Here We Go Again - Chapter 14 - Agnes Water to Gladstone

Technology and I have this understanding – not. Today was one of those days where I was tested with it.

The brake alarm had been sounding again at its annoying best and I have been having intermittent issues with the laptop, particularly when trying to view football games on Foxtel. To give us a break in the Cruiser for the day, I crawl under the van and disconnect the EBS, as the Caravan Fix auto electrician had done. That should fix the screaming alarm.

It actually doesn’t and the alarm sounds as brakes are applied as I take Robyn for a jaunt around Agnes Water and 1770 instead of heading straight to Gladstone. We retrace the trek from yesterday, this time without allighting. I venture as far as the petitioned car park which allows me to circulate without the need for reversing. 

With the car park empty, I take the opportunity to stop and reattach the EBS. If the alarm is going to sound anyway, we might as well have the safety equipment engaged. The re-engagement of the EBS does not stop the alarm but it does now, on turning or stopping form a quicker speed diminish somewhat. Must remember this for the auto electrician we are to visit sometime in the future.

The drive from Agnes Water to our destination at Gladstone is through the bush and the Bruce Highway and back into the bush again. We settle in behind another van for much of the trip as the road is windy and overtaking opportunities are very limited. I eventually get around and resume “crashing the gate doing 98”.

The caravan park at Tannum Sands is the first we have visited, devoid of green grass. Its a little less luxurious than we are “used to” but it is by the river, allows for fires at night and not far from the local shopping centre. We are in a wooded area, rustic to say the least but with all the usual amenities, unlike Forbsy who has been relegated to another area with no power available.

I have some urgent work to do for the magazine going to press today. Getting started, the connection to the internet appears less than stable. Worse still, I am on a deadline to get the next pieces of the magazine puzzle uploaded ASAP. Frustrated as I seem to have quite good coverage on my phone, which has a similar SIM card in it, becomes rage as Robyn turns her computer on to immediately surf the internet whilst my machine is unwilling to assist me.

This next piece is holding up the production of the magazine, and time is money of course. We decide to go to higher ground in an attempt to get better reception. The local shopping centre we saw on the way in was on top of a hill. It should make the job decidedly easier. 

Parking under a shade sale, turning on my computer brings only enhancement to my frustration. Luckily Robyn is able to come to the rescue, connecting to my email and Google Drive, handing me her computer and suggesting I call her when I am done. My frustration soon eases as her technology is working perfectly.

There is only one answer to the computer issue. I must have fried the SIM card – the fourth I have destroyed since owing the laptop. The course of action, find a Telstra shop and confirm the problem and have the SIM card replaced. An investigation of the local area suggests the closed Telstra establishment is on the western side of Gladstone, some 25 minutes away by road.

Now the critical work has been done, Robyn can have her laptop back and return to the van and I will make the trek to the other side of town. With the phone acting as the GPS I head off and soon enough find myself in front of the Stocklands Shopping Centre. Walking in I am greeted by an automated information display. This will be easy, input “Telstra” – nothing. Input “phone”, only result Optus. Perhaps the Telstra shop has closed. I check Mrs Google again and yes they are still here, Shop 80. How do we find Shop 80, there are no numbers on the shops.

I walk the shopping centre, seeing the Optus shop, in fact walking past Optus staff walking the centre until at the moment i am about to walk out to the centre in disgust, there it is in front of me. I am met at the door by a concierge who tells me it will be at least a 40 minute wait. Given I cannot work without the laptop working efficiently I decide I can wait. I am happy to sit and play computer games on my phone. The concierge, Katie, is calling pre-arranged appointments and meeting newcomers to the shop. She has called someone who has forgotten their appointment, I break I am happy to fill.

We sit and I advise the service person of the issues and which I think is the cause. Needing to verify my assumptions he goes looking for another SIM card to try in the laptop. It works perfectly confirming my ideas. I tell him about this being the fourth SIM I have destroyed in the computer which amazes him, but he replaces and activates a new one and sends me on my way.

For a change my brush with technology grievances has come to an effective conclusion.

Returning to the van Bruce, a cousin has arrived and is talking with Robyn. I am very happy to see him. He and his family here have always shown me (and any friends I may have been travelling with)  super hospitality and I would like to return the favour in some small way. He sits down to a cup of coffee and a snifter of Jack Daniels (he does have to drive). Not being a bourbon drinker he is surprised at how easily the drink goes down. Just as well, these 2 drinks have emptied the bottle or we may have been calling his wife Sibya to come and collect him.

This side of the family do love savouring their alcohol – probably the Aborigninal in us.

He talks about moving to Gladstone, he discusses his recent move to new digs just down the road, lamenting the traffic noise. He also laments he is not fishing as much as he had in the past, and given his approach to retirement (not as soon as he would like), he needs to get back into it. Having said that he does have a plan for wetting a line tomorrow after work as he finishes around noon. I talk to him about the sign at the boat ramp about crocodiles and Silver Leader pipes us, suggesting a torch tour of the ramp last night  by other occupants of the park, revealed the dreaded pink eyes in the water. Enough said, there will be no fishing here this evening.

Bruce bids us adieu suggesting the local pub might be a good option for tonight but the Sailing Club tomorrow night might be the get together I really want to arrange. We end up defrosting some steak and eating in the park with Silver Miguel Leader on duty yet again.

The conversation turns to the upcoming weather. Its is about to turn cold. The lower half of the country is about to experience a cold snap. The temperature where we are aiming to be, won’t be ridiculously thermal either. I text my mate Roger who is arranging a speed boat tour for us out of Airlie Beach and he suggests he is already feeling it. We book the tour for the best day the forecast suggests in the period we are in Airlie Beach and we will see what we will see.

A check of the booked sites for the coming weeks shows that somehow we have lost 2 of the what was supposed to be 4 days in Townsville. I was looking forward to spending time with my cousin Darryl there. He used to live with us for a time as a part time jackeroo on the farm when we were kids before joining the army. I still remember his passing out parade at Puckapunyal and the revelation that because their boots were so soiled instead of polish they used black estapol to get them shiny for the parade.

I was hoping to spend some time fishing with Darryl but now with the loss of the days, this may not happen. I send him a text with the cemented in dates. He replies with “sure thing cuz”. It will be OK, just not as long as I was hoping.

The nights have not been warm and the use of the extra blanket is yet to be curtailed and tonight is no exception.