Down By The River - Chapter 11 - Mildura & the Houseboat Day 7

DOWN BY THE RIVER

Chapter 11 – Mildura & the Houseboat Day 7

Maurice woke up early on this Wednesday morning, and feeling a sense of restlessness that he couldn’t quite shake off, he decided to go for a run along the river bank to clear his head. As he jogged, to me, taking in the serene beauty of the placid river that flowed beside him. The water sparkled in the early morning sunlight while he continued to sweat.

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Similarly, waiting for the others to arise, I sit on the back deck and feed lines and bait into the water. As I fish and watch the sunrise, worries melt away for a short time, replaced by a sense of peace and tranquillity. The cool breeze across the skin, makes me seek, at least for the moment, a jumper. Maurice ran for an hour, clearly lost in his thoughts and the natural beauty around him.

Rocky Mountain High (1972 – Rocky Mountain High, RCA) won’t leave my mind this morning. Its a song by John Denver that resonates with me. Certainly not born in the summer of his 27th year, but my connection to certain areas, home at Mt Buffalo, the area around Condobolin – Wiradjuri land of my mothers family – and now where I presently live although there its less of an affinity as opposed to something quite different.

I had spent my youth in the country but “grown” up in the city, but had always felt drawn to the ruggedness of the places of my youth. It wasn’t until I visited the mid north coast many years ago for the first time that he truly understood what “Rocky Mountain High” really meant.

A friend of mine had decided to uproot his young family and emigrate to Smiths Lake. I liked to visit them, fish from time to time as he was a professional fisherman. But fishing did not sustain them. In time he actually changed vocations to ensure his family survived. Isn’t it funny how a passion can sometimes become a business but rose coloured glasses neglects to reflect the adversities. I love to fish and some people think I am good at it, but ever being a professional at it is more than beyond me.

It was because of this family we decided to purchase a block of land there where in time we built a house and even purchased the adjacent block and have now have a double block merged onto one title. This we needed to do to allow the construction of the man cave we now have.

Standing at the summit of the hill on which my present house is perched, looking out over the sweeping vistas of the ocean and lake below, you feel a sense of awe and wonder that you never experience anywhere else (at least I do). I realise that the vista and land is more than just a physical place; they are a state of mind, a way of being.

Your little patch of land. A place to call your own. The Australian dream. We have all this. It cost lots, not just money. We always stayed close to the adage of “bite off more than you can chew and chew like hell”. There were times on our journey we were very close to the wall. We continued on, as far as the children knew, regardless. We made the point of being there for them of only on the background as part of the School Council (I was President of several School Councils, not that my children ever knew) and my wife a secretary for school P&C. we always took the position we would be that parent on school excursions regardless of the cash position. No one ever knew particularly the children.

A couple of times we had discussions about why we couldn’t do some things but they were discussions and not ultimatums. The kids took the reasoning behind the decisions and accepted them. Even when things were so bad between marriages and I was living in a caravan on the river at Sackville, the enjoyment was in the time together. At one time spending Chiristmas morning in bed playing duck hunt on a Nintendo, I arranged for them as a Christmas gift.

Continuing on the journey of the mind, it begins to reflect on the people around me who had “influenced” life both real and fictional. 

I giggle as I remember one person who stood out. Father Mulcahy from the TV show MASH (CBS 1972) who in one particular episode personified life as I endure it. Father Mulcahy was a gentle, kind-hearted man who always seemed to have a positive outlook on life. He was a person who pushed others to be their best selves, rather than dragging them down.

This one particular episode he was appointed trash manger and at one stage was seen with a large broom attempting to maintain the level of the trash without it collapsing all over him. It was that image coupled with the feeling of dragging people along on the journey be it family or business that finally drew me away from the accounting profession.

“Personified” I am drawn to a time as a Cub Scout Leader, I had a group of city children from Meadowbank Scout Group, in association with the local Scout Group and their Cub Scouts, on a camp to a shearing shed just below Burrinjuck Dam. The terrain there is very hilly. The first morning after taking them to a paddock to collect and observe scat (animal faeces), we took to scaling the hills to the highest point. In order to get there I had what seemed like the entire pack hand in hand pulling them up the hill.

The locals all shod in riding boots scaled the hills like a wildfire while our trudged up, dragged by their leader. This was nothing out of the ordinary for me in this position or any other life pursuit.

I had been fortunate enough to have many people (albeit fictional ones) like Father Mulcahy in life – people who had encouraged me to pursue our dreams and to be the best version of myself regardless of the stumbling blocks and impediments others tried to place. His placid nature, coupled with his enduring direction, given to him by his religion, resonated with me. 

It seems though, it takes fictional beings who need to be relied upon, as the “real” ones seem to have flaws, so significant relating to them is unacceptable in the pursuit of excellence. I have always wondered why those like Jim Rohn who’s concept of CANEI (Constant and Never Ending Improvement) drove me as he did when in other ways he failed.

I have not read many books cover to cover in fact I can count on my hands their number. Rohn talked about at length the card although free most people failed to acquire and then once in their wallet used it sparingly – a library card. I am auditory in nature and with a recorded IQ in excess of 140, smart enough. I just don’t need books to access knowledge.

Many of those that I have were pure escapism. Among them, George Lucas’s Star Wars (read on a train between Central Station and Yass), Markus Clarkes’s For the Term of His Natural Life (read while suffering through a bout of the mumps) and Henri Charriere’s Papillon (read overnight as I could not put it down). Escapism in the form of the Butterfly and those escaping tyranny. It was these books that shaped my need for a line in the sand. 

This line in the sand, no matter where and when drawn, was never to be crossed, ergo, children were to be supported, you provided (and yes we provided harder that most might), that was what was required. 

For me things were black and/or white. Negotiation, although a part of the game, was just that, a game. I am a scientist not an artist.

Sitting on the river catching more and more carp, the scientist simply does what is required. Catch them and deal with them.