Author: Columnist on West End Today

Ore Trains, Ocean Crossings and the Long View of Summer

There is a particular texture to a February morning on the program. The holidays are over. The heat has settled in properly. Fires are burning in one state while another waits for rain. People are back at work, back on highways, back in boats and on beaches, carrying the season with them.

This week the lines stretched from the red dirt of Western Australia to the cold valleys of Utah, from Bass Strait crossings to million-dollar race wins, from seedless pumpkins to the first steps on the Moon.

Australia, as ever, was wide awake.

One Hundred and Forty Tonnes Before Dawn

Craig was somewhere between Wiluna and Leonora, running south along the Goldfields Highway with 140 tonnes of iron ore behind him. All up, he said, the rig weighs about 195 tonnes. It was still dark. Thirty degrees already. Cows wandering across the road.

He works fly-in fly-out. Four weeks on, two weeks off. A month at a time in the West, then home to the Gulf for a break. Twelve-hour shifts, sometimes twelve and a half. This was the last run of his swing before flying out on Monday.

Out there, the traffic is mostly other road trains and mine vehicles. Not much else. No suburban rush hour. No coffee queues. Just heat that sits in the cab and the long ribbon of bitumen through scrub.

When asked what he could see out the window, the answer was simple: bush, darkness, and the need to stay alert for livestock. With that much weight behind you, you do not get second chances.

Three Kayaks and 320 Kilometres of Water

From the open highway to open ocean.

David rang from Roydon Island, just off the northern tip of Flinders Island in Bass Strait. He and two friends call themselves the Strait Crackers. They had launched from Port Welshpool, paddled to Wilsons Promontory, sheltered in Refuge Cove, then crossed to Hogan Island, on to Deal Island, and down toward Flinders.

Three exposed crossings. Around 320 kilometres in total. About two weeks on the water, depending on the weather.

They carry freeze-dried meals, water, beacons, plan A, B and C. They wait for weather windows and do not launch if the forecast looks wrong. “You’d be crazy,” he said.

Their longest crossing had been 65 kilometres. Tailwinds at times, small sails up, some “spicy moments” but nothing unmanageable. The trick is respect. If it turns, you hold ground, ride it out, reassess.

David is an outdoor education teacher in Kangaroo Valley. Every few years he plans something bigger than routine. One of his teammates, Paul McMahon, is an apple farmer in Pozieres near Stanthorpe. Apple season is underway. The crates are being packed while he is out on Bass Strait.

The destination now is Whitemark, and a pub. After weeks of salt, spray and rationed food, that sounded like a fitting reward.

A Horse Nearly Lost, Then Found

Des rang with the kind of excitement that comes only rarely.

His horse, Axius, had nearly been put down as a foal after suffering a broken jaw from another horse. Instead, he survived. Carefully managed. Lightly raced. Five wins from nine starts.

They took him to the Gold Coast, almost as an afterthought, for a three and four-year-old race. He ran third, carrying 60 kilos with Nash Rawiller aboard. A week later they had a throw at the stumps in a much harder race. Des managed to get odds of 100 to one early in the week, not even sure the horse would gain a start.

He did. He won.

A million-dollar race. Trained by Kieran Ma, largely prepared out of Bong Bong by Johann Gerard-Dubord, ridden this time by Tim Clark. Prize money of $579,000 for the win. Des owns five per cent.

He described it not as triumph, but gratitude. “More thankful than excited,” he said. There was no jealousy among friends and family. Just delight.

The horse now heads toward listed and group races. For Des, it already feels like the Melbourne Cup.

Honeysuckle Creek and the First Steps

Michael rang from Kiama to clarify something that matters to those who remember July 1969.

It was Honeysuckle Creek Tracking Station, near Canberra, that first received and broadcast Neil Armstrong’s descent onto the Moon and the first minutes on the lunar surface. Not Parkes, at least not initially.

The camera on the lunar module had been installed upside down. Engineers at Honeysuckle Creek worked out how to invert the signal properly before transmission. Later the dish was relocated to Tidbinbilla. Today there is a plaque marking where those first images were sent to the world.

It is the kind of detail that sits quietly in Australian history. Not flashy. Just precise.

Rates, Debt and a Drought in Utah

Kieran Kelly joined from Utah, sitting in sunshine where there should have been four feet of snow.

He spoke first about interest rates. A quarter of a percent rise, he argued, is symbolic rather than decisive. He recalled Paul Keating’s idea of the “announcement effect” — shock the system to change behaviour. One per cent in a single hit would send a clearer message than incremental adjustments.

Australia’s national debt is heading toward $1 trillion. The interest bill alone about $27 billion this year. That, he warned, is a burden passed forward.

Then he looked out his window.

In the Wasatch Mountains, mid-winter, there was no snow. Ten degrees and sunbathing weather. Golf courses open. Deer grazing on lawns normally buried under drifts. The lowest precipitation in fifty years.

He described it in Australian terms: like Darwin passing through an entire wet season without rain. No build-up storms. No monsoon. Just dry heat rolling on.

Insurance companies are refusing fire cover in parts of the valley. Timber houses sit among trees. Businesses that rely on ski tourism are struggling. Even whispers about future Olympic viability.

The drought there is not dramatic in the way floods are. It is simply absence.

Sharks, Science and Caution

Back home, the shark discussion continued. Bull sharks in Sydney Harbour are not new. What seems new is their apparent increase in attacks.

Water temperature shifts, turbidity after heavy rain, changing prey patterns — there are theories, but no consensus. A paramedic from the Mid-North Coast called to clarify the practicalities: in a shark bite, the immediate priority is catastrophic bleeding control. Tourniquets save lives. But so does keeping the patient warm. Hypothermia impairs clotting.

It was a reminder that debate sits alongside real people dealing with consequences.

At Bondi, the North Bondi Ocean Swim Classic went ahead. Other swims had been postponed. Swimmers will always return to the water.

Seedless Fruit and Seeded Doubts

Wendy from Stanley in Victoria wondered aloud whether seedless pumpkins and zucchinis signalled something deeper. She had seen crops without seeds, watermelons bred for convenience, strawberries that do not produce runners.

Was diversity being narrowed too far?

A horticulturist from Ballarat reassured her. Stress, poor pollination, extreme heat can all disrupt seed formation. It does not mean vegetables are disappearing. Plants still want to reproduce.

Still, the conversation drifted to grandparents’ gardens. Rhubarb, spuds, apricots, quinces. The memory of abundance grown at home rather than bought at supermarket prices.

In an era of rising costs, the backyard patch feels less nostalgic and more practical.

Letters from Santa Barbara and Beyond

Chris Morris wrote from Santa Barbara. As a boy he had grown up in Woomera, his first girlfriend the daughter of a US Air Force master sergeant stationed at Nurrungar Tracking Station near Island Lagoon.

Forty-six years later, he searched her name online. Found her. Flew to California. They married during COVID in a government-run ceremony conducted from a toll booth in Anaheim, with three minutes allowed for photographs before the next couple arrived.

Marriage in a car park. First love rediscovered. The world is stranger and kinder than it sometimes appears.

Jude and Judd wrote of 388 days without electricity on a small farm outside Perth. An outdoor shower bolted to a bush pole. Solar panels eventually installed. Eight years without television. ABC radio as companion.

There are many ways to live.

Patches and Persistence

Jennifer from Kings Langley spoke of sewing patches onto her trousers and shirts, making shopping bags from old drapes, wearing clothes decades old.

Her father once turned worn woollen skirts into overalls on a treadle machine. Waste, she said, is the real problem.

In a week of discussions about debt, drought and disappearing snow, there was something grounding in the act of mending what you already have.

Holding the Line

From iron ore trucks before dawn to kayaks on Bass Strait, from racehorse miracles to Moon landing corrections, from Utah drought to backyard vegetables, the morning held together through detail.

The country is not one story. It is thousands of them, overlapping.

Drivers watching for cattle at 30 degrees in the dark. Teachers paddling toward Whitemark. Owners checking racing results. Engineers correcting signals from space. Paramedics wrapping blankets around trauma patients. Gardeners worrying about seeds.

It is all happening at once.

And on a Sunday morning, for a few hours, it is all spoken aloud.

Listen to the podcast episode here.

Disclaimer: ‘Australia All Over’ is a program produced and broadcast by the ABC Local Radio Network and hosted by Ian McNamara. Brisbane Suburbs Online News has no affiliation with Ian McNamara, the ABC, or the ‘Australia All Over’ program. This weekly review is an independent summary based on publicly available episodes. All original content and recordings remain the property of the ABC. Our summaries are written in our own words and are intended for commentary and review purposes only. Readers can listen to the full episodes via the official ABC platforms.