Chapter 14: Grafton - I

Willy’s instructions reminded me of Julia’s directions to Winston in nineteen eighty-four.

She outlined the route that he was to follow. A half-hour railway journey; turn left outside the station; two kilometres along the road; a path across a field; a grass-grown lane; a dead tree with moss on it...

Driving north wasn’t very exciting, though crossing the Hastings on the bridge I’d gone under two days ago with Morna was certainly interesting. The Pacific Highway was well west of the Pacific – the Tasman Sea – at this point. And I drove past Telegraph Point, crossing the Wilson River without any interest. Limeburners Creek was to the east, and the beach was supposed to be lovely there, but I forged ahead. I crossed the Macleay to Frederickton at just an hour, so I wasn’t driving too fast.

There was little traffic, so I speeded up till I got to Macksville, just halfway between Sydney and Brisbane. I crossed the Nambucca and caught sight of the Sea as I passed the Heads. North of Coffs Harbor (around Arrawarra) the highway veered inland and about a half hour later I saw signs for Bon Bon, then Four Mile Lane and Old Lilypool Road. I turned off, the road meandered a bit, there was the flower shop; I turned right onto Keiro and stopped in the drive at the last house.

I had no time to query whether I was at the right house, for the door opened and a blonde in a tee shirt and shorts came running towards me.

“You’re here!”

“You look gorgeous, as usual.”

“Flatterer!”

“Where’s your lord and master?”

“I sent him to the local Coles with a short list. Come in.”

“OK, but I want to hear all the news.”

“You’re the one who’s been travelling; you need to talk about your adventures.”

“Later. I don’t want to tell my saga twice.”

“What would you like to drink?”

“Coffee, if you have it. Water, otherwise.”

We sat and I repeated, “So, what’s the news?”

“Well, as you can see, neither of us is a gardener. We cruise together and sometimes fly. You recall that I got rid of the Mooney about ten or twelve years ago?” I nodded. “Well, I got a bargain on a Beechcraft, thanks to my friends in Amberley. A smuggling confiscation. Drugs, I suppose, as it’s not big enough for people. But big enough for a family of four. So I flew up with Evans and we each flew back to Clarence Valley Regional. I posted the Mooney and sold it for about $80. So it cost me less for my confiscated Beechcraft Baron G58 than for the Mooney ten years earlier.”

“You’re a real wheeler-dealer!”

“One of us has to be. But the Baron burns 100LL at a higher rate. But nothing like Evans’ toy.”

“What’s that?”

“I should let him tell you. His eyes light up. It’s a Bayliner 2800 Avanti Wide Body sports cruiser with a 2008 Volvo 5.7L OSI duo-prop. He’ll show you the rest when you go out.” I heard a car pull up.

“Hey!” came a familiar voice, “Some arsehole’s blocked the drive!”

“That’s me, Evans. How are you?”

“Better than I deserve. Here, Willy. I think I got everything on your list.” He turned to me: “No beer?”

“Not before noon.”

“It’s nearly 1300. What are you? On western time?”

“Waiting for lunch and you, old salt!”

Evans gave me a hug. “I’m glad to see you. I spoke to Patrick about two months ago and he had us worried.”

“I’m a lot better, thanks.”

“Where’d you go?”

“You’re kidding! Let’s see ... Kurrajong, Lithgow, Mudgee, Nyngan, Wilcannia, White Cliffs, Tibooburra, Cameron Corner, Innamincka, Epsilon Station, Nockatunga, Cunnamulla, Lightning Ridge, Armidale, Port Macquarie, here. But that’s leaving out many things.”

“Three states: New South, South Australia and Queensland.”

“Right. I went on a paddleboat and wondered why parents didn’t push noisy kids into the river and then learned to hate most tourists when I was at Innamincka along Coopers Creek. But I met some interesting folks and an ex-student from Perth and several Aboriginal groups, and I saw opal mines and an organic cattle station and actually went fishing a few days ago.”

“Really!”

“Boys! Food’s on the table!” came Willy’s voice.

During lunch I asked Evans about his boat.

“I had a four or five metre boat to fish from, but it was far too small for four. So I went luxury when Scott was ten or twelve. My new boat features two solar panels, fridge, two double bunks, a large swim platform with safety rails, transom shower, holding tank, aluminium RIB with 6hp outboard, a TV, microwave, and full camper covers and clears. We go out on the water in a virtual house!”

“Wow! Next step up, you’ll buy something from the Coast Guard!”

“No thanks. Any bigger and I’d never get far enough upstream for the bass.”

“Actually, we share our toys,” Willy said. “Evans has maintained his pilot’s license and we go out cruising the Clarence together.”

“And the kids?”

“Well, Scott’s gone into the Navy. He did history and politics at Queensland and is now at Recruit School, near Melbourne. He spent more time in the old boat than I did once he was big enough to handle it.”

“Olwen’s enjoying it at UNE. She was a bit isolated at school as the only gay in her class.”

“I hadn’t realized.”

“Doesn’t matter to us,” said Willy. “She’s quite outspoken, but I don’t think she’s gone in for tattoos or wearing leathers. And this is an OK state. [The decriminalization of homosexual sex was passed through NSW Parliament on May 22, 1984.] Olwen wants to go into politics. I can see her as a member of the Legislative Assembly [lower house of Parliament] in a few years.”

“What does Scott think?”

“He doesn’t seem to care,” Evans remarked. “At least he doesn’t have to insist his sister needs to date a random cadet he knows.”

“I guess not, unless he meets a female cadet who...” The both laughed.

“Anyway,” Willy said, “What’s going on with Sarah?”

“Honestly, I don’t know. She did a year at Cowan, then a course in taxidermy, then she started a course on large animals. But Patrick introduced her to Henry, who’s a Hawaiian, complete with tattoos, and she went off with him to Hawaii to meet his family. It’s not clear to me whether they’ve actually been married. But she’s off with him. Patrick spoke with her a few days ago. They were on Vanuatu.”

Willy was curious. “What does Henry do?”

“He’s a doctoral candidate in Pacific anthropology. He’s doing his dissertation on some artifacts in my Museum.”

“Aha!” cried Evans. “That’s why you wanted to get in touch with Perk last year.”

“Exactly. But that’s too long a tale for right now.”

“OK, then. Tell us about Patrick and Rachel.”