In real time it is now 3 September and as the title of that famous Willy Nelson song says, we are 'On The Road Again' and have been since 14 August, steadily making our way south to Adelaide. We are currently taking a three to four day break in Condoblin to sit out some very windy weather in central NSW (and try and catch up with this blog!)
A couple of unexpected phone calls received shortly after our departure from Kurrimine Beach meant that our Plan 'A' morphed into Plan 'C', and depending on the weather over the next few days, this will probably become Plan 'D', but more of that later.
One direct upshot of our plan changes has been that I have not had any time at all to bash away on the keyboard, but I hope to rectify that situation over the next week or so as we put our feet up here and thence somewhere on the River Murray (Robinvale...Balranald etc etc), all weather dependent.
So for now it's back to June and a few tales of our 2017 Kurrimine Beach sojourn.
Having discovered the pleasures of Forrest Beach we left with some regret but with firm plans to return over the coming years. But for now it was time to be off further north. As is now becoming standard practice, before making our way into Kurrimine Beach for the winter, we spent a very pleasant weekend with our good friends Cate and David at Wongaling (Mission Beach) before the final push.
A couple of unexpected phone calls received shortly after our departure from Kurrimine Beach meant that our Plan 'A' morphed into Plan 'C', and depending on the weather over the next few days, this will probably become Plan 'D', but more of that later.
One direct upshot of our plan changes has been that I have not had any time at all to bash away on the keyboard, but I hope to rectify that situation over the next week or so as we put our feet up here and thence somewhere on the River Murray (Robinvale...Balranald etc etc), all weather dependent.
So for now it's back to June and a few tales of our 2017 Kurrimine Beach sojourn.
Having discovered the pleasures of Forrest Beach we left with some regret but with firm plans to return over the coming years. But for now it was time to be off further north. As is now becoming standard practice, before making our way into Kurrimine Beach for the winter, we spent a very pleasant weekend with our good friends Cate and David at Wongaling (Mission Beach) before the final push.
Over the past five years our first view of the Tully sugar mill, with steam and smoke belching skywards under the forbidding bulk of Mount Tyson, has become a bit like reaching the front door of our second home. Today was no exception as far as this went,
but this year, as we drove off 'The Bruce' onto Murdering Point Road, past the large sign advertising 'our' park (we are the couple at the far side of the circle...this was taken four years ago),
a cane train tootling along its narrow track beside the tall stands of cane ready for cutting,
and on past the last hill before town, we did admit to a touch of quiet anxiety.
You see, the park had changed hands in December. Although our spies had already reassured us that it was very much 'business as usual', we were yet to see for ourselves. I suspect this concern may seem a little odd to many of you, but given we spend over two months here, the tenor of management and social activity is of significance...it can make all the difference.
I must say at this point that our concerns were utterly groundless. We could see from the time of our arrival that the park was clearly in good hands. Glenda and Ian, the new owners, and Glenda's son Bradley who is the on site manager, have embraced their new venture with verve and at the end our our stay of just over two months, we left as very good friends.
Site 12 awaited us as always, this time without the towering mango tree over our heads (you may remember that last year a huge falling branch from this termite riddled tree nearly spelt disaster...it missed the van by a whisker). Our long term comfort demanded verandahs front and back, and after the usual wrestle with guy ropes and uprights,
Fortunately the weather this year was far kinder than it had been during our last sojourn when we endured the second wettest 'dry' on record, although there were days when the sun could not be seen behind the glowering rain clouds rolling in off the Coral Sea. But as we continue to brag, even when we sit under tropical deluges, we are still in 'T' shirts and shorts, and very comfortably so. And the rain does wonders for keeping the grass green!
One constants of our life here at Kurrimine Beach is the social activity, much of which we instigate (by popular demand!) The 'ship's bell' was retrieved from its locker and at 1630 hours on many afternoons it summonsed old friends and newcomers alike to pull up a chair and form a circle on the lawns of the Marshies' beer garden.
Some of these gatherings were relatively quiet affairs,
but many others 'grew legs' as the afternoon progressed.
Neighbours next door on sites 13 and 14 came and went, but all invariably joined in during their stay.
And on one particularly fine evening, we even broke the 'no nibbles' rule. I had scored an unexpected berth on a fellow camper's large tinnie that day. Our early morning cruise out to 'The Patches' just under ten nautical miles offshore, had produced some fine spotted mackerel and a good sized 'spaniard'.
After dealing with the large fillets in the normal manner (skinned and reduced to manageable sized pieces)
all that remained were the frames. These fish were far from the biggest I have caught here, but still produced more than acceptable offerings for many park freezers.
but this year, as we drove off 'The Bruce' onto Murdering Point Road, past the large sign advertising 'our' park (we are the couple at the far side of the circle...this was taken four years ago),
a cane train tootling along its narrow track beside the tall stands of cane ready for cutting,
and on past the last hill before town, we did admit to a touch of quiet anxiety.
You see, the park had changed hands in December. Although our spies had already reassured us that it was very much 'business as usual', we were yet to see for ourselves. I suspect this concern may seem a little odd to many of you, but given we spend over two months here, the tenor of management and social activity is of significance...it can make all the difference.
I must say at this point that our concerns were utterly groundless. We could see from the time of our arrival that the park was clearly in good hands. Glenda and Ian, the new owners, and Glenda's son Bradley who is the on site manager, have embraced their new venture with verve and at the end our our stay of just over two months, we left as very good friends.
Site 12 awaited us as always, this time without the towering mango tree over our heads (you may remember that last year a huge falling branch from this termite riddled tree nearly spelt disaster...it missed the van by a whisker). Our long term comfort demanded verandahs front and back, and after the usual wrestle with guy ropes and uprights,
we were all set up for the duration...'Naughty Corner' (as it has become known) and its associated 'beer garden' was open for business.
Fortunately the weather this year was far kinder than it had been during our last sojourn when we endured the second wettest 'dry' on record, although there were days when the sun could not be seen behind the glowering rain clouds rolling in off the Coral Sea. But as we continue to brag, even when we sit under tropical deluges, we are still in 'T' shirts and shorts, and very comfortably so. And the rain does wonders for keeping the grass green!
One constants of our life here at Kurrimine Beach is the social activity, much of which we instigate (by popular demand!) The 'ship's bell' was retrieved from its locker and at 1630 hours on many afternoons it summonsed old friends and newcomers alike to pull up a chair and form a circle on the lawns of the Marshies' beer garden.
Some of these gatherings were relatively quiet affairs,
but many others 'grew legs' as the afternoon progressed.
Neighbours next door on sites 13 and 14 came and went, but all invariably joined in during their stay.
After dealing with the large fillets in the normal manner (skinned and reduced to manageable sized pieces)
all that remained were the frames. These fish were far from the biggest I have caught here, but still produced more than acceptable offerings for many park freezers.
One of our nearby neighbours on this particular day mentioned that he liked to smoke fish. And indeed he did, extremely well. A number of fleshy chunks of mackerel, properly treated with a brine and sugar solution, were soon sizzling away in his hot smoker.
The result was sensational, and as I mentioned previously, our firm rule about food at happy hour (none) was well and truly put aside as Stephen and I treated the assembled
group to succulent snacks of smoked mackerel. This was indeed one of the Naughty Corner's finer social moments.
When the weather was amenable (and the Marshies were not in dire need of a social breather!), the clarion call of The Bell would summons the faithful to join the circle under the proudly flown UN flag in the Naughty Corner beer garden.
On one occasion the group included our erstwhile Oleander Street neighbours and very good friends the Lorenzins, who camped with us for a few days as they made their way south from northern shores (Dennis is next to Liz at the far side of this shot...Liz is in the yellow sleeveless top) It was very good to catch up with them and get the latest on the street gossip (we still feel very much a part of the community of good friends with whom we shared so many wonderful years at South Brighton).
Site 12 was not the only place in which happy hour libations were consumed and travellers' tales told. Most Friday afternoons the wood would be prepared (Brad, the park manager and Gordon, our very good camp mate of many years, are hard at it)
and in no time the fire pit near the camp kitchen would be ablaze
encouraging many park guests to chat well into the evening around the cheery flames. There is just something about a camp fire, even when it is far from needed for warmth (the temperature rarely dropped below the high teens throughout our stay!)
The camp kitchen has always been the venue for special events, and under the new park management nothing had changed.
Because year we had arrived here much earlier than normal, we were in situ for the second State of Origin rugby match, where Queensland's chances of keeping the much prized cup were dependant on a win (NSW thrashed 'us' in the first match).
Tensions between the opposing camps were as high as the Maroons flag on the masthead of our van, but before the clash began all who had gathered to spur on their chosen team and voice their opinions about the players, the umpiring and the outcome, had to be fed.
A park sponsored sausage sizzle was the first order of business, and Chef Pierre had volunteered his services. With Ian (Doc) turning the snags, yours truly was hard at it conjuring up my now famous caramelised onions whilst the other park owner Glenda looked on expectantly.
We soon had everyone fed and settled, the large camp kitchen TV screen blazed into life and it was 'game on'. My old mate Gordon (a NSW die hard) gave Liz and me a real shellacking at half time when the Cane Toads were down, but he was not as chirpy by full time. The Queensland team performed miracles in the second half and came out on top by a whisker to keep the series alive.
I was possibly not quite as gracious in victory as I should have been, but Gordon's half time cry of 'looser' was still ringing in my ears the next morning. There was nothing for it.....our famous Cane Toad flag just happened to find its way to his van whilst he was elsewhere. He did take it all in very good spirit (even when QLD won the decider a few weeks later!)
This was not the only occasion on which I found myself beavering away over a hot BBQ plate in the camp kitchen. Having said that, I should add that I am rarely happier than when I have tongs in hand and Liz is wisely admonishing all and sundry to 'stay out of his kitchen'! Well I suppose we have to make exceptions for the park boss
particularly when she had come especially for a celebrity snap with the renowned Chef Pierre!
Karaoke nights do not now feature as heavily as they did (to the relief of many of the older folk) but this particular sausage sizzle did conclude with the exercise of several sets of vocal chords. The camp kitchen was heavily populated with a young group gathered for a wedding, and needless to say, many of the songs performed by this lot were completely foreign to us 'old farts' brigade.
But your scribe did manage to sneak in a couple of oldies (by popular demand I modestly add!)
and interestingly enough, despite the predominance of youth in the group, Brad and I really got things rocking with our version of that classic Bob Seger song 'Old Time Rock and Roll' (the throat was a bit sore the next day!)
The kids had a go, and did very well indeed,
as did our host Glenda and her charming mum Jean.
This was far from the end of the camp kitchen frolics. A marvellous camp oven dinner (a new innovation) and two park traditions, Christmas in July and the Wine Tasting, were still on the horizon as well as a couple of impromptu gatherings of the regular clan. More in my next.
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