7 May 2011 - Koramba Cotton, NSW

This morning, as yesterday dawned clear and cold. The thermometer registered five degrees. The dew factor is effecting the hours of work; nine o’clock start seems to now be the order of the day, which means we set the alarm to go off somewhat later. But by now, even after only a little over a week, we are conditioned to wake at 6.15 when the kookaburras call. This morning we lay awake, too timorous to venture out into the cold, until finally I heard the Dog barking wildly at something and Diego’s door slam. We should linger no more.

And at the other end of the day, work is finishing about half an hour earlier, which makes for more civilised dining.

The days pass without too much drama and I manage to keep myself gainfully employed, especially if you consider reading one such exercise. 

The muddy McIntyre River

Each day I have continued to venture a little further for my walks; yesterday further down river to a delightful U bend, a peaceful place populated by birds and insects. Today I returned with my camera, a little later than other mornings, startling dozens of birds out of the low lying scrub and a kangaroo which bounded away in fear. I ventured further on the track which showed less and less use as I went on, until I came to a flood pond; serene, shady and red. I lingered a while there, before turning rather than loosing my way on less defined tracks. I was away for an hour and a half which is about my limit unless I go laden with refreshments, compass and a satellite phone.

The latter is a silly joke, however I did take my own cellphone this morning in the faint hope I might find a pocket of reception. Not so; Vodafone seems only functional in the built up areas. Tomorrow I shall take Chris’ for company and try his out; he is with Teltsra. (We are trying to cover all bases)

Chris is now working in Field No. 3, an area of 570.55 acres (or 230.9 hectares). The Irishman left earlier in the week to join his girlfriend who was flying in from the UK, and so there are just the three in the team now, which Chris says works very well.

Late on Thursday afternoon I had a bit of excitement; a 4WD pulling a large caravan pulled into the yard here. They stopped and I poked my head out to greet them to find two hairy unattractive men of thirty, give or take a few years. No woman for me! I gave a cursory wave and left them to manoeuvre their van back to the fence. Their van is at least 24 feet long and makes ours look so small. I am quite confused as to how come two such unlikely lads are pulling a smart new-looking caravan like that about. No doubt the truth will out before they or I are finished. Since exhibiting loud bonhomie on arrival, they have been conspicuous by their absence, leaving for work every morning before seven and getting back long after nine. We believe they must be working at the gin.

My main gripe however is not the lack of a female companion, but the fact that their van now shields my view of the road coming down off the fields. No more will I see the morning play of the roos, and more importantly, I cannot watch for the headlights of the returning vehicles at night. These were some of my daily pleasures; how dare they obstruct in such a way! But then, I would be whingeing greatly had they come and set up on the other side of us, encroaching on what little privacy we have here. They were damned either way!

Earlier in the week there was great excitement in the men’s quarters; rumour had it that there were two Irish girls arriving to work. Apparently the men were just about drawing straws for them, sight unseen. I tell you this is a man’s domain here! It confirms my opinion that women should not be in the forces, especially not on ships and submarines. Men will be men, no matter what the official rules, just as has been seen in the recent scandal here in Australia with the Skyped liaison of two officer cadets.

Late that night a small white sedan arrived, I heard female voices, and later men’s voices from the mess speaking in that loud show off way they do when they are trying to impress. The next morning that same white car left before seven with its occupants and returned later than the field hands. I do believe that they are working at the gin. However I did sight two girls and a young male companion, all Australian by the sounds of them. More recently one girl seems to have disappeared. I suspect that one girl is with the guy, and the other did not fancy being treated as a piece of meat, and left. I have yet to hear the feedback from Chris, because Adrian, the team leader who is Chis’s main informant of barrack matters, went out with a couple of other guys on the wet day, ran out of fuel somewhere in the wilderness and did not return until four in the morning. The following day, after a full day at work, he crashed out too early to bother with catching up with the gossip. Maybe tonight?

Contrary to my opening line, it would seem evident that I have too much time on my hands to be occupied by such. I shall have to re-immerse myself in my genealogical searches.