Springbank - 1. Spring Ch 1

At the age of 20, I thought that my future was set, having graduated from high school with distinction in four key subjects, and at least an A- or higher for all other subjects, I had missed out on being Dux of the school by a very small margin and I was currently in my year third year of studying Agricultural Business and Science at University, which I wanted to complete before moving down to the station to work with Gramps, plus I had completed a Diploma in Emergency Health Care and a Graduate Diploma of Paramedicine, and I work part-time as a paramedic to help finance my studies.

My family consists of my father - who is a Forensic Accountant, with a degree in Commerce and a doctorate in Forensic Science and works for the Australian Federal Police, with the rank of Inspector based in Perth but often travels due to work commitments all over Australia, and my mother is a psychology lecturer at the university campus where I also study, as she has a Doctorate in Psychology and a degree in Information Technology.

We reside in South Perth, so we are close to our schools and work, and I have three younger brothers, twins Fin & Jaxon – 14 and Levi – 12, while I am 20 years old. “Cooper, where are your brothers? You are meant to be watching them while I am working,” Mum called out to me as I heard her enter the front door, which she closed before kicking off her shoes and dropping her things on the hall stand. “They are all in the upstairs family room, playing video games, I have been checking on them every twenty minutes,” I called back, which was a little lie, I was checking on them more regularly than that, as they can get up to some mischief if left unsupervised for too long.

“Good to hear son, how was your day?” Mum said to me as she entered the study where I was studying, and after a kiss on the cheek, she headed upstairs towards the parent’s retreat. “Email from Grandpa, asking if we are going down there this coming mid-year holidays?” I called out to Mum, “Let me have a shower and relax a bit and I will talk to you about it then,” Mum replied before I heard the elevator door close, which meant she was really tired from work.

“Was that Mum I just heard?” one of the twins asked, I didn’t bother looking up to see which one, as they both look similar and sound identical, which creates havoc at school, as they keep changing just to confuse everyone, although I did know which is which when I look at one or both of them. “Yes, just give her a bit of time to relax, as it looks like she has had a tough time today,” I responded and like a typical teenager, he grunted in response before he left me to continue my studies.

We have a fairly modern three-level home on the eastern end of South Perth, just 2 km’s from the Private College that my brothers attend, and I used to attend, and as I did, and where they ride their bikes to school each day unless it is pelting down with rain, then Mum will drive them to college before continuing to work at Uni. I have my own scooter, so I ride to and from campus when I need and I study mostly at home where it is a lot quieter than on campus and when my brothers are at school.

At dinner that evening, Dad arrived home just as we were about to sit down to eat, and he told us that he had just returned from an urgent trip to Canberra, which he felt was a waste of time and money, as he could have done the meeting online. When Mum reminded me about the email, I filled the family on the news from Gramps who for 42 years has managed a remote sheep station in the Shire of Dundas alone, as Gran had passed away from cancer a few years ago.

The station is just south of the Eyre Highway and 84 kilometres east of the town of Norseman. Before him, Great Gramps had managed the station for 40 years since 1942, and he retired shortly after tragedy hit the family in 1982 when Gramp’s twin brother – Walter was killed in action during the Falklands War. He was the second War tragedy to hit the family, the first was Great Great Great Grandfather Alistair, who was killed in action in France during World War 1 at the age of twenty, leaving behind a young widow and a young son – Simon who when he had grown up, was the first to take up working on sheep stations in 1936 in remote Western Australia.

Not much is known about the family before Simon, as he kept no records of previous family generations before him, except for the mention of his father serving during the Great War and being KIA in France. For our family to get to the station from Perth, we either drive the 765 kilometres, with an overnight stop at Norseman, or we fly to Kalgoorlie and hire a vehicle to drive the last 265 kilometres to the station.

Our family has lived and worked on this station for only two generations as Dad had decided to have a different career from working on the land, having done very well in high school and continuing to University, he took up Commerce and Accounting as a career.

Just like my brothers and I, he was born in Esperance and lived on the station for the first few years of our lives before we had to start primary school back in the city, while Mum would take time off from work each time she was pregnant with one of us, to allow us to start our lives on the station, which she too had experienced as a young lass, but further to the north of the state, and that is why we spend every mid-year and end of year holidays on the station.

As we ate dinner, Dad informed us that he was too busy with work to be able to take time off, but he encouraged Mum and us boys to go, as he felt that it was important to keep our rural and station life active, and so it was decided that we would fly to Kalgoorlie, and Gramps had informed us that he would drive up to collect us from the airport when the plane lands at 8.15 am on Saturday.

It was always great to see Gramps again and as usual, he gave us all a big hug before we were soon loaded up and heading south, with our first stop to Norseman to top up the fuel in the vehicle and rest break before continuing with just an hour remaining of our trip, and much to my surprise, Gramps suggested that I do the last bit of driving, which I was happy to do. “Oh no… we are going to crash with him driving…” my youngest brother Levi exclaimed, and the shocked look on my face must have been a classic, as my three brothers burst out laughing, and Mum and Gramps just smiled.

“Cheeky so and so, I will get you for that little brother,” I said, as I was handed the keys and moved around to the driver’s side of the vehicle and climbed in. I was already very familiar with the Landcruiser as I had driven it many times at the station, which was like our second home to all of us. When I slowed and turned right off the highway, after letting two large trucks pass, it was another twenty-minute and 24-kilometre drive before we reached the station’s front gate. A further one kilometre, from the gate is what we call the staff village, which consists of five cottages, a machinery shed, a kitchen and dining shed, a recreation lounge shed and a couple of water tanks.

Another 4.5 kilometres down the road are the station’s main sheds, yards and overseer’s house, and finally another 3 kilometres further on is the main house, water tanks and a machinery shed, which is 8 kilometres from the front gate and 32 kilometres from the highway. The overseer’s house is the original homestead which is fairly basic, while the new homestead, is very modern and has all the modern facilities, including its own separate solar and wind turbine power station, and swimming pool, which is used very regularly during 9 months of the year.

The new homestead was less than two years old and this was the second time that we had seen it completed, and it was great to be back at our second home. We stayed around the homestead for the rest of the day, as we all felt a little tired from the trip from Perth. In the early evening, as we were about to sit down for dinner, we heard a vehicle approaching, and stopping outside the front of the homestead. I was the first to step out onto the verandah to see who it was, and on seeing an AFP 4WD vehicle I smiled. “Family, Dad has arrived,” I called out, as I stepped off the verandah to approach the vehicle.

“Hey Dad, this is a surprise,” I said as Dad as he retrieved a small suitcase from the back seat. “Hey son, I was able to escape for a few nights and a day, since I was already in the region… well sort of in the region, I have a job in Kalgoorlie that needs attending too, and I managed to get a few days off to spend with the family, and it is only a few hours drive from Kal,” Dad said to me, as I took over carrying the suitcase and we headed inside. A little while later I walked into the study to find Dad and Gramps talking very quietly, stopping as I appeared.

“Good timing Grandson, come in and close the door behind you,” Gramps said to me, and I wondered what the hell this was all about. “Now as you know, there is not much we know about our ancestors before the Great War, only what I learnt about my Great Great Gramps being killed in France. What I didn’t know until just recently is that our family settled in Western Australia way back in 1867, just 38 years after the Swan Colony was established when our ancestor Henry Hudson was just 24 years old, as a graduate of Law at Edinburgh University, and was a law clerk for a major law firm, before leaving for Australia.

Four years after arriving in Western Australia, and after working on farms and pastoral properties in the north-west, Henry purchased one of the first large properties in the Toodyay region, which was semi-cleared for sheep grazing and cropping. Henry remained on the farm until he passed away at the age of 64, and is buried at the Toodyay Cemetery, his son – Jacob and his family had taken over running the property well before then, with his son – Alistair aged eight at the time of his grandfather’s passing.

It was Alistair who went to serve in the Great War and never returned, he was just 20 years old when he was Killed in Action, leaving behind a young widow and son – Simon, who had travelled to the UK to be closer to Alistair for when he was able to get leave.

It was believed by the family that Jacob had sold the farm west of Toodyay and moved back to the UK to support his widowed Daughter-in-law and grandson, but that was not the case,” Gramps informed me. “So, what happened to the family and the property?” I asked as I was now very interested in learning all this history of the family, and Gramps chuckled at this question, “I am very glad to hear that you are very interested in this.

“It was Alistair’s Grandfather – Henry who had set up a trust for the family to continue to own and manage the Toodyay property, with specific requests and orders. This included that the farm be leased out to a neighbouring farmer on a long-term basis until the family wishes to continue farming the property, “Gramps announced. “What exactly are you saying, Gramps? That the family still owns this property in West Toodyay?” I asked.

“Yes, and over the years and generations it has been forgotten about, and the family that has leased the property for nearly 100 years and three generations, have decided not to renew the lease, as the next generation has no interest in farming the land, and the law firm in London that deals with the managing of the property, which I may add is the same law firm that Henry used to work for, before immigrating to Australia has managed to track down me, to let me know that the Hudson family will soon be managing the property, and that is why we are having this chat now,” Gramps announced.

“Well, I am happy with my career and life as it is, so I guess it is up to the next generation to take over,” Dad responded, and it took me a few moments to realise that he was talking to me, and my mouth dropped open in shock at this news. “You are the oldest of the next generation, and your siblings are still way too young, so you are it, grandson, congratulations,” Gramps said to me, just as we were called to dinner. I spent all of dinner thinking about this news, and although dinner was delicious, I don’t remember much about eating it.

“Are you ok son? You are in your own world during dinner?” Mum asked me, as I helped to stack the dishwasher, as my siblings brought the dirty dishes into the kitchen. “Leave him be dear, he has received some startling news, which I will tell you about later,” Dad said before I could answer. After I had finished tidying up in the kitchen, I announced that I was going for a long walk to do some thinking.

I was away for well over two hours, and nearly everyone was already in bed. “Glad that you are ok. Have you made any decisions about what to do?” Gramps said to me as I entered the lounge area, and I sighed loudly, “No Gramps, it is going to take a bit more thinking, and also I need to know a bit more information about this other property,” I responded, “Well, from what I hear, it is quite a spectacular place.

It is called Springbank Estate, which can be accessed from Julimar Road, and is 18 kilometres from Toodyay, with the Julimar Forest to the north and 6.5 kilometres of the Avon Valley National Park on the South and Western boundaries, and 7 kilometres of Avon River frontage,” Gramps informed me. “Wow, that sounds very impressive and very large, how much acreage are we talking about here?” I asked, and Gramps chuckled at this comment.

“Not as big as this place I can assure you, but it is one of the largest properties in the district at 11, 260 acres in area. When you are ready, go to the Real Estate agents in Toodyay and they will connect you with the current tenants so that you can inspect the property,” Gramps suggested. Dad spent a day and two nights with us at the station, leaving very early on Monday morning to return to Kalgoorlie. Apart from a tour of the place with Gramps and me, he remained close to the homestead during his stay, so he was able to remain in contact with work when they called.

Meanwhile, I spent as much time as possible out working on the station, including some time in the machinery shed doing some much-needed vehicle maintenance on some of the station vehicles and it wasn’t long before it was time for us to travel back to Perth, as I only had a one-week semester break, and my siblings tend to get a bit bored out on the station with lots of restrictions on what they can and cannot do, because of the remoteness of the station, and we were booked on the 1850 flight that would get us into Perth just before 8 pm.

Although we live only ten kilometres away from the airport, it usually takes us between 15 to 30 minutes to travel depending on the traffic and after a light dinner, we all retired to bed early especially since I had lectures to attend the mid-morning the following day. For the first week of the second semester, all I could think of apart from my studies was the Toodyay property, and I decided that I needed to go and check it out.

Firstly I spoke to Dad, who agreed to get me a decent 4WD second-hand vehicle so that I could drive up to the property, and when I arrived home from Uni the following Wednesday, in the late afternoon, there was is Jeep Wrangler parked in the driveway. I stared at it for a while, before I began to slowly walk around it, stopping every now and then to have a more detailed look at it, with amazement.