Many years ago there was a television show in the United States called 'Don't Mess With Texas' starring the late Chuck Connors. The premise of the program was to compare Texas to other places in the world such as who had the biggest, best and most dangerous of a whole range of things from cowboys to snakes.
While in Australia we have our fair share of things that are the envy of others all over the world, one of them undoubtedly has to be the traditional Aussie barbeque.
A pastime that has lasted throughout the ages and made more famous over the last half century due to people like Paul Hogan and his renowned 'Throw a shrimp on the barbie' line, the Aussie barbeque (BBQ) is more popular then ever.
Largely a summer trend, the Aussie barbie has taken on different forms and meaning over the years and we here in Australia are still the only nation that cooks and eats both animals on our coat of arms - the kangaroo and the emu.
If it can be eaten, then there is a fair chance someone somewhere has barbequed it at some stage.
As the picture above attests, the Aussie barbeque is also a centrepiece for any Australian family and their backyard and it usually goes well with cricket, a swimming pool and a couple of cold beers. Yes, the Aussie barbie is not like any other barbie and it is a proud part of our culture. All this Aussie Barbie in this picture needs is a bit of attention from Ken.
Tales from the Pilliga #8
Story and photo by Dane Millerd
As reported to this author recently by a representative of the National Parks and Wildlife, Ms May Fleming, this story is about a truck driver and his son who camped off No. 1 Break Road in the Pilliga Forest.
"I haven't seen anything myself but the truckie and his son seemed pretty convinced about what happened to them," May explained.
The yarn goes something like this:
The truck driver, who we will call Bob for the sake of the story and his son who we will call Bill, were camped off No. 1 Break Road one wet night, a popular area for truckies to pull over off the Newell Highway. It is right in the middle of the Pilliga and considered by many to be a 'hot spot.'
As the pair slept in the heavy vehicle there was a tremendous noise outside followed by incredible shaking of the truck.
"They were scared stiff," said May.
In fact so scared that they tried to start the vehicle but didn't move because the handbrake was still on. When the driver Bob realised, he didn't wait around to see what it was and took off down the Newell for Coonabarabran.
Whatever it was had incredible strength and the pair have never camped there since.
Watch this space for more tales from the Pilliga.
Australia's lost treasures
Story by Dane Millerd Additional info courtesy of John Pinkney Image courtesy of Gold Net
Throughout Australia's brief colonial history there have been many stories about lost and hidden treasures. Some such as Lasseter's Gold Reef and the Luck of the Irish have been covered here on this site but a look through our past shows there are many more out there you may not know about.
SAM POO AND THE HIDDEN GOLD Chinese-Australian bushranger Sam Poo was notorious for his ability to rob and steal, so much so that much of Coonabarabran's underground tunnels were made just to combat his crimes. The town sits above a swathe of burrows that were designed to allow townsfolk of the day to safely transport their money and gold to and from the bank. Poo is believed to have stolen a large cargo of gold and stashed it in an old mine shaft during the 1860s out near Scabby Rock. It has never been found.
THE SILVER MOUNTAIN Malay merchant Hadji Ibrahim brought his boat out to Australia years before European settlement. Landing on the north coast of Western Australia, Ibrahim found a silver mountain reef and packed his ship with as much silver as he could. He went home and sold it before deciding on a return trip. Second time round it wasn't so straight forward and Ibrahim became shipwrecked before drowning. His journal kept many interested for years and in the 1850s one Jack Fletcher said he knew the location of the lode and was about to stake a claim. Two days later Fletcher was found dead in his rented hotel room with a wound to the head near a kerosene tin filled with silver ore. Several years later and one of Ibrahim's descendants decided to take up where Hadji left off however he never found the silver mountain and was last seen meandering the countryside with natives.
BULLION NEAR BALLARAT Somewhere between Ballarat and Melbourne allegedly lies a small fortune if you believe the story of Bushranging Dandy a.k.a Captain Melville. Melville bragged to police upon capture of a fortune buried between the town locales. He is not the only bushranger to have stashed a treasure in the Australian bush.
EUGOWRA ROCKS ROBBERY Frank Gardiner and Ben Hall stole a lode in 1862 and a big part of that treasure was never found. Those seeking to find the fortune have been looking for a century-and-a-half but to no avail.
Hall is also alleged to have stowed more gold away near the Goulburn region which also has never been located.
THUNDERBOLT'S GOLD NUGGETS Captain Thunderbolt a.k.a Fred Ward is presumed to have hidden gold nuggets in the Mudgee region during his hey day somewhere near the ranges. Thunderbolt had planned to go back and get the gold but before he could he was alleged to have been shot dead.
No of any treasures we don't? Let us know.
Pandamonium on the Peninsula
Story by Percy Warrul Image courtesy of linkingmelbourne.com
Stories of roadside phantoms and tortured souls of the asphalt are frequent throughout our nation. More specifically, they are popular around the world. Tales from the macabre to the downright bizarre are often littered throughout the back pages of newspapers and as is normally the case, no one wants to know, talk about or publicise them.
Sometimes things happen that cannot be explained and curiously, avoided. For by their very nature they require a closer look. Some say a random group of events taking place can occasionally lead to strange occurrences, others say there is nothing in life that happens by chance.
One of the things I have often wondered as I drive on our lonely roads are the significance of wreaths and roadside burials. What really happened to those poor people? Do they see things we don't? And do they come back and haunt our highways?
Well on the Mornington Peninsula in the 1980s something like that happened. They all saw the same thing and in the end there were 19 cars involved in an incredible crash. Every motorist unprompted and unknown to each other swore they saw a ghostly figure on the road and that they all tried their best to swerve and miss it.
A boilermaker named Bill Featherstone made an emergency stop to avoid hitting the figure but he was one of the lucky ones. Within minutes this ghostly spectre also drifted up to the fly-over road and caused a two car collision up there that is thought to have caused the two deaths.
Many claimed the phantom appeared to be half man and half fog yet police and many remained sceptical. After all, what would one write on the police report anyway?
Yes, highway apparitions are alive and well from Perth to the Peninsula and from Parkes to Prosepine. Keep an eye out - for objects in the mirror are much closer then they appear!
Ghost Trains
Story and image by Dane Millerd Additional info courtesy of Jack Marx Photo of Damian Godson courtesy of Jack Marx
Ever been the only person on a train? Ever wondered whether it would stop? Could stop? Have you wondered whether anyone else was on the same train and if so, who? Welcome aboard the Phantom Express where anything is possible.
All over the world 'ghost trains' have been seen. While some may remain cynical, those who have witnessed such phenomena swear by it. Australia is no different with ghost train reports dating back decades and they have been seen all over our country wherever railway tracks are laid.
Many of the sightings also include ghosts at train stations as well as ghosts on train tracks - usually spirits who in reality, died terrible lives in the path of a train.
For the record we aren't talking about NSW City Rail and their phantom trains and manufactured timetables. We are talking real ghost trains and the next story is quite frightening.
GHOST TRAIN AT CIRCULAR QUAY While waiting at Circular Quay for a ferry to take them to Sydney's Luna Park on June 9, 1979, the Godson family were approached by a Satanic-looking figure dressed in a loincloth and wearing a mask with horns.
As you can see in the photo it was a frightening sight though no-one seems bothered by it. Was it even there?
The creature voicelessly placed his hand on young Damian Godson's shoulder. Somebody snapped a photograph. It is the last photograph of the boy ever taken although no-one knew it at the time.
Some hours later, Damian, his brother, Craig, and his father, John, burnt in the fire that swept through The Ghost Train.
Nobody will ever see the horned man again and opinion has been divided since whether he even existed or whether it was some sort of Satanic ghost. Having taken a trip on that train myself and through the testimony of others we are no closer to the truth.
* If you have stories on Ghost Trains drop us a line.
The Brigantine Marie
Info by LL Staffers Image by Dane Millerd
On June 7, 1840, the ship known as Marie left Adelaide en route for Hobart Town. Aboard were 26 souls and little would they have known at the time the horrendous fate that awaited them.
Interestingly, also aboard was cargo, namely 4,000 English sovereigns.
When the brigantine became shipwrecked near present day Kingston, all aboard scampered to the safety of the shore where they were confronted by a tribe of Aborigines.
Bribed by jewellery such as necklaces and watches, the Aborigines agreed to take the party to the nearest settlement over 200kms away.
Somewhere near Lake Albert the Aborigines turned on the group and killed everyone - men, women and children. One woman escaped and she allegedly swam to the mouth of the Murray before vanishing, never to be seen again.
Some say she went wild and lived with a local indigenous tribe, others say she was swallowed by the sea. Whatever the case neither the woman nor the gold aboard the Marie have ever been found.
Haunted Cemeteries
Story by Dane Millerd Photo by Paul Denham
Everyone knows of haunted places such as Sarah's Grave and the Fox Hills/ Prospect Cemetery. They are among the more popular sites to visit, especially in New South Wales. According to website theshadowlands.net there are many more you may not know about.
Wombarra Cemetery in Wollongong covers a windswept headland that juts out to the sea. From a distance, witnesses have seen a white figure standing at the end of the headland looking out to sea.
Innisfail Cemetery holds many old Italian mausoleums. What makes it among the most frightening of all cemeteries is the unmistakable sounds of very loud breathing being heard.
Kapunda Cemetery in South Australia is also said to be haunted. The old mining town has a young girl that haunts the local cemetery. She was sent to the nuns when she was pregnant and unmarried. The local priest gave her an abortion and to this day she still haunts the graveyard, searching for her baby.
Toowong Cemetery in Brisbane was officially opened in 1875. Stories still circulate of strange, feral odours and the sounds of voices - people talking. There are also yarns about bodies that are yet to decompose and it houses the infamous Mayne family.
If you have anymore let us know.
More UFO sightings
* It was quite an unusual Christmas for many people in Melbourne in 2006 as the mystery of the chrome ball remains unsolved.
The Cold Man
Story and Images by Adam Phillips courtesy of www.bitey.com
Newcastle, NSW, Australia Told to me by my uncle in 1988
When he was in his mid 20s one of my uncles, Lionel, lived with a house-mate in a small apartment house in the suburb of Maitland, near Newcastle back in the late 80′s. I forget the other guy’s name, so I’ll just call him Dave in this story.
Strange things began to happen in and around the house, and Lionel tells me it all started when, late one evening while watching television, they both could hear a distant metallic banging. The noise quickly became louder and closer, and soon it sounded like heavy footsteps running across the rooftops high above. From the loudest point directly above their heads, the banging continued on and faded off into the distance. What made this even more peculiar is the fact that the rooftops of those tenement houses were high-peaked with very steep slopes.
This happened irregularly, but always late at night… on several occasions Lionel and Dave dashed outside as the first few distant footsteps were heard, but they never saw anything. After a few weeks, the phantom rooftop jogger stopped.
While this wasn’t too scary in itself, the house became really creepy one particular weekend when Lionel was jolted awake by the sound of the radio in the living room blasting music at full volume. He bolted out of bed, into the living room and switched it off. Dave came out from his room and Lionel, thinking that Dave was to blame said angrily, “What do you think you’re doing??” Dave was just as annoyed however… he thought it was Lionel who’d turned on the radio. They both went back to their beds, putting it down to some kind of weird coincidence.
Following that night it happened four nights in a row, and each time it was in the small hours of the morning between about 2:30 and 4:00 am. A couple of times it was not just the radio, but the television and the lights in the living room as well. One of those nights, the radio came on and Lionel ran out into the bright living room and turned it off. In the silence that followed, he found that Dave wasn’t home. He was still out on the town partying, and the grim realization dawned on Lionel that he was alone in the house!
Now the house was an old place, so you can understand that one could not walk in a straight line without a few dozen floorboards creaking. Walking from the front door, down the hallway past the bedrooms and into the living room, it was impossible to do it silently.
Well, one particular night, a week or so after the radio/television incidents, Dave had gone to bed an hour or so earlier than Lionel. It was around midnight when Lionel finally turned off the television and the lights, and went to his own room.
Just as he was dropping off to sleep, he heard the hallway floor creaking. He looked and saw a tall, dark shape moving along the hall, past his doorway. Lionel was suddenly convinced that it was Dave sleepwalking, on his way to the living room to turn on the radio. He thought he would catch Dave in the act, so he crept to the door and peered down the dark hallway. Nothing and nobody was there. He started to creep toward the living room, when suddenly Dave emerged from his bedroom behind Lionel and turned on the hall light.
“So it’s you!” Dave accused him. Lionel leapt with fright and as he turned to face Dave, there was a loud crash out in the kitchen beyond the living room, like a window smashing. The first obvious thought was that someone was in the house, and was escaping now through the back. However, a check of the kitchen turned up nothing. No intruder, nothing broken.
When Lionel told Dave what he’d seen walking past his bedroom door, the two of them finally began to consider that the house may be haunted. As they went back through the living room to the hallway and stood talking, they gradually became aware of how cold the hallway had become, and no sooner had Dave commented than a dreadful smell filled the air. It smelled like rotting meat and Lionel told me it’s easily the worst thing he’s ever sniffed.
The creaking hallway happened a few more times after that night, and each time both guys could smell that dreadful cold, rotting meat. Not long after that, Dave had enough and decided to move out the very next weekend. Lionel decided that if he couldn’t get a new house-mate within a week or so, he’d move out too.
He put the word out to his friends, but no takers. Now it starts getting worse, because Lionel was now living alone in this horrible place. Surprisingly, not much happened for a few nights after Dave left, and Lionel began to think that maybe whatever it was, had played its tricks and moved on.
As you might expect though, Lionel was asleep one night when he heard a board creak in the hallway. He thought to himself, ‘This is it… I’m never going to get any peace unless I confront it’. He gathered a heap of courage, got out of bed and stepped into the cold, and now stinking hallway. He walked toward the front door and switched on the hall light, then began to walk back toward the dark living room.
He stood at the entrance to the living room for a moment, and was about to reach for the switch when he heard a board creak behind him. He turned quickly to see a man towering over him, and as he spun to face it, Lionel’s elbow passed quietly through the man’s torso.
He later told me that as his elbow passed through the man, it was cold like ice. The man was well over 6-feet in height, he had light-blue eyes, shoulder-length blonde hair, and wore only a pair of dark trousers. Lionel stammered, “what do you want?” and instantly the man vanished.
Terrified, Lionel went to his room, left the light on and sat on his bed until sleep overtook him. When he was telling me this story, I found it very hard to understand how he could possibly stay in that house for another night, but he stayed there for several nights after.
The next day was a Friday… in the afternoon he arrived home from work, showered and went out clubbing with friends. He returned very late with a large group of them, and they continued drinking and partying in the house until dawn. The same happened on Saturday night, so the Sunday night was Lionel’s first night alone in the house since the appearance of the ghost three nights before.
He was sleeping soundly with the light on, when he was woken by the sound of the floor, and that dreadful smell. When he opened his eyes, he was facing the wall and could feel that someone was in the room. He turned his head to look over his shoulder and the ghost was standing beside the bed, that expressionless face looking down at him. Lionel froze, staring at the man’s face and after a second or two it vanished silently once again.
Knowing that it was certain to happen again, Lionel got his instant camera and held it beside him in bed. Just before dawn, he was woken again and the man was standing, this time at the foot of the bed. He quickly pointed the camera and as the flash fired, the man vanished. That morning, he went to his brother’s house for breakfast, vowing never to sleep in that house again.
Lionel took the Monday off work and moved all his stuff over to his brother’s house, where he stayed until he found somewhere else. He told the photo processing house to print every exposed frame in the film. When he got the photos back, the one he’d taken at the foot of his bed showed nothing but white.
Lionel now lives on Queensland ‘s Gold Coast with a wife and kids.
Tales from the Pilliga #7
Info on the Pilliga and photo courtesy of Yonclix Yowie sighting account courtesy of AYR
The Pilliga has become a tourism mecca, with an extensive forest drive which meanders through banks of spring flowers and a remarkable abundance and variety of native birds and animal life. Licensed recreational hunters are able to shoot rabbits, hares, foxes and feral pigs, goats and cats.
Before European settlement, Aborigines maintained the Pilliga, an Aboriginal word for "swamp oak", as open woodlands with a grassy undergrowth for game by frequent burning. Squatters followed the explorers Oxley, Evans, Cunningham and Mitchell to settle first the flat river country with its permanent water supply, and then the remaining sandy plains of the scrub - modifying the vegetation by extensive ringbarking and clearing.
Burning was anathema to the pastoralists, a threat to their fences, outbuildings, homesteads and stock. But drought, rural depression, and then the invading scrub that flourished after drought-breaking rains, finally forced the abandonment of most of the holdings. And the Pilliga Scrub quietly reclaimed its own.
YOWIE SIGHTING On Friday, June 25, 2010 at around 5.30am I witnessed some great gorilla/ monkey, hairy man here near my house. The smell was so so strong smelling like fish. He is so huge and fast running, and hairy. I arise every morning at 4am and I load the truck early ready to do my run. I must say he really is so frightening to me. He was eating something at the time of being so close to him, but he dropped what he was eating and ran as fast as the wind.
When it became daylight I thought I would go and look to see what he was eating, but it was gone - he must have come back for it and went again. When I went to look, I could still smell faintly the fishy smell, which indicated he was still around, but the smell had gone. It was the ugliest monster with such an overpowering feeling I have ever seen, and so hairy, and muscly.
The picture above is exactly as I saw it. I always doubted the reality of anything to do with the 'Pilliga Yowie' - not anymore.
The Totem Pole
Excerpt from 'The Totem Pole' by Paul Pritchard Images courtesy of Supertopo and Panaramio
The day dawned cloudy and blustery. Celia and I ate banana, mango and oats, filled the Nalgene bottles from the outside tap of the toilet block, slung our rucsacs on our backs and walked off up the narrow track. The path wound all over the place and up and over fallen trees.
Celia was nervous. I attempted to make conversation, "we seem pretty lucky with the weather," but she wasn't having any of it. It was then that I realised that she didn't want to be there at all. She was doing this for me and me alone. I had been so selfish that I hadn't seen it in her or, to put it more succinctly, chose not to see it in her before, such was my obsession. Whenever I was involved in a climbing project I was completely obsessed, from the beginning until its completion.
The tormented water had the consistency of a creamy head of beer and lumps were breaking off and flying round and round in the wind that was rushing through the narrow channel. I felt nervous for the first time. It was a mad perspective from where I was hanging. The tower's twelve-foot width seemed to taper to nothing at the base and it felt strange that it should still be standing.
The rope danced in the updraft as if it were some uncontrollable serpent as we cast it loose. I put my Decender on the rope and slid over the edge watching Celia's face depart.
I was aiming for a two-foot dry patch on a half drowned boulder alongside the Totem Pole. As soon as I landed I commenced fighting for my balance on the seaweed-greased rock, first sticking my crotch out and then my arse. All the while my arms behaved like the crazy cop in the silent movies who is trying to stop Harold Lloyd's motor car.
The next minute I was up to my waist in the sea that was flushing through the narrow channel. I couldn't believe my bad luck, we only had one try at this and I just blew it. I would be hypothermic soon if I didn't get out of these soaking clothes and, besides, my boots and rope were wet and my chalk bag was full of water.
I fixed my jumar clamps onto the line and took in the slack, which is about two moves on the rope. I cut loose in a swing off the boulder.
I had to tuck my knees up to avoid getting my feet in the water as I flew around the arete ... And that is the last thing I remember - until I came around with an unearthly groan.
When I regained consciousness I was upside down, confused and there was blood pissing out of my head. I was immediately aware of the gravity of the situation. I needed to get back upright if I was to stem the flow of blood so I concentrated on shrugging my pack off. Once off, I tried again and again to get myself sat up in my harness but failed miserably. I was too weak and strangely uncoordinated. I gazed despondently down at the orange stain spreading in the salt water from an obtuse angle.
I had a moment to reflect on what seemed to be my last view. A narrow corridor of pale grey cloud flanked by two black walls, with the white foam of the sea, which was turning quickly red, right there by my head as a ceiling to my fear. I could feel the life's blood draining out of me, literally, and there was nothing I could do about it.
Suddenly Celia was there, by me, telling me sweet lies about how it was all going to be OK. "I heard a splash," she said in her Buckinghamshire/Yorkshire accent. "You've taken a little rock on your head but you've had worse." It's funny but those untruths are extremely comforting in moments like these. It's like you want to believe them, so you do.
She prussiked the thirty meters back up to the ledge and rigged up a simple two-way pulley system through a carabiner. Now, I weigh eleven stone and she weighs nine stone, so you may ask how is this humanly possible? You must have heard about the child who lifted a car off her father who was being crushed when a jack failed. There are numerous such stories of superhuman strength fuelled by adrenaline. I can only put this down to just such an event. She says it was hard, but it had to be done, she had no choice in the matter. She either did it or I died. So there was no decision to make.
Celia struggled in desperation for three hours to get me up to the ledge but faltered at the last hurdle. There was a right-angled edge to be surmounted to get me onto the ledge and the harder she pulled the tighter the rope became without moving me. "You've got to help me here if we're to get you out of this," she barked. It was the first time I'd heard her lose her composure over this whole episode. I tried to placate her by telling her not to worry but a tired moan was all that came out of my mouth.
She gave me a hug, then told me she was going to have to leave me and get help. I was terrified that it was the last time I was going to see her but I didn't show my feelings. She was probably thinking the same thoughts.
It was difficult to recognise the moment when I came round. It could have been two minutes or two days ago. I didn't know where I was. Where was up? Where was down? Where were all these tubes and wires going? Up my nose. Into the jugular vein in my neck. Into the vein in my arm. Onto a peg on the end of my finger. Nurses kept coming over to my bed to administer drugs and I could feel their icy trickle flowing down my neck or up my arm. Then, as if by magic, my pain would disappear.
I regained consciousness again and felt down below my waist with my left hand, as my right arm felt like wood, well there was no feeling in it at all. I felt down past my cock, which had a tube coming out of it as well, stretching it. I then felt lower down the bed. My left leg was intact, all the feeling of a normal leg.
But where the hell was my right leg? I frantically felt around the mattress groping, unseen. I couldn't sit up to see what they'd done with my leg. A thousand thoughts ran through my head. They've amputated my leg! Am I going to be in a wheelchair for the rest of my life or could I get by with a wooden leg? "WHAT IN FUCKS NAME HAVE YOU DONE WITH MY LEG!" I screamed out silently to a passing nurse.
Why do no words come out of my mouth? Not even an unintelligible sound. I became desperate. Then, all of a sudden, there was Celia's face, full of compassion and sorrow. She shed a tear and hid her face behind her hands. Again, I tried to speak. I wanted so much to comfort her. "Don't worry. It's going to be all right. Just fine." I hadn't a clue what had happened to me. I couldn't even remember the last place we had been.
"And by the way, I love you."
Nothing came out. I couldn't even ask the nurse whether I would be like this for the rest of my life.
Celia is attempting to communicate with me. She is saying that I am in Tasmania, in the Royal Hobart Hospital, and that I was trying to climb the Totem Pole, on the Tasman Peninsula. "You had a rock hit you in the head and you have just gone through a six hour surgery."
It doesn't make any sense. How can I be on the Totem Pole one minute and then here, in hospital, with all these tubes coming out of me the next. There's a huge, squishy hole just left of the centre on my skull and I can feel metal staples through the tape.
I remember the day now. Waking up in the tent and walking the eight kilometres out to the Totem pole. I remember the rope traverse onto the 'Pole' itself and rappelling down it. There, I can hear the roaring of the waves like distant bombs exploding. I can still smell the seaweed, like iron tastes. We were alone.
No sooner had I got to the foot of the 'Tote' than I was up to my waist in the sea. Soaking wet. I shouted to Celia to come on down, but to stop at the ledge, and to tie the rope off there. I remember putting my rope ascenders on and making two moves on it before swinging wildly to the left ... Then nothing. I don't remember anything else about the next fifteen minutes.
I am now upside down and shrugging my rucsac off into the sea. Celia is shouting at me; "You've got to help me here if we're going to get out of this." I'm being held upright in slings, the grunting and laborious haul up which I'm told took three hours. I am making noises that sound nothing like me. I lost half my blood as I lay, shaking, for ten hours on that ledge, as Celia climbed out and ran the five miles for help.
* More info at ppritchard.blogspot.com
The Dog's Life of Michael Howe
Info courtesy of www.archive.org Image from Dov.com
Michael Howe was a seaman and shipmaster in a small way in England before he took to evil courses. Having been convicted of highway robbery he was transported to Van Diemen's Land in 1812, there being assigned to a Mr. Ingle.
A servant's life (or a "dog's life," as he put it) on a station by no means suited his taste, and in a little while he made his escape to join a band of bush thieves led by a man named Whitehead. This gang, it is said, was twenty strong, comprising an ex-soldier, and two native women who made themselves invaluable as spies and trackers.
The first notable outrage they committed was to attack the settlement of New Norfolk, where they "stuck up" the settlers and obtained quantities of firearms and ammunition. Two other successful raids followed, but in the last one Whitehead was seriously wounded. At his leader's request Howe killed him, and, as the most dominant of the band, he succeeded to the command. The new chief had no small opinion of himself. He took the high-sounding title of "Governor of the Ranges," drew up formal articles of membership which his followers had to sign, and exacted the strictest obedience from them.
For some considerable time Howe evaded all pursuit and raided at will. But his own treachery was eventually his undoing. He had become attached to a native girl, known as " Black Mary," an adherent who served him loyally. One day a party of soldiers ran the pair very close, and the bushranger, to save his own skin, fired at his weaker companion to kill her before he took to his heels. However, his intention to prevent her falling into the hands of his enemies was thwarted, for the bullets did not wound her mortally. Black Mary was taken alive, and survived to head the next pursuit after the ruffian. By her persistent tracking Howe was so closely hunted that he at last sent a message to the Colonel and the Governor, offering to surrender on terms. Extraordinary as it may appear, the Colonel entered into negotiations, the bargain at length being made that in return for a pardon he should betray his comrades.
Howe yielded, and was consigned to prison pending the intercession for his liberty. But the bargain was too one-sided. Little help was afforded by him to the authorities, and in his absence the rest of the gang continued.
One morning, while taking exercise under the supervision of a single constable, Howe escaped and was soon with his old associates. Of these only a few remained, but fresh members swelled the number, for other convicts were at large in the bush ready for any enterprise.
By the treachery of one of the gang Howe was a second time brought within reach of the law. He was disarmed and bound and conducted along the road to Hobart Town, where a handsome reward awaited his captors. But once again the bushranger proved one too many for them. Getting a hand free he drew a knife, stabbed one of his two guards, and with the fellows gun shot the other dead. Thenceforth he could entertain no hope of leniency on the part of the Governor. The life of the hunted was to be his lot, and he betook himself to the bush to play it out to the end.
In order to expedite the capture of this desperate criminal Governor Sorell offered a large reward, to which was added the promise of freedom and a passage home if the fortunate claimant were a convict. This bait had the desired result. A transported sailor named Jack Worrall got in touch with one Warburton, a former companion of the bushranger. The two of them laid their plans carefully and Howe's career came to an end. The manner in which this was effected is best told in the actual words of Worrall himself.
"I was determined," he says, " to make a push for the capture of this villain, Mick Howe, for which I was promised a passage to England in the next ship that sailed, and the amount of reward laid upon his head. I found out a man of the name of Warburton, who was in the habit of hunting kangaroos for their skins, and who had frequently met Howe during his excursions, and sometimes furnished him with ammunition.
“He gave me such an account of Howe's habits that I felt convinced we could take him with a little assistance. I therefore spoke to a man named Pugh, belonging to the 48th Regiment, one who I knew was a most cool and resolute fellow. He immediately entered into my views, and having applied to Major Bell, his commanding officer, he was recommended by him to the Governor, by whom he was permitted to act, and allowed to join us.
“So he and I went directly to Warburton, who heartily entered into the scheme, and all things were arranged for putting it into execution,“ said Worrall.
"The plan was this: Pugh and I were to remain in Warburton's hut, while Warburton himself was to meet with Howe. The hut was on the River Shannon, standing so completely by itself, and so out of the track of anybody who might be feared by Howe, that there was every probability 'of accomplishing our wishes, and thus ' scotch the snake,' as they say, if not kill it.
“Pugh and I accordingly went to the appointed hut. We arrived there before daybreak, and having made a hearty breakfast, Warburton set out to seek Howe. He took no arms with him, in order to still more effectually carry his point, but Pugh and I were provided with muskets and pistols. The sun had just been an hour up when we saw Warburton and Howe upon the top of the hill coming towards the hut. We expected they would be with us in a quarter of an hour, and so we sat down upon the trunk of a tree inside the hut, calmly waiting their arrival.”
“An hour passed, but they did not come, and I crept to the door cautiously and peeped out. There I saw them standing within a hundred yards of us in earnest conversation; as I learned afterwards, the delay arose from Howe suspecting that all was not right. I drew back from the door to my station, and about ten minutes after this we plainly heard footsteps and the voice of Warburton.
"Another moment and Howe slowly entered the hut — his gun presented and cocked. The instant he espied us he cried out ' Is that your game? ' and immediately fired, but Pugh's activity prevented the shot from taking effect, for he knocked the gun aside. Howe ran off like a wolf. I fired but missed. Pugh then halted and took aim at him, but also missed. I immediately flung away the gun and ran after Howe; Pugh also pursued; Warburton was a considerable distance away.
I ran very fast; so did Howe; and if he had not fallen down an unexpected bank, I should not have been fleet enough for him. This fall, however, brought me up with him; he was on his legs and preparing to climb a broken bank, which would have given him a free run into the wood, when I presented my pistol at him and desired him to stand; he drew forth another, but did not level it at me. We were then about fifteen yards from each other, the bank he fell from being between us.
"He stared at me with astonishment, and to tell you the truth, I was a little astonished at him, for he was covered with patches of kangaroo skins, and wore a black beard — a haversack and powder horn slung across his shoulders. I wore my beard also, and a curious pair we looked. After a moment's pause he cried out, ' Black beard against grey beard for a million! ' and fired. I slapped at him, and I believe hit him, for he staggered, but rallied again, and was clearing the bank between him and me when Pugh ran up and with the butt-end of his firelock knocked him down, jumped after him, and battered his brains out, just as he was opening a clasp knife to defend himself."
Wife Carrying champs a Cracka
Story by Deefer Bloomfield Photos courtesy of Millie Ford
It is the type of event usually reserved for one's wedding night, but for Keith 'Cracka' Horne it just happened to be the start of a journey to the World Wife Carrying Titles in Sonkajarvi in Finland.
After his original 'wife' Emma Mellows pulled out, Cracka needed a replacement fast before venturing to the World's in the small Finnish village. Enter Caitlin Andrews.
The Hunter duo competed against about 50 other competitors from around the world and finished a credible 13th.
"The Finnish course was a staggering 254 metres long with two hurdles and a waist deep water course," said Cracka.
"The water was only five degrees and I was worried about my legs locking up."
While the couple weren't victorious there is no denying the first prize is worth fighting for as the winner of the world titles is awarded the partner’s weight in beer.
Maybe 2011 is the year? I might even enter myself.
Robbery Under Arms
Info courtesy of Wikipedia Photo of Ben Marston's cave by Paul Denham
Robbery Under Arms is a classic Australian novel by Rolf Boldrewood (a pseudonym for Thomas Alexander Browne). It was first published in serialised form by the Sydney Mail between July 1882 and August 1883, then in three volumes in London in 1888. It was edited into a single volume in 1889 as part of Macmillan's Colonial Library series and has not been out of print since.
It is considered to be one of the greatest Australian colonial novels, along with Marcus Clarke's For the Term of his Natural Life.
Writing in the first person, the narrator Dick Marston tells the story of his life from his abusive upbringing at the hands of his father Ben and loves and his association with the notorious bushranger Captain Starlight, a renegade from a noble English family.
Dick documents his first exposure to his father's crimes, the theft of a red calf, and the disapproval of this crime by his mother, who says she thought he had given up stealing since the theft which lead to his transportation as a convict from England.
Set in the bush and goldfields of Australia in the 1850s, Starlight's gang, with Dick and his brother Jim's help, sets out on a series of escapades that include cattle theft and robbery under arms.
The Valley Ghost PART 1
The following story was found amongst my Great Grandfathers papers by his son Stanley Fowler after George passed away in 1925. George Fowler was a Journalist and Correspondent for many N.S.W County News Papers. He relayed his adventures in print as news to the public of the day. His travels and stories cover the years from 1868 until a few weeks before his death. Laraine Dillon
Story by George Fowler Photo of Johnny Gilbert courtesy of Gold Net Photo of James Warn courtesy of Laraine Dillon
Strange things have happened and still do happen in the Australian bush. Things for which there is no logical explanation especially if one happens to be bush bread.
Within its own people the bush implants a sort of sixth sense, a keenness of perception, a sensitiveness to Nature’s phenomena which those not of the brother-hood may envy, but can sometimes acquire.
On May 13th, 1864, there occurred at widely separate places in the Southern Tablelands of N.S.W two events which, unknown at the time to the surviving participants, were closely linked, and which were as the years passed to prove the first of a chain of sinister happenings which wrecked several lives and for many years gave the thirteenth day of May an evil significance around Goulburn and Crookwell.
I was born in the Crookwell district in the 1870’s the bushranger known as Johnny Gilbert was by no means forgotten by my parents and their neighbours, who for a long time in the early 1860’s had lived in a state of mingled fear, admiration and envy of the gang of bushrangers led by Gilbert. My Father who had known Gilbert and his partner in crime Ben Hall, and our cousin neighbours the Warn family often told us tales of the gangs exploits. When my father George Fowler died he left a mass of old papers and records among which I found a host of material written at the time or soon afterwards describing some of the outstanding events in Gilberts career which my father always stoutly maintained did not end until long after his death by a policeman’s bullet.
How Gilbert keep a promise to my Uncle Henry Warn, and what followed was often told us children by the old Dad, and the Warn Cousins confirmed his account in every detail.
On the night of January 6th 1864, Johnny Gilbert, with Ben Hall and Dunn, members of his gang, rode quietly up to Warns homestead at the Valley, Crookwell, and dismounted, hitching their horses to a split- rail fence enclosing a cherry orchard adjoining the house. At the time Henry warn had an Arab stud headed by an imported stallion named Cassim Baba, and he used periodically to take large mobs of horses to the Melbourne and Adelaide markets. Gilbert at one time had worked for Mr. Warn as a horse-breaker, and was a recognized expert with horses.
The family, including three sons and a daughter, were finishing supper when Gilbert walked into the room through the open door, closely followed by Hall and Dunn, and told them to keep their seats, as he was “bailing them up.” “Why bail me up Johnny? Didn’t I treat you right when you worked for me?” asked warn. “ That’ s right, Mr. Warn” was the reply; but were not going to do you any harm. We are only after some of your horses. We have been pushed pretty hard lately and we got to have fresh mounts. I’m taking that race horse of yours, the one you’ve got in training.”
“Don’t take Waverly, I’ve got him ready to win the Goulburn,” Warn protested. “Sorry, Mr. Warn, but I’ll promise you one thing, I’ll return him to you when I’ve done a little job near Goulburn.”
“A lot of good he’ll be to race when you’ve done with him” Warn said with bitterness in his voice he could not hide. Then, making the best of a bad situation, he invited his unwanted guests to sit down and have a cup of tea, That night the bushrangers camped at the Valley, and in the morning took one of the Warn boys to guide them to the neighboring station, where they stole several horses. Returning to Warns the next day, they selected the horses they wanted from the Valley stud and that evening departed, Gilbert mounted on Waverly and riding a new saddle young Harry had just bought back from Sydney.
It was Gilbert’s boast that he never stole from “the women or kids”, and in exchange for the saddle gave young Henry a diamond ring, saying it would buy him a dozen saddles. Harry wore that ring for many years after Gilbert was dead, and had reason eventually to believe that Gilbert had repented the exchange.
Having learned that a squatter from Goulburn named Faithfull had imported from England a couple of breach loading rifles, the first to be bought out into the Colony; Gilbert had made up his mind to have them at any cost. This we always believed afterwards to be “the little job near Goulburn” he had mentioned to Warne. A day or two after leaving the Valley Farm the bushrangers called at the Faithfull homestead and hearing that the squatters two sons were out shooting wild turkey on the plains, decided they would go after them and collect their weapons, the such desired breach-loader.
For once, however they has miscalculated seeing them coming and guessing their identity, the youngsters, instead of being cowed, took refuge in a covered wagon in which they had been camping and opened fire with their superior weapons Gilbert who was armed with a carbine and mounted on Waverly prepared to return their fire from the saddle. As he pressed the trigger for his first shot, however the horse threw up his head, the bullet entering his brain and killing him instantly. Gilbert was thrown to the ground, and sought refuge behind a nearby fence-post.
To prove their marksmanship, the Faithfull's put several bullets into the post but without injuring the bushranger
Seeing Gilberts plight, Hall galloped up and, taking Gilbert up behind him rode off signaling to Dunn to follow, the Faithfull's making no further attempt to prevent their escape.
The Valley Ghost PART 2
* Continued from PART 1
A little more than four months later, on a night of May the 13th, Jim Warne, the eldest son, rose from the table at which the family had just finished supper and picking up two empty buckets, went outside, intending to water a couple of stock horses, which were always kept stalled, when they were to be used the following morning.
The night was windy and clouds scudded across the face of the moon, which was at the full, casting light, which it shed over the home clearing and the surrounding bush to wax and wane. The wailing of the wind in the trees and their sobbing protest drowned all other sound. About ten yards from the door of the detached kitchen used by the family as a living room there stood two large water casks containing the household supply, and from these Jim Warne intended to fill his buckets.
As he stepped out of the door he noticed a man in the act of lifting a bucket from one of the casks. He heard the water swirling around the cask as the figure moved off in the direction of the stables. Thinking it was some neighbour who had ridden up and was attending to his horse before entering the house, an action still not unusual in the bush, Warne filled his buckets and followed the stranger. It did not strike him at the time, but afterwards he recalled that the only bucket on the place besides those he was carrying was standing half full of water near the big open fireplace in the kitchen.
At the stable door, he set his buckets down and stepped inside, one stable building was stoutly built of stone, and the darkness inside was like a black velvet curtain. Feeling in his pocket, Warn took out a tin box of matches and struck a light.
From a ledge above the door he took a white whisky bottle that served as a candlestick, and lighting the candle called out, “where are you? Didn’t you know where the light was kept”
There was no reply, holding the candle up he moved into the stable towards the stalls in which were the horses he had come to water. As he approached he saw the animals were shivering with fright, the one on the further and next to an empty stall being in a lather of sweat.
With the candle held well above his head so that it would throw better light he approached the third stall. Where leaning across the neck of a third horse stood the person he had followed.
“Good night stranger” he said didn’t you hear me call out?” The man lifted his head “It’s me Johnny Gilbert. I’ve bought Waverly back as promised.”
As Gilbert spoke, a suspicion that all was not right aroused by the state of his own two horses became a certainty in Jim's mind. A sudden clammy terror seized him and held him speechless and motionless, his mind meantime feverishly seeking an explanation which he felt would release him from the growing sense of horror that gripped him. The man was John Gilbert right enough, though his face was ghastly paler than he had ever seen before in a living man, his eyes too glowed like coals. But Waverly was dead – had been for three or four months past, and his bones lay bleached on the plains, and yet the horse on which Gilbert's hand was resting was Waverly. Surly he knew the horse he had trained for the Goulburn meeting and yes, there was his brand; “W” in a circle on its shoulder.
Powerless to speak or move, he stood trance like in a cold sweat, he never knew how long. And then, faintly above the sound of the wind in the trees, he heard an owl hoot. Vaulting into the saddle it was not, Warn noticed, young Harry’s new saddle Gilbert gave an answering hoot and swung Waverly’s head around towards the open stable door.
As Warn felt horse and rider brush past him in the inky darkness without haste he felt not the warmth of living flesh and blood, but a dark and clammy coldness. He was the light from the stable doorway for an instant as they passed through and then the spell that held him broke and he sprang back, dropping the candle and stumbling into a corner or one of the stalls as he did so. Then hell broke loose in the darkness. Mad with fear, the two stock horses crashed through the rails of their stalls and galloped off into the night.
Hearing the commotion, the other members of the family rushed out to where they found Jim lying unconscious. They carried him into the kitchen, and as he came to his first words were “ I saw Gilberts Ghost.”
“But Gilbert is not dead his father proclaimed, “why it’s only three days since he struck up Campbell’s place near Bungonia.”
“I tell you it was Gilbert I say alright. We know Waverly is dead and yet he is riding Waverly. I know my own brand when I see it, and it was on that horse all right.”
“Gilbert must be dead”, said Mrs. Warn. “He promised to return Waverly and that is how he’s done it, he has kept his promise.”
Next morning daylight dispelled much of the horror of the night and jumbled nerves regained their accustomed steadiness. Jim Warn began to doubt his own impressions of the night’s events, vivid though they were. Perhaps some neighbor has been playing a practical joke on him. Going to the stable he sought out the tracks of the third horse, but neither in the stall or among the confused tracks left by the family in the soft mud outside the door could he find any trace of the visitor, neither hose nor man. The slip rails at the bottom of the paddock were lying broken in the getaway, but there the only tracks he found were those of the two stock horses. Also absent was the bucket he had seen the stranger carrying.
He had seen Gilberts Ghost of that he was convinced.
In the crisp clean dawn of an Autumn day in the year of 1864 John Roberts stood with his back to a giant Gum tree which crowned a gentle slope in a bush clearing in Binalong near Yass. In his hands a high powered rifle with a revolving breach containing six chambers, a weapon which had become legendary among the dwellers of the bush, had twice misfired, in disgust he threw it to the ground as he watched a figure approach him slowly in a series of short rushes, making the most of the scanty cover available.
The crack of a carbine broke the peace of the morning and Roberts fell, a bullet through his heart. Thus died Johnny Gilbert alias Roberts perhaps the most romantic, as he was certainly one of the most notorious, figures among Australian bushrangers.
Death did not; however end his extraordinary domination of the districts which in life he had so long held in thrall by the fantastic chivalry of his methods of leaving tribute from squatters and from those who traveled Her Majesty’s highways upon their lawful occasions.
It was on May the 13th that Gilbert stood and watched Death in the guise of a police trooper stalking him in the Binalong clearing. In those days news traveled slowly in the bush, and young Jim Warn knew nothing of the mornings tragedy when he rose from the family supper table that night in the homestead of his father at the Valley station in Crookwell and walked across to the stable to learn that Gilberts reputation as a man of his word whether he promised retribution or restitution, was founded on something more substantial than bush gossip.
Three days later, news reached the Valley of the tragedy at Binalong . When it was realized that Jims adventure in the stable had occurred on the night of the shooting , not only the Warn family, but also the settlers for miles around were convinced that Gilbert had done his best to keep faith with a man who had been more friend than foe to him.
This incident was not the last of Johnny Gilbert. In the years that followed, a number of settlers who had in one way or another came into contact with Gilbert during his bush- ranging career underwent some strange, and sometimes fatal experiences, and it was many years before Gilberts Ghost, “The Valley Ghost” ceased finally to trouble the dwellers in his former happy hunting ground.
* Photo of the stables where Johnny Gilbert's ghost was seen. Photo courtesy of Laraine Dillon.
* Additional photo of Johnny Gilbert courtesy of Gold Net.
Diggers Beach washes up rare creature
Info courtesy of LL Staffers Photo by Peter Atkinson
Diggers Beach at Coffs Harbour is normally reserved for swimmers, surfers and sunbakers but a recent Father's Day discovery that washed in with the tide changed all that.
The rare find revived memories of Canada's Montauk Monster and if the official channels are to be believed, then the photo you see above is no more then a washed up brush-tailed possum.
Others like photographer Peter Atkinson are not so sure.
"It was found on the high water mark and we contacted National Parks, but it appears the animal was washed back out to sea on the next tide.
Others believe it’s a type of monkey, while some are of the opinion it could be a South American sloth.
A spokesperson from Taronga Zoo was contacted for further clarification.
"The lack of fur around the paws and face is possibly due to dermatitis or may have come about through burn injuries,'' the spokesperson said.
Or maybe, just maybe ... it could be something else.
The story of Mr Eternity
Info courtesy of Warren Fahey Image courtesy of www.nma.gov.au
The writer of 'Eternity' was a mystery until 1956 when the Rev lisle Thompson of the Burton Street Baptist Church saw Arthur Stace (who could barely write his own name) writing, in perfect copperplate script, 'eternity' on the pavement. "Are you Mr Eternity?" he enquired, "Guilty your Honour" Stace replied.
Born in a slum at Balmain in 1884. His schooling was non-existent and at age 12 he became a ward of the State. At 14 he commenced work in a coal mine and succumbed to alcohol.
At 15 he continued a family tradition and was sent to gaol. He served in WW1 and returned to Australia and his old lifestyle.
In the Depression he found God. He married and lived in Pyrmont with his wife Pearl. He would rise at 4am every day and commence his work of writing Eternity on Sydney's streets returning home at 10am. Always primly dressed. Usually in a double-breasted suit and felt hat he became a familiar sight.
He died aged 83 on 30 July, 1967. His iconic Eternity has passed into local lore and was used as a giant message on the Sydney Harbour Bridge for a 1990s New Year's Eve.
A Local Legend indeed.
Someone's At The Door
Story by Ed Di Mallren Photo by Snoopy Mars
There are numerous stories about haunted houses, spooky sites and scary buildings. From the Pilliga Half Man to the Monte Cristo, Australia has them all.
These next stories are no different.
BINNAWAY'S LITTLE GIRL LOST
Binnaway has a local legend about a little girl who once disappeared in woodlands near her family property in the early part of last century. The story goes that she is Binnaway's Little Girls Lost.
Despite a massive search she was never found and the story goes that now her ghost turns up at the old house, knocks and then vanishes as the new occupants answer the door - and yes there have been a few over the years.
PANCAKE MANOR Info courtesy ghost-tours.com
There is also the yarn about the Pancake Manor is a Brisbane institution and has been around in one form or another for more than a quarter of a century. The main dining room, originally part of the church which graced the site is said to be particularly eerie.
Staff have felt cold chills in the main section of the dining room and others have seen shadows and plates have fallen down.
PROSPECT HALL Info courtesy of Warren Fahey
Ghost Prospect Hall Adelaide has the ghostly carriage, which drives up to the door. A woman in white silk gets out, walks up to the door and proceeds to peer in any uncurtained window. Then disappears.
Send us your eerie ghost stories today and watch this space for more supernatural tales. Now enjoy the video sent to us below.
UFO sighting near Wamberal
Story by Weyland Maunder Photo by Daniel Smith
It was around 6.45am one morning pn Wednesday, June 9, when Central Coast local Sharon Smith looked out the window of her home and saw something she had never seen before. Something unidentifiable, something hovering in the air.
“It was a quiet, still morning when I saw this bright white light,” Mrs Smith said.
“I screamed out to Daniel (my son), who was sitting at the table eating breakfast and we both ran out on to the deck and watched this bright white light move about.
“It was there for about five to ten minutes and it kept moving quite fast and then it would stop and then it would move again,” Mrs Smith said.
“It just kept climbing up and up and then it went behind the trees and we lost it.”
Both Sharon and her son Daniel say they have never seen anything like it before or since and while they aren’t followers of UFO's they aren't sure what it was or where it might have come from.
“I think there has to be something else out there.
“All I know is that I have never seen anything like it before,” Mrs Smith said.
“It definitely wasn’t a plane or a helicopter and it didn’t have a tail, but I don’t know what it could have been,” Daniel said.
You be the judge.
The Red Moon
Story by Deefer Bloomfield Photo by Snoopy Mars
On June 26th, 2010 a strange event occurred over the Australian sky.
Volcanic ash from Iceland made the Earth's moon appear red for much of the world including here, much of Asia and the Americas.
The Earth's shadow cast across the moon's surface over a three-hour time lapse and began at 3.17am on June 26 attracting many viewers from across the globe to witness such a rare event.
The moon never completely dimmed during the partial lunar eclipse but it was a sight to match all its predecessors as the horizon glowed a Mars-like red.
Astronomers stated that the Earth's shadow fell upon over 50% of the moon's disk making it darker then at no other time - a rare event indeed.
The next lunar eclipse will occur in Australia on December 21st, 2010 and will be visible from other parts of the world as well including most of the Asian-Oceanic rim and throughout the Americas.
Great Aussie Survival Stories
Info courtesy of Top Tenz Photo by Paul Denham
1. SOPHIE TUCKER - A cattle dog from Australia named Sophie Tucker became the latest legendary castaway when she fell overboard during a family yachting trip in November 2008. Not only did the four-year-old swim through five miles of shark infested waters to a nearby island off Queensland, but she then learned to hunt the local goats and koalas to live until her family finally tracked her down.
2. DOUGLAS MAWSON - This Australian was a key figure in the so-called Heroic Age of Antarctic Exploration. His Australian Antarctic Expedition, which begun in December 1911, however, nearly saw the end of his adventures forever. He was the only survivor in his team after his fellow explorer, Lieutenant Ninnis, fell through a crevice with the dogs and supplies and were lost. The other member of his exploration team, Xavier Mertz, died from a combination of weakness, cold and vitamin A poisoning from eating dog livers. Ironically, Mawson fed the weaker Mertz the dog livers thinking they were more nourishing than the muscle tissue of the dogs which led to Hypervitaminosis A. Mawson continued alone and fell into a crevasse and saved himself by wedging his sledge above him. So bad was his condition when he arrived at base camp, his rescuer exclaimed, “My God, which one are you?”
3. JON MUIR AND SERAPHINE - Travelling 2,500 kilometres across Australia, Jon Muir and his dog Seraphine walked from Port Augusta at the top of Spencer Gulf on the South Australian coast to Burketown on the Gulf of Carpentaria. This was Muir’s fourth attempt to undertake this odyssey and Seraphine’s second. The journey was not an easy one. Muir, in his attempt to live off the land in the manner of the indigenous Australians, faced most of the challenges that this harsh land can dish out to him – drought, scorching heat, torrential rain, wild dingoes, hunger, loneliness, physical and mental exhaustion. Nevertheless, he accomplished his mission in just 128 days. It is a tribute to Muir’s resilience that, despite losing one third of his bodyweight over the course of the journey, he embarked upon a journey to the North Pole only four months later.
An Australian Ghost Story
* New video posting - courtesy of The Extraordinary
The Doomed Life of Henry Savery
Story courtesy of A.K. MacDougall from his book 'An Anthology of Classic Australian Folklore' Image courtesy of University of Tasmania
Henry Savery is remembered as Australia's first novellist and author of a number of essays. He was also a forger and a failed businessman and spent much of his time in gaol for forging cheques and money during the early 1800s.
Born in Bristol, bad luck seemed to dog his life from his failed attempts to make a living out of the sugar industry which lead to bankruptcy, to losing the love of his life to new attorney-general Algernon Montague on the high seas as she came across to see him to finally the forgeries that lead to his incarceration.
Savery did enjoy a short period of good fortune when he was released from gaol in van Diemen's Land and gained work as a government clerk and then a newspaper editor but it was to be short lived.
Upon sentencing for forgery again by ironically, Montague, to the penal settlement of Port Arthur, Savery cut his own throat there in February 1842.
Tales from the Pilliga #6
Info courtesy of Australian Yowie Research Photo courtesy of visitnarrabri.com
Below are a collection of case sightings of the Yowie from the Pilliga:
Pilliga Township 1993 - Giant size Footprints
In April 1993 a stockman found three sets of giant-size footprints embedded in creek mud near Pilliga township.
Pilliga Scrub 1993 - Tall female Hominid
There have been in recent years a number of hairy man-like creature sightings reported in the Pilliga Scrub north of Coonabarabran in recent years, and in June 1993 a 2m tall female hominid was claimed seen drinking on all fours at a remote waterhole.
Many stories concern the vast stretch of Pilliga scrub though which passes the Newell Highway between Coonabarabran and Narrabri. Many truckies refuse to pull over to sleep on that eerie stretch at night, for fear of attacks by the creatures. Their fears are not entirely unjustified.
There have been some quite believable accounts; of dark, hairy man-ape shapes seen by resting drivers on moonlight nights; of one or more of these nocturnal hominids seen wandering across the deserted road; and other, more terrifying reports, such as the truckie who woke up one night to find a hairy face peering at him through his closed driver's window.
Wee Waa 1999 - Large Footprints
During 1999 rumours circulated around the Wee Waa district that a large hairy man-ape creature of 2.4m or so in height and very muscular in appearance, was roaming the scrublands thereabouts, and that he was responsible for a number of dead sheep found at one bushland location, their limbs wrenched from their sockets. Large footprints were left by the hairy manbeast about the scene of this mass 'kill'. Bushmen with guns and dogs scoured the region but failed to find any further traces of the mystery hominid, as he apparently moved on elsewhere.
Hobbling
Story by Daniel Dreml Image courtesy of HP Gibson
In the late 1800s, the Kimberley Diamond mines in South Africa began operation with many of the natives used as slaves during these apartheid years. Many native Africans would often keep diamonds for themselves and make a run for it and when caught, cruel Dutch overseers would ensure that the natives would not run again but still be able to work. So the term 'hobbling' was invented.
It also resonated throughout Australia's early culture and other references can also be seen in the acclaimed Stephen King book 'Misery.'
Hobbling, for the uninformed, requires a piece of wood laid bare between both ankles of the offender/ victim while the the antagonist breaks them with a claw hammer or some other industrial work tool. The pain is said to be excruciating and is an instant ankle breaker. It certainly does what it is designed to do - ensuring that the victim cannot walk let alone run.
In early days in this Great Southern Land, the practice was also used to great effect whether it be on convicts or natives. It also made one think twice before planning a daring escape ever again.
The 13 Steps to Death
Story and photo by Dane Millerd Additional info courtesy of Wikipedia
The number 13 is associated with bad luck in some countries, and even has a specifically recognized phobia, Triskaidekaphobia, a word which was coined in 1911.
Friday the 13th has been considered an unlucky day since the 1800s, as a combination between an unlucky day, Friday, and the number 13.
Another theory as to why the date and number 13 is considered unlucky is that, on the day of Friday the 13th after the final Crusade the pope had sent out men to capture and burn alive the last 13 Templar knights in order to put an end to the Crusades.
'The 13 Steps' is associated with the unlucky 13 steps to the gallows taken by the condemned before they were hanged.
Dubbo Gaol was no different with many prisoners sent to their fate up these very 13 steps.
Yes, the 13 steps to death were a dreaded walk for any accused male or female charged with having to take them into the next life.
The Geyer Brothers daring escape
Story and photo by Dane Millerd
It seemed like a good idea at the time and it was certainly inventive. The daring escape by the Geyer brothers from Dubbo gaol ranks as one of the prisons most unsuccessful.
It began in 1958 when the brothers tried to escape by burning a hole in the ceiling of their cell. Their plan was to crawl into the roof cavity crawlspace by pulling back some iron sheeting.
One of them would then jump down and attack a single warden on night duty while the other acted as a lookout above.
Alerted to their plan by smoke from the burning ceiling, the warden was able to gather reinforcements by the time the brothers appeared on the roof and it was not long thereafter that the brothers were apprehended.
The Geyer brothers were sent to solitary confinement for their escape attempt and from all reports they never tried it again.
Common Aussie Myths
Info courtesy of Amazing Australia Photo courtesy of www.digital-photo.com
Scientists at Air New Zealand built a gun specifically to launch dead chickens at the windshields of airliners travelling at maximum velocity. The idea is to simulate the frequent incidents of collisions with airborne fowl to test the strength of the windshields. Australian engineers heard about the gun and were eager to test it on the windshields of their new Qantas A380 aircraft. Arrangements were made, and a gun was sent to the Australian engineers. When the gun was fired, the engineers stood shocked as the chicken hurled out of the barrel, crashed into the shatterproof shield, smashed it to smithereens, blasted through the control console, snapped the engineer's back-rest in two and embedded itself in the back wall of the cabin like an arrow shot from a bow. The horrified Aussies sent Air New Zealand the disastrous results of the experiment, along with the designs of the windshield and begged the Kiwi scientists for suggestions....... Air New Zealand responded with a one-line memo: "Defrost the chicken......"
Many people believe that Captain Cook discovered Australia, but all he did was steal it off the Dutch! When Cook left the UK for his long journey south, he was given instructions to take possession of the big southern continent, and a map drawn up by the Dutch, showing the continent New Holland where the Dutch had already gone ashore in 1606 when 'the Duyfken' landed up the top of Cape York. Also he was a lieutenant at the time and was only later on return to England promoted to Captain.
Many people that want to see the World Heritage listed Daintree rainforest in North Queensland head to Daintree Village, presuming this will be set in the middle of the jungle. Unfortunately there was a rush to log all the prized red cedar trees in the late 1800s and so the village is now surrounded by green fields where the cows graze and the rainforest has been missing around here for the last 100 years or so, you can now only see old black and white photos of the giant trees in the town's timber museum. The town is still a relaxed place to visit with some nice accommodation like Redmill House. This is a good place to overnight before heading out on the excellent (very)-early-morning bird watching tour of Dan Irby . There are also several crocodile cruise tour operators in this town but if your interest lies in the Daintree rainforest you really need to turn off about five km. before the town to take the ferry across the Daintree river up to Cape Tribulation.
Fosters does lots of advertising overseas to promote its beer as THE Australian beer so many tourists arriving in Australia are surprised to discover that Australians drink other beers. You can place a safe bet on it that, should you see anyone drinking Fosters in Australia, it is a tourist !
This brand of car is considered THE Australian car and has been sold in Australia since 1948, named after car dealer Sir Edward Holden. Ironically it is owned by U.S. giant General Motors which take the profits back to the States but Aussies have always conveniently ignored this fact and the Holden Kingswood was as much of an essential item for every Aussie household as the Hills Hoist, Esky and barbeque.
This children's song became reality in January 1990 when a rock formation known as London Bridge suddenly collapsed. For many years day trippers had walked out along this natural bridge to the big rock at the end but after sitting there for possible millions of years the bridge spontaneously collapsed in January 1997 leaving two people stranded on the rock who had to wait several hours for a helicipter to arrive to ferry them back to the mainland. There is an urban myth that these two people were not actually a couple but both cheating on their repective partners and then got caught out getting their faces on national television but we do not know if this holds truth or not. Tell us if you can clear up this myth!
Many people think that rainforests are always infested with mosquitoes and poisonous snakes and spiders that will fall out of the trees and attack for no reason. This myth is kept alive by James Bond, Indiana Jones and Steve Irwin movies but the truth is diffferent. At Cape Tribulation in the Daintree national park in the oldest rainforest in the world there is not one poisonous spider, the redback and the funnelweb do not live here and they are the only two poisonous spiders in Australia. Poisonous snakes are more often found in open grassland and snakes seen in this forest are usually pythons or tree snakes, both totally harmless to humans. The mosquito situation also comes as a surprise to many people. If you sit still in daytime eventually some mosquitoes will smell the carbon monoxide in your breath and come and dance around your face. But when it gets dark they all disappear and through the night there will be nothing to bother you!
Koalas tend to preserve their energy as they are hard pressed to get enough nutrients from the gum leaves they eat, it is a myth that they are incapacitated by being totally stoned from the chemicals in the gum leaves.
Of course, none of these myths are true but gee we have fun telling foreigners that they are!
Tales from the Pilliga #5
Story by Cassandra Hamilton Image by Ed Di Mallren
My friend and I were driving along the Newell Highway at 3am, from Narrabri to Coonabarrabran before the turnoff to Gunnedah, we would have been travelling about 90 kms an hour. We had another party with us in another vehicle. We had the windows down and the stereo blaring to keep us awake. There were a lot of dead kangaroos on the road. We saw in the driving lights up ahead, what looked like a large wild pig.
I slowed down a bit, and flicked the lights to scare it off. I changed down to third gear, and flicked the lights again, but the thing still didn’t move. There was a truck coming toward us from the opposite direction, it was probably 700 metres away from us at that time.
I dropped down to second, and flicked the lights again.
I said to my mate “s**t have a look at this!”
He replied “What the f***’s that?”
This thing was on it’s hands and knees over a roo carcass in the centre of the carriageway. The head was bobbing up and down as if it was eating, we never saw it eat, but that was the impression we got.
This thing stood straight up, just like you or I would, from a kneeling position, and stood and looked at the car. It was brownish/red colour, and it had no neck (it must have been a rugby player) and I remember lots of wild hair about 2 or 3 inches long, and even a lot of facial hair. We were so stunned, that I nearly drove straight into it.
I stand 6 foot 5, so I estimate this thing was at least 7 and a 1/2 foot if not 8 foot tall. At the distance we were from it, the driving lights didn’t even reach up to it’s face, so we didn’t really get a good look at it. It was a solid thing, a distinct shape of a person, with very broad shoulders. In proportion, the arms hung just below the crutch line just like ours do.
What amazed us most was that the crutch line was nearly at roof height of our car! I had to go onto the other side of the road to get around it, with the truck still coming at us. As we passed it, we got this horrible smell, like someone had vomited all over the place. As we drove past it, it just slowly turned, by moving it’s feet and watched us, I looked into the rear view mirror, and could still see it there, staring at the car. I quickly dropped into first, and did a quick turn around. At this stage we were about 50 metres from it, and it was fully lit in the driving lights.
Once we had turned around, it bent down, picked up the roo carcass and dragged it off into the bush.
We never saw it again...
The Ghost of Deep Creek Bridge
Story by Peter Konnecke via warrenfahey.com Image by Deefer Bloomfield
Legend has it that on Sunday nights the ghost of a young woman appears standing in the middle of the road near the Deep Creek bridge on Wakehurst Parkway at Narrabeen (Sydney). The story was relayed to me by several different (unconnected) people who I knew in the early to mid 1980's.
Many of us thought it might have been the ghost of Trudie Adams who disappeared without trace in the late 70's from the Newport Surf Club. But some variants of this story say it's the ghost of a nurse killed in ad M.V.A. on her way home from a shift at Mona Vale Hospital.
The ghost is supposed to stand still and then you drive right through her only to look in the rear vision mirror to see her behind you!
Orbs and ghost footage
* Watch this video of ghost footage/ photos captured in Australia. More to follow.
The Scone Yowie
Story courtesy of Rex Gilroy Image by Dane Millerd
While employed with a large mining company Wayne Caban had an experience with the Scone Yowie carrying out an exploration program of the Gummi River, at the headwaters of the Manning River near Tomala in the Barrington Range area.
Wayne was with the company from October 1973 to February 1974, during which time he learnt of many strange things in the area from among mining acquaintances. He said -
"When I began my employment I was asked by Barry Mathews, a contractor who hailed from Armidale, if I knew anything about a so-called 'gorilla' which was said to roam around The Tops area and had been seen from time to time by timber cutters.
"One night in mid-January 1974 I was left alone in the camp on the third night on this lone vigil. I laid on this bunk in the caravan which Barry Mathews and I occupied together watching television. The night outside was pitch dark and pouring rain to boot. All seemed well until I suddenly felt a mighty thump against the top side of the caravan, followed within seconds by the van being lifted as though something or someone was trying to push it over."
Wayne yelled loudly and the van was immediately dropped. The only light in the van was coming from the television screen. Wayne jumped off his bunk and leapt the length of the van to grab and light a gas lantern, which was thankfully stowed in a cupboard at the time.
As he lit the lamp he heard a commotion outside and knew that something had tipped over a table left outside the van, and which was laden with cooking utensils. Then he heard the same sounds in the general direction of a six-man tent pitched a few yards from his caravan.
"I knew it was not a bull or a steer for there was no noise involved, such as there would have been had a bovine been the culprit. It was dark and wet outside and I had no intentions of going out to check on anything."
Wayne grabbed and loaded the .270 rifle that he always kept in the van, and sat there waiting for whatever it was too hit the van again; for by now Wayne held fears that it was indeed the "gorilla."
But the "thing", whatever it was, left the camp without another sound. Wayne Caban said -
"When daylight came I checked outside for damage. I found the table had been hurled some distance from its original position with pots, pans and dishes scattered all around the camp."
Reluctant to think it was anything but a bovine he began to look for hoof prints but failed to find any. What he did find were enormous footprints in the mud about the camp grounds.
When the crew returned to the camp Wayne told them of his experience and showed them the footprints. They all agreed that the creature had indeed been the mysterious "gorilla".
The Gippsland Mountain Lion
* Watch the video on this special investigation into the big cat phenomenon in western Victoria.
Found
Story and photo by Steed Litten Info courtesy of AT
We have previewed everyone from the Bumbling Brit to Ricky Magee and their remarkable tails of survival in the outback. This one is just as extraordinary.
In January 2009, an experienced Romanian hiker, who’d previously traversed places such as South America and Asia, got a shock when he became lost for a week during a 45km walk near Uluru.
He ran out of food and water on day three and had to head back. Once within mobile phone range – which is pretty incredible because the reception is sporadic at best out there – he managed to alert rescuers by getting a message to his family back in Romania, including his GPS location.
Rescuers said it was this fact alone that saved the man, which proves how important it is to be well prepared in the food, water and GPS stakes before venturing into the unknown.
Tales from the Pilliga #4
Story info courtesy of Neogaf Image by Dane Millerd
Constable Warren of the Coonabarabran Police stated in a Queensland newspaper some time ago that truck drivers had erected signs that say "Beware of Yowies, next 121km" along the Newell Highway in the well known Yowie hot spot of the Pilliga Scrub.
"Its really quite amazing. One Victorian driver returning from Queensland drove more than 50km the night with two blown tyres because he was too scared to stop on the roadside. The driver said he was not going to take any chances," said Constable Warren.
He continued to say that, "Another bloke was asleep in the cabin when he heard this thump, thump, thump. He said he was too frightened to investigate and drove his truck to Narrabri. When he got there he found two running boards had been pulled off his truck.
"Another said that he felt his tarpaulin being shifted while parked one night," explained Warren.
"He said it was dead calm and when he got up the courage to investigate and he found that one side had been pulled down about ten feet!
"One thing is for sure, none of the truckies dared to block the Newell in Pilliga country during the truckie blockade!."
Truckies have also reported to have found numerous footprints along the side of the Highway through the Pilliga which added to their concerns. Over the years, many people had witnessed Yowies in the dead of the night on the road side, one man and his friend found one eating fresh road kill as they drove passed.
*Then of course there is the story of Bongo ... (see image above) and check out this section for the story. You can also click on the link and listen to it yourself -
Hidden Alien Lab in Blue Mountains?
Story and photo courtesy of i09.com
The inter-webs are buzzing with reports that countless people in Australia are claiming aliens abducted them and took them to some kind of medical facility over the Blue Mountains.
George, a bank manager in Sydney, Australia, told a reporter:
"I had the window wide open and was lying in my bed next to it trying to get a cool breeze happening. I was drowsy but definitely not asleep. Then I began floating out my window and over Sydney. I wasn't nervous but felt a bit surprised, like what the hell was happening. It was as if I had been sedated, thinking back. I saw the city pass by under or at least felt as if it was and then thought I might have been going over some bush or mountains.
"I was on a platform and then on some kind of operating table in a chamber within a UFO, I think. I noticed odd ‘furniture' in the room: if you could call it that- unusual spheres and pyramids. There were beings over me. They appeared to be wearing white robes or togas of some sort. I could not see their faces or any bodily features. Nothing in this UFO chamber looked human. What looked somewhat like a dental or baking instrument was then inserted into my backside and pulled out and put away."
UFOlogist Michael Cohen says that he is confident that the people making these kinds of reports are telling the truth. He says many of them include similar details in their stories, and few of them have had any interest in UFOs before their abduction experience. They are just "regular people" according to him. It may not be clear what's causing the sudden interest in Australians on the part of aliens, but Cohen does have a few words of advice if you want to avoid having baking instruments put into your backside by aliens in togas. He writes:
'I make a point of driving past the homes of abductees that contact me. I have noticed other common factors that in no way can correspond to the psychology of the abductees. Usually abductees will live on wide open, boulevard type streets and the window they floated through will face this street. There are never any bars on their bedroom windows. A large percentage of abductees are single men who won't be missed for a few minutes of absence at 3am.'
This tells us a few things. The aliens doing the abducting are advanced: but they can't float people through walls. They like to make things easy for themselves. Many ufologists equate the ability to travel faster than the speed of light with the ability to do anything. This might not be the case.
More than anything else the aliens doing the abducting don't want any corroborative witnesses. They don't mind the abductees knowing what occurred but they want to keep their activities otherwise secret. They go to extraordinary lengths to this end.
It appears that cloaking technology is used to disguise any bodies floating through the sky and abductions are done in the dead of the night. it is also believed that the entire abduction process is completed within minutes.
Sydney UFO abduction accounts indicate that if you really don't want to be abducted invest in an air-conditioner or a fan. Avoid sleeping with an open-window if possible or install bars. Most abductions occur during Australia's hot summer.
Okay, Australians and tourists, you heard it here first: if you are in Australia in summer, please run the air conditioning as much as possible. Also, avoid proximity to cloaking technology and try not to be a single male at 3 AM. I think that's just plain good advice.
The Ghost of Glen Davis
Featured as part of Bravo Productions "Scariest Ghost Videos" the Australian part of this video featuring "Wildland" was shot in the remote mining town of Glen Davis, an old shale mining town located 70 kilometres north of Lithgow in the Capertee Valley.
Rock group Wildland visited there to shoot their video. When the scenes were viewed later, it was discovered that there was a figure of a man standing in the background of one of the shots amid the concrete ruins. The figure did not have a face and the head is disjointed from the body. The camera crew, director, and band swears that there was no one else on the scene. Some speculate that the man may be the spirit of a miner who was killed in an accident or perhaps he is the spirit of a priest who committed suicide near that location. For more information go to the Australian Ghost Hunters Society website -
Mount Nullo Camp
Story by Dane Millerd Photo by Paul Denham
Mount Nullo is in the middle of the Wollemi National Park between Widden and Rylstone.
It is the old trail used by female bushranger Jessie Hickman when she would flee the police or move cattle across the mountain during her heyday in the first part of last century.
As the picture shows, Local Legends Entertainment went on location across the track, negotiating the rugged terrain through Mount Nullo to Rylstone.
The picture also shows Auldy and The Tick tending to the fire on night one of the expedition.
An exclusive 4WD trail and not for the faint hearted, the trip across Mount Nullo shows many remnants of ghosts from yesteryear who sought refuge in the area from old huts to abandoned properties and roadways.
So if you are game, make sure you get a chance to drive the old track. It is a must for any outdoor adventurer or history buff.
Mount Nullo is halfway across the 145km track from Widden to Rylstone, be sure to take supplies and prepare yourself for an amazing Australian bush experience. There's lots to see and do on the trip and it really is a once in a lifetime opportunity.
Hot Pie with sauce
Story and photo by Dane Millerd Info courtesy of amazingaustralia.com.au
The Aussie pie with sauce is a great tradition that goes back eons. Whether it be eating it at the footy or late on a Saturday night after drinks at the pub we love it and we show no signs of slowing.
Below are some interesting stats -
* 260 million meat pies are eaten every year, August being the peak consumption. Queenslanders eat more pies per head than any other state.
* 124,000 Aussies die every year, August being the peak season for dying.
(Those top two stats together are worrying.)
* Australian boys born today can expect to live to almost 77.8 –, while girls will live about 82.8 years. Life expectancy has improved by six years for males and four years for females over the past 20 years, and at an average of 81.5 years, people who live in the ACT have the highest life expectancy in the nation.
So have a hot pie by all means but in moderation, please.
Wild Fires
Info courtesy of Skwirk Photo by Paul Denham
More than any other country in the world, Australia is frequently ravaged by wild fires. For several months, from July 2002 to February 2003, there were approximately 6000 bushfires recorded in the country.
Australia has a tumultuous relationship with wild fires with the first sparking around five million years ago when dry grassland began to dominate the landscape. Prior to this period, Australia was predominately composed of lakes, wetlands, rivers and rainforests, conditions far too wet to nurture wild fires.
Some 40,000 - 50,000 years ago, wild fires began to occur more regularly. The early Aboriginal peoples had an ingrained understanding of fire and valued its relationship to the land.
Bushfires often start when dry winds blow inland from central Australia. While the winds bring dry weather, they also provide ventilation for the flames. Trees such as eucalypts are especially prone to fire because their leaves have a highly-flammable oil. Dry leaves and bark are especially flammable.
Due to the size of the continent, and the great diversity of environmental conditions, there is no time of the year when the entire landmass is safe from the potential danger of bushfire. The fire season in different regions of Australia depends primarily on latitude. The most severe bushfires occur south of a parallel line between Adelaide and Sydney.
More Yowie sightings
Story LL Staffers
Packing boxes for a house move in Canberra in late 2009, Matt Jones was confronted by a stocky, hairy monster standing in the corner of the garage staring at him.
The creature was a juvenile covered in hair, with long arms that almost touched the ground.
"It was inquisitive about what I was doing," he said.
"It was definitely trying to communicate with me.
"At the time, I had no idea what the creature could be. A friend later told me it could be a bigfoot or yowie."
The Aussie monster is as mysterious as it is controversial, often seen but never photographed, according to many experts interviewed by Local Legends.
The yowie is most often described as a solitary, nocturnal creature with a frightful growl.
Apparently if you are chased, the best thing to do is jump into a waterhole, because they cannot wet their feet.
Still, would you want to take the chance?
Afterall, the Bunyip lives in the water ...
Don't believe in Chemtrails?
Don't believe in Chemtrails? Watch this video.
How did the Bungle Bungles get their name?
Story by Deefer Bloomfield Photo by Paul Denham
The Bungle Bungle Range is located in the Purnululu National Park in the Kimberley. The Bungle Bungles however were not 'discovered' by white man until 1983 instantaneously putting the site on the map as far as places to visit in Australia.
The maze of strange orange, brown and black striped domes are one of the nation's most fascinating yet eerie landforms and how it got its name is not clear. The Kija aboriginal people who lived in the region for over 20,000 called the area Purnululu which was the Kija word for sandstone.
The name Bungle Bungles however is technically incorrect, the actual name is Bungle Bungle but Bungles Bungles is accepted.
The area of the Bungle Bungle range is about 450 km2. The national park is 239,723 ha in size. A 79,602 ha conservation reserve acts as a buffer zone to protect the range. Flights and tours operate regularly.
Guess Who's Coming To Dinner?
Story by Leon Cuffitt Image by Steed Litten
Many might not know it, but there is a house in Lane Cove that is believed to be haunted by a poltergeist. It has been this way since the late 1950s.
The owner, one Mr. McDougall said - "A little later we were just sitting in here and suddenly the fire irons started swaying to and fro.
"My brother thought a draught might be causing it but the irons kept moving...
"Then he thought a loose floorboard might be causing it but no. No they weren't. The irons were moving by themselves which was very unsettling.
Mr. McDougall continued - "Another strange thing happened whenever my brother set the dining table for dinner. It happened so often and it was so strange that he would automatically set one extra place with cutlery! It was said the early owners of the 110-year-old house had lost a daughter down a well on the property and she kept returning.
"Suffice to say we dared not upset her."
Drop Bears
Story and photo by Millie Ford
Contrary to popular mythology there is no such thing as a Drop Bear. Still, it doesn't hurt to perpetuate the myth on unsuspecting tourists, even if it is just for a chuckle. If attacked by the notoriously aggressive Drop Bear, rule number one is stop, drop and roll.
Now because we live in such a dangerous place here in Oz, it only enhances a foreigners anxiety when we add arguably our most recognisable and most adorable creature to the menu of cranky blood suckers - the koala a.k.a as the Drop Bear.
When talking to tourists about Drop Bears remember there are some basic rules - Drop Bears are usually dark brown or black in colour, have razor sharp fangs to match their claws and can leap like chimps from tree to tree at tremendous speeds - yes the Drop Bear is the complete aerial predator.
Of course we're only joking ... there's no such thing as Drop Bears, really, honest.
Open Water
Info courtesy of Uncle Leo and www.listverse.com Photo by Dane Millerd
Tom and Eileen Lonergan were a married couple from Baton Rouge, Louisiana who had just recently completed a three year tour of duty with the Peace Corps.
They were stranded January 25th, 1998 while SCUBA diving with a group of divers off Australia's Great Barrier Reef and were never found.
The group's boat scuba company accidentally abandoned Tom and Eileen due to a faulty head count taken by the dive boat crew. It was a tragic mistake.
Upon leaving the diving area, the twenty-four other divers and five crew members failed to notice that the couple was not aboard. The couple was left to fend for themselves in shark-infested waters. Although their bodies were never recovered, they likely eventually died of dehydration, drowning, shark attack, or a combination thereof.
Alex Szperlak and his universe observatory
Story and photo by Dane Millerd
The amazing concrete structure you see before you was created by Polish migrant Alex Szperlak over a 15 year period from 1983-1998.
He called his work the “Universe Observatory.” There is also a chessboard which was also completed in 1998.
Szperlak’s interest in astronomy and his false imprisonment for four years over a murder he did not commit are the motivations behind the work. He considered himself the “Second Robinson Crusoe.”
His tragic death occurred when a gas explosion occurred at the site in 1998 and a high existence of fermenting Aloe Vera juice and Tequila extracted from Agave plants made matters only worse for emergency services.
The present owner of Alex’s old lease has made a considerable effort to maintain the site and keep Alex Szperlak’s memory alive.
Where there's no smokes, there's a fire engine and beer!
Story Dan Ledlimer Info courtesy of Australian Traveller and Lauren Camp Photo by Percy Warrul
In 2000, 43-year-old nomad Edward Furtak thought that a good way to give up smoking would be to drive his ancient converted fire engine into the desert and camp by himself for six months as you do. His decision to quit smoking nearly had fatal consequences.
“I needed to actually get out in the middle of nowhere like the outback where I just couldn’t have a smoke,” he said later in an interview.
While he claimed he “had a great time”, his parents certainly didn’t, reporting him missing after 90 days of no word from their son.
Emergency services began a search but it proved fruitless. The mystery of his disappearance from Sydney was finally solved after another three months went by, and he emerged from the desert in the small town of Forrest, 1150km east of Perth, to call his mum on her 78th birthday.
From all reports, the Quit stint in the desert did just the trick.
KIM-BEER-LYS NO DISAPPOINTMENT FOR TOURIST
In October 2002, 36-year-old German man Kim Hardt sat alone in his 4WD for three days after getting bogged at Lake Disappointment on the rugged Canning Stock Route.
He’d heard about the challenge the CSR presented to outback drivers on a German TV show, which must have been missing a few salient survival details because Hardt showed up by himself with hardly any water, no phone or GPS, but carrying ten litres of beer and a packet of bikkies.
Some fellow tourists discovered Hardt and were able to leave some more water while they trundled off to alert a rescue team. By the time the team returned, Hardt was drinking the salt water from Lake Disappointment. Apparently he’d thought it would take about three days to traverse the 1700km CSR, 900 sand dunes and all.
The Moolyewonk
Story by Daniel Dreml Info courtesy of cryptozoo-oscity Image from Google Earth
The Moolyewonk, is a giant water serpent from the Jurassic Period. It is our version of the Loch Ness monster according to a great many. Some of those claim that it is believed to be the ‘leviathan’ referred to in the Bible. Since the beginning of man in this nation, tales have been told of a mysterious creature seen swimming in the Hawkesbury River, and local legend tells of it being responsible for upturned boats and missing fishermen.
The monster is thought to be a plesiosaur, a long necked marine reptile with four flippers apparently rendered extinct over 65 million years ago.
While speaking to Local Legends in May 2008, author and controversial researcher Rex Gilroy retold tales of indigenous settlers of the 1880s and told stories of women and children being attacked by the ‘Moolyewonk’ or ‘Mirreeular’ meaning giant water serpent. Some call it the Mooney Mooney Monster while others believe it to be something far different.
"The legend next surfaced soon after WWII, when Douglas Bradburyn went fishing with a group of friends at the mouth of the Hawkesbury River when a creature rose six metres above the water. Startled, the men dropped their rods and rowed frantically towards the shore," said Gilroy.
"A similar creature was seen one August afternoon in 1979 by bushwalker Rosemary Turner a few kilometres west of the Hawkesbury River Bridge. Through her binoculars, Ms Turner clearly saw a pair of humps rise out of the water and flippers move below the surface."
Could it have been a big fish or a seal?
Not according to Gilroy.
There have been ‘slide marks’ found on the riverbank, by residents of Windsor and St Albans and there are additional tales involving a 25-30 foot creature emerging from the water.
In the past 22 years, the fossils of three plesiosaurs have been found in Australia, two in Queensland and one in South Australia.
“There is definitely more than one of them,” Mr Gillroy said.
“A reasonable population could be around and I think they are breeding offshore.”
Researchers have confirmed Aboriginal art found on sandstone cliffs in Woy Woy to be that of a plesiosaur. It is also alleged that there are cave drawings resembling a monster of this type at Muogamarra Sanctuary near Berowra.
Using the water as shelter, a plesiosaur would have been able to survive whatever killed the dinosaurs, especially with the Hawkesbury River as its home.
“The land surface had an ecological change, oceans didn’t. There is no reason they don’t exist and are moving between here and New Zealand,” Mr Gillroy said.
The Grampians Puma
Story by Daniel Dreml Info and image courtesy of mysteriousaustralia.com
Over the last two centuries a large number of people have reported seeing large cats in the Australian bush. These sightings have included animals like the Emmaville panther, the Lithgow panther and the Grampians puma.
Some, like many around the Grampians, believe that these animals are descendants of the puma brought to Australia by American goldminers during the Australian gold rush in the mid-nineteenth century. This may explain why these sightings are generally made along the Great Dividing Range in eastern Australia and in the south-west of 'Western Australia where most of the early gold mining activity took place.
Deakin University conducted a study into sightings in the Grampian Mountains in Victoria and concluded that puma (Felis concolor) were free ranging in the Grampians.
An environmental scientist, Prof John Henry, of Deakin University, Victoria, led a study of puma sightings in the Grampians 25 years ago. He gathered droppings and plaster-casts of footprints and sent them to a puma expert in Idaho. The American wrote back saying that the specimens were consistent in appearance with what one would expect to find from a puma, but that the evidence was inconclusive.
Prof Henry says the fact that the remains of a puma or leopard have never been found in the wild does not necessarily mean that they do not exist. He said: “In the US, very few people see pumas. They are highly secretive and solitary and we have huge areas of wilderness.” The presence of big cats, he says, is “plausible but not proven”.
There are also stories that USA Armed Service personnel brought pumas, as, mascots, to Victoria during the Second World War and released these pumas in the Grampian Ranges when they left. Some believe that these species still survive on mainland Australia.
At least four lions have been shot outside zoos and circuses in NSW over the past twenty or so years, three at Warragamba in two incidents and one at Broken Hill. Three lions also escaped from a circus in Coffs Harbour.
It should be remembered that lions are more visible than other large cats which tend to be more secretive and cryptic. In 1992 a tiger escaped from a circus at St Mary's and was subsequently recaptured.
Tales from the Pilliga #3
Story by Steed Litten Info and photo courtesy of Chris Holly.
A recent sighting of what appeared to be a yowie in the Pilliga has Coonabarabran and Baradine residents wondering if there is some truth to the primeval legend of the Pilliga yowie.
Although the image was seen only fleetingly a recent encounter adds mystery to a legend that has its roots in Aboriginal folklore and human evolution.
On Wednesday, August 26, 2009, two buses containing high school student members of the Regional Children’s Choir were returning to Baradine from a camp-fire evening at Odell’s Crossing.
Coincidentally, the youngsters had been listening to some hair-raising Pilliga tales related to them by local residents, Roy Matthews, Ronnie Magann and Pat Madden. The purpose of the excursion, organised by National Parks & Wildlife, was to give the Moorambilla choir group a feel for the forest. Composer and musician, Dan Walker, had been working with the kids preparing music and songs based on the yowie legend.
After enjoying the camp fire stories and billy tea and damper in the heart of the forest, the group set off on the return drive. As the first bus approached Odell’s Crossing, driver Daisy Matthews was startled to see something she believes resembled a strange human moving between the trees. She reported that she had a brief glimpse of a ‘wild looking’ hairy figure running towards the bus.
“It seemed to be confused and dazzled by the headlights,” commented Mrs. Matthews.
“We were travelling very slowly, but it all happened so quickly and I still wonder if I was seeing things!
“However, most of the kids said they had seen something, but there was such a lot of commotion and noise which really must have scared the creature away.”
The driver of the second bus, Cliff Matthews, said that he really could not make a comment other than there was definitely something or someone on the track. He says that a heavy thump against the side of his bus as he approached the creek did cause a brief unnerving moment and there was a good deal of excitement amongst his young passengers.
Do you have any stories from the Pilliga? Let us know.
The Fernvale Prophecy
Story and image by Birdsville Bob.
In 1927 at a property near Fernvale, in northern NSW, a “visitor” came and drew the locals "inexorably into a flirtation with an antipodean version of the Twilight Zone, believe in communion with nature."
Many at the site claimed to see a range of bizarre events from UFO's to giant birds with some of these animals standing as high as five-feet tall.
Strangely, similar events would be reported at Point Pleasant in West Virginia nearly 40 years later though many claim this to be the first sighting of its kind in Australia. The giant birds and bizarre events have been recorded all over the world since then.
If you have any more information about giant bird sightings or the Fernvale Prophecy please let us know.
The Elf of Mandurah Humpy
Story courtesy of Dan Ledlimer Info courtesy of www.theozfiles.com Image courtesy of Dane Millerd
In 1982 a 67 year old woman saw a picture of "ET", Steven Spielberg's cute alien creation. It made her think of an experience she had as a 15 year old girl, near the estuary at Mandurah, Western Australia. She supplied a report to the Perth UFO Research Group which stated:
"(In 1930 I was) sitting reading with my parents in a humpy, on a block in Mandurah, in Greary Rd, by the light of a hurricane lamp, with the door partly open. The time (was) about 8 pm as we went to bed early.
"A little pink creature walked in. (It was) about 24 inches in height (with) large ears, big bulbous eyes, covered with a film, small hands, large feet, slit of a mouth, no hair, and shiny as if wet or oily.
"We were terrified and my father went white and being a religious man said it was the work of the devil. "Picking up a prawning net, he picked it up in it and it made a noise like 'EE...EE' and my father put it outside.
"We never saw it again and went to bed feeling very scared. This was in 1930 and I never thought any more about it until I saw a picture of 'ET,' although only its eyes were the same. ... It did not have a round body, more straight down like a child's body. I cannot remember seeing any sex organs... (It's shape was) like an elf."
The legend of the Elf of Mandurah Humpy was born that night. No one can say for certain what it wanted or if it will show up again.
If you know more about this legend please contact us.
Festival of the Fleeces
Story and photo by Millie Ford
Every June Merriwa celebrates the Festival of the Fleeces to commemorate their involvement within the Australian Wool Industry.
Events are held on the Saturday and they range from the Street Parade, Bush Poetry, Yard Dog Trials, Whip Cracking, the Billy Cart Derby, exhibitions and much more.
The event started in 1990 and visitors come from all over the state to watch shearers at work, watch the workings of the sheep dogs and their trainers demand respect from the flocks of sheep.
For some unknown reason Aussies have long given Kiwi's a hard time about their affinity with the four-legged woolly mammal but the statistics below paint a far different picture and possibly illustrate a promoted misnomer that has survived and grown throughout history.
We produce nearly twice as much wool as our Tasman cousins. We rank number one with 25% of global woolclip (475 million kg greasy, 2004/2005 while New Zealand comes in third on 11% - statistics sure to make many Aussies sheepish.
So that means no more jokes about our nearest neighbours for sheep statistics show that more than half of Australia is being grazed by 137 million sheep on 53,000 sheep farms providing 70% of the world's wool for clothing.
If that contradiction isn't enough, we have rubbed insult into injury with the Kiwi's by trying to make them apart of our nation.
According to Amazingaustralia.com, a recent survery established that roughly 41% of a thousand interviewed Kiwis thought it was a good idea for New Zealand to become Australia's seventh state, 58% did not believe the discussion was worth having, and 1% were not sure.
Around the year 1900 New Zealand chose not to join the Australian Commonwealth, the Australian constitution provides for New Zealand to join but the country decided to remain separate. Who can blame them?
Seems like the Kiwi's still have a bee in the bonnet about being called sheep-shaggers. But seriously, is being called a sheep-shagger any worse then being called kanga-rooted?
I think not.
So what are you waiting for?
Story by Ed DiMallren Info courtesy of amazingaustralia.com Image by Snoopy Mars
There are numerous ways that one can meet a gritty end and in Australia, depending on where you are, the chances greatly increase. While for the most part, it is no more dangerous than anywhere else, there are a few things you should be mindful of before venturing to the Great Southern Land.
Below are some unconfirmed statistics sent to amazingaustralia.com
* Three Aussies die each year testing if a 9v battery works on their tongue.
* 58 Aussies are injured each year by using sharp knives instead of screwdrivers.
* 31 Aussies have died since 1996 by watering their Christmas tree while the fairy lights were plugged in.
* Eight Aussies had serious burns in 2000 trying on a new jumper with a lit cigarette in their mouth.
* A massive 543 Aussies were admitted to Emergency in the last two years after opening bottles of beer with their teeth.
* In 2000 eight Aussies cracked their skull whilst throwing up into the toilet.
* 31 per cent of Aussie men and 26 per cent of Aussie women will never marry.
* 33 percent of Aussie marriages in 2000/02 could be expected to end in divorce, compared with 28 per cent of marriages in 1985/8.
* The average bra size in Australia has increased from a modest 12B only six years ago to a curvy 14C. Tasmania has outstripped the national average, boasting an average bra size of 16C.
* Only about three people die from snake bites annually in Australia out of about 5000 people who were bitten each year. Not much when you consider we have seven of the top ten mostly deadly snakes in the world.
* Aussies spot between 1000 and 1500 UFOs per year and apparently more Aussies believe in aliens then God.
We hope now you know that our great sunburnt country isn't all just big crocodiles, enormous great white sharks and a finger-web that can bite you on the funnel ... or is that a funnel-web that can bite you on the finger? It doesn't matter.
Mosquitoes kill more people each year than all combined and did I mention the beautiful sunshine?
Catching a plane has never seemed so good.
So what are you waiting for?
Come see Terror Australis ... the most undiscovered place on Earth.
Tales from the Pilliga #2
Story and photo by Millie Ford
There have been many tales documented about the Pilliga, particularly on this site. The area has held a strange fascination for many over the years from hunters and campers to truckies and tourists. It is an eerie tract of land. I think one of the most disturbing cases that I have been told involved the case of Desmond Clark. Desmond Clark was a three-year-old boy that went missing in the Pilliga Scrub. They had a 750-man search party trying to find Desmond and they couldn't find him anywhere. So the superintendent found Tracker Riley and got the tracker to come out to this property. But when he got to the property, the old cocky who owned the property turned around and said to Tracker Riley he didn't want any blacks on his property and wouldn't allow him to participate in the search for his three-year-old grandson. So Riley had no choice. He had to go back to Dubbo. Tracker Riley hounded the superintendent to let him go out there because he believed that he knew which direction the boy was going in. Because it was coming on nightfall and there was a full moon that night, the child would be walking towards the light. But of course, nobody bothered to search in that particular direction and Desmond Clark was never found. About 12 months later, Tracker Riley went back out to the Pilliga and he decided to follow through on his theory about the young boy following the moon. Within 12 hours, he found the boy's remains in a chalk pit. But the most startling point of it all was that his remains were only 500 metres from the actual homestead and the search party of 750 people had been looking in the wrong direction. That, for him, was very disturbing. Although he never complained to anybody or said anything, many said that there was a change in his behaviour and that indeed he was very upset. He believed wholeheartedly that if he was allowed on that property he would've been able to save that boy's life. So I suppose that just shows you how powerful racism can be and the serious implications it can have. It also tells us how unforgiving the Pilliga can be. It takes no prisoners and makes no exceptions.
Coming Soon
Coming soon to the Local Legends website we have part three of the Emmaville Panther, another yarn from Yabby Mick, more stories of Shadow People, more pix from She Won't Find Me Here and that's just for starters.
In weeks ahead we interview Bourbon Dave about his priceless bourbon collection, tell you the chilling story of the Elf from Mandurah Humpy, accounts from the Dunbar and give you more tales from the Pilliga.
As always we look forward to receiving more of your stories for it is you that make this what it is - Local Legends.
So stay tuned for more at www.local-legends.net
Wind of Change
Story and image by Dane Millerd
By most Aboriginal definitions from The Bad of the Kimberley, to the Dharug in the Blue Mountains, Wunda was an Aboriginal term used to describe a spirit with white skin. In most cases it was a good spirit however in others it was cunning and evil. Who could have known what the future held in 1788 for these people but for ‘He Who Built All Things’ – Baia-me, who is universally acknowledged as a God like spirit among Indigenous native tribes.
When the Europeans arrived in Australia, Indigenous tribes had no idea that these reincarnated versions of Wunda could be so evil. As the Europeans destroyed forests and wildlife, so did they destroy Aboriginal homes, hunting grounds and totems. An aboriginal totem was sacred and so the Indigenous man lashed out at the perceived lack of respect, these new Wunda people had shown for him and for the land. As was written for eons by Stone Age men everywhere from Binoomea to Ballina that one only had to kill or take what he needed, not out of vanity and not out of disrespect for the role these elements played in the equilibrium of life. A lifeless emu was not good unless he could be eaten, otherwise his life and death were a waste.
Yet this new Wunda breed continued to maim and conquer anthill after anthill, and soon the numbers of Stone Age men would dwindle. For many Indigenous people, the pain echoes through to present day as many tribes have died out and been lost to the pages of history.
In 1997 a survey result showed only six people who still actively spoke the Gomeroi language. At their peak in the 1700’s, the Gomeroi/ Kamilaroi had over 160 able bodied fighting men alone and were the second largest tribe behin the Wiradjuri of the south-west of the state. The new Wunda breed would get them too.
Yet not all tales of Wunda are bad.
George ‘The Barber’ Clarke spent time with the natives in the early 1800’s and Barralier was known to have enlisted the help of Gundangurra tribesmen when crossing the Burrogorang. Charles Sturt and John Eyre were also known to be friendly and interactive with the Aborigines and owed much of their success to the unhindered run through the south-central regions of Australia to the rightful owners of the land.
Perhaps the strangest parallel to all this though is the fact many other cultures also have their own versions of this enigmatic pale skinned spirit. The Aztecs and Incas both had spiritual symbols of Wunda which often meant “white skinned” and “evil spirit.” They, like their Aboriginal ancestors would endure similar joy, pain and struggles.
One thing we can be sure of is that had the Indigenous man of Australia not been so superstitious the arrival and settlement of the Wunda breed in 1788 would not have been so seamless.
The Berrima Axeman
Story and drawing by Dane Millerd
Berrima is situated on the southern highlands of New South Wales in eastern Australia, about an hour and a half drive from Sydney. The historic village of Berrima has a population of only 284 and is a welcome sight for the travellers seeking to relax over a cup of tea before resuming their journey. Picturesque Berrima is steeped in history and Australia's oldest hotel, The Surveyor General. It is also the home to Australia's worst serial killer John Lynch. Sir James Dowling at Lynch's trial had no hesitation in sentencing Lynch to death by hanging for the gruesome murder of nine people during a rampage that ran from 1840 to 1841. Before passing sentence Justice Dowling had said, "John Lynch, the trade in blood which has so long marked your career is at last terminated, not by any sense of remorse, or the sating of any appetite for slaughter on your part, but by the energy of a few zealous spirits, roused into activity by the frightful picture of atrocity which the last tragic passage of your worthless life exhibits. "It is now credibly believed, if not actually ascertained, that no less than eight other individuals have fallen by your hands. How many more have been violently ushered into the next world remains undiscovered, save it in the dark pages of your memory. "By your own confession it is admitted that as late as 1835 justice was invoked on your head for a wilful murder committed in this immediate neighbourhood. Your unlucky escape on that occasion has, it would seem, whetted your tigrine relish for human gore but at length you have fallen into toils from which you cannot escape." John Lynch stood unmoved in the dock, a smirk of defiant indifference on his face as the judge announced, "You are sentenced to be hanged by the neck until you are dead." John Lynch was hanged at Berrima Gaol on April 22, 1842. With the gruesome tally of eight victims, John Lynch is Australia's most prolific individual serial killer.
Giant Razorback Shot at Pilbara Station
Story by Local Legends Staff Photographer Unknown
This giant feral pig was shot on a Pilbara cattle station after it was spotted eating a dead cow. The picture had been circulating on the internet for years amid claims the boar was killed at various locations across Australia and that the picture was a hoax.
It is still written off as a hoax by many, including WA's Department of Environment and Conservation, and sparked much debate when published on website PerthNow.
But The Sunday Times has confirmed that the pig was shot on a Pilbara cattle station near Newman, 1200km northeast of Perth.
Sources close to the family of the man in the photo have confirmed he is Pilbara pastoralist John Anick and the picture was taken on his property three years ago.
The family refused to talk about the giant boar, for fear that illegal pig hunters would flock to the area.
The source said the 220kg beast was eating a cow when it was first seen by workers mustering cattle in a helicopter. Mr Anick saw it again on a trip to check windmills on the property and shot it.
``I can vouch 100 per cent, I don't even have to say 90 per cent, that it (the photo) was taken in the Pilbara and it is who I said it is,'' the source said.
There are estimated to be more than 23million feral pigs roaming the nation, predominantly in New South Wales, Queensland and the Northern Territory.
When Skylab met the Nullabor
In 1979 the NASA Space Station "Skylab" fell from space and crashed near Australia's Longest Straight of Road on the Nullabor plain. Parts of the Space Station are now located at Balladonia Road House which has a population of approximately 9 people and that depends if they are coming or going.
The local Shire Council issued NASA with a littering fine for the space junk. The then US President Jimmy Carter even phoned the roadhouse to apologise.
We're still trying to find out if the fine was paid? Imagine the interest!
The Ribbon Gang Bushrangers PART 1
Story by Barry Cubbitt - bushrangers.abercrombiecaves.com Photo by Paul Denham
PART 1 Back in 1830, the Ribbon Gang Bushrangers used Abercrombie Caves as a safe place to hide. Ralph Entwistle was a young Englishman from Bolton who had been sentenced to life transportation to Australia for stealing clothes. On arriving at Botany Bay on board "John -1" he was assigned as a convict servant to landowner John Liscombe, near Bathurst. In November 1829, Entwistle and another convict were entrusted with the task of transporting a bullock dray full of wool to the Sydney Markets. They had to return with the proceeds together with some supplies. On their return, they paused for a while beside the cool waters of the Macquarie River at Bathurst and decided to strip off and go for a swim. Unfortunately, they had chosen the wrong time and place to cool off! The Governor, Ralph Darling, was in the area to inspect the new settlement of Bathurst and whilst the two convicts were enjoying their "skinny-dip" the Governor and a party of soldiers were about to cross the river. Hoping not to be spotted, the two convicts hid amongst the reeds. After the soldiers had crossed, Entwistle and his mate came out from behind the reeds and began to get dressed. They had not noticed that there were two groups of soldiers and so were immediately arrested by the leader of the second group, who just happened to be the Bathurst Magistrate. The charge was: "..causing an affront to the Governor and his party .." The sentence was a public flogging of 50 lashes of the whip! This incident is a good illustration of the harshness of the times, when convicts were handed out severe punishment for relatively minor offences. This action, understandably, contributed to Entwistle becoming a very bitter man. This together with similar incidents let to the first major rebellion of convicts west of the Blue Mountains. About nine months after the flogging, Entwistle induced a number of other convicts to take up arms and join him in the bush. On September 23rd 1830, nine men, led by Entwistle escaped from their masters property and roamed the country side in the Fitzgeralds valley area, just south west of Bathurst. At each property that the "banditti" visited, they stole food, horses, guns and ammunition. One newspaper account mentioned that after only a short time the gang had stolen so much booty that it was getting too heavy to carry and had to be dumped. The gang also "persuaded" other convicts to also escape and join the gang. In only two weeks the rebellion had grown. There were about 50 in the gang! (Although at least one Sydney newspaper was reporting a full scale rebellion of more than 500 escapees marauding around the bush!)
* To be continued ...
PHOTO: The picture above is of Grove Falls - a common and popular hideout for the Ribbon Gang.
The Lady of the Road
Story and image by Daniel Dreml
For years there have been tales of roadside apparitions and highway phantoms. They are told and retold by everyone from grey nomads to tough truckies. The Breezer Bolter, the Lemon Tree Passage Ghost and the Londonderry Wraith are just some that come to mind that we have covered recently and they all rattle to the very core.
Yet many believe nothing compares to the Lady of the Road, a slain poltergeist prostitute that stalks the Sturt Highway in the Riverina of NSW.
As legend has it the Lady of the Road was picked up one evening by a truckie who had ill-intent and a ghastly deed in mind for her. When he had finally finished with her decaying, listless body he left her to die somewhere near Gumly Gumly.
In time she would come to reappear as a phantom on the roadside tempting unsuspecting drivers into picking her up yet all the while secretly planning and plotting her revenge against all truckies.
Yes, the Lady of the Road is one to look out for.
The Ribbon Gang Bushrangers PART 2
Story by Barry Cubbitt - bushrangers.abercrombiecaves.com Photo by Paul Denham
Continued from PART 1
One early newspaper report written by a local citizen of Bathurst, Mr. George Suttor, mentioned that the leader of the gang was wearing "a profusion of white streamers in his hat" and that "some call them the ribbon boys". Early one morning the entire gang of fifty men turned up at the magistrates property (which is near the modern day village of Wimbledon), seeking revenge for the way that they had been treated as convicts. As the Magistrate was not on the property, the gang stormed up to the overseer's hut and demanded that all the convicts on the Magistrates property had to join the rebellion. The overseer was then shot and killed because he refused to allow any of his men to join. Under threat of death, the convicts who belonged to the Magistrate also joined the gang, swelling the membership to about 130! Gang Leaders find the Caves Since many of those in the gang did not really want to be a part of the rebellion, from this point the gang began to fall apart. Entwistle and about 14 followers now split from the masses and called in at the Mulgunnia property (near Trunkey Creek) and stumbled on Grove Creek. They are believed to have followed the creek for a while and then quite by chance discovered the Abercrombie Archway. It is thought that the gang used Stable Arch for their horses.
Public meeting called in Bathurst Meanwhile, back at Bathurst, a public meeting had been called at the Bathurst Courthouse to try and get some volunteers to help the six troopers who were stationed in the town. Twelve citizens came forward. The troopers also called for military re-enforcements.
The 39th Regiment were marched out from Sydney and the 48th Mounted Police were sent up from Goulburn.
After resting at the caves for a while, Entwistle and his men continued to follow Grove Creek until they got to the top of Grove Creek Falls. While they were camped there, looking for a way down, the Troopers and volunteers caught up with them. A battle took place at the top of the falls resulting in injuries on both sides and the gang loosing their horses.
The rebels retreated on foot, back to the caves, possibly hiding in Bushrangers Cave. The attackers followed and on reaching the caves decided to search through the passages and flush out the criminals. It is thought that one of the Troopers who searched Bushrangers Cave, dropped a set of convict leg irons. Sixty-four years later, the first caretaker of the caves, Sam Grosvenor, discovered a set of leg-irons buried in the mud floor of Bushrangers Cave. These leg-irons are still on display at Abercrombie Caves.
Having escaped from the caves, the fugitives headed for the hills and at a spot now known as Bushrangers Hill, about 3 kilometres to the West of the caves, they encountered a group of soldiers. Although greatly outnumbered, the gang put up quite a fight, but were finally surrounded and arrested.
Tried and Hanged Entwistle and his men were escorted back to Bathurst, where they were charged with murder, bushranging and horse-thieving. The trial was held by Special Commission led by Chief Justice Francis Forbes. Of course, in those days, all of those offences carried the death penalty. On November 2nd 1830, ten members of the Ribbon Boys, which included Entwistle were hanged in Bathurst for their crimes. Another two had died of wounds before reaching Bathurst and a further three had even managed to escape capture. This was the first and largest public hanging in Bathurst. The site of the hanging is now marked by a lane in Bathurst known as "Ribbon Gang Lane"
The Lemon Tree Passage Ghost
Story by LL Staffers
Port Stephens is a vibrant coastal community north of Newcastle, it is also a retreat for many particularly in the hotter summer months. Recently, all that has changed. There is a yarn that some young people have been reaching speeds of up to 190km/h along Lemon Tree Passage Rd. The erratic driving is reportedly due to an local legend that says the ghost of a 20-year-old male motorcycle rider who was killed in a crash by a speeding car three years ago in 2007. The rider will appear and chase a dangerous driver along the stretch of road - Lemon Tree Passage Rd. Numerous YouTube clips show an eerie bright light suddenly emerging in the vehicles' rear windscreen. "It's alleged that if you drive at speed in a manner dangerous, a bright white light comes in behind you and that's what they are calling the Lemon Tree Passage ghost,'' a police spokeswoman said. "There have been several phone calls that people are going out there and while attempting to get footage for YouTube these cars are travelling at excessive speed.'' "We want speeding drivers to know that the only bright light they'll be seeing in their rear windows will be the red and blue lights of a police car if they continue."
Leichhardt Lost
Story by LL Staffers Photo by Daniel Dreml
Ludwig Leichhardt, a Prussian explorer, adventurer and scientist, is perhaps most renowned for his trek in 1844/5 from the Darling Downs to Port Essington, an early settlement in the far north of the Northern Territory. It is no mean feat and even today is an effort. Leichhardt ascended the Burdekin Valley, crossed the Great Dividing Range, and found the Mitchell and Lynd Rivers. After following the length of the Mitchell, Leichhardt and the exhausted party finally arrived at Port Essington, in December, 1845. He made the return journey by boat. A year later, Leichhardt was forced by heatstroke to turn back from an attempt to traverse Australia from east to west, but shortly afterwards he again set out on an expedition to Perth. Upon setting out on this expedition, Leichhardt has never been seen since. His disappearance has remained a subject of much discussion, intrigue and mystery.
The Blackout
Story courtesy of Adam Phillips at www.bitey.com Image by Dane Millerd
Narromine, NSW Australia 1983
One night in summer when I was 12 years old, our cousins came to stay at our home. The adults went out for the evening leaving me in charge of the other four kids. There were 5 of us: our two cousins, my sister and me, then my brother (nicknamed Mog) was the youngest at about 7 years of age.
We mostly watched telly and played monopoly as the night passed and later, a storm rolled in. It was no particularly violent storm, but the youngest two were frightened by the thunder, wind and the sound of the house groaning. A little frightened myself, I went through the house turning on every light in every room. The entire time, I was picturing something black following and watching me, hovering just above and behind me as I walked from room to room. With my neck hairs bristling, I ran back the others in the warmly lit living room and as I sat on the floor the power went off. At that very moment, there was a bright flash of lightning by which we all saw each other, wide-eyed and pale-faced. It was a scene from a nightmare, and one of our cousins let out a soft high-pitched cry.
More lightning flashed and thunder cracked louder and louder. Occasionally the room was lit as if the morning sun streamed in, and we all saw each other in our fear. A real fear it was. Not just a childish fear of the storm and the dark, but the awful feeling I had earlier was on us all. We sat talking softly for a long time. The storm eventually calmed and the wind died down, but the house stayed dark.
Although there was still some lightning and distant rumbling, Mog decided that the break in the storm was the perfect opportunity to go to the toilet. None of us would go with him. He was terrified but bravely left the room alone. Within a few minutes we heard the toilet flush and seconds later, his bare feet slapping quickly across the kitchen floor and into the living room. He sat quietly on the carpet with us and I could hear him breathing heavily.
Another hour or so passed and the living room was suddenly lit from outside by the headlights of the family car arriving home. The grownups opened the door and came down the hall and into the kitchen where dad opened a cupboard and took matches and some candles. Soon the house was lit with dim, flickering light that threw dancing shadows up the walls and across the ceilings.
Our cousins left with their parents, my sister went to her own room, and my brother and I went to our room. As we lay in our beds falling asleep, he told me that on his way back from the toilet, there was a flash of lightning that lit up the hallway.
He described to me in great detail what he saw in that flash. The body of a little boy. Dead and propped in a sitting position against the wall.
It was gone when another flash lit up the hall.
Man On Fire
Story courtesy of www.quazen.com writer Louie Jerome, additional reporting by Ed Di Mallren Image reconstruction by Ed Di Mallren
For thousands of years man has been able to use fire and the superstitions about the magic powers of fire were a major part of early religion. Much of this survives even in our modern age in the form of superstition.
There are many old superstitions about fire and one that is still very common is that you must not throw bread onto a fire because if you do, you will be feeding the Devil. It is also considered unlucky to hang a mirror over a fireplace.
Of course, there is no scientific explanation for any of these superstitions but the beliefs are virtually impossible to break, because they have been handed down through the generations. A young woman may even see the initials of the man she will marry in the flames if she sits by the hearth and stares for long enough, or so the story goes.
In New Guinea the figure of an old woman was carved from stone and stood beside the fire. Her job was to prevent it from going out.
Here in Australia, less is known or reported about this mesmeric entity although some have claimed to see a man on fire within flames at various bush fires and infernos across the nation. Such visions can also be seen as a sign of the Devil and there are also tails of spontaneous combustion.
Perhaps the scariest tale of all is an earlier yarn given to us by Ando when he described the tale of the Pilliga Half Man who was allegedly burnt to a cinder in a tractor fire in the bush. Apparently, he still appears at the old house, much to the chagrin of anyone nearby.
The Guyra Ghost
Story by Dane Millerd Photo courtesy of Dorothy Lockyer and the Guyra Historical Society
Guyra, at the top of Northern Tablelands, lays claim to a number of strange and quirky facts. It has the highest placed caravan park in Australia, it is renowned for its spud farming and it was the site of a meteor shower at the end of the 20th century. Yet all of these things pale in comparison to the strange events that occurred nearly ninety years ago to one young girl named Minnie Bowen. It is a story that scares many to the core even to this very day. This is the story of a ghost or labelled by some a poltergeist, which stalked and systematically harassed the Bowen family in 1921 at their home on the outskirts of the small township. The attacks began around April of that year with clutter, screeching, banging and clanging of their old weatherboard home and it showed no signs of subsiding as time progressed. Everyone became aware of the haunting and just about every windowpane in the humble abode was destroyed. It didn’t take long for many to establish that the attacks seemed to be focused on 12 year-old Minnie Bowen as river rocks smashed through her bedroom window and showed no sign of abating. Many locals were on edge and inadvertently had gotten in harms way of the ghost. It was a frightening chapter in Guyra’s local history according to Dorothy Lockyer of the Guyra Historical Society. “Oh yes, it certainly scared a number of locals,” said Lockyer. “Even to this day it is a source of either embarrassment or fright for many in the area. “As you can appreciate there are families still in the area with deep links to those times whether it be through their ancestry or otherwise.” For former local Felicity Reeves, it is a legend that has only enhanced its reputation with age. “It is an infamous tale not just in the Tablelands but throughout the country,” she said. “It has divided the town that’s for sure.” Everyone from locals, to police to Sydney detectives attempted to bring the haunting to a close and despite efforts to protect Minnie and her family – even moving her to a relatives home in Glen Innes, there was no sign that the haunting would stop. At its peak but in Guyra, a cordon of 80 volunteers guarded the house but even that did not slow or stop the ghost from getting to Minnie. Some started to think she may have been possessed! Uralla student Ben Davey arrived at the home despite many questioning the validity of spiritualism and theosophy. Davey visited the Bowen family and did a thorough examination of their lives. Davey soon learned that Mrs Bowen had a late daughter named May and he believed that May was trying to relay a message to Minnie. Davey was right. May however was trying to talk to her mother through Minnie and her message was a simple one - ‘Tell mother I am perfectly happy where I am, and that your prayers when I was sick brought me where I am, and made me happy. Tell mother not to worry, I’ll watch and guard over you all.’ Eerie stuff and May had a strange way of showing her happiness. With everyone still on knifes edge; this development could not have come at a better time for the Bowen family. Not long after the haunting stopped and Minnie (who would later become Mrs Inks) went on to live to ripe old age of 88 years old. She never spoke much about her childhood terror after that and who could blame her?
Tales from the Pilliga #1
Story courtesy of Adam Phillips Photo courtesy of North West Magazine
One story I heard many years ago was that of a truck driver who stopped for a couple of hours sleep on the roadside, right in the middle of the Pilliga. During the night, he was woken by a terrific banging and screeching of twisted metal. His truck was rocking violently and terrified, he cowered in the cabin without a wink of sleep until dawn. When he finally emerged in daylight, he was struck with the sight of the trailer tarpaulin shredded and strewn for a hundred metres up the road. The metal ribs of the trailer cage were twisted and bent beyond repair. On a late night-early morning Australian radio programme called ‘Overnights‘ (2am – 6am), they held a few special nights dedicated to stories from the Pilliga region. Listeners could call the station and tell their Pilliga stories on the air. On that night, the radio station had two of their people in the Pilliga Scrub reporting live by satellite phone. At one point, the connection dropped and the signal wasn’t restored for some time. When it finally returned, the reporters were OK and the cut signal was unexplained.
During the programme, one caller who identified himself as “Bongo” told a harrowing story of the night he endured in the Pilliga way back in 1978. The ordeal he endured that night affected him in such a terrible way that, to this day, he remains in psychiatric care.
The recording of Bongo’s call is freely available from the radio station’s website, so I’ve put it on the Flash timeline with a play button. Try this link by cutting and pasting it in your browser -
Or google Pilliga Princess - it should be the top link. You can also go to www.bitey.com for the link if that does not work. You absolutely must NOT listen to this unless it’s late and night and you have turned off your lights. Good luck!
Notes: From hankstruckpictures.com (trucker’s forum) on www.bitey.com “On a 120 km stretch of the Newell Hwy between Coonabarabran and Narrabri is the Pilliga State Forest… It’s a beautiful drive during the day but at night, some of the toughest men fear to travel along this stretch of highway unless they know they wouldn’t have to stop, even down to hearing about drivers blowing out a tyre and driving it flat until they reach the other side.”
George Strong
Story by Dane Millerd Photo by Clare Johnson
The Anaiwan people, like all Aboriginal tribes, are very proud people. There are many names used to refer to the Anaiwan that include Anaywan, Anewan, Nowan, Enni-won, Yenniwon, Ee-na-won, En-nee-win, Eneewin, Inuwan Inuwon, Neeinuwon and Enuin. Their country covers Armidale, Ben Lomond, Bendemeer, Guyra, Moombi Range, Tingha, and Uralla. According to Jim Belshaw, a strategic consultant and author on the New England History website, there is much evidence and research that documents the Anaiwan as the original inhabitants and acknowledges the other groups as being associated with and having extensive interaction with the land on which Armidale and Tingha among others was settled. “Tribal boundaries change with the physical landscape, hence Anaiwan is on the Tablelands, and Dhunghutti is on the eastern side of the Pt. Lookout escarpment down to the coast at Kempsey north of the Macleay River. Gumbaingerri is a coastal tribe whose lands come inland south of Grafton and east around Guyra and Ebor. The Kamilaroi or Gamillaraay are a plains group west of the Gwydir River and the Great Divide. The Kamilaroi were the second biggest tribe in New South Wales behind the Wiradjuri of the south-western and central-western areas of the state,” says Belshaw. “Uralla, Bundarra and places such as Hillgrove, Wollomombi, Rockvale, Tilbuster, Black Mountain, Dumaresq, Tingha, Inverell and all places within that boundary are Anaiwan country. “Like all Aboriginal tribes, the peoples looked after the land and did not claim exclusive ownership by building fences or other barriers. They were custodians. Their responsibility and boundaries changed with the physical landscape. As well as the land, the custodians were responsible for such things as the animals, waterways, flora, ceremonial grounds, food supplies, plants and vegetation which contained medicinal qualities.” George Strong (pictured) is widely considered by many to be the last full-blood of the Anaiwan tribe; a man of the Anaiwan people (Yugga danya Ngawanya.) According to Darrell Barnes, a local researcher from Inverell and former councillor, it is also believed, particularly if one studies the photo closely, that Strong was an Aboriginal man of influence. “He was a man respected by his fellow tribes people. This is more noticeable when one observes his dress and the quality of his stockman riding boots. Strong interacted with white people in such a manner that he was also able to help his own brothers and sisters.” Yet while Strong may be the last of his tribe, the Anaiwan culture is still very much a part of today’s life in the Northern Tablelands not just through the populace of indigenous people that still reside in the area today but even in our institutions. At the University of New England graduation ceremonies, the Vice-Chancellor acknowledges firstly the Anaiwan then the names of neighbouring tribes; the Dhunghutti to the south-east, the Gumbaingerri to the north-east, and the Kamilaroi to the west. It is a ritual that has been going on for years that will hopefully never abate.
Jessie film attracting interest
Do you want to be involved with a new film on Elizabeth Jessie Hickman? We are looking for everyone from sponsors to film crew to help create a definitive feature on Australia's lady bushranger. "We want horse people, costume people, locations and any party that would like to help," said co-producer Dane Millerd. "We are also following some lines of inquiry and this has been tremendous moving forward. "So far we have some outstanding people involved some with extensive film experience having worked on Peter Pan, Don's Party, Caddie, Ghost Ship, Scooby-Doo and Endplay," said Millerd. "The local communities have also been very helpful and we hope more people want to become involved." With further announcements on the film imminent this might be a rare opportunity to get involved in a unique Australian project.
* For more information on Jessie, go to our TV section or check the clip on the home page of our website.
The truth is out there
Story and Photo by The Lizard King
There are approximately 1500 UFO sightings in Australia each year and many experts believe that is just the tip of the iceberg. The Northern Territory remains the ‘hot spot’ for UFO sightings in this country and has even attracted the attention of superstars such as Robbie Williams yet it is not the only place where this phenomenon occurs. Mother-of-two Anne Hamnett witnessed a bizarre incident at her isolated property near Gloucester recently. “They stayed in the area for about 30 minutes before disappearing,” said Ms Hamnett. "I've never believed UFO stuff before but I haven't ever seen anything like this," she said. "They were orange-red in colour and perfectly in line with each other - I just can't explain it." Anne Hamnett is not alone. Other sightings have occurred with regular frequency at Barkers Lodge Road in the Blue Mountains, Wycliffe Well in the Top End and at a Melbourne suburban school over 20 years ago. A recent poll by a top rating daily newspaper found that 67% of all respondents believed aliens were among us, verification that sceptics are now well and truly in the minority. In the words of famous X-Files trawler Fox Mulder – the truth is most definitely out there!
Jock-odile Undie
Story by LL Staffers Photo re-construction by Dane Millerd
It's not every day we hear tales of such bravery down south. Up north in the Top End, they happen nearly every week. Though many would proclaim they are offset by acts of silliness. This next story though is not one of those but rather an act of unusual gallantry. In November 2007, a man named Jim Howard earned the name ‘Jock-odile Undie’ after successfully catching a 1.5 metre saltie at Casuarina Beach that he subsequently bound together with his jocks. “They are my lucky jocks,” Howard would later proclaim. “I was concerned the croc would go after families and so I went commando and did what I had to do. “Once I wash them I might wear them to the casino!” Suffice to say Jimmy still wears his trusty jocks and life has never been better.
Jessie to ride onto big screen
Local Legends Entertainment have acquired film rights to bring the story of Elizabeth Jessie Hickman, the lady bushranger, to the big screen. “When we found out Jessie Hickman, the lady bushranger had a living granddaughter we decided to contact her,” said Dane. “We had done some preliminary research and found it to be an intriguing story. “So when we met Di Moore we all hit it off and decided to get the ball rolling to make it into a film.” The movie is based on the story as retold by Di Moore. “It was the logical step for us all to get this story told correctly and respectfully,” said Dane. “We are all motivated by telling the truth and giving Jessie a proper tombstone and burial site as opposed to the unmarked grave she now resides in down in Newcastle. “Once you read her story you realise she deserves much, much more than that.” Jessie's tale is a remarkable one. Given up at eight to the circus before she went onto become a champion horse rider and sharp shooter. “Yet she was unlucky in life and with men and inevitably it drove her into bushranging,” said Dane. “Her life has been the subject of much debate but most people have been off the mark as they have not spent the time uncovering the whole story. “As Voltaire once said - to the living we owe respect but to the dead we owe only the truth.” The film is still in pre-production as Dane and Local Legends Entertainment scale the countryside for potential investors, locations and people with plenty of horses and riders. “It is a perfect fit for people in the equine industry as the Hunter, Central West and Blue Mountains are the premier horse regions of Australia and of course those with an interest in Australian history and culture would appreciate this story too. “We welcome all inquiries.” For more information or to get involved contact Dane Millerd at media@local-legends.net
Frederick Ward - Thunderbolt
Story by Dane Millerd Photo courtesy of Greg Hamilton
“For nearly a century and a half, Australians have been sitting on a story far bigger than Ned Kelly – without even knowing it. Their minders kept a tight lid on it and for very good reason!” Welcome to the latest explosive book called Thunderbolt written by G.James (Greg) Hamilton. Hamilton, also an architect, writer and musician by trade as well as business owner felt compelled to write the truth behind Thunderbolt’ legend after falling into the job by mere serendipity. “I rang the city fathers of Uralla to see if I could use the name ‘Uralla’ in a small political satire I was writing,” he said. “The spokesman, who happened to be a descendant of Thunderbolt, said it was okay but asked me why would I waste my time doing that when there was a far greater story that could be told? “Not long thereafter I drove across the Dorrigo Range and what transpired next changed everything.” Hamilton was so engrossed by what he'd discovered on Thunderbolt that he felt compelled to tell the tale. And he is not the only one. Distant relative of Thunderbolt, NSW National’s leader Andrew Stoner, will next week push for a Standing Order 52 in the Upper House about police corruption involving the shooting and subsequent death of Thunderbolt – an event alleged to have taken place in 1870 in Uralla. Not so according to Hamilton for Thunderbolt died at an old age in North America as did his mother and Hamilton is not alone in this line of thinking. “A young police officer was sent to Uralla with the sole task of 'exterminating' Thunderbolt but he shot the wrong man,” said Hamilton. “As you can imagine, this sent the authorities into raptures. Because the common folk of the New England were already at loggerheads with the establishment over Ben Hall’s suspicious death in 1865, it was the final straw for many of them. “The government was worried that Thunderbolt might become the leader of another Eureka," Hamilton says. "That’s why they had to kill the man and bury the legend.” In 1873, Henry Parkes, the then Prime Minister of New South Wales (before they became premiers) bowed to public pressure and held an inquiry into the causes of bushranging and the results exposed the abuse of power by authorities, unjust laws and a punishing 'justice' system. The Governor pardoned 24 jailed bushrangers. Thunderbolt’s tale has always been on the periphery for many. The official version of events we've been fed never generated much interest or discussion. His story reads like many bushranging yarns – a petty criminal who graduated to bushranging as a malcontent and he died as violently as he lived. A non-conformist, Thunderbolt saddled up with wife Mary-Ann Bugg, an amazing woman in her own right, who would swim out to Cockatoo Island on three separate occasions to try and free him. On the third attempt she succeeded in releasing Thunderbolt from his island prison and along with Fred Britton they swam across the Harbour to their liberty. “Thunderbolt was not a violent man and was a great English actor,” said Hamilton. “Many bushrangers were great actors and no matter how much the establishment invested in catching him he was just too good in the saddle. “He had friends everywhere from Inverell and Bundarra and throughout the northern half of the state and beyond.” According to renowned poet Les Murray, the tragedy with Thunderbolt is that he was victimised by the New South Wales Police whose brutal actions were later sadly vindicated by a murderous Ned Kelly. Even notorious bushranger Frank Gardiner said that the bushranging fraternity looked up to Thunderbolt as he was ‘the cream of the crop’ and an example of how to do things right as a felon. “Yet the irony of all of this, as Les Murray puts it is that like Thunderbolt, I too, have to take on the New South Wales Police and the government as well,” said Hamilton. In the words of Pope John Paul II – “The truth is not always the same as the majority decision.” And history is always written by the victors.
Mad Dog Gillham
Story by Dane Millerd Photo by Paul Denham
He may not be big in New York, Paris or Tokyo but Col 'Mad Dog' Gillham is certainly big in Boggabri. Mad Dog, is tattooed across the Boggabri town sign as you enter and further examination tells you why. Mad Dog has been a consistent and passionate campaigner for cancer awareness and other diseases for a number of years now having raised close to $150,000 to date with no sign of stopping. "No charity is off limits," said Mad Dog. "I once walked from Boggy to Gunnedah with 74 bras stapled to me to raise money for cancer sufferers and I also rode a stick horse over the same 39 kilometre distance for charity as well," he said. "I also shore sheep for 24 hours to help people in the region suffering from Multiple Sclerosis." And it doesn't stop there. Mad Dog also pushed a wheelbarrow to Narrabri for the Relay for Life and more recently he swam from the Boston Bridge in Boggabri eight kilometres to the steel bridge on the way to Manilla. He did it in the middle of July. "It was a little nippy to say the least," he said. "I want to contribute and keep doing these things as long as I can as it helps people in their plight," he said. "I'm more than happy to help."
Guyra meteor blast
Story by Dane Millerd Photo reconstruction by Paul Denham
In December 1999 an unidentified flying object crashed into a dam in Guyra in the Northern Tablelands of NSW. The ensuing months before had reported an array of sighting across the mainland and like most, were dispelled before they even had a chance to breathe. Guyra was different. Official statements by local police state that the ‘meteorite’ left a worm hole 20 metres deep at the bottom of a water supply reservoir propelling itself into the granite below! It was called a meteorite because no-one knew what else to name it. A man named only as Brian was to later contact Ipswich police about the incident in Guyra. His call was ignored and his testimony never substantiated. Yet he claimed that on the night in question, he was driving through Guyra on the way up to Ipswich to visit family. As he drove along the lonely road, he reported seeing a collage of red omni lights flashing in the distance. Initially, Brian believed the lights to be his eyes playing tricks amongst the myriad of other red lights on the quiet moonlit highway. But they weren’t. “My eyes burned and so did my skin! The next day my sight was that badly affected I had to wear dark glasses. My eyes were unusually red and bloodshot.” Brian would later go onto say that there was - ‘so much light you would have thought you were at Kingsford Smith Aerodrome!’
Ring of Rain
Story by Paul Denham Photo by Charles Silvestro
Ring of cloud mystery
Local Legends staff noticed some independent reports recently and in fact one of our researchers happened to snap a screen grab of when this recent event occurred. The Australian Bureau of Meteorology satellite photo shows this screen grab of the mysterious ring of cloud over mid southern Western Australia snapped by Charles Silvestro. Charles claimed that when he zoomed in it looked like showers and rain. Some claim the obvious in that it is a digital radar malfunction yet, others suspect more sinister theories to what happened on the 15th January 2010. Another satellite had some strange images in the form of cloud circulation forming. Colin Andrews ( UK) claims this is possibly to do more with HAARP – (High Frequency Active Auroral Research Program).
Many have claimed poms need to get technical because they can’t play cricket. Yet some claim weather weapons are always being tested. Australian Weather weapon history - See the story about the six rain making Steiger Vortex guns in Charleville QLD in which gun powder blasts were shot into the clouds to make it rain in 1902 by Clement Wragge.
http://www.austehc.unimelb.edu.au/fam/0825.html
I must say the weather variations have sure been strange in the last few days. Some days sweltering with the A/C blasting on full at night just to sleep and other days with the same amount of clear sunshine and no wind and you feel like rugging in a jumper. Strange!
Night Flight of the Min Min Light
Story by LL Staffers Photo reconstruction by Paul Denham
Novaya Zemyla effects (named after the location of the classic long distance mirage of the sun) as observed by Willem Barents north of Siberia in 1597, have been around for centuries. In Australia, perhaps none is more famous than the Min Min Light near Boulia in south-western Queensland.
The most authentic sighting of the Min Min as quoted by veteran researcher, Stan Seers, in his book “UFOs -the case for Scientific Myopia” given by a Mr. C. Rhodes. He was travelling the stock route between Winton and Boulia, with 2 other men. On l0th February, 1951, they were camped about 2 miles west of the site of the old Min Min Hotel with Mick and Dane reliving the account.
“At about 8.30 pm, we were about to turn into our swags. I glanced to the north and saw a strange light hovering in the sky. This was on open downs country, interlaced with small gidyea creeks, none of the trees being over fifteen feet in height. While we watched, the light glided swiftly and smoothly through about 40 degrees to the west in a matter of moments. It then jazzed up and down for a while before coming to rest. Every movement was extremely fast. I was puzzled at the pace it travelled, and thought it must be very close. You can image my surprise when it disappeared in the edges of a small cloud, which I estimated to be about 15 miles away. It could have been closer. It then reappeared at the bottom of the cloud; and simultaneously a second light appeared above the cloud. It moved west again but when it reached the edge of the cloud only one light was visible!”
“I watched for about 10 seconds, yet I calculated it had moved at least 30 miles. There were no roads in that direction, and this light was up in the sky, hovering - large and bright; about twice the size and brilliance of Venus…”
Radio Daze Story by Dane Millerd
To most of us the sound of a radio spruiking out tunes is welcome, but to Brad Bartlett, it brings back memories of his radio daze ..
Local Legends caught up with Brad recently, who explained his ghostly experience with a strange car radio. "Every time I turned off the car and got out, the radio would start playing by itself." "Like many other young guys, back in the 1970's, I loved cars." Brad explained. "I used to love fixing them up and scavenging parts off them" he continued. "We would sneak into the "Death Wrecks" yard, as they were known back then and take the odd thing or two, one day, my mate I'll refer to as Scrubba and I found a radio in one that was a perfect match to put in my old beast. We unhooked it from the wreck and all of a sudden a set of false teeth fell out from under the dash and hit Scrubba on the head. We grabbed the radio and took off as fast as we could." Back home, the boys installed the radio in Brads car and that's when things started to go wrong. "Every time I turned off the car and got out, the radio would start playing by itself." Brad continued. "Sometimes it would play music and other times it would just hiss at me like white noise. I tried everything to stop it, jamming matches and bolts under the knob, pulling fuses, it just wouldn't stop and eventually I ripped it out of the dash and threw it back over the fence at the Death Wreck yard. I just couldn't handle it anymore." Brad reckons the radio is still playing at the yard to this day, he's been too scared to go back there ever since. As for the teeth, well who knows where they ended up, in fact Brad's really not sure if Scrubba didn't take them. "I seem to remember him having a bigger smile than usual after that day, but I didn't want to ask him about it." says Brad.
The Steiger Vortex Guns
What We've Heard About …
The Steiger Vortex Guns (Weather Weapons) in Australia.
It is claimed by some, the Steiger Vortex Guns had multiple 30ft barrels (5-10 or more were built) and they would shoot dry ice up into the atmosphere in certain cloud conditions to make it rain. There are varied accounts as to what happened next. The legend is a conflicting story true or rendered myth. Local sceptics say that – ‘Only air was shot into the atmosphere and it was a hoax and the inventor left town the next day.’ Yet others claim that their crops were drenched with long forgotten rain and a total miracle of controlling the clouds had occurred.
If anyone knows more on this story, let us know. Send us your story.
Synchronicity
Story by Paul Denham
According to Carl Gustav Jung, synchronicity is a force of energy that puts us in the right place at the right time, (or the wrong place at the wrong time.) He described it as an "acausal connecting principle" Jung also believed synchroncities transcend psychie and matter to space and time and he goes further to describe them as "meaningful coincidences." Coincidence? Chance? Synchronicity? No, of course not, these things happen all the time ...
It's much like the story told to me by a friend who lived in Perth W.A., who, having met a girl one day at a party in Hobart TAS, got to talking and discovered that they lived only one street away in Perth W.A. They exchanged numbers and so on, and he didn't hear from her again.
Then one day, some years later, he was thinking about her. He had moved to Alice Springs N.T., and within minutes the phone rang, it was her ! She had called him accidentally, meaning to call someone else in Alice Springs. Then once they got talking realised strangely who each other was. They were both shocked and stunned! She had moved one street away in Alice Springs. She then admitted that she had been thinking about him that day too.
Coincidence? Chance? Synchronicity? No, of course not, these things happen all the time ... Tell us your stories of Synchronicity.. Click on the submissions link and let's hear your story !
Have you ever been involved in a synchronicity or know someone who has?
The Squinting Lions Squinting Lion (left) Even the pigeons love him !
Alston was said to have a "colourful mouth" and would often turn one eye and shout instructions to the workers from afar.
Story & Pictures by Charles Silvestro
The Sydney Town Hall is rife with stories of scandal and deception during its construction in the late 1800's, but none so mysterious as the story of the Squinting Lions. Some men who worked on the project died before its completion, others simply gave up, but one man, who perhaps had the most influence, was the general foreman in charge, Mr Thomas Alston. Alston was responsible for several structures around the city of Sydney, and on the worksite he was known to have a wise eye for detail. Alston was said to have a "colourful mouth" and would often turn one eye and shout instructions to the workers from afar. When the Town Hall was completed in 1874, and it was found that one of the Lions on the George Street face of the structure had an uncanny resemblance to this wry character. It's face appears to be winking .. There is also another Lion on the South side of the building, this time with a squinting face, and it said this was another interpretation by stonemasons who believed the foreman had a more permanent squint rather than a wink. In the 1960's, university students cleaned part of the Town Hall as a prank, and the City of Sydney was shamed into finishing the job, and in so doing one of the contractors ladders damaged the face of this Lion. A hurried repair with some concrete altered the original Lions face and the squinting eye is now not as obvious as it once was.
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Some words can be Psoidon For those not in the know, the word Psoidon apparently means Devil. The word was made infamous for the real-life survival tale the Psoidon Adventure. Interestingly, every ship named Psoidon has vanished or crashed... hmm? Why anyone would name their ship or aircraft after it remains a mystery. An interesting legend we were told occurred in La Perouse in the 50s. A Psoidon luxury liner overturned when the Captain went insane. The old ships would often have a woman carved at the front. This liner was found by a boy in a cave underneath the third runway of Mascot Airport at low tide and the only hint was the carving of the woman wedged into the rock face of the cave...
Was not me who put the noose around his neck!
A young couple were driving through Central Western NSW one stormy night when they decided to stop over at the Coach House Inn. It was too treacherous to drive on and they were tired. So they checked in and ascended the spiral staircase to their room and a decent nights slumber. During the course of the night, the man, who we will call Barry for the sake of the argument, noticed how restless his wife, Lisette, was. She was fussing and frolicking about like a tuna on the table in a tinny. He tried to nudge her to be still but she got worse, and worse. And then – She rose. Almost like she had been summonsed from above and turned to look at Barry before uttering – “It was not me who put the noose around his neck!” At that Lisette tried to grab Barry around the throat. Not needing to see any more of the theatrics, Barry bolted down the spiral staircase and out into the driving rain. That night her slept in the foyer of the hotel. The next morning he was awoken by the publican who had a look of amusement on his face. Barry never even got the chance to explain before the publican began to tell him the history of the place
“There was a husband and wife who were the original owners of this hotel. They were always fighting. One stormy night, the husband, in a fit of rage, threw his wife down the stairs, killing her.
“The man was then arrested and sentenced to death by hanging in what is now the local park. Occasionally, both come back to visit …”
Rain of Rocks
At a property called “Corabin” near the isolated hamlet of Pumphrey in Western Australia a strange thing occurred in 1957. Affable farmworker Alan Donaldson was a hardworking, decent, bloke who kept to himself. Not much happened in his life and not much startled him but he was utterly beside himself with fright due to an unusual occurrence. Warm stones dropped from the sky, following Alan no matter where he went. As days passed by and with the stones showing no signs of abating, Donaldson was forced to admit that something beyond 'normal human comprehension' was happenning to him. Everyone agreed and realised that this could not be someone playing an elaborate trick as there was no one that could have achieved such a feat. Stone showers are not uncommon, with reports dating back to May 1821 to a house in Truro, Cornwall. Yet other reports claim a silver shower storm on February 6th, 1969 around an area called Rosewood near Ipswich in Queensland. Whatever the case, be under no illusions, the stones had to have fallen from up there somewhere!
The luck of the Irish Three Irish gold diggers had a big change of luck when they found an alluvial Gold reef in an unmarked location of Australia’s outback sometime in the 1800’s. They rushed back to town stocking supplies and horses for their return to the site to collect their bounty of Eldorado.
The men decided to remain strict and sober and worked tirelessly filling the pack saddles with nuggets of gold. After a few days when the packsaddles were filled they decided to have a celebratory drink for the night. Their horses were strapped with gold and they would leave for town at first light to trade the gold for unimaginable riches.
On that very night drinking in celebration they dreamed the dreams of rich men. It wasn’t long before their dreams clashed with each other and scuffle and then a drunken fight broke out amongst the men. In the commotion the heavy gold laden horses spooked and bolted. The men never saw their horses or gold again and it is legend that in some far place in the outback lay 3 horse skeletons packed with gold.
Tsunami - Tidal Wave - Storm Surge To many people, horrifying images come to mind of the immense power of seawater overtaking the land. Many Australians could be shocked that the biggest recorded storm surge in the world took place at Bathurst Bay, Northern Queensland in 1899.
The water rose over the bay killing approximately 307 known people including drownings on the inland bound wave and countless Aboriginal rescuers on the back surge wave washing many out to sea. Dolphins, sharks and fish were found dead on cliff tops over 15.2 metres above normal sea level and the sea water reached in some places 5 kms inland.
In comparison, Hurricane Katrina in Florida, USA 2005 with its catastrophic storm surge was measured at 7.2 metres being just less than half the height of the Bathurst Bay storm surge and the Tsunami wave heights over running Banda Aceh, Sumatra Indonesia 2004 measured 10 metres.
The Camp Kitchen
The menu today read something like this: Smoked roo meat, venison and steak with mushrooms over-easy. Nice and simple and most of the ingredients can be found just outside the back door of Gunnedah’s most laid-back and unusual al fresco diner – the Camp just another day at Gunnedah’s most iconic alfresco diner – the Camp Kitchen. And it is strictly BYO. Membership is however, restrictive, with only Robert “Davo” Davison, Peter (PJ) Jeffree and Robert “Frog” Horne, appearing on the roll. Frog earned his place after he donated left-over timber from his home to build CK three years ago. Nestled not far from the banks of the Namoi River with idyllic panoramic views, Camp Kitchen has some strict, but fairly basic, guidelines for guests – you must have at least one thong on at all times and love a drink. “We don’t have any gaming machines, pool tables or pub TAB here but we do have a chicken named Betsy May,” said Davo. “We also play cards and have a knife-throwing competition.” Members have an AGM that has allowed them to implement new rules such as having a clock that permanently sits at 5pm so the camp kitchen always remains open. The clock idea was passed unanimously. “We also comply with new smoking laws,” said Davo. “Up to 95 per cent of Camp Kitchen is exposed to the elements which also means we have had to contend with floods as well.” “The flood last December was so wet you could’ve drowned kittens in your armpits.” he said. The boys eat anything they can catch and love a party or a game of cricket. Recently the very first Australia versus League of Nations was held with players coming from as far away as South Africa. “We get all walks of life here,” said PJ. “We’ve never had any dramas although Davo did fall arse over head into the fire one night and woke up stuck to a sheet.” “We all love a good sing-a-long as well.” While the boys have never needed an excuse to have a ge- together on any day that ends with a “y” Davo knows one thing for sure. “No-one’s ever called ‘last drinks gents’.” “But everyone does go home, eventually and I stay here with the chook!”
Pig Chasing Chicks
Amber Lumby and Rebecca Bird of Mullaley are not your average country girls. While others are happy with watching Video Hits, wasting time on Face Book or chasing blokes, these sweeties go hunting bigger game – pigs. Amber, a 17-year-old student and Rebecca, 23, who helps out at the Mullaley Roadhouse, love to go piggin’ every chance they get. Both have been doing it (chasing pigs, that is) for over two years now and as Amber says, it’s for the “thrill of the kill!” Both have had plenty of tumbles and spills hunting down hogs, although no major injuries as yet – touch wood – and they always like to take new blokes out for a run – to see if they can handle it. “We’ve gone piggin’ with a few guys now but most of them are soft,” said Rebecca. “They just can’t keep up.” Rebecca and Amber once caught a 105kg sow and two other brutes that weighed in at 98kgs each. No mean feat for two girls so slight. On one trip Rebecca recalls the “big one that got away” when her boyfriend squealed and couldn’t toss the hog. “He should’ve been wearing a skirt,” Rebecca snorted. “Typical blokes – getting women to do everything.” They’ve been lost in the scrub doing what they love best and chased up trees by wild beasts, but it hasn’t dampened their spirit. “One time we had to rescue our dogs from the river near Binnaway,” said Amber. “The pig and the dogs were struggling with each other and Rebecca and I took off our clothes and dived in.” “We were wet for the rest of the night.” When asked what they would be doing if they weren’t pig-chasing the girls looked at each other and laughed. “Not much, it would be pretty boring actually,” said Amber. “I wouldn’t have much to do either,” Rebecca said. Amber points to her watch. “Can we wrap this up, we’re going piggin.”
