It was sometime at the end of 2007, things had been pretty good. Steady money had been rolling in all year, actually better then ever before. The future looked bright.. That was until; I realized it was time to move on. Four months I’d been here, one month more then I had originally planned. My contract had lapsed and I was working day to day hoping there will be a seat for tomorrow. It’s the problem talking casual jobs like I had been. There’s that uncertainty about the future, sometimes you wonder if you will find another job, then other times it’s just the unknown that’s so unnerving. Where will I be tomorrow? As unsettling as it may be though, there’s another side to the story, the reason I keep going, the reason I’ll do it again tomorrow. Yes the adventure into the unfathomable unknown. Where could I end up, has my luck run out?
I’m walking around the office oblivious to the pressing amount of work sitting on my desk. I chat casually with the girls around the office.. Some of which I’ve now known for over five years. So much had changed, especially them. Most of them are married now, such an immense contrast to the earlier days pissing it up in the social club bar skinny dipping on the way home. I take a moment to contemplate if they think the same about me. Not really, I decide. As I do my social rounds I find myself talking to a lady about her holidays she just got back from. Darwin she tells me, to visit her Sister. As I listen to her talk about it I feel something inside my mind click. It’s like the old big clock arm, clicking into place. I’m going to Darwin…
You know it’s kind of hard to say I’m brave. There’s nothing brave about it, more just an acute sense of recklessness. I mean what is the worst that can happen? I find myself on a cold Melbourne night stranded hi and dry in the airport terminal? Nothing to wear other then some smelly t-shirts, shorts and my favourite pair of worn in pluggers? The temperature falls to around 10 degree’s somewhere around 3:00 in the morning.. It’s almost comfortable, compared to the night before I think to myself.
Scavenging through the surrounding camp sites, I find shelter under some tarpaulin; it’s reasonably heavy, well heavy enough to keep the dew off my body. I set my bag of possessions up as a pillow and I bury my hands into a jumper some Guy from WEST OZ lent me for the night. Yes, just the night before here I was, cowering under a tarpaulin west of the Hunter Valley in NSW. The fog had set in early and the chill controls the shake of my body, the tightness in my throat. I think about the morning, to see that sun again spread out over the grassland and feel its warmth penetrate my skin. All of a sudden I start laughing, breaking the dead stillness of the night. Why though. Because I know I’m not dead.. Not even close. And as far as I’m concerned, I’m contented. Wait till I tell the boy’s..
It’s not all like this. I arrived in Darwin to the comfort of a pretty lush apartment. A friend of mine had been living up here awhile. Originally the plan was for me to live with him as well when he moved up here. I wasn’t ready though, and found myself living back in WA just after a week. This time, money didn’t seem to be an issue, so I set about relaxing the best I could. It wasn’t hard, the air conditioning blasting, Enter Shikari playing, while I read books on the cushy leather couch. I might as well have stayed at home to be doing this I muse.
But something was different, something which grew stronger and clearer with every day that passed. I was, for the first time in a long time I was isolated from my distractions. Isolated from the people I loved and the people I loved to hate. Free to think about all the things I wanted to think about, and those I didn’t. It’s a weird feeling, and I wonder if it’s a good for my mind. It’s just different.
A job found me, yes it found me, but only because I wanted to be found. New people to meet, new people to please.. I was only there a week before the first few people left. And by the fisrt month a total of six had already moved on. Did I smell that bad, or is there something underlying that I haven’t noticed yet. It didn’t really matter all that much to me, I had set a date anyway.. In the interview it was for a few years, in my head three months. Drastic difference I know, but I couldn’t bear to contemplate a longer sentence. Three months seems to be that magical number, that magical figure that says; don’t worry. You’ll be out of here before you start. Strangely it’s the same figure an employer will use to grade your performance.
The adventure has begun, and as much as I am happy to sit around home doing nothing, I can’t help be compelled to think about life in this isolation, and what I’ll find..
“Happiness is only real when shared” – Jon Krakauer
Getting out and taking on adventures in this rugged landscape is unavoidable, it has to happen this way otherwise all is lost. But having someone to share it with is much harder. I mingle with those few I have met, I ask around, hoping they have something they can offer me. This isn’t about choice anymore, you go with the flow and just hope that what ever happens is not to unbearable. Something new and exciting might be around the next corner as long as I’m prepared to follow.
I’m walking around the office oblivious to the pressing amount of work sitting on my desk. I chat casually with the girls around the office.. Some of which I’ve now known for over five years. So much had changed, especially them. Most of them are married now, such an immense contrast to the earlier days pissing it up in the social club bar skinny dipping on the way home. I take a moment to contemplate if they think the same about me. Not really, I decide. As I do my social rounds I find myself talking to a lady about her holidays she just got back from. Darwin she tells me, to visit her Sister. As I listen to her talk about it I feel something inside my mind click. It’s like the old big clock arm, clicking into place. I’m going to Darwin…
You know it’s kind of hard to say I’m brave. There’s nothing brave about it, more just an acute sense of recklessness. I mean what is the worst that can happen? I find myself on a cold Melbourne night stranded hi and dry in the airport terminal? Nothing to wear other then some smelly t-shirts, shorts and my favourite pair of worn in pluggers? The temperature falls to around 10 degree’s somewhere around 3:00 in the morning.. It’s almost comfortable, compared to the night before I think to myself.
Scavenging through the surrounding camp sites, I find shelter under some tarpaulin; it’s reasonably heavy, well heavy enough to keep the dew off my body. I set my bag of possessions up as a pillow and I bury my hands into a jumper some Guy from WEST OZ lent me for the night. Yes, just the night before here I was, cowering under a tarpaulin west of the Hunter Valley in NSW. The fog had set in early and the chill controls the shake of my body, the tightness in my throat. I think about the morning, to see that sun again spread out over the grassland and feel its warmth penetrate my skin. All of a sudden I start laughing, breaking the dead stillness of the night. Why though. Because I know I’m not dead.. Not even close. And as far as I’m concerned, I’m contented. Wait till I tell the boy’s..
It’s not all like this. I arrived in Darwin to the comfort of a pretty lush apartment. A friend of mine had been living up here awhile. Originally the plan was for me to live with him as well when he moved up here. I wasn’t ready though, and found myself living back in WA just after a week. This time, money didn’t seem to be an issue, so I set about relaxing the best I could. It wasn’t hard, the air conditioning blasting, Enter Shikari playing, while I read books on the cushy leather couch. I might as well have stayed at home to be doing this I muse.
But something was different, something which grew stronger and clearer with every day that passed. I was, for the first time in a long time I was isolated from my distractions. Isolated from the people I loved and the people I loved to hate. Free to think about all the things I wanted to think about, and those I didn’t. It’s a weird feeling, and I wonder if it’s a good for my mind. It’s just different.
A job found me, yes it found me, but only because I wanted to be found. New people to meet, new people to please.. I was only there a week before the first few people left. And by the fisrt month a total of six had already moved on. Did I smell that bad, or is there something underlying that I haven’t noticed yet. It didn’t really matter all that much to me, I had set a date anyway.. In the interview it was for a few years, in my head three months. Drastic difference I know, but I couldn’t bear to contemplate a longer sentence. Three months seems to be that magical number, that magical figure that says; don’t worry. You’ll be out of here before you start. Strangely it’s the same figure an employer will use to grade your performance.
The adventure has begun, and as much as I am happy to sit around home doing nothing, I can’t help be compelled to think about life in this isolation, and what I’ll find..
“Happiness is only real when shared” – Jon Krakauer
Getting out and taking on adventures in this rugged landscape is unavoidable, it has to happen this way otherwise all is lost. But having someone to share it with is much harder. I mingle with those few I have met, I ask around, hoping they have something they can offer me. This isn’t about choice anymore, you go with the flow and just hope that what ever happens is not to unbearable. Something new and exciting might be around the next corner as long as I’m prepared to follow.
This may have been how I find myself 100km from the nearest town, 20km away from the nearest boat ramp, fishing out of an under equipped and under prepared 12’ dingy off the Adelaide River. I’m reassured all will be good by my under experienced host, but it’s hard not to wonder what might happen. These waters aren’t like back home. You can’t just swim to the shore should something happen. The shore line can’t even be seen under the densest of mangroves and It’s not that bothers me! It’s the Crocodiles that I can’t see in this murky filthy water, but I know they’re there just watching us. We fumble our way around on the limited deck, casting our lures in wayward directions hoping to hook up a monster Barra. Nothing happens, it should have been expected.
Not everything is as cut throat as it may sometimes seem. It was a quite barmy night, the type renowned in the dry season. I find myself walking around the beach front markets, basking in the ambiance that only a small market on a beach can bring to life. The rhythmic beat of the drums and the hollow bellow of the didgeridoo can be heard in the back ground, “its Jabaru” she confirms. The beat is face paced, and it evokes emotion’s which can not be explained, only be felt in this time and in this moment. Many small stalls are setup high in the grass under the shade of the trees. A friendly aroma drifts gently in the soft breeze of the afternoon. We order our meals and head down to the beach. The sand feels warm on our skin, so little to wear up here in this weather. We sit back to enjoy the delights of the local cuisine and what remains of the sun set over the water. The sky is an iridescent pink and it rebounds off the water bringing calmness to the air.
I start to feel strongly about something, anything.. about this place, it’s this moment. Whatever it is, it’s fun, exciting and different. Only thing that could make this any better would be if the other Bush Rat’s were here! But I’m sure this won’t be the last time.
I start to feel strongly about something, anything.. about this place, it’s this moment. Whatever it is, it’s fun, exciting and different. Only thing that could make this any better would be if the other Bush Rat’s were here! But I’m sure this won’t be the last time.
