Self Sufficiency

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Without meaning to reduce this great nations variety and beauty, we have to admit that without keeping note of the where’s, when’s and why’s we find it difficult to tease apart the different areas and cultures - although they are similar in theme. Each of the small towns along the way have left an impression - be it small in some cases and negative in others, and these have all helped us to see the bigger picture of how all the fragments form the whole. From small town miners with attitudes belonging in the 1870’s, toppless/strip bars belonging in the 1930’s, nuclear test zones belonging in the condemnation of history - to the plight of the countries original inhabitants ferociously dragged into a modern lifestyle, one which they weren’t in anyway prepared for and one which has done them little favour.

One of our endeavours which does stick in our mind is trying to improve our self sufficiency with a little fishing. We tried this down in Port Lincoln, off the south coast in South Australia. After sourcing a hand line (without rod) we went to the pier and sat and fished. Unfortunately our choice of bait wasn’t the best - tinned mackerel. After about an hour of either the bait falling off the hook or the little fishes nibbling it off the hook our efforts were well impeded by the growing throng of inch long fish waiting to be fed. We only managed to get closer to a catch with the help of a local who gave us some of his bait - proper bits of fish that stayed on the hook that the little fishes couldn’t easily eat.

After only a little while more we caught our first bigger fish, apparently a Sea Perch, that measured about 5 inches long and had the most vicious spikes down its back. The hook removal was a trial, although the greater challenge was the murdering of our catch. We were shown how once more by the local fisherman as he stamped on its head! This practice did seem quick and humane but it was a bit messy - not how you’d want to buy your fish from the shop.

So, after 5 hours of fishing we wandered back to the van with 3 small, spiky fish, at about 10pm to cook our feast. And all it cost us was $4 for the line, $3 for the tinned mackerel and $45 for the lost Swiss army knife. Figure in the packet pasta and you get the cost of a fine gourmet meal at a local restaurant - without your clothes and home stinking of fish in the bargain. But we did leave with a sense of self sufficiency you just can’t put a price on.

(A note from Gill - I felt we needed to mention the exciting new pub game we came across in a very small mining type town. Landlords - forget the weekly pub quiz, what you need is 'Chooky Chook Chook', yes, 'Chooky Chook Chook'! Upon buying a drink we were asked if we would like to enter the Chooky Chook Chook draw, and once we'd established that the prize was a chicken we eagerly agreed. In fact they give away 12 large fresh chickens on this particular night, and to add to the fun you get given a chook noise maker - a plastic cup with a wet string and sponge attatched which makes a suprisingly realistic Chook noise. This is only supposed to be performed upon winning a Chook but the temptation is too much for most people! Mark had grand ideas for a Chook barbeque as there were hardly any people in the pub so we were sure to win, but as it turns out the miners save their tickets for weeks (whilst they're away mining) then come back and win all the chooks, so we ended the night on pasta and tinned fish - awww).

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Photos

Pelicans
Seagulls can't

Mine all Mine
Open cast

Comments

[anonymous]

Good to hear from you again and that you are moving along. By the way, the last three blogs are in 2005 not 2006!! Have fun.