Staying Alive: Surviving Tropical North Queensland

By John Aylmer

How does a kid stay alive while danger lurks in the bush and the river? A memoir of growing up on a farm in the tropics of North Queensland, Australia in the 50s and 60s.

This heartfelt collection of illustrated short stories captures a series of incredible experiences, as seen through the eyes of a mischievous farm kid.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Aylmer Technologies
• Release date: Jan 1, 2021
• ISBN: 9780648735342

Book preview

Not Meant to Die

I had just left the house without my mother noticing. I was three and free, and it felt good. I was eager to join some big kids (aged at least eight or nine), who were walking past our driveway on their way to the local store. I followed them but could not match their speed.

I hurried across the side road to the main irrigation channel which was part of a network of concrete canals built to irrigate the tobacco farms. I stared at the footbridge for a few seconds, wondering if I could negotiate the narrow plank of wood without losing my balance. The big kids had made it across, so I wanted to follow them.

I stepped onto the plank but must have slipped off and hit my head on the sloping concrete wall. My next recollection is of floating face up in the water as I regained consciousness. I recall that my mouth and nose were out of the water as I passed out once again.

Fortunately, a lady had been watching me from a nearby house. She could see I was in trouble and rushed over to help. The current in the channel was carrying me closer to the causeway. I came close to being sucked under the road crossing and would have certainly drowned were it not for her intervention. Although I have no recollection of this, I was pulled out of the water just in time.

Our school was lucky enough to have its own swimming pool built by the local farmers. When I started school I found I had a fear of water and I would panic whenever I was out of my depth in the pool. Eventually, I overcame this anxiety but I didn’t associate my aquaphobia with the irrigation channel trauma until many years later, as an adult.

Concrete irrigation channels provide water for farms but are a signifi cant drowning risk for children.

The Clare School swimming pool (c. 1960) which was built by the local farmers.

The Clare School

Attending the Clare Primary School was one of the most enjoyable times of my life. I started school in 1957, when I was five years old. It was a small country school situated in tropical North Queensland. My teacher taught a couple of grades in one room.

My first day at school was uneventful. In the months before I started school, my mother used to drop me off at other mums’ houses for the day. I believe this was something like today’s preschool. On one of these visits I misbehaved and was given a warning by the mother. I ignored the instruction and the mother began counting. I was familiar with this game and always waited for the last moment. When she reached a count of three, I was clobbered and started crying. All I could mutter was: My mum counts to ten before she hits me!.

Slate and slate pencil.

In grade one, we learnt to write using slates. These were a thin slab of slate framed in wood and about A4 size. The pencil was a round section of slate held in a metal tube for grip. My back still cringes remembering the occasional squeal as the pencil dragged across the slate surface.

For the first couple of months at school, we played with plasticine which came in several colours. Disappointingly, after playing with it for a while, the plasticine mixed and became grey.

Most rooms featured a picture of the Queen on the wall and an oversized clock. The floors were unfinished planks of wood. The desks were organised into two rows. Each desk had a lift up lid and accommodated two students.

At our school, we did not wear a school uniform, shoes or a hat. I don’t recall owning shoes until high school. In the tropics, the ground sometimes became very hot, and you looked for tufts of grass to leapfrog between when moving around. Some kids had a sports uniform for games between other schools.

Each morning we had a parade where the students lined up on the dirt assembly area. Standing on the school verandah, the Head Master made any important announcements before we marched into our classrooms. Sometimes I was selected to play the march music from a vinyl record.

In grade two, we changed to paper and lead pencils, and in grades three and four used pens and ink for our copy books. The copybooks were the method of teaching running writing by carefully copying examples. I developed a style from this practice that has stayed with me for life.

The ink powder was mixed with water, and then the ink well recessed into each double desk had to be filled. It was always a messy job when it was my turn, resulting in blobs of ink on the desk. The ink was usually a mousey grey but sometimes it was a vibrant blue colour which I enjoyed writing with.

Copybook with ink-pen and blotter.

I managed the copybook writing without serious issues, but others did not. Left-handed students frequently had trouble with smudges. The left hand would run over the wet ink as the writing progressed left to right, smudging the damp ink in the process. This was not a problem if you were right-handed.

Little lunch was in the mid-morning and big lunch in the middle of the day. Sometimes kids did not bring any lunch to school, and those who did often shared theirs. There was no tuck shop, and the general store did not provide lunches.

The State Government did not forget the health of the children. We had free milk at lunchtime. It was in a glass bottle with a foil lid holding one-third of a pint. Although the milk was packed with ice in an insulated canvas bag, it sometimes had melted by the time we were let out and the milk was warm. A number of times we had to tip it down the sink as it had spoiled.

The Government dentist came to the school most years to inspect the students’ teeth. I remember once, just before having a needle, the dentist placed his finger in a glass jar full of oil of cloves and applied it to my gum. He said it was like vegemite and I would not feel any pain and it worked. A system of pulleys and belts connected the motor that drove the drill.

I remember we were all vaccinated against childhood diseases. I was always first in line as my surname started with A. The syringe emerged from a wallet that also contained a few needles. A measure was injected into my arm from the syringe filled with the vaccine. It continued with the next person until the syringe was emptied and then refilled. Sometimes blood would enter the syringe and the colour changed from yellow to orange as it mixed with the vaccine to be injected into the next kid. After a few injections the needle would go blunt, and it was replaced. We did not know about cross infection but, even as kids, we felt there was something wrong.

The school swimming pool was built from money the community raised. Farmers provided the effort and the local water supply authority provided the heavy machinery. The pool was used to teach kids how to swim and for sporting activities during the summer months.

Sometimes a pair of us kids were responsible for dosing the pool with chemicals. There was a measure of lime and a measure of copper sulphate. One time when I was partnered for this task, instead of keeping the chemicals separate, we mixed them all in a bucket. The witch’s brew frothed into a purple colour and started steaming. We immediately tipped it into the pool and noticed the heat had distorted the bottom of the plastic bucket. The purple evidence quickly dissipated before anyone noticed. We didn’t do that again.

There were two celebration days of the year. One was a sports day and the other was the end of year Christmas breakup. Both times we had ice creams which came in a green canvas insulated bag filled with dry ice. On sports day, the teams competed in the egg and spoon race, three-legged race, sack race, high jumps, long jump, running and relays. One of the features was the go-cart race, which always had a few injuries with people getting run over or feet cut from passing carts.

Schools had a strong belief in corporal punishment. The cane was used to maintain order in the classroom. The naughty student was sent to the Headmaster for the cane. I did get the cane a couple of times and once I got six for sneaking up behind a teacher and flicking him on the behind with a rubber band. The punishment seemed harsh, but I didn’t do it again.

At the rear of the school, we had some trial plots of various pastoral grasses and legumes to determine which were best suited to the local soil and climate. There was one row of each type and a kid responsible for each one. Some pastoralists took an active interest and adopted some of