path has taught me that transformation is possible. Through presence, devotion, compassion, and a willingness to listen deeply, light can be brought into places that have experienced suffering, division, displacement, or neglect. I feel ready to answer that call wherever it may lead.
One of the greatest lessons I have received during this journey is the importance of honouring the wisdom of Australia's First Nations Peoples. Their deep connection to Country, their understanding of relationship, pattern, story, and stewardship offers teachings that are as relevant today as they have always been. There is much we can learn from moving with the land rather than against it, and from recognising that we are all part of a greater whole.
As I look toward the future, I remain devoted to supporting the healing of people and places. If you are caring for land that feels neglected, depleted, or in need of renewal, I would be honoured to share what I have learned through my experiences here. Healing does not happen overnight, but with patience, respect, intention, and love, transformation is possible.
My commitment is simple: to bring love, honour, respect, and conscious stewardship to the places that call for it, and to continue serving wherever my heart and spirit are guided next.
♥️ Oceans of Grace, Johanna
