High and dry

Wind. Most gardeners hate it. But in this garden, Boat’s End, located on South Australia’s Fleurieu Peninsula (Ngarrindjeri and Peramangk country), wind is the defining feature, along with sloping terrain, impoverished soil and hot, dry summers.

Sarah and Roger Budarick decided they were up for all this when they bought the bare block in 1999, seeking a tree change out of their home city of Adelaide. The drawcards, of course, were the land size (about 16ha) and the view – a sweeping vista of river flats, where Currency Creek and the Finniss River join the lower Murray on its final run to the sea.

“Roger wanted a bigger shed and I wanted a bigger garden,” says Sarah. “We knew this place had its challenges, such as no water – the only water was the water that fell from the sky, and the annual rainfall here is less than 480mm.”

“However, it was at a time when people were talking about climate change and making their gardens drought tolerant, and this was an opportunity for us to experiment with that.”

They had some luck experimenting with indigenous tree species. Various acacias did well, as did pink gums (Eucalyptus fasciculosa). The gums still self-seed freely around the property. Sarah also had success with two pride of Madeira plants (Echium candicans). Initially eaten by cattle, they recovered, flowered and multiplied. Every echium on the property comes from those plants.

The garden is a series of large, richly textured beds dolloped at intervals along the slope and edged by paths of crushed rock. Low growers are interspersed with plants that have good clippable bulk. Some shrubs are left loose and others are hedged into mounds or balls. There are few straight lines, and no hard edges or symmetry.

Sarah stopped trying to manipulate the conditions, and focused on finding plants that felt at home. Those that made the cut include a few Australian natives, but there are more exotics, especially plants from South Africa. Plants such as gazanias, honey flower (Melianthus spp.), Salvia africana-lutea and African wild rosemary (Eriocephalus africanus) have proved easier to grow than natives.

Stalwarts of the Mediterranean garden appear, too, from the vibrant rock rose ‘Brilliancy’ (Cistus x purpureus) to lavenders, rosemary, aeoniums, wormwood and agave – including the huge century plant (Agave americana) with its towering flower spikes.

Any plant that has proven itself is repeated through the garden, either by deliberate planting, wind-blown seeds or bird droppings. Sarah doesn’t mind self-seeders taking up random positions in the garden.

This spirit of acceptance is central to the way Sarah gardens now. Her philosophy is: “Work with what you’ve got. Don’t make massive changes to the soil.” And perhaps controversially, she says, “I question the universal need to mulch.” Over time she has observed that her soil – sand on top of hard clay – is largely self-correcting. Water-repellent through the parched summers, it becomes saturated with winter rains, and that’s taken up by the clay. “If I mulch, rain doesn’t penetrate the soil. So, I don’t mulch.”

Asked if he helps in the garden, Roger and Sarah both nod. “Edges and hedges!” Roger also helps with anything heavy or requiring construction. This means if Sarah has an idea, she likes to run it past her husband. “I almost dread it,” Roger smiles. “Sarah appears and says, ‘Roger, I’ve been thinking…’!”