It seems an eternity ago that we placed our 2nd cache in this nice little town. We were young, excited, and full of energy. Over the months indirect 'feedback' began to trickle in that it was a little too nasty and possibly even the word 'haystacking' was used! In view of this we have decided to make this a little more straightforward. No sneaky nano here. For those keen on a smiley - grab the coordinates, the cache is under one of the timber garden edges near the entrance to the park. Off you shoot! Ya keen Scallywags!
Now for those of you who enjoy a bit of a yarn. Here's a beauty.
It seems like eons ago when the C&D of cdmark started courting, but I remember vividly my first introduction to her family, and in particular, her Uncle Bob. Now first impressions can often be everlasting and my initial contact with Bob was of no exception. I first met Bob at the annual Bucks and Does Ball at the Deniliquin RSL. He was standing at the bar, a mountain of a man, downing beer like their was no tomorrow and holding the attention of the small group of people around him in the palm of his hand. Bob enjoys a chat and a bit of a yarn and when he heard that an outsider was making the moves on his niece he thought he better have a man to man. That would be the first of many I might add.
Bob was the 7th son of his beloved mother Myrtle and her husband of the time Stan (I never met Stan, apparantly he left one day saying that he had to 'tend the sheep' and never came back). Through the many chats with Bob I learned that his mother was tough woman. I also learned of Bob's brother Bill's exclusion from the family over the theft of 6 shillings from a canal contractor in Echuca in the 30's. Bob also described his mother as an uncompromising Scottish woman who apparently had the eyes of a snake and could wring the truth from you by twisting your ear till it bleeds. This was something that Bob had also mastered well.
My first conversation with Bob involved many topics. Apparently he has had cancer 5 times, a broken shoulder and he believed a lack of porridge in the modern diet is the reason for a proliferation of weak "wimps and faeries". Bob recounted the time he realised that the doctors in Queensland were far better than the doctors in Deniliquin when, following a freak accident when he stepped on a river mussel, he contracted blood poisoning and after receiving no satisfaction from his local medico, drove in his truck to Brisbane to seek the advise of a lovely Chinese doctor. Bob apparently likes the Chinese, they're smart and diligent and they don't just specialise in treating one part of your body. Following his first course of treatment, Bob went for a walk around the Brisbane river. He vividly recalled the high level of excellent bird life on display in Brisbane, due entirely he believes, to a reduced population of cats. Upon returning from his walk, the doctor was so amazed at his physical prowess that he described Bob as "not being human". I felt there was something in that for all of us.
Bob also recounted a story about his ex-wife, who he said took off after being found out to be a drunk, cocaine addict and a sexual free for all. Bob allegedly traveled up to Wagga and confronted his ex-wife's partner in an eatery where he used the old "I'll distract you by whipping out the table cloth" trick and proceeded to biff him for his trouble. Bob took pride in his personal biff count which apparantly stands between 40 and 50. Over the years Bob had apparantly developed 2 biffing techniques. One was the spleen breaker, where a well controlled punch to the abdominals would render your opponent wailing and vomiting plasma. The other was the Army trained technique of the left sided elbow chest thrust followed by the back hander to the nose gristle. Bob always believed his cat like reflexes and iron constitution (forged on porridge, banana and dried fruit), reinforced through a daily regimen of 12 push ups and 60 sit ups a day had allowed him to maintain his personal ability to provide fatal defense capabilities. He last broke someone's spleen at the age of 83.
Bob's life has had it's share of ups and downs, he explained to me that he had once tried to drown himself in Lake Weeroona after his relationship with a girl from Bendigo ended abruptly, however, the lake was not deep enough. By this time in the conversation I was contemplating contacting the City of Greater Bendigo to see if this could have been rectified!
“The Run”.
Country football breeds a lot of tough knuckled characters and Bob was no exception. Every country town has a folk hero, legend, or a yarn about when 'so and so did this' or 'that'. Nathalia is no exception. Bob loved his footy and when he ran on to the ground he received a large dose of 'white line fever'.
Unfortunately for Bob he missed a large number of games during the Picola & District League’s 1952 season with a bad case of osteitis pubis, however, despite lacking Bob’s presence on the field, Nathalia still managed to make the finals. The preliminary final was hard fought with Nathalia just getting over the line by a solitary point. Bob was rushed back for the big game the following week.
It rained for several days prior to the grand final and the ground was an absolute quagmire with 6-10 inches of mud covering the entire surface. It even rained on the day of the Grand Final causing Nathalia’s soprano extraordinaire, the local post mistress Beryl Hargreaves, to have to sing the National Anthem in the boy’s changing rooms. The boys didn’t mind but poor old Beryl couldn’t look at them the same way when they came to collect their mail from that day on.
The match was tough and gritty, like any grand final should be. Nathalia was 6 goals up coming into the last quarter but Kotupna made a clever change and moved their Ruckman, Ron Best, into the forward line and even with the rain bucketing down Ron had bagged 7 goals putting Kotupna 5 points up in time on. The Nathalia coach, Cecil Felcher was ropeable. In a desperate attempt to kerb Ron’s run he moved Bob into the backline to "put a stop to this nonsense". Cecil never swore but he came close that day.
With literally only seconds left on the clock the ball was heading back into Kotupna’s forward line, Ron and Bob flew and their bodies clashed with a sickening thud. Both players went A over T, but fortunately Bob was the first to his feet. He tucked the football under his arm and just ran. By this time Ron had gotten to his feet and started chase. Now many of you may have heard about “Gabbo’s Run” in the 1964 VFL grand final, what Bob did that day makes Gabbo look like he had a stroll in the park.
Because of their lead, and bugger all time left on the clock, most of the Kotupna team had gathered in their forward half of the field and seeing this Bob gathered the mud soaked ball and began his epic, bouncing run toward an unguarded goal face. The crowd went deadly silent as Bob started his breathtaking, lung-busting run that, depending on whom you hear it from, stretches from 40 to 100 metres. The image of a lumbering giant being chased by desperate Kotupna defenders who were closing rapidly has been burned into many supporter’s minds. With every bounce that Bob took wobbling dangerously before he regained it, until, with the Nathalia fans' hearts in their mouths, he finally reaching the goal square and belted it through for a major. With the roar of the crowd only being amplified by the final siren. Bob's efforts left him kneeling, exhausted in the goal square as the hoard of Nathalia fans erupted from their seats flocking onto the ground.
That story is now folklore in country football terms, however, what many people don’t know is that Bob actually lost his boots in the thick mud during the third quarter of the game. The only other footwear he had in his duffle bag was actually a pair of mismatching thongs. Unperturbed, Bob donned the thongs for the last quarter. Now, to this day Bob’s footy boots have never been recovered from the footy ground but his thongs now hang in the main bar in the Criterian Hotel in Nathalia with the words “Dead Set Legend” scribbled underneath.
The Kanyapella Cup
Uncle Bob was also a keen horseman and certainly could hold his own when it came to breaking in and riding animals of the equine variety. During the 50's and 60's the Riverina area was very popular with many young bucks that would come from the city to gain experience with horse handling and also try their luck with the local fillies of the 2 legged variety. Now, Bob was a proud man and loved his rural upbringing and did not take too kindly to 'city mongrels' invading his territory on both grounds. The Kanyapella Cup was a very a very popular racing meet during this time and held on a rotational basis between the towns of Echuca and Nathalia. It was Nathalia's turn in 1961 to host the race and Bob thought he would try his hand. Now a city lad from Brighton by the name of Randy Montgomery had been working on a sheep station north of Nathalia and had been bragging in one of the local watering holes how much of a great rider he was. Randy threw down the challenge that he would personally pay any rider 1000 pounds if they were able to beat him and his ride in a special one-on-one race during that years Cup, all 4 miles of it. Now Bob had previously taken a disliking to Randy as he made a move on one of the local girls by the name of Charlene which Bob was a bit keen on. After an hour or so of Randy's rants, and due to the fact that Bob had a few sherberts under his belt, the challenge was thrown down. The race was due to occur the following Saturday.
During this same time, Bob was working on the NSW Bridge and Road board and was working in Deniliquin assisting with the completion of 'Loy's Bridge' that was crossing the Edwards River to finally link up the South and North side of Deniliquin by road. There had been very heavy rain over the last few days which had caused some major holdups to the bridge and Bob and his crew had been working overtime to complete the works. Disaster struck on the day before the race with the foundations of the bridge on the north side of the river being washed away during a flash flood, virtually severing the link that the lads had established. As you could imagine, this caused a great deal of problems for the township and was also exacerbated by the fact that the punt that the townspeople had been using prior to the building of the bridge had been decommissioned. The punt was now sitting on the bottom of the Edwards River after the townspeople celebrated the commencement of the building of the new bridge by setting the punt alight. Now, to also add to the drama, on the North side of Deniliquin is a little township called Conargo which some of you may have heard of due to the popularity of it's pub out that way. Now Conargo is a great little area of farmland, sheep stations and horse breeding properties. Because Bob had been staying in town during the building of the bridge, his 'noble steed' was on agistment at one of the properties at Conargo. Bob's horse, which was named after the Nordic god of speed "Goliketheclappers" was rumoured to be one of the fastest nags in the Riverina area. Bob now had a dilemma he had to sort out, he had to race Randy the next day and his ride was stuck on the other side of a raging river.
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Now this sort of news travels fast and hearing of the terrible news the townspeople of Deniliquin decided to put their thinking caps on and see if they could assist Bob with his problem - they had to find a ride for Bob! You might think that finding another horse in the Deniliquin area would be an easy task, and normally it would be except the fact that a there had been problems with a severe case of Equine Influenza over the previous months and the majority of horses had been shipped further North to the small township of Clagg for Quarantine...all of them in fact...except one. Percy Jones was the local 'milko' in Deniliquin and although the motor car had been around for several years in the area Percy was a stickler to tradition and would still deliver his goods by horse and cart. Percy had a horse that had been able to withstand anything, even the dreaded 'flu. The locals would often joke saying that the two things that would survive a holocaust would be cockroaches and Percy's horse "Knackery Lad". Knackery Lad did have a fine pedigree and had been 'first past the post' on several occasions at race meets held in Sunbury in the past...the past being 17 years before! Knackery Lad even has a street named after him in one of the Sunbury Estates. Somewhat reluctantly, Percy agreed to let Bob borrow his horse for the race but only after he had completed the milk run on the Saturday morning. The Cup race started at 9:00, Percy would finish his milk run by 8:00 which meant that would give Bob only an hour to ride Knackery Lad from Deniliquin to Nathalia for the race. This would be just enough time providing nothing went wrong.
Percy finished his run dead on 8:00 and Bob headed off with the townspeople cheering in the background. Everything was going fine, Knackery Lad was making good time and Bob felt confident. Yes, everything was going fine. Everything until Bob and Knackery Lad reached the small town of Barmah on the NSW and Victoria border. What Bob didn't know was that Knackery Lad had a huge fear of drop bears and this was drop bear country. As the pair rounded the corner to take the punt across the Murray River, they ran head on into a pack of drop bears (I am not sure what the correct collective term actually is). Knackery Lad was startled, lost his footing and both Bob and Knackery Lad ended A over T and sliding across the dirt track towards the river. Fortunately, Bob was able to regain his footing and managed to grab Knackery Lad's reins before he ended up in the drink. After a quick limb count both rider and steed were intact, the only problem was that Knackery Lad had lost a shoe. Now, a pair of thongs may work on a muddy football field but they would not help out a lame steed in this situation. Bob had to think fast, and fast he did think. Quickly surveying the area Bob found a couple of empty beer cans, tough old tin cans, not like the woosy aluminum ones that you find today. With the help of a rock Bob was able to mold another shoe for Knackery Lad and using one of the laces from his boot, he was able to secure the makeshift shoe to Knackery hoof. Off they galloped again, although somewhat gingerly. Fortunately, the remainder of the trip to Nathalia was less eventful but this hiccup would mean that Bob would be cutting it very fine to make the race in time.
As Bob galloped into the township of Nathalia he could hear all the fanfare coming from the track and urged his ride on. Now, the rules for the one-on-one race during the Kanyapella Cup is that the race commences right on 9:00 regardless if all competitors are there or not. As Bob rode through town he could here the clock on the Post Office strike it's ninth gong and as the last dong was resonating he could hear the starter's gun go off. As Bob entered the track he could see Randy had started and was rounding the first turn. Bob and Knackery Lad jumped the railing in full stride and started off in pursuit. The distance between them was some 600 yards but with nostrils flaring from both rider and steed they gradually reduced the gap. As they passed the 3 mile mark the gap was back to 500 yards, and with 300 to go both riders were virtually neck and neck.
Now, to tie this story in we need to take a little break from the action and explain a little more about Bob's personality. Although quite tough, Bob was also a bit of a practical joker and the local kids of Nathalia enjoyed his stories and his practical jokes. One of their favourites, which Bob taught them on his last visit, was the old 'spud up the exhaust pipe' trick. The folk of Nathalia are also very thirsty people and although it had only gone past 9:00 the bar had run out of beer. Anticipating huge celebrations at the end of this great race the local publican, Graham Nancarrow, thought he better head into town to get additional supplies. Irony can be a beautiful and also an fortunate thing. Fortunate in the sense that a couple of the lads chose this morning to try out Bob's spud trick and also fortunate that they chose to try it out on Graham's Austin A40.
With only a few yards to go in the race, Graham jumped in his car, turned the key and the motor began to wind over. Graham was surprised that his car did not start immediately as it was very reliable. With a frown he pumped the gas peddle a couple of times and tried again. The motor began to wind over and finally burst into life, however, instead of purring like a kitten his Austin sounded more like a moggy with a bad dose of cat flu! Graham thought a couple of extra pumps of the gas might do the trick. Now, there are a few schools of thought out there on what might happen when you occlude an exhaust pipe with and object. Now, I can only go by what was witnessed by the majority of the crowd that day. The build up pressure in Graham's A40 was enough to shoot the lads spud out of the exhaust at and amazing rate and with a loud bang. The sound of the explosion was enough to wake the dead but the amazing thing was Graham was parked only several yards from the finish line. Call it what you will but as timing would have it both Bob and Randy were approaching the finish line neck and neck and when the spud shot out the crowd watched in amazement as it flew across the fence and struck Knackery Lad smack bang on the rump. With a sound like a whale getting it's tail stuck in a car door, Knackery Lad lurched forward just enough to get his snout over the line before Randy's nag did. And again, history was made!
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Now if you are still reading this, the above coordinates will take you to a small park by the creek which has been named in Bob's honour. Did I mention that the cache is under one of the timber garden edges near the entrance to the park hidden by a small rock?