Itchy Bum Scratched at Darwin Cup (10.8.2007)
I had a big weekend last weekend, with mixed results.
I was invited to a combined birthday party on Saturday night, down at Howard Springs – maybe half an hour south of Darwin, in the rural area. My mate Ben and his lovely wife Justine recently moved down there, onto a few acres, with their two kids.
The place is beautiful – plenty of room for the dog and kids to run around, a nice pool, big shed and a lovely louvre-riddled house. They have a neighbour on one side, the Howard River Reserve on the other……..and a big swamp out the back. I cast my discerning eye over the grounds and pondered the likelihood of crocs enjoying their swamp and what they might think of the new neighbours. See, the plan was, that I’d be sleeping in my swag, on the ground, about 30 metres away from the swamp’s bank – I had a few reservations re the wisdom of this plan. I asked how far up the yard the swamp encroached during the wet season – I was assured it only came halfway up, as there was an emergency overflow spillway on the other side. Hmmmm.
Justine is a hairdresser by trade and with the Darwin Cup Carnival finale and public holiday on the Monday, she’d agreed to fix up the hair of a few friends. The Darwin Cup is the social highlight of the year in Darwin – about the only time the ladies get to really dress up formally. So, obviously hair-dresser appointments are at a premium. In addition, Justine had her aunty and uncle up on a visit, with one of their grown kids – which was exciting – because they would get to enjoy both the Saturday night birthday party as well as the Cup celebrations!
Sixty to eighty people were expected at the party, with many intending to sleep over. Myself and my mate James had volunteered to arrive early and give Ben a hand getting some firewood etc. James had worked nightshift Friday and decided to drive down and come home on Sunday – this suited me fine.
So we finally found our way to Ben’s place, drove around the back and leapt out all ready to get into it. Ben appeared a bit distressed and there was no sign of Justine or the kids, or their visitors. Ben grabbed us a Crownie and explained that Justine was taking her aunty, uncle and cousin to the airport – they’d just got a call – their other daughter had just hanged herself, back in Sydney! Dead at 22, had spoken to her parents the day before all happy, was engaged to be married, was working as a youth counsellor – and never asked for help. Devastating all round.
So that obviously put a bit of a dampener on the festivities, and certainly ruled out any hairdressing. They decided it was probably too hard to cancel the party at such a late hour, and hoped it would take their minds off it for a while – they were gonna keep the story a secret but by the end of the night, everyone seemed to know.
Anyway, Myself, James and Ben headed into the bush at Gunn Point to get some firewood. Ben brought his trusty new chainsaw and we picked a spot where a fire had been through months before. There were dead gum leaves all over the black ground and we were wearing thongs. The terrain looked like an absolute paradise for Death Adder ambushes. There were all manner of little burrows and soft spots under foot, where who knows what kind of spiders, scorpions and assorted other deadly creatures lurked, just awaiting the soft inner arch of a blackened wood hunters foot, to strike. The timber was hard as a rock, red gum, which quickly blunted the chainy – and ninety percent of it was hollow. This would be a prime spot for the getting of didgeridoo stock – the termites manage to eat the heart out of the gum trees, which are rarely any thicker than a man’s leg. The hollow logs also struck me as superb homes for dangerous beasties. I was only wearing thin cammo pants, a tee shirt, thongs and my hat – and though I got covered in charcoal, I was most glad to finally dump the last log into the back of the ute without any apparent neurotoxins coursing through my veins!
The fire turned out to be a great hit, as the temp got pretty cool later on and the party descended upon it. A few brave souls decided to take the kiddie 4-wheeler motorbike for a spin at about 2am. Someone picked up a canetoad – the first (of no doubt millions) that I’ve seen this far north. They whizzed past on the bike and dumped the poisonous, leathery beast into the fire – it didn’t seem much of a way to go to me, but it had to be dispatched somehow I suppose. We took some shots of Butterscotch Schnapps there at one stage – which was different, and then some flavoured vodka was passed around.
We had been warned that the mozzies come out for a while after dark, but then go away. I sprayed myself with Aeroguard, Rid, and some Bushman’s – thinking I’ll be alright in my long dacks and shirt. I did notice a few mozzies around every now and then and just waved them away.
Was this a successful strategy to avoid being bitten on a Howard Springs property, bordering on twenty square kilometres of pristine swamp land?
Absolutely not! Totally inadequate! These determined little blighters drill straight through cotton pants, jocks and tee shirts, at will – and lick up chemical deterrents like a fat kid slurping an ice-cream!
James only had a few beers and ended up driving us home at about 3:30am. I slept in till about 10am and pretty much bludged around for the rest of the day.
Monday, Cup Day, I was awoken at about 9 by my mate Mark calling from Cessnock, NSW with his tips and betting requests for the Cup.
I walked down to the track at midday and my route to the bookies ring, took me straight past the stables. I examined the horses as I walked by and actually stopped and took off my sunnies to check out a beautiful Chestnut. Though not a huge beast, he was in great nick and up on his toes, well muscled with an intelligent look in his eye. While I admired his equine grandeur, he appeared to give me a wink! I looked around and noted his name.
I had narrowed the third race down to three contenders – then I noticed “Our Chequemate”. Hang on there – that’s my little chestnut mate that gave me the wink. I’m on him! I told the guys about the nod and wink and they laughed – so did I when I went to collect my hundred dollars for the win, about ten minutes later!
Further on I laid down a fifty on the favourite and won another 110 smackers (while I was in the toilet, missing the race completely!). And I managed to get the winner of the Cup – ten bucks at thirteens! (which was actually trained by an 18 year old kid!).
So, in the end, along with another eighteen thousand people, I enjoyed many beers, I won some cash, I admired many a young filly, got a touch of sunburn, a pair of aching feet and revelled in the unique ambience which is the Darwin Cup Carnival!
……..Unlike many of the other punters however, I squirmed and scratched intermittently at some of the four hundred plus, mozzie bites that even now speckle my bum, back and legs – complements of Howard bloody Springs Swampland!