My composure slowly returned, but most of January was gone before I could sit down and think of the job at hand.
January found us still ploughing fields and waiting for rain before we could plant the seed. The hay operation was in full swing, with Marlee and Franz out in the paddocks working around the clock to finish. The work continued right up to the week before Marlee, Franz and Ben were due to depart for Austria so Ben could meet his Austrian family. I wanted so much to pack a bag and disappear to Austria with them but I had to meet the deadline for the manuscript.
I decided to go and stay with Sue and Ralph in Caloundra where I could write undisturbed in peaceful surroundings with no upsetting phone call reaching me.
Marlee knew I was worried about finishing the manuscript on time and she also knew how much distress the latest Bonnie saga was causing me, so to completely remove me from all worry Franz and Marlee handled all the problems of running the station from Austria. The little family were off to Obermillstatt. Marlee’s last words to the caretaker were, ‘Don’t worry Mummy. If you have a problem, call us in Austria!’ So I was completely isolated and this was fully enforced by not telling anyone where I was. Alan had my fax number and sent on all the faxes for me received at the station. Luckily the phone calls to Austria were few and between Alan on the station and Geoff Hunt in Darwin, every hitch was solved and Alan called me every few weeks to say all was OK.
Of course our departure had not been without major problems! Our plan was for Franz to fly Marlee and Ben to Darwin so Ben could have his next lot of injections and have a week to recover before the long trip to Europe. Then Franz and I would fly up after the caretaker had settled in and we would have four days together in Darwin before we went our separate ways. Of course the best laid plans are always the ones that come unstuck.
Franz flew Marlee and Ben to Darwin and returned with the caretaker. I left the answering machine on and had a busy writing day. The next day Franz picked up Alan in Kununurra and our caretaking team was in place.
Alan knew the run of the station, but Franz went over the routine with the new man as he was the one who was supposed to do all the work. Alan was just there to answer questions, take care of our dogs and generally keep things on track.
With everyone settled in Franz and I were ready to leave the following morning. We awoke to low menacing clouds stretching as far as the eye could see. A cyclonic low had quietly moved into the valley overnight. Franz got a weather report by fax from the Department of Meteorology and it seemed our track to Darwin was clear further up the coast. So we took off and headed in a north-easterly direction.
It was soon clear that while the storm was coming from the west, it was also approaching the coast over a vast area from a northerly direction. After ten minutes of flying, the way ahead was not improving and the weather was also moving in behind us. Very soon our only option would be to fly south which would not get us to Darwin or home. The storm was moving so fast that in a short time we would have been flying blind. We headed home posthaste and landed only seconds ahead of an intensive rain squall from the west. By the time we taxied towards the hangar the wind was buffeting the plane. We closed the hangar doors and ran for the house.
So twenty minutes after take-off we were back in the house and drenched to the skin. One look at the sky and weather report told us flying was out for the day. I called Marlee and told her of the delay and said we would see her tomorrow.
The next day there was no improvement in the weather. I called Marlee with the bad news, cancelled the appointments I had for that day, and went on writing.
When the third day dawned with a black sky blocking out the mountains on every side of the valley, we started to worry. By mid-morning the sun broke through the murk, so we decided to try again. The weather seemed to be breaking up and the weather report had it clear around Darwin.
So we set out to find a way through the clouds. We got through the first bank of scattered clouds and sunshine surrounded us. However the way ahead was a different story. We went cold when we saw what we were heading into. A wall of smouldering, twisting, black turbulence was moving towards us. There was no need for conversation. Franz banked sharply and we headed back to the sanctuary of the Bullo valley.
Once more safely on the ground, we now had to admit we had a few problems. The next day at 5 p.m. Marlee and Franz had to check-in at the airport and Marlee was now calling every few hours. At the end of the day it still didn’t look good.
We went to bed with glum thoughts of Franz not getting to Darwin in time for the plane to Austria.
The next morning there was a break towards Kununurra. So the next plan—I’d lost count what number we were up to—was to fly to Darwin from Kununurra by jet. The problem was we didn’t want to leave our plane parked out in the open at the airport in Kununurra for six weeks in case a cyclone passed through while we were away. So we decided to leave our plane safe and sound on Bullo in the hangar and hire a charter plane.
We unloaded our plane and had the luggage waiting on the airstrip in the Toyota. It only takes thirty-five minutes for a plane to fly from Kununurra to Bullo so after calling Marlee to update her on the latest plan and cancelling more appointments for that day, it was time for the plane to arrive.
We heard the noise of the engine a few minutes later. Franz and I stood out the front of the homestead and watched as the small plane approached. It looked like the plane was not lined up with the airstrip and I commented on this to Franz who said the pilot would probably straighten up closer to touchdown.
He didn’t. We watched in amazement as the pilot continued his approach and landed in the ploughed sorghum field right next to the airstrip!
Except for a sharp intake of breath, there was complete silence. After the plane touched down in the field, the nosewheel dug into the soft earth and the propeller hit the ground, spraying up soft dirt. The momentum of the plane had it skidding along on its nose with its tail in the air, ploughing a new row in amongst the new sorghum plants.
The plane then did a very picturesque nosestand for a few seconds with the tail lifting high in the air and balancing on its propeller. We let out a sigh of relief as the plane crashed back down on its wheels rather than flopping on its back. Our eyes searched the scene through the settling dust and we were relieved to see the pilot’s door slowly open.
Franz watched through the binoculars and saw the pilot walk away from the plane saying some very choice words by the looks of things. But the important thing was that he appeared not to be injured. Alan drove down the airstrip to bring the pilot back to the house, while Franz called the charter company and in his usual direct manner told them, ‘Well, that plane crashed, you had better send us another.’ He did go on to elaborate and answered all the questions the worried person at the other end of the phone was asking about the pilot and the state of the plane.
By this time a very pale and shaken pilot had arrived at the house. We sat him down and handed him the phone so his boss could ask him a few dozen questions. The question we wanted to ask was why, when there was a mowed, one-mile-long grass airstrip with white markers clearly outlining the full length of the strip, would he land in a ploughed field? After the phone call with his boss the pilot asked if he could go back to the plane. So after a cold drink Franz took him back to the crash site and left him sitting forlornly next to the plane. We thought he had a few problems on his mind so we left the obvious question unasked.
By the time two planes landed, one to take us straight back to town, the other bringing in mechanics and various other people from the charter company, to look at the crash site, we were fast running out of time. So we jumped in the plane and took off as everyone on the station headed down to the crash site. We didn’t get the answer to our question until much later. It seems the reason he landed where he did was because he had been told that all the airstrips in the North were dirt. So he landed in the ploughed field not on the mowed grass ten feet away. We were not surprised when
we heard the pilot had gone back down south.
While the pilot was on the ground at Bullo trying to explain why he missed a marked airstrip by ten feet, we had our own problems in the air. We were racing to catch the jet to Darwin and ten minutes out from Kununurra we knew we were going to miss it. Our pilot called his base and told them to ask Ansett to hold the jet for a few minutes as we were on our way. Luckily they said ‘Yes’!
We landed and taxied over to the steps of the jet, where two of the Ansett staff were waiting. They put luggage tags on our suitcases and whisked them away and handed us boarding passes. We dashed up the stairs and sagged into our seats and the door slammed shut behind us.
We arrived in Darwin at 3 p.m., with just a few hours to spare before departure time. Marlee and Ben met us at the airport, very pleased to see us indeed. Ben put his arms out and had such an expression of joy on his face, we were in no doubt at all that he had missed his papa and nana.
I had a quiet day the day after their departure, spending it in the beauty salon. I had been out on the station for months and needed a major body overhaul to get everything back into ‘town’ condition. I stepped on the plane to Brisbane the next day a new woman.
Only hours after settling into the tranquil atmosphere of my sister’s home I received a phone call from Marlee. Everyone loved Ben, of course, and they were staying in Franz’s auntie’s summer house right down on the lake. Mama Ranacher had thought of everything including the food and even winter clothes for little Ben, so Marlee had walked into a fully stocked and running house. I wished them a wonderful holiday and settled in for six weeks of intensive writing.
I started writing at 4 a.m. each morning and apart from a lunch break and a swim, I worked through to six and sometimes seven o’clock each night. I did take Sundays off and with Ralph, Susan, Tod and Frances went to some lovely restaurants in the area.
About midway through this manic writing schedule, on Valentine’s Day, Martin called from Mount Isa to say Danielle had just had a little baby boy.
I finished the manuscript the day before I was due to fly home. So I had one day off! I spent this rare day sitting on the verandah staring out to sea wondering what life would be like with nothing to do. Although it’s something I don’t think I will ever experience.
I flew home the next day. Marlee and Franz were already home and they looked rested and well despite a week of heavy work getting the station ready to start the season. Ben had grown so much in the six weeks. He wasn’t too sure who I was for a few days, but I gave him his space. On the third day, when Marlee was standing talking to me and holding him in her arms, he put out his little arms to me.
I sat him on my lap as I always did as I watched the news. He sat quietly holding my hand and we watched the news together.
CHAPTER 14
March 1997– September 1997
It was a busy beginning to the mustering season. Marlee’s first job was to open the road and Franz had his hands more than full with baling hay.
Then we worked to get the house back in running order. We had to reclaim the lawn which was now two-feet tall and repairs were needed everywhere. It seemed that no matter which direction you looked, something required attention. Marlee and Franz had been working for over a week when I arrived home and the homestead and garden were only just starting to show improvement.
If you stood still for a moment you could hear the place humming with activity. Inside, months of cobwebs and dust were being swept away, and outside machine engines were revving, along with all the noises of cranking up the station for a new season.
Most of our staff for the season had settled in and were working. And the building of the new staff sleeping quarters was well on its way which was fortunate because most of the stockmen were camping out under the stars waiting until they could occupy the new rooms.
The demolition of the rest of the old bedrooms was done fairly quickly. After many years of being infested with white ants, the building had had many braces, supports and patches applied in our vain attempt to keep it standing. Add to that a few very violent storms during the last rainy season and you had a very flexible building. It was only necessary to remove a few strategic supports and it basically sagged gracefully to the ground. One of the stockmen watching said that every time he had turned over in bed last season the wall moved!
So the staff were spread out over a wide selection of jobs when our first visitors of the year arrived—the BreastScreen crew ready to take a new series of photos for magazines and to record some more radio ads.
It was a meeting of old friends. As this was their second time on Bullo there was no need for the usual few days for visitors to settle into the Outback routine. Marlee and I had been in contact with Shirley Howlett from the advertising agency many times since the last visit and she knew it was Marlee’s birthday the day after their arrival. So for a birthday surprise, Shirley brought a magnificent chocolate mud cake for Marlee and we had a birthday party the first night which set a terrific mood for the whole shoot.
Over the next four days I smiled at the camera for hours on end. Ben joined me and became quite the little performer. He smiled on cue virtually every time the camera came his way. Being the second shoot, it was an easy and enjoyable process. This time I knew what to expect and the crew knew the ins and outs of living in the Outback. They knew not to drink the bore water, knew where they could find the cold rainwater tap and knew not to leave lights on in their room or they would have a few thousand bugs sharing their bed for the night. The best thing about the shoot was that we were working in April so although it was still hot, it was much cooler than the January shoot.
The days passed quickly and productively. I knew this by the aching smile muscles in my face! At every opportunity I did my face-relaxing exercises. So if I wasn’t smiling at the camera I looked like a comedian trying to imitate a blowfish!
The last day of the visit was Ben’s birthday. The cake, also brought from Melbourne, was bright blue and in the shape of a number one. There was a fantastic photo taken of Ben sitting on my knee, looking at his first birthday cake with complete wonderment.
We waved goodbye as the crew’s plane disappeared into the cloudy sky and ambled back to the cool of the homestead. But there was no time for feet up for us. Apart from the full-on station program, we were soon onto the next big project. In only a matter of days we had another team in for a photo shoot. This time would require a lot more input from us.
The shoot was for the food layouts for my new book. And here we were with our dear old electric stove still standing and only working when it felt like it. I was having nightmares about trying to explain to two food stylists, no less, the mathematical equations necessary just to set the oven on the required temperature. This was the result of Uncle Dick ‘repairing’ the heat thermostat. It never worked again. The nightmares got worse with scenes of the oven just refusing to work or stopping in the middle of baking a cake.
The thought of two chefs in the kitchen trying to cook in Uncle Dick’s oven got too much for me, so it was off to Darwin to buy a new oven.
We still had to cook meals for the staff and crew and I couldn’t see two teams of cooks working in the one kitchen—even in one as big as ours—and producing on schedule. So I set up a second kitchen for the chefs around the new stove, in the area between the kitchen-sink area and the dining room. It didn’t look much, and certainly wouldn’t have won any Kitchen of the Year awards, but it was functional. I apologised to the food stylists for their makeshift kitchen but they were delighted with it, telling me they mostly cooked in cramped corners.
Meanwhile, back in the old kitchen we struggled on with the dear old electric oven which continued to stop working at regular intervals.
This shoot had many problems, not the least being when it was discovered a part of the camera needed to shoot the cover photograph of the book was left in Sydney. I handed this problem over to Marlee and no-one could believe it, but we had the part in our ho
t little hands the next morning at 9 a.m. This was a miracle—ask anyone who’s tried to get freight to Darwin from down south.
After solving this problem, the others that presented themselves seemed minor. It was a successful shoot with some great photos of Bullo as the background to some stunning food shots. Even the snakes stayed away from the house and didn’t scare the living daylights out of any of our city guests.
With these two big projects out of the way we were able to pay full attention to station work. Work was going on all through the photo shoots, but there were continual delays such as when I was being photographed in the sorghum field and the mower and the baler had to stop to wait for the shots to be completed. People also needed to be taken to different locations so stockmen became guides and drivers.
By the first week of May baling was well and truly on its way and the new bedrooms were almost finished. This was another giant step in the development of the station. The staff were lining up, ready to take possession as soon as the floor tiles were put down, but we had to delay them a few more days while the cement verandah around the rooms was laid. By the end of the week everyone had finally moved in and they were very pleased with the new accommodation.
A vast improvement on what was pulled down, the new building boasted flyscreen doors, fans, sliding glass doors and properly wired lighting. The old rooms had wires hanging out of the walls where staff had ripped out and taken wall mounted reading lamps with them when they left!
The Strength of Our Dreams Page 18