http://www.theage.com.au/news/National/Tragic-end-to-a-secret-ritual/2004/11/04/\1099547319204.html?oneclick=true
Tragic end to a secret ritual
By Penelope Debelle
Adelaide
November 5, 2004
At 8AM on Wednesday in the rugged mid-north of South Australia, two men drove up
to the house of Yankaninna sheep station owner Paul Doran and asked to use the
phone.
They had been staying on his 560-square-kilometre property on the western flank
of the Gammon Ranges without his permission and Mr Doran told them straight off
they should not be there.
They explained that two of their friends at a campsite 10 kilometres away were
suffering from dehydration. One, Rowan Cooke of Melbourne, was almost comatose
and they needed to get help.
They did not say that the campsite had secretly been used before by members of
the group seeking to re-create the native American ritual of sweat lodges, a
rigorous physical purification used by Indian warriors before going to battle or
to hunt bison.
Nor did they say that Mr Cooke, who has a young son, was the most experienced
sweat lodger of them all and had been teaching them what to do.
"I don't think they thought it was that serious," Mr Doran said yesterday. "They
didn't realise how long it would take to get a helicopter up here. A person who
is severely dehydrated and in a comatose state hasn't really got any time."
Mr Doran's wife, Kylie, phoned the Flying Doctor Service and the Leigh Creek
ambulance. Mr Doran followed the couple back to the campsite where he found Mr
Cooke, 37, lying on the ground wrapped in blankets, struggling to breathe.
"He was in virtually a comatose state, no verbal response, no recognition, very
weak, shallow pulse and breathing erratically," Mr Doran said. "I decided the
best thing to do was to get him into the car as quickly as possible and get him
to the ambulance but by the time they went to seek help it was too late."
With the fatally ill Mr Cooke being looked after in the back of the car by a
female member of the group, Mr Doran headed for the town of Leigh Creek.
About 9am, some 20 kilometres from the town, they met the ambulance and started
to transfer Mr Cooke from one vehicle to another. Lying on a stretcher on the
lonely country road, he died.
The other dehydrated man, Adrian Asfar, 22, also from Melbourne, was in better
shape in the car behind. Able to sit up and occasionally speak, he was taken to
the Port Augusta Hospital.
Yesterday he was struggling to come to terms with the fact that someone had died
after engaging in a ritual that reportedly was celebrating one of the group's
arrival at menopause.
"It's totally tragic, I'm still trying to deal with that," Mr Asfar told Central
GTS-BKN television in Port Augusta. "He was an absolutely beautiful person and
he had such experience in this sort of work. It is absolutely mind-blowing that
if it happened to anyone it happened to him."
Mr Asfar said Mr Cooke was the most experienced of the group and had bonded
before in sweat lodges, called inepis, around the Melbourne area.
"He'd being doing it for years and years and he planned a yearly desert trip and
invited us to come along and learn how to build them ourselves," Mr Asfar told
journalist Alex Hart.
"We all just pitched in a couple of hundred bucks each to cover the trip and
came up, and he taught us how to build them according to traditional native
American Indian style."
Sweat lodge physical and spiritual cleansing sessions have been practised for
years in Canada and the US and are quietly gaining favour in Australia among
alternative lifestylers.
But they are a serious business, said San Francisco sweat lodge veteran Dean
Fernandes, who worked as a web-design consultant to the SA government in the
1990s. He said even the choice of rock was critical because volcanic rock
exploded when it overheated. "It is a really powerful conduit for getting in
touch with the spirit, but it is a dangerous thing to play with physically if
you don't get all the pieces in place," he said.
In a typical session, carefully selected super-heated stones are placed in a
circle of fire inside the small hut, tepee or lodge and the group sits on the
ground, praying or using invocation. The leader splashes water on the heated
rocks, creating intense bursts of steam that can reach 50 to 60 degrees. "It is
very extreme," Mr Fernandes said. "When it flares up you feel like your skin is
on fire."
In this case, Mr Asfar believes toxic steam may have overcome them after the
campsite ran out of fresh water four days ago and took heavily oxidised bore
water from a pump on the station.