A Sudden Rise

By Stuart Box

Exhibition budgerigar breeding, like most hobbies, attracts a diverse range of people with differing backgrounds and aspirations. When a little controversy is added to this hot-pot of personalities, the small island community starts to hum with rumour and innuendo. The stakes are raised considerably when a chain of events leads to the involvement of the local police. Despite the speculation, no one anticipated the eventual outcome and lasting legacy it would leave.
Enjoy the journey taken by Constable Robbie Banks and his pro bono team of community characters as he navigates the world of exhibition budgies on his first investigation.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Stuart Box
• Release date: May 12, 2015
• ISBN: 9781310240492

Stuart Box

Twenty-five years is a long time. For Stuart Box, twenty five years working in large multinationals with a lot of time away from home was enough. The big silver busses of the sky lose their appeal after a while, and with two children starting at high school, it was time for change and time to start living. Now as a full time stay-at-home dad / taxi driver and part time investment twiddler, the intensity is definitely still there, but it is a different and very fulfilling intensity. Stuart's broad life experience and his fundamental "have a go" approach to leisure activities results in a unique perspective. It is hoped, that you will find his books interesting as well as practical.

Book preview

A Sudden Rise

By Stuart Box

Copyright 2015 Stuart Box

Smashwords Edition

Smashwords Edition, License Notes

This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to your favourite ebook retailer and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

Table of Contents

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Sixteen

Chapter Seventeen

Chapter Eighteen

Chapter Nineteen

Chapter Twenty

Chapter Twenty One

Chapter Twenty Two

About The Author

Other Titles by Stuart Box

Chapter One

He’d done it! After only five years, Jake Bigman had bred the best bird in show. The trophy was to be his for a year, and he now had the quality of birds to keep it even longer. He was starting to imagine the talk at Blackbeard’s Bar and Bistro where the club members would gather later that evening. Of course, he’d buy a round of drinks for the lesser breeders, and then bathe in their adulation.

Only two years ago, Jake hadn’t even won a ribbon at the annual championships. He’d taken that very hard. Someone of his means and capability, not to mention drive and single mindedness deserved more. His frustration with the events of that day was to set him on the course to victory and he’d achieve it by fair means or foul.

Blackbeard’s was buzzing. There had been just over five hundred birds benched for the championship that day and it had taken quite a bit of packing-up, cleaning up and resettling of the birds back into their various cages and aviaries across the island. Blackbeard’s Bar and Bistro was the local for The Island Budgerigar Breeders Society -TIBBS for short. It had been for many years, and big Steve Douglas the publican was a generous sponsor of the club. As a result of Steve’s generosity, not to mention the cold beer and gourmet pub fare in the bistro, Blackbeard’s would no doubt continue be the local for many years to come.

Jake Bigman had shown 20 birds at the Championship. Other breeders had shown more birds, but still 20 was a lot. Jake was from Summerlands, a small hamlet on the West Coast of the island and the combination of getting all his birds settled at home in his aviaries and the travel time back to Newhaven on the Eastern side where Blackbeard’s was, meant that he was one of the last to arrive. He could hear the hubbub coming from inside Blackbeard’s while he was still out in the parking lot. As he crunched across the gravel to the entry he took a deep breath, fixed his face in a broad but humble smile, and made his entrance.

As one, every eye in the bar turned his way. Some of the faces were smiling, others not. A couple for some reason looked downright angry. The noise had died down when he had entered the bar, but as Jake gave a little wave and strode up to where the committee had perched themselves at a high table, it started up again. A few eyes, the angry ones, followed his every move.

Congratulations Jake, said Percy Jones, the Club President. A fantastic bird and you had a few other goodies in the variety categories too. You must have some good water over in Summerlands I reckon.

Not sure about the water Percy. It’s been some hard work and careful planning over the last few years. Perhaps it’s those bright sunsets over the ocean that plays a part, Jake answered with a smile. I’ll take all the help I can get. The others around the table agreed it took a lot of hard work as well as a little luck to breed a Grand Champion.

After a few minutes of further congratulatory talk, Jake made his way to the bar and rang the big brass bell that was installed above the counter for occasions such as this. Ringing the bell for major achievements was a tradition within TIBBS as well as in most of the other clubs on the island that used Blackbeard’s as a base. As always it was greeted by cheers and applause. Regardless of what anyone thought of Jake, they would never say no to a free beer. The bell ringer took on the responsibility of a round of drinks. It would be an expensive round for Jake; almost everyone from the club was there. It had been quite some time since the bell had seen any action from TIBBS. For the last two years, the breeders of the Grand Champion had forgone the honour as well as the expense. Charlie and Sonja Rumple, last year’s winners, were pensioners. All their money went into the birds, with not a lot left over for beer and this was understood by all. Two years ago it was Mavis Tipnot, notoriously tight with her money and now the Club Treasurer. It was an attribute the club valued in their treasurer and her reticence at the bell was also generally well accepted.

No such qualms for Jake Bigman. Jake was by all accounts a successful businessman. He travelled regularly overseas and was happy for people to know he had some cash to flash about. His spending had caused some dissention in the past; buying expensive birds from elsewhere in the country and reaping the fruits of the other breeders’ efforts on the show bench. Like water off a ducks back for Jake though. He reasoned that anyone could do what he did if they wanted to; it was all a question of priority.

Steve Douglas the publican and his team of Phillip Island locals had finally filled everyone’s glasses. He gave Percy the nod to begin the toast.

Ladies and Gentlemen, said Percy but to no avail. He had not been in good health of late and getting the attention of the crowd in the bar was proving to be beyond him. Steve saw the problem as it happened and gave the bell above the bar a few hearty dongs. The crowd cheered again expecting more beer and when that died down they were loudly set straight by the publican who handed their attention back over to Percy.

Ladies and Gentlemen, he tried again, it is a great honour for me as Club President of The Island Budgerigar Breeders Society to congratulate Jake Bigman for achieving the best bird in show in this years’ Championship event. I would also like to thank Jake on behalf of us all for his generosity tonight and wish him every success in the years to come.

This short speech was just what the patrons were looking for and before Percy could say anything more, someone had yelled out, Three cheers for Jake! and any thoughts of a longer speech was drowned out by the ensuing: Hip hip hoorays!

Jake in his turn was well schooled in reading an audience and knew he had to be brief, thankful and humble. He was used to big business, and addressing this gathering was a no-brainer for him. Thank you all, and thank you Percy for your kind words, he said. I am honoured to be part of such a great club, and thankful that fate has brought together the right strands of DNA in one of my birds this season. I have learnt a lot over the years from the many experienced breeders in the club and I am grateful for all your ready help. Enjoy your beer!

This was greeted by a hearty round of Hear hears, and the members returned to their small groups and took up their conversations where they had left them or started new ones when they couldn’t remember what they’d been talking about. This did tend to happen a bit in The Island Budgerigar Breeders Society. The average age of the membership would be well over 60, and that’s including about 10 juniors who were all under 18. There were certainly some old folks enjoying the hobby.

In general the evening was a fun and happy event, one table however had a few club stalwarts gathered around with their heads close together. They didn’t look at all like they were happy with the outcome of the day’s show, and later the serving girl would recall hearing the words cheat and impossible as she collected the glasses from their table.

Chapter Two

The excitement of the weekend’s championship show was quickly forgotten by most residents of Phillip Island. Even the locals not that interested in birds would make the effort to attend the show each year. It was one of the many annual attractions on the island’s calendar, and being seen to support the local community activities was a part of the social structures that had built up over many years. The annual show was a big fundraiser for the club, with the entry fees collected contributing toward most other activities during the year. Many of the tourists that breezed through the small town of Newhaven on their way to the beaches on the south side of the island would also stop in; attracted by the big sign board by the highway. The sausage sizzle was always a hit with them for a snack after a long drive even if they didn’t get much out of the bird show itself.

Of course, for the members of TIBBS it was a different story. There is more to a Championship Show than just the Champion Bird, and TIBBS recognises a total of 21 varieties of budgerigar. There was a champion of each variety for both cocks and hens and there was also a best pair category where the aim was to have a male and female bird of the same variety similarly coloured and contoured. Then of course there are the runners up and thirds for each category as well as prizes for Beginner, Intermediate, Open and Champion breeders. Almost everyone ended up with some ribbon or another, and reading through the detailed results sheets to see who had success where, would take the members quite some time.

Many of the breeders had sold birds to each other over the years; so in a club such as this, there is a fair chance that some of the successful birds owed their genetics to a number of the different members’ birds. To be eligible for showing, a bird had to be bred by the breeder showing it. Small engraved metal rings issued by the club are placed on the bird’s leg when they are young and cannot be removed. Even before the bird leaves the nest its foot would no longer fit through the ring. The rings have unique numbers on them that the TIBBS Ring Steward records against a breeder’s name. There is no chance of buying a champion bird and becoming an instant winner; you have to put in at least one season in the breeding room and hopefully hatch and rear a beauty.

It was in the breeding room of Alled Russell that he and young Jimmy Squires were chatting about the weekend’s show results over a cup of coffee. Alled was the TIBBS Club Secretary. He had been involved in budgies for years. Recently retired from a job in the local council, Alled had managed to squirrel away enough money over the years to live reasonably comfortably for a man of modest aspirations. He was enjoying being able to put more time into his hobby and was happy to share his experience with Jimmy, a junior in the club. Jimmy visited Alled a few times each week after school and tried to absorb all of the years of experience on offer. They lived only a few streets apart in the town of Cowes on the North side of the island. Cowes was the largest town and was also home to the only high school on the island.

After settling onto their stools by the work bench, Jimmy opened up discussions by observing that since he had been breeding for three years and Jake for only five, then he had two more years until he had a Champion’s Trophy too. It was said with a grin, but he was interested to see what Alled would say.

Well lad, I wish you well but I can’t see that happening, said Alled.

Why not? Jake managed it and he spends half his time overseas. I look after my birds every day. I even got a couple of ribbons in the show this time.

You did do well this year, said Alled, a first and a second place in the Junior Category is no mean feat in this club. Certainly you did a lot better than last year.

"Thanks Alled, yes these are my first ribbons. I have them pinned up in my room. I know my birds are nowhere near what I need to be the ‘best bird in show’, but how did he do it?"

I just don’t know, said Alled. Jake’s bird was so much better than any other in the show. It was almost like looking at a new species. We’re all breeding neanderthals and he has just come across homosapiens.

You’ve got that right Alled, so much bigger and brighter than the rest. It was the best in show, no one argues that. But how...

Well Jimmy, he’s got a lot more money than us, he’s been able to buy some good birds from the mainland. Maybe he just got lucky.

But Alled, Fred Sheen’s got more money than anyone I know and he spends it willingly on his birds. He managed to outbid Jake at last year’s auction and his birds have gone backwards if anything.

Yes, yes Jimmy, we can always find something that goes against the grain. Fred has spent a lot of money, but the birds he buys are from all over the place. There is no common line in his birds that strengthens their type. There are no common grandparents, great grandparents in his aviary. The best breeders develop a line of birds, that’s the way to do it, from the ground up. Maybe not brother and sister pairings, but cousins, skipped generations, that’s all OK.

So Jake Bigman must be buying birds from one or a few of these types of specific breeders, and then he would almost have a readymade line?

Maybe Jimmy. I just don’t know, said Alled.

They continued to chat about the birds as Alled pottered about in his birdroom. Like all hobbies there was always something to be done and Alled was rarely idle. He’d built his birdroom himself and was quite proud of some of the innovations he had incorporated along the way. It was a far cry from the galvanised iron shed he had started with and it was now quite comfortable to spend time in. Before long an hour or more had passed and it was time for Jimmy to return home for dinner. He was fascinated by what he’d learned. He had heard about line breeding before, read books on it, but seeing these two different approaches right here on The Island made it all clear. Just spending money wasn’t enough, the birds had to be good and related. Fred Sheen had shown the folly of random spending. Maybe Jake was being very careful in his purchases. Or maybe he was just lucky. That would have to wait for another day, dinner was calling and after bidding Alled farewell, he jumped on his bike and rode the short distance home.

Alled also was happy to be preparing his own dinner. He enjoyed Jimmy’s company; his visits were a bright spot in his week, but sometimes, like today, the questions just wouldn’t stop. He’d have to find some technique to slow him down. Something to think about, he said to no one in particular as he fired up his BBQ grill.

After dinner, Jimmy hit the books; he had a heap of maths and science homework that was due the next day. He was in year 10, only two more to go after this and he would be finished high school. Jimmy was a good student, always in the top two or three in the class, well behaved but prone to over question his teachers. Jimmy always wanted to know more. To find out why. His teachers sometimes struggled to satisfy his thirst for knowledge and had to balance his needs with those of the rest of the class. At a