SWEPT AWAY BY WATER UNDER THE BRIDGE AND A WATERMELON

Despite the dustjacket’s  poor representation  of   the  Sydney Harbour  Bridge, especially   the    mighty pylons,  this   1977   novel  is   a  delight   to  read  and   full  of    surprises , some of  them  personal.

 The  author  , Sumner  Locke  Elliott  , held in  high esteem by   Nobel   Award   writer   Patrick   White  ,   first  came to  prominence  when  he wrote  the controversial   play,  Rusty Bugles, banned for "obscenity"  because of  its  language , then  watered  down  for   public  consumption . It  was based , in part,    on  Sumner’s   observations  at   the  WW ll  Army camp at  Mataranka , in  the  Northern   Territory,  where   Communist  author  Frank  Hardy  was  based  , turning  out   Troppo Tribune ,  and   telling  yarns.  

 

Another      literary   minded    Communist ,    Paul    Mortier ,  later  an early    manager of  the Darwin Workers’  Club,  passed  through   Mataranka.  The plot , draws heavily  on   Sumner Locke  Elliott’s own life  and  his involvement with theatrical  identities  , like actress director  Doris  Fitton,  of  the Independent  Theatre ,  before he left  for America in 1948  where  he   became   prominent  as  a   producer  of   plays   for  television.  The  main  character in the book  is orphaned   at  four   and  brought up  by  a showgirl  whose  career  and  marriage prospects  come  to  a  dead  end when  she is   left virtually holding  the   baby  in  Sydney , his parents dying within days of each other,  making her  sharp  tongued and  resentful  as  the   years  go  by . 

 

Elliott’s   writer   mother  died   the   day  after   he   was   born  resulting  in him being   the subject of a fierce custody  battle between his aunts .    The   woman who raises the waif  in  the book is based on one of those aunts. He becomes  a  small time  actor,  serves time in  Mataranka during WWll,   goes  overseas  and  returns  to   Australia as  back  up  to   Peter Finch ,  heading  to  Alice Springs  to  make  a movie...it  has to be  A Town  Like  Alice.

There  is considerable  mention  of   Sydney -  the opening of  the  Harbour Bridge (the cover  fireworks )  by   ALP  Premier  Jack  Lang in  1932 ,  cafes , department stores ,   Kings Cross ,  the  Japanese  midget  submarine  attack  .  The latter is of  great interest  to  this  writer because  he  lived  at Kirribilli  near  the waterfront   that   night ;  mamma   was  out  dancing   and   she   rushed   home  across  the  bridge in  a   blacked  out  tram.  I  was  later taken  to  see  one of  the  submarines when  it  was  put  on  public display - to raise funds for   Red Cross,  says  the  book.  Somewhere  there  is  a   photo  of  me  decked out in white , holding   an  uncle’s hand , taken  at  that  submarine  viewing .

 

 The  highly popular   Australian  singer,   Gladys  Moncrieff , of Maid of the Mountain Fame, who entertained troops   is   mentioned  in  connection with   special  revues  put on during the war  years, some of   the  programmes  for those  events in the  Little Darwin  theatre   collection. And just this week  on Magnetic Island this writer was  shown  a wedding certificate in which Gladys Moncrieff  had  been a witness. Sheet  music for  songs   mentioned  by   the   thwarted   showgirl in the book   have  also  passed through Little  Darwin’s   kitbag . 
 

An absolute  joy  and extraordinary  coincidence  in  the  book  is   mention of   a watermelon  being  given  to a  female journalist, who may have been based on Elliott's mother ...this  blog having recently posted  an item  about sheet music   for  the   Fox Trot song  I'm Gonna  Bring a  Watermelon to My Girl To-night, sung by young Stella Lamond , mother  of  famous  singer  Helen  Reddy.  Book published by  Simon and  Schuster , New York.

The bridge in all  its  glory, the pylons robust . 

SIGNS OF A WALL STREET CRASH ?

During the  boom years of  Townsville back in the  19th  century  , Flinders Street was  called the  Wall Street of North Queensland .

Now  it  boasts  three op shops –Red Cross, Lifeline  and   Salvos . An  ominous  recent development  , however, is  this   sign  announcing   the    Gold Shop  is  closing  down.   Developments   like   this  would  cause tremors in  the  real Wall  Street  Casino  .  Some  people  there  would  be  tempted to  leap out  of  tall buildings as in the Great Crash .  It is no use  thinking of such drastic action in Townsville  because  a once  grand old  bank  building  near  the Gold  Shop  closing  down sale  sign  has  a  lift   where recently there was   a  scrawled  sign : THIS   LIFT  FUCKED , a  colourful economic  expression, often  used  by   Lygon  Street  screen  jockeys indicating the bull market has come to an end and the bears  have taken over .

His  cupboard ,  body  left  bare .

Hiding in  bushes in Flinders Street this unfortunate , unemployed gentleman  , Ambrose , playing  his conch in a bid to  earn  a buck from kind  passers by, who  lost not only  his shirt  but  his   trews  playing the  fickle  stockmarket.


Admittedly  there  are  signs  of   new  activity  in  the  interesting  street with  fine old  buildings , many of  them empty , and a  variety of businesses.  Several  new  Melbourne  style  cafes have  opened ;  James  Cook University  is represented there  and  there are  other  planned  developments.  It  comes alive  with  a  regular  Sunday  market.

INSIDE QUEEN’S BEDCHAMBER : RAPTURE OR RUPTURE?

 World  Exclusive mitt  fractured  flickers

After saving  thousands of  Australian   birds over several decades , a German wildlife  carer  , only identified  as the Queen of the Jungle , had to  go into hospital  in Townsville  for a much needed operation on  her  knee and  a large  dose of royal jelly .  As  part of her  recovery, which will involve physiotherapy, she was informed  that  her king- sized  waterbed   would  have  to  be  replaced  with one  that would  be  more conducive to throwing  her  leg out  of  bed  when  she  comes home  .

 

With the Queen in hospital , three of  her  serfs ,one of them mechanically minded  and well equipped with power tools, who could easily  build  a castle  drawbridge if  given  a  royal command ,  gathered at  the  royal  residence . The main task, of course, was to  drain  the water out of the Australian built bladder , the contents  having   fomented like an  amoeba   for  three decades. The   mechanically  minded  one , Ron, came armed with a long length of flexible hose  which was to be attached to the  waterbed  plug, the water then ,in theory, would  run freely out through the  louvres  from whence the flyscreen had been removed . Problem  . Not only was the plug  on top hard to unscrew , the hose was obviously much bigger  than it should be and  could not be inserted inside .

 

Unable to tug his forelock  due to lack of hair on top, but plenty below,  noted Asian bamboo flute player ,  Mike ,   whose quick  thinking  helped  prevent  a biblical  flood in  North  Queensland .

 Another humble   bedchamber attendant ,  Mike , bent  down  to read the tiny printed instructions at  the  foot of  the bed and felt a painful twinge in a knee on which he  had  had a  cartilage   operation. The stiff plug   was  removed , but it  was soon realised that the bed  had been overfilled, contrary to instructions , and   the  contents started  to well up and run onto  the floor.  The rotten  plug would not  fit  back in to stop the flow . Towels  were grabbed . Cyclop’s eye watering,  he dashed outside and  got a length of wire  which  was  inserted down  the  plug hole  and hooked under  the bladder  top and  lifted, causing  the flow to cease.  Phew !!!   He felt like a certain  famous  little  Dutch  boy who prevented a disaster.   

 

With at  least two  Syd Harbs  content of  water , the Queen’s bedroom could have been turned into a White Pointer shark tank .  Ron  had  sprinted  away  and  came back with   an ordinary  hose  to  poke  inside.  A man of extreme bravery ,he then sucked on the end of  the hose  to get  the  water running .     However , Cyclops was  still standing  there  pulling  on the  wire hook, as  the water insisted on running   out  again  through the bung   hole if  the wire  was  lowered .  More  intelligent than he , Mike  said he had a bright idea, dashed away  and came back with a length of bamboo ,   which was   run from  a nearby   windowsill to the  bed frame and  the  piece of  wire  wrapped about it   to take the strain off  Cyclops  , standing  there  like  a hunched  Atlas  . 

 

Bamboo support,
jockstraps later.

There  was a     good  flow of water but it was obvious that it would take many hours to drain the contents.    The  bed  was  left  for  the  tide  to go  out  and the  three  departed .   Some   hours  later , it was  still running  but the   waterbed  had  not deflated by  much .

Cyclops  went back  an hour or so  later   to check and  was greeted with    a  dramatic  scene  like   the stranding  of  a   minke  whale. Somehow ,in  a herculean effort, Ron, on his own,   had  rolled the waterbed  back from the head  down into a mountain of  brown  blubber near   the   foot  of  the  frame,which refused  to budge  .  He  was  grunting  and  groaning , his face blood-red . Joining  in  the  wrestle , Cyclops muttered  rude remarks about royalty in general, the Germanic brand in particular , said  he could feel a    double hernia coming on , and told Ron, who recently  nearly  died in hospital, to  take  things  easy . The monstrous , heavy bladder  was  man-handled  out of the wooden frame , dragged out  of the bedchamber  across the floor to the back door and  pushed  outside, still  weighing  a  ton , still  spewing  water .

Ron triumphant over  bladder ,

declared Lord Chamberlain.  

 The following  day, Cyclops and  Mike  returned and  the  crumpled  bladder  was  still  discharging  a  slow stream . Ron  had gone into Townsville with his bicycle to participate in an annual cyclone education  event . After all the heaving  of the waterbed the day before , it was  a wonder that he could sit  on the  bicycle's  seat without feeling a twinge of pain  in the nether region. 

 

Pulled  about  to increase flow , the unwieldy waterbed  still  seemed  inexplicably    heavy . As mentioned , Mike  is  more intelligent and logical –lets face it , anybody who  keeps several lengths of  bamboo   handy   for  assorted  emergencies  has  to be a lateral thinker, or a Greenie. Why wasn’t the water  flowing out  faster, he asked, and bravely  thrust an  exploratory digit   in  the bung hole .  

 

There seemed  to  be  some cloth blocking  the outflow , was  his  verdict  .  Cyclops , a bit wary about sticking his finger  into   apertures , especially in death adder territory , inserted an  index . And yes , there  was  a large  white  apparent  blockage .  Searching  through the  Queen’s cutlery  ,  a sharp knife  -Wilkinson Sword - was   found and  plunged  into  the  very heart of  the  man- killing  waterbed  bladder. The subsequent autopsy revealed two large,  white baffles, designed to prevent  water from  pounding  against  the  sides of  the  waterbed, all  laden  with   water. 

 

  Yanked  out  by hand , they  were  heavy , and left  to drain and  dry out  in the sun . Then the new mattress was  inserted; in the process , Cyclops scraped his hand on  the frame and  claret that ran out  , due to blood thinning   medication, narrowly missed spilling  onto the  white  cover . The  bed was  made up with the help of a chamber maid , ready for the return of  her majesty . 

 

Basket squatter.

While the final touches were being made to the boudoir  , one of Queen’s  bird friends , a Blue-winged Kookaburra, flew into the verandah  and   squatted  on  a basket  of  washing  which   had   been  done  for  the  shuffling  monarch . It posed for photographs  and refused   to budge , even when the basket was  tipped . Eventually   it  took flight. 

 

Each day we post a hospital bulletin with information  about the Queen’s  condition  for the   40 or more  Curlews  who  gather at her  gate  along with  vast numbers of  Lorikeets, bands of Cockatoos , assorted Plovers ,Crows, Galahs, Friar Birds  . Loyal Curlews  are  shown below  waiting  for  the  latest  bulletin .  

 

Another serf , Stuart ,  was  given the great honour and immense responsibility  to  feed the birds , morning and afternoon , during the Queen's incapacitation and  will undoubtedly be  made   an Earl,  Duke  or  Keeper of  the  Royal Swans on  her  return. Often  he is seen drinking  coffee near a  liquor shop and says he would not  mind  being  made  Keeper of  the   Cinque  Ports (wink, wink ).
 

 

Number  3 chamber  maid  , in the country on a  457 Visa  ,  trying out  the gut- busting  Queen's new  mattress . 

FOOTNOTE : The large white  baffles were placed near  wheelie  bins to  be  taken to the dump. A woman out walking  her  dog, Bruce , spotted  the baffles and  asked if she could have them  as  she works in antique glass, presumably  leadlights  , and  the material  would  be ideal  for  wrapping.  Ron delivered them  in  his  ute .

BELATED AMERICAN WAR MEDAL

Continuing, condensed  biography of Crusading Editor,"Big Jim" Bowditch  by  Peter Simon

In a surprise event in 1995,  Bowditch was informed he was entitled to the  American  Bronze Star   for his wartime service.  Strangely ,  the Americans had not been able to track him down , despite his  fame in Australia as a fighting  editor  involved  in  international news  stories and was even well known to ASIO . The  failure to track him down may have been due   to  the  contact address for his mother ,  next of kin in  England ,   had  changed .  When he  joined  the  Australian Army he  had given  her address  as   173 Half  Way  Street , Sidcup,  Kent. It had changed to  38 Belmont  Park, Lewisham.  

 His  whereabouts  became  known  when  Professor  Alan Powell of  what was  then the    Northern Territory  University,  studying  wartime  archives in America  , came across  mention  of   Bowditch . Powell  told  the  Americans  the  missing  Sergeant   Bowditch was  alive  and  living  in  Darwin. The  citation  which  went  with  the   medal  said  Sergeant  Bowditch   had  shown  a  sense  of loyalty  and  ability  to  carry  out  any task  given  him  with  a  complete  disregard  for  personal  safety  while  working  with  American  forces .  At  a  special  ceremony  in  Darwin  at  the Larrakeyah  Army  Barracks  Museum    on  September  26  l995 , the  US  Defence  Attache  to Canberra, Colonel  Stephen  Barneyback , presented  Bowditch   with  the  medal .

Colonel  Barneyback  was   accompanied   by  Sergeant  Drew  Holliday  who  specialised  in  tracking  down  undiscovered  recipients  of  American  medals.   Sergeant   Holliday   told  Bowditch he  was receiving the   medal  during the  50th anniversary  of  Victory in  the  Pacific. 

Near  the  end  of  his  life,  Bowditch   would  go  to  the  ANZ  bank  at the Casuarina  shopping centre  , cash  a  cheque  into  five dollar  bills , go  outside and  give the money  away  to   passers-by  who he  thought   were “ doing  it  tough ”. 

 

Once  the  money was  gone, he  would  return  to  the  bank , cash  another  cheque  and  repeat  the  performance.    A   bank  teller  rang  his  daughter,  Ngaire , and  expressed  concern .  The bank  staff  were worried  that  he  could  be “rolled ”  as  he   walked  about  with  a bundle of  five dollar  bills in  his  hand .  Ngaire  discussed  the  situation  with  her father ; he  responded  by  saying  he  was  working  to   assist  the  poor , and  that  it  was  “my  job” to   hand  out  money  to  those  in  need. 

 

“ My  father  was  always  a   kind  and  generous  man ,” said  Ngaire, “ so  it  didn’t  surprise  me  that  he  was  giving  his  money  away.   I  guess  with  the  onset  of  dementia  it  was  quite reasonable for  a  compassionate man  like  my  father  to  see  this as  his  work  and  social duty.  The  bank   said  his  largesse  left  little  money  in  his  account upon  which to  live ; it   had  also  feared  that  people  would  take  advantage  of   him . ”

CAREY MAINTAINS THE RAGE

New  York based Australian   author   Peter Carey’s   latest novel -  AMNESIA –is  about Australia’s relationship with America  and includes   the  dismissal of the Whitlam Government  in 1975. In    interviews   about    the novel  in   Sydney,  Melbourne and elsewhere    , he   has    recalled  his   rage  at   the  time   Governor-General , Sir John Kerr , dismissed    Prime Minister  Gough Whitlam  . Nearly four   decades   after  the  sacking, he   still  feels  the   same way.  Furthermore , he  has   expressed  his   “astonishment” that  the  nation let   it happen  and    the conviction  that   the   CIA played    a  part in  the  downfall  of  an  elected  government . (See  John Pilger’s  Guardian  article THE FORGOTTEN COUP  ) .  At the  time of   working on  the novel, published  by  Hamish Hamilton ,   Julian  Assuange   came   to  prominence   and   Carey  wondered about  the influence of   his  mother , who  had  lived with  young Julian    on Magnetic Island, North Queensland . Had  she  been  politically involved over  the  Dismissal ?  If so, had  this   played   a  part  in his  subsequent development, Carey asked . The    book  opens  with   an  Australian    female   hacker , born 11/11/75 –the   date  of    the  dismissal.   Interviewed  by  Fran Kelly  on  Radio National  , Carey   brought  up  the  WW  ll episode   described as  the  Battle  of  Brisbane in which  Australia  and  American soldiers  fought  each other on  Thanks  Giving Day  ,  the  event  censored