If you have never been to the top end of Australia, unless you have to be there, or need good pay - don't go.
It is hot and humid, the undergrowth is full of slithery things that bite to kill. You can't swim in the rivers; the biting things there grow 16 feet long, swim underwater and eat you. They are the 'salties', sea going crocodiles and they are protected by law. Obviously humans aren't covered by the same law so quite a few go missing, often unnoticed for months or years in this untamed, wild and sparsely populated part of the country.
The sea is full of man eating sharks, little box jelly fish that sting you to death and stingrays.
And there are the flies. Not just a few, not just a few hundred but thousands upon thousands that only want to drink your sweat. But the fishing is good. Not far away they catch the mammoth tiger prawns which go well on a barbecue and also make excellent bait. As they say up here "You have to be desperate to live here, mad to choose to, and crazy when they take you out of here."
So here I was in Weipa, at the top end of Cape York peninsular. A small community of about 800 people, of whom only a few hundred were female, and all because of a red earth called bauxite. The bulk of the population are single males working on the diggings 12 miles away; carrying the bauxite in 40 ton specially made carrier trucks to the port and loading it onto ships. There are a few full time residents involved in the hotel, some shops and auxiliary services. Then there are the bush pilots who come and go regularly.
Weipa is one of the largest open cast mining centres of bauxite mining in the Southern Hemisphere. They ship the earth directly to Bluff at the southernmost point of New Zealand where a massive refinery converts it to aluminium (or alumina if you live in the USA). And what on earth was I doing here?
I was doing the monthly stock-take of the liquor supply, and gearing the staff for conversion to computer control from head office. It had taken me all day to fly the 2000 miles from Brisbane, after a 40 minute drive from Surfers Paradise to the airport. It was my job as Marketing & Admin Manager for the President Hotel Corporation, who had 6 hotels throughout Queensland. Head Office was based at the back of the Broadbeach Hotel in Surfers Paradise.
The Manager of the Albatross Hotel in Weipa was a very friendly American called Frank. His 2nd in charge was a Frenchman, Anton, renowned for his knowledge of wine.
The liquor stock for the hotel was sent by barge from Cairns, around the top of the Cape and 12 miles inland up the Missionary River. The journey took 3 months and the shipment included hundreds of pallets of beer in aluminium barrels; cartons of spirits and bottled beer -- the famous 'stubby'. Oh yes and of course some fine wines and carbonated soft drinks. Over $250,000 in value per trip.
Amazingly from over 30,000 items on the stock sheet the only thing unaccounted for was a single bottle of Johnny Walkers Red label whisky. Until Anton remembered they had some V.I.P's from the mining corporation that Frank had entertained in his private suite, and they drank whisky. Problem solved -- 1 bottle Johnny Walker written off under 'Entertaining V.I.P's.'
This area also has heavy rains, heavy enough to prevent the Friendship turboprop aircraft from landing. Owned by the mine, they were the only way in or out -- there was no road. And so dutifully the rainy season began and it poured for 4 days.
I had been due to fly out tomorrow back to Cairns (a 3 hour flight) but now I was stuck in the hotel. Because when the 'Wet' arrived it could rain for weeks and everything became flooded -- including the runway.
I was largely left to my own devices because the Management staff have plenty to do, and don't need a Head Office fellow hanging around them all day.
There wasn't really much you could do in a place like this with the rain thundering down, temperature outside in the high 90's but a comparatively cool 72 inside, courtesy of air conditioning. So I decided to do a wander around the non public areas of the hotel. My position in the company allows me to go anywhere (except maybe the ladies' toilets) and it wasn't long before Anton saw me wandering around.
He approached and said "Mr Higginbottom, can I be of any assistance?" I explained I was just trying to pass time by exploring the 'pub'.
"Aaah qui, it can be so boring on these types of days." " Perhaps the weather will fine up and then you can go fishing."
"Let's hope so Anton otherwise it is going to be more than a bit boring for 4 days."
"Perhaps Mademoiselle Harris should join you; she too is not sure how to pass the time." he said.
"And who is this Harris person -- I haven't seen anyone else in this place except me."
"She is something to do with medical supplies who came in by bush pilot just this morning from Groote Island missionary station. She will be waiting for connection to Cairns just like you. Perhaps you might meet her in the Lounge bar before lunch."
I thanked him for his advice then wandered in to the kitchen. I had met the chef Dave on my last trip. He wasn't much older than I was, about late 30's but his Dad also worked in the kitchen. There is (or was) a fabulous Australian artist called Joliffe, whose cartoons depicting two outback Aussie farmers were legend. They were also called Dad and Dave and this real life couple could have been the models for the cartoons.
Dad in particular with his beer gut hanging over a dilapidated pair of khaki shorts; skinny bowed legs; a black singlet that just rested at the top of his gut, and a semi bald head of flyaway ginger hair. There were also millions of freckles all over him -- on the other hand they could have been fly droppings. About 70 years old he had a gentle manner and a heart of gold.
"Gidday Jimmy," he chortled as I wandered in," heard you were back to bother us. Pity 'bout the weather 'cos the sea trout been running for weeks."
"Gidday yourself Dad." "What delights are you two drumming up for lunch?"
"Well knowing there aren't many in the house," said Dave, wiping his hands on his apron as he approached, " wondered if you might be interested in a mud crab for lunch. One of the abbo's brought in a pile in exchange for some grog."
I laughed and said "That was convenient seeing as how we have just finished stock-take."
"Nah." said Dave. "We have an allocation for cooking with, as you know, but it doesn't all get used so we use left over half bottles to trade with aboriginal's for all sorts of specialities -- some you don't even want to hear about. For example there is also buffalo steak on for lunch if you prefer. We are told the abbo's found one bogged in mud so it ends up here."
"Tell the bosses back at head office it also cuts down on provisioning costs" he added with a laugh.
"Thanks I'll stay with the 'muddy,' see you in about ½ an hour" I said as I made my way out to the Lounge Bar. It had an air conditioned non- smoking area but with access to a patio area surrounded by gauze to keep out flies and other insects. Needing a smoke, I wandered up to the bar and got a handle of beer then went out onto the patio area.
Over in a corner, reading a book was a female. The book was held at face level so I couldn't see it. However the upper half of the body looked great. Bare shoulders, holding up a couple of straps from a loose fitting dress. The straps were pushed out to quite a nice angle as they reached the bosom. The legs were very shapely too and nicely tanned.
She heard the doors swing shut behind me, lowered the book to see who had entered, then put the book back up as if nothing abnormal had happened. I wandered over to the other side, lit up a smoke and idly glanced through an old 'London Illustrated' that had probably been there since the War.
Dave came in about 10 minutes later to announce that lunch was almost ready. We both got up together and being 6 foot 3 inches, I was surprised to see she was close to 6 foot in height. She was also quite attractive with long black hair. Her reading glasses framed a pair of brown eyes and her face was definitely part Polynesian. She was also quite young so I was intrigued to find out what kind of medical provisions she was involved in.
Dave had set up a table in one corner and invited us to share it.
"Makes it a bit easier for serving up if you don't mind Miss." "I don't mind at all," I said, "but perhaps we should be properly introduced."
Dave said "Miss Rebecca Harris, meet Jimmy Higginbottom." She nodded and I smiled, then pulled out a chair for her. I waited as she sat so as to push it in towards the table, but I also was trying to sneak a look down the front of her loose dress front. Unsuccessfully, as it turned out.
She had decided on a salad whilst I had the mud crab, which as always, was delicious in melted butter. There wasn't a lot of conversation in between the eating, but I did discover she worked for a Family Planning outfit and had some basic First Aid knowledge as well. She had been on Groote Eylandt (it's original Dutch name) some 500 miles away to the west. Evidently there were some sectors of indigenous tribes who were multiplying with gusto but there were worrying tribal groups where births had almost ceased entirely.
She had been on a fact finding mission when tribal elders in one group became aggressive, advising here to leave "before harm comes to you", so she had radioed for a bush pilot to collect her and just made it here before the rain began.
I asked her "So what is your next move?"
"I will have to go back as soon as I can so that this tribe doesn't set the others against me, and undo all the work we have achieved so far." said Rebecca.
"Well if I can help in any way don't hesitate to give me a yell." I said." I will either become stir crazy or perpetually drunk if I am left alone for 4 days."
Her look softened and she said slowly and softly, "Thanks I might have to take you up on that, if only to prevent you getting drunk, but are you free to go to the Island?"
