The Great Yabby Hunt

By Ivan Grosvenor Hawthorn and J. Ambler

Once upon a time, men and scholars thought the world to be flat. Some dreamt of a journey to the bottom of the ocean, while others dreamt of walking on the moon. What was this marvellous vehicle that would allow them to achieve their dream? The answer is simple really, it was their imagination. The Great Yabby Hunt is born out of the imagination of a small boy who dreamt of holidaying on his uncle’s farm. To him, this holiday opens the door to many wonderful experiences that he would never have experienced in the city.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Austin Macauley Publishers
• Release date: Mar 1, 2024
• ISBN: 9781528970112

Ivan Grosvenor Hawthorn

Ivan Grosvenor Hawthorn was born in the heart of a great wheat belt in Ungarie, New South Wales, in 1930, to farming parents. Ivan is the third of eight brothers – there were no sisters. At the local school house, where all grades from first to sixth learned together in one room, he started his journey through the corridors of education. This journey, whilst relatively brief, was far-reaching as his parents sought greener pastures, but in vain. During the great depression of 1929-1938, the family travelled to no less than seven different towns. At fourteen, Ivan left school and returned to Wagga Wagga where he was employed on a sprawling 44,000-acre property as a farmhand. As he grew older, he ventured far and wide, becoming a horse breaker, a shooter in the northern territory, a truck driver and an apprentice mechanic. In 1952, he joined the Royal Australian Airforce graduating as a motor mechanic, over seventeen years rising to the rank of Acting Warrant Officer. Ivan is the recipient of a ‘Certificate of Outstanding Service to Support Command’ and, the British Empire medal for meritorious service. On discharge, he joined the department of supply and wintered four times in Antarctica, twice on the Antarctica continent and twice as officer in-charge of the 28th and 32nd Australian National Antarctic Research Expeditions to Macquarie Island. On return to civilian life, he was involved in an industrial accident which after major spinal surgery left him permanently handicapped. Writing became pain management. A published author of 9 books, 2 scientific papers and one biography, he has been married to his wife Margaret for sixty-five years, with four children, sixteen grandchildren and twelve great-grandchildren.

Book preview

Fred’s Holiday on the Farm

Cock-a-Doodle Doo.

Cock-a-Doodle Doo.

What a strange sound the alarm clock is making this morning, Fred thought as he rummaged around searching for it on the nearby bedside locker. But strangely enough, there was no alarm clock there!

Cock-a-Doodle Doo. There, it went again; so he was not hearing things!

Sitting up in bed, just to be sure… Fred pinched himself to see if he was dreaming.

Ouch! he exclaimed… realising that he was really awake.

So, that very strange sound was in fact quite real!

Rubbing the sleep from his eyes, he looked about the room. As he looked around, it slowly dawned on him, that, this was not even his own room.

No. It was a small upstairs bedroom in the very large rambling farm house of his Uncle, which, was situated on a vast farming property far out in the country. A farm, where during the mid-term school holidays he was holidaying for one week.

Across the room beyond the lace curtains, which blew gently in and out with the pre-dawn breeze, his young cousin ‘Dominic’ lay snuggled up beneath the blankets; as snug as a bug in a rug. Slipping out of bed, Fred tippy-toed quietly across the warm timber floor to the open window and looked at the coming dawn and the wonderful scene which lay below.

In every direction, as far as he could see, there were many large machinery sheds, barns, milking sheds, shearing sheds, haylofts and stockyards dotted in the landscape. While down below the bedroom window many species of farmyard poultry such as the chicken, ducks, turkeys and bantams could be seen scratching at the hard surface of the back yard and searching in vain for a tasty morsel for breakfast.

Then, as he watched, standing proud and erect on a corner post in the fowl yard, a very large rooster with a red top knot and glorious coloured tail feathers stood announcing loudly, the breaking of a new day, "Cock-a-doodle-doo."

Fred looked out of the window at the scene unfolding below.

Can you colour the picture?

While beyond the homestead area large fields of ripening wheat and paddocks full of cattle, horses and sheep stretched on and on as far as he could see.

With each passing moment, as the piccaninny dawn grew lighter and therefore brighter, Fred watched in utter fascination as the first fiery red tinge of the coming dawn lit the eastern horizon. This spectacle was something that he had never experienced in the city; why even the air here was so fresh and crisp that he could almost taste it. Then, as the light increased further, as if by magic the scene below his bedroom window quickly came to life.

Fred’s Uncle Ben appeared on the scene heading for the milking shed with a large shiny pail clasped in each hand, calling up the milking cows from the lower paddock as he went.

Come on, Daisy. Come on, Sally. And, as he continued to call a whole list of names, the distant tinkle of the cowbells indicated that the herd was making its way up to the milking shed. Then,