Jack was bored. The bar was empty and his beer tasted flat. The frumpy barmaid was away in a world of her own ignoring his calls for a fresh glass. The pub was a dump. The southern absentee owners used it to rip off as much money as possible while spending next to nothing on their itinerant customers.
Jack brushed the flies away and gave up. Mumbling to himself he headed out into the forty degree heat of the tropical North Queensland summer. He rolled down to the post office only to be told once more there was no mail for Jack Johnston. "No one wants an old burnt out fisherman," he growled. "Even the bloody Post office is giving me the arse."
Down in the dumps with nothing to do he slumped down on the bench under the big Moreton Bay fig tree and watched the few tourists who were stupid enough to be out in the noon day sun stagger past. Spying a newspaper someone had left on the ground near the bench Jack picked it up and glanced through its few pages. He was about to throw it away when the words oyster bank caught his eye.
Oyster Bank
North Queensland Remote Island
Surrounded by National Park.
8 hectares, 50 year lease.
As new 9 meter alloy landing Barge.
Protected anchorage with permitted accom.
Solar and wind power, Tons of fresh water.
Owner will be at Sovereign Hotel
For one week ending December 2
Ask for Mary. All offers considered.
Jack sat back and thought about his life and what he was going to do now he had sold his trawler and his fishing licenses. He wasn't short of money and didn't have to work. City life bored him and he knew pub life would eventually destroy him. An oyster bank that took him away from the vices of the city may be the life saver he needed.
With nothing else to do he wandered down to the Sovereign Hotel ordered a beer and asked for Mary. He was sipping his beer and thinking that he knew little about breeding and fattening oysters other than it was hard work when a quiet voice asked, "you want Mary?" Turning around he discovered a tall slim black woman.
"Sorry missus," he groaned. "I was looking for the Mary with the oyster bank for sale." Her face broke into a wide grin. "That's me boss, you want to buy it?" Jack was embarrassed he had not expected a black woman to be the owner. To hide his embarrassment he offered her a beer. "No beer boss, pubs no place for blackfella," she grinned "you come with me; I'll take you to see oysters."
Down at the wharf she led him to some lads loading bags of oysters onto a truck. She pointed to the bags." Good quality plate oysters will bring over $600 a bag, small milkies and others are worth just over $300. That's the last load from the oyster bank that Sam bagged before he died."
Jack could have kicked himself when he asked, "Who was Sam?" She turned away before she spoke, "He was my mate, he took me away from my tribe in the gulf when I turned eighteen. We lived together for ten years on that oyster lease until he died last month." She turned back to look at him steadily, "If you are interested I can run you out in the barge." she looked up at the noon day sun, "if we leave now we will be there just on dark."
"Hang on a minute," Jack growled. "If I read you right that looks like a four or five hour trip. I don't even know whether I want to buy an oyster lease. I know nothing about them." Mary shrugged. "Look mister you are the only one who has shown any interest. I have to go back. I am not making a special trip."
"You can come with me and I'll bring you back to the coast in the morning. I'd love to show you what's there and you will be company for me; it's a lonely trip without Sam." She stopped for a minute. "That's why I'm selling; too many memories and its too lonely now he's gone."
By the time Jack slipped back to the pub and grabbed his gear Mary had loaded her provisions and was waiting for him on the barge. "Hop aboard old fella," she called as Jack stood inspecting the barge. "Lets get underway; you can take the wheel and learn all about her over the next few hours."
After they left the harbor and headed south down the coast Jack took the wheel and settled back as Mary made a pot of tea. "What are you smiling about?" she asked when she sat his cup of tea on the wheelhouse table.
Jack couldn't help smiling. He had realized as soon as he felt the barge respond to his hands on the wheel what he had been missing. "I've just discovered what I have been missing. I love the sea it's nice to get aboard a well built vessel. I haven't handled a small barge before. I must say I am surprised she handles so well especially when she's powered by that big outboard. Who ever built her knew his business."
Mary sat down on the bunk and watched him as he turned the barge to head south east. "Sam built it. He said the outboard would be more practical than an inboard motor in the shallows near the oyster rocks. He was an expert sailor. I had only been in dinghies until we came here. He taught me to handle the barge and another old trawler that we wrecked on our lease. The local harbormaster says I am the only aborigine woman in the north that holds a master mariners ticket."
The sun was slowly sinking towards the horizon when Mary took the wheel. She laughed when he objected. "Its low tide so it will be best if I take you through the channel."
"A lot of yachts and commercial vessels pass close by. Sam found visitors a nuisance so the entrance is unmarked. It is very narrow. Our beam is eleven feet the channel is not much wider."
Jack was shown the value of the big outboard when she used the power trim and tilt to ease the barge up into the shallows and onto the beach. "We could never reach here with the old trawler," Mary said as she walked the mooring ropes up to posts buried high in the sand. "Pick up that rope at the stern and haul it tight it will keep the barge straight tonight at the top of the tide." Jack smiled as she issued instructions she was a natural Skipper and he did as he was told. Mary saw his smile and called, "Hop to it old man before it gets dark."
The twilight was fading as the last of the gas and provisions were locked up in the shed. The mooring and unloading was slow even with the easy access provided by lowering the ramp.
Jack was sweating as he stood in the shadows and inspected the hut. Like many hundreds of shacks that dotted the northern coastline it was constructed of galvanized roofing iron. The walls windows and roof were made of iron. The widows were pushed up and out then propped open with a piece of hardwood.
The floor was a solid concrete slab. A water tank stood on a tall stand at the rear close to a southern cross windmill that Jack suspected doubled up to pump water from the spear pump and provide power to the storage batteries he had seen in the shed.
As they stepped in the door Mary hit a switch and a hidden generator purred into life flooding the room with light. "My god," Jack exclaimed, "it's a mansion in here." She laughed excitedly. "Sam told me he was the bastard son of an English aristocrat. He used to laugh when he was drunk and speak of the family banishing the bastard son to the colonies. He received money every month from England he called himself a remittance man."
"Sam wanted us to be comfortable here so when he went over to the mainland to collect his remittance he would spend it immediately on what he called life's little luxuries. For example we have solar hot water showers and a satellite phone and television service. We have sufficient power from generators the windmill and the solar panels to provide more than adequate lighting and refrigeration including a portable air conditioner in our bedroom."
"Then we have our dry eco friendly toilet. It's the reason for that big hill of sand out the back away from the shore."
"The marine park authority approved and supervised its construction, it was very expensive. They come here all the time to check that we meet all their regulations and rules. We collect and recycle our grey water. Those paw-paw banana and mangoes are all watered by a drip system from a grey water storage tank back near the toilet. Without the eco toilet and the grey water tank we would not be allowed to live here."