Day 20 - Downhearted

Pink Parrots (I got creative for this one.)

I was reading my book The Fatal Shore along the beach front of Denham (it really is a lovely town). A man walking his dogs stopped and asked what I was reading, adding that it was rare to see someone reading these days. Pause – hold this thought.

When I was in Sydney on Day 3, I told you about a guy who approached me about drugs. On Day 5, a similar thing happened, and in the same park. I never told you because I was starting to find the theme distasteful. I’ve regretted not telling you, so now’s my chance. On Day 5, the thing that happened that I didn’t tell you about then, but that I’m going to tell you about now, is this: I was reading my book The Fatal Shore in the evening in the same park of Surry Hills when a guy came up to me and said ‘now a guy reading a book in the park has gotta be selling drugs’. I didn’t know what to be more pissed about – the fact that he was approaching me about drugs or what it said about a lack of culture. My replies weren’t very polite, and he retreated rather quickly. Ah, I feel better now (barely).

Tim w/ Noah and Bella

Un-pause. This is the second (or third) time I’ve been popular for reading a book. (I wish it worked with women.) I answered his question and a nice conversation followed. His name's Tim, he’s 72, and his dogs are named Bella and Noah (I don’t know their ages). Tim’s from England but has lived in Australia for 40 years and is a resident of Denham. He told me quite a lot, and I gather he’s done many things in his life. He referenced being a counselor, building a business locally, making and losing a fortune, taking on a developer, editing a newspaper, etc.

Here’s the thing – he had a way of pulling information out of me. At first I found it charming – his mannerisms and words (which were more British than Aussie). But I detected he was probing for something. I didn’t mind and happily answered questions and politely returned with questions of my own. Then I started to realize he knew too much about me, and I was already mid-stream and committed to finishing the conversation in some polite fashion. It doesn’t really matter what we were talking about. What I’m saying is that sometimes you just don’t want to talk about certain aspects of your life. Tim can get in there. He knows how to ask questions and present thoughtful, accurate conclusions with the information you’ve provided. (He “hits the nail on the head”.) My knee-jerk reaction is to say to myself, ‘I’m not going to be open with people anymore’. You also lose out in life when you build walls.

Sailboat on Shark Bay (near Monkey Mia)

Tim said he used to have a good job giving off-road tours to foreigners. Now that the Australian dollar is so strong, he says that’s all dried up.

Kangaroo Paws

Yesterday I included a photo of the flooding Murchison River. Tim said that it’s normally bone dry and that historically the aborigines would follow these flooding rivers down from the higher areas after the rains and hunt the kangaroo and emu. When the river dried up, they’d go back inland to live.

I think Tim sang a little song as we parted yesterday. But I couldn’t tell if it was that or a riddle or some type of slang. Whatever it was, it was mesmerizing.

Tim knows a lot.

Sunset at Denham

In the prologue, I failed to mention the aborigines. I see them as an amazing people (their history; although they are generally quite despised in this country). Did you know that the Australian aborigines came from Asia at least 30,000 years ago, and in doing so they made the first colonization by sea in human history? The ocean was much lower then, but they still would have had a few water crossings of around 50 miles. They brought with them their half-wild dogs, which became the dingo. They were perhaps the first to practice cremation. They had no concept of private property. They relied on elaborate storytelling “dreaming” to pass down their history and identity, which was intricately tied to the land, plants, and animals. And they were killed off and their lands taken and their cultures shattered. Obviously there are many stories here.

Murchison River meets the Indian Ocean at Kalbarri

In the town of Kalbarri, the flooding Marchison River meets the Indian Ocean. I was photographing it, and a woman nearby mounting her bicycle just started talking to me. She exclaimed, ‘there he goes! Captain (I forget his name) has broken the law. They said absolutely no crossing the sand bar. In this country, in the town, cray fishermen are king.' She said this in a proud way. A large yellow trawler had just crossed from the ocean to the river and was the object of her admiration.

Along Hwy 1, South of Billabong

I named this blog article after my new favorite song, which I heard on the radio this morning while driving south out of Shark Bay. Have a listen: Australian Crawl - Downhearted It was released in 1980 and only went to number 12 on one chart - The Australian Singles Chart. I love it. Quirky video too (and a time capsule into Australian culture of the time).

This guy's called a "Long Tongue"; Denham

Windmills (I just Love 'em!)

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Day 20 – Downhearted

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