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NO, THAT'S NOT ME BUT ITS SURFN' ANYWAY. And it could have been at Avalon, (before surf rage).
These pages will be devoted entirely to Avalon Beach Surf Life Saving Club, my many years, my many friends, the good times and bad. (http://www.avalonbeachslsc.com.au/).
Without any doubt this magnificent organization has been and is the greatest example of what's good in Australian Society. The unreserved giving of men and women, and boys and girls time to make our beaches safe for our citizens, and have a great time doing it.
If you want comradeship and a healthy way of life join a Surf Club, if you have an urge to contribute to society and expect nothing back for your time donated join a Surf Club, when you want to learn new and worthwhile skills, all of the above.
2007-10-26. Just had a crash, we have been through another series of thunder storms, power was cut and some material wiped.
ALL OF THE MATERIAL CONTAINED IN AVALON SURF CLUB PAGES IS FROM RECOLLECTION OF PAST EXPERIENCES, SOME EXPRESSIONS ARE THE SPOKEN WORD. MY REFERANCES TO MEMBERS LIVING OR NO LONGER WITH US ARE NOT INTENDED TO INSULT NOR DENIGRATE. ALL OF THE STORIES ARE LARGLY TRUE. SHOULD ANY PERSON OR RELATION OF ANY PERSON HAVE ANY REASON FOR DISCOMFIT PLEASE CONTACT ME, (johnfarls@bigpond.com). Your club was my club, it gave me the best period of my meager life, it also taught me a better way of life.
In the previous page, MANY JOBS MANY SKILLS, I gave you a brief outline of my intro to Avalon.
Lets draw up come ground rules here to protect the innocent, and to prevent litigation proceedings.
Rule #1; No real names will be used, only first names. You will recognise your name. Well some real names.
Rule#2; Absolutely no names in connection to TV Nell.
Rule#3; Brian will not be accused of hoisting a back brace up the flag pole.
Rule#4; The meaning of the term QY's will never be divulged.
1956, Torquay Aussie Surf Lifesaving Championships, and the Olympic Games
You got that, ok; I officially joined Avalon in April 1956, our Bronze Team worked their bronze's off for me to obtain my Bronze. Paul the Copper was frantic on my late arrival. Soon after, Brian the Typewriter King and Michael The Number Cruncher and me, (no Name) ventured to Melbourne, I have not long turned 17 and this would be my first big trip on surf club stuff.
THE AUSTIN WITH A BIG HEART
The Australian SLS titles were to be held at Torquay and another Sporting event called the Olympic Games held in conjunction. Brian owned an Austin A30, black with a "V" bottomed paddle board stuck to the top. We basically lived out of this little car, and I cannot remember, did we take a tent Michael?
And so we set off on the inland h / way for what would be a great adventure. About the only drama we had was on the south side of Gundagai; the driver in a car going north signaled frantically to us and we waved back, we assumed he thought we were Olympic competitors. How wrong he was and vice versa wrong. We approached a sweeping left hander and began our descent to cross a single lane bridge at the bottom of the hill, problem #1; a semi trailer was coming down the hill from the other side and we would meet in the middle, problem #2; Brian applied the brakes to allow the truck access to the bridge first.
Brian's exclamation cannot be repeated here, essentially he said "no bloody breaks", the only option was to accelerate and beat many tons of metal and rubber from ending our young lives. At increditable speed we roared across the narrow bridge just beating the Semi, Claxton blaring and the driver gesticulating. God we're safe, problem #3; how do we stop the rotten car, Brian always the thinker yells; "as we slow down going up the hill you guys jump out and grab some rocks and stick them behind the wheels", problem #4; no problem, as the Austin began to slow to a crawl, we leapt out of the car and as luck would have it found a rock each, jammed them behind the back wheels, not a problem.
Main problem, wet pants, we collected our sanity while Brian inspected the cause of THE problem, the break linkage rod that connects the breaks had a small split pin, this worked loose allowing the connecting rod to drop to the ground and this was what the passing driver was trying to convey. A small bent nail soon had us back on the road to Melbourne.
Problems, what problems? Did we have any more good times, you bet.
TORQUAY, SHOOTIN' AND GOING TO THE PICTURES
Nothing was going to phase us now, we arrived in Melbourne on the best road out, sorry Melbournians, and as I remember headed for Torquay, several miles from Melbourne. Memories have faded in relation to finer details, I do remember the water being bitterly cold, we inspected the beach and I think we stayed the night, Tent?
Some how, we managed to do some shooting, we had brought our .22's and shot the buggery out of the country side, Michael you were a hopeless marksman, remember Brian's Uncle's farm at "The Oaks"? We ventured back to the City at some stage for you to take advantage of some tickets for the "Games". But not before we had drinks at the great Young and Jacksons pub, paying close attention to Chloe, attempting to get a photograph and being told "no way". WE went somewhere and had peach pies and cream, to die for and then you went and saw your Games. Brian and I were left to our devices, own that is.
So slightly happy from VB we went to a Movie. Not just any old movie, A TOWN LIKE ALICE, that's what.
Well I can remember, well not much, about this Australian Classic, the storey is well known, what is not well known is on this day two grown hoary life savers broke down and cried when all of the women and kids were being escorted through the jungle The regrettably ugly Japanese Guard went for a nature break and was bitten by a snake and passed on. He had been particularly sympathetic to the women and kids, we thought he was a great bloke.
We went to LUNA PARK, we drove the wrong way up the tram tracks across gardens to reach the correct carriageway and we proceeded home on the coast road, stopping at Bega to visit Grand Ma Grace Snowdon, we arrived home safe and well, Brian, Austin A30 rules and we did it again later, this time South Australia.
Brian and Michael, we were mates, we all move on and time slows the memory process, always remember the fun times, there is always the boy in there. ‘Cause I remember them.
Brian, Doug, Don, Warren, John, Jackie, Bobby Rah Rah, Adrian the A class Cat, Alan the Quite Night, Bobby the Head?, Gums, Peter, Peter Piano Player, Phil the Sherriff, Chris the Biologist and Rick and Rick's Mother, Ron ans Di, John, Lennie the Blossom, Aub, Harry the Pres., the list just go's and go's, for you guys and girls not mentioned, you're there only old timers disease has got the author. Remember these names are names are my invention, you have never heard yourself described such.
THE ANNUAL TEST SWIM, SURF BOATS AND OTHER STUFF
Nothing much ever happened to me personally in the competition sense, at an early stage I found the annual test swim became a trial by torture, 16 laps of Avalon rock pool was not good, although one day I did swim 6 mins an 30 secs. The time was disallowed because there was a shark in the pool. A storey goes; if they can't swim stand them up against a wall and throw bricks at their heads, non duckers will be eligible for boat crew. Maybe the record indicates I was Junior Captain, if it does a travesty had occurred, my first job was to sweep a junior boat crew in a club competition. Now I can remember Max the Paddler, (70+years), now not then, and as sweep, being pelted from the boat, the sweep oar breaks and Max is almost impaled. There is a classic photo somewhere. On the day, we had proceeded a matter of 50 yards and I have copped the same treatment, lever syndrome; 12 stone 7 ounces times the power of 8, flat blade in water, no contest.
Well well again, this sequence of events has many years to go and I am looking down the barrel of many pages, I do not intend patronizing those that may be embarrassed, after all the patronizing is for me, loosely described as self indulgence.
In the days of limited members you would find yourself manning a patrol every weekend or at least 2 weekly, no one complained, however, miss a patrol and the 2 more was your penalty. Avalon for many years were champions in what was known as the 8,9 and 10 district of the metropolitan SLSA, the zone included Nth. Palm Bch., Palm Bch., Whale Bch., AVALON BCH., Bilgola, Newport, Bungan, Mona Vale and Warriewood. The system worked by points allocation in events contested, we came up trumps on a regular basis.
Protocol and politics and history you can look up, the records of Avalon Surf Club can be researched; my agenda is to relate personal experiences with my mates, to give some idea of the tremendous impact that 18 years association with Avalon Surf Club gave me.
AUSTIN A30, STILL GOING, AND THE UP AND UNDER
Brian and Michael and I traveled to Moana Beach in South Aussie, late 1950ish?, the Aussie titles were on again. By this time a place had been obtained in the "A" boat crew, 2nd stroke, stroke?. We traveled along the Murray, with the rest of the crew following way behind. Camped out and behaved ourselves. We arrived early and I begun a fitness régime, running and exercises on the 'Dogem' tidal beach. To my dismay, when the other travelers arrived they were shattered, apparently they frequented every pub along the Murray and were in no shape for competition, the boat heats were the following morning. The smell of a 1000 breweries' were still evident when we jumped into the boat to contest our final. We progressed a matter of yards when I heard a loud cough followed by a hot and sticky sensation covering my back, the person behind me, a young man, his name was Don, he was the culprit. Progress was halted, the boat returned to shore, and our contest was over, was I pissed of, you bet. Don was to prove an enigma over the years.
We traveled home along the Great Ocean Road, but not before stocking up with Coopers Ale and Coopers Stout. Brian's Uncle had put in order. Half the order arrived back in Sydney town.
GRACE BROS. AND MAXIE WATT
Summer was all go, we would pack Max the Paddler's removal's truck, hook up the boat and off, Bondi, Maroubra, Coogee, wherever. Manly, Collaroy, you name it. Max had built a tubular rack that fitted neatly into the back of the 6 tonner? We loaded and lashed the skis and paddle boards, made ourselves comfortable on the fridge bags and off.
One notable trip was to Mereweather Beach, State Titles? We arrived on the beach to witness the remains of a revolutionary ply surf boat, there were pieces everywhere, it had just caught a wave, strength was sacrificed for weight, Max used to tell us about the double enders and how heavy they were, but you could not kill them. I rowed in the "A" boat for a number of years, we won bugger all but we enjoyed the competition.
THE REASON FOR ANOTHER CRAPPY POEM, IF YOUR GAME SEE IT IN THE POEMS SECTION
Brian Sproule was the Sweep after Big Brian. Must tell you of the day at Palm Beach; you see the big southerly surf at Nth Palm Bch. had caused the cancellation of the open carnival, so big Brian suggests we launch the boat down at Palm Bch. We dad no difficulty getting behind the wave zone, a rip runs out past the rock pool on the protected south of Palm Bch. Wish I could think who was in the boat, me, Jacky, Michael, Don? 1959? A camera crew from National Geographic was reputed to be on the beach so all hands on deck. As Brian positioned us to; "we'll just catch one so let's make it a good one", it suddenly occurred to us the boat was rising up and down about 50 feet, nah, estimates later suggested 15 / 18 feet.
Could not see the eyes of the other guys, I'll bet they were wide and pensive, so for about 5 minutes we waited then Brian gave the command to Stroke, fair dinkum, have you seen 4 oarsman rowing forward and the boat going backward. We almost got to the point of disaster, in fact, with Brian yelling experlitives, laced with adjectives and generally berating us for our lack of intestinal courage, and rightly so, we just managed to back up and avoid "going down the mine". And he wasn't finished yet, actually my ears ring to this day. He used every patronizing, demeaning, denigrating, belittling word he could think of, and swore as well. He use terms generally reserved for Don, like Mango, def; green on the outside and yellow on the inside, mongrel dogs, weak as piss and other stuff. This time we were ready, and up she came, a big green wave. We must have been 250 yards from the beach and when the offer was made to "row you ---------", we rowed like men possessed. It seemed like an eternity before you feel the nose of the boat falling, he politely asked us to trail the oars and call us back, the wave had not crested at this stage and was building to, well, the size of a 2 story building, but we're back and balanced and professional.
Looking back at Brian the big man was straining every muscle and he called Jacky? to lend assistance, at one stage the 25 foot boat had at least 2/3rd/s of its length protruding from the wave with what seems a gentle bouncing motion, and it still hadn't broken. This resonant bouncing of the bow gets more pronounced, and then the full force of many tons of water fell from the roof. Our momentum will take us in front of the wave and then she catches up, this is when Brian uses all of his skill and power to control and steer the boat, the sweep oar was humming. We are concentrating to keep a balance, the boat is on a perfect course for the beach. For several moments in time we are kings, who gets to get this buzz, and then the sound of sand on plywood is heard, elation takes over from quite panic, and the strange thing about all this is; Brian never spoke once he called comeback, nobody spoke, the only sound was the wind rushing past your face and a gentle roar, at least that's how I saw it on the day. The following day the results of the tremendous effort put in by Brian were made obvious by the great bruise on his thigh.
"ALL CREW, ABONDON SHIP"
Want another boat story? How about A30 Brian and the day we nearly hit pay dirt, and the only time I have heard the command "abandon ship". Maroubra was the open venue and was providing a very respectable surf.
Anybody who has been in a surf boat in troubles will know you never leave the boat, you don't jump overboard, when drama unfolds. You hang onto the seat and wait for every thing to subside.
A reasonable inshore break awaited us with the big waves further out with some lulls between sets, our heat had all gun crews. At this point may I point out that I have been down backwards, sideways, frontward's, upside down and was saved by those cumbersome cork life jackets and hanging on to seat. I have been Offshore Rescue Captain in the VRA and life jackets are mandatory, they are a life saving device and they work. So we get ready and the gun goes for a start, we leap in the boat, all together, one at a time. Brian settles us down and we put our backs to the job, we have to navigate the broken water before the inside break which we do. The first wave was coming up and we really go it for and bingo, we are through. That is when, looking behind and around, we realize that every other boat has problems, we see one going down the mine backwards and the others with a gutful, and we are dry as a bone. It is a matter of about 80 yards or so to the outside break and Brian decides to row us slower but not to lose pace. He informs us that lulls are very intermittent and we have a lot of work to do to clinch a place in the final. And then the command, "give it all you've got and were out". Now I distinctly remember Don rowing 2nd bow and me at bow, because he is in front of me and I can't go any further backward's, we are all putting in the big ones and the boat is flying. And then, an then, Brians eyes start to widen and a look of bugger me appears on his face, "row, row harder, one to beat".
The sensation of the boat going uphill is detected but we are rowing our hardest, this is all in mini seconds, then the ominous sound of breaking water can heard closely followed by the command "abonden ship", now I heard it, Don heard it and we are over the side just before this bloody great wall of water crashes into the bow of the boat. If you have never sounded in a cork life jacket, if you never tried to dive under a big broken wave, don't bother. I came up floundering and gasping for air, Don was further in, the worst thing was the vision of our boat with its bow protruding from the wave and going down backwards. All is well at this stage, I have got floatation. Don is swimming for shore and then the boat can clearly be seen way inside the break with Brian and the other two crew STILL IN THE BOAT!
Beginning to swim I make some headway until about 50 /60 yards from shore then the southerly rip picks me up and sweeps me seaward again, our boat is nearly on the shore and a belt man is seen swimming towards it to secure a line. Going with the flow and returning seaward, I again commence to swim beach wards and this time a belt attached to a life line and leading towards the shore goes floating past, I figure it must be attached to our boat, I reckon they will haul in the line and me with it, so I grab it and wrap it around me.
I was not prepared for what happened next; suddenly I am moving at great speed through the water, I am about 60 yards from the beach and in between gulps of air and being pulled under one could see 3 blokes running up the beach towing my line. You don't know whether to panic or suck in big breaths, it won't be long now. They must have realized they had me on because suddenly every thing slowed down and shore came soon. The other guys were safe and well. OK Don, where ever you are, was there an order to "ABONDEN SHIP" OR WHAT, instead of welcome back Don and Farls all you and I got was "weak buggers, you dogged it". Our boat was split right down the keel. And Don you jumped first.
2008-04-08, BEEN IN CONTACT WITH DON, MY FACTS ARE, WELL, CORRECT.
THE DAY THE DUKES NEPHEW HIT TOWN
Bear with me while we backtrack a little, 1956 johnfarls.com has just got his Bronze Medallion, he has been placed in a Surf Patrol and soon after is on duty, must add; 18 years with a small break I sat on patrol, made Patrol Captain too.
The first day on patrol, the sea is humungous, Avalon Beach is 500 / 600 yards wide, I use Imperial ‘cause metric isn't in yet, the waves are closing the beach out, one set after another. How the duty boat got out had us amazed. But hang on, we are a little ahead of ourselves. The "Yanks are in town", and Avalon is hosting The Avalon Beach International Surf Carnival. They arrived today and showed us their Ockinnue / Malibu Balsa, (fibre glass covered?) boards, their green canvas covered Kayaks / wave ski's and bee's wax, they will demonstrate their surfing skills tomorrow. And already the sea is lifting.
Right now a small demonstration is in order. A couple commence to paddle the kayaks through the waves and are battered, a couple more launch their Malibu's and show what can be done, a couple of right handers and crunch, but boy was it spectacular. The boys are suitably feted that night and bedded down, on the beach, anywhere, and mentally prepare for tomorrow.
The big day has arrived, and it was big. For the life of me I can't remember the other clubs who were involved, the duty boat is out the back and that's where they are staying, just remembered, my first job was in the belt with other belt men set up as well, permanently, in the area around 50 yards north of the club and adjacent to fairly good rip. As the boat heats commenced and the un-daunted crews began to row their way across the sand bar and the broken water, they then had this wall of water to contend with, not many if any were successful. The boat and crews were suffering a horrendous attrition rate, and being busted also. As the disabled boats floated into the deeper water or were helpless on the sandbar we would proceed to their aid and attach a line to their boats and have them hauled to the beach. I don't remember any serious injuries.
When the water craft and the Malibus were contesting the same result, their green kayaks suffered complete disaster, while our board paddlers may have had limited success, the Malibu boys carved, a great sight, although, only short rides before whack!. The swimming events had a little more success and several competitors' rounded the buoys and returned safely. But there is a story concerning one of our guests, you see he made it out the back but refused unequivocally to return back through the bloody big waves, he sought refuge and remained in the boat until the end of the carnival. The wave the duty boat caught later was the bitter end for this intrepid American, and he was seen disappearing in the direction of the boys room a gibbering mess, or so the story goes. As you are aware I am prone to embellish, this story however has the basis of truth, maybe Maxie Watt, there I have said his name will bear witness. G'day Max remember the ply hand boards, sheets of ply with towel racks for handles, awful feeling when the "bell rings" and you are posted out the back on an overcast day.
Taking a break from things Surf Club, I don't know what real writers and authors call it, and I am neither, BUT HOW DO YOU DO TWO THINGS AT ONCE, but I shall return from MANY JOBS MANY SKILLS.
Friday, October 19, 2007. Had to return to Avalon, too many memories have returned, so I am seeking your indulgence again.
BUMMIN' AROUND
Haven't stuck to chrono time but there you go, so, boats and associated things the memories are there. I love boats and all things water. Who can forget the rowing eruptions on your bottom, and girls you can close your ears now. You used to take precautions, Rick THE sweep, you may pass this information on to your Girl Rowers. The typical surf boat apparel back then was footie shorts with the pads removed, your wore them over your "Budgies", a handful of some white substance was liberally applied to your BUTTOKS, APOLOGIES Mr Forrest, CRACKS AND ALL.
THANK YOU NURSE
This served as a combatant to friction and was the forerunner to sliding seats. My secret weapon was, dare I say, a pair of pants normally worn by girls of the opposite sex, nylon of course. These "pants" were kindly donated by a girl associate I knew and she will kill me if I tell you her name. To conclude this story the "pants" were worn near the skin. As a final insult to my masculinity, I remember coming home and chucking my over night bag up the hallway, mum would empty the contents into the washing machine. On one notable occasion some of these "pants" were contained therein. An explanation was requested, "mum, I use them for rowing, I bought them from the "Op shop", mum, "well how come they all have Nurse------- name sewn on them", a little smile was on her face, the game was up, (did she believe my sexuality). Thank you Nurse for considering my anatomy.
Some boaties were brutes of blokes. Me, I was slight and very intellectual and it was with great pride you represented your Surf Club at carnivals and the public love it to this day, if you're got it flaunt it. We went to many venues and wore our funny green and red caps with utmost pride, we knew that when the flag drops the bull stops.
Cresent Head was a place where we represented, Avalon were unlucky, again, but we had the best body surf ever. From the point to the creek, and back out to the point again, on foot, jump in and have another go, just like North Avalon. Now for the enigma of Don.
BOMBHEAD, MANGO AND OTHER THINGS
He was given his Nome de plume by Brian, his name was Sheehan, Brian was my hero and a very good bloke, his humor was / could be cutting. If you couldn't handle it, tough, a story should be written about this man and many others in Avalon SLSC. Tathra is on the far south coast of NSW, please see page BORN IN THE BUSH 2. I THINK IT WAS THE State Titles.
Brian told the best joke ever, any body remember MERKIN?
We towed the boat, we visited Grandma Snowdon and we participated in the competitions. The boat crew launched the boat under the guidance of Brian, (Sheehan), we retrieved the boat under, cranky, Brian, (Sheehan). WE were not beaten yet. Me, I had entered the Musical flags, Don and Doug? Had entered the Pillow Fight. The heats in the flags was my highlight, we sorted our positions and commenced to lie upon the sand, this dude seemed to want my presence, I am not gay would it matter? He props down beside me and we wait. You flag people will know that an increditable amount of adrenaline and anticipation trauma builds up in your body, you wait not knowing how your reflexes will work, your intire being is compromised. Have you done your homework, is he / she right left handed, does he / she run high or low, will you use elbows, relax and wait the opposition has the same emotions, trust your judgment and think, "I will give it my best shot and bugger you", and then enjoy the conflict.
Well, the gun goes, your up and running, the dude beside you seems to run at great speed to a piece of plastic two places to his right, this leaves me a clear run to the flag that was dead in front of him. I score! and progress to the next heat. The next heat will place me in the finals, if I get a plastic pipe. Same preparation and same result, this dude etc. The second heat, we do it all over again, at no time do I take into consideration this guys speed. Thinking back he was so fast and always left a flag for boofhead. Meanwhile, I am one move from making the final. Down we go, and guess what? There's me mate, gun goes, the flag right under my nose is gobbled up by Bobby-------, he wins the State Titles.
Well again, the boys have waited politely, that it for Avalon, glorious in defeat we all proceed to the Tathra Pub and imbibe, that is until somebody comments, "where's Mitchell", somebody comments, "who cares", and somebody comments, "some bloke from your club has won the pillow fight". Brian Sheehan is gob smacked, "we came all this bloody way for a good time, we half expected to lose, and then "birds nest head" goes and wins something, just wait, the idiot has stuffed our weekend", the man's the State Pillow Fight Champion. These recounts of Tathra may be challenged, as may be other recollections, Geoff Searl help me out.
LET'S SEE, 'BOMBHEAD, BIRDS NEST HEAD, MANGO', are you with us Don Mitchell.
Anybody tried to write an Autobiography, one has this awful thought of you not being accurate and correct and still you may be stretching things.
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