1969 School Magazine

week lived here in "luxury". Adax-our official guide-was Mystery's chauffeur while Mr. McCrae was a representative from the bus comp arly. High on the sumrnit of the hill overlooking the camp was the look-out to\Mer, where you could easily see anyone trying to escape back to Brisbane. The two people who made the whole rip possible- Mrs. Specht and fuIrs. Middleton-lived in this hut in comparative comfort. \ilfle gaped in amaze- rnent at all their mod-cons-ai1 conditioning ( the windows were broken! ), running water, a stove and a refrigerator These two huts became the centre of our community life where q/e gathered to sing and discuss the next day's plans. The second night came. "\flsll-a camping trip wouldn't be a camping mip without a stormn -we agreed as the purple clouds gathered over- head. As the wind stiffened our ients billowed like sails and threatened to become air-borne. Just before midnight, rain started falling in heavy vertical sheets. It was then we realized how foolish we had been in choosing a position on the downhill slope, right in the parh of a roruent of flood water. Hasty rescue operations were of no avail. The moisture seeped through all our be- longings until we all felt like pioverbial wet- blankets ourselves. At d^y break our two staff chiefs declared the sodden, mud-bespattered camp- ing site a disaster atea. Even the brave tents looked on their last peg legs. As we rescued our possessions from the quagmire the grim truth dawned-((so this is what it is-a secret com- mando training camp for young 'women!" A few courageous girls lasted our the third drizzly night but nothing survived the fourth night's gd., except perbaps Ding and Dong,- the two dingoei whom we befriended - or rather who befriended us. At first we were not a willing party to the friendship. on those nights, some or .rc shared the cosy companionship of our teachers' shack while the remaining twenty-five fled to the uamped dining room of the A-line hut where a jungle of

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first time without the aid of torches was a real experience-some of us erected our tents in the oddest places . . . \ilhat next?-dinner, of course! Oh-no! We had mied to envisage what charcoaly delights our band of chefs would concocr but no nightmarish app^rLtion could equal our first in- troduction to the exclusive Fraser Island menu. Looking back, it uras funny how good and tasty those chamed lumps tasted . The cooks were heartily congratulated and retired while the washeruppers carted r'rp the water from the spring and promptly washed themselves and the dishes at the same time. Late that Saturday night, ure gratefully crept into our tents for our first bush 'bed-in". But our neu/ homes posed some difficuldes. Because our igloos were so small, the taller mem- bers protruded at both ends this habit v/as guickly stopped bv the rumour that wild dingoes were attracted bV such tasty morsels of exposed flesh. Next morning, the early riser q/as reward- ed bv the priceless sight of friends disentagling themselves from their cosy cocoons. The little tents distorted into many different shapes, seemed to become animated as the bodies inside scrambled to their feet, stretched and undid the flap to be immediately greeted bv dazzling sunlight and bright-eyed faces, urging them to dash down ro the ocean. By breakfast, our transformation was com- plete. City clothes had disappeared and instead were replaced bv uninhibited pioneer gear. The laborious task of moving camp now awaited us. Experienced as we were bv the previous night's hard lesson, we resurrected our humpy town in no time. Budding housewives arranged and re- arranged the interior decorations while orhers did their washing and artistic ally adorned an old dead tree-trunk in the middle of the abandoned camping- site. This uras affectionately termed "The Gussie Gum". T'q/enty yards from the camp, a white A-line construction, looking like some unearthlv fore-runner of the space age rose from the bushes. Two men who gave us invaluable help during the

MARY RXVER. IXEADS

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