AVALON SURF CLUB 4. Some recollections will be like, extra-curricular, they include my old mates, some are all Surf Club. LUNA PARK, THE FOOTBALL, THE CRAWL, THE 21st. 10/29/2007 3:35:21 PM, must stop, log out and wait for the Boss to call. The radar indicates another violent storm about to hit Ballina. May head our way, see you soon. As somebody once said; "nature won't forget you, why have wars?". To all the people in California we are sorry for your terrible plight.  Back again, waiting, waiting. LUNA PARK, NOT FOR FUN. Lots of kids have been to Luna Park in Sydney. Some big Avalon kids have been too, hitch hiking. Don't remember who, but we set of from Avalon and somehow found ourselves at Mona Vale with the thumbs out. A young bloke in some European car pulls up and offers the (5) of us a lift, car is four seater but six of us are jammed in somehow. Well normally you travel through Collaroy, over the Spit and into Nth Sydney and Luna Park, but not this bloke. He does a right hander in Mona Vale Road saying he has to go home first, might have been St Ives. This is where to fun started. Speed signs are just that, this bloke ignored every one and probably hit half of them. His intention was clear; put the wind up his new friends and show off his Foreign car. We flew to his place, we went like the clappers from there to Luna Park. We were shattered and fell out of the car with him saying I can come and get you later, noooooo buddy we will be right. The roller coaster was an anti-climax, we caught the bus home. Rarely thumbed a lift after that. THE FOOTBALL. After that little rumination, football was our other love, surf club aside. Many enjoyable, more sedate trips were taken to watch the football at the Sports Ground. A typical day started by catching the bus to Manly, riding on the Manly Ferry to Circular Quay and catching the tram or bus to Paddington. We would have a beer at some well known pub, that's why I can't remember it, and walk to the famous ‘Hill" entrance to watch the fights, sorry football. You would have a great day on the "Hill", the repartee was in creditable, the beer flowed and as the games progressed a pecking order of team supporters would get increasingly heated. Hang on, we have come to watch our hero's play, these people were a diversion. Most of us were Manly supporters, although I say this more in hope than in fact. I was torn between Manly and South Sydney. Game over, the referee won again. We make our way through the hundreds of fans and some time late evening arrive back at Avalon, or, The Arms. THE CRAWL. What ever possessed them, what ever made them decide to have a ‘Pub Crawl' to Ulladullah and the Marlin Hotel, and why did I decide to join in. You will notice very few names are being bandied about now. Although there were several good drinkers in the club I was a moderate, Marsala Al Ouvo and a nice wine was the go. So no names no pack drill. God knows how many pubs and how many beers did "they" drink, somebody who could speak said 35. We arrived at the Marlin and "they" had some more. Enough is enough we went down to Mollymook Beach and found accommodation, on the sand in a small shelter, where ever. Next morning in dribs and drabs we all had a swimmy and cleared the ‘cobwebs'. A gentleman approached us to strike up a conversation. Big problem, somebody exclaimed, "no, it's the main man be on our best behavior", I have to mention your name Michael you knew who he was!! THE 21st. Most certainly this chronicle will contain no names. One of our boys was about to turn 21 so we decided to shout him a night out in town. We all met at a certain Pub in Sussex Street, enjoyed the Jazz Band and a Silverside and Horse radish sauce roll. We then meandered to another famous hotel not far from where I lived, ring a "bell'?. The object of the nights activities was to eventually end up at a night club at the Cross. So a couple of beers here and tickets in the "raffle', now that was our first mistake. A lady had been selling the tickets and when the winner was announced it was one of us, you beauty. What's the prize?, "Me" said this somewhat attractive but painted lady, "out the back". We bolted for the door passing in the prize. Parking the cars not far from Grand Ma's house we decided to walk to the cross via an area also familiar to me, a somewhat shady place for a look at the circus, just crusin' not buying. Seven young inquisitive men were line astern down a laneway with a name reminiscent to the name of a church, then things went pear shape. There is loud commotion ahead, me and my mate are dragging the chain, we are at the end of the group. Get, well me, get-------. We race down the laneway to see the end of a fracas that includes our mates and some gentlemen in colored shirts and casual pants and white shoes. We race in to assist the boys, Bobby goes down, oops, and I am greeted in the same fashion. We get to our feet and want some more, we are warned to desist or you will end up in jail. We want more, but we hear and watch some disagreeable things starting to unfold. Most of the boys have been hand cuffed and one of the boys yells "get out of here and call Uncle Frank". We inquire where they taking our mates, answer ‘Darlo". A phone call is made to ‘Uncle Frank", we wait at the station for his arrival. In comes ‘Uncle Frank" to be greeted by the duty person, "g'day Mister---------, how can we help you". The very distinguished man is dressed in silk pajamas' and an evening robe, his slippers are footwear from a fashion shop. "Where's my nephew", the duty persons draw drops. Formally the boys are charged with every thing from sodomy to arson, forgive the choice of words, "you will appear at the Court Of Petty Sessions to answer these charges". Uncle Frank insists that mention of Bobbie and my self's name be entered into the charge sheet. We all leave and we do not go to the Cross. Nothing will be gained from the accusations against the officers, although ranks closed. They were acting under orders. The boys are compromised, they appear to answer charges and a 10 pound fine is set, this presents many problems, not the least being finger printed, no meaningful jobs in the Public Sector etc. All plead not guilty, the accusations will be contested in the Supreme Court with some very ‘heavy' people acting on our behalf. Incidentally, many ladies of the night also appear, pay the 10 pound fine and return to ‘work'. All comes to an equitable conclusion, f / prints are destroyed. While this story can corroborated and proven to be true, also the transcripts of Court Proceedings are in the public domain, the following little snippet is possibly true; Bobby and I are sitting in the corridor, a very distinguished man in a black robe and wig approaches, another man of similar appearance approaches, he is the Judge. As they pass one man he acknowledges the other; "good day Bluey", a suitable reply of; "how's it go' in shagger, they are human. The memoirs have wandered about somewhat, I am writing them as they come to mind, if that's ok. PEARLY TEETH AND OTHER SHARKS. The secret, pushed to the back of the mind, and sometimes ignored thoughts about sharks. Ever since the introduction of shark meshing the beaches of Sydney has protected us from these wonderfull animals, they are out there never the less. Mention was made of the peculiar habit of using the vernacular; "the bell's rang". This occurs, generally, during overcast conditions. A bunch of body surfers will be ‘out the back' all vying for a wave. At some stage, and when every one is ready to return to shore, someone will say "the bell's rung". (Normally they will do this as they are catching a wave). This means one of three things; you catch the next wave, you are swimming for the last wave, or, you are the returning from catching a wave. The latter is the worst case scenario. You see all of your ‘mates' passing you on their way in, you are now by your self and awaiting their return. As they are walking up the beach a dreadful concept enters your mind, "God I ‘am posted". So as not show fear you slowly swim backwards, they will not realize your trepidation, they will think you are getting into a better position for the next wave. You will catch a broken wave, you will do everything to reach the shore in semi-dignified fashion, and your only thoughts are on survival and saving face, YOU CRASH face down on the sand. You wait you barstards my turn will come. Want a crappy poem? check out OLD WALL EYE in the "Bushy Poem" section.  PIGSHEAD. This recollection, or at least the story is true, is certainly true. However, for the life of me was I there? There was a member called "Pigshead", was he named after the bait used to catch a rather large marine predator off Avalon Beach. If I were not present may I relate a story, a story that will exemplify the difference between fact and factual. This monster was seen cruising along the gutter, which is between the beach and the sand bar. The shark bell is rung, in groups of three? Incessantly. The bathing public are herded from the water, the surf boat is launched and the crew row to a close proximity to the marauder, the shark is ‘escorted' seawards and disappears over the horizon, or does it? Somebody devises a plan to catch the animal and the conversation must go like this; "Lets get a chunk of bait and a big hook, we'll attach a length of surf line and use some petrol drums for floats", heads are nodded, "If we get some bullocks' blood and set the line we'll pour the blood into the water to attract the shark". The question is will they catch the ‘guilty shark', is there a guilty shark. The bait was a Pigshead. Their plan works, was it that day, was it days later. The description of proceedings leading up to its capture is irrelevant, what transpires will be to transport the stricken shark to the old club house and charge 6 pence a look at the Bronze Whaler. The conclusion to this story is rapid. Very quickly the carcass begins a process of decomposition, you will not get closer than 100 yards within 2 days, the club reeked for weeks. And that friends is poetic justice. IT'S THE ONE YOU DON'T SEE. Untill I took up fishing professionally I had only once seen a shark in the open water. Well ok, the occasional Wobbagong or Shovel Nose, I used to snorkel off the rocks at Nth Avalon or around past the pool, always conscious of something coming out of the deep. So I relate an account of what could have been. For a couple of years we would house our Surf Boat at the 16 foot sailing club at the Spit in Middle Harbour. A few of the boys lived south side and the remainder lived around Avalon, and we would train midweek. Our training course would take us to the Sydney Heads, Manly Wharf and back to The Spit. Obviously we had to negotiate the shipping lanes as Ferries and sometimes serious boats made way to and fro into Sydney Harbour. Brian Sproule was our sweep, Big Brian had retired. Frequently we would catch waves inside South Head, adjacent to HMAS Watson we caught waves at the northern entrance to Middle Harbour, and we pushed hard. I really don't want to relate some tragic history, but The Middle Harbour has seen some heartbreaking occurrences. Details can't be described; regrettably people have lost their lives in this locality. Suffice to say, the very large female Bronze Whalers travel through the Middle Harbour and upstream to have their pups. My description can be disputed, maybe they are Bull Sharks. I can relate a personal experience of my first sighting of a big shark. Gaining work with a Company upstream from the Spit, the Roseville Bridge area, we were moving the sand plant of my poor country cousins, Farley and Lewers upstream. A pumping dredge was moored in the river attached by the pumping pipes supported by buoys to the shore, you could access the dredge by walking along the sand pipes, carefully. On the day of my first encounter we were on the dredge doing some maintenance, this enormous brown shape has surfaced yards from the vessel, it was over twice my height in length and the fin had to be 2 feet tall. Walking back to shore along the sand pipes was the longest walk of all, carefully. All off the foregoing will demonstrate my foreboding, grammar Farley? We launch the boat one day and proceed on our training mission, I must have been up the front of the boat, bow. We are not far from the scene of an awful incident and the boys decide to upend Sprouley from the boat. They use his sweep oar as a lever and push him into the water. Here is my friend floundering and trying to climb over the gunwale and I am freaking out the humour has completely escaped me, my reactions were based on everything I have related. He climbs into the boat and seems to take it in his stride. All the time thinking of what may of happened, to this day I see this experience so vividly, the one your don't see, to this day I cannot tolerate fools. We had an experience off the North Point one day. Tragically a rescue / recovery was in progress, we were in the surf boat assisting some swimmers with a casualty, when a shark is sighted very close by. The boat can carry only so many people, the rest were shunted to the rocks while we carried out our duties. SOME REMINISANCES ON OTHER SEA STUFF. Lets get off sharks and talk about the sea life they like to feed off. I've related the "chicken giblet saga", so you can digest that while I prepare you for "fishen adventures". GOO GOO EYES. Adrian and I liked our fishing, we would frequently cart our gear to the ‘gutter' and near by. This area is south, around towards Bilgola. A splendid slopping rock allows you to fish seaward and has protection from the rouge wave that will invariably pop up. We probably had our share of luck, although the painted Leather Jacket will need to be evaded. The hallucinogenic properties in its flesh will give you the most colorful dreams. Social drugs aside, "if you want a journey eat a Jacket". Undoubtedly the highlight of our experiences was the encounter with a Sun Fish. They are unique marine creatures, and will grow to, well, big. They appear to have been born without a tail, obviously they drift rather than swim fast. Adrian goes "have a look at that thing", the thing is mainly on its side with the biggest ‘eye' giving us the once over, and its only a matter of yards from the rocks. We can then make out its great bulk, it seems to hover for a short time then rolls in the water and this dorsal fin stands a yard high, its all greenie brown, the eye was Latin and beautiful. Slowly the animal swims by us and moves into deeper water, we were besotted. AUB AND THE MARSALA. Aub and me had been to a party, a great time and ‘nice girl quite night' was had by all, we had taken a bottle each of an Italian wine known as Marsala Al Ouvo, its fortified and has eggs dissolved in it. The around the world on a bob expression comes to mind. Like Aub Shanks, it had a reddish glow about it. Now the sun is just coming up and we are sitting on the ramp partaking of the last few drops from our bottles and Aub suggests we go fishing. Back then a couple of small dingys were hauled up on the beach at the northern end of the beach, we decided to get our lines and some meat from the kitchen and go fishing of the north point. I cant remember whether we went fishing, we made it out past the point or what. But at some stage about half way out Aub decides to "call for ernie', he suggests using the bailing bucket. My first reaction was to tell him to "call over the side", he suggests that this is un-hygienic. Again I suggest that, ‘its where it will end up', he will not relent and proceeds to "up and under' in the bucket right under my nose. My reaction follows his reaction, the contents from all parties will end up in the ocean, the rivers run red. A consensus is reached regards fishing I am certain it didn't happen, and mores' the shame, there was ample burley.

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