Aussie Experiences
For a great deal of the time, you’ll be driving across the Nullabor Plain (Nullabor is Aboriginal for “no trees”). In the 70s, the band I was in at the time did the trip in a 4 Ton Ford Truck, and it took us 3 days.
Nowadays it’s a sealed highway all the way but back then….. mate!! It was a different story. We (the band) had made the decision to go to Perth because we’d heard there was a lot of work playing in the clubs etc.
So, no worries, we’ll get a truck, throw on the gear, and bob’s your Uncle. We decided not to take the sheilas. That would have meant getting another truck for their gear.
So we told them there were no hairdressers in Perth, and besides, we could be speared by Aboriginals or die of thirst and be eaten by buzzards. The sheilas decided to stay home.
Anyway, about 2 weeks later we were off (like a bucket of prawns in the sun)and got to Ceduna without any major dramas. Ceduna was the last main town before crossing into WA and also the last petrol stop for a few hundred miles.
Not long after crossing into the West, the road changed from a sealed highway to an unsealed “it’s there somewhere, you just have to find it”!! There were huge pot holes in the road that were hard to see because they were covered with bull dust (not to be confused with the word used to describe the stories and promises some car salesmen make).
So, here we were halfway across the Nullabour, 113 degrees in the shade, the truck bouncing like a bull that had been poked in the eye with a burnt stick, out of beer, and down to our last jerry can of petrol.
Next thing, we noticed steam coming up from under the bonnet, so we pulled over and after looking at the radiator from a safe distance, decided the truck needed a long rest so things could cool down.
About 10 mins later, 2 guys in a Holden panel van pulled up and after some serious discussion:
- “G’day mate, where you headin? Truck thrown a wobbly?” “Yeah, radiator’s boiled, bugger! Where you headin?”
“Beach, mate, wanna come down for a dip?” “No worries.” We locked up the truck, piled into the van and were off to the beach. When we got there, it was down to our jocks and straight into the water.
It was beautiful in, so refreshing, and we sort of paddled around a bit and drifted out about 50 yards (roughly the length of 2 chook yards joined together).
Suddenly, someone yelled out “Fins” at the top of their lungs and we were back on the beach in no seconds flat. Looking back out to where we had just been a minute before, we did see a couple of big fins. The sharks must have been really disappointed that their dinner got out of the water so quickly.
We got back to the truck just in time to see a magnificent sunset, and since there was no water left to top up the radiator, we all lined up including the guys with the van to make our contribution to filling up the radiator.
It was just getting dark when we were back on the road, and it was only a few hours later when the three pairs of eyes in the cab at the time, were fixed on the petrol gauge, subconsciously trying to stop it from going into that forbidden zone EMPTY.
Just when all hope was lost, and we had all accepted the fate that we’d be stuck until a semi or road train helped us out with some petrol, Ken saw a very faint sign.
It was still in the distance (no not a Macca’s sign). This sign had been sent from heaven, the closer we got, the more beautiful it became. It was yellow and red.
Just as the truck rolled into the driveway the engine conked out and Chris said “bugger me, Go Well, Go Shell”. After filling the truck with petrol, water, checking the oil, topping the Jerry cans and filling anything that didn’t leak with water, we celebrated.
It was Swan Lagers (WA beer), hamburgers with the lot and chips all round. We were back on the road about midnight. At about 2.00 am I was driving, when up ahead of me in the distance there was a fence across the road???
Stone the crows, I couldn’t believe it. I nudged Paul alongside me to wake him up, and when he was almost human I said “what do you see up ahead?”
He looked, looked again, blinked, rubbed his eyes, burped and said “a fence??” As we got closer, everyone in the cab awake now, I slowed the truck down to a running pace, and there up before our eyes, WAS a fence.
This was no ordinary fence, it was a human fence, made up of about 20 Aboriginal blokes. Each one of them with his arms outstretched, and his hands clamped on the shoulders of the man on either side of him.
And now, for a word from our sponsor, Sorbent Toilet Paper!! (We probably could have used a couple of rolls right then and there:-))
Seriously, you’re probably wondering about the fact there are 3 blokes in the cab of the truck.
Where is the rest of the band and crew? The truth is, we were taking it in turns to sit in the front, 3 of us at a time, the rest were sleeping or reading on a couple of mattresses in the back of the truck with all the gear.
It was a helluva laugh when we changed over every couple of hours, especially in the heat of the day. The fellas coming out of the back of the truck…… mate,
Colonel Sanders would have been proud of ‘em. We rolled in closer and closer to the fence, now down to a walking pace. Russ said “don’t stop whatever you do”.
I wasn’t going to stop anyway, not for all the tea in China, or all the hamburgers they eat on Happy Days. All 3 of us dived for the door locks, and made sure they were secure. As we got to the “fence”, a few of the Aboriginal men jumped up onto the running boards on either side of the cab.
At the same time, there were banging sounds coming around from the back of the truck, as others were trying to open the big doors, luckily bolted and padlocked.
I rolled down my window 2 inches and the bloke next to my window said “stop, we want cigarettes”. The banging on the back continued and we could hear the poor buggers in the back yelling out “what the hell’s going on out there?”
The guy negotiating at my window was getting impatient and started yelling and banging on the window. The 3 of us in the cab looked at each other, and had made our decision. I planted the accelerator, the truck shot forward, anyone hanging on to the outside was left on the dusty road with a face full of bull dust.
Our hearts were pumping, we had that “glad to be alive feeling”. That feeling you get when you nearly have a bad prang or almost fall off the roof, a cliff edge, or a bar stool when you’ve had one too many beers.
Just as dawn was poking it’s nose over the Aussie continent, a big roo came out of nowhere and collided with the front of the truck. The poor thing died instantly, and left us with some serious dings in the front mudguard.
Late that same day we rolled into Perth, ready to Rock’n Roll. So if you’re thinking you’d like to go out bush with us, wack on a pair of thongs, pull on the stubbies, a singlet, grab a slab of beer, throw the barbie on the
Land Cruiser and we’re off to there and back to see how far it is! “In life there are 2 Choices:
Stay within the safety of the womb, protected and unaffected by the outside world,
OR
Get out there and take the risks, make mistakes, fall down and get up again because life is beautiful, exciting and joyous. ”
So, who can afford to waste even a minute??
Ooroo for now!
John from Down Under.
