A trip to Alice

 

The coolest dude in Alice

From 1968 to 1976, I lived in Western Australia where my wife, I and our three boys had emigrated. At the beginning of 1969, I found employment with a large transport, and construction firm. This company was called Bell Brothers and they had hundreds of trucks, and earth moving equipment. It seemed for the first few months I was to be a delivery boy, I spent my time taking new vehicles of all types to all the mining camps in WA. As a result, I got to know my way around Western Australia very well. Bell’s work was not just confined to Western Australia; they had just built a road in Papua New Guinea. Two deliveries took me to Alice Springs; we that is Bells; we're about to build a new road from Alice to Darwin. The first of these trips had me taking a water tanker with a full load of fresh clean water, and then fly home. They wanted the water to use in the camp’s kitchen; when they had emptied the tanker, they would be using bore water for the compacting of the earth road.

 

In the early hours, I headed out of Perth on the Great Eastern Highway, then on ever eastwards through the towns of Northam, Southern Cross, and on to Norseman where I stopped for the night. From here on you are travelling on the Glass highway, the correct name is Eyre highway. It had been nicknamed the Glass highway because of all the many windscreens that had been smashed along its length. The Eyre Highway is or was a dirt road, which runs for many miles in straight lines across the Nullarbor Plain. It is just inland of the Great Australian Bight, and it only bends when it needed to change direction. The Nullarbor is a vast expanse of land, which has no change of scenery to keep you from getting bored. But there were always plenty of potholes to hold your attention on the road and try to avoid at all costs.

 

I was once told, if you see a smooth stretch of road, avoid it, it’s more than likely a pothole filled with dust. I have seen trucks on the side of the road, with broken springs because of driving into one. The only pit stop I can remember was at Eucla, just before the eastern border with South Australia. Here there is a large roadhouse, which has everything for the weary traveller, and I do mean everything. I never really meant to stay the night there, but as I was eating I got talking to some truck drivers. We talked well after we had stopped eating as we sat around sucking on our beer cans well into the night, they told me of a shortcut to Alice. This shortcut to the Stuart highway which ran overland was only passable through the lakes at that time of year. It would save me having to go around via Port Augusta, but most of all it would save me almost six hundred miles of travel.

 

In the morning I got going after breakfast at sunup, turning off the highway after about three hundred miles where I was told to at Wirrulla. Now I was heading north into the bush following the track I was told about, there were no signposts out here to tell me that I was on the right road, and they had told me there would be none. The thick carpet of tyre grounded earth on the road was of a very fine red powder, and seemed to roll away from the tyres like water; it was picked up by the vortex of my passing at the back of the truck.

 

Tossed into the air, it would form a huge cloud of dust. That would hang in the air for an eternity and could be seen for many miles. As it slowly drifted across the bush on the hot gossamer breezes, that ghosted across the hot endless plains.

 

The road split into many sidetracks, that wandered hundreds of yards into the bush, but they always led back to the main track. These were most likely detours around boggy patches that appeared in the wet. When I finally climbed out of the low country, the road returned to its normal red gravel appearance. It ran for miles as straight as an arrow, to disappear into the distance like a long red ribbon. I had just driven one hundred miles through the area they call ‘The Lakes,’ and I had not seen a drop of water. This was now wide open flat plain; the only thing to spoil the view was a cloud of dust coming towards me. It turned out to be a dust trail, from one of Bells low loaders returning home from Alice. We stopped nose to nose and had a chat for half an hour. He told me where to find the campsite, but I would most likely find the men in Alice. He also told me not to say that I had come this way, as the company forbade taking shortcuts on unmade roads.

 

The most important thing he told me was where to get a good meal in Coober-Pedy, now if you haven’t heard of Coober-Pedy you won’t know the town is mostly underground. The ground is a white clay substance which they dig opals from; as they dig the opal they move into the mine making it their home. It was dark when I pulled into the pubs large parking area. Walking into the café, I asked if it was okay to park for the night. I was told ‘yes’ but if that thing is full of fuel, park it in the corner as far away as possible. His eye’s lit up as I said not fuel, but fresh soft sweet water from Perth. He then made me an offer that was very hard to refuse, (so I didn’t,) an evening meal a jug of beer and breakfast, for a four hundred gallon refill of his water tank. In the pub's bar that night I was offered several pieces of opal, by some of the miners. Some ground and polished, others rough and straight from the diggings. I had to decline them all, as I didn't have a lot of money to carry.

 

Realising I was not in the market to buy, one old miner after several glasses of my beer showed me how to tell a good opal. He had rings of varying value that looked the same to me until he explained how they were made. The most important thing to do is to turn the ring, so you are looking at the back of the opal. If you cannot see the stone, but just a black backing it is not one piece of opal but a thin layer of good opal topped with clear or milky opal. The black substance has a layer of mercury on it. It has the same effect as if you put it onto glass, and turns it into a mirror. The light and the colours of the good opal are reflected in the clear opal, making it look expensive.

 

In the morning I was up with the sun and joined the early risers for a breakfast of steak and eggs. Most of the work is done early in the morning, as by midday it gets a bit too hot, so they stop until evening then would start again. It is about four hundred and fifty miles, or if you prefer seven hundred km’s from Coober-Pedy to Alice Springs. I had about eight hours or more driving before I reached Alice, I should be there around mid-afternoon. As I drove into Alice, it was not the town I had imagined. I had seen the film, read the book, but it did not fit the picture I had in my mind.

 

It looked like any other outback town, with its tin-roofed buildings lining the wide main road into town. Then there was the buildings of a past era, the magnificent two-storey colonial-style houses, with their overhanging roofs and balconies, stood in the centre of the town. With the imposing building that was the bank, at the very heart of this historic and iconic settlement. That is in fact at the very heart of this country.

 

The wide main street had many cars and open-backed ute’s, {‘utility vehicle’, in England it’s called a pickup’} parked with there noses to the curb; ‘mostly outside the hotel’. Parked amidst them, were a Bells station wagon and a Ute. I found somewhere to park, then walked back and entered the hotel. I did not know who I was looking for, but one word loudly shouted had someone waving at me, {BELLS!}. He asked me where I had parked and then told me to go and fetch my overnight things. I could leave it where it was as they would book me into the hotel for the night. In the morning we would all go out to the campsite, together.

 

I had left Perth Monday morning; it was now Thursday evening, four long hot days later. I was ready for a night in a proper bed and a cool air-conditioned room, instead of a sleeping bag on top of the truck roof. Now don’t get me wrong, I liked to sleep out in the open. The sky at night in the outback is so clear, you feel as if you can touch the stars. Normally there are so many stars, you don’t see because of light pollution. But out there in the bush they are so bright and plentiful it is never really dark. All Bells solo drivers were issued with swag rolls, a seven-foot square of waxed canvas. A six-foot-long by two and a half foot wide foam mattress, it was two-inches thick. With a sleeping bag and pillow and two leather belts, that made up your sleeping roll. You had all you needed for a comfy nights sleep, and there was a rack on the back of the cab, to store it.

 

After an early breakfast, I was on my way, on the last leg of this trip into the centre of Australia. We were heading to a spot just South of Ti-Tree, a mere dot on the map one hundred and forty miles away. Here halfway between Alice and Tennant Creek, was to be the campsite. I said, was to be, because at the moment there was nothing there, just a large front-end loader. A small hut, a tent and some pegs in the ground. They had marked out the camp, showing where to put the units. The camps boss told me that the company’s jet would be in on Tuesday with eight men. I could fly back in it, or there would be other trucks arriving from now on. I could go back with one of the driver’s and share the driving. I said the plane if you don’t mind. He then asked, “Can you drive that thing?” pointing to the cat 966 loader. I replied, “I have never driven one that big, I had driven a JCB when I worked on SWEB but I was no expert”. “Near enough,” he said, “play with it for an hour then we will see if we can get some work done,” then walked away.

 

The first job he wanted was an unloading ramp, a gentle slope to four feet deep the dirt piled on top at the deep end then graded back. With no crane, we had to drag the units off the trailers and into place with the loader. The units had large skids, attached for this purpose.

 

Next was a deep pit some distance away from the camp with ramps either end the dirt to be piled on the side nearest the camp, it was to house the generator unit. Then there was to be a pit for the fuel tank, which had to be buried to keep it cool. As I was finishing the generator pit, three trucks pulled in each loaded with units. We backed the first trailer down the ramp. I hooked the chains onto the first unit and pulled the generator into its pit. On the same trailer was a twenty-foot chill room, loaded with all types of stores from potatoes to beer, its small engine running to keep it the right temperature.

 

It was dragged into its pegged out position, the second trailer held the dining room; it too was positioned parallel to the chill room some twenty feet from it. Now came the cookhouse or galley, forty feet long, one end was the servery, a large deep-freezer at the other end it's engine also running. It was pulled across the ends of the dining and chill rooms. Some panels were removed from the galley, and then both chill and dining room were pushed until they locked into the galley sides. Soft rubber buffers, on the ends, sealed the units together. The main part of the camp was now set-up. There would be thirty living units in all, each with five single rooms. Also, shower and toilet units would be needed. In the failing light, two living units arrived and were pulled into their allotted position. It was now after five, the generator was working and hooked up to the galley. And the cooks were busy preparing us a meal; John the camp boss was well pleased with the way things had gone. As we were eating our meal he ordered a carton of beer and put it on the Bell’s tab.

 

Saturday we awoke to find three trucks with units that had crept in overnight, we unloaded them before breakfast, as we had been told we were all going to Alice for the festival. In Alice, I watched camel, and donkey racing. Also, sheep with rag dolls, tied onto their backs as jockeys, were raced. But the highlight of the day I was told would be the boat race. I laughed when I heard this. “Where,” said I “In the swimming pool,” “No,” said they “In the river.” The river or creek was bone dry, it looked like there had not been water in it, for years. I got up, and walked away still laughing, and came across a happy bunch of Jackaroos. (‘Australian cowboys.’) I got talking to one of them; he told me they had come in from their station a hundred miles away for the day’s festivities.

 

Then I told him that my friends had tried to tell me, there would be a boat race here in the river today. He smiled and said, “That’s right sport; there are the boats down there.” I looked to where he was pointing and saw the row of gaily-painted hulls. I shook my head in disbelief grinning I said, “No water.” He leaned forward and called out, “Hay Jack-O’; this bloke reckons there's no water in the creek.”

 

A very old battered Australian bush hat leaned out of the crowd, beneath it an ebony face, with a distinctive flat nose, and two bloodshot eyes looked at me. Then the face split into a grin, a grin that I could promise you would never be used in a toothpaste advert. Then he spoke; “That because him white feller, only people in touch with mother earth can see water. The rainbow serpent, (‘mythical serpent from the Aborigine Dreamtime’) him lives upriver he drinks all the water. When he pees, it becomes Dreamtime water. You can’t see it but you can feel it, you walk into the creek and see.” I just sat there, I had fallen for some things in my life, but I was not falling for this one.

 

He got up, picking up the cool box beside him as he did so. Walking into the creek he shivered, saying how cold the water was. Then tilting the container, he made to force it under the surface to fill it. He then staggered up to me, straining under its imagery weight. I sat there with a silly grin, knowing full well that it was empty. When the deluge came, it took me completely by surprise. The shock of it left me spluttering and gasping for breath. The water was so cold it still had ice cubes in it, plus some beer bottle labels. I had fallen for the, ‘not as empty as you thought trick.’

 

All around me people were standing clapping, and roaring with laughter. Some, (‘my new found Bells work-mates’,) were rolling on the ground in hysterics. It seemed I had become apart of the day’s entertainment, but I can tell you this. I bet I was at that moment, ‘The coolest dude in Alice’.

 

When the crews for the big race stepped into their hulls, they knelt down and pulled, what looked like braces over their shoulders. Then holding onto the crossbars, which held the two sides together, they stood as one hoisting the hulls off the ground revealing their legs. Walking to the start, they formed up in line. A gun was fired, and off they went. The crowd went wild, shouting encouragement to their favourite crew. Now don’t ask me the rules, I don’t think there are any. I don’t know if the winning crew; was the one who past the finish line first. Or the one, who sank the most, boats. One boat finished in two, the stern twenty feet in front of the bow. It came in fourth and sixth.

 

By Tuesday morning most of the camp was complete. I was to drive the Ute to the airstrip, followed by the station wagon. The men arriving on the plane would use it to carry their gear back to the camp. As I was tossing my swag into the Ute, John came up to me to say goodbye. He asked me if I wanted to change my mind, and stay to work with him. He had said he would give Jane a job in the camp, and the boys could go to school in Alice. At the interview to Immigrate Jane had said she wanted to go to Alice Springs, but I did not think she would like the heat. I thanked him again, saying I would talk to Jane about it.

 

I arrived at Bell’s yard that afternoon and reported to Owen that I was back. He told me to have a couple of days off; he would ring me when he needed me. Getting into my car I drove to the immigrant camp at Graylands, which was our temporary first home in Australia just in time for tea. I had been away for eight days; it seemed more like a month.

 

Imprint

Publication Date: 11-09-2017

All Rights Reserved

Dedication:
If you are interested in the construction of large products go to youtube and search BELL BROTHERS ENTER THE SEVENTIES.