Two dogs warned of our approach before we were met by the first of three volunteer students from UK universities on practical course work experience. Once inside the house two bassinettes were brought out containing pillow cases out of which peeped, five orphan joeys. We were introduced to four western greys - Oscar (a road victim busy sucking one of his fingers!), Tommy and Bindy (victims of kangaroo hunters) and Pippit, born on the property to Tina, a western brush tail wallaby who had stressed out and abandoned her.
Oscar sucking his finger; Feeding Pippit and taking the orphaned roos for a post-prandial walk!
In the middle of enthusing over these contented little creatures Carol Lander, the dedicated and inspiring prime mover of Roo Gully who had turned her home and property into a wildlife sanctuary, arrived for feeding time. Ringo, the baby ring-tailed possum arrived too. George was frantically trying to photograph all the action of these babies each being fed and cuddled. Bottles of special roo formula were slugged down in double quick time with the same glazed relaxed look in the eye as a human baby. Quantities are strictly measured. By day pillow cases are used as pouches and by night the joeys tuck up in their own sleeping bags which look rather like large padded peg bags which hang the length of Carol’s built-in cupboards. What with two dogs and the possum in there too, her sleep can’t be that restful!
“Potty time” on the bare front terrace follows after their feed. We were assured the lawn comes back in the winter. The best way of “winding” the joeys and prevent sore tummies is to take them for a walk and that afternoon we all set off across the creek into a paddock where the Roo Gully mob of Western Greys hang out. Being a different species Pippit had to be carried in her pillowcase otherwise she’d be attacked and killed.
We had many flash-backs of our stay with the orphan chimpanzees at Chimfunshi on the border between Zambia and the Congo as we took this walk with the four orphan roos. They would follow in stages, watching upright, a bit like a meercat, with their ears twitching, before bounding after us. We found the mob lying up in the shade and were introduced to the many personalities within and given histories on the lineage of certain individuals. A wild male outside the fence line, who’d been trying to get in, took off on our arrival. These walks create ideal opportunity for the joeys to interact with the mob and learn “kangaroo etiquette” with the females doing most of the warning and disciplining whereas the males are more accepting and protective. The afternoon sun had our shadows fall behind us and the joeys were quick to seek this shade and sense of security beside us. Very easy to step back onto them!
As we circled back up to the homestead we came upon the “Garden of Remembrance” with tombstones to the memories of little creatures who stole hearts during their often fleeting time on earth. What appealed most to George was Carol’s final wish to be buried in the centre of her wildlife cemetery, amongst the loves of her life, eternal flame and all.
Roo cemetery at Roo Gully - Carol Lander intended resting place
We didn’t disturb the western brush tail wallabies as not only are they quite highly strung their numbers in the wild are low and warrant a captive breeding programme. Unlike those in Perth Zoo Carol’s group has successfully bred, with the result that she is now involved in a breeding programme and other research with the Zoo and Curtin University.
As in the case of Jenny Maclean’s Tolga Bat Hospital that we visited in Queensland it came as no surprise to discover that Carol’s labours of love are beset first and foremost with the general welfare of her charges, with time still having to be found to seek funding and deal with the never ending bureaucratic shuffling of paperwork, red tape and applications. Perhaps Carol has it easier than Jenny because bats have a poor public image whereas kangaroos are world icons for Australia and when you are close up and personal to these trusting, yet fascinating, marsupials you quickly lose your heart to them.
As the afternoon drew to a close members of the mob began arriving for a drink from the house supply as there is no water at this time of year in the creek (a sheep farmer can apply for a bore, not a roo sanctuary!), others wanted a feed – seeds are scattered on the terrace and troughs of pellets are provided on the verandah. Swapping yarns with Carol, dogs dozing amongst the joeys on the verandah, the chomping sound of a kangaroo enjoying his pellets and the indentations in the “lawn” steadily being filled with lethargic roos, we felt quite heart sore to drag ourselves away from this wonderful encounter with the inmates of Roo Gully.
It seemed far too late to continue on down the road to Harvey Dickson’s Country Music Centre. However, George had seen photos in the Visitors Centre of three enormous sculptures that started out as trees growing in the wild to become a 46 ft “guitar man” with his two friends, a banjo girl and lead guitar player and he was keen to at least get a glimpse of them. Approaching the farm, 5km from Boyup Brook, a rusty old car with PARKING written across its length was our first indication that we had arrived at a massive collection depot belonging to Harvey and Rose Dickson. The road had been realigned just outside their farm gate and they had made good use of the old road for an assortment of vintage vehicles and by-gone tractors. Once George spotted the OPEN sign he was quick to park outside a huge barn with Lea protesting that probably a sign to the contrary was never used.
Nevertheless George hot-footed it through an enormous wooden archway sporting a cunningly chosen branch resembling horns, past stacked boulders and car door signage into the farmyard to be assailed by the sound of chickens. After a good five minutes of being unable to locate anybody he beckoned Lea to help look around. We found a sign that said KNOCK ON BACK DOOR and tried many with no result until finding another saying TO BACK DOOR , eventually finding Harvey and Rose relaxing in a veritable green paradise with their parrots. These strangers greeted us as friends and were only too delighted to reopen his Country Music Centre for us.
We had no idea of what was involved until all was revealed. Unlocking a colossal machinery shed we were ushered into its spell-binding interior. This was the Bunyip Shed that has been turned into a magnificent country music entertainment venue. From the ceiling was a hanging museum. The more you looked the more you saw. Harvey, filled us in on the history - since the first signs of life in Boyup Brook the farm had been in the Dickson family but things began to change when a 14 year old Harvey began a passionate obsession with records, particularly those of Elvis and Johnny Cash. When his mates were buying cars, his every cent went on records.
Inside the Bunyip Shed and Elvis sand sculpture
Around 1979 country music crept into the activities of farming life when a few farmers would gather around the farmhouse and sing bush ballads, and so evolved Harvey Dickson’s Country Music Centre. In time the group grew to a crowd and the crowd grew into a big audience of music lovers. When the garden was crushed after a show Rose took a stand and in 1985 a massive upgrading process was undertaken as the shed was emptied of three generations of machinery and Bunyip Shed came into existence for the first show to celebrate the Dickson family’s 100 years in Boyup Brook. With the passing years the Shed had to be extended to cope with the ever increasing numbers and included the Bushman’s Bar, kitchens, barbeque area, stage and change rooms. It reeks from memorabilia of every kind. Two cubicles contained life sized sculptures of Elvis and Johnny Cash and we were amazed to hear they had been carved out of sand.
We returned to the main house to be shown the Record Room – a room that hasn’t changed in over 20 years and continues to gather Elvis memorabilia. Amongst the thousands of 33 & 45 rpm vinyls in their carefully preserved sleeves are recordings by a whole host of other artists from the 50’s onwards. We walked own memory lane while Harvey sat at the controls of his record player giving us a selection of rarities from the past. We were chuffed beyond words!
Harvey Dickson in the Record Room
Somehow we’d missed the music men sculptures we’d actually come to see but apparently there was still more to be seen … It was now coming up for 7.00pm as Harvey pointed us in the direction of his rodeo arena and camping ground on the opposite side of the main road. This was yet another remarkable array of venues brought about by the most utilitarian and artistic use of gigantic logs and boulders all dominated by Harvey’s trade mark sculpted music makers. Another addition to all the unusual things around this place was a boot cemetery, “Boot Hill” topped with the Aussie flag and headstones for some boots dating back to 1912. Of course the toilet block had to be for Bulls and Heifers, “Dead Horse Saloon” was another essential and an outdoor music venue with bandstand. This amazing infrastructure clearly indicating the vast number of people that seasonally converge here and even in its emptiness the atmosphere was palpable.
The Guitar Man and his two friends
Returning late to the Flax Mill campsite we noticed an arrow pointing to SAND SCULPTURES and knew we’d have to take a look at those before we left in the morning. But by morning we knew we couldn’t leave Boyup just yet! Having been over stimulated and highly charged by all we’d seen and done we found it difficult to sleep that night as thoughts tumbled one after each other through our heads. George scheming on how to return for Harvey’s three day Country Music Show over the Queen’s Birthday week-end in September. The occasion, the music and the setting would make for a unique experience that we’d love to share with our family.
While paying Gyula, the Hungarian caretaker, for another day George learnt more about Boyup Brook, the Country Music Capital of WA! The caravan park is already booked out for September ’07 and February is even worse due to the Boyup Brook Hot Country Music Festival which incorporates the WA Country Music Awards, at which John Williamson will be appearing! (Eat your heart out Daniel!) A Truck and Ute Muster is incorporated into this massive town occasion and what we thought was a new toilet block being built turned out to be the new bandstand for this annual event which centres across the Flax Mill Recreation Park.
Tucked away in one of the old Flax Mill’s outbuildings we found the sand sculptures. Just beautiful – we immediately recognised Pinnochio, then Snow White and a dwarf, Babe the pig in the arms of the farmer and his wife and Sing a song of Sixpence’s king with his dainty dish before him. The detail amazing and we wondered how the sand maintained its shape – glue added? Sadly, pigeons have taken up residence in the rafters and the inevitable white washing is evident.
With no mobile signal in Boyup Brook to arrange a stay at Perup Ecology Centre to do the night stalk on the Thursday we hoped the lady at the Visitors Centre would phone for us. George popped in there while Lea shot into the supermarket. Volunteer Jaqui was on duty and very obligingly called Perup and ascertained the caretaker was in hospital. No point in a trip there this time round. In extolling the attributes of Boyup George mentioned the sand sculptures at the Flax Mill and Harvey Dickson’s. In turn a new sequence of events opened ….
Jaqui’s husband, Sandy Chambers, is Boyup Brook’s Artist in Residence and the creator of the sand sculptures we’d seen. She took George out to see the hologram outside the Visitors Centre and told him where to find more - extending an invitation to visit Sandy in his home studio.
That afternoon up at the swimming pool, where the Shire had commissioned a sand sculpture by Sandy, Dave the superintendent showed us Noah’s Lark. Under Dave’s encouragement the Artist’s sense of humour shone through and we knew we had to meet This MAN. Concealed within the spectrum of animals displayed were subtle cues to other words and objects. “Where’s Willy?” Lea knew what to look for and found him. A little fox holding a real glove in his mouth made foxglove and so it went on. A most delightful thinking activity for children (And adults!). With the artist’s penchant for nudes the Shire had requested a family orientated subject! Sandy with tongue in cheek determined not to be restricted by adding a box with a large nut (from a bolt) on the lid and big boobs on the side – all sculpted out of wet sand. The net result? Chestnut, horse chestnut and treasure chest.
Further, when Sandy was completing this commission he couldn’t resist creating a reclining nude in the rear base of this monolithic sculpture of animals. 9/11 happened, the world was hunting down Bin Laden, and Sandy marked the horrific event by adding Bin Laden’s head to the “secret place”. George was allowed to climb over the security barrier to view these two artworks well hidden behind the scenes.
Noah’s Lark - Sandy Chambers' sand sculptures at swimming pool
Sandy and Jaqui Chambers
On an easel work in progress, a commission being undertaken from a photograph of someone’s home, and on all the walls sensitively painted water colours of historic Australiana. As for the sand sculptures we discovered he uses wet pindan sand, the red talc-like soils we encountered in the Pilbara, NO glue! ABC TV came and did a programme on Sandy making a sand sculpture of the lady as she interviewed him over three hours. They put on the video to demonstrate some of his technique. We will forever remember the classic remark made by this young lady dressed in her professional gear with blazer and scarf around her neck coming to view the finished product and her gasp “Sandy! Where’re my clothes?” - This wicked imp of a fellow had quietly disrobed her!
Outside, in their extensive gardens, Jaqui introduced Lea to their talking mixed breed galah and fed biscuits to a sulphur crested cockatoo before taking her to see their aviaries of Australian and exotic birds. Next to a water-feature was a pelican Sandy had created out of high density Styrofoam and dotted throughout the garden were holograms of faces and, inevitably, a nude. Meanwhile, George was simultaneously confounded and intrigued to be shown Sandy’s headstone, a hologram of himself set in concrete, ready for his grave in time. His hand made and decorated coffin ready too, something which he does on request for other people as well!
We all went down to meet Sara the camel – the last of many the Chambers have bred, including two white camels that went to reside with the Sultan of Brunei! Even the camel gave us a warm welcome and Lea was smothered in kisses.
Lea sharing a kiss with Sara
Just after 5.00 Jackie was collected for her “swim to Bunbury”! The ladies do lengths down at the pool. We had a hard time tearing ourselves away to leave this dear old gentleman to get on with his many projects. All the way out to Skiv Sandy continued to point out things or explain things we’d noticed like his lookout tree (with its peg ladder spiralling upwards) and a waterwheel he has under construction. He is making it out of recycled road signs and powering it with a windmill! Oh dear – we could go on and on. It was a most scintillating visit.
Feeling so euphoric for a second day in row we couldn’t just return to Getaway and with long sunny evenings we drove into town to find the holograms at the museum and fire station. Like the old masters the eyes of all Sandy’s holograms follow you round. Barley Bogar, the fireman, lives in Boyup and the hologram outside the fire station, in his likeness, is dedicated to him and his family for their long and continuing service to the community. It was the only one we saw using true colours.
Barley Bogar the Boyup Brook fireman
P. S.The colourfully rich tapestries of their lives touched and enriched ours.
If anything we have written here has sparked your interest you may wish to look at the following websites:
· www.geocities.com/harveydickson
· http://www.roogully.com/
No comments:
Post a Comment