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9th Nov 2005
To the tropics
Wednesday, 9th November, 2005
Up at 5.20 this morning. Luckily Grayem has an early tee off this morning and so was on song to drop us off at the airport for our 6.30 check in.
A brighter day altogether which was all going swimmingly until we had a bit of excitement when they told us that our Qantas flight No 4 wasn’t happening. What wasn’t immediately apparent was that we had been changed under some kind of reciprocal agreement. With a change of terminals and a bit of swift legwork, we were back on track and loading bound for Townsville.
We left pretty well on time, we had a two and a bit hour flight, but because of the time change in Queensland (which is an hour behind) we arrived at only 9 am ! (‘Ladies and Gentlemen, welcome to Townsville Queensland. You should put your watch back about an hour ….’ That’s what they said !!!!) There’s also the long running joke about arriving in Queensland … ‘Please put your watches back 20 years!’
The first thing you notice is the heat. It hits you like a wet, hot towel; very high humidity, well up the 30s and even thinking about doing something breaks you out in a sweat.
We picked up the car with only minor discussion. The need to pre-charge the card for this and that always un-nerves me and here, we seemed to be signing away an awful lot which it sounded like we might lose for such potentially minor (or major) events as kangaroo collision.
Having signed all that, I was a bit perplexed to find that there was no parcel shelf in the car … and as such, no means of covering our bags in the boot or offering even a modicum of respite from the baking temperatures within the car. I queried it and after a phone call was told that the shelf had been missing for some time and also that the car (the cheapest two door with aircon) which I was due to have had been returned damaged … so they had to let me have a four door (Errrr, right …. ?). The upshot was that I should be glad I had a bigger car, even though I had no parcel shelf. ‘Sorry about that Mate’ said the young girl behind the counter ... Oh well!
Anne had had a couple of brief correspondences with the Burdekin Shire Council. One the purposes of this leg of the trip was for Anne to catch up with her Drysdale family history and for me to retake one or two images lurking in their family photo albums. Anne’s forbears established the Pioneer Sugar mill near Ayr and her great, great uncle introduced a revolutionary irrigation system which increased the area available for productivity. Her grandfather was also a director of the company in the teens and twenties of the 20th Century.
As we drove across from Townsville, at regular intervals across the fields we could see the billowing stacks of the sugar mills. Still using a steam driven process which hasn’t changed for over a century. We crossed the cane railways … small railways lines running out of the fields, alongside and across the roads towards the mills. All the mills run on a two foot guage … that is, two feet between the rails except for Pioneer, which is the only mill to run on three foot six a Drysdale legacy where he either standardised his rolling stock for the national network … or possibly got a cheap deal on a locomotive or two; the tales vary.
Anne’s contact in the council was going to help us find some contacts with the current mil owners – a huge multi national – and with a bit of luck open a few doors.
We phoned from Townsville and arranged to drive straight down to Ayr and to meet with them first of all. About an hour after we were turning left at the clock in the centre of Ayr erected to perpetuate the memory of John Drysdale, Anne’s great great uncle and parking outside the council chambers.
Inside, things started to get fairly organised, Anne was met by Lyn, the Mayor and introduced to David Jackson, the senior journalist from the Ayr Advocate, the local newspaper, who was standing by camera in hand ready to record everything … which was all a little bit unexpected. There was a presentation of a commorative book about the sugar industry and a whole heap of stuff about the Burdekin in general and Anne was photographed outside with the Mayor.
Afterwards, we were able to sit down and Anne outlined what we wanted to do in terms of seeing some of the old mill buildings and visiting the places where her family lived … and then the Mayor picked up the phone and started making calls. At about this time we were marched down the street and photographed in front of the commemorative clock, for an article in Friday’s Advocate and finally we made good our escape with a list of contacts and phone numbers. Yikes.
The first of the meetings was with a man called Peter Toomey who is involved in putting together a museum collection along at a place called Brandon. We stopped off and in the baking heat of a tin shed looked through the various machines and implements ... most of which was of limited interest, but outside, was a traction engine which had been one of the first in the Burdekin and the guy was sure that John Drysdale had been present at its inaugural outing. Yes …. Well ……
After that we were suitably exhausted to feel the need to book in to a motel as soon as possible and settled on the Country Ayr Motel.
Relaxing in a cool darkened room is excellent therapy for being ‘over Drysdaled’ as I’ve discovered over the last twenty years or so and even Anne was in need of a bit of a break, if only to be able to absorb all the information that was flying around!
The Country Ayr provided such an environment … but it wasn’t very long before Glenis, the President of the local Family History and Historical Society visited us at the room and we had another hour or so of information, snippets and planning.
Outside the skies darkened and the cane fires were lit. putting great plumes of smoke into the air and lighting the sky with an orange glow. For five minutes of so the fires raged through the fields and then they died, leaving the cane, free of debris – trash as they call it locally – and ready to cut. They aim to have the cane fields burnt and the crushing completed at the mill within 24 hours and at this time of year its a 24/7 operation
One of the recommendations logged early on in both our minds was the need to eat Burdekin Barramundi … which is a very large freshwater fish and one which thrives apparently in the Burdekin River.
It turns out that the season closed last week but we enquired at the local restaurant and they had a couple of portions squirreled away which they were delighted to prepare for us. The ‘Barra’ turned out to be really fine fish. Large chunks of white flesh, seared to perfection and served up with local vegetables.
By 9.30, a combination of a delicious dinner, half a bottle of local wine and the heat. We were ready to pass out … and at about 9.31 we did. Anne stayed awake long enough to phone Penny back in Scotland to get some extra Drysdale info, but I was gone and slept really well.
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Diary Photos
| 9th Nov 2005 |
| Anne with the Mayor |
| Outside the Burdekin-shire council chambers being presented with a book |
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| 9th Nov 2005 |
| Pioneer Mill |
| One of the original locations of the Drysdale enterprises out here |
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