The Bay

by Di Morrissey

  ‘Tell me about the whaling,’ Eddie asked, to change the subject.

  ‘You’ve never smelled anything like it,’ he said. ‘By God, it was a stench. A lot of the men who worked at the whaling station never really got rid of the stink. Didn’t help marital relations,’ he said grinning. ‘You always knew when one of the local girls for hire had been with a bloke from the whaling station.’ Eddie smiled and Sid gave a bit of a wink.

  ‘So you were the local meat inspector?’

  ‘That’s right. I was also hired to be the whaling inspector. Whaling had stopped before the war and was just getting going again in 1946.’

  ‘What did you do?’

  ‘I had to measure the whale, check it wasn’t undersize, or milk filled or pregnant. I had to write a lot of reports along with the gunner’s report about the actual kill.’

  ‘What were the whales used for? I thought once petroleum and electricity came along, that wiped out the need for the oil.’

  ‘The oil – it smelled like cod liver oil – was in demand for food products in Europe after the war so it was sent by road tanker to Brisbane and shipped to England. It was also used in all sorts of things like processed stock feed. The meat was used in pet food. Some was sold to fishermen on the coast here as bait for traps. I even had an American come out wanting to buy the whale meat to feed minks on big mink farms.’

  ‘Uh, oh,’ exclaimed Eddie. ‘Killing whales to feed minks for fur coats! The animal libbers wouldn’t like that.’

  ‘People weren’t so fussy back then.’

  ‘Was there a lot of interest around the town when whales were caught?’

  ‘When a whale was pulled up on the jetty onto the railway flat top and a small engine – we called it the green frog – hauled it to the station, it was like centre court at Wimbledon,’ declared Sid. ‘In those days no one thought about saving the whales. Not until the damage was done.’

  ‘I guess they had no idea what they were doing. Killed off their one industry, eh,’ Eddie remarked.

  Sid picked up an album from the small table beside him and pulled out a newspaper clipping. ‘This only came to light a few years go. The International Whaling Commission had very strict regulations and yet listen to this Herald article I kept.’ He adjusted his glasses and read, ‘Files kept secret for many years have revealed that the Soviet Union systematically slaughtered a large part of the world’s protected whale population, selling some valuable meat to Japan.’ He lifted a finger for added emphasis, ‘Long buried documents show that the Soviet Ministry of Fisheries, in a military-style operation lasting forty years, deceived the commission about the number of whales it slaughtered.’

  ‘God, by how many?’ asked Eddie.

  ‘By thousands.’ Sid continued to read, ‘As a result of the plunder, the humpback whale herd around New Zealand and Australia was exterminated by 1966. Six years later, the sei whale herds in the Indian Ocean were destroyed, and by 1975 the sperm whales north of Hawaii had all but vanished.’

  He put down the clipping. ‘Bloody criminal. As bad as the Japanese today,’ said Sid, unselfconscious at his change in attitude towards his one-time profession.

  Eddie was hooked by Sid’s strong, clear voice. He looked good too, probably be even better on the screen. He briefly explained to Sid what he was trying to do with the documentary and was comfortable about asking him to play a role, convinced that inside the old man was a performer just waiting for the right stage. ‘Why don’t you take me and my camera on a tour of The Bay and talk about how it used to be?’

  ‘Ah, no one is interested in the ramblings of an old geezer like me,’ he said modestly. But Eddie could see he was flattered.

  ‘Let’s go back to the old whaling station and you can describe what it was like. We can use the photographs that are around, including yours.’

  ‘I’ll think about it, young fella. Let me think about it. Might be orright.’ He smiled, and Eddie knew he had the old man on board. ‘But there’s nothin’ up the beach now, you know that. Mighty Beach is nothin’ but a beach now.’

  ‘All the dunes and the bush belong to the council, don’t they?’ said Eddie.

  ‘Little bit where the parking lot is, but the rest is privately owned. Used to be the whaling station property. Americans owned it, until it went bust. Dunno who has it nowadays. Worth a bloody fortune, I’d say.’

  Kimberley arrived at The Teepee in a linen dress, carefully applied make-up and yellow sandals with small kitten heels. Billy reacted by covering his eyes as if hit by a blinding light. ‘Who is this vision of loveliness?’

  ‘Come off it. I need my hair trimmed and could you blow it for me so it looks, you know, together.’

  He flourished the plastic cape like a bullfighter as she settled in the chair, then swept it around her. ‘Big date? Meeting with the school principal?’

  She looked smug. ‘None of the above. Try job interview. Final call back. Been through two interviews already.’

  ‘Kim! Brilliant! Doing what? Hell, it doesn’t matter. Hey, was it because of what I said the other week?’

  ‘Yes. You sort of tipped me over the edge. I was feeling so low and useless, then after Erica I felt I had to pull myself together.’

  ‘I meant to say, what you said at the funeral – really powerful, Kim. Made me think, I can tell you.’

  Kimberley flushed but looked pleased. ‘I didn’t think I could say two words in public, and especially feeling so upset.’

  ‘So what’s the job?’

  ‘I haven’t actually got it yet. You know it’s strange when you put something out into the universe what happens. The minute I decided I wanted to get a proper job, do something – bingo! Things fell in my path.’

  ‘Like?’ persisted Billy.

  ‘Working in the council. Some fancy title like Community Liaison Assistant, but really, it’s just a jumped-up dogsbody. I’m helping all the councillors who are out and about, answering the phone, taking messages, listening to people’s complaints. I have to do a weekly report on community concerns for the councillors to pass on for action. Also write a newspaper column based on what’s getting people talking to each other and to the councillors. The column will run in the council’s weekly advertisement. I’m no threat to Stolle,’ she laughed. ‘He fancies breaking the country’s biggest scoop in his column one day.’

  Billy nodded his head approvingly and rested his hands on her shoulders. ‘I’m knocked out. It’s fan-bloody-tastic. And so quick. You’re really an action girl when you put your mind to it.’

  ‘We’ll see how it works out,’ she said hesitatingly. ‘I’ve started a crash course on computer skills.’

  ‘Bravo. But how are you going to cope with such opposites as Jimmy Bright and Tricia Rich? She’s a greenie and he’s pro-development. He voted for the new arcade and road bridge of shops and is behind the eco-hamlet down by the lily ponds.’

  ‘Eco-hamlet my foot,’ said Kimberley. ‘Read housing estate!’

  ‘You’re going to have to hone your diplomatic skills. How can you work for two people who loathe each other that much? And there are a lot of tensions among the other councillors, and the staff. A regular hothouse of intrigue.’

  ‘Maybe that’s why I’m there. To help build bridges. They can talk through me instead of yelling at each other. It’s going to be interesting – if I get it,’ she added.

  ‘You’ll get it. You look professional, personable, you’re a local, you’re committed to the town. It’s a cinch. What’s Matty think?’

  ‘She’s thrilled. She was a bit impressed I’d got my act together, as she put it. It’s only a few hours a day, but enough to get off welfare.’

  He finished blow-drying her hair, flicked the cape and helped her out of the chair. ‘Go get ’em, gal.’

  It was late afternoon. Shadows stretched and the waters of the bay were calm, reflecting small clusters of clouds in the softening sunlight. Holly, Marcus and Curly walked slowly along Mighty Beach enjoyin
g being by themselves for the first time since she moved north. They walked in silence for a while, taking in the tranquillity of the long beach and the music of the surf.

  ‘Are you and Mel enjoying it up here?’ Holly asked, breaking into their thoughts.

  ‘Ten out of ten. A totally cool place,’ he laughed. ‘Never thought we’d have a place up here.’

  Holly smiled. ‘I like it too, but Melanie thinks I should sell up as soon as Richmond House is renovated.’ She glanced at her tall son beside her, waiting for his opinion.

  ‘Mmm, it makes sense. But you have to have a successful business going to get your money back. The idea is to establish a trendy B & B, you’re not just doing renovations, right?’

  ‘That’s the plot. It means a longer investment of money and time.’

  ‘And you don’t mind that?’ He picked up a stick and tossed it for Curly.

  ‘Like you said, this is one of the top spots in the country. I think my place will do very well.’

  ‘So just how long do you see yourself staying here?’ he asked. ‘What does Dad think? It’s the first time you’ve been separated for so long. Are things . . . okay between you?’ he asked gingerly. He’d never talked so intimately with his mother before.

  Holly squeezed his arm. ‘Everything is fine. Funnily, better than it’s ever been. I think I needed this time alone. All the years I spent being a wife and mum, when I look back now it was a bit like being a mother hen and suddenly I was facing the prospect of becoming an old chook. I mean, I don’t regret a minute of it and I hope you guys think I did a good job.’

  ‘What do you mean, an old chook? You’re no boiler, Mum. You’re looking the best I’ve seen you in years, and I notice you’re causing a few heads to turn at the beach.’

  ‘Thanks. Mums need that sort of compliment. It’s hard to explain, but it was like all my feathers were being pulled out.’

  ‘You had bald patches in your protective pelt?’

  ‘Exactly. I needed time to repair myself, find the missing bits. Find out who I was.’

  ‘So you’re finding yourself up here in The Bay?’ Marcus was struggling to keep the cynicism out of his voice. This didn’t sound like his Mosman mother.

  ‘Now don’t give me a hard time like Mel did. I’m not abandoning you. Or your father. He’s involved in a huge new project; that’s his feathering, his fulfilment –’

  ‘Do you know much about it?’

  ‘Not much. Frankly, I’ve been so busy with my own project I haven’t been following his life too closely,’ she said with some satisfaction. For once she wasn’t playing second fiddle to Andrew and she hoped her kids were impressed with what she was doing. ‘I was hoping you guys would be happy I’m leading my own life.’

  ‘Oh, yeah. It’s great. It’s just not how we’ve always seen you.’

  ‘You know the essential things never change,’ said Holly with a rush of affection. ‘The fact I love you, I’m here for you, no matter what.’

  Curly trotted back with the stick and dropped it at Marcus’s feet as if it was something he’d forgotten on the sand. She made no bouncing effort to indicate she’d love him to throw it again, feigning nonchalance as she walked at heel. ‘She’s dying for you to throw it again,’ said Holly. ‘The attitude is part of the game.’

  Marcus laughed with her and tossed the stick to the edge of the wet sand. ‘Mum, seeing as we’re talking about, well, dreams, aspirations, new lives –’

  ‘My God, don’t tell me you want to get married or something!’

  ‘No, calm down. It’s the same old passion. The internet business idea. It’s a dead-set winner but I need money. I have all the details, business and financial proposals, backers who’ll come in with advertisers.’

  ‘How much money?’ asked Holly cautiously.

  ‘Quite a lot. It’s setting up the office support that is expensive. Keeping that running until the cash flow reaches a certain level is what I’m trying to secure. Maybe you’d like to look at the whole business plan. I brought it up with me, just in case.’

  Holly was surprised and flattered. ‘You mean I’m being treated as a businesswoman and not just Mum who’s a soft touch?’

  ‘I never thought that. I wouldn’t ask you for several thousand dollars without some sort of security.’

  ‘That much? Mmm, that could be tricky,’ said Holly.

  ‘Look, forget it. Don’t worry about it. I’d ask Dad but you know how he is. He just wants me to finish uni, then get into the real game. Something hot, like waste management.’

  ‘That’s not unreasonable. And it’s only a year away.’

  ‘I know, but opportunities like this are only there for a short time.’

  ‘Yes,’ said Holly. ‘A lot of people who launched dotcom companies over the last couple of years also only lasted a short time.’

  ‘It was an inevitable shake out, Mum. We’ve learned a lot and can see the way to go forward more clearly now. We know this idea will work. I have pretty influential people interested in getting involved.’

  ‘So why don’t they put up the seed money?’

  ‘They will, I’m sure, but I have to bring something to the table, show them I’m serious.’

  ‘Let me see your business plan,’ said Holly, wondering how on earth she’d find the money when she’d put everything of her own into Richmond House.

  That evening over a bottle of wine Marcus went through his proposal for a graphic art service on the internet using a smart new software program he had developed. He ran through the people involved, the short and long term turnover projections.

  ‘I have to say it all looks impressive. But any business is a risk, as your father says.’ Marcus waited and Holly gave him a small smile. ‘As an investor do I get shares?’

  He grabbed her hand. ‘Then you’ll do it? That’s great, Mum. We’ll put you on the board!’

  Holly was elated to see the light in her son’s eyes. While she understood the basics of his web business concept, she had no idea whether or not it would succeed. But she wanted to give him the opportunity to have a go at his dream. Like she was doing.

  Beacon Bay, May 10th, 1901

  How I enjoy living here. Such a grand day yesterday. We took the two boys into town in the sulky for the Federation festivities, which culminated in the switching on of the light of our brand new lighthouse. It is an elegant structure, freshly painted white, gleaming brass and polished wood. A new gold coin was buried in the sandstone base for good luck. The rough old stone beacon – soon to be pulled down – looks most insignificant beside it. However the beacon has served its purpose for many years as a signal to sailors and whalers.

  The Aboriginal people, many full bloods whom we rarely see in the district, along with the mixed races here performed a beautiful ceremony.

  But to begin the day’s proceedings.

  Along the promenade – as we call Beach Street, the sandy road along the beachfront – there were flags and banners and many people strolling in whatever finery one possesses in this place. Quite a few had travelled by steamer up the coast and rivers, others had come by the train.

  At Arabella Street, where the Jetty Hostelry and Wright’s General Store sit on opposite corners, a huge archway stretched over the road. It was made from young saplings and wire and decorated with flowers, native greenery and displays of locally grown produce including the new crop of sugarcane. Many archways through the town were decorated with our coat of arms and appropriate expressions of our new status as one country. The bandstand was similarly bedecked with flags and the musicians played well. But when it came time for the official party to arrive, Mr Blanchard, the town clerk, appeared on the platform to announce that they had been delayed at the Honeysuckle Creek crossing due to minor flooding and the absence of the punt. However, he declared that proceedings would commence as planned, seeing the ladies of the town had prepared delicacies too good to let spoil. At this there was a hearty cheer and the band struck up a jolly tune.
Later in the day an ox was roasted and kegs of ale tapped for the men.

  The boys had a ride along the beach on a camel led by one of the Hindoo workers from the market gardens, followed by a ride in the little train that carries goods from the sheds lining the jetty to the vessels. So many ships of all description were crowded into the bay, many of them gaily decorated to make the whole scene most festive. The weather could not have been kinder. Sunny, a slight breeze to cool us and the great blue sky as clear and bright as you could wish. The sea sparkled like a crown jewel, the waves long and gentle, and when several dolphins appeared, cavorting through the breakers, there was much excitement as it was considered an excellent omen.

  There was a great picnic on the racecourse – a rather poor excuse for such a title but it serves its purpose – and children with their fathers competed in sporting events for prizes. These were modest but by the fierceness of the competition one would have thought they were competing for nuggets of gold!

  Speaking of which, there has been much talk of the possibility of goldfields being opened up in the ranges of Mount Hazard. A French geologist has been exploring the ridges and taken away samples. And there have been gentlemen of quality visiting the town staying at the Jetty Hotel who say they are investigating new opportunities in ‘the paradise of the Richmond’.

  This has not been received well among the populace, the common feeling being that if there are riches to be found in the district, the local people will do the finding and reap the rewards. Lars explained to me, as best he understood it, that Mount Hazard and the ridges around it are the remains of an ancient volcano and the valleys formed by the flow of lava from its peak.

  Goodness knows what minerals or makings of our planet have been thrown out by the eruptions. It is not easy to know what truth there is in all this talk and what it might mean for the future of our town. There, I have written it: our town. I do so truly feel I belong here. I dread the day Lars might want to return to his frosty homeland, but sad as it is I take some comfort in the knowledge that he still has not shown any desire to reunite with his far-off family. He was much moved, as were we all, by the visit of Captain Richmond and his praise of the contribution Lars has made to the efficiency of the station and the success of the whale catch. The bonus presented to Lars in the form of shares in the company is greatly appreciated.