We first saw whales from the balcony of the motel. Well, we didn’t actually see much of the whales but we saw their spouts – puffs of mist in the distance and occasionally heard them.  The ride on the Cat Balou was quite smooth – it had a twin V hull and rode through the water with no problem. The boat was fairly crowded and it included two marine scientists who had been based in Eden for a few months and all they did was photgraph the whales, noting specific markings and their behaviour. We saw several whales that day and saw a couple of whales breaching. One day we’ll go back armed with a better camera.Подаръциикони на светцивик услугиСувенириИдея за подаръкикониикониПравославни иконииконописikoniподаръци

The Tulip Farm is privately run and charges $10 for entry, $9 if you’re a senior. We all got in on senior’s tickets – cheeky Irish lady. You get free tea and coffee as part of the entry fee and between 11.30AM and 1.00PM you get a free sausage. I think the trip to the Tulip Farm is worth the $9 or $10 but I probably won’t go again in the short term except to take other visitors. Whilst there I couldn’t help thinking it would be a great place to hold a wedding. Maybe I should have asked a few questions?

Some people had brought their own foldup tables and chairs and sat among the flowering trees quietly reading and sipping their beverage from their thermos. Quite serene.

We had our cup of tea and sausage and followed it up with some Dutch pancakes and maple syrup and some really nice ice cream. The pancakes were supposedly made from a secret recipe. The secret would be a bit of self raising flour with a pinch of extra bicarb, an egg and buttermilk but don’t say I told you – its a secret.

We eventually finished with the Tulip Farm but on the way out Rita bought some wall flowers for Gaye’s garden. We headed back to Floriade thinking that the crowd might have dissipated.

We arrived at Floriade around 3.00 PM and had no problem finding a place to park the car and not far from the entrance.  We had a quick look at the stalls selling all manner of arts and craft and moved on to the flowers. Being only the first week of Floriade not all the flowers were in bloom but there was plenty to see. It was a good day and it was not crowded out at that time of the afternoon.

After about an hour at Floriade we decided it was time to go home for a cuppa and a rest. I think smiling for the photos really tired Harold out.

]]> http://tuckett.info/blog/?feed=rss2&p=37 0 http://tuckett.info/blog/?p=33 http://tuckett.info/blog/?p=33#comments Sun, 23 Mar 2008 06:38:41 +0000 Phil D http://tuckett.info/blog/?p=33 At lambing time it seemed that there were always orphans to look after. Orphans could have resulted from ewes dying whilst lambing, ewes rejecting a lamb especially it it had twins, or from mis-mothering. It was not a good thing to disturb the flock too much during lambing. There’s nothing more vulnerable than a newborn mammal and without proper nurturing it will die.

One of the nurses that Gaye works with had a sheep farm that had a lot of orphaned lambs one year. Some of the other nurses volunteered to help by raising the lambs. Gaye brought one home. He was so tiny we thought that he wouldn’t survive. His wool coat was short and thin and was very unsteady on his legs. We called him Mo. Gaye made him a coat out of the sleeve from an old wool pullover. We would feed Mo warm milk from a baby’s bottle and teat. He survived and grew steady on his legs.

Mo would follow us everywhere. He would even get stuck trying to get through the cat door. As Mo grew we tried him on sheep pellets but he just didn’t seem to take a liking to them. Maybe sheep pellets are only for big hungry sheep.

Our back neighbours took a liking to Mo. They loosened a couple of the fence palings to let Mo through into their yard. The granddaughter especially liked feeding Mo. She would invite friends around to see how Mo could quickly finish off the bottle. Once when we went to feed him he didn’t want any. We thought that strange until we noticed that his belly was bulging, apparently all the granddaughter’s friends had a go at feeding Mo. The neighbours also washed Mo once. Not every child in a city gets a chance to feed a lamb, its something special.

The day came when it was time for Mo to go back to a farm. Gaye took him to work a bit earlier than normal and gave him to another nurse whose shift had ended. A few other lambs were brought in as well. Mo was much bigger and cleaner than the other lambs. All the lambs seemed to be happy together in the back of the ute.

When the neighbour’s granddaughter heard that Mo had gone back to the farm she cried.

Why just the other day when he picked us up at the airport, he paid for the parking ticket and then led us to his car and as we were driving up to the boom gates he couldn’t remember where he put his ticket. True story. He did better than me though because when we got back to our airport, I paid the long stay parking ticket and realised at the boom gates that I hadn’t even picked the ticket up after paying at the machine.

The reunion – birthday party. Everyone turned up. The Tuckett reunion happened, all the family was there, kind of, and I won’t mention names because they were sending spam before it was invented, and I hate receiving spam especially those from Russia that you open and find a naked girl wanting to meet you. There’s one pretty girl in Russia and she’s got lots of different names – probably sent by Vladimir Putrid. There are some photos in the Tuckett Gallery, not of the Russians, but of the dinner.

Phil organised the party at Sophia’s in Camberwell. Sophia’s is big, the restaurant is big and so were the serves. Hardly anyone at our table was able to finish their meal. And you should see the gelati, they were so big one lad was using two spoons to eat his. The ice caps aren’t melting at all, someone is turning them into gelati. The older boys had a bit of a contest – you had to pay $20 if you didn’t eat all your gelato. ‘Whoofer’ Tuckett finished his before the others were half way through. It was no contest really as he has been known to eat the whole contents of a fridge in one sitting.

Another thing I noticed was that Phil had little children around him a lot of the time. He was carrying one for a while and later I saw a young child on his knee. Then the realisation hit – Phil is a grandfather!

Oh well, that’s it for a year or two as far as reunions go. The next one will probably be at the next 50^th – what do you reckon Shell, your place in five years?

икони

Christmas morning we crammed into Harold and Rita’s room to open our gifts.

After we got organised we went for a drive to the wharf and had a stroll around. We came across a couple of huge wire framed bins that contained old ropes and fishing nets – there was a sign on the front that said take what you want for free. The way Harold and Gaye went for it you would have thought it was Christmas. Even Rhys got roped in. Harold said it would fill up some space in his garage and Gaye would use it to train vines around the fence. The rope was thick and reinforced with steel wire and those vines would soon learn.

After checking out the wharf we went for a drive to Boydtown. Its a pity that I hadn’t done some more research on the area because when we got to Boydtown we saw the Sea Horse Inn and it was very impressive considering its location. I had a look inside and it was really nice – recently refurbished by the look. They also had a huge buffet in full swing. When I asked about the buffet the staff said it was booked out two weeks ago. It would have been a great place to have Christmas lunch. After checking out the beach we decided to go back to the motel. This would be a great place to learn sea kayaking.

Later that afternoon Gaye, Byron and I decided to go fishing off the wharf. We caught a trevally, a bream and two yellowtail. Two mutton birds claimed two of them as I threw them back. I reckon I would have come close to the record for the smallest trevally caught. On the way back I noticed a pizza shop was open. That night we had pizza and leftovers for dinner.

On Boxing Day we had a slow start to the morning but still made it to the wharf with plenty of time to spare. We saw our boat come in with the early morning anglers (6am to 10am) and they had caught some decent sized snapper and barracuda. We all climbed aboard and headed off for our turn. The morning had been very still and there was no wind to speak of. As we headed out of the bay the wind picked up. We went a long way out of the bay to try some reef fishing. We landed a few leatherjackets, ‘pinkies’ and flathead.The weather and the waves were getting a bit rough for us landlubbers and after a few of us started dry reaching (was it the pizza?) the crew took the boat into calmer waters. We caught a few more flathead and then Rhys landed two decent pinkies in five minutes. Someone caught a slimy mackerel which apparently was going to be used for trolling bait the next day. After four hours our time was up and we headed back to the wharf. Gaye and Rhys had to work the following day so after scrubbing up they headed back to Canberra taking a lot of the presents and supplies with them – and old fishing rope and netting. That night we had fish and chips and leftovers for dinner.

The following morning we packed up and left for home – we still had about a week’s supplies left and a bunch of rope and netting had found its way into my boot – we just managed to squeeze everything in. Thankfully everyone had a safe trip home.

To see more photos go to the Tuckett On-line Gallery. Click for more photos.

Moving cattle between Port Welshpool and Snake Island involves many horsemen to muster the cattle and to keep the cattle in line whilst making the crossing. Straying from the ‘line’ could mean getting bogged in the mud of falling in a hole. There are a couple of experienced ‘pilots’ who know the ways of the channel, the tide and the wind. You would not want to attempt the drive if the wind and tide were unfavourable as you could lose some cattle and place the less experienced riders in danger. On a good day the cattle and horses wouldn’t have to swim at all with the water being no more than a few feet deep at low tide.

Harold did it once in the ‘70s. The season was harsh and there was not a blade of grass growing on the farm. Faced with the choice of seeking agistment or trucking in hay Harold allowed himself to be convinced to try Snake Island. Not the best thing to do when you can’t swim, especially when your horse can’t either. Harold’s horse Monty lunged rather than swam making it difficult for him to stay on the horse let alone help keep the cattle in line. One of the riders advised Harold to hang onto Monty’s tail however Harold preferred to stay on the saddle riding the horse to the bottom before lunging to the surface for air. It may have been the inspiration for the movie ‘Flipper’. For a few kilometres it was a fearful time. He and his cattle made it to Snake Island mostly due to the efforts of the experienced riders. However, Harold was only half relieved as in the back of his mind lay the thought that he would have to do it all over again to bring the cattle back in three months time.

Harold decided that for him it wasn’t worth the effort and the risk to use Snake Island again and in following years always trucked more feed for his cattle. That said, there are many horseriders who would not miss the chance to participate in a cattle drive to and from Snake Island. Some would even pay for a guided tour on horseback to Snake Island.

The tradition continues.

H&R arrived for the Canadian summer. We decided to go for an ambitious trip around Alberta covering the Rockies to the badlands. At one stretch we must have driven for a hundred kilometres without seeing a fence. The trip through the Rockies was interesting and I don’t think H&R were prepared for the immensity of it all. We stayed overnight near the Columbia Icefields. The weather was fine but the temperature still dropped below zero at night.

At the start of the Rockies we visited one of the first waterfalls – so small that it didn’t have a name that I remember. It was more known for the shape of the ice that formed on it during the winter. Harold was really impressed with the waterfall and tried to engage in conversation with every other tourist there. ‘Bloody marvellous isn’t it,” he said. There was nothing like it in Yarram. We needed to move along as there was a lot more to see. We virtually had to herd Harold to the car after every stop.
After stopping to look at some lime blue lakes and ice blue glaciers H&R were beginning to get a feel for how vast the Rockies were. Then we stopped to have a look at the Athabascar Falls. Harold was speechless. Well, you couldn’t have heard what he was saying over the roar of the waterfall anyway. Tons of water crashing down and all from melting ice and snow. If you stood on the viewing area you would get wet from the mist it generated. The first waterfall we stopped at, mentioned above, was a dripping tap in comparison.Икони

I always liked the shearing shed. It had a character of its own and it was a useful place. When it was full of sheep ready to be shorn, crutched or dipped it was alive with action. This day it was calm, shafts of light lit up the empty pens and a cool breeze seeped up through the widely spaced floor boards bringing with it the smell of lanolin. The only noise was the occasional flapping of loose galvanised iron. Then we arrived to wipe out years of evolution.

We were very creative. We cleaned out the old fridges, and moved boxes of tags, dye and grommets off the shelves and swept away the dung of many species. We sawed old drench containers in two, placed these on the shelves and then moved all the boxes and tools back to the shelves in a set order. Sets of stencils, drench fittings, tools and goodness knows what else were now in order. The chaos was now gone, everything was sorted, sized, sifted and shifted. At the end of the day I thought that it was a pretty fair effort. I even thought that maybe Harold would be pleased.

Always go with you first instincts. Harold was not pleased at all. He spent the whole of the next day putting things back the way he liked it. And fair enough, after all, it was his shearing shed and sometimes a tidy, neatly arranged place is not the most efficient layout. It was a shearing shed, not a shop or storeroom. There are other reasons but I won’t mention them here. After a day, Harold single handedly restored chaos out of order undoing the work that took three or four of us to do. I don’t know if it was a concession or not but Harold used the sawn drench containers. Later he told me I had no right, no right to change the shed around. I couldn’t argue with that, but damned if you do and damned if you don’t, I’d again chosen the path of the coward’s complicit compliance.

Years later and I still can’t argue with that, and what’s more, I’ve become like that in that I need things to be where they are supposed to be in order to function efficiently. Change can be good however what may appear to be good for one, may not necessarily be good for another.

It was an all hands operation. The lambs got a ring for their tails, an injection and the boys got another ring to go with the family jewels. There was no silence of the lambs. After the full package the lambs really wanted their mothers. The lambs appeared to be struggling under the weight of those tiny rubber rings, they were wobbling at the knees.

On a large farm with a few thousand sheep there’s always a few that do not get collected in the sheep muster. Some of the ewes may be a bit smarter and hide in the bush with their lambs. But they eventually get caught but this time as there’s only a small number, they don’t get the all hands operation. No kid gloves for them. I assisted in one such event.

We rounded up the errant sheep and placed them in the small pen next to the sheep dip. On the other side of the sheep dip was a caravan that a rabbit trapper of sorts used to use when he visited. The tool used on this occasion was not a set of ring pliers. The tool can best be described as a knife at one end and a grapple tackle at the other. With a quick flick the tail was docked. The other was more painful – a slit, a grapple and stretch- and snap Adam’s lost his apple, correction, apples. The tails were tossed on a heap and the hope of a sheep generation were tossed over the shoulder. I remember hearing a dull thud each time but I took no notice. The tool was offered to me to complete my education, however it was one job I didn’t have the bal stomache for. When we had finished I surveyed the carnage – a pile of docked tails and a freshly decorated caravan. I remember seeing the caravan a year or two later and the decorations were still there. Male persistence could be an animal thing.

I remember reading a book written by Dickens or maybe someone earlier in which the defendant was being a bit cheeky. The justice said, “Once more and I shall mark you, sir.” The defendant played up even more. Obviously the defendant was not from the country. A country lad would have said. “Oh no, please m’Lord, I’ll never do it again!”ikoni

Red couldn’t work, he just didn’t have the basic comprehension skills required of a farm dog. But he didn’t let it get him down. He was just happy to tag along with his master, and he never seemed to get in the way. I was puzzled by Red and the way he was allowed to just ride in the ute. When there was some action with either sheep or cattle the Border Collies would jump off the ute and race into action. Red would stay in the ute but when his master would look at him with a hopeful look he would jump off and go to his master. Red was a companion, and more so than the working dogs could ever be.

Being a working dog is a tough life. You see some with gashes on their nose from cow’s hooves and some can get battered by rams. When everything is normal the cows and sheep fear the working dogs and if they don’t comply with the farmer’s wishes the working dogs can make life uncomfortable for the stock. Some if not most working dogs find it difficult to deal with a mad bull or cow. One such time one cow got separated from its calf and with two working dogs the farmer just couldn’t move the cow towards the gate that would allow the cow to join up with its calf. Red was no help at all, of course, but he stayed out of the way. The cow was getting a bit stressed so the farmer moved in to push the cow towards the gate when the cow turned on him and knocked him over. The cow then jumped repeatedly on the farmer’s back so hard that the breath blasted from the farmer’s lungs made small pits in the ground. After feeling the force of the cow’s hooves about three times the farmer heard a bellow and was able to crawl away. Looking around he saw the cow swinging its head and attached to its nose was Red.

Some dogs are useless, but sometimes they come in handy. Some gifts may appear to be useless but can have some real value down the track, its a puzzle really.

икони