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Stories posted in this category are works of fiction. Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
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All Alone - 29. Alo Chapter 29

I thought for a moment then smiled. “Or better still we could send them down to the roadhouse, where they can get accommodation and food, and so they organise transport back to the city” I replied. Tony grinned and nodded his head. “I like that idea better than the first, as it will cost them even more money” Tony said.

“Right, we will organise for both families to be transported to a prison colony… I wish, but not really. To the Minilya roadhouse, which is a 45 minute trip south of here, and there you can organise your own accommodation, food and bus transport back to Perth or where ever you come from, just remember, that you are no longer welcome to return to this station, as long as I own it” I said and I walked back to Matt’s Colorado.

Tony was driving a Toyota twin cab, so he had 4 seats available, as did I, which left two people without transport, so I called Matt, who was on his way down to Sandy point from 14-mile, having done a patrol of the whole east side of the fire.

When we arrived at the junction of the two station gravel roads, Scott, and the other ranger – Brett, were there waiting for us, and the passengers in the station vehicles were transferred to the P&W ranger vehicles, so we could continue on our work, while they drive the two families down to Minilya Roadhouse, who had been notified of their impending arrival.

Back at the Machinery shed, I asked Matt to paint up some large signs, “No Entry - The entire North End of Coral Coast Station including all campsites from 14 mile to the Homestead are closed, due to Fire Damage”, meanwhile I had sent Greg back to the north entry to the station, where the gate was closed and locked, and on the way back down the station road, he also closed and locked the gate at the fence and cattle grid.

Those who had evacuated south from the fire zone, had elected to remain camping on the airfield, and when not checking on the visitors, Dave, Matt, Greg and I were building a 700-metre long, temporary fence of steel pickets and lots of wire, from the gate at the old visitor centre site, in a south west direction to the fence line that goes west to the original main house.

This way it blocks all access to the north west section of the station, and towards the homestead beach, which is off limits to visitors also. After the long weekend finally came to an end, and visitors started their journey home, some visitors elected to stay, as it was now school holidays, and they quickly filled up the vacated camping sites at the south end of the station.

After some discussions with the Superintendent of Parks and Wildlife, I had decided to put two projects into action, the first is to build and extended gravel road for a distance of 5 kms, from the Southern caretaker camp, all the way south to Lagoon, making it all 2wd access for most of the south end of the station.

The second project is to install a transportable bathroom block and large water tanks to Black Cliff Lagoon, Bulbari and the Lagoon, providing 4 individual shower rooms and 4 individual toilets at each location, with a biodegradable septic system located another 50 metres further away.

They would have solar power cells to provided power to the water pressure pump, and some lighting at each site, and to build 4 picnic gazebos at each location, spaced out 50 metres apart on either side of the ablution block. I knew this would create more work for us with cleaning and rubbish collection, but it is a way to be able to have better control on visitor waste management.

On the Wednesday evening, I called all staff to a meeting in the late afternoon, an hour before dark, to inform them of the planned projects, and to let them know that Dave, Sue and I were going away for 3 days on business, and while away, Matt would be in charge.

The following morning, in two vehicles, we set off south, with Angus, Davis and Alistair travelling with me. We stopped briefly at the roadhouse to get some breakfast to go, before we continued.

As requested, we called into the accountants office in Carnarvon, where I discussed an idea about what to do with Coral Coast Station, before telling me about another station that is for sale, that is just 90 kilometres East of Carnarvon, on the Carnarvon to Mullewa Road, which is mostly a bitumen road, and that the owners are expecting us.

Reluctantly, I agreed to go and have a look at the station. Before leaving Carnarvon, we did some clothes shopping for Davis and Alistair, wo they had a few sets of work clothes, more suited to the outback, including leather boots and wide brim hats each.

Once this was done, with Alistair grinning with happiness at his new clothes, we headed East. “Where exactly are we going” Alistair asked me.

We have a station to visit, about 1 ½ hours east of here, and thankfully most of the road is bitumen” I replied. “I am guessing that this business trip is about looking at other cattle stations to work with?” Davis asked.

“That is pretty much it, we have three stations to visit, so we will be on the move a fair bit of the time” I replied, and I heard Alistair groan.

”You can always get out and walk back home if you like” Davis said to his son, and I saw Alistair vigorously shake his head, no, which made me smile.

As we continued east, I was surprised to see quite a lot of good - sized shrubs and trees, and there was a plentiful supply of grass, which was a good sign. When we reach the spot where the bitumen turns into a gravel road, I slowed down, and for the next twenty kms, we went at a nice steady speed, since I was unfamiliar with the roads.

When I saw the large steel tractor wheel, painted white on the side of the road, I slowed right down, and turned onto the station track, and just over 3 ½ kms later, we arrived at Doorawarrah Station, with a shearing shed and yards on our right, as I slowed down, as we approached the main buildings, that are alongside a large river.

Mr Ashburton, I am Doug Walters, welcome to Doorawarrah” a man in his 60’s said as he approached, and he held out his hand to Dave. “Actually, I am Dave Henderson, this is my boss, Lloyd Templeton” Dave said pointing in my direction, “and this is my wife Sue, and Lloyd’s Brother in Law and nephew” Dave said completing the introductions.

“Well it’s good to see a young bloke interested in keeping a family run station running, come into the house and we will have a cuppa” Doug said as he shook my hand, then led the way to the main homestead. “As you can see, we have a shearing shed and yards, machinery shed, hay shed, maintenance workshop, the main homestead, another good-sized house and a cottage, all nice and close.

That is the Gascoyne River, just there, and we do have floods from time to time, but most of them don’t affect any of the buildings. We have 50 kms of river frontage, with the station being on both sides of the river, with 542,900 acres in area, with the Kennedy Ranges on our north east boundary. I don’t have any rellies, and I am getting too long in the tooth to be working now, so I have decided to retire” Doug said to us.

Over the next half an hour, Dave and I asked lots of questions, and this was followed by an hour of driving around parts of the station, on both sides of the river. Doug stated that he would prefer to sell the station to a family, instead of to a big corporation, and I said that I would be making an offer to buy, as soon as I get back to my office in a few days’ time, which made Doug very happy.

After the 1 ½ hour drive back to Carnarvon, I confirmed with the accountant, that I wanted to make an offer on Doorawarrah Station, before we had an early lunch, and continued our journey south.

An hour later as we were approaching Yaringa Station, I was not happy with what I saw, very similar low vegetation to what is on Coral Coast with little or no trees for shelter, and tot saying a word I kept driving past the front entry to the station.

“Dave to Boss, wasn’t that the front gate to Yaringa?” Dave asked over the radio from his car that was following, “Yes, but it looks like the station is in a drought, and the vegetation is quite poor, so I am not going to bother with that one, over” I replied. “Roger that” Dave replied, as we continued South.

Nearly two hours later, we arrived at the front entry to Eurardy Station, and we turned down the station access road, and 3 kms down the track, we arrived at the homestead, having passed some sheds and silos about half way along the track.

As we stepped out, we were met by middle aged man, who once again went to Dave, to introduce himself, and so Dave introduced me and the rest of us. I was informed that a quarter of the property is Freehold land, which was interesting.

We were shown around the homestead compound, that consisted of an enormous homestead, a number of smaller sheds and one huge U-shaped building, which I learnt is the staff quarters, consisting of two wings of accommodation and a large central kitchen, dining room and recreation lounge area, with the building being a bit too big by my reckoning.

I was informed that apart from the permanent staff of a cook, a mechanic and three station hands, during seeding and harvest season, there is an additional 6 seasonal workers that are employed, doubling the number of staff members, working on the station, which surprised me a little.

After an hour of looking around and gathering information, I thanked the owner, and we climbed into our vehicles, and headed back to the highway. “Dave to Boss, over” Dave said on the radio, as we approached the highway, “Go ahead” I responded, having a good idea what I was about to be asked.

“Were to now boss?” Dave asked, and I smiled, “You do realise were we are at the moment, don’t you?” I asked, “Yes about to turn back onto the highway, just about 30 clicks north of… oh. “Are we heading to Chilimony Farm?” Dave responded.

“Yes, we are, we are heading home for a good nights rest, and maybe we could call into the pub for some dinner” I replied, sounds excellent to me and Sue, as long as you are buying” Dave replied.

Since town we only 16 kms from the farm, we went there first, and bought some supplies, before heading to the pub for a good meal, as we were all tired after over 800 kms of driving.

When we reached the house, it all looked nice and quiet, which I expected, but when I unlocked the door, and smelt beer and saw rubbish scattered everywhere, I became furious.

“Who the hell are you, and why do you have a key to this place” a man shouted as he stormed down the hallway towards us, and I saw Davis and Alistair back away from the door.

“I am the property owner, and who the hell are you?” I counter demanded.

“We are living here while we are working for Brooks Road Farm” the man replied, “I see, well that will be changing very smartly, you better get packed, because as of tomorrow morning, you will longer be staying here” I said, as I turned and walked out the door, slamming the door behind me.

“It looks like we will be staying in town tonight, and I have some serious business to discuss with the farm leasee” I said, and ten minutes later we were back in town and booked into the motel, with Davis and his son sharing a room. I continued to fume about what I had just found, and not hesitating I called the family lawyers, not worrying that it was well after business hours.

“After the Barrister had calmed me down enough for him to understand what I was saying, he said he was still at work, and he retrieved the lease documents to the property.

“Well, it looks like that I made sure that it is to the benefit to you, as there is a clause that states that if any property is found to be damaged or any changes to the arrangements, that are against the lease agreement, will deem the lease void, and shall be terminated without notice, active immediately, once a letter of termination has been issued and presented” the Barrister said.

“What does it say about using the farm accommodation buildings?” I asked, “The cottage it available to the leasee, to accommodate any farm staff, but the main homestead is to remain vacant, and is for the owners use only. The cottage is to be kept in a clean and well-maintained order, with any breakages to be fixed, immediately at the cost of the leasee. All existing fences are to remain as they are, intact and in good order” the Barrister said reading the information over the phone.

Thank you, that is good to know, now can you arrange for a bailiff to deliver a notification of Termination of the lease on the main Chilimony Farm and the Galena Farm too please, oh and while you are at it, you better check my neighbour’s contract too, as he has his farm leased to this lot as well” I said.

The next morning, as we gathered in the dining room for breakfast, I told everyone about the telephone conversation I had with the Barrister, and I suggested to Dave and Sue that they check their property as well, and so straight after breakfast, they headed off to their farm next door, where they found an equally poorly kept house and the gardens were in ruins, which they found very disheartening, and reluctantly they went to have a look at the far.

Meanwhile, I extended our stay at the motel, and let Davis and Alistair go for a walk around town, taking Angus with them, while I headed to the shire council building, to enquire about what could be done about this dodgy broadacre farmer, who was more interested in producing crops, and less about the buildings that are on the property.

After stepping out of the council offices, not happy that nothing could be done, at a council level, I was standing on the side of the highway, thinking of what to do next, when my name was called out.

“Are you Mr Lloyd Templeton?” the voice asked, and I saw a police officer, with the rank of sergeant standing next to his vehicle, on the opposite side of the highway.

“Yes, I am he” I replied, and after checking for traffic, I crossed the highway. “Mr Templeton, my name is Sergeant Oats, Northampton Police, I have a summons here to deliver to a Mr Angelo De Luca, of De Luca Broadacre Farming” the police officer said to me.

Copyright April 2019 Preston Wigglesworth All Rights Reserved
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Stories posted in this category are works of fiction. Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you. 
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Excellent chapter,  It would seem that if is time again to kick butt, it looks like it is his lot in life to kick butt

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On 4/22/2019 at 4:25 PM, mikedup said:

Excellent chapter,  It would seem that if is time again to kick butt, it looks like it is his lot in life to kick butt

Ouch! Who just kicked me?

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