“ISLE “BE SEEING YOU....THE WONDER YEARS...CHAPTER TWO....

Orchid Beach...an acrylic painting by me...

Cape Richards (o the right)...and Orchid Beach, Hinchinbrook Island

Ramsay Bay, Hinchinbrook Island

"Abalone"

Me, second from right, dining with guests.  Johnno, my barman on the right.  And the lass, standing, was an Aussie champion in "Big Fish" competitions.

Chapter Two:

To explain my “blowing a fuse” when I found David and Jamie sky-larking on the little one-person sailing craft in the resort pool...I begin this chapter of my Jamie story with...

Bob, the skipper of the “Reef Cat”, the large, powered catamaran contracted to the resort to transport guests, provisions etc., to the island, also played host to the island guests, taking them for day trips to Ramsay Bay, the Brook Islands National Park, Garden and Goold Island, and, the rare times, when the winds permitted, Zoe Bay.

Around 3.30 pm one afternoon, Bob was returning to the resort with a boatload of the resort's guests.  They’d spent the day snorkeling in the crystal waters around the Brook Islands, as well as enjoying a picnic on the island.

  

On the return trip, he passed an errant guest heading, eastward, out to sea, as the sun had already begun its descent into the west.

Bob hailed the lone sailor asking if he’d like a tow back. The cocky guest shook his head. He replied he didn’t need any assistance. Bob continued back to the resort where he reported his sighting to me. I growled. I couldn’t believe anyone could be so stupid, but on second thoughts, I knew I should never be surprised by what some people would do!

Standing on the headland, I scanned the ocean, but could only see the outline of the Brook Islands on the far distant, eastern horizon. There was no sign of the lone sailor.

Dusk fell, followed quickly by the darkness of night. Still no sign of the resort guest. To say I was "angry", was an understatement!

Ted, my head maintenance man, and able seaman, jumped aboard “Lady of the Island”, the little island boat...a 13ft/4m "Abalone" craft with an outboard motor.   

Ted headed out to sea.  “Lady” wasn’t well-equipped for night travel, but Ted, armed with a large marine “Dolphin” torch/flashlight, insisted he’d go in search for our thoughtless guest.

By that stage, I was so angered by the fellow’s arrogant stupidity I couldn’t care less what happened to him!  My concern was Ted’s safety, not the fool who had displayed little regard for anyone else, including his own self.

The rest of resort guests were enjoying their evening, dining and conversing with each other in the dining area, as I tried to keep a lid on things.

Around 9 pm, Ted arrived at the water’s edge on Orchid Beach, the resort’s main beach.  On board, with him, was the not-so-ancient-mariner.  He'd towed the small sailing boat safely back to shore, too.

The guy was in his late 20s-early 30s.  He should have had more sense.

I didn’t hold back in telling the thoughtless excuse for a human being what I thought, either!  I told him if he so much as put his little toe near the ocean I’d have his guts for garters! As far as I was concerned he was confined to quarters for the rest of his stay on the island. He was very contrite after my justified tirade.

For the remainder of his stay on the island, he was meek and mild, and on his best behaviour.

So, my “blowing a fuse” when I spotted David and Jamie in the pool with the sailing craft so soon after that incident, was also justified... I saw “red”.    

Their actions made my words to the foolish guest redundant. Anyway, the initial anger I’d felt towards them didn’t last for long. We laughed about it once they returned the boat back to the foreshore, where it belonged.  They did promise me they'd not do it again!

  

Jamie’s time on the island was good for everyone. He won the hearts of my staff, both male and female. Also, I believe, his time spent in “paradise” served an important lesson in his maturing.  His turning into a fine, young man, from a fine, young boy, was almost tangible.

It was a Saturday. A journalist from the “Townsville Bulletin” was expected on the” Reef Cat”, due to arrive at the jetty around 9 am. He was visiting the island to gather information for an exposé he was writing about the island, and the resort, for his newspaper. I’d planned a special lunch of freshly-cooked mud crabs, to share with him as he and I discussed the business of the day.

The telephone in my office rang. A friend of Jamie’s was on the other end of the telephone, calling from Bellingham, in the US state of Washington.

Jamie’s father had passed away suddenly.  

Hurriedly, I went in search of Jamie. Finding him, gently, and quietly, I took him aside. 

Together, we went down to the beach.  Sitting close beside him, I told him the devastating news.  It was heart-wrenching to see the despair on the young man’s face.

For quite a while I stayed with Jamie...by his side...to be of comfort. Believing he needed time to himself...to try to put what had occurred into some kind of perspective...I left him to his own thoughts.  He knew I would be within easy reach...be there for him...when he needed me.

A little while later Jamie came into my office.  By the time he’d rejoined me, I’d organized a flight south for him to link to a flight back to the States,  on the Saturday...same day/night we’d received the sad news.

Jim, the journalist from the “Townsville Bulletin”, offered to drive Jamie from Cardwell to Townsville airport. We decided to put our business meeting on hold to another time.  What had happened in Jamie's life was far more important.  Bob agreed to make a special, earlier trip back to the mainland taking both Jim and Jamie with him.

It was all systems go for the next couple of hours.

Jamie hurriedly threw together his belongings.  Brief, grief-stricken farewells were exchanged between him and his work-mates. His co-workers, all of whom had grown to love him... were very upset.  Daina was almost inconsolable.   We had lost a good friend, a fun member of our “family”; one who was genuinely a lovely young man in every way.

That evening the staff mingled together. A small party in Jamie's honour ensued. We toasted Jamie's future, and in his absence. We wished him well.

A couple of his co-workers - his mates - and I, received communications from Jamie a few times after he returned to the States, but, as life has a habit of interfering, contact was eventually lost...not the memories, though, of that I am certain...

I am sure Jamie went on to have a successful, happy life.  Always, I have wished him well.  Always, Jamie will have my gratitude for what he brought, not only to my life, but to those of his workmates, too.

“ISLE “BE SEEING YOU....THE WONDER YEARS

David & Jamie in the pool

Jamie

Jamie and Daina...with Kaycee looking on!  Circa 1986 on Hinchinbrook Island

Orchid Beach, Cape Richards, Hinchinbrook Island

My time spent as manager of the Hinchinbrook Island resort was wonderful...the “Wonder Years”.

Guests who visited the island’s resort came from all walks of life, from overseas, intrastate and interstate.

Quite a few “name” people visited Cape Richards Resort for a “hide-away” break from the burdens of the “real world”.

British actor, John Nettles holidayed for a week at the resort.  At the time of his visit, Nettles was best known for his lead role in the then popular television series, “Bergerac”.  Later, after “Bergerac” ran its course, John Nettles went onto play the lead role in the series “Midsomer Murders” for a number of years, until he left to pursue his stage career.

John was as nice a person in real life as he appeared to be on television; a quiet, polite gentleman of the first degree. Accompanying him on his Aussie holiday was his then girlfriend, Sue, a nurse, who worked in London.

One of the joys of the laid-back resort was the guests relaxed as they mingled together over “Happy Hour”, and evening drinks, as well as dinner.  Everyone was on a “level playing field”.  There was no peer pressure.  That was the way I wanted it to be; the way I orchestrated it to be.

Dinner guests...breakfast and luncheon diners, too...were treated as if they were guests in my own private, personal dining room...guests in my home, which in a way, they were.  

How much, or how little anyone had in his or her bank account mattered not at all. There was no “pose”, and no “poseurs” (except two or three, but they were rapidly and subtly brought back down to earth with a jolt, with no prisoners taken!)  Each guest was special in his or her own way.

A group of four arrived by sea plane one Saturday. Two women, both in their late fifties, or early sixties, who had been friends for years, I soon discovered, together with the daughter of one, and the son of the other, stepped out of the Grumman Mallard into the punt. Each was not quite sure of what lay ahead. The tentative looks upon their faces mirrored many other arrivals who had gone before, and of those yet to come.

During dinner that evening I spent a quite a lot of time chatting with the new group at their table.  

Jo, the daughter of the Australian woman, worked in the film industry.  Four years earlier, in 1982, she had worked on the production of “The Man from Snowy River”.   

The movie, based, of course, on Banjo Paterson’s poem of the same name, starred Kirk Douglas, Tom Burlinson, Jack Thompson, Sigrid Thornton, among others.

Jo had interesting stories to tell about the making of the movie, and about the magnificent Victorian High Country, where the film was shot in lieu of the actual Snowy Mountains.  (“Film licence”...akin to “poetic licence”...was applied).

Sitting quietly, listening, but saying little, was Jamie, the son of one of the women.  

Jamie was one of the most beautiful-looking young men I had ever seen…have ever seen. His blond hair, naturally streaked by the sun framed his near-perfect face. Jamie’s clear green eyes displayed a youthful shyness. To match his good looks, he had the body of a Greek god. He and his mother were visiting Australia from Bellingham, way up north in Washington State, not far from Vancouver, British Columbia.

To me, Jamie appeared burdened by his beauty. By no means was he vain. However, he seemed to hide from the world, a world, which, unfortunately, in many cases, judges people on their appearance.

Upon arriving in Australia, Jamie had gained part-time employment in Melbourne to help cover the costs of his vacation, a job he’d given up to come to the island with his mother and her friends.

Over dinner, I drew the shy young man into the conversation.  I learned he’d not long turned nineteen years of age, and was taking a year’s “sabbatical” before going to college back in the States.

During the following week of the group’s stay, I continued my attempt to draw Jamie out of his shyness at every opportunity.  I understood it must have been somewhat difficult for him being on holidays with his mother, her best friend, and Jo, the daughter, who was in her late twenties. Not an ideal age group with whom a young man should be spending his holidays.

On top of the obvious, Jo appeared to be in “recovery” from some unspoken malady, or broken-heart, or perhaps both. She wasn’t the brightest of company for anyone, let alone a reserved lad of nineteen.

The day of the group’s departure arrived. I took Jamie aside, and told him if he ever wanted a job during his stay in Australia, to not hesitate in calling me. I promised I would find a place for him at the resort.

A pleasant surprise awaited me on the end of the telephone line a couple of weeks or so later.  It was Jamie asking me if my job offer still stood.

“Of course it does!” I answered. “I’m so glad you made the decision. When can you get here?”

Within a few days, Jamie arrived to the island.

At first, my staff was wary.  

One young lass, Bronnie, said to me when I announced that Jamie would be joining them, “You mean that guy who was holidaying here a couple of weeks ago…the good-looking one?”

“Yep..that’s him,” I told her.

“But, he’s stuck-up!” Bronnie retorted petulantly.

“How would you know that, Bronnie? You don’t know him. Just because he’s a handsome young man, doesn’t make him “stuck up!” I said, more than a little agitated by her prejudicial attitude. “Give the boy a chance when he gets here. I expect…I want you and the rest of the crew to give him a “fair go”.  Don’t judge a book by its cover. I got to know Jamie when he stayed here, you didn’t! He's a lovely young fellow...you'll see!  You will soon be eating your words!”

In no time at all, the staff, both male and female fell in love with Jamie. He was such a fine young man one couldn’t help but fall under his spell. He had absolutely no airs or graces about him whatsoever.

David, my wild, fun-loving, no-holds-barred chef (with whom I am still good friends) and Jamie became great mates.

It was the best thing that Jamie could have done, come to work at the island resort. Doing so certainly made his visit to Australia memorable.

Even hard-nosed Bronnie (whom I adored) wilted in his presence.  She and Jamie became a good friends. Daina, another young staff member, fell hard and fast.  It was much more than “friendship” Daina felt towards Jamie. She became smitten. It wasn’t difficult to understand. If I’d been her age, I would have become so, too. As it was .I felt very protective towards Jamie. He was special. He glowed.  All who met him couldn't help but be affected by his unique aura.

Late one afternoon as I approached the restaurant area after changing into my evening attire (smart-casual), I heard a lot of ruckus and much loud laughter. There in the pool in front of me, David and Jamie, dressed up as pirates, were sailing one of the island’s small (very tiny) catamarans. They were smaller than a Hobie cat!

I blew a fuse, even though inside I could see the funny side, but at the precise moment Keeping a lid on the amusement I felt, I ordered them out of the pool, and to take the craft back down to the beach where it belonged. 

I’ll never forget the look on their faces. They were like two little boys being harshly reprimanded by their mother! To this day, I laugh about it, each time I recall that afternoon; and their sheepish reactions.  

It wasn’t really them that made me angry, but some else that had occurred. 

Only a couple of days before their innocent hi-jinx, a guest had sailed one of the small wind-riders out far beyond the island’s permitted perimeters.  Restrictions had to be placed on to the areas, and to the distances guests could sail. I didn’t have the necessary safety and rescue teams in case of emergencies. The small crafts were only suitable for playing around in shallow waters close to the resort beach.

To be continued......

A LENGTHY FOLLOW-ON FROM MY PREVIOUS POST!

 

Gympie Town Hall/Post Office at the Five-Ways

Gympie Post Office in Channon Street...Top End of Town

Patterson's Drapers & Outfitters, Mary St. Gympie

Hanlon's once know as "Pattersons'"

Gympie Civic Centre

Gympie Gas Works (No longer exists)

 

Glandore Private Hospital, Gympie

Mellor Street, Gympie Circa 2020...the street headed downhill is Fern Street, the street in which I spent my childhood and teenage years.  The house on the corner was alos there during those years, so long ago..

To further fill in the gaps in Mary Street, Gympie...more memories made their appearance, therefore filling in the gaps in my mind.   

My reflections in my previous post jolted further recollections of businesses that served the town’s populace, and those in its surrounding areas, during my childhood and teenage years.

Since writing my below musing, I’ve remembered Cameron’s, a fine old shop, lined with polished timber and stained glass owned and operated by a brother and sister. Miss Cameron had a large goiter, which she did her utmost to disguise by wearing high-necked outfits.  Both she and her brother seemed elderly to me...but then, to young children, anyone over the age of 30 years is “old”!

White’s Cash Store was a privately owned and run little grocery shop in Mary Street, a few shops along from the stand-alone, self-service BCC grocery store (Brisbane Cash and Carry), which was situated on the corner of Mary and Smithfield Streets...opposite the Bank of New South Wales building which, in those years, also housed Radio Station 4GY.

In those years, Gympie boasted two post offices.  The Town Hall was situated at the Five-Ways intersection of Calton Hill, Caledonian Hill, Lawrence Street, Mellor Street and Mary Street. Upon completion of construction, the original building was opened in 1891.

At top end of town...on the corner of Channon Street and Duke Street...opposite the Freemasons’ Hotel...the now heritage-listed “old” Gympie Post Office sat.  It was built between the years 1978 to 1889.    

Heilbronn’s Grocery Store was opposite the Post Office in Duke Street.

Hanlon’s, home improvements/curtains etcs., is housed in a building constructed in 1867 by the Patterson brothers, which was then known as “Patterson’s Drapers & Outfitters”. The building/arcade is a few doors down from the Jeffery, Cuddihy & Joyce building (known as “Tozer & Jeffery”  as described in my previous post.

Down the street a little on the corner of Mary and Monkland Streets was Goldsbrough Mort & Co., agricultural, stock agents, brokers and auctioneers.

Moving along, heading towards the Five-Ways, in the centre of Mary Street, was the Liberty Theatre (a “picture” theatre...that during the early to mid-Sixties also hosted very popular record hops).   

During one of those record hops I won a Limbo competition.  Ahhh!  The joys and flexibility of one’s teenage years!

On the corner of Lawrence Street and Mary Street, at the Five-Ways, opposite Webster’s Corner Store was a walled-up building.  It originally had been an open-air picture theatre (not a “drive-in” picture theatre), but it never operated during my childhood.  When we were kids we tried our hardest to find a hole or crack in one of the outer walls so we could see what hidden mysteries lay within.  We failed.

Next door to the “mysterious” intriguing building was a small, narrow milk bar, which was next door to the Olympia Theatre...the theatre we frequently frequented.  In particular...never did we miss a Saturday afternoon matinee.  The only times we failed to turn up for a Saturday matinee, were when we were  at Tin Can Bay with our mother and grandmother, fishing, crabbing and collecting oysters.

Turning left after exiting the Olympia Theatre, in Mellor Street, next door to the theatre was another milk bar.  Theatre patrons were never short of a choice of milkshakes, Maltesers, Jaffas, or other preferred sweet treats. 

(The Olympia Theatre no longer exists.  The Gympie Civic Centre, with a capacity of over 600 now graces the site.  The official opening of the Centre was in 1977).

A little further along from the theatre and milk bar, Jack Cornes, Funeral Director, offered comfort and understanding to those who suffered loss of a loved one. 

A couple of doors up the street from Mr. Cornes (who was a lovely gentleman) was Joe Daly, the town tailor who suited the locals. His business premises, and his home, stood side by side.  

“Uncle” Joe was married to “Auntie"Annie, who was our Nana’s cousin.  Uncle Joe had the largest private aviary I have ever seen.  His well-maintained back garden, the home of the aviary, was a mini-maze. Well-manicured hedges wandered throughout the grounds.  The garden and aviary fascinated my brother and me.  Around the garden, peacocks leisurely strolled.

A few lengthy strides past the Daly’s property was the seed merchants, Jackson’s store. Next to Jackson’s was a fish and chip shop. From memory, both at one stage went up in flames.  Crisp chips and battered fish were on the menu that night!

And then, one came upon a mass of land that was the home of the Gympie Gas Works. 

We lived in Fern Street, which was close by.  We often walked through the grounds of the gas works as our short-cut into Mellor Street when we were headed to the Olympia Theatre, or into Mary Street...if we didn’t want to go via Lawrence Street, at one end of Fern Street.  The Central State School...the primary school both my brother and I attended is in Lawrence Street.  We had a very short stroll to school.  

Oft times, when going to the matinees, we went via another short-cut...along McLeod Street, and across the gully beside the tar works.  (The tar works was one of our favourite places to play, too). 

Such adventures we had when going “down town”!  

Mellor Street is a long street that leads up to, and culminates at Tozer Street where the then Gympie Railway Station was.  The original Gympie railway station is now heritage-listed.  The first rail link between Brisbane and Gympie commenced in 1891, and the now heritage-listed old station began operation in 1913.  It was replaced by the new Gympie North Station in 1989.

The Butter Factory and the Farmers’ Co-Operative Store were both in Tozer Street.

There were many businesses along Mellor Street...automobile workshops/fuel stops, car yards, two grocery stores, Lane & Ward’s butcher shop, a café etc.  

My brother and I returned newspapers and empty soft drink bottles to the butcher shop and to the general stores, and received payment, which topped up our piggy banks!

During my childhood years, Gympie had three hospitals.  The Lister and Glandore Hospitals were private hospitals; and then the public hospital...the Gympie Hospital. There are now two hospitals in Gympie.

And, that, I imagine, is enough history of Gympie to last my readers a lifetime.  If I've bored you, I apologise; it was not my intention.

However,....for my own interest, and peace of mind, I wanted to record the recollections I have.

The above is what happens when my memory bank is opened.  Not sticking to usual trading hours, my mind decides to spring into life when I’ve shut down for the night, and am trying to go to sleep!!