We've all heard that term, 'candlelight and glitter.' It conjures up scenes
of candles and romance, gorgeous women wearing glorious gowns and dancing
with handsome men in glittering ballrooms, with soft music playing and
silver candlesticks gleaming. Well, that's not how most of us live, is
it? In fact most of us would be lucky to have candles lit on the table
more than once or twice a year. As for the romance, beautiful gowns, ballrooms
and soft music, I've never known much of that, except in the movies.
However, I did have an experience
of candlelight, glitter, and even a bit of romance, far removed from
that described above. Picture if you will, a scene in the Australian
outback, near Innamincka. Innamincka is near the junction of the New
South Wales, Queensland and South Australian borders, and is considered
one of the most remote tourist destinations in the Australia, a small
outback settlement in the very top corner of our state along the Strzelecki
Track, and on the bank of the Cooper Creek. In times past it was an
essential stopping place for outback travellers, with its own Australian
Inland Mission hospital, a store, telegraph station and pub. Now it
consists of a store, pub, post office and motel, in the middle of nowhere.
In the footsteps of some famous
explorers such as Burke, Stuart and Strzezlecki, we had traveled north
for an outback adventure holiday. My husband Ken had spent six months
preparing for this trip, building a specially outfitted trailer in which
to carry our equipment and supplies. Our children Terry, Michael and
David had special permission to be away from school, and were terribly
excited about spending ten days in the Australian Outback together with
their cousins. With Ken's two sisters Pam and Dorothy, their husbands
and families we made a party of sixteen. In the low red sand hills near
the river we'd made our camp; three tents, one campfire, and one makeshift
outback toilet. At night our chairs ringed the campfire as we watched
the water boiling for our billy tea. The glowing red coals surrounding
the camp ovens which contained our meal of braised rabbit and vegetables,
and Jam Roly Poly were also warming our hands and setting our happy
faces aglow.
When we had arrived the Cooper Creek
was in flood, and running a banker, which in Australian parlance means
full to overflowing. It was becoming more mobile by the minute with
water spreading over the flat surrounding landscape, creating little
lakes where shortly before there had been red sand, dry grass and low
scrub. The water sang a merry song as it ran over logs and rocks at
the edge of the creek making its way down from the Thompson and Barcoo
rivers, through the channel country in Queensland, to this normally
parched desert country and eventually on to Lake Eyre in South Australia.
When the Cooper floods, it brings new life to the outback. It spreads
green along its way, providing water for huge spreads of Sturt's Desert
Pea, flowering Red Hops, and bringing to life dormant aquatic creatures.
The sky was high and wide, and at
night the stars glittered as diamonds. When one spends most of one's
life in the city, or even in a country town, one does not experience
the height or breadth of the outback night-time sky. It is blacker than
ink. The air is as crisp as a chardonnay, with the stars in that great
dome overhead almost begging to be plucked as fruit. The outback silence
is palpable. No sounds of traffic penetrate the night time stillness,
no barking dogs, squealing tyres, banging car doors, or raised voices
of the unhappy couple next door.
Our meals were feasts of innovation.
Each plate contained one piece of browned rabbit and glorious onion
gravy, surrounded by carrots, diced potatoes and celery with huge herb
dumplings to sop up the gravy. No white linen cloths graced our tables,
we ate using a fork, with plates resting on our knees and cleaned every
last little bit of meat from the bones using our fingers. Several of
the children took it in turns with the tea towels to dry the washed
plates for the second course. One of the men scraped back the hot coals,
using a spade, and then using a long stick, the lid of the camp oven
was carefully lifted to reveal the perfectly cooked dessert, browned
evenly on top, and resting in a delicious sticky jammy sauce. We used
the same plates and forks to eat our dessert, and then a second shift
of dish washers took their places by the table that held the washing
up bowl and tray, with the next shift of children to help with the drying
up. Everyone had a job to do and a contribution to make for this family
expedition to work successfully and as parents we had determined that
this would be so. Our wonderful repast was followed by a welcome mug
of steaming hot tea, as we sat around the campfire playing 'I Spy,'
a game usually reserved for keeping children amused on long trips in
the car. In this case however, we all enjoyed the game, invariably wondered
why we didn't do it more often, and probably promised ourselves that
we would.
At bedtime, children were washed
in warm water, held in the same bowl used for washing the dishes, changed
into pyjamas and tucked up in their sleeping bags. Eventually the little
voices calling from tent to tent ceased, and the benediction of the
night fell all around us as we too made our way to our tents and zip-up
sleeping rooms within with warm sleeping bags, lit by the light of a
lantern.
Daybreak came early, accompanied
by first birdcall as wild duck flew to the creek and splashed gently
into its flowing waters. Flocks of colourful budgerigars, all chattering
with a high pitched scream, flew down to the water to drink, and having
done so, wheeled around in the blue sky before leaving for the day.
Galahs in the tall gums scolded their chicks, telling them not to be
so impatient for their food, as the sun emerged from behind the red
ramparts of the sand hills, spreading its pink and golden light across
the early morning landscape. Voices of children chatting quietly amongst
themselves floated softly on the crisp morning air as they scouted for
small twigs for the fire, and the older ones helped with the task of
getting it going, to make an early morning cup of billy tea, with the
obligatory gum leaf of course. The addition of one gum leaf to give
the tea a slightly eucalyptus taste is widely used in the Australian
outback, especially among those who travel in the cattle camps. Excited
voices told us that they had found a little lizard in the sand hills,
and another had seen a rabbit bounding out of sight into its burrow.
Rubbing our hands together to banish the cramping cold of night, we
would wrap them around a mug of hot tea and stand with our backs to
the crackling camp fire in an attempt to warm our bodies. The cold doesn't
last long in outback Australia though, as the sun comes over the horizon
spreading its warmth over the camp; we would retreat gratefully to the
shade of the graceful gum trees lining the bank of the Cooper Creek.
The fish in the creek were plentiful and both men and children armed
themselves with fishing lines and hooks baited with fat wriggling worms
dug from the damp creek bank. Shouts of pleasure erupted each time there
was a catch, and before long there were sufficient fish to feed all
of us for tea that night. Mothers washed clothes in the plastic bowls,
and using nature's clothes drier, pegged them onto the tent ropes. Having
tidied up the bedding and done the chores it is then their time for
lying on a rug under the shade of the gum trees with a good book, or
a game of cards or scrabble.
In the interest of our children's
education, we decided that we would travel to the 'Dig Tree', the site
of the Burke and Wills disastrous expedition of 1860-1861. This expedition
which began in August 1860 was the result of an attempt to win a prize
of 2000 pounds, offered for the first person to cross Australia from
south to north. Leaving a Mr. Brahe at Cooper Creek, Burke and Wills
forged north, but due to poor planning the expedition was a failure,
coming within sight of the northern sea, but not able to reach it. Returning
to Cooper Creek in April 1861 with insufficient food or supplies, the
expedition was stunned to find that Brahe had left Cooper Creek a matter
of an hour or so before their arrival, taking fit pack animals with
him. Before he left, having waited one extra month for their return,
Brahe had buried supplies in a hole near the tree now titled 'The Dig
Tree.' Burke and Wills however, were too weak and ill to continue, as
were their camels, and after wandering lost for some time in the desert,
died in June 1861.
Taking our supplies of fruit and
sandwiches filled with camp pie and tomato sauce with us, we travelled
along the unmade outback tracks to the historic Dig Tree. There was
not a lot to see at the site, although the tree was marked. It is preserved
as a historic site today, but our family expedition was in 1973, and
we were just a little sad to see how insignificant a place it was, although
we were standing on the very place where our famous explorers had camped.
On our return trip we called in to the Innamincka store for an unexpected
treat of an iceblock on a stick. The store didn't have the capacity
to store ice-cream at that time, and in the event of a power failure,
iceblocks could be simpler to manage, and not as expensive if a loss
occurred. The store was built at the site of the old telegraph station,
Innamincka Hotel and Australian Inland Mission hospital. We couldn't
imagine how people could possibly have run a hospital in this remote
and painfully lonely place, without the conveniences of modern day life,
let alone the necessary things to care for injured and sick patients.
Today the doctor comes into Innamincka by airplane, and if a personal
call is not necessary gives advice over the outback radio network, as
he did on the evening when my brother in law managed to have a fish
hook embedded in his thumb. Proprietors of outback businesses and cattle
stations are often required to be stand-in medical personnel, and on
this occasion the wife of the owner of the Innamincka store took down
the medical kit, and administered a shot of morphine, while her husband
removed the fishing hook from Eric's throbbing thumb, as per the instructions
received over the radio from the Flying Doctor headquarters in Broken
Hill.
Dinner that evening was glorious
freshly caught and cooked fish that had grown in the unpolluted waters
of the Cooper, grilled over hot coals, accompanied by baked potatoes,
tinned beetroot and mayonnaise, bread and butter. No greasy chips or
modern mixed salad, this was a simple meal, using only the most basic
of ingredients. The food was treated with respect and presented at the
point of readiness to each diner. The fish was followed by tinned peaches
with hot custard, freshly made, as we had been able to purchase fresh
milk from the Innamincka store. Our magnificent meal was eaten by the
light of the camp fire and lanterns, with the glittering of the Australian
night sky overhead.
Others can have all the other stuff,
the insubstantial and artificial, but I would choose what our outback
has to offer any day. It has enough romance, glittering stars and beauty
for me, and though my children are now adults with children of their
own, the memory is still as fresh as yesterday. When I hear them discussing
their outback adventure holiday, their voices are filled with awe when
they remember the arduous journey in vehicles not as well equipped as
the four wheel drive vehicles of today. I also hear longing for the
outback, and know that they would like their children to have such an
experience too.
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