Back of Beyond

Outback Australia can be an isolated and strange place at times, take for instance my experience last year as I drove the back way from Alice Springs to Gidgialpa Station in North Eastern South Australia.

The water pump on my Toyota failed and I found myself in some quiet little town too small to have a proper name. The local mechanic said it would be two days until parts arrived so I booked a room at the local hotel and went to the bar for a drink.

I found an empty bar stool and ordered a whiskey.

“Sorry mate” said the barman, “we’re not allowed to serve spirits. Local by-law”

“You mean a man can’t get a whiskey around here at all?” I inquired.

“Well,” said the barman, “You could try the chemist. He’s allowed to sell whiskey for medical purposes.”

So off I go to the chemist, where I ask for a shot of their finest whiskey.

The chemist frowned, tut-tutted and shook his head. “Whiskeys for medical purposes,” he said. “You must have a prescription. Why don’t you go see Dr.Bury. His place is just up the road. He might be able to help.”

So off I go to the doctors’ surgery.

“Cant help you son,” The doctor told me. “I’m only allowed to write a prescription for whiskey for someone who’s been bitten by a snake. I suggest you head on down to the shire office. The clerk down there keeps a pet snake.”

Half an hour later I’m back at the bar and asking for a beer.

“Couldn’t get a whiskey then?” asked the barman.

“Nah,” says I, “The bloody snake’s booked up for the next three weeks.”

The tale of the Drop Bear

It is well understood that the Dropbear has evolved over thousands of years. It's diminutive cousin the Koala was more often found in dryer areas of Australia where it's herbivorous lifestyle was a natural adaptation to scarce food supplies. Conversely, Dropbear prides were more common in sub-tropical forests, where larger mammals (a primary food source) were more prevalent. The population density along coastal areas accounts for the less than comfortable relationship shared over the years by humans and Dropbears. Due to habitat destruction, many Dropbear prides have divided over the years, some of which head further inland in search of more plentiful food sources, and safer environments in which to raise cubs. This in turn has displaced some koala populations. This in fact serves to provide the Australian government with a convenient cover story. They (and others) claim that coastal Koala habitats are being destroyed, thereby lowering the count of koala's typically seen around urban Australia. This is a fallacy, as koala's never inhabited coastal areas in any great numbers due to the Dropbear not being particularly concerned with matters of etiquette regarding the feeding on relatives. However, since many tourists tend to be disappointed that they do not see a koala in every eucalyptus tree, the government perpetuates this story of an endangered species in a shrinking habitat. As horrible as it is, it sounds a lot better than saying "Oh, those cuddly things? Yeah, the Dropbears ate them all".



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The best dog in the world

On a camping trip many years ago we were camped just outside an outback town in the north of South Australia.
Desert country, and hard to imagine that anything really lives out here...though ‘live’ might be too hard a word, ‘survive’ might suit better.
But survive they do, camels, pigs, kangaroo, emu, rabbit and for our purposes…Goats.
We were on a two week shooting trip to cull as many ferrel goats as we could. Everyday was spent hunting them by 4WD where possible but up hill and down gorge by foot where necessary. As you can imagine that can be quite tiring, especially after a few days of it. So it was that we were in town at the local watering hole, The Transcontinental.
Downing a few beers after a long hot day is good for you, don’t you know!

The most valuable member of our team sat tied in the back of the 4WD, ‘Blue’ the Red Healer dog.
It was Blue that ran the ridges to scare the goats down, it was Blue that runs along the gullies to keep them from escaping into the next hill, and this he did without a word from us. Wherever he was needed ‘Blue’ was there right on time, every time. He shared our food, water, fire and beds.

Inside the pub, the drinking continued. Inside the pub, the gullies got deeper and the hills became higher.
Soon enough the talk came to ‘Blue’ , and that he was, of course, the smartest dog that ever lived….

Graham, the publican disagreed. He felt for sure that he had the better dog.
‘Bouncer’ was clearly the best dog in the district, and any man that knew him would attest…
Our side held the ground for ‘Blue’…words were spoken, veiled threats were made, a wager struck and before I had any idea what was going on, we were out in the car park, beers in hand to sort this out the way drunken men do in Australia.
A Contest!

Terry went to our 4WD, untied ‘Blue’ and gave the command.
“Go Blue, Tucker time!”
The dog barked, wagged his tail and scampered off into the darkness. It was back in a few minutes with a mouthful of twigs, which it piled on the ground. Then, using his front paws he rubbed the twigs together until they burst into flame.
With another bark, the dog bounded into the back of the 4WD and grabbed a Billy between his teeth. He scampered down to the creek and returned to put the full Billy on the fire.
“There!” said Terry. “What d’ya think of that, then?”

Between swigs of beer Graham slurred
“Not bad, not bad at all, but he’s not good enough to beat ‘Bouncer.”
And so saying, Graham untied Bouncer from his place under the pub steps.
“Go Bouncer, Brew time!”
The dog easily repeated ‘Blues’ performance, fetching wood, lighting a fire and getting a Billy full of water from the creek.
But it did more,.. and we assembled drinkers applauded as ‘Bouncer’, having put the Billy on to boil, shot off to the publicans chicken coop and grabbed a new-laid egg, which it gently popped into the Billy.
And then, to everyone’s astonishment (except the publican’s) he stood on his head, his back legs waving in the air.
We were amazed and drank more beer to celebrate.
“What’s he doing that for?” Terry demanded.
“Like I told ya,” said the publican. “Bouncer’s an intelligent dog. He knows I broke my eggcup this morning….”




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