Nautilus Volume 3, Issue 3 Mar 06

Volume 3, Issue 3
March 2006
We aim for inclusiveness and openness, catering for a diversity of views without rancour.
Opening of the New Somers Fire Station
Police and Emergency Services Minister, Tim Holding officially opened
the Somers Fire Station on Saturday
25th February.
The new station , built at a cost of
$645,000, makes a comfortable and
safer home for the 30 volunteer members of the Somers Fire Brigade. The
brigade had operated out of an older
style station built by the members in
the 1960s, and extended, again by the
members, in the 1970s and 80s
"Volunteering is something people do to help their local and wider
communities, and the volunteers of
Somers Fire Brigade often go above
and beyond the call of duty," Mr
Holding said, pointing out the Somers personnel had combated blazes
such as Ash Wednesday, NSW in the
late 1990s and 2000s, the Campaign
fires in the North East and Gippsland, and recently at Erica, Anakie
and Stawell.
"This new station will help make
their lives while volunteering with
the CFA a little easier."
Other official guests included,
CFA Board Member Peter Marke,
Shire President Brian Stahl, riding
Councillor David Jarman and Andrew Ford the CFA Area Manager,
who noted that the new station was
fast becoming a community hub in
Somers, with various groups using
the meeting room on a regular basis.
Peter Marke dedicated two
plaques to two deceased members of
Captain of the Brigade Bruce McCallum is seen here with the Hon. Tim Holding, Minister for
Police and Emergency Services, unveiling the commemorative plaque during the Opening Ceremony.
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President of the brigade, Bruce Harrison,
in earnest explanatory discussion with the
Hon. Tim Holding on the way that a modern brigade now operates.
the Brigade, who had made great
contributions to the Brigade namely
Stan Byrne and Chester Read, bringing pleasure to family members of
both who were present.
Greg Hunt (MHR for Flinders)
presented Captain Bruce McCallum
with an Australian flag, and Rosie
Buchanan (MLA for Hastings) did
likewise with a Victorian flag - much
to the surprise of Bruce - all the Brigade needs now is a flag pole ...or
three !
The opening was attended by a
large gathering of Brigade members,
community members, and representatives from other Brigades who then
enjoyed an excellent afternoon tea.
David Gibbs
Editorial group:
Louise Craig
Anne Doran
Bronwen Gibbs
Rod Nuske
Marg Tilleard
June Armstrong
Please send all correspondence
to: [email protected]
Or post to:
PO Box 338 Somers 3927
Disclaimer
In the preparation of the Somers
Paper Nautilus (SPN) every effort
has been made to offer the most
current, correct and clearly expressed information possible. In
any event, inadvertent errors can
occur and applicable laws, rules
and regulations may change. The SPN
editors reserve the right to shorten
material and/or to edit material to
fit in to the general space requirements available. All care but no
responsibility is taken for material submitted.
The material contained in SPN is
not intended to serve as specific or finite advice. No warranty
is given in relation to the accuracy or reliability of any information. Readers should not act or
fail to act on the basis of information contained herein.
© Copyright of the material submitted remains with the material’s author.
Nautilus
on the Web.
Don’t forget back issues
of The Nautilus are
available for viewing
at www.somers-nautilus.org.au
Somers
firemen at the
January fires
The following members of the Somers Fire Brigade, Mark Turner,
Alan Thompson, Scott Coxhell,
Garry Lea and Stefan Horvath volunteered to be part of a CFA Strike
Team fighting the fire fronts at
Anakie and Erica. After driving
themselves to the Moorooduc Fire
Station, they were then taken with
members of other brigades to a
briefing at the Dandenong Fire Station and thence by coach to one of
the fire fronts.
Alan and Mark were sent off to
the Anakie fire which had been
started by a lightning strike, to work
a 12-hour shift from 8pm until 8am
mopping up spot-fires, and checking
to see if there were any hot spots left
in the burnt-out homes and sheds.
Mark remembers, “How tiring it was
to be continually pouring water onto
an area where the fire had gone underground, burning the tree and
shrub roots, and where you were
never sure if you had completely
doused the fire or not”. There were
areas where it was not possible for
vehicles to go, so either a bulldozer
was called for or a helicopter
dropped fire-retardant chemicals.
Other work that our members were
called upon to undertake included
cutting trees where they had fallen
and blocked access, and operating a
truck quick-fill site located at a local
dam. Scott did two trips to Anakie
and was involved with property protection and suppressing the metrehigh fire front where at times it was
necessary to bush-bash with their
fire truck as there were no tracks
into the fire. On one occasion their
truck was dispatched to locate a fire
at the back of a house, only to find
the house already burnt down, and
then realize that they had been directed to the wrong house. Steve
ended up working with the Crib
Point tanker that was operating in
the area. We should feel proud of
these young locals who willingly responded to what was at times a serious situation.
Dolphins:
How should we interact?
The excitement of reports of dolphins swimming close inshore at
Somers, has been tempered by a
statement by a local resident who
witnessed swimmers attempting to
hold onto the dolphins so that they
could be towed along. Jeff Weir of
the Dolphin Research Institute at
Hastings, said that it is an offence to
deliberately approach dolphins closer
than 100m in a power boat, 50m on
a surfboard or 30m if you are swimming and that any harassment was
subject to prosecution under the
Wildlife Act. Past prosecutions have
led to fines of over $10,000. These
laws are aimed at protecting dol2
phins. People who are approached
by dolphins have nothing to fear, but
it is crucial that the dolphins control
the interaction and are not harassed
by being deliberately followed or
grabbed at.
So should you see anyone attempting to force a contact or attempt to feed a dolphin, then please
do all you can to dissuade them
from continuing with their endeavours, as long-term harassment
can lead to an inability to breed and
feed and we could lose our local
population.
Rod Nuske
SRA Public Meeting
New Venue, New Topics, New Format
Proves a Success
The Somers Residents Association
(SRA) continued its series of Public
Meetings in a new venue this year.
Previous meetings have overfilled the
Stone Pavilion and this year’s meeting was organised at the Somers
School Camp Hall. Ample seating
was available for all 280 residents
who attended the evening, which
highlighted the Natural Gas reticulation in Somers and local Telstra
Internet and Mobile phone services.
The evening started with a sausage
sizzle provided by Telstra and ended
with residents registering their interest in gas connection with one of the
retailers in attendance.
Envestra, the gas wholesaler who
installs the pipelines for the new services, outlined their program of
works and detailed the timetable for
reticulation of the area. Work has
already started in laying the main
pipeline that will provide gas to most
of the houses in the Village. Gas will
be available to Somers residents in
winter 2007. Homes that fall outside
the designated connection area
should apply through one of the retailers for a special connection costing. All residents will need to make
an application for their property to
be connected and the SRA has the
contact numbers for these suppliers.
Telstra outlined the plans it has
for improving both the coverage of
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mobile phone services and availability of Broadband internet services.
Residents were relieved to find local
and approachable Telstra personnel
who demonstrated a willingness to
solve local problems. Telstra explained the limitations with the existing wiring and committed to providing new fibre optic cabling that
should solve problems within a 6 to
8 month period. The SRA can also
provide contact details for the local
Telstra Team.
Representatives from the Shire
were in attendance at the meeting
and residents had an opportunity to
meet with David Jarman, their new
ward Councillor on the night. Both
the gas and phone suppliers provided hand out material to participants and further details of the content of the presentations can be obtained from the Somers Residents
Association by email at
[email protected]
Vale
Margaret Helen Roffey
(nee Luxton)
29/05/1921-20/11/2005
A love of animals and gardening was
engendered in Margaret’s life, for she
had spent the years of her childhood in the surrounds of the family
Malvern home with its extensive
garden and Alsatian dogs. Not content with the dogs, Margaret also
acquired a pet carpet snake, which
on occasions disappeared into the
springs of the sofa. There were also
the Amazon parrots that would fling
all the pegs off the clothes-line. Primary schooling was at St Margaret’s
School opposite Parliament House.
Later for her secondary education
she became a boarder at Clyde
School in Mt Macedon.
It was here that she began her
life-long voluntary work, by collecting money for the Red Cross at the
Open Gardens around Woodend. At
Clyde she showed a keen interest in
drawing and photography and won
the Camera Club’s Trophy in 1937
and 1938.
Her father purchased Coolart in
1937, and Margaret assisted with the
landscaping and the farm duties
which included the handling of the
eggs from 300 chooks.
In 1939 she accompanied her
parents on a Pacific cruise, and they
had only arrived back home when
war was declared. Margaret volunteered to drive trucks for the Red
Cross, and was required to sleep
with the vehicle in case the Japanese
decided to bomb Melbourne, and
the wounded would need to be
transported to hospital. Seeking
other involvement in the war effort,
she joined the Land Army and
trained at the Longerenong Agricultural College, but decided she would
prefer to be more actively involved
with the country’s endeavours, and
joined the WRANS in 1942 as a
transport driver. The trucks were
coal fuelled, and Margaret found it
difficult to keep her uniform clean
when shoveling coal into the unit,
whilst the sailors just stood there
laughing. The Navy posted her to
WA, where she met and married
Max Woodfine.
In 1945 they came to live at
Coolart in a cottage lacking electricity and hot water, but she loved being back living the rural life, shooting
foxes, smoking bees out of the chimney, or climbing the slate roof to
clean out the gutters. Their children
Jocelyn and Peter were born during
this period, but Margaret was still
able to be a member of the 1951
Balnarring ‘C’ Grade Premiership
Team.
Margaret and Max were divorced,
and then she happily met and married John Roffey. They went to Sydney to live, but in 1968 when her
father died, she and John returned to
manage Coolart. For eleven years
they derived great pleasure from this
task and their life together, before
making the decision to sell the property and move onto an acre block in
Balnarring. There Margaret was able
to enjoy china painting, be involved
with the Craft Group, become a
member of Probus, a foundation
member of the Balnarring Bowls
Club, and of course continue her
work for the Red Cross, which recognized her lifetime support by presenting her with an Award of Merit
at Government House in 2004.
John passed away in 1998 and
Margaret moved into the Mornington Retirement Village.
Despite her ill health, in October
2005 she attended the Somers Primary School’s 75th Anniversary Celebration and was happy to meet and
chat with many friends and acquaintances from days past.
Margaret will always be remembered as a charming lady with a
happy smile and a friend to so many.
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Margaret Ervin
Jensen Ashburner
5/12/1922–10/12/2005
Margaret lived an extremely full life
and had many friends, long-term
commitments to interests and
causes, an enquiring mind and an
ability to nurture others. She grew up
in Albert Park as the only child of a
dedicated medical mother Janet Cooper who was always her mentor and
an example for her to follow. She
spent many hours as a child with a
friend waiting in the car, while her
mother did the rounds of patients in
her practice in Middle Park. It was
evident at an early age that she had a
keen interest in the medical world.
During her youth she learnt ballet
dancing, but an injury forced her to
forgo this and accept the enjoyment
of ballroom dancing instead. A love
of outside pursuits also led her to
horse riding and skiing in the Australian Alps.
Her secondary education was at
the Presbyterian Ladies’ College,
where her gifts for language and literacy skills were instrumental in her
becoming editor of the school magazine ‘Patchwork’. Editorials that she
wrote showed her early understanding of world politics and human
frailty. This led to her dedication to
try to help those less fortunate in
life. Margaret commenced her medical course in 1942, and during the
long summer vacations worked as a
Land Army girl fruit-picking in the
Goulburn Valley. At completion of
her University course, Margaret attained a residency at the Queen Victoria Hospital. She met the
Ashburner family, eventually meeting Francis. Their attraction to each
other eventually led to thoughts of
marriage, which were put off until
1948, so that she could be registered
after qualifying as Dr Jensen. She
continued to work at the hospital in
the Pediatric Outpatient Department
until the arrival of their first child
James in the middle of a heatwave in
1951. Janet, Alison, Richard, and
finally Christopher followed, so Margaret cooked, knitted and sewed for
her burgeoning family. This was also
the time she joined the Folklore
Council of Australian Music, becoming editor of the Gumsucker’s Gazette,
and then with Francis toured Victoria recording folk-songs. After Christopher started school, she took a
residential course in birdwatching
which sometimes caused consternation for the children due to the panic
stops on rural roads to observe some
microscopic far-distant bird.
In 1960 Margaret undertook a medical refresher course and worked part
time as a GP in Malvern and Montrose. Part of her duties was to visit
Nursing Homes, where she became a
long-time friend to many of the patients. The need to find a holiday
venue for the family was fulfilled by
the purchase of a holiday house at
Garden Square in Somers in 1961.
The family discovered the great enjoyment from time spent at the seaside, swimming, looking for crabs on
the rocks, and taking long walks
along the beach. Margaret also found
time to return to riding, but this time
on the dressage horses at Martinshall
in Somerville.
Leaving her work as a GP, she
moved to working at Melbourne
University Student Health. Another
opportunity arose for her to work at
the Melbourne Sexual Health Centre.
This became her fascinating workplace for a number of years.
Throughout her life she attended
church regularly. On retirement they
moved from Garden Square in 1986
to a new home at Coora Close in
Somers and they became involved in
the life of both the Uniting Church
at Red Hill and later at Balnarring.
Her commitment to causes was
strong and unswerving such as the
Victorian Medical Women’s Society,
where she was their representative
for the National Council of Women.
When Henry Bolte had the vision of
Westernport as ‘the Ruhr of Victoria’ in the 1960s, she became an active member of the Westernport and
Peninsula Protection Council.
Margaret was a caring and loving
wife and mother, who appreciated all
living things, had a deep love of literature and ballet, had a firm belief
in God and the Bible, and believed
in working to help others and the
world around her.
A person greatly loved and
missed by her family, Margaret was
admired and respected by all who
came in contact with her during the
life that was so sadly cut short.
Sylvia Maree Herbert
(nee Padgham)
As a person who was born and grew
up in Box Hill, Sylvia was always
proud of the fact that her Great
Grand Uncle proposed the name
Box Hill for the small village on the
way to Healesville. She had a happy
childhood roaming free and riding
horses on the open fields of Box
Hill. Although it was the time of the
Depression, it was typical of Sylvia
and her family that she would take
extra food to school for those children who were in less fortunate circumstances. Sylvia met her Ron at
the Glaciarium ice-skating rink, and
together with their friends, shared
good times until the war intervened.
Ron joined the 2nd 14th AIF Battalion which was sent off to the Middle East where Ron was severely
wounded. At this time Sylvia was
working as a clerk with the supplies
department of Army Munitions.
On Ron’s recovery and repatriation they were married in 1943, and
lived in Box Hill where their children
Ian, Neil, Bruce and Kay were born.
As the children grew she gave them
a love of nature, gardening and the
beach, and as well there were those
wonderful picnics at Warrandyte, or
in the summer, Seaford. Later there
were weekends spent at Balnarring
or with relatives in Somers. In 1961
Ron gave up his job as a quantity
surveyor and bought a hardware
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store in Rye. Sylvia then had the job
of driving up and down to Melbourne to purchase supplies for the
shop, to take Ian to the university,
and Neil and Bruce to work.
In 1970 Ron and Sylvia rented a
house in Somers, but Ron was unable to find work locally, so they
went to live in Ringwood. Ron died
suddenly in 1972, and Sylvia found
work in the medical records office at
the Box Hill Hospital. Finally in
1977 she came back to Somers to
become an active member in a welcoming community. Sylvia became a
‘Pink Lady’ at the Hastings Bush
Nursing Hospital, where she would
say that maybe, just maybe, she
should be slowing down a little . . .
after all she was 85!
Her home was open to relatives
and her many friends, who admired
her prodigious memory for people
and places, and she never left it till
Christmas time to get in touch. The
telephone and the postage stamp
were facilities that she made great
use of. She loved all her grandchildren and they were all very special to
her. Always active and positive, even
in her recent time in hospital, she
organized a benefit collection, collected stamps for the Red Cross, and
pill-containers for school children to
put their paint in, whilst at the same
time crocheting a baby’s jacket for a
niece’s grandchild.
Throughout her life she was quietly courageous and in spite of the
pain she was suffering would always
think of others and joke about her
own misfortunes.
A portion of a poem written and
read at the Celebration of her Life by
her grandson Zac seems appropriate.
Even though you are gone,
a part of you is in me to stay,
And when I think of you now
I know full well,
You’ve made it to heaven,
but you’re giving them hell,
And I look forward to the day
that we are back together,
I may not always have liked you,
But I will love you forever.
Guelda Belle Shackleton
(nee Parker)
January1934 December 2005
Guelda grew up in Camberwell, and
after completing her secondary
schooling, attended the Toorak
Teachers’ College. On completion of
the Primary Teachers’ Course came
the obligatory teaching rounds, after
which she was appointed to the Victorian School for the Deaf in St
Kilda for a period of three years.
She had strong Christian beliefs
and attended church regularly. In
1951 whilst at a Church Youth
Camp at Cowes, Guelda met her
future husband Leo, who was an
engineer with TAA. They married in
1956, and settled to a domestic life in
Pascoe Vale South which included
the birth of their daughter Mardi. At
this time she joined the Women’s
Conventions International and also
became involved in the Interdenominational Bible Study Fellowship Group.
Leo accepted a job with Fred
Laker Enterprises in the UK, for a
period of two years. During this time
Guelda undertook some Primary
School teaching. On their return to
Australia, Hilary and Nerida were
born and there was great activity in
the home with child raising, cooking
for the family and much knitting and
sewing.
Despite this busy time, she was
able to help others less fortunate
than herself, by assisting recent migrants with their understanding of
English and practical matters like
dressmaking.
When Nerida was old enough to
attend school in 1975, Guelda took a
position as Librarian at the Oak Park
High School, and also became Coleader of the Senior Students’ Bible
Study Group. Later when she and
Leo were attending the Church of
Christ in Swanston Street, Melbourne, Guelda took an active part
in the pastoral care of Asian students
for whom she and Leo were often
host parents.
On Leo’s retirement in 1986 they
came to live in Somers, where again
Guelda found time to help others, by
becoming involved with the Hastings Shire program for adults with
poor reading skills.
Guelda gave her life to loving and
caring for her family, and her strong
Christian belief helped to guide her
children and others from her study
of the Bible. Her grandchildren saw
her as an easygoing person who was
always there to listen. Leo has lost a
loving wife and a dear companion.
Leslie Arnold Turner
1936-2005
The family, including Les and his
younger brother, lived in East Malvern. He attended East Malvern
State School and Oakleigh Technical
School. Whilst at school he joined
the army cadets and after finishing
his schooling then undertook his
National Service Training. Later
whilst working in various jobs he
studied accountancy. Les loved sport
and played football with the Carnegie Rovers and then with the Carlton
Reserves. At the same time he loved
soccer and cycling.
Les met Heather at a Saturday
night dance which was a popular
form of entertainment in the 50s and
they married in 1960. Heather remembers that she had in fact met
Les before that dance as he had almost run over her one morning in
his hurry to get to work, and she was
to learn that chronic lateness was a
habit that remained with him all his
life. He studied cost accountancy at
Taylor’s Business College and graduated in 1963. By this time Mark and
Suzanne were born and Lisa a little
later. At the time Les was working
hard to establish himself in this new
profession, and he obtained the
highest recognition when admitted
as a Fellow of the Australian Society
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of Cost Accountants in 1984.
Whilst working for CIG Les was
transferred to Sydney where the family lived for two years before returning to their Vermont home. Les
found time for amateur acting and at
various times in his life belonged to
the Vermont Players and the Peridot
Players. Among his most important
roles were Ernest in Oscar Wilde’s
‘The Importance of Being Ernest’,
and as a lead in ‘The Odd Couple’.
Holidays were spent in a caravan in
Somers and as they grew to love the
area so much, they built a home they
could retire to. Les’s retirement
from his work as a Public Accountant to Somers in 1993, did not mean
giving up work, as he became the
Financial Consultant to the Rosebud
Country Club and provided accounting services and financial advice to
the Somers, Bittern and Hastings
Kindergartens. This did not preclude
his love of sport as he and Heather
were keen tennis players at Somers.
He battled with cancer for a
number of years and Heather and his
family and friends remember him for
his fortitude, his determination to
attempt as much as possible in his
life, and as a man who had his own
way of doing things, but most importantly, a man who cared deeply
for his family.
Robyn Jacelyn Cook
29 September 1955 21 January 2006
Robyn spent her early years in
Malmsbury in central Victoria with
parents Valerie and Noel Rose and
sister Bambi. After her father died at
an early age the family moved to
Forest Hills where Robyn and Bambi
completed their schooling at Nunawading High School. As a young
girl swimming became Robyn’s passion, winning many awards and her
working years were connected
mainly to the insurance industry. In
1985 she married Russell Cook, son
of Edna and Ron Cook of Somers.
They were married in the rose
garden at Coolart Homestead, honeymooned in Tasmania, and went on
to build their first home in Bruce
Street, Balnarring. Two daughters
followed, Rachel in 1987 and Haley
in 1989. As the girls grew Robyn enthusiastically supported their activities during their kindergarten and
primary school years. In 1996 the
family moved to a property in Kennedy Road, Somers, “Rosehill”
where Robyn’s love of gardening,
particularly roses, quickly became
evident.
In 2001 she was diagnosed with
stomach cancer, undergoing a major
operation, followed by chemotherapy
and radium therapy. In June 2005 the
cancer returned, and after a valiant
battle Robyn passed away on 21
January 2006 at “Rosehill” in the
company of her devoted husband
and loving daughters. A celebration
of Robyn’s life was held at Bunarong
Memorial Park which was attended
by 300 family members and friends.
Robyn will be so sadly missed by all.
Learn from yesterday, Live for today
And Hope for tomorrow.
This is what you have taught me
And I will never forget this
for the rest of my life.
Haley Ellen Cook
The Day the Birds
Fell Out of the Sky
There have been just a few days in
my lifetime that have been so hot
that the memory of them has been
burned into my brain. Sunday a few
weeks ago was one of those ‘super
hot’ days.
Each new ‘super hot’ day brings
back vivid memories of those past
hot days and the people that filled
them.
The Saturday of the third week of
December 1951 (the day of my sister’s grand and formal eighteenth
birthday party) was one of those hot,
hot days and the day the birds fell
out of the sky.
Sydney had been experiencing a
heatwave for a week but that Saturday oozed out of the legacy of Friday’s heat without remorse. Every
breath felt as if it had been through
twenty people before you tried to
suck it in.
The pale blue, strapless chiffon
dress, with boned bodice and layers
of skirts hung on the outside of the
wardrobe.
The kitchen was filled with exotic
ingredients and a Caterer.
The glassed-in back veranda with
the polished floorboards had been
stripped of the ping-pong table, the
doll’s house and the spare bed and
was opened up to the dining room
by the seldom-opened French doors.
All superfluous sisters were to be
sent off to stay with relatives once
their usefulness was over; but first
many bags of balloons were to be
blown up!
And so the human bellows were
set to puffing and blowing up the
balloons to decorate the ballroom.
Before there were even thirty balloons rolling on the floor fifteen had
burst from the heat and the bellows
factory was sent down under the
house, into the foundations where it
was cool and dark, to finish the task.
As they were filled the balloons
were tied to the floor joists and there
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they stayed, looking like huge,
bright-coloured frogs’ eggs, until the
sun went down. And only when all
the balloons were blown up did the
blowers come out from under the
house; out into a blast of stunning
sunlight and heat.
For a moment the blowers saw
nothing at all but glare and then as
their eyes became accustomed to the
light they were horrified to see that
there were a large number of birds
lying on the back lawn. Even as they
watched another and another bird
flew out of the blue sky and
dropped, beak open and panting,
onto the grass. Birds were literally
falling out of the sky.
The balloon blowers gathered up
armfuls of birds and clutching these
frail feathery bundles they ran into
the laundry, filled the cement
troughs with a little water and placed
the distressed birds into the troughs.
Then the balloon blowers went back
for more birds.
Some of the precious bundles
did not survive but some came suddenly to life and flew out the open
door of the laundry as if nothing
had ever happened and some fluttered up onto the copper and received ‘showers’ from the ironingwater bottle. Still others flew up
onto the half wall and perched under the iron roof.
The rescue effort continued
throughout the afternoon but the
numbers of distressed birds gradually declined.
The refugees, one by one, flew
off and up into the giant Lilly Pilly
Tree, hiding in its dense dark canopy
until the evening came. And, I wonder, did the rescued birds enjoy
watching that grand Eighteenth
Birthday Ball from the safety of the
huge old Lilly Pilly Tree?
The balloon blowers did not see
the party!
Rosemary Birney
ARCHDEACON (EMERITUS)
GEORGE BROMLEY LUCAS OAM
The above salutation is quite a
mouthful but that’s just how it is; it
came with the job. To his friends
and parishioners, the name’s George.
However, when the last three letters
appeared in the recent Australia Day
honours list, no one was more surprised than the recipient himself. His
beloved wife Dorothy knows something about the nominees but she’s
not saying.
A letter from one of George’s
one-time Curates is telling. “How
lovely, dear George, to see your
name in the LIST. Amazing, that
after all these years of letting all
kinds of ‘bush language’ drop in polite society, they would forgive you
enough to shower you with praise.
Very appropriate.” It should be
noted that some of George’s parishioners have said that George can be
somewhat ‘direct’ in the delivery of
his sermons. He says that he is liberal and catholic in his approach to
Christianity and he firmly believes
that God is, above all, the God of
love.
Anyway, when you see the life of
service to the community that
George has given you can appreciate
how well the above recognition was
deserved.
George was born into an Anglican family in Essendon. He was an
only child and he became involved in
the workings of the local church
from a very early age. Jumping along
a bit, he completed his secondary
education at Melbourne High School
and was a resident at Trinity College
for his tertiary education. George
was ultimately ordained as a priest to
the Anglican Church.
After ordination, George’s first
posting was as Curate to the Parish
of Mildura. On meeting George the
Archdeacon told him he was there to
work and there was to be no hankypanky! This was a hard ask for a virile young man and it became quite
impossible when he spotted a gorgeous girl across a crowded Sunday
school room. Her name was Dorothy and she was a Sunday school
teacher. For George and Dorothy
marriage was desired and inevitable
but they held off until George’s
three-year posting was completed.
They left Mildura for their next post8
ing as a married couple.
George and Dorothy spent many
years working in country parishes.
The first one was in Sealake where
George was sent as Rector. This was
a typical country parish. It covered a
wide area and had four main centres
including a vibrant Anglican community living around a town called Berriwillock. More moves followed
within a career path that took them
through Charlton, Cheltenham, then
a major posting at St George’s, Malvern. The family now included four
children, Lynn, Barbara, Peter and
Megan. Dorothy says that the Vicarage at St Georges was huge. She was
working as Secretary and as such,
she had quite a complex organization
to deal with. It’s worth noting that
Dorothy certainly had plenty of energy of her own. Later when stationed in Frankston and with the
children off their hands Dorothy
decided to use some of the experience she had gained over the years in
church pastoral work. She joined
Graham Crawley in Mornington and
became one of the first female funeral directors in Australia.
Getting back to Venerable
George’s ‘OAM’ award. It was given
for ‘Service to the Anglican Church’.
It might well have said, ‘for services
to the community through the Anglican Church’ because it was in the
general community that George devoted a great deal of his time. For
instance: (the then) Archbishop
Woods set up an organization called
‘The Inter Church Trade and Industry Mission’. His idea was that there
were many people, unionists, apprentices and factory workers who
could be reached by the Anglican
Mission directly at the workplace.
The idea ‘clicked’ very well and in
time, the mission went Australia
wide. George as Industrial Chaplain
was central to the work of this mission in Victoria. He was also for a
time, Police Chaplain. George also
became highly enthusiastic about
and involved in the work of the
Brotherhood of St Lawrence. He
liked the idea of ‘helping the poorest
of the poor’ and generally being able
to help people in great difficulties.
In what was left of his time
George served as Chairman of the
Board of Malvern Girls’ High School
and he was on the Boards of St Michael’s Grammar, Firbank and Peninsula Grammar Schools. (George
would now be saying, “that’s
enough!”)
OK! So what of the Somers connection?
While Archdeacon at St George’s,
Malvern, George and Dorothy came
down to Somers for a parish function and they were impressed. Subsequently they bought a small house in
Wills Road. It should be remembered that the Lucas family never
needed a house of their own; houses
came with the calling so to speak. So
this was their first house. However,
it was too small to retire to and for
some time they had been looking at
a house at the rural end of Kennedy
Road. When it came up for sale they
bought it and there they shall probably live happily ever after. Following
their official retirement, George and
Dorothy spent many years taking up
locums in far-flung parts of country
Australia. They love the open spaces
and so you can understand why they
like their eyrie in Somers. Fields
stretch beyond the windows and the
cattle are lowing. What more could a
couple of retired people wish for?
Of course, as a priest you never stop
being a priest and George still gets
asked to help out with services in
nearby parishes. And Dorothy’s fingers are certainly not idle. She is a
member of the long-established Somers Craft Group and is noted for
her remarkably fine embroidery
work.
So the OAM is welcome to
George and Dorothy as recognition
of a life’s work in the community
and coincidentally, they have recently
celebrated their fiftieth wedding anniversary. But for all that, the thing
that Dorothy and George value most
is their family of children, including
their in-laws and grandchildren.
They all get on splendidly and with
love.
Barry Merton
SOMERS PRIMARY SCHOOL
In late 2005 Somers Primary School
entered a competition run by Safeways titled, ‘Your school’s or individual student’s involvement in the
community’.
Steven, the Manager of Safeways
presented the school with the winning prize to School Captain Jarrod.
The prize had the students very excited as it included a day for 17 students and two adults to the Commonwealth Games basketball.
Over the past two years, the students at Somers Primary School have
been involved in growing, planting
and caring for plants in the Somers
area.
“It’s great the school is being recognised for the environmental assistance they do in the Somers area,”
said Stephen Wilkinson, Principal of
Somers Primary School.
“This is a great opportunity for
our students. We may never see the
games in Australia again, let alone
Melbourne. This will be an occasion
those that go will always remember.
The only difficulty will be selecting
who to take.”
BALNARRING VILLAGE HARDWARE
HOURS
Mon - Fri 8-6
Sat - Sun 9-4
Pub Hols 10-2
Shop 27/3050
Balnarring Village
Ph/Fax 5983 1404
9
Road Safety
for Seniors:
Car Park at Somers Yacht Club
Strategies to reduce your risk
of being involved in a motor
vehicle accident.
Somers Neighbourhood Watch has
arranged for this innovative program
to be conducted in Somers.
Wednesday March 22nd at 11am
at RW Stone Pavilion, Camphill
Road, Somers.
The program serves as a refresher
on road rules, increases awareness of
road safety issues, provides defensive
driving and safety tips for drivers,
passengers and pedestrians.
Information is provided by
trained personnel through video,
discussion and presentation.
Bookings are not required and
attendance is free, however a gold
coin donation to help fund
Neighbourhood Watch would be
appreciated.
A meeting was held on February 10
in the Public Car Park beside the
Somers Yacht Club to discuss the
limited parking space in the car park,
and what could be achieved to meet
the needs of the general public and
the requirements of the Department
of Sustainability and Environment.
Those present at the discussion in-
SOMERS GUIDES
Guiding began in Somers twenty-five
years ago. During this time the group
has given guidance and recreation to
many girls throughout Somers and
surrounds. Junior Guides, previously
known as Brownies (but now politically incorrect or unsuitable due to
schoolyard jokes!) provides activities
and friendship for girls aged 6 – 10,
with Guides ranging from 10 – 16.
After this age girls can choose to
continue in Guiding in a number of
ways. Lifelong friendships or love for
an activity (such as my love for
camping) have been born from time
spent together in guiding groups.
Now, Somers is in need of help.
Leaders are retiring after many years
of selfless giving of their time and
care, and we need new leaders and
helpers to continue this tradition.
One would have to admit that activities for children in Somers are few,
so please help keep this one alive by
contributing your time.
No previous guiding experience
is necessary. Leaders need to be female, aged anywhere between 16 and
106 and have a keen sense of humour and enjoy working with wonderful girls and women. You will be
given training, guidance and support
and will be provided with friendship,
respect and the joy of giving and
helping. We need Unit Helpers and
Qualified Leaders. To become a
10
cluded Rebecca Hyland and Dennis
Cox from DS&E, John Hatton
Commodore SYC, Chris Howard
and Carl Carthy from the Foreshore
Committee (left to right in photograph), Mark Soon of the Shire, Jim
Enever of the SYC and Peter Hohaus from the Foreshore Committee.
Qualified Leader you must meet with
a guiding partner/mentor and attend
some training sessions (one or two
days), have a current positive police
check, hold level 1 first aid or higher
qualification. If we can secure a new
Leader or two, as well as a Unit
Helper or two, then we can begin to
invite Somers girls into our group.
The girls love to meet new members,
make new friends, learn new skills and
generally have a fun time together.
Please contact the current remaining Leader (recently promoted to Assistant Region Leader) if you are interested in either helping out with Leadership or joining as a Guide. We
would love to have you join our team.
Contact Julie Bryant
Phone: 5983 1639
or Email [email protected]
Del Skinner
Patience Pays Off For
Somers Tennis Club
Patience is said to be a virtue and the
members of Somers Tennis Club
and their officers certainly displayed
patience in abundance for 16 years as
they struggled to obtain funding for
a third court for the club at the R.W.
Stone Reserve.
The patience and perseverance
eventually paid dividends when the
club officially opened its smart new
court on December 4 completing the
club’s move from Garden Square.
More than 30 people attended
the opening ceremony to hear secretary Park Shiel outline the saga of
negotiating with the then Hastings
Council and then the Shire of Mornington Peninsula to obtain a grant
towards the new court.
He outlined some of the behind
the scenes negotiations that went on
to secure a grant for the new court
including the proposed sale of the
old courts in Garden Square and the
loss of the club’s original submission
for funding which “disappeared”
when the council amalgamation took
place under the Kennett Liberal government.
“It was a struggle to get where we
are today,” Park said after the opening. “But it has been worthwhile.”
Club president Graeme Wilson
officially welcomed the guests. He
also welcomed life members including Ray Stone and his wife Brenda.
The R.W. Stone Reserve was named
after Ray’s father and Ray himself
was an ardent member of the club
for decades. “My father would have
been proud of what is here today,”
Ray said.
Graeme had a special mention
for the Wednesday mid-week ladies'
team for taking out the pennant in
section 6 recently after finishing the
previous season at the bottom of the
ladder. He and Park then led guests
out on to the court for photographs
and inspection.
The new court, built with the
assistance from donations made
through the Australian Sports Foundation, is low maintenance synthetic
grass and has lights for night tennis.
Further donations to pay off the outstanding debt on the court would be
appreciated and can be made
through the Australian Sports Foundation by contacting the secretary,
Park Shiel.
As well as opening the new court,
Somers Tennis Club Inc. has recently been granted a licence to serve
liquor which will soon be available
once a refrigerator is installed and
necessary work is completed at the
clubhouse.
For further information:
Park Shiel 5983 1505
Graeme Wilson 5983 5036
Tony Duboudin 5983 1360
or 0412 551981
Somers Tennis Club Inc. Secretary, Park
Shiel, and President, Graeme Wilson,
shake hands before inviting members and
guests to inspect the new court at the opening
ceremony at R.W. Stone Reserve, Somers,
on Sunday 4 December 2005.
We are sad to note
the recent death of
Don Lee
On Friday 24th Feb
11
Somers Residents Association Wins
Council Funding for Petanque Courts
To date, all work has been funded and
provided by volunteers over three years. The
gravel for the court is being funded by the
members of the new Somers Petanque Club.
Conclusion
On 30th January this year, Somers
Residents Association (SRA) committee members Rob Egan and Ron
Kempster attended a Mornington
Peninsula Shire Council meeting to
receive a cheque for $1800 to finance the completion of Petanque
Courts in Garden Square.
The SRA had successfully applied
for a grant under a Community Partnership Agreement and the details of
this agreement are reproduced below
as it succinctly explains the reasons
for the grant application.
Community Partnership Agreement between Mornington Peninsula Shire Council and the SRA
Introduction and Project
The SRA has been supporting the
Friends of Garden Square (FRoGS)
Group to help develop Garden Square in
Somers. The FRoGS Group was formed in
2003 following broad community concern
about the future of Garden Square and the
desire of the Somers community to reinvigorate the Park. The community expressed a
desire for access to the Park to be opened up
to all residents and recreational activities for
all established. Over the past three years,
one tennis court has been opened up for
anyone to use at any time and the surrounds have been weeded, mulched and
planted with native grasses – all through
volunteer input. The second tennis court
fence has been removed and the FRoGS
Group wants to establish three petanque
courts for the community.
Rationale for Petanque
• Can be played by anyone equally well.
People in wheelchairs can be as competitive as able bodied people.
• There is no maintenance other than
occasional raking.
• It is inexpensive.
• It is already being played on inadequate
surfaces in the area. There are many
who would form a club when courts are
ready and the local primary school is
interested in using the facility for children’s outdoor activities.
Project
• Development of three petanque courts.
• Provision of wide bench seating for
petanque players and other family picnics.
Councillor David Jarman (left) hands a funding cheque to SRA President Ron Kempster and
FRoGS co-coordinator Rob Egan.
12
This is an excellent example of social capital and community building that benefits an
entire community.
The FRoGS Group led by Sue
and Rob Egan, Rod Nuske and Graham Martin has worked very hard to
provide this community benefit and a
number of other Somers residents
have volunteered their time and specialised equipment.
This grant will be used to purchase the necessary raw materials and
thanks must go to Dave Pullin who
has offered to construct the picnic
benches.
Peter Murray has also been very
generous in agreeing to fund the purchase of the special gravel needed for
the petanque courts.
With this grant and some more
working bees, SRA and FRoGS will
soon be able to complete the petanque courts and their facilities and all
contributors deserve to be congratulated.
Peter Murray has established the
‘Garden Square Petanque Club at
Somers’ and residents are welcome
to contact him about joining, by writing to him at PO Box 12, Somers
3927, or by telephone on 5979 4488
in business hours or after hours on
5983 1205. The club is grateful to
Petanque Victoria for advice on this
project and on forming a club.
Somers Yacht Club Participates
in Western Port Challenge
Colourful racing yachts set off from Balnarring beach
Western Port Challenge, held on Saturday 21st January 2006, was hosted
by Western Port Yacht Club at Bal-
narring Beach. On behalf of host
WPYC Bruce Douglas said: "All the
competitors enjoyed themselves. The
13
commitment of support by the competing clubs shows that there is
strength in the relationships between
the clubs on the bay towards the
provision of a comprehensive array
of sporting events, to suit all
tastes. Light and fluky winds test the
patience and skill of everyone and it
is under conditions like these that the
very best sailors show what they are
made of."
The Somers Yacht Club sent 43
off-the-beach sailboats to compete in
the annual Western Port Challenge.
Somers Commodore John Hatton
explained: "This Challenge is for all
Western Port Yacht Clubs and is run
in two sections, one for adult sailors
and one for under 21 YoungerSet
sailors. This year Merricks Yacht
Club was the winner of the senior
section with Somers Yacht Club winning the YoungerSet section. This
annual event is a wonderful spectacle
on Western Port Bay with 96 boats
competing. In 2007 Somers Yacht
Club will be host to this Challenge".
Peter Hohaus
BALNARRING
VILLAGE MEATS
A lot of you already know me and my wife Melanie.
To those of you who don’t, let us introduce ourselves. We purchased Balnarring Village Meats
butcher shop and have worked on both sides of the
peninsula for many years. Our commitment to supply our customers is of a very high priority to us.
Mark will bring all of his past knowledge in store so
look out for our quick and easy meals or may we
tempt you with some of our gourmet lines for that
special occasion, or maybe just a BBQ is what you
are after. Whatever your choice our team will always do their best to assist you in your selection.
Next time you are in our shop take a good look
around and see what’s different.
We are introducing in store a large range of
•
Organic beef with a wide variety of cuts
•
Chemical Free and Free Range Chickens
•
Free Range Pork in all cuts
•
Range of game meats e.g. quail, crocodile,
kangaroo, buffalo
•
Fresh fish is always available with a large
selection available on request e.g. crayfish,
prawns, oysters
•
A wide range of traditional and gourmet cuts
•
•
•
Spit Hire available
We also make a range of salads on request
•
•
•
Bring in your favourite knives for Mark to
sharpen them .
And don’t forget the over the counter chat!
•
•
•
Mark and Melanie Pittock
Shop 16 Balnarring Village Shopping Centre
All plumbing maintenance
Gas appliance repairs and installations
New homes and extensions
HWS replacements
Cold water pipe renewals
Roofing guttering and downpipes
Running taps and toilets etc.
Prompt & reliable
Call Richard 0417138616
Ph.5983 1310 Mob.0439 858482
14
Travel Memories
Travel can become a great hobby. In
recent years caravanning around
Australia has given us an appreciation of the diversity and beauty of
this huge continent. One major
benefit: you cannot explore beaches,
forests or mountain ranges without
meeting people, some so unusual
that they become unforgettable.
Pigs that flew
Arriving at any scenic township it
is our routine – after having Devonshire tea – to visit the Information
Centre.
Apparently we had just missed
the flower show and Spring Festival
at this mid-size town some 200 km
north of Perth. “But if you are interested in nature we have the famous
naturalist Brian who does daily trips
to inspect his ‘Pig’ traps – he’ll be
happy to take you along.” Heidi, forever keen to explore nature, nodded
acceptance. I too was lured by the
prospect to see how Brian would
deal with feral beasts.
The stern-faced Brian was obviously a serious scientist, rather than
a tour guide, and seemed pleased to
have company in his all-terrain
truck. Apart from fire brigades,
Brian was the only key holder to
local wilderness and catchment areas. Surprisingly, instead of any
strong ropes and firearms he
brought a bag of scones and a flask
of tea.
At our first stop Brian grabbed a
thick folder and a tape measure.
Yes, we too were allowed to leave
the truck. My camera was ready to
capture any wildlife spectacular.
We soon came to a clearing, and
while Heidi and I tiptoed through
the wilderness of nature, Brian whistled a happy tune. He knelt down,
brushed leaves and sand aside and
unearthed a plastic jar. “I knew he
would return,” beamed our naturalist, as he pulled a small frog from the
jar. “This little fellow has one leg
missing,” and Brian proceeded to
measure the remaining legs and entered the data in his black book. “A
great find,” mumbled Brian, who
then carefully checked, measured
and recorded the remaining assorted
bugs and beetles in other plastic containers, all in front of low net barriers. Apparently these were the ‘pig’
traps.
Was he kidding? Where are the
wild boars? “You’ve just seen the
first of my five PIT traps! The rest
will be just as exciting!”
My expectation collapsed like a
burst balloon. Had we come all this
way to assess the health of assorted
creepy crawlies?
Before the next ‘riveting’ pit trap,
a world away from my imagined pig
trap, a large grey kangaroo crossed
our path, with a joey peeping out of
Mum’s pouch. This was my opportunity to lighten the scientific research
mood and tell a mild, but fitting
joke: “Why do female kangaroos
hate rainy days?” No reply from
Heidi or Brian. “That’s because
when it rains, the little kangaroos
want to play inside!”
Heidi’s response was a nervous
giggle, but Brian kept his stern eyes
on the road and simply stated
“there is no scientific basis to such
claim!” He sensed my obvious lack
of interest in pure science and
casually warned me not to sit on
the brown ex-PMG mailbag next to
me containing 12 poisonous
snakes.
I’d had my fill of nature and science. Our parting was frosty. Brian’s
“maybe we’ll meet again sometime”
triggered my response, “unless your
snakes get one of us first”.
Life is sweet!
The last village before the Gulf of
Carpentaria, proudly promoted its
two special features: glorious sunsets
15
over the Gulf, to be enjoyed with
thick, juicy Barramundi! What a brilliant combination, grilled Barra in
the setting sun! They had overlooked
another treasure: Rudi, the Austrian
pastry cook!
His tiny garage-like shop and
bakery made of corrugated tin could
have easily been mistaken for a
worm farm or even a public convenience. With no advertising signs
and a 10-minute walk from anywhere, who was to know that this
dark-green metal shed harboured a
wizard of sweet creations? Wall
panels were plastered with enough
certificates to indicate that Rudi was
a master of the pastry trade. His
narrow display case was piled high
with samples of his craft. His Austrian heritage was reflected in snowcapped Torten, with deep valleys of
dark chocolate – any weightwatcher’s nightmare.
Rudi claimed pseudo-noble heritage, having created sweet delights
for royalty at several Pacific islands
and, yes, he might be responsible for
the sizeable girth of certain royal
heavyweights.
Working in the metal shed in this
tropical climate had to be hell, yet
Rudi kept on saying “Life is sweet”.
Rudi was obviously proud of his
baking skills and claimed he could
produce overnight any cake known
around the world.
Well, here came the test: could he
perhaps bake a ‘Friesland New Year
cake’? This used to be the ultimate in
my Mother’s baking repertoire. “Call
back in the morning, after 10 am,”
was Rudi’s response.
Sure enough, at 10 am there was
the pride of North German baking
skills, sitting on Rudi’s counter.
Shape, taste and even the quaint
smell were authentic. Of course, this
was neither Friesland nor was it New
Year, yet I could taste my Mother’s
touch in Rudi’s creation.
“I don’t know how you can possibly remember all of the most unusual recipes,” I marvelled.
Rudi’s reply was apt: “Piece of
cake my friend, piece of cake.”
Helmut Janssen
SHORT STORY
COMPETITION WINNERS
The winners of the 2005 competition are:
Jarrah Wynne (aged 7) for ‘Sundun, the Land of Crygots’; Tessa Rafaniello
(12) for ‘Strings of Wisdom’; no winner for 13-16 years category; an Honourable Mention to Tahnaya Wynne (10) for ‘Mer River’; and Craig Mason has
again won the adult section with his story ‘Lightning’. Congratulations to all the
winners and thanks to all of you who submitted entries.
Thanks also to Garry Disher for judging.
All the above stories will be published in the Paper Nautilus, starting in this
issue with ‘Lightning’ by Craig Mason. There will be another competition towards the end of this year, so start writing now for your chance to be in it!
Louise Craig
LIGHTNING
“Albert, what the bloody hell are you
doing?” yelled Dan as he turned the
lights on in the shearers’ quarters at
Macquarie stud. Everyone else in the
quarters had woken up because of
the disturbance and was either sitting
up in bed laughing or complaining
and telling Dan, to “Turn the bloody
lights off you fool”.
The sight that confronted the
sleepy shearers at 2:30 in the morning
was Albert, the oldest man in the
crew, kneeling beside his bed, all
twenty stone of him, naked, with a
cat in one hand and one of his
shower thongs in the other. He had
the cat held high above his head in
his left hand and a black rubber
thong, made from an old car tyre in
his right. His head was towards the
wall and his rather large hairy arse
was pointed straight at Mal.
Mal was the gun shearer of the
crew; he could shear forty-eight merino rams in a run and all of them as
clean as a whistle. Mal sat up in bed
as the lights were turned on and got
an eyefull of Albert. The sight of Albert naked and on his knees was not
something any living creature would
want to survive, let alone from be-
hind and in the company of fifteen
other men. “Christ Bert, what the
bloody hell, are you playing at?” said
Mal in his slow voice.
Albert ignored the questions and
rude remarks the now fully awake
shearers were throwing at him. He
continued to hold the cat high in one
hand and although the cat didn’t
look too comfortable it continued to
flick its tail from side to side with a
self-satisfied pride and pleasure.
Jamie, the youngest man in the
crew (or perhaps the oldest boy),
who had just turned fifteen and had
only been with the crew eight weeks,
was the only one who showed any
concern for Albert.
“Albert are you alright?”, he
called from the far end of the quarters as he rose from his bed and began walking towards the old man.
It was with a sense of shame and
embarrassment that Jamie walked
towards him, but also with a degree
of loyalty and genuine concern, as it
had been Albert who had taken Jamie under his wing on the first day
he was with the crew. Albert had
told him who in the crew was safe,
who not to play cards with and who
16
he should never lend money to, as
well as a few other useful things, and
so it was with this sense of debt that
Jamie walked up behind the old man
kneeling on the floor.
Standing there Jamie could
see that the back of his neck was
covered in sweat and there were
beads starting to run between his
shoulder blades, which because
his arms were raised had made a
deep valley in his back. Jamie
leaned forward to ask Albert if
he was feeling okay, but as he
leaned he saw something that
made him leap backwards, as if
his whole body was a mousetrap
and the sight in front of Albert
had triggered it.
Jamie’s leap backwards took all
the other shearers by surprise and
added a serious tone to the room.
No longer were they joking or calling
for the light to be put out, but instead all were rising and making their
way down to Albert’s bed.
Jamie, who had landed flat on his
arse and hit his head on the foot of
Mal’s bed, jumped to his feet and fell
backwards onto the bed that Mal
was still in and clawed his way back
all the while stammering “Shit, shit,
shit”. Mal grabbed the lad to stop
him from climbing over the top of
him and up the wall, throwing him
roughly to the floor as he moved out
of his bed.
In a flash Jamie was back on the
bed. Standing on Mal’s pillow he
pointed down to Albert and with a
look of terror on his pale face, stammered out, “B, B, Bloody big snake”.
Mal walked over to Albert and
looked over his shoulder. Sure
enough there on the floor in front of
Albert was a six-foot-long brown
snake, most of its body pushed up
against the wall and its head, which
looked as if it had been chewed a bit
by the cat, raised to strike. The
snake’s head moved from side to
side like a reversed pendulum and in
time with the cat’s tail.
“Shit, Bert, that’s a decent one,”
said Mal as he scratched his chin and
assessed the situation. By this time
most of the shearers were out of bed
and had moved in closer to have a
look.
It was Alby, a twenty-one-yearold smartarse that could shear better
than most and enjoyed telling others
about it, who spoke first: “I bet it
bites his old fella”. The other shearers had a laugh at this remark, but
stopped when Mal said: “Twenty
bucks says he’ll kill it”.
Alby thought for a second, but
only a second: “Fifty says he gets
bit”.
“A hundred says he kills it in one
blow,” said Mal.
“You’re on,” said Alby.
Every man in the quarters stood
in silence and watched, the snake’s
head and upper body moving hypnotically back and forward in time
with the cat’s tail, Albert frozen like
some ancient statue holding the severed head of an opponent in one
hand and his unsheathed sword in
the other; no one moved, hardly a
breath could be heard, the cat purred
and continued swinging its tail, the
snake continued to follow it.
Unable to control his fear any
longer Jamie, who was still standing
on Mal’s pillow, whispered, “Kill the
bloody thing, please”.
At the sound of Jamie’s voice in
the silent quarters the cat pricked its
ears and stopped waving its tail. Seeing the cat’s tail stop the snake
lurched back to strike. As its head
began to travel forward its mouth
opened to reveal the delicate pink
inside. The next instance its head
was crushed against the hard edge of
Albert’s thong. His right arm had
brought the thong down like a bolt
of lightning and had caught the
snake in mid flight and knocked it to
the floor, but such was the strength
and accuracy of Albert’s blow that it
continued to follow the snake’s descent and caught up with it at the
same moment it hit the floor and
crushed its skull, almost severing it
just behind its eyes.
The speed at which Albert struck
made all the men jump in fright.
Only Mal remained firm and while
the other men bumped into each
other, he reached forward and took
the cat from Albert and placed it on
his bed.
Albert rose to his feet, dropped
his thong and put it on. Turning towards the men he walked to the aisle
between the two ranks of beds and
made his way to the end of the
building. Opening the fridge in the
corner he took out a stubbie, opened
it, drank it in one breath, placed the
empty on top of the fridge and
walked naked back to his bed.
The other shearers stood in silence watching first the snake, its
body still flicking wildly, then Albert,
his fat hairy belly wobbling with each
step he took back to his bed, his
black thongs clicking behind. The
men were trying hard to believe that
what they had just seen had actually
happened.
Albert stopped at the foot of his
bed, looked at Alby and said in a
voice that gave nothing away,
“Never bet against me son”. Alby,
with an embarrassed look on his
face, never even saw what hit him
and Albert for the second time that
night struck like lightning and laid
the young gun out cold.
Albert turned and stepping over
the still writhing snake climbed into
his bed. The rest of the shearers
went back to their beds, and leaving
Alby lying on the floor, Dan dragged
a blanket off Alby’s bed and threw it
over him before turning the lights
off.
“Good night men,” said Albert
and the room was quiet.
Craig Mason
It’s bad news
to lose a friend
My niece and her daughter were grieving
sadly over Christmas having had to put
down their beloved little friend of eleven
years. I wrote this poem for them and I’m
sure all those who really love their dogs will
share the feelings expressed here.
They come in sizes big and small.
Some are tiny, some are tall,
and if you take one to your heart
you’ll have true friendship from the
start.
Your friend will stay through thick
and thin,
most often with a huffing grin –
will follow anywhere you lead
no matter if you don’t succeed.
In everything you’ve tried to do
your canine friend will stay with you.
Seven years to human is their life,
goodbyes come for us too soon.
With broken health that will not
mend,
it’s real bad news to lose a friend.
I feel the heart just as you do –
I know the pain, I share it too.
Nothing can be done to help them
stay
your love remains as they pass away.
Sue Templeton
D.M. HOLDEN
PLUMBING SERVICES
(Lic. No. 28534)
21 Beach Hill Ave. Somers
0408 522 534
All General Plumbing - Gasfitting and Roofing – (Fully Licensed)
Sewer Connections – What are the options for your old septic tank?
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Environmentally Friendly Advice – (Be seen to be Green!)
Rainwater Tanks – Drinking water, garden watering & toilet flushing
Solar Hot Water – Utilise renewable energy from the sun in summer
and your slow combustion heater for winter hot water.
$ave energy and money – Call Dave, for further information.
17
So you want to run
a bed and breakfast?
Part two: (Almost) true stories from the files.
Making the Sound of ‘HUD’
Lara was Irish; tall, very well knit
and wearing a light greenish floral
dress; she had good cheekbones,
freckles and shoulder-length light
red hair, and a lovely lilting accent.
She was, as it turned out, a medical
professional and her age was north
of forty and she was all the better
for it.
He, on the other hand, was well
south of forty, a real Indian type
Indian, tall, elegant with a well
shaped head with a crown of soft
black hair framing a very handsome
face with earnest clear eyes and
flashing white teeth.
The landlady of the house who
we shall call Monge (so named after
blancmange, her house specialty),
was most taken with the Indian man
but the landlord who we shall call
Plinth felt thoroughly threatened.
His unease was not helped by the
sight of Monge leading the couple
down the passage. She kept looking
all bright eyed at the Indian. She reminded Plinth of the pullets out in
the yard, the way they clucked and
kept looking over their shoulders
when the rooster was padding up
behind them.
The truth was that Plinth’s curiosity was fully aroused by this combination in black and gold. It had
just so happened that some years
past he had secretly purchased a
copy of the Karma Sutra and he had
read it from cover to cover. To begin
with he studied it in the hope that he
might be able to rekindle things between himself and a former love. In
18
the event, it was all too late but he
kept going with the book, hoping for
more spicy bits. One episode which
caught his attention went something
like this: In order to re-activate matters between your wife (partner) and
yourself you should borrow or hire a
full-on cavalier’s uniform, epaulettes,
tinkly medals and a plumed hat. Do
not forget the sword. Wait till evening and lurk in the garden until
your wife (partner) has gone to bed.
When she is in the cusp between
waking and sleeping you must leap
through the window (being careful
not to fall on your sword), stand at
the foot of the bed, tweak your
moustache and utter the sound of
‘HUD’, very loudly. Your wife
(partner) will almost certainly faint
but you should interpret this as a
sign that she has been overwhelmed
with desire. The rest is up to you.
Anyway, Plinth never tried the
above. It was all too late, he didn’t
have a moustache to twirl and he
was sure his lady would just burst
out laughing.
But this weekend he was on full
alert, waiting to hear the sound of
‘HUD’. It never happened and why
should it? When Plinth considered it,
that man in there needed no adornments, in fact he probably spent the
whole weekend completely unadorned.
No wonder Plinth was becoming
an old grump. As he mopped up the
bathroom he reflected that all his
guests were bent on pleasure while
his existence was to be bent over,
cleaning up after them.
The Cupboard Lover
Breakfast tray in hand, Monge
knocked on the door discreetly but
with persistence and she was answered by a musical female voice.
She entered and noted that the bathroom door was open and the facility
was unoccupied. Her eye-line was
then drawn into the suite and to the
bed and there, sitting mid-ships was
a vision of dishevelled loveliness.
She was smiling impishly and when
Monge asked where her brute was
the imp nodded her head in the direction of the built-in wardrobe. One
of the doors was drifting open and a
hairy hand was seen scritching at the
wood trying to hold it back. All this
did was to cause the door to swing
wide open and there he was, Adonis
of the hanging coats and shirts, most
of the latter dislodged from the rails
and drooping across his shoulders.
His hands were crisscrossed over his
fig leaf area and he was calling his
lover’s name in a pleading voice.
This was too much for the girl. She
burst into shrieks of laughter. Feeling that she was now engaged in
something beyond her control,
Monge dropped the tray on the table
and fled. As she re-entered the
kitchen she smiled and said, “Oh
boy! What sights have I just seen!”
Shared Accommodation
As Monge set off for a quick visit to
the store she asked the elderly couple
in the front flat to look out for a
young couple who were due to arrive. “That’s fine,” said the elderly
lady. “We’ll keep them amused.”
On her return Monge noted the
small car parked outside which indicated that the new people were inside. So she knocked and entered the
front flat. Sitting in their easy chairs
were the elderly couple and both
were smiling primly. The room was
provided with a queen-sized bed and
a single bed and there, sitting on the
single bed were the young couple,
and they looked far from happy.
The old lady piped up. “Now
Monge dear,” she said, “I have explained to these young people that
Bert and I were here first so we get
the big bed and they will have to
share the single bed.”
At this point the girl let out a sob.
For just a moment Monge was so
struck by this audacity she was lost
for words. And then they came.
“You old devil!” she cried. “You
mean to say you’ve been telling these
young people they’re sharing the unit
with you?”
It was a very relieved young couple that were led away and shown
into their own comfy suite. Monge
apologised and swore to herself that
she would never leave ‘admissions’
to anyone else ever again.
The Proposal
There were many knots tied in the
B&B but this one was the sweetest.
Plinth met the young couple at the
door and led them towards their
unit, uttering his usual well-aired
platitudes. He didn’t take much notice of them. Both were in jeans and
t-shirts. Her hair was tied back in a
pony-tail and his was cropped and
tidy. They wanted the full package
that included a candle-lit dinner. So
when dinner time came, Monge set
things up, served the soup and retrieved the plates and then Plinth
went in with the main course. As he
went through the kitchen door
Monge told him that the young couple had dressed for dinner. Plinth
was impressed with this news but it
still didn’t prepare him for the sight
that met his eyes. The young woman
whose name was Robyn was dressed
in a low-cut black dress and she
wore a gold necklace that was set off
beautifully against her olive skin. Her
hair was brushed out and her face
19
was lightly made up. Plinth was surprised he hadn’t noticed how very
attractive this young woman was
when she arrived earlier. The young
man had brushed up remarkably well
also. His name was Marcus and he
was wearing a freshly pressed shirt
and Plinth noticed that he had very
blue eyes and fine even teeth. Plinth
was speechless with admiration and
back in the kitchen he trod back and
forth, waiting to go back in for another look. On his final visit, Plinth
was surprised to see Robyn sitting by
herself. She cast him a funny glance
and noting her flushed cheeks, Plinth
asked her if everything was all right.
“Yes thank you,” she replied,
“things couldn’t be better.”
“And what about Marcus?” asked
Plinth. “Is he getting some fresh
air?”
“No, he’s in the toilet.”
“Dear me,” said Plinth. “It wasn’t
the food?”
“No, no. He proposed to me. He
suddenly pushed his chair around
and grabbed my hand. Then he
asked me if I would marry him.”
My God, no wonder, thought
Plinth looking at this gorgeous
young woman. Losing all tact Plinth
couldn’t help himself. “And what did
you say?” he demanded.
“Well I was a bit surprised and I
hesitated. Then he started squeezing
my hand so hard it hurt. I looked at
him and he seemed like he was going
to burst. I said, ‘Let go my hand,
you’re hurting me’. And then I
kissed him and said ‘Of course, I’d
love to marry you’.”
“So where is he now?”
“Poor Marcus. He burst into
tears and ran in to the toilet. He’s
still in there, poor boy.”
Plinth went prancing back to
Monge with the news. Back in the
suite a champagne bottle was uncorked and there were hugs and
drinks all round.
That was one of the lovely things
about a bed and breakfast. New relationships were cemented and some
shaky old ones were refreshed. It
was hard work but at times very rewarding.
Meg and Barry Merton
How Victoria’s First Export
Industry Commenced
in Western Port
In December 1834 there landed on
the eastern shore of Western Port
the pioneers of the oldest rural industry in Victoria. As the result of
their toil, the first cargo exported
overseas from any place within the
limits of what is now Victoria, was
shipped from Western Port in the
early part of 1835, before the first
settlers from Tasmania had set foot
on the shores of Port Phillip. The
schooner Elizabeth, built and owned
by John Hart, landed 20 bark strippers, a team of bullocks, and a dray
at Red Point, near the site of the
settlement formed in 1826 by a party
from Sydney under Captain Wright,
and abandoned a few months later.
The country abounded in magnificent wattle trees which Hart described as the largest he had ever
seen, and so great was the quantity
of bark obtained by these strippers
who remained at Western Port till
April 1835, that it was found worthwhile to charter a vessel to load for
London.
The long forgotten Western Port
venture is closely connected with the
earliest history of Portland. The
shore whaling-station at Portland
was established in 1832 and during
the winter of 1834 Griffiths, who
had a finger in much of the whaling
and sealing along the southern coast
of Australia, had a strong party there.
In October 1834 the Elizabeth at the
end of the Bay whaling season
brought these men back to
Launceston. It was considered desirable to find them employment during the summer in order that they
might not be tempted to join opposition whaling parties for the next season. Accordingly Griffiths decided
to send 20 of them on this bark
stripping expedition. Western Port
was already well known to some of
the sealers who ‘worked’ out of
Launceston. When Captain Wetherall of HMS Fly visited the port in
1826 for instance, he found a party
of sealers from Port Dalrymple
(Launceston) settled on Phillip Island. They had built themselves huts
and had two acres under wheat, in
addition to which they were growing
maize and other grain. This was the
first crop worth speaking of grown
in Victoria.
When the Elizabeth arrived at
Phillip Island the sealers’ huts and
‘Sydney Barracks’ the official settlement near Red Point were in ruins.
There was also evidence of former
human occupation in the shape of
wild cattle. Hart, the master of the
Elizabeth, tells us that there were
numbers of cattle, in fine condition,
and that he shot one large white bull.
Hart and his crew turned bark strippers too, until enough had been collected to load the Elizabeth. Then
they left the whalers/barkers to continue the work, while they took their
cargo to Sydney. In Sydney Hart
chartered the 306-ton Andromeda to
load back at Western Port for London. With Thom, the mate of the
Elizabeth, on board as pilot and supercargo, the Andromeda arrived in
Western Port in April 1835 and took
on board a cargo of bark, which was
afterwards sold in London for £13 a
ton, a figure calculated to make the
mouths of present day owners of
wattle bark water.
According to Hart, the Western
Port expedition was not without influence on the settlement of Port
Phillip. He says that when he returned to Launceston he sang the
praises of the new country, not only
to his owner Griffiths and to Connolly who was the agent for the sale
of the bark, but to a company in the
20
billiard room of the Cornwall Hotel
which included Fawkner, George
and John Evans, and he believed
John Batman, all very early settlers in
Victoria. He spoke in the highest
terms of the land and the grass
“instancing the sign of the mimosa
trees as proof of the one and the
condition of the wild cattle as a result of the other”. The bark strippers
spread the fame of the new country
far and wide, many being farmers in
Van Dieman’s Land who saw at
once the advantages.
[Peninsula
Post, 3 January 1919]
Note: The Red Point referred to in
this report appears on an early map of
Western Port where the township of
Corinella is now situated. The actual point
is now called Settlement Point. A small
military settlement was established here in
1826 to forestall any possibility of French
colonisation in the area. It was abandoned
in 1828 due to poor soil, the lack of fresh
water, and a lack of Frenchmen.
Book Review
Too Many Mothers
by Roberta Taylor
Too Many Mothers, set in the East
End, is the incredible story of
Roberta Taylor’s early life and the
extended family that brought her up.
Nancy Mary was the wily matriarch,
who would do almost anything to
survive, including stealing from her
seven children. Her nerve, humour
and sheer determination were also
the glue that held the family together. Roberta was born to a father
her mother adored, but whom she
herself would never know.
This book is about an embattled
family at war with itself and the outside world. From petty crime to pet
monkeys, tender romance to emotional blackmail, illegitimacy, adoptions, even murder, Roberta Taylor
has written a bittersweet and ultimately unforgettable memoir of her
early life.
June Armstrong
From the
Foreshore
How lucky we are to be able to meet
an echidna on the path as we take
our morning constitutional. How
lucky we are to be able to see the
grey woolly bottom of a koala disappearing over Sue Byrne’s paling
fence!
How many other people, in other
places, can still walk the beach and
see the sun go down while they
watch the ibis and white-faced herons fishing in the rock pools?
How many of today’s children
who never come to Somers have
swum with dolphins, watched crabs
in the rock pools, raced their bikes
along winding bush tracks and seen
the shearwaters setting off for Siberia, as they play safely in the bush?
As some areas of the Foreshore
are protected for all time from development and exploitation by being
Crown Land Reserve our privileges
are guaranteed. This is a blessing and
a responsibility for all of us.
The Somers Foreshore Committee of Management has been appointed, by the Minister for Planning, to protect, restore, maintain
and sustain the coast for all future
generations and all present Victorians.
The committee members are volunteers. They organise to keep the
tracks cleared and steps repaired,
maintain seating and pay the water,
sewerage and power bills as well as
seeking funds to restore the Reserve’s habitat values.
The lucky people who currently
carry this heavy burden are Carl
Carthy, Ian Law, Christine Howard,
Brent Hall, Peter Hohaus, James Sutton, Del Skinner, Roger Richards
and Rosemary Birney (there is no
reason for the order of the list, every
committee member is as important
as the next).
Everyone in Somers is aware of
the multi-ability track built from Haven Street to the store car park. Most
people would now be aware of the
path extension going east. Esso/
BHP, Brett Vitols and Hans Fortuyn
made this path possible and we owe
them all an enormous thank you!!!
The Eastern Clifftops, the site of
the new paths, is the current project
area being addressed by the C of M.
The Commonwealth and State Governments have both contributed generously to this project through the
Envirofund and Coast Action/Coast
Care. Local residents, regular visitors
and even overseas travellers have
also donated many, many volunteer
hours to the work and have made
the project possible.
The south side of the Eastern
Clifftop path is being planted with
low growing grassy heath that connects the significant sheoak stands
with a biodiverse habitat corridor.
These plantings take up ground
water that would otherwise flow
across the area and over the cliffs,
threatening the cliffs and the sand
dunes below. These clifftop plantings are ‘a work in progress’ and will
need a lot of work before they are
self-sustaining. Being indigenous
21
plants they will eventually outcompete the weeds as their density
increases, as long as we all give them
a hand.
The next step that needs to be
taken on the Eastern Clifftops is to
increase the biodiversity and density
of the plantings. Only then will the
soil begin to improve as the needed
fungus and microbes populate the
soil. Then we will find heath and
other wildflowers growing in the
grasses!
And now everyone can help.
The neighbours can help by
planting some habitat areas in their
gardens. These will not only take up
ground water but will also provide
shelter and food for the local fauna.
The walkers can help by keeping
their eyes open and noting any
changes, for the better or the worse,
and help to keep the Committee well
informed.
Everyone can volunteer a little
time even if it is only to pull one
weed or pick up one piece of rubbish
or to come and say how much you
like what is being done.
Or perhaps you’d consider making a donation, as some very generous residents of Somers have done
already or offer your expertise to the
Committee.
You can all help in so many different ways and the Committee of
Management would love you to get
involved.
The Committee of Management
and the Volunteers are a pretty terrific mob. We’d like to say ‘thank you’
to all the wonderful workers, and
we’d be so pleased to welcome you
too into our group!
Revelations on Resolutions
Have you ever made wonderful New
Year’s resolutions, but find them
hard to achieve? If so, you are in
good company. On New Year’s Eve
many people around the world review the year that has passed and
make plans for the coming year. The
trouble with New Year’s resolutions
is that they seem easy to make and
hard to keep.
As a life coach, committed to assisting people to be, do and have more
of what they really want in life, I’d
like to share some ideas with you
about how to make New Year’s resolutions you CAN keep:
Determine, very specifically, the
objective, nature and value of your
intention.
Realise that there are “harder”
and “easier” ways to achieve things.
It’s a powerful strategy to identify
and choose the ways which are easiest for YOU.
Make it really rewarding. Few of
us have real passion for the things we
“should” do, but find ourselves effortlessly drawn to things we really
want. Build adequate rewards into
your goals to keep you going through
the harder times.
Be flexible. If the plan you have
developed is failing you, don’t discard
the goal, rethink the strategy for
achieving it.
Avoid being overwhelmed. Break
your goal down into small steps, and
commit to tackling one step at a time.
Determine how these changes will
fit into your current life. New things
may need to displace old ones in order
to survive. Can you make room in your
current life for the changes you’ve
planned? What might have to go?
To illustrate these ideas, let’s look
at a common New Year’s resolution:
Let’s say you have decided you want
to get in shape by exercising regu-
larly. You may even have purchased
or received some new exercise
equipment, such as an exercise bike,
running or walking shoes, with this
goal in mind.
What might be missing from this
resolution that could threaten your
chances of enduring success?
Get specific: What do you mean
by getting in shape? Is it related to
your body proportions or dimensions, your aerobic fitness, or your
strength? And what do you mean by
exercise? Is it restricted to activities
such as aerobics or swim classes,
weight training, jogging, or playing
sports, or does it include housework,
gardening, or commuting to work by
bike or on foot? What does
“regular” mean to you? Getting clear
about these details can be critical in
achieving your goal, or believing you
have failed.
The “hard way” vs. the “easy
way”: If, for example, you are fundamentally an outdoorsy, outgoing,
social person, then committing to an
hour on the treadmill, on your own,
in a basement, 5 days per week
might just be way too hard for you,
and doomed to failure. You might
find it easier to play a team sport,
attend a gym with friends, or join a
walking/jogging group. Know yourself well enough not to set yourself
up for failure.
Rewards: What happens when
life gets in the way of your goal –
you may suffer from injury or illness,
or your goals may have been a bit
too ambitious? Coupling your exercise activities with other valuable,
“feel good” things (such as spending
time with people you like, helping
others, or enjoying nature) can
greatly increase the likelihood of
keeping your resolutions, even when
the going gets tough.
Flexibility: Being flexible is not a
sign of weakness. If you get bored
22
with jogging, do you push on regardless until you give up just because it’s
what you said you’d do, and therefore it is what you “should” do? Or
do you recognize that your fitness/
exercise goal can be achieved in a
variety of ways and find something
new for which you can generate
genuine enthusiasm (although admittedly, you might have to forego the
“suffering credits” you might have
earned)?
Avoid being over ambitious. In
the face of apparently insurmountable challenges, most of us are inclined to give up. We can empower
ourselves to achieve remarkable
things by breaking down our goals
into small, manageable steps and
taking one step at a time. Small steps
can make great journeys – a walk
around the block can lead to a marathon, or not, depending on your
goal.
Resistance to change: Lots of
facets of your life can conspire
against the changes you want to
make. Be prepared for this and don’t
be caught out. It may be difficult to
find time to increase your exercise,
or find opportunities to change your
eating habits within the structure of
your current life. Maybe your life
was already full before you decided
to make changes. For example, other
people may be invested in you remaining the way they’ve known you
– as “the quiet one”, “the fat one”,
or “the unreliable one” – they may
resist changes that undermine their
view of you, even if they outwardly
support the changes. You may need
to make bigger changes in your overall life to accommodate your visions
for the new you, or your new life.
For example, you may need to see
less of your “couch potato”,
“doubting Thomas” or workaholic
friends or colleagues and seek out
those who are more encouraging or
genuinely supportive of your goals.
So making New Year’s resolutions that have a good chance of
success might involve more thought
than you had realized. Remember, as
social organisms, we can harness
enormous energy through the power
of partnerships. When it makes a
difference, don’t hesitate to engage
appropriate support for your endeavours: engage a life coach to help you
determine what you REALLY want
and how to go about getting there;
use a personal fitness trainer to determine and pursue exercise goals;
make use of a financial planner; obtain spiritual guidance; increase your
accountability by making a commitment to someone other than yourself. These are just some ideas. You
may come up with others. I encourage you to make your New Year’s
resolutions more than a clichéd joke.
Take whatever steps you need to
take in order to achieve enduring,
satisfying success.
Mandy Kotzman, Ph.D.,
Certified Life Coach
Creative Pursuits, LLC
+1 970 224 4549 (Colorado)
+61 3 5931 3137 (Somers)
www.creativepursuits.net
COMMON SENSE
The sad passing of common sense:
Today we mourn the passing of a
beloved old friend, COMMON
SENSE, who has been with us for
many years. No one knows for sure
how old he was since his birth records were long ago lost in bureaucratic red tape.
He will be remembered as having
cultivated such valuable lessons as
knowing when to come in out of the
rain, why the early bird gets the
worm, life isn’t always fair. And
maybe it was my fault.
COMMON SENSE lived by simple, sound financial policies (don’t
spend more than you earn) and reliable parenting strategies (adults not
children are in charge).
His health began to deteriorate rapidly when well intentioned but overbear-
Getting The Gong!
The gong in use at the Lord Somers
Camp has a long and chequered history. The gong is 127 years old,
spending its first 41 years at sea in
service on the MV Praetoria. When
the ship was later decommissioned it
was purchased by David & Hay Pty
Ltd, shipbreakers of Port Melbourne.
It was then purchased at auction by
Vice Commodore Lindsay Strachan
who took it back to England and
presented it to the Cowes Yacht Club
where it hung in the Long Room
until WW1. The Camp historian is
unsure as to how Lord Somers acquired the gong, but he brought it
with him as Governor of Victoria in
1926 and presented it to Camp at the
opening of the Mess Hut in 1931
where it has remained ever since. Just
under the lip of the gong can be
found the following inscription:
“Liberty Bellmakers of Philadelphia”.
From the January 10 edition of the
Camp magazine Summer Times.
23
ing regulations were set in place.
Reports of a six-year-old boy
charged with sexual harassment for
kissing a classmate, teens suspended
from school for using mouthwash
after lunch and a teacher fired for
reprimanding an unruly student, only
worsened his condition.
COMMON SENSE lost ground
when parents attacked teachers for
doing the job they failed to do in
disciplining their unruly children.
It declined even further when
schools were required to get parental
consent to administer Panadol, sun
lotion or a sticky plaster to a student,
but could not inform the parents
when a student became pregnant and
wanted to have an abortion.
COMMON SENSE lost the will
to live as the Ten Commandments
became contraband, churches became businesses and criminals received better treatment than their
victims.
COMMON SENSE took a beating when you couldn’t defend yourself from a burglar in your own
home and the burglar could sue you
for assault.
COMMON SENSE finally gave
up the will to live after a woman
failed to realise that a steaming cup
of coffee was hot. She spilled a little
in her lap and was promptly awarded
a huge settlement.
COMMON SENSE was preceded in his death by his parents,
Truth & Trust, his wife Discretion,
his daughter Responsibility and his
son Reason. He is survived by three
stepbrothers: I know my rights,
Someone else to blame and I’m a
victim.
Not many attended his funeral
because so few realised he was gone.
If you remember him, pass this
on. If not join the majority and do
nothing.
Anon
AN ARROW
IN THE NIGHT
I lay quietly in bed drifting into the
deep lagoon of sleep. My wife slid
into the bed and sought my warmth.
The night was quiet around us. As
she felt my body beside her she was
comforted by the enduring warmth
of my being and she too began to
drift in the deep currents of the
night. Her hand ran lightly over my
body and suddenly she was seized
with alarm. “You’ve got a lump!”
she said. An arrow flew in the night.
“Rubbish!” I replied. “Go to sleep. I
don’t have a lump.”
A night passed, and a day. I
climbed into bed and she lay beside
me. For a few minutes I read a book,
but sleep crept up on me and I put
the book aside. As I lay there drifting
away, her words of the night before
came into my mind and I ran my
hand softly over my belly. The arrow
found its mark. I felt the lump. Together we felt the lump, a hard protuberance in the soft flesh of my belly.
What is a lump? A lump is a hard
protrusion in a body of soft flesh.
The flesh has always been soft and
smooth and the hand slides softly
over it. It is pleasant and sensuous. It
encloses the body without thought. It
is one and entire. What is underneath
is of no moment. It just serves the
outside which is strong and sturdy
and enduring.
Which always has been and always will be. Which goes on and on.
Which copes with whatever comes.
Which doesn’t change. Which grows
but stays the same.
What does it mean? It is not me.
It is different. It is hard where I am
soft. It protrudes where I am
smooth. It is non-symmetrical. It
cannot be me. What is it? What is it
doing there? There, where there has
always been smooth flesh. A body to
be used. A body to be enjoyed. A
body everlasting.
The arrow pierced my soul. This
is my body. This is me. I don’t have
lumps. How can this be? How did it
get there? It doesn’t belong. It is an
invader. I will get rid of it. I will have
it taken out. It has no right to be
there. My body does not have lumps.
But! But! But me no buts.
It is my body and the lump has no
rights.
Mark Stokes
Ministerial
Advisory Council
for
Senior Victorians
Just a few words to remind you of
my position as a member of the
above council. Amongst my responsibilities I have the enjoyable task of
consulting with the general community on matters affecting Senior Victorians, and, where relevant, presenting those matters directly to the State
Minister responsible for Senior Victorians and Aged Care, Gavin
Jennings MLC. Pursuant to this I
would be most happy to meet and
discuss with any individual, specific
issues that it is felt would be of
benefit to all elderly citizens. Provided of course that the issues come
within the gambit of the State system. Any note in my Somers PO
Box 167 will be swiftly acknowledged, and my phone number is in
the book.
Richard Armstrong.
24
A LOT OF GRUNTING PUT INTO BUILDING
THE SOUTHERN CROSS THEATRE
AT HMAS CERBERUS
I should imagine most people living
in our village have enjoyed a visit to
the Southern Cross Theatre at
HMAS Cerberus to listen to a performance by the navy band. These
are very professional musicians who
each play two or three different instruments. It’s a great theatre, the
venue for lots of lovely music and
for visits from celebrities. My best
memory of it was the time when
Graham Kennedy did In Melbourne
Tonight at this theatre.
But how could such a splendid
thing as a theatre be built in the
1950s when any money that went to
the navy was spent on ships, torpedoes etc.? The sailors were still living
in unheated dormitories, with a
locker for their clothes and a hammock in which to sleep. The Drill
Hall was the venue for entertainment, mainly movies. Although it is
difficult to imagine, the induction of
National Service men to commence
their two-year stint was the first step
in the building of the theatre. The
“Nasho’s”, as they were known, did
not come with cast-iron stomachs
like the permanent sailors who had
been eating garbage from the first
day they joined the navy. Not so the
“Nasho’s”, they usually took one
mouthful of the food and then
scraped the rest in the refuse bucket,
as they were required to do. The
Paymaster, who was responsible for
the catering, was most displeased at
what he called the “waste of food”.
The Executive Commander, always
known to the sailors as the
“Manager”, also heard that the
“Nasho’s” were wasting the food. So
he sent for a few of them and asked
them why. They answered, “That’s
not food, Sir. It’s pig swill”. “Then
where do you eat?” he asked. “In the
canteen, Sir!”
The canteen, where the Nasho’s
ate, became known to the sailors as
the Millionaires Club. The Executive
Commander was a first-class man, a
good sailor, a good organiser, good
at everything he did. He mused on
the waste of food problem at length;
he knew he could not ask the Paymaster to produce better food, because in the ‘50s the Paymaster was
allowed about one shilling and sixpence per man per day to feed them.
Meanwhile the Millionaires Club
became bigger and better, even the
depot mascot, “Harold” the bulldog,
decided to eat there, but continued
to visit the pub where he drank
“Murphy Flash”, a special beer made
by Carlton United Brewery. Fights in
the “Wets”, as the bar was known,
were frequent; the offenders were
mostly the “Lordly Ones”, as the
seamen were known. These fights
were dealt with by the Naval Police
patrol. Harold the bulldog always
made it hard for the patrol, because
having freeloaded on the Lordly
Ones for beer, he felt the least he
could do was to help out. He usually
finished up in the Paddy Wagon with
the drunks for a trip to the Police
Office and a night in the cells, where
the sailors could sober up. The next
morning they had to face the Commander on a drunk charge. I once
heard the Master-at-Arms confide in
the Commander, “Murphy Flash! If
you would not fight on it, you must
be a coward!”
Back to the Commander and his
VITOLS
CONSTRUCTIONS
Brett
0408 037 938
All building aspects
25
food waste problem. With the words
“pig swill” ringing in his ears, he sat
down and organised for a piggery to
be built, the pigs to be fed on the
scraps from the mess hall and to be
managed by a civilian with a knowledge of pigs. The piggery was an
enormous success; the pigs always
topped the scales at Dandenong and
the money came rolling in. All the
breeding boars had names taken
from senior officers. In my years in
the navy this irreverence to their
officers was common. Very few
Captains had that something for
which their crews would go through
fire and water. But there were some,
and to have shipped with one of
them was a highlight in your life.
Back to the building of the theatre. It was the pigs that did it, together with the food wasted by the
Nasho’s. The Millionaires Club of
course slumped when the National
Service scheme finished. Two years
in the navy did not produce any
prime seamen, but it did a hell of a
lot of good to those who took part
in the program. The Millionaires
Club is still there, but today it is
known as “Millies”. It still sells pies,
hot dogs, cakes etc., but I doubt
whether the sailors at Cerberus
would know how it got its name.
The piggery? Well, it built the theatre
and is no longer in existence.
If you are a newcomer to the Somers Village and you have never
attended the Southern Cross Theatre
for a musical evening, our bus makes
periodic visits there. I’ll be surprised
if you don’t enjoy it!
John (Tas) Cusick
The Atomic Theory
Today we might consider the splitting of the atom as an unmitigated
disaster. As we see with Iran, North
Korea, India, Pakistan and Israel, the
number of countries likely to have
atomic weapons is growing fast, despite the opposition of those who
already have hundreds of them and
refuse to give them up. At least the
medieval Church burnt at the stake
any adherents of the atomic theory
as expounded by Lucretius!
Lucretius died in about 55 BC,
after composing his great Latin
poem on the nature of the world (De
Rerum Natura). This was based on an
atomic theory developed by two brilliant Greek philosophers, Leucippus
of Miletus (active c. 440 BC) and
Democritus of Abdera in Thrace
(active about 40 years later). Their
theory was developed without any
electron microscopes, and it argued
that atoms combined in a void, as
countless tiny particles, homogeneous in substance, infinitely varied in
shape and size, solid, compact and
moving and colliding and thus forming matter. A little swerve from their
straight descent led to these collisions and to creation. As the word
‘atom’ suggests, the particles were
not in fact indivisible (atomos, ‘not
able to be cut’). But it was only early
in the 20th century that Thomson
and Becquerel discovered that the
atoms had electrons within them and
that they emitted radiation.
Thomson compared the electrons
with currants dispersed through a
BLOKES
bun, but his culinary imagery lacks
the poetic imagination of Lucretius.
In book 2 he describes sunbeams
entering a shadowy place and in
them thousands of tiny particles
move around as if in everlasting conflict, with a rapid sequence of unions
and disunions, like atoms perpetually
tossed about in space. Today the
lights at a tennis club show thousands of tiny insects spinning
around, most of them never recorded. Elsewhere he describes a
flock of sheep on a distant hillside
moving along lured by fresh grass,
while lambs frisk around them, but
from a distance it is a stationary
white patch on a green hillside. Even
so atoms are in motion but we cannot see them moving. He then describes Roman troops waging an
imaginary war, and the ground is
ablaze with bronze. The sounds of
shouting and marching feet rise up
and wheeling horsemen gallop over
the plain until it quakes under their
charge. Yet from a vantage point in
the hills it is simply a blaze of light
stationary on the plane below.
To Lucretius, the Greco-Roman
gods could not exist, or if they did
they could have nothing to do with
mankind, and he argued that one’s
atoms returned to the general pool
of atoms, so that with no after-life,
the fear of death was at last removed. No wonder the Church’s
inquisitors hunted out Lucretians!
John Martyn
Coolart Plumbing
Drainage, Roofing
Sewerage Connection
Contact Peter Tickell
5983 5936
Mobile: 0407 329 800
26
Blokes love a yarn
spinning tales or dreams
they stand cheekily
down by the store
icons of Aussie manhood
dungarees, some splattered
or torn, hang like flags
perennial brown boots,
beanies like pudding bowls,
chequered wool shirts
signal their status,
covering coloured tattoos,
they clutch hamburgers
and ubiquitous cola,
gulped between words
then they disperse
to trucks and utes
tooting as they drive
blue heeler in the back.
Balding blokes sigh or
laugh in the post office
maybe an hour to buy a stamp,
they seek connection
ask for dwindling mail,
lead their tiny dogs,
terriers, foxies, mongrels,
to the red water bowl.
Some of these men belong
to ‘secret men’s business’.
They disappear to fly planes
fiddle with clever projects
down in the tin shed,
mateship flows like honey.
June Armstrong
SOUL FOOD, SAUSAGES
This morning, my body worn from
days and nights spent in bed, recovering from surgery, my pelvic girdle a
dull ache, with a sharp twinge from
time to time, the skin of my back
begging for surcease, I rose at 5.08
a.m., to cook some sausages. Soul
food, sausages.
Voltron wants to be in with me,
but, like Garbo, I want to be alone.
Not with my thoughts so much as
with myself and to let whatever process must take place, take place.
I have painstakingly turned the
sausages to get them done on all surfaces, and they are approaching the
point where it will be necessary to eat
them. Eating proves their quality. A
sausage uneaten is a sausage unfulfilled. It lies there in its beautiful
golden brown skin, asking to be accepted. Best I eat them now.
My eyes are bigger than my stomach. My mother told me that years
ago and she was right. I cut a piece of
bread and fried half of it in the sausage fat, added some raspberry jam
and feasted on one sausage and half a
piece of bread. The other sausage and
the half piece of bread, lie unfulfilled,
and I am replete. Mothers sometimes
know too much.
Now I am tired and want to return to bed. Poor Jean, fancy having
a restless layabout like me for a partner. I would make it hot for such a
one, but she takes it without complaint.
With death as a constant companion, my mood is more labile than
usual. I feel the lump in my belly and
my mood swings to low. I feel the
gathering clouds. I know that if I do
not get a remission and if the chemotherapy is unsuccessful, then it will be
only a few short weeks before my life
becomes increasingly painful and
sequestered. That my body will cease
to serve as a vehicle of strength and
capability. It will less and less serve to
carry me where I will. My flesh will
wither and my enjoyment of life will
wane and pain will be my daily lot
and my portion by night as well. I
sometimes think that this is a try-on.
By God? By the earth? Perhaps, just
by life? If I accept it in the proper
manner, then she/he will withdraw
the threat. Having chosen the “soul”
road, I must take up the advantages
and disadvantages of that road. Is
lability an advantage or a disadvantage? I’m not sure at all.
It seems to me that it’s best to
know how you feel. I find myself in a
strange and terrible place. A place I
don’t like to contemplate. A place
where my fears are exposed and I feel
vulnerable.
If you’ve been there and done
that, then there are supposedly no
terrors in it for you. So, I try to conceal the deeps of my soul, to appear
to be brave and experienced. To be
able to suffer “The slings and arrows
… ”, and not be unduly impressed. It
seems to me that “the slings and arrows…” describes it justly. For seven
years now I have been hounded by
death. He has tried to seize me and I
have eluded him. Can’t he (she?)
leave me to enjoy just a few years of
peaceful existence? Does he have to
chase, chase, chase me eternally? Are
there no others out there who could
use his tender ministrations?
A small pension, a nice home, my
family about me, my tools to work
with, grandchildren to love and enjoy. I only just get to this vaunted
age, having struggled to retain my
health and vitality and he strikes
again and with renewed, almost, one
could say, malice. Is it malice? It
promises a slow and painful death, as
well as early. Well, according to my
expectations, early. The alternative,
and that by no means certain, is to
accept chemotherapy, hoping to delay the onset for a further period, but
impinging deeply on my own immune system, and opening me to
further and more insidious attack. In
27
a way, it is to undermine my own
resources, and that goes against the
grain.
I’m not sure that, given a choice,
I would like to die just yet. I’m not
that tired of life. If I was 95 or even
85, perhaps this would be a different
matter, but at 65 I feel there is yet
much I want to do and early death is
not my election. If I do have to die I
would choose a different manner of
dying. One does not have a choice,
but I could wish that the struggle
were a little less grim, a little less
threatening. Today I picked a bowl
of blackberries, some beans and a
couple of tomatoes. Also, I found
the last peach on the white-fleshed
peach tree. I ate it with relish. They
are small but very tasty and I am
sorry that I have been too ill to even
think of them, so that, this year, one
only ripe peach have I had of the
dozens on the tree. The yellow slip
stone is not yet ripe and I can look
forward to some off that tree anyway. Tonight I am early to bed. I am
quite replete with pain and don’t
look forward to its long continuance.
It’s very strange. Cancer is something that happens to someone else.
I always expected to have a pain-free
body. To be able to command my
body and it would do what I asked
of it. But I find I am someone else.
The pain is in my gut. When I want
to use my body, I have to use it
slowly and painfully. It is my name
that is in the notice sheet. It is me
that they ask about. The whole thing
has become personal. I have chosen
to try to mobilise my body’s resources to deal with this lymphoma
and I find my being to be full of pain
but I am loath to turn to chemo because that is my last hope and while
it is in reserve, I still have an undefined chance of survival. Once I
elect chemo I have a statistically defined chance of survival and so, a
statistically defined chance of death,
by a painful process. I want to keep
it in reserve. But the time must
come.
Mark Stokes
ANOTHER WALK ALONG
SANDY POINT ROAD
Leaving South Beach Rd behind me,
I walked up the track towards the
entrance to Western Park. I found
the gate in the fence crossing the
road locked. Further along the road
was blocked by permanent fencing.
What to do? Climb the fence or
cross into Cerberus, which provides
a rough vehicle track?
All was much as it has been for
years, so I walked until I reached the
corner where I turned in the direction of the beach. Here, where there
had been windrows of felled pine
trees, were the chipped remnants
now mulching the area. As I went I
came to the wooded area, which is
claimed by DSE to contain a unique
remnant of coastal bushland. Every
now and then this was entered by a
track. The tracks varied from, say 3
inches to about a foot in width as
some feral or wild animal made its
way into the secluded area. My dog,
which volunteered to come with me,
was intrigued by this wild area and
went into it via a track several times,
but each time, only penetrated a few
feet before returning. It seemed
strange but the dog, interested in
everything else, seemed to shy clear
of entering this area.
This is supposed to be a protected area, but it holds many pine
trees, which are toxic to other forms
of plant life, their dense shade making it difficult for other plants to
survive, not to mention the toxic
chemicals which the pines exude to
discourage anything else. One would
expect that DSE, if it is serious
about this area, would get rid of the
pines.
Anyway, after a little, I came to
the old campsite, which had previously been graced with litter left by
campers in the past. It has been miraculously cleaned up. The old iron
bed frame has gone. The remains of
the old kerosene lamp gone also.
However, casting around, I found,
only a few metres into the surrounding bush, other detritus. So man’s
past presence continues to be advertised by the rubbish left behind.
Coming through the scrub I
stood above the beach and slid
down a sand chute on my bum. My
dog, a young whippet, ran wild and
free, for a time. The tide was well
out, and the wide beach was quite
beautiful. I sat and watched the
great laden clouds, in their stately
procession, sweep down the bay.
Having rested for some time, I rose
and, just along the beach, I found a
weathered skull. I am intrigued by
this object. It is about the size of my
whippet’s head, and has a long
snout, again reminiscent of the
whippet’s snout. There are two great
eye sockets, the one on the left broken and with only a small fragile
bone to tell me that there was once
a socket here. The lower jaw is missing and the left side of the upper jaw
is missing also. The right side is fascinating. One tooth only remains. A
sharp and powerful tooth and, in a
row behind it, six holes where teeth
have been. Where the upper jaw has
been broken off the underlying
structure of the snout is revealed. I
am not an anatomist, and I have
never previously examined a skull in
any detail, but I found this most
interesting. The bone was not solid
as I would have expected but a
three-dimensional bone lacework,
obviously to lighten it. The jaw
could only have been about an inch
wide and about 3 or 4 inches long.
(Sorry about the measurements, but
inches are real to me, whereas centimetres don’t have the same reality,
so inches it is.) There is a longitudinal split in the skull, separating the
right and the left sides. There is also
a crack across the centre of the
skull. I had to keep it from my dog
28
that took a keen interest in it, but it
was my find and not hers.
I got to the stairway and I slowly
mounted it, being quite tired by this
time, and made my way home. Along
the way I came across the site of a
murder. Four beautiful, deep grey
feathers, one of which was bloody,
lay outside the tower reserve. I
picked them up and carried them
home.
Mark Stokes
WANTED
Volunteers with an interest
in local history.
TOM LUXTON’S DREAM
Tom Luxton owned Coolart from
1937 until his death in 1968. Not
only did he raise meat and wool on
his property but brought to reality
some of his dreams. One was to create a bird and wildlife sanctuary. This
he did by extending the lagoon, an
existing waterhole which had been
formed a century earlier by the removal of clay to make bricks. He also
established a number of islands
within the lagoon that provided safe
nesting areas for the water birds
which were to come in numbers to
breed.
Another of his dreams was to
have a museum of old farm machinery - the technology of former days as a reminder of how things were
done in the past, so he began a collection. In his later years many pieces
were given away to interested people.
One or two may have been returned
to Coolart after it became a State
Park. Some of the old pieces are
housed in a shed, others are rusting
in a paddock nearby.
Jenny Thomas, one of the rangers
at Coolart, would like to bring to life
Tom Luxton’s dream. She needs
helpers enthusiastic about this project. Is this you? Please contact her at
Coolart on 5931 4001.