Australia is having a bad day

– And they didn’t lose the rugby. Well not this day anyway.

I’m recalling Thursday August 27 this year in Christchurch when a 29-year-old Australian terrorist had been sentenced to life imprisonment with no chance of parole. 

The culprit had shot dead 51 people and injured 40 others who were mostly at prayer in two Christchurch mosques.

Reporters from international media attended the four-day sentencing. Stories, including one in the Guardian made a point of saying the criminal was Australian.

While we were relieved by the outcome –the guy appeared to show no remorse when facing survivors of his shooting spree. I did feel a tad sorry for Australia. I then noticed the label on the bottle of wine I had opened. It was an excellent cabernet sauvignon from South Australia.  It was from the Lindsay Collection. Lindsay was an artist. He was a friend of the winemaker’s father. Got me thinking about better times in Australia.

Some years ago I had enjoyed reading a book Journey among men. It was by Jock Marshall and Russell Drysdale, the latter another Australian artist. The book belonged to my former wife. Marshall had been a professor at Monash University where she had graduated from in geography. Hence her reason for having the book.

When I was packing up books when we separated I put Journey among men on my pile. I must have this. Then thought. Well it’s not my book and left it behind. I was subsequently pleased I did.

Soon after hearing the August 27 outcome I checked Book Depository and was directed to a second-hand bookseller, Abebooks.  So I placed my order and it was eventually delivered by courier. It had been published in 1962 and reprinted twice in 1963. That was the end of it.

Two groups set out to explore the Australian outback – one from Sydney, the other from Perth. They join up in Western Australia. Their task is to write stories for London newspapers in an effort to encourage migration to Australia. They set out to study the natural environment –animals etc. and collect zoological samples.  

 

There is a lot of discussion, for example, about marsupials. Kangaroos, wombats quokers amongst them. The young are born and develop in their mother’s pouch. At the time there was much misunderstanding even by international experts how this comes about. Papers had been published claiming the young were fed via a mother’s nipple. That was false according to Professor Marshall who explains how the young are fed in a pouch.

                                 Western Australian Pinnacles dessert north of Perth 

 

But people soon came to fascinate, Drysdale in particular, who went to work with his amazing sketches. So we read about colourful characters one would find only in the Aussie outback. How about Harmonious Harry, Brandy John, Whispering Smith,   Billy the lark, and Tropical Frog amongst others?

                                               Billy the Lark

The book begins when they spot a notice on the door of an outback pub.

Whispering Smith had banned Billy the Lark from drinking intoxicating liquor for three months. Billy the Lark was cook on Whispering Smith’s sheep station. There had been a dispute.

Then there was O’Flaherty’s black eye.

Father O’Dooley spotted it and accosted him in a Port Hedland street.

`Michael O’Flaherty, how did you get that black eye?

He explained he got it from Jimmy O’Rourke in a foight.

`Shame on you for fighting. And double shame for letting a little cocksparrow like Jimmy O’Rourke blacken your eye.’

Mik felt offended.

`It was what he had in his hand, Father that did the damage –and it was an axe handle he had in his hand.  

Father O’Dooley considered the matter.

`And what did you have in your hand, Michael O’Flaherty?’

Mik replied, `I had Mrs O’Rourke’s waist in me hand, Father. A beautiful thing in itself but completely useless in a foight.

Pubs and cold beer are prominent in the Aussie outback.

One existed where no-one seemed to live. The owner had a large spread of sheep country. He kept the outdoors pub as a service to the termites and the few men scattered throughout the district. It had a kerosene refrigerator, an open meat tin with assorted change on a small bench, and above it a bottle opener attached to a piece of string.

Instructions to the rare customer requested anyone taking a bottle from the refrigerator, to replace it with one from the bulk supply. If they cared to, they could leave payment in the meat tin. But above all, for Christ’s sake don’t steal the bottle opener.

History confirms no-one did steal the bottle opener.

                                         The Smiler

When in Broom, Northern Territory, Paddy the carpenter lets fly with his rifle, smashing bottles and glasses from the pub’s counter.

Old Dick said there were bullets and smashed glass everywhere. Harmonious Harry arrived and bullets flew past his ears like bees.

The bland but firm arm of the law arrived and Paddy was taken care of.

Got the story tellers thinking about differences between the Australian never, never and the American West. Despite both sharing a similar time in history, the gun slingers and bounty hunters, idolised by American television, never existed in Australia.

The difference was in the system of justice. In America marshals and judges were elected in a system open to incompetence and corruption.

Australia being colonised by Britain, adopted the British justice system. Police and judges were Government appointees. In any new settlement an official police force was set up to enforce the law. So while lawlessness was rife in Australia, no-one walked the streets with guns slung from their belts. Such outlaws existed as bush rangers but if they appeared in town they were taken into custody. Characters such as Billy the Kid could never have arisen in Australia.

                                                  Little bloke

Following some of their stories being published in the London Observer

Marshall and Drysdale met Andy Watson, the migration officer in London’s Australia House. Watson had commissioned the project.

`I suppose I enjoyed your stories,’ he drawled. `But they won’t encourage anyone to migrate to Australia.’

Those days approved people could migrate to Australia for £10.

According to the migration officer the stories were a failure while, curiously, in other circles they had been declared, superb.

The only commendation the migration officer gave was, `thank God you didn’t mention cricket. That would have been the bloody end.’

They could have written, they were told, about the pleasant Mediterranean climate in Australia, the glass and steel buildings, the new Sydney opera house, and better wages where a typist can afford to purchase an original oil painting.

 `That would have been more useful than stories about Harmonious Jack, Whispering Bill and slightly sordid outback pubs.  

`You have been writing nostalgically about the Australia of Banjo Patterson, Henry Lawson and other bush balladists of the 1800s.’

Here’s my answer to August 27, 2020.

 Australia is in many respects similar to New Zealand –but different. If Australia is having a better day it is in flouting their colourful folklore and their likeable outlandish characters.

Banjo Patterson’s Man from Snowy River was required reading for many of us during our school years.

I recall my Aussie brother-in-law reciting Man from Snowy River while standing beside the campfire, under the stars. We were relaxing having been bush walking in the Victorian mountains.

                                             Brandy John

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Fun time music party

A week ago I attended my friend Antonio’s music party at his hillside home. Antonio is Japanese. When he came to live in New Zealand 25 years ago he thought the locals would not cope with his Japanese name, Ryozo. After some thought, and his interest in Spanish Flamenco art, he took on `Antonio’ as a moniker that he considered would be suitable in a Western-style culture.

To say Antonio is dapper is an understatement. The perfect host, he dresses for his music party occasions. His collection of hats is impressive His music party was a sort of `pot luck’ event so there were nibbles and wine bottles in abundance. Most of the musicians were Japanese.

                                             Dapper Antonio

Antonio’s front room is home for a fine Japanese Shigeru Kawai grand piano. Aged 74 he is an accomplished musician. But he was aged 57 when he started. One of his stories has it he was partying and a participant was a piano teacher from South Africa. Antonio said he had too much to drink and casually said he would one day learn the piano.

He initially thought that would be the last of it but a few days later when at the petrol station, the music teacher arrived in the next bay.

``Hi Antonio,’ she said. `What about those piano lessons?’

Trapped, Antonio replied, `what about next Thursday?’

And it all progressed brilliantly from that brief conversation.

It was not the first music party I had attended at Antonio’s home. As always the raw talent was amazing. An early performer was a young cello player. She is known as `Little Princess.’ Her real name is Keina Rollison. Her mother, Mitsue, accompanied on the piano.

                                               Keina Rollison

 Other young musicians were nimble-fingered pianists. A middle aged trombone player, Akiya Hirasawa has performed in professional orchestras.  Satoko Nakamura was a soul-rendering pianist. Antonio told me Satoko is a music teacher and frequently visits to play his grand piano.

 

Akira Hirasawa

Satoko Nakamura

Several children accompanied their parents. If all children are cute. Japanese children are especially so. No for the first time I reminisced about being brought up anti-Japanese. Of course I was born soon before the conclusion of WW2. My Kiwi parents held ill feelings towards Germans, and Japanese in particular. Luckily times have changed. I ended up enthralled by Japanese people, their country and their culture. In 2004 I was likely the first Kiwi to cycle the length of Japan. It was part of a process to have a World Peace Bell gifted to New Zealand from Japan.

                                                                     Cute children

Mentioning cycling the length of Japan reminded me I have achieved quite a lot during my 77 years. If I have a regret, it is that I have not achieved anything musical. I once mentioned as much to a former newspaper colleague, Jenny Setchell. Her husband is a renowned concert organist. Jenny said, `don’t worry Roy that can be something for another lifetime.’

I can ponder arriving at a next lifetime Antonio’s music party with a set of Sottish bagpipes. 

                                                                Nimble-fingered pianists.

 

 

 

Age old Smoke

No-one suggested `Washington’ should not smoke. Smoking stunts growth and limits life expectancy they might have said. Just as well they didn’t. `Washington’ is aged 143 and still in great form despite a hard life.

I should mention `Washington’ is a steam locomotive also known as K class, No. 88.

I caught up with Age Old Smoke in September 2020. Watching K 88 run handsomely certainly brought back memories.

                                       `Washington' in September 2020

I had written stories about this locomotive in Trains Magazine (twice) Railway Magazine and Japan’s Tetsudo Journal. I had stories in the Press including a front page photo and of course in my own books.

`Washington’ as built in 1877 by the Roger’s Locomotive Works in Philadelphia, United States. K88 and a few others were the first American-built locomotives commissioned for the fledgling New Zealand Railways. The engineer of the Day, Allison D. Smith, considered American designs with bar framing would be more suitable for New Zealand’s less than perfect track. Indeed they were but the more flexible design had them looking flimsy.

Critics of the time – there were many, suggested the American locomotives should have been supplied with glass cases to protect them from the weather.

K 88 and K 87 were first to arrive in Christchurch. They were named after American presidents.   K 87 was `Lincoln.’ A renowned railway journalist of the day, Charles Rous-Martin, thought the Yankee tings were somewhat gaudy with purple wheels and other colourful embellishments.

In time the American locomotives became favourites with drivers. Indeed it was a promotion to go from the clumsy British-built locomotives to the American.

                                Image from Roger's catalogue  

K 88 hauled the first through train from Christchurch to Dunedin (230 miles) on September 6, 1888.  A few years later it inaugurated a so-called crack express, the Kingston Flyer. Then in 1927, along with other worn-out locomotives, `Washington’ was unceremoniously dumped into Southland’s river as embankment protection. Fifty years later someone recalled the whereabouts of the original Kingston Flyer locomotive and it was raised, partly as a prank, from its watery grave. Ashburton man, Bob Anderson, took an interest in the rescued `Washington’ and thought it could be rebuilt to run on the Plains Railway he had helped to create at Tinwald, along a section of the former Mount Somers branch line.

Still dripping muddy water, Washington’ arrived at the   Plains Railway in 1974. Bob Anderson went to work. He worked on the old locomotive mostly at nights having completed his day’s employment as a wool buyer. He mostly worked outside, laboriously dismantling the wreck and finally sorting out what could be re-used. Some parts were recovered from other wrecks – some had to be made. As time went on and progress was evident, others assisted. Finally it looked as if the restoration would happen. And it did. Bob Anderson told me when he was told the restoration of `Washington’ was impossible, he simply replied, `Too late, we have done it.

                              At Plains Railway in 1974

K 88 was first steamed in November 1981 in preparation for the necessary Ministry of Transport boiler test. On the day Bob Anderson had no plans to drive K 88 but decided to give it a go, perhaps spurred on by the television crew who had turned out for the event. A number of cautious runs were made along the station yard. The event was accompanied by much escaping steam.

Then in May 1982, `Washington’ travelled the full 2.5 km length of Plains Railway.

The big event was on November 27, 1982 when Age Old Smoke was re-commissioned. I recall it being a gala occasion. I was accompanied by about 4000 others. The restoration had taken 10, 0000 hours of work over eight years.

                                             Bob Anderson on re-commissioning day

Surprisingly, K 88 was not treated too gently. It made some mainline runs. One was to launch the Monteith’s beer brand. Another was at Weka Pass railway or the filming of the Alfred Hanlon television series.

Then in 1987 Bob Anderson died. And so did K 88 when it failed miserably a regular boiler test.  The inspector’s small hammer went through metal firebox sheeting.

John French, a long-time friend of Bob Anderson took over the second restoration. This time he went for a new boiler, firebox and smokebox. The work was provided by local firm, Lyttelton engineering. John French told me the second restoration would have K 88 good for another 100 years.

I intervened John French, as I had Bob Anderson previously. We chatted as we sat around old K 88 one afternoon in 2002. K 88 was in the shed. It was not quite finished. A few weeks later, John French called and invited me to photograph the locomotive in action. I had arranged to write a story for Japan’s Tetsudo (Railway) Journal. I got my images as we negotiated to entire line. My favourite location was amongst the pine trees at the end of the Plains Railway.

                                 John French in 2002

                                     John French driving `Washington' restoration 2. loved the purple wheels

 Interesting were the outlandish colours. John French had followed the colours as described by Charles Rous-Martin. He had seen K 88 when it had arrived in Christchurch in 1878. The purple wheels were amazing. Some of the gaudy colours have been since toned down a tad. So there it is, Age Old Smoke at age 143 years.

                                `Washington' in a forest

During my recent Plains Railway visit I was able to delightfully reminisce with John French.