Surviving the Stuart

My first real career was that of a teacher.   The year was 1982 and I was finishing my third year as a primary school teacher.  This past year had been particularly tough one and the whole teaching thing was wearing a little thin to be honest.   This was my third school in three years and I had so far taught in two rural settings and this past year at an inner city in Melbourne’s western suburbs.

My first teaching assignment was in a little community on the Victoria – South Australia border in a town called Apsley.  In those days the head teacher was provided with a house in the community in which they taught, but because the principal was a local the house was sitting vacant until I arrived.   A small three-teacher school on the edge of town surrounded by farms, idyllic setting you’d think but the town was almost devoid of anyone near my age...well of the fairer sex that is!   I was 22 years old and stuck in a town 2.5 hours from the nearest sizeable town so it was a rather lonely first year.  J

In those days when you were starting your teaching career it was a little unpredictable in terms of where you’re going to be sent, especially in the first few years.  My second year found me in another even smaller school (Walpeup) in northern western Victoria, how was that possible I thought to myself.  The primary school was a two room, two-teacher affair on the edge of a desert no less.   The second half of the year I surprisingly was thrust into the principal role after a motorbike accident involving the then principal.   How weird is that – two years out of college and principal?

Clunes to Darwin - Australia is the same size as the
continental United States... 

I had expressly asked for an urban teaching assignment after literally two years in the wilderness, however I learned a great lesson…be careful what you wish for!   I was informed that I would be teaching at Tottenham North Primary School.   I had no idea where it was until I located it on my brothers Melways guide.  Then it hit me...holy shit I was going to teaching in the Western suburbs…of all the assignments this was the worst possible scenario.  

I would be teaching one of the grade 5/6 composite classes, but what was more surprising was that I was the only male teacher on staff other than the principal who was nearing retirement.   “Totty North” as the locals endearingly referred it to was situated between Footscray and Sunshine and bordered a very industrial area of South road.   The socio-economic situation in which I entered is something I’d never imagined – predominately single parent families, majority welfare recipients with a large and ever growing Vietnamese and Cambodian population.

One of my students had virtually no English, not that I could ever get him to speak even with his limited skills, it wasn’t just that he was shy, he never so much as smiled.  The story was that Noren had recently arrived in Australia from a refugee center in Thailand after he and his mother and siblings had fled Phnom Penh, the Cambodian capital.  Apparently Noren had had witnessed his father’s execution in the local square…so completely understandable.

I remember leaving school one day soon after the start of the year and my car had been “keyed” – not just scratched once, but repeatedly along both sides…   As you can now imagine my role quickly became a cross between a referee and a cop, rather than a teacher and educator.  Sometimes my day would consist of breaking up the daily schoolyard fights and often confronting intruders on the school premises and oh, occasionally teaching my class!  

Road train near Tennant Creek, 
Northern Territory Australia 1984

The longer the school year went the more depressed I became and the more I looked for a way out, quickly realizing that if I didn’t do something about the situation I would find myself back at Totty North next year as well.   So I began to look farther afield in terms of teaching and decided that I would move to Darwin and teach there.   My brother Laurie was living in Darwin at the time, having settled there in 1973 after he returned from Papua New Guinea where he’d been working for the Commonwealth Government.   Hhhmmm a beach and a tropical climate – so hard to get used to!   J

I began to plan my exit and so in early December I tendered my resignation effective January 1^st (in Australia the school year is aligned to the calendar year).

Next I had to get a vehicle that could handle the long distance drive and that would accommodate all of my worldly possessions...   So trading my severely scratched Toyota Corolla for a Toyota minivan was the first order of business.  Instead of enjoying my last summer at home, I decided that it would be best work another harvest and make some extra cash…just in case it took me a while to find a job in Darwin.  

In mid January with the harvest now complete my excitement grew as I packed the van and subsequent supplies – spare tire, extra water and an additional jerry can of fuel…check, check and check!  

Driving by myself I departed Clunes on Tuesday morning, and if all went as planned I should arrive into Darwin late Saturday afternoon.   The easy part of the drive, which I was quick to find out, was the Clunes to Adelaide leg.  The road was fully paved and had all the regular highway amenities along the way.   The first night I camped just outside North Adelaide pulling into a rest stop and sleeping in my van.

I woke the next morning to an exceedingly bright sun literally blinding me as I sat in the front seat of the van. Day two would take me north along the Gulf of St Vincent through Port Pirie to Port Augusta, before heading inland toward Alice Springs.  Once I turned onto the Stuart Highway just outside Port Augusta it was a single paved road all the way through the heart of Australia to Darwin.  

As I rolled into Port Augusta that afternoon I realized that I would have to spend the night here before striking out for Alice Springs some 1250 km distant.  I’d been warned that it wasn’t safe to drive this road at night because of the livestock and other assorted animals (camels, kangaroos…), which wandered this desert landscape.  

So I rose early the next day and hit the road.   The tricky thing was trying to predict when I should stop and fill the van with petrol.   Being unfamiliar with this part of the world, I was just a little paranoid about running out of petrol or breaking down and in those days with no cell phone or easy way to communicate made it just a bit stressful particularly as I was driving through desert.  

Fortunately this part of the road was mostly paved and reasonably well traveled although not so much by car which presented a whole new set of challenges for which I wasn’t truly prepared for until the first transport truck flew by me creating a dust cloud that was completely impenetrable.   Quickly slowing to a crawl until the dust had somewhat cleared it had frightened the shit out of me as I lost complete visibility to the road and surroundings.

Stuart Highway near Devils Marbles - Central Australia

Each day was another scorcher (well over 39C or 102F) and especially without air conditioning in the van so I drove with the windows down to try and keep cool.   Trying to keep at a steady (110 – 130 kph or translated 65 to 70 mph) I realized that I was too slow for the assorted trucks and road-trains that made me look as though I was standing still.  With each passing truck passed I was quickly enveloped in yet another dust cloud, even with the windows up dust seemed to somehow seep into the van…  

I made it into Alice Springs late in the day with one very sun-burned “truck driver arm”, I was exhausted from having to concentrate for every moment of my journey but happy that I’d made it without incident so far.

I was desperate for a shower and as I looked in the mirror at the motel, I was almost unrecognizable – completely covered in a combination of dust and sweat that made me look as though I had just stepped out of mud puddle.

Friday morning found me calculating my route north, and again I was stuck in a quandary.  Darwin was almost 20 hours drive north, and impossible to make during sunlight hours so I decided that I would spend the morning taking in the sights of Alice Springs before heading to Tennant Creek where I would stay the night.   Then Saturday I would drive the final leg (13+ hours) to Darwin.

Unfortunately I had a flat tire just outside of Alice Springs, which set me back and put me in jeopardy of arriving into Tennant Creek after dark.   This was turning into a bad situation as I’d been warned over and over not to drive after sunset.  

It happened exactly as they said it would…rounding a corner on the crest of a hill just after sunset, with the lights of Tennant Creek shining on the horizon (I was starting to relax as I thought I was going to make it okay).  I realized almost too late that there were two large cattle standing smack in the middle of the road.  In an instant I swerved to miss them but now found myself on the wrong side of the road just in time to see a set of truck lights looming in front of me.  

Quite a few hundred kilometers of the
Stuart Highway were still dirt in early 1984

My mind raced and I tried to correct my swerve and get back onto my side of the road...I held my breath for the impact, but somehow he had missed me - it must have been by a “hairs breath”.   The transport hadn’t stopped…he was too big and going too fast.  I pulled over and got out, squatting down beside the van and shaking violently from my near miss all I could do was take some deep breaths and shake my head at how fast that had happened.  Clearly I needed to keep my wits about me or anything could happen.  

Regaining my composure I drove the last 20 or so kilometers into Tennant Creek rather slowly. 

Saturday dawned with yet another cloudless sky as I headed out on the last leg of my journey from Tennant Creek to Darwin (1000+ km’s).   However, calling this a highway was a complete misnomer, cos’ in those days there were large stretches of the Stuart highway that were still unpaved – just hard baked dirt.   Now couple that with the many cattle grids, the “road-trains” (transports hauling up to three other full size trailers), the choking red dust and the heat made this one of the most inhospitable roads in the world.

The further I ventured north the hotter, stickier and more humid it became, the terrain transforming from arid desert to scrubby low bush.   Late in the afternoon just out of Katherine I was hit by a severe storm.  It had been building all day with ever darkening thunderheads on the horizon – my first wet season storm!  It’s hard to describe or imagine the volume of water that fell from the sky during that storm – it was like someone was pouring buckets of water on the vans windscreen it was so heavy. 

Finally made it to Darwin but my van was
a deep shade of red with its dust coating!

Clearly this was the most challenging day of driving yet.  I drove in what you might consider a trance, primarily from sheer tiredness and exhaustion, but also having to concentrate for such a long period of time on the road and my other cohabitants.   My adventure was quickly losing its appeal!   

I eventually arrived into Darwin around 6:00 pm on Saturday night, some five days, (53 hours of driving), and 3700 km’s on the odometer later.   I’d made it, somewhat unscathed and with a new appreciation for the long distance truck drivers that drove the Stuart “Highway” for a living. 

It took a few weeks to get the dust out of my assorted body cavities, but what a memorable trip!