I was 16 years old, coming home from school on a Friday afternoon. My mother was home from work to meet me. She explained she had met a man and was going to leave with him to travel Australia on Monday, so I needed to find a place to live. My father would not have me, as he was married to a woman that wanted me erased from his life to start a new family. So my sister took me.
My sister. God lover her – Larger than life. Locked up overnight in Darwin for fighting six aboriginal men in a bar. And winning. She was now working as a cook with her Husband, a contract cattle musterer, going between huge (and I mean huge – the size of England huge) cattle stations in the west, with large teams of cattleman to bring in the cattle each year to the yards.
I arrived by coach at the local township, and was taken the several hours by dirt road to the main station. The next morning, the old station owner decided to test my metal. He took me aside and said “can you ride a horse” I said yes. He then proceeded to show me how to use a fencing tool. A gruesome steel contraption to stretch steel wire. He threw me a swag (rolled up bed) and some rations, and pointed to a fence line. “Ride that way until you reach a fence to the right. Fix every fence on your way. When it gets dark camp. Keep going in the morning. Should take a few days” An adventure!
“Careful of snakes”
Fuck that!. Do you have any idea how many noises are in the Australian outback at night? Dingo’s, snakes, and spiders, are seconded only to getting lost and never found. Let’s just say I was back the following evening having fixed every fence on route….well most of them maybe. Hard to tell at a gallop.
I spent the next few moths as an apprentice Jackaroo (Cattleman), rising at 4AM to eat lamb chops/sausages/bacon/steak and eggs. Corned meet for lunch, and Ribs for dinner. I didn’t shit for two weeks.
I flew on the skids of an open cockpit helicopter riding shotgun. Salt pellets in a 12 gauge to shoot any cattle in the ass that didn’t move. The Pilot was ex-Vietnam, and so was the chopper by the looks of it. He thought it would be funny to do a loop whilst I was outside the helicopter over a 1000ft cliff. When I say loop – yes I mean somersault. Fucker! He crashed on his way home the next day. Apparently it was an old Helicopter after all.
I finally went back to my hometown in boots with a big belt buckle with matching hat. My girlfriend had hooked up with one of my best mates. I didn’t care – I was a man now!
(The girlfriend stayed with the mate and they had kids and a mortgage and all the trappings – dodged another bullet)