Volume 2, Issue 2

January 2005 We aim for inclusiveness and openness, catering for a diversity of views without rancour.

Somers Yacht Club Opening Day Commodore Andy Griffin welcomed the many invited guests to the opening of the sailing season for 2004/2005 on Saturday, October 23rd. Glen Ashby, Victorian Yachtsman of the Year and holder of a number of World Sailing Titles, declared the Sailing Season officially open, and wished all sailors an enjoyable time

and success in their sailing at Somers. The day also saw the christening of the club’s new rescue boat by Bev Dewar. Club members, especially those that may need to be rescued, were impressed by the fact that the 5.2-metre Staei-craft boat is extremely stable, very buoyant, has low sides to enable easy rescues, and for those who need that little extra, there is a

fixed ladder at the rear. Although a very dry boat under way, should it ever fill with water, unlike the Titanic, it will still float. A further attractive feature is the quiet 4-stroke Honda outboard motor, so taking all these features into account it will be almost worthwhile to go ‘into the drink’ just to enjoy the luxury of a ride in this special craft. Rod Nuske

A chance to feel needed! Here is an opportunity to help our young Somers children and at the same time be rewarded with that glow that comes from feeling needed. So whether you are a Mum or Dad, a Grandparent, a friend, or perhaps someone who has retired to Somers, this is a chance to really do something that is worthwhile by assisting at the primary school with children with special needs, or help create and maintain a vegetable garden, or help with the cooking classes.

The new Staei-craft rescue boat and the members who will man it during the season. L to R: Linsday Pullin, Norm Dewar, Garry Morris, Larry Dell, Tony Duboudin and Rear Commodore Janus Kanowski. In the boat: Ann Bartholomew and Ben Grist Wood.

Please contact the Somers Primary School on 5983 5546 and ask for the Principal Steve Wilkinson or Paul King.

Somers Paper Nautilus Printed by Norsol Consulting & Investment Group Pty Ltd

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LETTERS TO THE NAUTILUS Dear Martin Ascot, Your angry expression about the lack of trust in society may well be an internal expression about your own trust in yourself and others. I do not trust angry people. Trust has farranging meanings which the wisest people through the ages have attempted to understand. Trust oneself first; this leads to a trusting society. Richard Cuming, Bittern. Dear Martin, Trust is something that one mature person should give to another only after mature consideration. To be given trust is a wonderful thing but to give it when it is undeserved is to degrade the gift. Tiny children trust in innocence but to say that ‘make believe’ is a betrayal is too harsh. To deny magic and imagination to a child is as bad as denying food. A child will learn to know the difference between lies and make be-

lieve and will learn to give trust and learn how to earn trust as they mature. I trust you will find many people deserving of your trust throughout your life and that you will come to recognise the undeserving as pitiable. Yours Sincerely, Maggie Fry. Somers. Dear Editors, I read with interest Jim Enever’s article on the discovery of Lower Cretaceous black coal/carbonaceous shale samples on Somers beach and its feasible origin by natural marine transport from coastal outcrops, probably near Kilcunda (Nautilus, August 2004) and also the response by Paul Francis (Nautilus, November 2004). Paul Francis claims to have discovered a coal seam near Tulum Creek and suggests a more local source for the samples on Somers beach. However the critical question I would like to propose is whether the Tulum Creek seam is black coal or brown coal/lignite and I suggest

Editorial group: Louise Craig Anne Doran Bronwen Gibbs Anne Goodman Rod Nuske Please send all correspondence to: [email protected] Or post to: PO Box 338 Somers 3927

that it could only be the latter because any Lower Cretaceous black coal (age=120 million years) would need to be at least 145 metres stratigraphically below the Older Eocene Volcanics (age=45 million years), which outcrop in the Somers area. Locally in the Hastings Bore, seams of Eocene brown coal/lignite up to 3 metres thick have been recorded between basalt lava flows. A layer of lignite also overlies the Miocene Flinders Limestone (age=20 million years), which in turn is underlain by Eocene basalt at Flinders. I would be very interested to confirm that the coal seam mentioned by Paul Francis is in fact brown coal or lignite. If not, we have a major geological problem to solve. David Gilbert, PO Box 130, Somers 3927.

The Hottest Place “The hottest place in Hell is reserved for those who in time of crisis remain neutral.” Dante Alighieri 2

AN OPEN LETTER TO THE PEOPLE OF SOMERS The General Store/P.O. area seems to be the focal point of Somers, the common area where people meet while picking up the mail or a necessity from the shop. But for how long? Small shops are closing at an alarming rate due to the growing strength of supermarkets. People seem to have a ‘cheapest is best’ attitude, comparing prices in a standalone shop against the might of multinationals. Well, if the General Store is seen as just another place to shop, then its days are numbered. If it’s viewed as an important meeting place, the hub of the otherwise private community of Somers, then people have to go out of their way to support it. What does your local shop mean to you? Would you miss it if it wasn’t there? Since I’ve been running the store, people have told me that there’ve been four different operators in the past three years; that some were booming

and others had run the business into the ground. In fact, the difference in turnover for the best and worst operators has been less than 5%. This business was on the market for over 12 months before it was sold. Why? Because it’s an old shop with tired old equipment and an even more tired residence. In other words, nobody wanted it. The business I have to run has over the years lost its Post Office licence, its newsagency licence and its gas agency (which we are retrieving and would like your support). Couple that with a decline in profitability per dollar turned over (due to collection of sales taxes and GST), as well as rising operating costs, current operating expenses for the Somers General Store run at 30% of purchases. So a product with less than 30% mark-up (such as a newspaper – 12.5%) is running at a loss, and we have many customers who only buy the newspapers from us. If

WORDS FROM THE LAND AND SEA Spic and span: When the house is cleaned we sometimes think of it being all spic and span. Originally it referred to a newly built ship. A spic was a spike or a nail; a span was a length of timber. When the shipbuilding was finished the ship was said to be in pristine condition or spic and span. Origin: Middle English from the shipyards. Sleep Tight: Bed mattresses weresometimes made of horsehair and wool filling, supported on a bed by wooden slats. This made for a hard sleep. An idea evolved whereby a web of rope was woven from front to back and from side to side of the bed frame. This looked like a net with an approximately 6-inch (15-cm) pattern. When the ropes stretched they were

tightened. Thus the phrase when saying good night to your children or visitors – sleep tight! Origin: Middle English circa 15th Century

Vic Langsam

everyone was like that the store would soon shut. Yet newspaper customers can be the most demanding of all, especially if the store isn’t open on the dot of 7am. There have been some rumblings about the price increases and also products no longer carried. All items on our shelves are priced at the barest of margins to keep the shop profitable and OPEN, and if an item is no longer there it’s because we don’t sell enough of it to justify its spot on the shelves. The store is technically below health standards and really the entire building needs to be pulled down and a new, purpose-built one erected to serve the community for the next seventy years or so. If the people hinder that course of action then the store will close and you’ll all have to drive to Balnarring every time you need to buy anything. If you want the store to stay open and attract good operators, then it will help if you buy some food, drink a coffee, or slurp on an ice-cream every once in a while. In areas where shops have closed they have noticed a decline in property values. I don’t think that will happen here, but I can’t see it helping prices either. For those who think we are making a killing here I can categorically prove to you that Michelle and I are working for $8.59 per hour before tax. We pay our staff more than that! Yours sincerely, Michael

Art Consultant

advice and appraisals to new/established collectors Individual works and entire collections purchased or sales effected on behalf of clients 48 South Beach rd Somers tel. 5983 2716 email [email protected] Valuations for insurance and probate Current art works catalogue now available

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Somers General Store - service reminiscent of the old days

Community Forum

A Community Forum was held at the Somers Primary School on Tuesday 23 November, when a concept plan for the re-development of the school oval and playing area was unveiled. The plan had been a collaborative effort of landscape architect Chris Moore, Bernard Rich, a local parent and stonemason, and the principal Steve Wilkinson. The proposal involves excavation and drainage of the oval playing surface, erection of a terraced stone seating area, and creation of a perimeter running track. It is envisaged that stage one construction involving

the oval and the running track, will occur over the summer holiday period and be ready for the new school year, with further planning and development in the next 12 months. After discussing the plan the Forum members (see photograph) adjourned to the oval to see first-hand the issues involved. They then returned indoors to “brainstorm” ideas for future curriculum, the school grounds and buildings, money raising and ways to encourage greater parent and community involvement in the school. Rod Nuske

I recently had a touching experience. After a 12-hour stint doing home maintenance and general cleaning in Melbourne, I arrived back in Somers exhausted and needing to relax. I just wanted to collapse into bed and unwind by doing the crossword. Then I realized that I had forgotten to buy the paper. It was about 7.45 p.m. I wondered if the Somers Store would still be open at this hour, so I made a phone call. What a great response from Michael! “No, we’re closed; what is it you want?” “I just want the Age so I can do the crossword.” “That’s OK.” he replied. “Just come along down and I’ll have it for you.” I hopped in my car, and there he was standing outside the store waiting for me with the paper. What a lovely friendly response, just like in the old days of the Stone’s Store when nothing was too much trouble. Thank you Michael. These personal touches are rare these days and mean so much. Anne Kotzman While acknowledging this act of kindness we hope that this will not be seen as an invitation to take advantage of Michael’s goodwill. The Editors

ALL ABOUT BROWNIES & GUIDES Brownies & Guides is about having fun and enjoying yourself. The day I go is Monday. Brownies start at 5.45 pm and go to 7.00 pm. The age to be in Brownies & Guides is 5–18 years. The fun things we do are: go fishing, camping, tracking and games, meeting people and making new friends. The cost for a year is $90. If you have any questions call leader Julie Bryant, on 0414 966 143. Chelsea Haynes

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Guess who?

All mature aged persons should know this face. He was a presence in all our living rooms in the early decades of television. He often appeared first in profile, then he would turn to look at us directly and say, “Good evening, I’m Gerald Lyons”. The surprising thing is that Gerald and his wife Noreen have been living amongst us here in Somers for fourteen years. He can often be seen waiting at the bus stop at the end of Tasman Road and quite frankly, he looks as though he has just stepped out of an English country manor house. He has the beetling eyebrows and brushed moustache, cloth cap, cravat and cane that goes with the image. And if you thought you knew that face, well you did and now you have the answer. Gerald’s period on ABC television was extensive and varied but in fact, this was just one episode in what has been a most full and interesting life. He was born in 1922 at a place called Wokey near Wells in Somerset. Gerald has a cherished memory of the behaviour of swans on the moat around the medieval Wells cathedral. The swans had obviously been taught by swan-loving monks to ring for their dinner by pulling a rope attached to a bell. This was a phenomenon which attracted the intellectual

curiosity of Charles Darwin. Nowadays it’s a tourist attraction. The family moved to Bath and their dairy farm could be seen on the hills beyond the city. Gerald was educated in Bath and a private tutor was hired to bring his Latin up to scratch for entry to Oxford. As it turned out he joined the army instead. Initially he was with the Gloucester Regiment, then he moved to the Royal Corps of Signals at Catterick in Yorkshire where he shared a room with another officer cadet called Derek. Gerald’s roommate went on into photo reconnaissance but ultimately he ended up on the silver screen as Dirk Bogarde. Gerald’s career in the armed services started to take off when he joined the Indian Army and became part of the Second Punjabi Regiment. He did a tactical weapons course and trained in jungle warfare. He was posted to Burma and remembers that while on a long patrol, living off the land, he climbed a tree to do some reconnaissance and ended up falling on the radio, totally disabling it. Due to the ensuing lack of communications the patrol was posted as ‘missing’ and when they finally emerged, Gerald had some explaining to do. It so happened that the divisional commander, General Davies was visiting the unit and luckily he found Gerald’s story rather amusing, so much so in fact that the young Captain was invited to join the General at dinner in the headquarters mess. Gerald reflects that he truly fell in love with India, despite the smells and the poverty. He recalls that from his room he could see a signpost saying ‘To Tibet’, redolent of Kipling. With that chapter in his life over Gerald returned to England. He applied for a job as Assistant Education Officer in Norfolk and became a bureaucrat but he found that very dull. It was time for another move. He arrived in Australia intent on finding work in journalism and someone suggested he try radio. This led to a period at 3TR in Sale, which he enjoyed very much. A pet cow grazed in the yard behind the station. A 5

move to Sydney proved highly worthwhile because it was here that he met and married Noreen. The couple moved to Launceston and Gerald joined the Tasmanian Education Authority and went on to teach in Sandy Bay. Continuing his voyage, Gerald joined United Press, which provided news to provincial papers throughout Australia, and finally he worked for Reuters. Then Gerald joined the ABC. His first job was as radio talks officer, organising talks and editing them. Television was just starting but he had no interest in the new medium. In fact he found himself on the tube quite by accident. The station was testing potential newsreaders and presenters and they needed a guinea pig to act as a man-in-the-street type interviewee. All the applicants fired questions at him and when it was all over and much to his surprise, it was Gerald who got the job. In his long and very eventful life on the ABC Gerald presented the ‘People’ program, worked on panel programs, was a reporter on Bill Peach’s ‘This Day Tonight’. He worked on ‘Four Corners’, made a number of television documentaries which took him all around the world including to Hong Kong where he interviewed the governor. And talking of his interviewees, Gerald met some highly impressive people and some alarming ones. The list includes John Kenneth Galbraith, Archbishop Mannix, Frank Hardy and Australian Prime Ministers Whitlam, Fraser, Hawke and Keating. There was plenty of life after television. Gerald wrote an awardwinning book called ‘Breakthroughs’, (scientific) and for some time he was a talkback host on radio 3DB. Gerald loves reading, enjoys good music including jazz, follows the cricket and he would really like to take up chess again. He says that he is not a ‘joiner’; he prefers the company of the family; and so after such a public life he is quite content to live on quietly with Noreen here in Somers. Barry Merton

IAN PERRY 18-10-1920 – 21-10-2004

Ian was born in October 1920 during the period of blissful exuberance that followed ‘the war to end all wars’ and the great influenza epidemic of 1919. He was educated at Sunshine Primary School and Williamstown High School. On leaving school he embarked upon a career in industrial chemistry working for the company where his father held a senior management position, and pursuing his studies at night. Following the outbreak of the Second World War, Ian in 1940 enlisted in the Royal Australian Air Force and underwent his initial training at Somers where he was to return some 40 years later in retirement. From Somers further training followed at the end of which, having married his wife of 62 years Gladys in November 1941, he was on a train to Sydney bound for service in Europe as a navigator with Bomber

Command when the Japanese attacked Pearl Harbour. Instead of travelling to Britain, his orders were revoked and he was re-assigned to duty in the Pacific. He was to serve as a navigator on several aircraft types until his discharge in February 1946, including a lengthy stint flying Catalinas. Casualties were high and most of those who trained with Ian at Somers did not survive the war. On leaving the air force Ian studied aeronautical engineering at the Royal Melbourne Institute of Technology and joined the fledgling Department of Civil Aviation as an aeronautical engineer in 1948. In 1952, he returned to his first love, flying, as a Senior Examiner of Airmen (Navigation), a role he was to continue in until 1966. Ian was part of a relatively small band of men who built Australia’s post-war aviation industry, the cornerstone of which was passenger safety. As an examiner of airmen he had a reputation for being hard but fair. In an era before computer-driven navigation systems and satellite aids, Ian considered that a captain, and those entrusted to him, had every right to the most accurate

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navigation possible. If it meant failing someone, rather than placing lives at risk, there was never any argument, the former always prevailed. In August 1966 Ian stepped down from flying duties to become the Civil Air Attache at the Australian High Commission in London, a position he held until September 1971. As an examiner of airmen Ian spent prolonged periods overseas. The move to England enabled the family to lead a more normal existence and for the parental load to be more evenly shared. Ian (and Gladys) saw it as important to be involved in the community in which they lived. This led Ian, as a resident of Kingsville, to become a member of the Footscray City Council from 1956 to 1963. He was the Mayor of Footscray in 1960-61. When he and Gladys decided to settle permanently at Somers in 1984 he involved himself in the activities of the Somers Residents’ Association serving as its President and working with others to preserve Somers’ intrinsic beauty, unique charm and sense of timelessness. In time he became President of the Balnarring

Bowling Club and was an active member of the Balnarring Probus Club. As a younger man Ian excelled at cricket and tennis and carried this over in retirement to bowls, becoming a singles and pairs champion of the Balnarring club and enjoying pennant success. Immediately after the Second World War, Ian also enjoyed success with model aeroplanes, with one of his aircraft chosen to represent Australia at the world championships in 1949. In a career that spanned 32 years’ continuous service in the Department of Civil Aviation and its successors Ian represented Australia at 33 international conferences, was made a Fellow of the Australian Institute of Navigation and a freeman of the City of London. He helped shape Australia’s aviation security regime on his return from London in 1971 and participated in the establishment of the Australian arm of the Guild of Air Pilots and Navigators and served as its chairman for a time. When diagnosed with cancer of the bowel in late 2002, Ian accepted his situation without complaint. Following treatment and surgery in early 2003 he supported Gladys, who was subsequently diagnosed with stomach cancer, until her death in January this year. Not wishing to leave Somers, he remained in the family home until a short time before his death, leaving only to be cared for by family in Sydney in the last weeks of his life. His funeral was held at Mt Martha on 29 October 2004. For all his achievements and experiences he remained to the end a person of simple pleasures. Enjoying the warmth of the sun, keeping track of the continually changing weather patterns, solving crosswords and word puzzles, munching on his favourite sweets, bowling whenever possible and listening to cricket or football matches, the latter usually involving the team to which he had a lifelong attachment – Collingwood. He is survived by his sister Beth, and his children Margot, Nan, Ronald and Gregory, their spouses, and 10 grandchildren.

BELVEDERE ROAD Belvedere Road in Somers has certainly changed over the last few years with five new homes and many others renovating. We wish to welcome our newest full-time residents, George and Lindsay. Both have been holiday dwellers until now. Then there is Brian who has sort of retired. He is full-time renovating their home under the careful eye of Irene. Keep up the good work Brian. How pleased we were to hear of the safe arrival of Thomas to Emma, Cliff and James. Wonderful for Emma to have her mum and dad, Jenny and Peter here from England. They have bought a house in Beach Hill Avenue and plan to stay until February. Other mem-

bers of the family will be arriving from England for Christmas. It is also great to see Mary out walking her red setter and she is also looking forward to her sister’s arrival from England for Christmas. Another regular walker with her little dog is Margaret who has been away again on one of her little holidays. To Meredith, our instructions are: Be Careful. After breaking her wrist she has now fully recovered. The renovations are keeping her out of mischief, we hope. Vicky who was working at our local shop is now keeping herself busy with her garden. The huge Santa in the top of her garden certainly is a talking point. It is very hard to keep up with all that is happening around this beautiful part of the world. You only have to walk around the streets and see so much activity to realise that we are not the only happy residents. Judy Jeffs

LADIES PROBUS COOKING GROUP A lively rendition of Rolf Harris’s ‘Tie Me Kangaroo Down Sport’ by Meg Merton, Alan Lim Joon, Barry Merton, Verna Le Rossignol, Kathie Strickland and Lois Berg was part of the fun when members and guests enjoyed an Australian-style luncheon at the Somers Tennis Clubhouse. Af-

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ter kangaroo patties and salad, Kathie Strickland explained and provided Aboriginal tucker for those willing to try a new taste experience. No wichetty grubs though, just seeds, bulbs and native fruits. An interesting time for all who attended.

MORE VANDALISM Last Sunday while attending the Foreshore working bee I was horrified to discover that approximately 50 young trees had been uprooted quite deliberately in the section between Haven Street and the store car park. Many willing volunteers including the Somers Primary School children had planted those trees. Some trees, particularly the ones the koalas need, had just recently been uprooted. All were pulled out of the ground and left to die inside the tree-guard. What do we tell our children when their work is seen to be of so little importance? From where do volunteers get their incentive and energy when their hard work is constantly vandalised? Anne Doran

PLANNING FOR GREATER ROAD SAFETY NEAR THE STORE

Time to walk the dog and pick up the mail and have a chat to Sue and Greig, but there was something different in the area opposite the store – survey-

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ors! They were only too glad to tell me that they were, in response to concerns raised both by residents and the Somers Residents’ Association, engaged in the process of developing a range of options to improve road safety in Somers. This was confirmed by Mornington Peninsula Shire Communications Officer, Todd Trimble. Todd said that the Shire had allocated $5000 in the 2004/05 budget to investigate options, and that following community consultation and a public exhibition period, the preferred option will be part of the 2005/06 capital works budget considerations. If successful the works will be programmed for the 2005/06 year. Rod Nuske

SHORT STORY COMPETITION The inaugural Somers Paper Nautilus Short Story Competition was launched on 17 October, 2004 at the Somers Primary School Arts Fair. The competition was open to anyone at the fair who accepted an entry form, i.e. not only to residents of Somers. There were four categories: Up to 8 years (‘If I were a little red truck’ – prize a $25 book voucher); 9-12 years (‘If Hogwarts came to Somers $25 book voucher); 13-16 years (‘When I am Prime Minister – $30 cash); and the adult section (choice of topic – $50 cash). Almost one third of the adult entries came from outside Somers, so all you aspiring writers in Somers, get your fingers tapping for next year’s competition – you’ve got rivals from afar! Well-known writer Garry Disher agreed to judge the competition for

us. Garry, who lives near Balnarring, is the author of many award-winning and widely translated literary, crime and children’s novels, the writer’s handbook Writing Fiction and the Inspector Challis mysteries, which are set on the Mornington Peninsula. Many thanks to Garry Disher. The winning entries are: Up to 8 years – ‘If I Were a Big Red Truck’ by Chelsea Haynes (8); 9-12 years – ‘If Hogwarts Came to Somers’ by Jacob Yaghmoor (year 5); 13-16 years – no entries; and in the adult section, ‘The Honey Man’ by Craig Mason from Flinders. Also in the adult section, ‘Outwitted’ by I. Hackett of Balnarring was highly commended. Congratulations to you all! Louise Craig

KOALAS AND KIDNEYS

Early in November a mother koala, with her baby on her back, was seen licking the roadway in our street. A resident (Marcia) brought out a bowl of water, from which the koala drank thirstily while it was still in Marcia’s hand. After refilling the bowl, Marcia then poured water slowly into the gut-

ter and the koala continued to drink and licked the roadway even after the water was finished, baby clinging on all the while. The koala seemed undisturbed by several people milling around, or even by passing vehicles, so keen was she to get a drink. Realising this was unusual behaviour I rang Jenny Bryant who straightaway recognised the symptoms of kidney disease. She came with a ladder and cage and rescued mother and baby and took them home to care for them, not expecting mother to live for much longer. If you see a distressed or injured koala, don’t try to handle it (you may get hurt), but please ring Jenny Bryant (0417 395 883) or Wildlife Care Network (0500 540 000) or Help for Wildlife (0417 380 687). Louise Craig 9

If I Were A Big Red Truck I am not a big red truck, I am a cute little red truck. One day I might grow up to be a big red truck like my father, but right now I am just a little truck. I am a remote control truck, and my job is to carry plastic people around in Anna’s room. Anna is my owner. She is very nice and plays with me a lot. Anna is eight years old and very pretty, except at the moment she has lost her two front teeth and I am carrying them around with me now instead of plastic people. Anna says they are very special because she will get money for them from the tooth fairy if she puts them under her pillow. That night when it was bedtime, Anna put me in my little wooden doll’s bed on her bedside table next to her bed. Anna brushed her teeth, said goodnight to her Mum, Dad and her Grandpa before slipping into her PJs and jumped into bed. Anna could not wait for the tooth fairy, and she could not get to sleep. As we all know the tooth fairy comes at midnight. Anna soon was fast asleep. Without making any noise at all, the tooth fairy appeared and left two, one hundred dollar notes under Anna’s pillow and as she was leaving cast a spell on me. I came alive! I could move without the remote control. I could move forwards and backwards and turn around all by myself. In the morning Anna woke up and the first thing she did was look under her pillow. She let out a little squeal of happiness when she saw the money. Then she saw me turn around on the bedside table all by myself. She said “How did you do that?” I said “The Tooth Fairy cast a spell on me last night!” Anna said “You must keep this a secret. Okay?” Anna got ready for school and then said “I have to go to school now. You

better behave yourself. Remember it’s a secret.” The Little Red Truck heard Anna leave so he decided to explore the bedroom. He tried to go under the bed like he used to, but he didn’t fit. He thought that’s a bit strange because he could usually fit under it easily. Then he realised that he had grown and was getting bigger. When Anna got home from school she was amazed at what she saw. She said to me that because I was getting so big, I would have to go into the backyard. Now I live outside because I have grown into a big red truck and I spend the days driving around collecting the garbage and at night talking to Anna about our secret. CHELSEA HAYNES

Grade 2

THE HONEY MAN As his horse and cart moved slowly along the quiet country road at one o’clock that morning, the Honey Man hummed a tune that seemed to fit with the rhythm of the horse’s hooves striking the tar. It would be easy to think that he was happy, because he was: forty beehives sat on the tray of the cart, forty hives full of healthy, beautiful bees, bees that were ready to work, ready to make honey from the ironbark forest that was to be their new home by first light tomorrow. The Honey Man had loaded the hives early that evening, and was now only an hour away from a small clearing in the bush where he would set them down and let them begin their work in

making box ironbark honey, the best in the world. As he hummed his tune, the bees provided a constant, low-pitched drone. This, combined with the glassy crunch of the cart’s wheels in the loose gravel at the edge of the road, was hypnotic to the Honey Man, and so it wasn’t until he was passing a driveway to a house that the sounds of a party in full swing came crashing to his ears: the thump thump of the bass, the chirping of glasses, and the laughter of people having fun. Good for them, thought the Honey Man, as he, his horse and half-a-million bees passed by unnoticed. Meanwhile, Sara was walking down

IF HOGWARTS CAME TO SOMERS !!!!! “AAAARRRGGGHHH!!!” screamed all the witches, wizards and students running like crazy. “Everyone out of the castle immediately!!” Dumbledore yelled over the huge sound of magic and screaming. They did what Dumbledore said, and they were out of the castle in no more than two minutes. They all jumped on a boat and tried to stay calm as they sailed through the mist, looking back on the destroyed Hogwarts castle. When they are back in London everyone is told to move as far away as their parents would go. Harry, Hermione and Ron’s family decide to move to Somers in Australia. One day when they were going for a walk to the Somers General Store they see a flyer, the flyer said: Hogwarts School Of Witchcraft And Wizardry is moving to Australia in a small town in Victoria called Somers!! “We have to go back!!!” yelled Harry with glee. “Definitely!” the other two yelled excitedly.

In six months and 24 days the new Hogwarts was up and built. The three friends went to try out to get in. Two weeks after their interview they got an invitation to come back to Hogwarts. “Yes!!!!!” they all screamed. “SHHHHH!!” whispered the shopkeeper Peter. The first week they were there, three paintings were stolen. Dumbledore was thinking of taking Hogwarts back to London after the wizard murderers were in jail if the paintings kept getting stolen. But the three friends said that they would find the culprit or culprits and turn them in; they promised. “Okay,” Dumbledore says in a defeated voice. The next day all three of them start looking for clues at the General Store. They asked the owner Peter if he had seen anything suspicious, he looked at us and he started sweating and looked really uncomfortable when he heard the question. “Are you okay Peter, you look a bit tired and sick?” Harry 10

asked. “Nothing. I’m fine,” he said shaking. “Okay then,” Harry replied. That night the three of them snuck out to look for more clues, and gee did they find a big one. They ran into the man who was stealing the paintings. “Peter!!!!!” They yelled puzzled. Ron jumped up and got him in an arm lock. When they got to Dumbledore’s office Dumbledore was as puzzled as they were. “Why you Peter, why you, why did you do it,” Dumbledore asked sadly. “I did it because I wanted to get you back for not letting me be a teacher. I tried my hardest to get in.” he replied. “I have called the police, I am sorry Peter,” Dumbledore practically mumbled in sadness. When Peter was taken away Dumbledore said that Hogwarts could stay in Somers forever. JACOB YAGHMOOR Year 5

that same road. Her boyfriend Tim – or rather, her ex-boyfriend Tim – had embarrassed her at the party. Worse still, he had used her to make his friends laugh. She didn’t know what he’d said, but it didn’t matter because she had known before they’d left for the party that this would be their last outing as a couple. She was quite sure that Tim had no idea how irreparable their relationship had become. As Sara walked down the road, she tried not to think about him, or what she’d do tomorrow, or what had become of her dreams, her hopes, her future. Her future: that was hers again, she realised. She could do anything. As this realisation sunk in, she heard a noise. Alarmed, she turned and looked behind her. It was a horse. * Woken from his trance by the noise of the party, the Honey Man noticed that the three-quarter moon was now high in the night sky, and was so bright that it made the stars disappear. The magpies, unable to sleep owing to the moonlight, were warbling loudly to each other in the trees along the side of the road, their voices echoing in the warm night air. The horse sniffed the air twice without missing a pace, its head raised and looking into the distance. The Honey Man, alerted by the horse, noticed movement ahead, a person walking along the road. As he drew nearer, he saw that it was a young woman, who stopped walking and faced them. She was dressed as if for a party. The horse drew alongside her and stopped of its own accord. ‘Where are you going?’ she asked, looking up at the Honey Man. ‘Not far,’ he replied. ‘Just up the road a bit, then through the bush and down near the river.’ Sara climbed aboard, the horse moving on again when she was seated. The rest of the journey was spent in silence, the horse finally turning off onto a dirt track, again without the guidance of the reins. As they travelled through the bush, Sara noticed that the air was fragrant with the sweet smell of flowering

gums, and every now and then the smell of the sweating horse came strongly to her nose. The moonlight through the trees patterned the horse’s back as though it had been covered in a moving blanket of lace. The horse stopped. Sara realised they had come to a clearing that was as long as it was wide, with a large tree in the centre. The Honey Man got off the cart and unhitched the horse. ‘What happens now?’ Sara asked. ‘Well, I’ve got a bit to do, but I think you should get some sleep,’ he replied, walking around to the back of the cart. ‘I’ll set up the swag for you, if you don’t mind sleeping in my bed tonight,’ he went on, untying his swag. Sara didn’t know what he meant by sleeping in his bed. Was it just that, or was he asking her to share his bed for the night? She wanted to ask what he meant, but didn’t want to sound childish or even forward, so she sat and watched as the Honey Man cleared a spot on the ground a short way from the cart and unrolled the swag. When he’d finished, he looked at her and said, ‘There you go, hop in.’ Sara looked at him. The shadow of a branch fell across his face, but his eyes were shining in the moonlight, and somehow this made her feel at ease. She walked over, took off her shoes, and slid into the swag. The cold lining made her shiver a little, but with one deep breath her goosebumps subsided. As she relaxed she realised just how tired she was and turned her head down into the swag. The smell of sweat: his sweat was strong, but sweet, and Sara felt her heart begin to race. The smell of his sweat was so nice that she couldn’t help taking deep breaths, sampling, tasting, and enjoying the smell of this man. She didn’t know why, but his smell excited her. It was then that sleep overtook her, and she drifted off with thoughts of her newfound freedom and her new future. The Honey Man spent the rest of the night unloading his bees one hive at a time from the cart. He wheeled them out into the clearing, placing them at equal distances apart and fac11

ing in the same direction. As he did this he was constantly talking to the bees in a low whisper, and the bees hummed back gently. By sunrise, the last hive was in place. Sara woke to find the sun up but not high, and the horse sniffing and licking her shoes. When she stirred to examine her surroundings, the horse snorted and walked away. The cart was empty, the beehives were arranged around the large tree in the centre of the clearing, but the Honey Man was nowhere to be seen. She slid her legs out of the swag and reached for her shoes, but they were still wet from the horse, so she decided to go barefoot. There was a billy simmering on a small gas stove near the cart, and next to it two cups, one with a teabag and honey in it, the other with coffee grounds. Sara poured water in with the tea and let it draw, then added milk from a small bottle that had been cooling nearby under a bunch of damp gum leaves. Sitting on a stump near the cart, she sipped her tea, thinking what a beautiful life she had. She rubbed her cup against her face: it was too hot to keep there for long, but it was something she always did, it made her feel nice in the mornings. The sun was streaming in through the trees now, warming her legs, arms and face. She closed her eyes and let her body absorb the lovely golden heat. The horse raised its head from the grass it had been softly cropping, turned, and whinnied. Sara looked in the same direction and saw, in the distance, the Honey Man walking through the bush towards the camp. As he got closer, she saw that he had a fishing rod in one hand and three fish in the other. The Honey Man walked to the back of the cart and, taking out a heavy frying pan, placed the fish in it and sat it on the burner of the stove. Then, while the fish cooked, he took out another cup and three plates. Sara noticed, and asked, ‘Who are they for?’ ‘They’re for Jack,’ said the Honey Man, as he turned the fish. At that moment, the horse looked toward the track from the road and

snorted. Sara saw that an old man was walking towards them with the aid of a stick. When he reached the cart, the Honey Man went to him, one hand extended, and they shook hands warmly and looked at each other while exchanging greetings. As they broke away, the Honey Man turned to Sara. ‘Sara, this is Jack, Jack, this is Sara.’ Sara dropped her cup. It bounced off a stick and flicked onto its side. ‘How did you know my name?’ she demanded, looking at the Honey Man. It was Jack who answered. ‘It’s a bit of a shock, isn’t it? He did it with me, too, you know. He told me the bees let him know. I think he’s bullshitting. I bet he got your cuppa right, too.’ Sara nodded, but didn’t take her eyes off the Honey Man. ‘Is that true?’ ‘Yes,’ said the Honey Man. His grey eyes locked with hers, and although she saw his lips move, she was feeling the words enter her head through her eyes. ‘The bees told me about you.’ Jack walked over to her and bent down to pick up her cup. ‘It’s okay,’ he said, as he rose, ‘it’s just what he does.’ Sara smiled weakly and thanked him. ‘How do you have your cuppa?’

called Jack as he went over to the cart. The Honey Man answered. ‘Tea, with half a spoon of honey.’ He was looking at Sara as he said it. She nodded her agreement, and he smiled and turned back to the fish in the pan. A moment later, Jack returned with a fresh cup of tea for her, and a plate with a small golden perch on it. ‘It’s okay, he’s not dangerous,’ he said, looking into her eyes and taking her young hand in his old wrinkly one. ‘He just knows the bees, he reckons the bees can, and will, tell you all you want and need to know. He reckons the bees are the smartest creatures on earth. He reckons the bees are his best friends. I reckon he’s been stung too much.’ The Honey Man was walking amongst his hives, cup in one hand, plate in the other. Every now and then he would put the cup down on a hive and eat some fish, then walk on to the next hive, moving a stick from the entrance to a hive with his foot. As he walked, the air around him got thicker with bees until he seemed to be walking through a thick black fog. Suddenly he stopped, turned and walked towards the cart, the cloud of bees following. He sat his plate and cup down on the cart and looked at Sara, who had been watching in amazement. She’d never seen so many

bees. They were on his arms, hands, face and legs. He was covered in bees, and twice as many were flying around him. ‘There is a young man called Tim looking for you out on the main road,’ said the Honey Man. ‘What do you want to do?’ Sara suddenly remembered last night, why she had been walking, how she had come to be here with this man, this man of bees, this Honey Man. ‘Tell him to go away and leave me alone,’ she said. At these words, all of the bees that were on and around the Honey Man rose into the air and flew across the clearing in the direction of the main road, and Tim. CRAIG MASON

AN OLD CHEROKEE TEACHING An old Cherokee is teaching his grandson about life. “A fight is going on inside me,” he said to the boy. “It is a terrible fight and it is between two wolves. “One is evil. He is anger, envy, sorrow, regret, greed, arrogance, selfpity, guilt, resentment, inferiority, lies, self-pride, superiority and ego. “The other is good. He is joy, peace, love, hope, serenity, humility, kindness, benevolence, empathy, generosity, truth, compassion and faith. “This same fight is going on inside you and inside every other person too.” The grandson thought about it for a minute and then asked his grandfather, “Which wolf will win?” The old Cherokee simply replied: “The one you feed.”

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LORD SOMERS CAMP CELEBRATES 75 YEARS The not-for-profit youth organisation, Lord Somers Camp and Power House (LSC&PH) began in 1929 when the Governor of Victoria, Lord Somers, ran a camp for young men based on the Duke of York camps in England. The original concept of running camps which bring together youth from all walks of life to develop greater tolerance and understanding has been retained and remains one of the major objectives of LSC&PH. 2004, being 75 years after 1929, has been celebrated by the organisation with several special anniversary events. The aim of these events was to celebrate 75 years of commitment to voluntary community service and to publicise the youth programs and achievements of LSC&PH to the wider community. The year commenced with a revitalised 'Open Day' held on 1 February 2004 following the annual January Lord Somers Camp for boys and Lady Somers Camp for girls, aged 16-18. Parents of participants at the January camps came from far and wide, as well as members of the local community, for the day which provided lots of information in a carnival like atmosphere. The date for the 2005 Open Day is Sunday 6 February and members of the local Somers community are cordially invited to attend. The annual Founders Day Dinner was held on 20 March, the birth date of Lord Somers. A huge crowd assembled for the dinner which was addressed by James Hervey-Bathurst, grandson of Lord Somers. James came out from England especially for the event. As a significant number of LSC&PH members live interstate, celebratory dinners were also held in Sydney and on the Sunshine Coast and a special dinner was held on Palm Island as young indigenous people

from Palm Island have been participants in the annual January camps each year since 2002. A four-day getaway to Healesville was another special event organised during the year for members and friends who enjoyed activities such as golf, tennis and wine tasting. On 14 October 2004, a special event to thank the various supporters and friends of LSC&PH was held at the clubhouse beside Albert Park Lake. New banners depicting the various programs of the organisation had been made prior to this event. They provided a vibrant display as well as informing the community of the various aspects of community service provided by LSC&PH. A special luncheon was held on 21 November, for the most senior members. It was hosted by several younger members of LSC&PH. Those invited were over eighty years of age and to acknowledge their contribution to the organisation, they were presented with an OBE (Over Bloody Eighty) award certificate! The younger members provided transport for those who can no longer drive as well as serving the food and cleaning up afterwards. A feature of the LSC&PH organi-

sation is that its volunteers range in age from 18 to 80 and hence the intergenerational relationships that develop while providing voluntary service are rather unique. A highlight for LSC&PH during its 75th year came on 1 July, Victoria Day, when it received The Victoria Day Award for Public and Community Service by a Victorian Based Organisation. It was especially pleasing for its members to receive acknowledgement of their achievements during its 75th anniversary year. The Kokoda Track walk was a most significant event held during 2004. This walk by 36 members and friends acknowledged the strong links with past members who fought along the track during WWII. It was an emotional journey which the participants have shared with a broad range of members, and the media attention informed the wider community. Lord Somers Camp and Power House is most grateful for the assistance that it has received over its 75 years from a wide range of community members and organisations. The energy and enthusiasm of its younger members mean that it is extremely well placed to continue providing its personal development and leadership programs for young people for another 75 years. Ian Gibson General Manager

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A STORY OF A SAILING WIFE The following story by Cecelia Robeson was written by her in the 70s and only recently rediscovered by her. As we both have a common interest in the boat featured in her story, Cecelia sent me a copy of the document. The story is of her courage in accompanying her husband and two children in a 13ft Heron class dinghy called Seadeb on a journey to Point Leo and back, on a terrible day, in a boat that had

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been designed to accommodate just one adult and one child (or wife). Years later my wife Pauline and I purchased the boat from the Robesons and we sailed across to Cowes (sans children) in the company of other club members in calm, warm conditions. We even had to get out of our boats and pull them over the sandbank next to the channel before sailing into Cowes.

Before we returned however, the weather changed and we then had to cope with rough, dark and ominous conditions. How brave of both Pauline and Cecelia to get back into those boats for the return journey. (That stipulation is certainly not included in any marriage service!) Pauline in particular was well aware of my inadequacies as a sailor, and as we came in past Sandy Point she sat in the bottom of Seadeb praying silently for our safe return ‘from the perils of the sea’. Rod Nuske

ALL AT SEA AND UP IN THE AIR She didn’t want to go to sea. She most definitely didn’t want to go to sea. Not today. Not in these grey and gusty conditions. Her sailing weather was sunshine, blue skies, sparkling water, and a friendly wind. But her husband, a flag officer of their Yacht Club did want his family to sail to Point Leo together in their Heron yacht. She didn’t ask their 11-year-old son and 9-year-old daughter whether they wanted to sail; she just said matter-of-factly that they were all going with Dad. She had confidence in his seamanship and safety awareness, but her spirits dropped as she listened to the strong wind and saw the overcast skies and tossing seas. Her hands reluctantly assembled the ingredients for their lunch; the pieces of cake and fruit and the confounded sandwiches. She packed them into watertight containers. Her husband checked their slickers and their lifejackets. The radio played in the background, with the adults waiting for the latest weather forecast, which was not at all encouraging. But – all of a sudden – she heard that infectious piece of music: ‘Those magnificent men in their flying machines’. Her spirits soared, energy and enthusiasm surged through her body, 14

from tapping feet upward. Her final packing was done in no time at all. Up at the yacht club people mooched about, looking at the angry waves, listening to the roaring wind. The hardy ones thought about rigging their boats. A seasoned old salt put to sea, to test the waters, returning with his verdict: “Those not confident go by road”. Well, of course, her husband was very confident. Didn’t he have salt water in his veins? The non-confident people walked away to their cars. Her family got their boat from the club yard down to the beach. “All hands to the pump.” (Well, not literally. That happened on the way home.) But everyone had to work his or her passage. Threading her sails along the halyard, running them up in the incessant wind was not easy. Neither was launching the boat in the breaking waves. First the kids were put on board, herself next, then her husband heaving himself aboard, while controlling the tiller and hauling on the sheets (ropes, to landlubbers). Her job was to look after the jib, the smaller of the two sails. The four of them had to keep the boat balanced at all times. The water spraying over them was

icy cold, the wind freezing the water on their faces and hands. Veer onto this tack, now onto that. Tedious it was. Thanks be to God for those ‘magnificent men in their flying machines’ and the energy they induced. Her hands were frozen to the sheets, her whole body frozen. She didn’t know how she would ever get out of the boat. Fall out, stiff, most likely! Willing hands steadied the boat as it ran up onto the beach after a very long journey, and she got out clumsily. It was sheer bliss to sit on the sun-warmed deck of the host clubhouse, out of the biting wind. Her hands numbly clasped themselves around four successive cups of hot tea. After an extended lunch the return journey had to be faced – the daughter wisely returned by road. On the return journey the boisterous wind hit them with full force as they moved out from the protection of the small headland. The waves rose on either side of considerable troughs of unfriendly water. They slapped against the boat and some slopped into it. She could see the home clubhouse in the far distance, and a welcome sight it was. But she

had to concentrate on the job at hand which was to control the rope which controlled the jib. Be ever ready to change tack, to ‘go about’ even though this seemed to take them away from that clubhouse. Very soon she realised that she never wanted to hear that expression ‘go about’ again, not ever. Her very bones were soon chilled, but that was nothing new, not today. More and more water slopped into the boat from the relentless waves. “Get the pump going, Cis,” so she hauled up the yellow plastic pump and began working the centre plunger up and down. The son took over the jib sheet. “Mind the water doesn’t end up in the boat again.” What a hope! As fast as she pumped the water out, the wind blew it back, or the boat leaned so that the water hit the gunwale and fell back into it. “Mind that cord doesn’t get sucked into the pump,” so she looked down. Too late! It was nearly all sucked up into the pump. There was an added chill in the atmosphere, and her son using the plastic bucket tied to a mast then did all the baling. Faster boats that had left later soon overtook them. Lucky beggars! But another Heron,

NEW PROBUS CLUB FOR SOMERS? The local Rotary Club (Hastings – Westernport) was recently approached by a number of retired residents of Somers to survey interest in forming a new combined Probus Club based in the Somers area. (Rotary takes on the responsibility of establishing Probus Clubs and nurturing them until they are strong enough to be autonomous.) Currently there are four Probus Clubs in the Somers/Balnarring area: Somers Ladies, Balnarring Ladies, Balnarring Men and Balnarring Combined. All these clubs, except Balnarring Men, have full membership and waiting lists to join. The Balnarring Combined club was

formed only in September 2003 and within months it closed its membership at 100. It is considered likely therefore that there will be considerable support for another combined club in the locality. The Rotary Club has arranged a meeting of interested retired professional and business people in the R.W. Stone Pavilion (off Camp Hill Road) at 10am on Friday, 14th January. All are welcome to attend the meeting. People wishing to register an interest in a new club and/or learn more about Probus should contact Rotarian Bob Summers on 5983 1943 or [email protected] 15

sailed by father and daughter, was keeping closer into the shore. “Look at Tom and Ailsa,” she said. “They’re not doing all the tacking that we are.” Hours of tacking, ‘going about’, and being cold, loomed in front of her. Her husband studied the waves very carefully and used them and the tide to calculate their sailing course. Drearily, wearily they plodded on. Eventually they were close to journey’s end, but she dreaded this coming ashore. Waves crashing onto the beach. No time to dawdle over procedures. She’d rather park in Collins Street any day. Friends came to help steady the boat and she heaved her cold body over the gunwale. Terra firma! Lovely beach! Lovely home! Get the boat up to make room for other arrivals; and here come Tom and Ailsa. We help them and compare notes. Tom laughed and told us that Ailsa said: “Look at Mr and Mrs Robeson. They’re doing much better than we are.” Much later she was given a muchprized trophy for: Going to sea in a howling easterly gale. Cecelia Robeson

MAGGIE A little dog has come into our life Bringing little trouble or strife Just loads of laughter and joy Oh, I forgot this dog is a girl, not a boy A fluffy little Shih Tzu cross She doesn’t even want to be boss. With long eyelashes and big brown eyes she stares Knowing full well she’ll find someone who cares. Down the beach with Gordon her best friend She wants to see what is around the next bend Frolicking through the seaweed and the sand We know she really is the best dog in the land! Judy Jeffs

The Shared Pathway

Residents travelling along Lord Somers Road would have seen a pathway being installed from the Education Camp to the junction with Sandy Point Road. The next section to be made (finance permitting) will be from the

junction along Sandy Point Road to Balnarring. There are several interesting small bridges which take the rider/walker up and over the tree roots projecting into the pathway, which at least for the moment, goes nowhere in particular.

MORE ABOUT COAL AT SOMERS Relating to the article (SPN, August 20004) about the source of the coal often found on Somers beach, the following article may be of interest: The South Bourke and Mornington Journal in 1889 reported that boring for coal was going on in the neighbourhood of Sandy Point. The estate on which the speculative work was being done was that of Mr. Teasdale, which was sold during the recent land boom at a satisfactory price. The syndicate who purchased the beautiful property, with exalted notions peculiar to the period, expressed their intentions of erecting a coffee palace, and also that the land was to be surveyed and cut up into suitable blocks for a township. These dreams however passed away and a nightmare ensued as the boom gradually subsided and became a thing of the past. It was then considered in the na-

ture of the country and other circumstances, that coal existed on the ground, and consequently a few gentlemen, residents in the locality, and with more solid and practical views:Messrs Benn, Mears and Ham, combined for the purpose of testing the ground. Work was carried on for some months but was not attended with any success. It was also very slow work as they were somewhat unfortunate in striking a very hard species of stone, so hard that the bore sometimes got fixed in the rock, leading to a great loss of time and labour. It was not only the formation of the ground that led to the belief that coal was to be found, but the fact that large quantities of coal were scattered along the beach confirmed this opinion and led to the investment. The difficulties that had to be encountered were found to be so 16

Liz and children Eleanor and Josephine are most anxious that the shared pathway will be available soon, so they can have the fun of riding on a very attractive track along Lord Somers Road. Eventually they should be able to cycle to do their main shopping in Balnarring! great that the project was reluctantly abandoned. It is asserted on very good authority that the coal found on the shore came from either wrecked or distressed ships, and is not in any way connected with the land on the coast. Be that as it may, had their efforts been crowned with success, it would not only have been a matter of local importance, but one concerning the colony at large, as a coal field on the shores of Western Port would be of inestimable value. James Teasdale’s property is now called Western Park. It was bought by this syndicate during the land boom for 30 Pounds an acre. By 1889, David Ham had control of the property, if not outright ownership. John Benn was the owner of Coolart. The third gentleman, named as Mears, was almost certainly David Mairs, who owned all the land between Western Park and Coolart, which later became the township of Somers. Researched by Rod Nuske

THE KOALA COAST We all enjoy the experience of being close to wild animals. Tourists and scientists travel from many foreign countries to share the delights of seeing Australia’s unique animals, the Koala being one of the most popular and easily recognised. But this harmless animal has had a difficult time of it over the years. In 1934 there were approximately 500 left in Victoria and it was thought they would become extinct in this State. The Koala now stands a better chance, but it is totally dependant on suitable types and numbers of forest trees. On the Mornington Peninsula the habitat for Koalas has shrunk dramatically with the loss of trees. The population is now largely restricted to a few narrow Coastal Reserves and neighbouring private land on the south of the Peninsula. Old trees that have supported Koalas for so long are now being over-browsed and are beginning to die. There is a need to re-

place these trees for the Koala to survive, otherwise it may disappear completely from the Mornington Peninsula in a few short years. A large part of the responsibility to restore the habitat of the Koala lies with the local community. Residents can assist by planting suitable trees where they have room on their properties and by assisting group planting days in local Reserves where tree planting is being done. By planting the Koala’s favourite trees we can ensure the future is secure for this endearing creature. The main food trees are the coastal Manna Gum (Eucalyptus pryoriana) found in sandy, well-drained soils and Swamp Gum (Eucalyptus ovata) commonly found in wet soils. They are relatively large trees and need enough space for roots and foliage to spread as they get older. Neighbours can sometimes share several trees on adjoining back fences where space allows. Somers Primary School has a program of growing these trees and contact should be made with the school to make a purchase.

New Fire Station Underway!

BITTERN In the Bible, Isaiah 14.23, the Lord God foresees the destruction of Babylon, and says: ‘I shall also make Babylon a possession for the bittern, and for pools of water.’ In the Oxford English Dictionary, ‘bittern’ derives from bos taurus (‘oxbull’), a bird allied to the herons, but smaller, which uses a ‘boom’, ‘boom’, ‘boom’ sound during its breeding season, and has been called the ‘bull of the bog’, in Neville Cayley’s What Bird is That? He gives its other names as ‘Australian bittern’, ‘Black-backed bittern’, ‘Boomer’, and ‘Bull bird’, often mistaken for the legendary Bunyip. But on plate xxxiii, the Mangrove bittern seems to be the right bird, with its blackish wings and appearance in India and China, unlike the Brown bittern, spotted and much larger and restricted to Australian waters. The most southerly mangroves in the world are growing profusely all along this coast from Jack’s Beach to Hastings. There is also a local swamp pigeon or cuckoo that makes almost the same sound, and when one or the other starts booming, residents of Bittern first imagine that a pump has just been installed nearby. Two bitterns regularly feed on the wide nature-strip alongside properties on Davies Street, very attractive on their long yellow legs with yellow beaks and grey/black coat-tails and black and white heads. John Martyn

“The real voyage of discovery consists not in seeking new landscapes, but in having new eyes.” Those residents regularly travelling along Camphill Rd will now be able to watch with interest as our new and much anticipated firestation takes shape. 17

Marcel Proust

WHERE HAVE ALL THE VOLCANOES GONE? If you stand on the cliff top in front of the Somers Store, looking southwards down the Western Passage you will observe the prominent cliffs of the Older Volcanics, extending from Balnarring to West Head. Exposures of weathered older basalt are also visible on the shore platform at Somers when the tide is low. The coast of nearby Phillip Island is also composed of this ancient basaltic lava and interbedded volcanic ash/ tuff where the most recognizable topographic feature is an eroded rounded remnant (not a volcano) called the Nobbies. Spectacular cliffs west of Cape Schanck comprise several basaltic lava flows with interbedded volcanic ash and old soil horizons, best seen looking to the east from where Selwyn’s Fault cuts the Bass Strait shoreline. The measured maximum thickness of the Older Volcanics is about 400 metres in the

southern Cape Schanck to Flinders section, which perhaps suggests subsidence at the time of volcanic activity. This dark coloured mafic volcanic sequence (mafic=magnesium+iron or fe-rich) was poured out from ancient volcanoes around 45 million years ago in the Middle Eocene, after a long period of crustal rifting which started about 100 million years ago, when the Australian continent finally split from Antarctica. This event of course marked the breaking up of the super continent called Gondwanaland comprising Australia, Antarctica, India, Africa and South America. The Australian landmass is still drifting in a northeasterly direction at about 70mm per year (70 km per million years) and is eventually destined to collide with the Asian continent in the far distant future. Imagine the political ramifications of this event,

but we probably do not need to worry about it at this stage if you make some calculations! Basalt is extruded at the earth’s surface as very fluid molten rock or magma at around 1300 degrees Celsius, where it originates in the upper part of the mantle, which could be as deep as 75 km beneath thick continental crust. This basaltic magma will rise to the earth’s surface along zones of crustal weakness such as major fractures or rifts. By contrast the oceanic crust averages 8 km thick and is composed of submarine basaltic lava, increasing with age symmetrically away from the spreading centres or mid ocean ridges, providing proof for the theories of continental drift and plate tectonics. On the Mornington Peninsula, all the volcanoes that produced the Older Volcanics have been removed by prolonged erosion since they were formed. The uplift of the Mornington Peninsula horst, bounded by Selwyn’s Fault to the west and the Tyabb Fault to the east also contributed to the wearing away of these ancient volca-

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Quoin Hill on Phillip Island is an extinct “older volcanic” volcano with a composite cone. The core has been mined for basalt for use as road metal over the years. The quarry works are just visible in the photo. The probable size of the volcano is indicated by the lines drawn onto the photograph. noes. However there are still some possible volcanic plugs or throats apparently intruding the basement 480-million-year-old Ordovician slates and metasiltstones of the central Peninsula. Because of its low viscosity basaltic lava readily fills ancient river valleys and this can be seen at Pyramid Rock, Phillip Island where basalt has flowed down valleys on a dissected Devonian granite land surface, thereby burying ancient river gravels. It should also be mentioned that basaltic volcanoes sometimes transport gemstones such as diamonds, sapphires and zircons from deeper down in the mantle/crust. Small sapphires of magmatic/ metamorphic origin and pink zircons of lower crustal felsic or feldspar-rich origin have been recorded in wavewashed black heavy mineral sand at Point Bobbanaring. The author knows of only one definite volcano in this southern region contributing to the Older Volcanic basaltic lava flows and tuffs, where this landform is a mere shadow of its former splendour. This volcanic feature is Quoin Hill, located near the southern coast of Phillip Island where it comprises a hard resistant plug or throat of columnar

basalt surrounded by softer tuff, representing a worn-down volcanic cone (see sketch of a typical basaltic volcano) and currently being rapidly removed by quarrying for bluestone road metal. Other low hills on this part of Phillip Island could very well represent worn-down volcanoes though their former glory has been obliterated by subsequent erosion. There are also several volcanic necks or plugs exposed at low tide on the shore platforms of Lower Cretaceous feldspathic sandstone/arkose (120 million years old) from near Cape Paterson to Townsend Bluff, just east of Inverloch. These are feeders to ancient Eocene volcanoes,

Coolart Plumbing Drainage, Roofing Sewerage Connection Contact Peter Tickell 5983 5936 Mobile: 0407 329 800 19

which intruded the older sedimentary rocks. Again, the volcanoes probably formed impressive cones much higher up on the ancient land surface and have been completely removed by subsequent erosion. Generally speaking basaltic volcanoes are not as explosive compared with other types of volcanoes with more viscous felsic (feldspar-rich) light coloured lava flows, where the former show quiescent periods of basaltic lava flows punctuated by occasional outbursts of pyroclastics (pyro=heat, clastic=fragmental particles) such as volcanic agglomerate, tuff and ash (coarsest to finest particles and closest to furthest from the point of eruption respectively). These relatively lower intensity explosive eruptions will occur provided the rising magma does not come into contact with the water table, an event generating huge volumes of pressurized steam causing a violent explosive eruption, such as Mt Tarawera in New Zealand (erupted in 1886), Mt Gambier in SE South Australia (erupted only 5000 years ago as part of the Newer Volcanics) and Tower Hill, near Warrnambool, Victoria, an impressive Newer Volcanic nested caldera or maar, which erupted around 20,000 years ago. It should be noted that there is still the potential for future volcanic eruptions in the Western Victoria and SE South Australia Newer Volcanic Province but the Eocene volcanoes of the Older Volcanic Series have long since become extinct. D.J. GILBERT

VITOLS CONSTRUCTIONS Brett 0408 037 938 All building aspects

Somers Township. An abbreviated history. What became the Somers/Sandy Point district was known by the Bunarong group of Aboriginal people as Bandygarrup, and was described on an 1842 map as she-oak country with good grass. The first squatters on the run of 10,000 acres which was called Colourt (Coolart) were the Meyrick brothers in 1840. The first lease was granted in 1847, and in 1855 Joseph Hann was granted pre-emptive right to 640 acres with a lease over the rest. This expired in 1864 when the land with the exception of the pre-emptive right, became available for selection. The new owners Sumner and Benn obtained 2000 acres including the pre-emptive right when the land came up for selection in 1864. The owner Robertson in 1923 sold off 1620 acres including the site that was to become Somers. In 1925 the area was known as Balnarring East, when Ron Stone a store-keeper and Estate Agent at Balnarring, responded to a request by property seekers by showing them the cliffs at Balnarring East. He organised a subdivision of 1-acre blocks for 50 pounds each, along what is now known as Tasman Road. Amongst the early purchasers was Geoffrey Rawson (RAN Cmdr Rtd), who went on to write Bligh of the Bounty in 1930 and also Hilda McKinnon, Jim and Hillary Reid and Stan Savige, (who started Legacy and later became General Sir Stanley Savige). The estate was called South Beach Estate and was quickly followed by the Palm Beach Estate in the same year. The Promenade followed in 1927 and the Banksia Estate in 1929. Ron Stone decided to move to Balnarring East, but rejected the offer of a store already built on Alexandra Avenue, and erected his own on the Boulevard in 1926 to provide himself with a view of the sea.

Work on the Garden Square tennis courts began in 1927 and construction of buildings for the Legacy Camp began in 1929 which enabled the Education Department to rent a room for use as the Somers School (4458) until a purpose-built school was erected on Camp Hill Road in 1957. The year 1931 saw both the donation of Coolart land to allow the Lord Somers Camp to be built on Merricks Creek and the renaming of the township to Somers in honour of the very popular Governor of Victoria. The much longed for electricity supply was achieved on Christmas Eve in 1935, when at an official ceremony, Ron Stone’s wife Gertrude cut the symbolic ribbon. With the commencement of the Second World War the Government took over land from Coolart to build the No.1 Initial Training School of the RAAF. When the Japanese threatened Australia it was felt that the beaches at Somers could be a likely invasion area, so trenches and machinegun nests were dug, barbed wire rolled out, and several large gun emplacements constructed. After the war in 1948, the RAAF Camp was transformed into a holiday camp called ‘Feature Holidays’ but as this was not a success it enabled the Immigration Department to take over the camp to provide accommodation for the migrants arriving from warravaged Europe. This proved to be a boon for Ron’s store, until Potts from Tyabb built a store quite close to the camp. About the same time the Somers Fire Brigade came into existence but it was not until 1962 that the fire station was built. A Baby Health and Pre-School Centre together with a library was built near the Fire Brigade in 1956. With the need for migrant accommodation diminishing, the Migrant 20

Camp was then acquired by the Education Department in 1958 to provide a holiday venue for Primary School children from all over Victoria, and is still a well-used facility which has had considerable improvements over the years. A church was brought into town in several pieces in 1958 and erected at the corner of Camp Hill and Tasman Roads. Church services were held there, and three weddings celebrated before it was sold in 1978, and converted into a private residence in Tasman Road. New tennis courts and cricket oval together with a community hall were established in 1979 and the facility called the R.W. Stone Reserve in honour of Ron Stone who had provided the main driving force that helped to establish the early Somers township. The Shire of Hastings developed a swampy area opposite the Education Camp in 1991 and created the Koala Reserve. Finally in 2004 the township was sewered. The Flinders Naval Depot: Work commenced in 1912; Opening Ceremony in 1920. Commissioned as HMAS Cerberus in 1921. Reference: All Our Somers by Bruce Bennett.

The Pavilion Needs Our Support Renovations are planned for the Somers Pavilion but the management does not have the required money to carry out the work. Our support is needed, so why not make more use of the Pavilion for your events? It costs just $5 per hour to hire and $100 per evening for an event. Let’s get behind the drive to make the Pavilion more user-friendly. To hire the Pavilion please contact Geoff Griffiths on 5983 1836.

Lord Somers Camp, Power House and WWII Members of Lord Somers Camp and Power House have just returned from a seven-day hike along the Kokoda Track in tribute to members who fell in the battle against the Japanese advance in 1942. Looking into the history of the young men who attended camps in Somers in the 1930s, and their involvement in the war, I have put together the following information: The camp creed: to bring together boys from Public and State Schools so that they would become aware of their mutual dependence and so work together for the common good. The first camp chief Dr Cecil (Doc) McAdam who together with Lord Somers was the originator of the camp concept, was concerned about the security of Australia in the late 1930s, so he encouraged camp members to enlist in the services. He approached the Commanding Officer of the 14th Battalion and arranged that a company be set aside as a Lord Somers Camp Company. By the outbreak of war their strength was up to 130, and at this time they were given guard duties at major Defence Establishments. In 1940, 20 of them joined the 2/14th Btn. and became part of the force that halted the Japanese on the Kokoda Track whilst a further 20 joined the 2/21st Btn., most of whom were killed in Ambon in 1942. In 1943 the remainder went to New Britain where they helped thrust back the Japanese from Jacquinot Bay almost to Rabaul before the war ended in 1945. There are 72 names on the Honour Board at the camp of servicemen who died whilst members of the Forces, including the famous fighter pilot Keith (Bluey) Truscott who attended a Somers camp in 1935 and was a footballer with the 1939 Premiership Melbourne Club. Keith enlisted in 1940 and trained in Canada. He joined 452 Squadron flying Spitfires during the Battle of Britain, and destroyed 11 enemy aircraft.

Promoted to Flight Commander he was also awarded the DFC. In January 1942 he was posted back to Australia and awarded a bar to his DFC. Before leaving for New Guinea and No. 76 Squadron flying Kittyhawks, he played a last game for Melbourne, and when asked afterwards if he would play again he replied, “No fear, it’s far too dangerous!” He shot down a further five enemy planes over New Guinea and became Squadron Commander before being posted to WA where he was killed in a training accident in March 1943. The written history of the camp tells of many other courageous service members including one who survived the conflict, Andrew (Nicky) Barr. Andrew was CO of the RAAF Desert Squadron in Libya where he was credited with shooting down 12 enemy planes. He was shot when attempting to pick up a wounded comrade behind enemy lines, and although wounded, walked and finally rode back on a camel through enemy lines, dressed in flowing robes. Awarded a DFC for his exploits he was again shot down in 1943 and crashed in the middle of a tank battle, but was rescued and hospitalised in Tobruk, afterwards receiving a bar to

his DFC. Shot down yet again near Mersa Matruh, Andrew was badly wounded and taken prisoner, then transferred to Italy where he made repeated attempts to escape. After finally succeeding he led a group of escaped POWs in a series of operations behind enemy lines, and resumed flying duties over Europe. Andrew was then posted as a Commander of a Squadron in the Pacific. For his bravery he was awarded the Military Cross (an unusual award to a member of the Air Force). After the war he took up work in the oilseed industry and for his contribution was awarded an OBE. Under the heading of ‘The quiet man’ his story appeared on the ABC television series ‘Australian Story’ in 2002. At age 89 he is now living a quiet life in Queensland. What an amazing individual! References: 1. Letter from Geoffrey Swan 2. “It’s the only game that counts”, a history of Lord Somers Camp and Power House by Alan Gregory 3. ABC Archives 4. The Australian War Memorial Rod Nuske

SOMERS STATISTICS (From information supplied by the Planning Department of the Mornington Shire.) Year

Population Dwellings

Not permanently occupied

% against total dwellings

1976

443

546

385

70%

1986

763

894

563

63%

1991

883

994

595

64%

2001

1239

1053

528

42%

Estimated total population capacity based on 2.3 residents per household, 2570 residents. Total residential blocks available 1117.

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The Great Victorian Bike Ride

Back row : Steve Clifford, Bernard Rich, Kevin Sack, Robert Graham, Mark Graham. Front: Robert Bartholomew, Heather Buckingham, Ben Clifford, Robin Wise, John Sullivan Why would a man, not having ridden a bike since he acquired a driving licence more than 50 years ago, decide to ride a bike for more than 500 km in a week? Why would one forsake a comfortable home to live in a tent, use outdoor toilets at night and eat canteen-style food? Was it the spin in the brochure promising a relaxing cycling holiday through picturesque country and historic towns; to participate in the country fairs and carnivals that the country folk were preparing for us? For some riders this would have been the experience, but for me it was more a matter of daily survival. A typical day would start by being woken by neighbours at 5.30 am or earlier, dashing to the toilets before the queueing started, washing in a bucket, sorting the things needed for the day’s ride and packing the rest. Then join the line for breakfast in the big marquee. The line would move quickly and by the time I read the “Cycling Morning Herald” (yes the ride had its own newspaper) I would be standing in front of a volunteer ready to serve me. Breakfasts were huge. My favourite was porridge with yoghurt, a sausage, steak or omelette, orange juice, Danish pastry, fruit to take on the ride and coffee. Feeling very comfortable, I could just sit at the table and chat. But the young guns are already on

their bikes, looking splendid in their matching outfits (Lycra Lizards we called them). Riding in teams they could do 40 km/h and be at the next town by 9.30. So it is get moving, wash the dishes and back to the tent. The field that was chockers with tents an hour before is now looking rather sparse. My big tent stands out like a sore thumb. Clean teeth, down with the tent, last minute packing, find the nearest of the 13 baggage trucks and join the line to add my bag to the 700 the semi would carry to the next town. It’s 8.30 and most of the riders have left. We fill our water bottles (the water tastes awful but with that much chlorine it must be safe to drink) and I am pleased to be away so early. But wait, a flat tyre. OK, away by 9.00. Four hours riding, with a few stops for drinks and bananas and I arrive at the lunch destination. Packed lunch is supplied, find a friend and discuss the soreness of bottoms, buy an ice-cream from a vendor, refill water bottles from a big green 5000-litre bladder and off again. Wickedly steep hills – for hours. Many people are walking. Then as we sweep downhill, the most wonderful sight, a city of tents a short distance ahead. The big marquees surrounded by little tents looking like a scene 22

from a fairytale. The euphoria soon vanishes. On entering the site people are everywhere and always in your way. Unable to find a square metre of land for the tent. But wait, a truck is moving some of the Port-a-Loos. With five gone there is enough room for a tent. Pretty close to the rest of the loos but who cares. Find the bags. The numbered bag truck has long since gone. Somewhere in that 10ha paddock was my bag. With rising panic I ask where truck six unloaded. Eventually someone is able to direct me to the place on the far side of the sports ground. I find my bag and lug it to the tent site, trying to remember where it was and hope no one else has taken it (this happened only once). Tent up and it’s time for a nice hot shower, but dinner closes at 8.00 so perhaps skip the shower. A meal, a few drinks at the bar and collapse into the sleeping bag with the knowledge that I have to do it all again the next day. The youngsters have gone to the open-air movie. So tired that I should sleep like a log. Not a bit of it. The neighbour has been celebrating in town and wants to chat loudly with his companion. He responds to my request for quiet but not so the squawking sea birds that seem to circle over the tent. The driver of the nearby semi did warn me that he would be starting to pack up about midnight. “Thanks mate but I have nowhere else to camp.” The loading of his stuff only takes two hours before the big diesel starts. Then the terrifying headlights penetrating the tent. Panic: will the driver notice the little tent close to the edge of the road? Should I bolt for safety? The semi rumbles past and the tail-light glow dies. Now quietness for sleep. Next thing, daylight fills the tent and people are on the move. Another day of riding with a new set of challenges. Did I ever say to myself, “why am I here, what am I doing this for?” Often. But why was I here? Perhaps it was the thrill of being with 8000 like-minded people, the rest of the world being quite irrelevant. Perhaps it was the inspiration of others;

mums, dads and grandads towing small children in trailers. The 7-yearold girl peddling into camp with her proud dad. The 70-year-old lady telling me that a few years back she rode from Alice Springs to Aireys Inlet, 4000km. The blind lady on the tandem. Perhaps it was the people of all ages who would ride up and have a chat. The willingness of people to stop and offer help if anyone seemed to be in trouble. The cheerfulness of the volunteers who were working 12-

hour shifts to look after us. Then there was the Great Ocean Road in brilliant sunshine and free of traffic. However I think the real reason was the challenge. Not since trekking in the Himalayas many years ago had I set myself such a task. Would I have missed it? Not for quids. Those difficulties are now just something to laugh about but the sense of achievement will last for ever. Kevin Sack

A Pensive Journey - Part 3 the curse of the old south road this bitter stench and orchid lust takes the eyes of a wiser man let him down gently with a dry withered vein gravel rash stumps and colossal eyes butterfly wings and a thousand flies a curse of ages taken in stages hallucinate dreams and violent seizures the epitath hitchhiker of the old south road this desolate enigma and acid insist biblical incisions of poison ivy slit wrist hypodermic epidemic of the intrepid traveler weather mended wounds with distasteful grey scars a sly vile reminder of the road with no end this is the curse of the old south road

Attention Yogis! Re-invent yourself – Feel great – Look wonderful – Change yourself.

Dance of Life Yoga

SEWERAGE CONNECTIONS

Yoga practice sessions: 8am – 9.30am Mon 20 – Fri 24 December Mon 27 – Fri 31 December Mon 3 – 7 January $10 per session or $40 per week Please call Eugenie Knox on 5983 9950

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Martin Ascot

How satisfied have you been with the work done by your plumber in connecting your property to the sewerage system? We would like to hear from you as to whether things have gone as well as expected, or perhaps not quite up to the mark. Perhaps there have even been moments of humour. I know that I have been quite pleased with the work of my local plumber and his sub-contractors so hopefully this has been the story for you too. So let us know, and we will print the interesting communications and summarise the rest. Rod Nuske

And the winds did blow!

On Wednesday the 27th of October at 11.30 am, Patsy Coates was in her Tasman Road home making bread, when she and husband Doug heard a great ‘thump’. They rushed outside in the wind and rain, to find that seven very large old cypress trees, along the Tasman Road fence line of their property had crashed onto the roadway bringing down the powerlines with them.

Patsy quickly rang 000 where the operator asked whether she wanted Fire, Ambulance or Police. Patsy explained the situation, but again was asked Fire, Ambulance or Police? A second explanation followed to be answered by the same, Fire, Ambulance or Police? A frustrated Patsy responded with “Oh give me the police”. They arrived within 10 minutes, followed by the Somers Fire Brigade,

the Power Company and the SES. A group of chainsaw operators then proceeded to cut and clear away the fallen trees, and cutting off the power, allowed Tasman Road to be open to traffic again. Power was turned on again at 5 pm, which enabled the breadmaking to proceed, as well as many other activities in all the other affected households. As can be seen in the photograph below, a new power pole and transformer were installed the next day. At the same time in Garden Square, a large branch broke off and fell onto the powerlines, creating a pyrotechnic display, well and truly lighting up the neighbourhood. By the time I had rung the power company and the shire, the branch had slid to the ground and the fireworks had ceased. Of course the area was without power, a problem not corrected until 7 pm that night. The rapid response by all the emergency services is to be commended. Rod Nuske

WESTERNPORT The tides forever come and go As though the world is breathing There’s majesty in the ebb and flow Cross currents in there seething. Seabirds feed and squawk and screech No sense to human understanding; Small waves lick along the beach And big rollers come a’pounding. From Antarctic seas the chill winds Come, whipping up big tides Nurturing sea creatures in their kind As the universe provides. From a hummock I watch in awe And deeply feel the infinite, Then know how fortunate I was to see Life is but a moment in eternity. Sue Templeton

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