ON CANE COCKIES
used to have the old Dunlops Hotel in Mareeba, back in the day when Mareeba was a bare-knuckle ringers’ town. Ringers like Mongrel Moon, Normie Rand and the Black Poll would come in from the stations at the end of the season and blow their cheques at Fay’s pub. They’d fight, get in the “horrors”, and after 12hour drinking sessions would “choke down’’ in the toilets or in the bar.
Mongrel Moon choked down on the railroad tracks one night and was killed when run over by a train. His mate the Black Poll was so drunk at the funeral he fell into the grave while helping lower the coffin. They’d smoke in bed and at night instead of going out to the hotel toilets, they’d urinate in the basins in their rooms. They’d fall hopelessly in love with the first barmaid who gave them a smile, showering them with presents and promises of undying loyalty.
Fay tolerated them, humoured them, understood them and made sure they occasionally put some food in their bellies. She knew that a man could not survive on rum, beer, port wine and Log Cabin tobacco alone. This is why she was so well thought of by the hard-living stockmen from the Gulf Country and Cape York Peninsula. They used to say back in those wild old days that the only thing you could get in Mareeba on a Saturday night was a fight, a f--- and a feed. The only thing that mattered was the order in which you wanted them.
They used to tell the story about the ringer who was behaving badly in one of the pubs. A tough-looking bouncer came up and ordered him to leave. The ringer, a renowned fighter, uncoiled himself from where he was sitting, stood up, stared hard at the bouncer and told him:
for Deputy Prime Minister Tim Fischer. They don’t make them like him any more. He was a regular visitor to Townsville and North Queensland. He enjoyed going out into the bush and meeting people. He was loyal to his mates. An officer in the Vietnam War, he never came to Townsville without visiting one of the soldiers who served under him, John “There’s three things I like on a night out.”
“What are they?” asked the bouncer in a voice dripping with malice.
“A fight, a f--- and a feed. I’ve already had a feed so which of the other two do you want,” the 195cm tall ringer said to the bouncer.
The bouncer walked away.
I stress that this was all back in the day. More than 20 years ago. Mareeba has changed so much now from those wild old times. Now there are coffee shops, delis, accountants, solicitors, health food shops, grey nomads and gift stores. A big change from when it was just saddle shops, pubs, hamburger joints and knock shops. The ringers have long gone from the stations. And soon it will have Obi’s. Who would have thought the old ringer’s town could become so gentrified so quickly.
Shagadelic gathering
Patrick “Paddy” Hansen. Paddy became an alcoholic after the war and helped out at the Bellevue Hotel in South Townsville where he was looked after at the time by the pub’s owners, Marshall and the late Christine Colwell. Later, Paddy moved to the Greenvale pub, where publican of the time Sue Corbett took over from Marshall and Christine in looking after Paddy. Mr Fischer always sat down and yarned with Paddy about the war and about life in general. Privately, Mr Fischer described Paddy as one of the bravest men in battle he had ever had the honour to serve alongside. Paddy was one of the happiest blokes you’d ever want to meet. Both soldiers now are gone. RIP THERE’S a shag fest happening at Cape Gloucester between Bowen and Airlie Beach. It’s the annual get together of the Shag Islet Cruising Yacht Club.
Shag Islet is a speck in the Coral Sea just out from the Cape Gloucester Resort. The yacht club came about in 2008 when yachtie and EX-RAAF Wing Commander Ken Thackeray was refused entry into the Royal New Zealand Yacht Squadron in Auckland. He was advised that in order to gain entry he would need to be at least a “flagged officer” in another yacht club. Translated, this meant he would have to have been a Commodore or Vice Commodore to get his deck shoes in the door. The snobby Kiwi yachties obviously don’t like mixing with common seamen. Miffed, our Mr Thackeray returned to Australia
and established the Shag Islet Cruising Yacht Club. Anyone can join for a fee of $65. And all members are given the Membership Number 10 and the rank of Vice Commodore. Stick that up your brass buttoned reefer jackets, Kiwis.
The SICYC now has 6736 members in 17 countries and since its inception has raised $650,000 for prostate cancer research. Right now there are yachts from all over the world at Cape Gloucester. Townsville bloke Russ Pyers is a
Vice Commodore in the SICYC. He tells me the club’s motto is “exclusively non-exclusive”. Its two aims are to (1) have a good time and (2) raise money for prostate cancer.
They met for the Meet and Greet on Thursday and will party hard while raising money for prostate research until Monday when it is time to weigh anchors.