By Terry Fogarty, 1994
In 1990 the author was returning from a trip to the far north of New South
Wales via Coff's Harbour. He had been telling his three young daughters
about a magical place known as Boambee Creek. A place of sand, fish and
serenity.
"Take us there"pleaded the girls.
They diverted toward Sawtell. Boambee Resort loomed into view. Then a
TOLL GA TE.
"Where is this beaunful place anyway ?" asked Jacqui.
IT WAS GONE.
These short stories recreate a place mislaid.
Look at the Sunset Coming up !
The Time we went after LUDERICK
We've Forgot the Bloody ........
Whilst Dad was building our own home in Third Avenue, we lived at 46 Sixth
Avenue, Berala, with Grandma and Grandfather. I was five at the time. Every
night, Grandma would come in to say goodnight. This was after we had
finished saying the Rosary. She would sit on the side of the bed and tell me a story.
One night she told me about the fishing trips her father used to go on
at Boambee.
"They would catch the Overnight Mail from Central. Often your Dad, (that's
Greg) would be with them. They would travel all night sitting up on the Steam
Train. They would have stopped on the way to make a pot of tea with boiling
water from the Steam Engine. Eventually, they would see the sun rising in the
east. Soon it was time. They would gather up their ports and swags. As the
rail bridge came into view they would open up the carriage door. As soon as.
they had crossed the bridge, they pushed all their gear out the train door and
watched it roll down the slope towards The Shack.
Three minutes later the train stopped at Boambee Station. They got off and walked
back to the Shack. i;
They didn't have to carry their gear very far. II
Grandma used to go night frshing nt Boambee with her father. One night,
whilst they were fishingfor bream in Boambee Creek, her father felt a
massive "bite". No matter how hard he tried he could not pull the monster
fish in. Although he felt it unlikely he started to think that maybe it wasn't a
fish after al1 but a snag.
"Maggie, grab the Iantern an give me some light" he hollered Grandma
gingerdv moved to the front of the hoat and held the lantern forward Just at
that moment there was an almighty "twang" as the frsh bit through the line
and escaped The boat rocked backwards, Grandma lost her footing, fell and
dropped the lantern overboard. "That's it" said her father "We're going home ".
The next night Grandma waited till everyone was asleep. Then she snuck out
and went fishing by herself. Abo:t midnight, she felt an almighty bite. Had 1.
she hooked the monsler bream ? Mnvhe not, because by pulling really hard
she found she wa.s able to reel the line in. After about two hours, it started to
get lighter near Jhe boat. It can't he sunrise yet, she thought, it's only about
2. 00 am. Sure enough, she soon found out why it was light at 2.00 am and
why her Iine was so heavy. As she looked into the brightening water she could
she the biggest Mad Crah ever recorded in Boambee Creek. The reason it
felt even bigger lhan it was, was because it was trying lo swim backwards
with it's massive claw. In its other claw (yep, you've probably guessed) was
her father's lantern.
As the monster was pulling and tugging it also had it's scaly lips pursed and
with puff after puff it was trying to blow out the flame in the lantern so
Grandma couldn't see it.
When I used to go to Sawtell with my Mum and Dad and my big brother, Tony. We used to get the Overnight Train from Central Railway. Because Dad worked in the railways, he had a holiday pass for the family, So it didn't cost us anything for the train fare. Sometimes there would be corridor carriages on the train, other times a box car, sometimes a compartment car,but never a Pullman.
Dad had a NSWGR " Carriage Door Key". We would select a compartment, spread
ourselves out, then Dad would "slip the lock". New arrivals, rushing to find an empty
seat would try the door. It wouldn't open. We would try tohelp, by pulling on the inside
- still no luck! Must be stuck matel On they would go to another compartment. On we
would go on the journey - four of us in seats for eight.
One time, we were in an new carriage, like the ones on an electric train. It wass pretty
crowded and 1 had been put to sleep in the luggage rack at the end of the car. It must
have been around 5.30 am that I woke up (I still wake up about the same time now). I
looked out the right hand window confused Then I worked it out. I rushed off to find
Mum & Dad.
"Hey! Look at the sunset coming up" I shouted.
I had never seen a SUNRISE before.
Evidently, everyone else in the carriage knew what it was as they all bursts, out laughing.
When the train would reach Sawtell Station, we would get off and look for a taxi.
"Where're ya going ?" the driver asked.
"To the robbers on the Reserve" said Dad.
"There's no robbers in Sawtell. Anyway, why go to the robbers ?"
"Look here" said Dad "We always stay with the robbers, they live in that first
house on Reserve Road, he runs the Bakery in town. Don't tell me they have
moved without telling me. Damn, where will we stay ?"
"Does this mean we won't be able to go fishing ?" I ask.
"Typical" says Mum "We mose as well go back to Sydney now. I'm not going
to stay anywhere diff'erent. "
"We could stay with the Cooks" says Tony.
"I'm not staying there" says Mum.
"HANG ONA MINUTE" pipes up the cabbie. "You don't mean the ROBERTS' do
you ? The ones with that funny boy Ray ?, They live in the first house on Reserve Rd "
We did get to go fishing that year after all.
Atler a while, we didn't stay with the Roberts'. I'm not sure why. But have my
suspicions. Instead, we used to stay at Lawson Flats.
We had one of the two small flats on the groundfloor as there were only four
of us. Cookie and his mob and Eric his wife and their kids stayed in the two '
bigger flats upstairs. All up there was around fifteen of us.
Most nights after dinner we would all gather around the table in Cookies, flat
and play ' penny in ". Because I'm a good cheat, I would often end up winning
25p, sometimes even 50p - if we played late (each game could take two hours
or so).
The next morning we would be up at 5.30 am to start on our daily walk to
Boambee Creek where the fish were. Halfway to Boambee was a shop. But at
6.30 in the morning it was never open. Also, it never seemed to be open when we
were coming home. I mean, you think they would wait for us, even if sometimes it was
around I0.00 pm at night before we got tired of pulling the fish in.
Anyhow, one time when we were fishing for mullet, I said "1 need to go to the
toilet ". "Over the back" Tony would cry out. "No. I need to do a BIG ONE"
"Well I'm not stopping to row you in" moaned Dad
"I need to go REAL BAD".
"Alright" Dad would say "We'll drop yovu ashore, but were not going to come back to get you again. You can walk home."
See ya. Off I trot. At midday I knew that shop would have to be open.
There was one day,I had lost at cards the night before (I think they had
worked out why I was always getting a drink of water all the time), when I had NO
INTENTION of walking home early from fishing.
That night, Dad had said "How bout we go catch us some LUDERICK tomorrow "
"Ya" I yelled Uncle Lucky had told me all about LUDERICK. Catching them would
be fun.
"Won't we need some guns ?' I asked the next morning when we were packing
to go. It was still dark and hard to see what gear Dad was putting together.
I
"No" said Dad "but we will have to stop off on the way and get some cabbage. They
like cabbage"
"And corn, and grits and bacon rind and grease"I said, I krrew what LUDERICK
liked
They all looked at me, queer like "Well, maybe some weed" said Dad.
Like this was the sixty's man - was my dad cool.
"Do we give them the weed, or do we smoke it first. " They all looked at me,
gueer like, again.
Eventually, we arrived, just below the Railway Bridge on Boambee Creek.
"Won't get LUDERICK here"I says. "There all camped near the Shack".
Dad got twenty; five that day. Right at that spot. Here sure knew all about blackfish.
We had gone back to that same spot on Boambee creek, just below theRailway Bridge.
Only to get there, this time we had walked over the Headland, and past the water tank.
It had been a long, hot day. We had been fishing for tailor and bream off the rocks,
near where the creek joins the Pacific. We hadn't been too successful.
"Lets call it a day" says Dad. We make the long trudge home. Luckily, it was early, the
shop was open and I had won at cards a ain. Whilstl we were unpacking the gear at
home. We all heard an almighty roar. "Chrust, we've forgot the bloody knife." "Terry!"
Terry was long gone. I think Tony had to goback that day
The next day was the day we were going home to Sydney. We had been packing since 5.30 am. "Don't forget the sheets" said Mum. "Or the frypan", "Where's that extra sink we brought".
Finally, the cab arrived "Not you lot again" says the cabbie....."Seen any robbers latterly ?" (Ha, bloody, Ha).
We eventually get everthing loaded into the cab and made the station with
twenty minutes to spare.
"Train will be here in ten minutes" says Mum "Get Ready". "Terry, you take
those five little ports, Tony, you take the three big ones. Greg get the fishing
basket and the rods" "Where's the bloody rods, Tony" says Dad.
"Back at the flats where he left them" I cry in delight.
Dad made it there and back with that cabbie in seven minutes. We made the train.
Twelve tired hours later we pile off'at Central, and look around.
"Where's the bloody wife ?" says Dad.
This year, Granfather Fogarty had come with us to Sawtell. We all went fishing up on
Boambee Creek. It was an overcast day but the flatties were really biting on mullet gut.
The creel was soon full with flatties between 12" and 15" long. Probably about ten of
them.
Around midday, the sun broke through and it started to get steamy. Let's row
back upstream and do another drift says Dad. On the row up, Grandfather
Fogarty comments "Those fish'll go off'unless we put them in the water. Greg, have
you got a sugar bag ?" "There's a big one up the front of the
boat" says Dad "It's too bloody big" says Granfather "It'll snag on the bottom. " "I'll cut
it down" says Tony. He sets to work on the bag.
By this time we had made the top o. f the creek. The tide had just turned and we could
see the bigflatties feeding on the sandflats. "Let's get em" says Dad "Here Terry" says
Grandfather "Put these fish in that sugarbaga and throw it over the side". We sets to
fishing.
Over the next two hours we pulled in about ten whoppers each. Seems like everytime
we put a bait in the water a giant, flatty would grab it and dive for the bottom. Time
after time would come the yell "Pass the net" followed by "Open the bag". And in
would go another one to be kept frseh and cool.
"Never seen so many flatties" says Grandfather. "They all start to look the same after
you catch so many. I could have sworn that last one looked exactly like one I'd caught
twenty minutes ago. "
"How many do ya reckon we've got" I ask. "About fifty" says Tony. "Geez it must be a
big bag" says I. "It was, but I cut it down"says Tony.
"Time to go home" says Dad "Pull the bag in Tony. " "I have" says Tony
"which end was I supposed to cut ?"
If we were going to drift for flathead on Boambee Creek, I would go down to
the little creek at the back of Lawson Flats to catch some poddy mullet.
In those days, milk used to come in a milk bottle, not a cardboard carton. I
would put some stale bread (yes ! bread used to go stale in a day) in the
bottom of the bottle and place the bottle in the creek.
Whist waiting for the poddies to swim into the milk bottle,I would cut a a five
foot "rod" from the bush and tie seven foot of fishing line to it with a tiny
nigger hook on the end. Using some of the dough Dad would have made for
mullet fishing I would set to "hauling" poddies out of the creek
When I had half a bucketful I would retrieve the poddies from the milk bottles
to fill up the bucket.
Live poddies made great flathead bait. There are pictures to prove it in the
photo albums.
Sometimes, we would have so many poddies and so much mullet that we
would keep the mullet gut for bream bait for night fishing. Dad had some jam
jars he kept special for mullet gut. We'd stuff'them full and put salt on the
top. Then put them in the back of the fridge.
One morning at 5. 30 am, before we went fishing, Mum got up to get our
breakfast. "Who wants frg jam on their toast this morning ? ". "YEP!" we all
said
A little time later Tony said "Hey Mum, this fig jam tastes funny".
"Eat it all up or you won't be going fishing with your father" replied Mum.
We never owned our own boat. Anyway, even if we did, we wouldn't been able
to lug it with us on the train. Instead, we used to hire our boats for two weeks
from 'Old Bert'. ,
Bert had a little boatshed, right on Boambee Creek, where the car park is
now. On our first day at Sawtell we would get a key to the boatshed from
Cookie. I think Cookie used to drink in·the pub with Bert. We arranged to
hire the boats for the full two weeks of the holidays. Because there were so
many of us we were able to hire ALL Bert's boats. So it was just like owning
your own private boatshed.
Bert's boats were wooden and quite heavy. There were three bigger boats,
about l4ft arrd a smaller one about l2ft. When the tide was out, it was a long
way from the boatshed to the water, so we had some rollers we used to haul
the boats.
Even though the sand was flat, it always seemed very steep if the tide was out
at the end of the day and we had to haul the boats back up to the shed I often
suggested "Why don't we just leave the boats here overnight, that would save
us hauling them in and out again tomorrow morning. The waters always in
much the same spot when we come back tomorrow".
They all used to look at me queer like, being the youngest. No one ever thought to tell me the tide comes in and goes out again. You are supposed to know these things if your a real fisherman.
Before I was born, Dad used to go to Sawtell with his father. They mustn't
I known Bert in those days as they didn't fish out of boats in Boambee Creel
Instead, they used to fish at a spot known as the Plantation. This was down
on Sawtell Creek. Evidently, in those days there was a banana plantation
thereabouts. However, the day Dad took us down there were no bananas.
There were no fish either.
We said, "Are you sure this is the right spot, Dad ?"
"Um, I think so" said Dad
But you could tell from the way he said it he wasn't sure.
Occasionally, the younger kids would get tired of fishing every day and stay
home to go down to the sandhills. The sandhills were just behind the beach
and were covered in lots of vegetation.
You could get lost in those sandhills.
We used to play 'hidings' Usually we would leave the girls and the boys
would run off to hide. Only we wouldn't. We would run alI the way home then
go off to the shops or the pictures, leaving the girls counting. We used to get
a belting when we did that.
After a while, the girls woke up to this caper, and wouldn't come down to the
sandhills with us. Then, because I was the youngest one and only one from
my family, the others would leave me to count. While they went ofJ'to hide.
Eventually, I would give up and go back home to catch some poddies.
When we were hauling the boats the sand was always covered with Blue
Soldier Crabs.
MILLIONS OF THEM.
We'd rowed further up the Creek this day Dad had said he remembered a
good bream hole where his Father used to fish about two miles upstream. The
bream weren't there this day so we had drifted for a while for flatties. A11 of a
sudden Dad says quietly "Gotcha" and slowly pulls his line in hand over
hand The line curls neatly between his legs and after about ten minutes this
massive flattie comes into view under the boat.
"What a whopper" I yell.
"Shush" says Dad "Pass the net".
"Pass the net Tony" I whisper.
"What net ?" hisses Tony.
"OOppps.I've forgot the net again" I smile between gritted teeth.
"Bloody hell" moans Dad as the whopper flicks his head and swims slowly
back to the bottom.
Only then do we realise I'd been'sitting on the net all the time.
We enn row back up and catch him again" I offer. Dad rehooks and
settles down to continue the drift. Five minutes later Dad whispers "Feels Iike
the same one again" then "No, it feels even bigger, jeez its heavy Get that bloddy net
ready Terry". We all peer over the side into the murky depths as
this gigantic Mud Crab looms into view. '
"It's a bloddy Mud Crab" Dad yells to Cookie, who's been drifting about two
ft behind us ever since Dad dropped the big flattie. "Lift him in" smiles Cookie.
With a mighty heave Dad hauls the crab into the middle of the boat. The crab
let's go the hook and scampers towards the front. That's where Tony's sitting.
Tony sees it coming and,jumps over Dad and lands in my lap. This upsets the
boat and Dad tumbles backward toward us.
Now the bloody boats taking water over the stern. At least the crabs sitting on
the front thwart. Only, it loses it's grip and drops toward us We pass midway.
Then the boats going under at the prow. I decides to jump, and land square
in Cookies boat, sitting in his lap.
"Grab him!" hollers Cookie.
"How" replies Dad
"Like this" says Cookie as he lifts HIS TEN POUND CRAB into view.
He had caught it whilst we'd all been mucking about and was holding it two
inches from his great smile.
Anyway, we finally all end up in Cookie's boat as he shows us how to tame a
crab.
One day, we had gone down to the sandhills while the men went off fishing.
We all came home at lunchtime, to be met by frantic Mothers.
"Where have you all been ?" they screamed "Haven't you heard there's a
tfdal wave coming ?" "quick all upstairs!".
"What about the men ?" we asked
"What time were they coming home?" they screamed
"We don't know, but you can bet if the fish are biting, it won't be to late"
"Tony, you're the oldest, you'11 have to go and tell them there's a tidal wave
coming"
"How am 1 expected to do that" asked Tony. ""They`ll be up the river, how
will they be able to hear me ?"
"Don't argue" he was told
About an hour later the men arrived home.
"Thank heavens" sighed the mothers. "How did you hear Tony ?"
"Waddya mean ?" asked Cookie.
"We sent Tony to tell you there's a tidal wave coming"
I
"Struth" they all said "We came home because the fish weren't biting".
"GGRREEEGGGGG !ll!!!ll!" '
Many years later, I was telling this story to my wife Mary. That's funny she said. We were sstaying in Sawtell that year. We went down to the beach to see the tidal wave that never came.
When we fished for flatties on Boambee Creek, first we would row upstream,
then driJt back down with the tide. Then we would row back upstream, then
drift back down with the tide. Then we would row back upstream, and drifr
back down with the tide.
One day, after we had done this about twenty times, the boys in the boat were
getting a bit bored We hadn't caught any frsh. Not even any Murphy Bream.
"How abotit we go for a walk across the Railway Bridge"suggested Billy
Cook "Ya" we all shouted Let's do it".
Soon we had beached the boat and scampered up the to the Permanent Way.
"Alright" says Billy. `Listen up" . "If we get half way across the bridge and a
train comes, you hcrve to squeeze down between the sleepers. Then j:ist beJore
the train gets to you, let go and drop into the river". "But that's about fifty
foot" I says. "There's no otherway" replies Billy.
We set of across the Bridge.
We had got just about ha fway across we we hears this big
NIIllllUUUUPPPPPHHHH- a bloody train. "Alright" yells Billy
"Remember what I told yas". "I dare anyone to wait ttll the train's ten Joot
away before they let go" I yells. "Ya on" shouts back Jimmy.
Jimmy and I had selected the same spot to crawl down between the sleepers.
The train was getting close - very close. I lets go and drop into the river.
tickly I surface - there lolling on the surface is Jimmy.
"Who won ?" I enquire. Jimmy just continues to smile at me.. Then I look:cp
and realise Jimmy won the dare.
Slowly, I pull myself out of the river a climb back up to the Permanent Way to
get the rest of Jimmy, so's his old head won't be lonely when we buries him.
Things Change.
My brother Tony had gone off to Teacher' College in Wagga Wagga to learn
to be a teacher. Mum had said she would still like us all to go on holidays to
Sawtell together that year. Tony said he would come but asked could he bring
a friend
We got to Sawtell before Tony. It's a lot further from Wagga Wagga then it
is from Sydney. ,S'o the next day we aIl went down to the station to pick up
Tony and his friend
When the train arrived and people got off we could see Tony but his friend
must have decided not to come as there was only another couple and a girl
got off the train at Sawtell that day. As we reached Tony he turned and said
"I would like to introduce my Mother and Father, and that`' my littde brother
Terry. "
I thought this couple must be his teachers from teachers college but they just
ignored us and walked by.
"Hello" said the girl "I'm Dianne ". "Where's your friend that was going to
come for the hodidays, Tony ? " Mum asked Then it dawned on us, his friend was a
GIRL.
Bloody girls, they want to come fishing, then they want to go home after an
hour if the fish aren't biting. They complain about the walk. They are always
in the bathroom when you need to go real bad They offer to wipe up after
dinner (struth we'll be expected to next). Who'd have a girl for a friend
The last day of that holidays we had decided we would have one last fish out
at Boambee. Tony had agreed we would stay until dark (even if the fish
weren't bitingJ. About eleven we had just burleyed up some mullet and they
were streaming nicely. The tide was perfect. There was a slight wind blowing from
behind our back that helped us lop our dough in their tiny little mouths
(one bait one frsh -in fact this day I reckon I might get two fish with the same
bait if I'm lucky). Give us another hour, I reckon we will home 200 of the big
buggers. It was just perfect.
"I need to go to the loo" says Di. "Over the back" I pipes up. "What ? "she
says. "Over the back. You can pee over the back (like us). " "Tony" she
moans. "Look here's the bait bucket" he says. "I don't wet the bait." " I want to
go to the loo" she says. "Use the bloody bucket" says Tony.
" aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa I hate you all. Take me ashore immediately. I never want to see
another Fogarty ever again. " she SSSCCRRREEEAAAMMMSSS.
"Struth" I muse "He's blown it now". "Alright" says Tony "We'll drop you
ashore, but you'll have to walk home by yourself. We're not going to come
back in and get you when your finished". "You can wait for me". "No way"
says Tony "The mullet will only be on for another half hour by the time we
get you in. "
Before we hit shore, Dianne was standing at the front of the boat (I guess
she needed to go real bad). Anyway, we rowed over this massive stingray (he
was about seven foot from tip to tip) that was basking on the bottom. Di
looked down, saw the ray, screamed, lost her footing, fell into all the mullet poo on the
side of the boat then bounced over the other side. The ray took of)" like a jet.
Again the serene shore of Boambee Creek reverberated wilt an almighty
We've got to clean the fish first (I whisper to Tony).
One morning Cookie was reading the local paper. 'There's a fishing
competiton on up at Yamba. F'ive hundred pounds if you catch some special
fish ".
"Let's go" says Eric. "Yeh" scream all the kids as we run to get our gear.
"Hang on a minute" says Cookie "We can't all fit in the car.It's two hundred
bloody miles to Yamba". The men set of and us kids went down to the
sandhills.
That night we was all sitting having dinner when Billy Cook mentioned
"Dad`s not back yet". "Neither's mine" says l. "Where are the men" says
June. "They went off to some fishing competition up at Yampa (sic)"says
Tony. "What ?" says Mum "When ? ". "This morning about 5. 30" says I.
"Well their dinner can get cold" says June.
We had our game of ' penny in'; but still no sign of the fishermen.
The next morning about 4. 30 am we hear a car horn coming down the drive.
Sleepily we all pile out of bed. "Whatdya catch" I ask as the men bleary eyed
pile out of the Prefect.
"Bloody nothen" says Cookie. "We didn`t get to Yamba".
Turns out they had stopped off on the way for a quiet ale (or ten) and left
Greg asleep in the back of the car. A couple of hours Iater they set off again.
Sometime later Greg wakes up and says. "Did I miss it ?" "What'ya on about
?" says Cookie. "Well we passed that house on the way up this morning".
"Oops" says Eric, "I think we're going the wrong way, I'll just turn around".
About two hours later Cookie pipes up "Mose as well stop off at this pub for
an ale (or ten). "
Another family used to go away with us and the Cooks to Sawtell. They had
three boys and a girl. the Cooks had three boys and there was Tony & myself.
long with the adults this meant that there were about IS of us that could
gather round a table at night.
Out would come the cards. "What'll be" says Stan
"21 " We all scream. "Get the matches and pennys ".
Thirty hands later there's about two bob in the centre. Lcrst one out wins the
lot. Two bob can buy a lot of lollies and ice blocks.
"How can I win"I muse, as I palm the ace of hearts up my sleeve. "Gee, I'd
like to win" (as the king of hearts goes into my 1ap).
The cards are dealt, there's only me and Stan left.
I look at the cards 1've been dealt. The ace of spades and the king of hearts.
Twenty-one. The pots mine..
Before we turn our cards over, Stan causally remarks "Of course you know if
we both get twenty-one the suit cards win".
I
"Hang on" I muse "Somethings wrong here, what's he an about ?"
"Sit'; says 1. .
"Sit" says Stan.
"Twenty-one" says I, "Same here" says Stan "Except mine is the ace of hearts
- so I win".
The train pulls out from Central,
We lay back in leather, locked away
All night it will take, to the place,
Where we go for two weeks to stay
T'he sun comes up, as I lie awake
In a luggage bin, all warm,I recline
But soon it's time, to climb outside
And push them ports, off the line.
To the reserve we go, to a room all forlorn
But it's shining outside and we're wishing
It'll be great, for two weeks, and so, as I speaks
We go off to Boambee for firshing.
A long way it is, when your'e only six
That climb down the clif,'to the beach
Along to the shed, thru soldiers, with bread
The dread as you see teeth you cannot reach.
A gaping jaw, the leer of the lore
It must have been at least three foot long
When it was dragged from the creek, landed
Then eaten that night with a song.
But now it hangs,along with its friends
On Bert'`s wall, there with the oars
White teeth, for a mouth that could speak
Of wondrous times when swimming outdoors.
We open the doors and drag an old boat
Across the flats to the waters edge
We jump in and paddle, out to the stream.
Then further and further to the ledge.
Then up the creek, kellick, not deep.
Out with the berley and bread
The surface boils as the mullet toils
To throw that hook from it's head
Two hundred or so and then we must go
To clean them, yuk, what a tale.
All shitty and sandy, and black linings hanging
Your back feeling the pain, as ya scale.
The sugar bags stuffed, then it's off
As we puff up to the water tower and on
Along by the road, to Sawtell and the crowd
Who'll eat them that night with a song.
Then the two weeks are over
It's time to go home, never fear,
It'll be the same again for eve !!
Cept, its not !!