Delivering the weekly mail at the stations of Australia's outback.

What did you do last weekend? Me? Oh, I spent mine travelling 2,600 km (1,612 miles) through the Outback of Australia aboard a twin-engine AeroCommander, delivering mail to remote cattle-stations (ranch in American English).

Sometime in 1977, I came across an article in a travel magazine of a small Australian airline.  This airline is contracted by the Australian postal service to deliver mail on a weekly basis to stations in Australia's Outback.  The aircraft accommodated 3 passengers, in addition to the mail. I had the airline on the phone immediately.  The seats are booked nearly a year in advance for the ideal months to make the trip, June / July / August, winter Down-under.  A seat was available for the 12th of June 1998, so I booked it.  Now I had nine months to anticipate the adventure.

This was to become one of the most truly wonderful, amazing experiences of my 35 years in travel.  No way could I have anticipated the fun, the thrills and learning that awaited me.  I have visited many places, but few offered such dramatic contrasts, from barren rock, thousands of miles of red-rounded gibbers (stones); green pasture land, alternating with dry brown areas of dead vegetation; wide creeks with flocks of pelicans swarming over them. Even more mind boggling was the realization that we flew 2,600km from  Port Augusta in South Australia to Boulia in Queensland, to the north and back again and yet this was only a very small portion of the entire Australian Outback.

If the geological views of the Outback were to amaze me, meeting the people who live there was to be an even more wonderful never-to-be forgotten discovery.

On with the event!

I am an aisle seat person, but for the short 1-hour flight from Adelaide to Port Augusta I asked the counter agent for a window seat so I could do a bit of air borne sightseeing.  "We don't assign seats on this flight, but I don't think it will really be a problem," the agent told me. Was that ever an understatement!  The plane was a twin-engine Piper Chieftain, carrying a grand total of 9 passengers in addition to the pilot!  Everyone not only had a window seat but an aisle one too!  I felt a bit awkward when I realized that passengers and pilot all knew one another.  Little did I realize that by Sunday evening, from gossip heard along the mail run, I would not only know his name too, but learn of his impending marriage.

On arrival at Port Augusta, the passengers quickly dispersed in cars, leaving me with the pilot.  Airport staff had already gone home, so the pilot summoned a taxi by phone.  I told him I would be staying at the Standpipe Motor Inn.  He recommended the curry there.  I didn't quite understand until the turbaned Dr. Grewal, the owner, and his brother invited me for a drink.  Immigrants from north India to Malaysia, and later to Port Augusta.  Needless to say, it was a lucky move for the visitors and inhabitants of Port Augusta.  The curry was great

Saturday morning , it was back by taxi to the airport  As it was early, there were no staff, but I spotted the pilot preparing the aircraft.  Minutes later, Bob and Joyce from New Zealand arrived and we were ready to begin our adventure.  I assumed that being first I would sit in the co-pilot's seat, next to the pilot, and the couple would ride in the 2 seats behind, but it seems other arrangements had been made and the pilot made way for Bob to sit in front and Joyce and I had the rear.  This would turn out to be the better arrangement.

We departed Port Augusta for the 45-minute flight to Leigh Creek, our first mail stop, keeping the Flinders Range on our right and Lake Torrens - a dry salt bed over 100km (62mls) long on our left. Leigh Creek, population 4,000, is where coal is "open mined" and then transported by train to the Port Augusta Power Station.  So important is coal to the town that when a wealth of it was discovered right under the city, the residents were moved several miles away so the coal could be mined.  Only those associated with the mines are allowed to live here. 

After refueling, we took off for the 30-minute flight to Moolawatana Station, passing over the Northern Flinders and the Arkaroola Ranges.  The station size - 485 square miles.  I was beginning to understand why the Outback is referred to as a "geologist's paradise", and we are now seeing and getting a feel of the vastness of the Outback.

Runways vary from dirt, grass, and occasionally even asphalt.

Jeff, our pilot-postman, related an outback story of the fax paper problem.  A station ordered fax paper, but the wrong size was sent, resulting in a one-week delay.  The next box was again the wrong size.  The third box was again not right and, unbelievably, something went wrong with the fourth one.  It took 5 weeks to finally deliver the proper paper!  With mail delivery only once a week, details and facts here in the Outback are of utmost importance!

We landed at Merty Merty and were met by Ali Rieck, a charming young lady, who had come to collect the mail.  It was now that Joyce was to be a big help to me, asking all the questions I wanted to ask myself, one after the other.  "What's a nice girl like you doing living here?  What do you do?  Who lives with you?  Do you have television?  Do you have friends?  How close are your neighbors?  How many cattle do you have?  Where do you get fuel?  Does your brother have a girl friend?"

Ali's replies were remarkably friendly under fierce questioning.  "The station (ranch) size is 1,700 sq. miles, we have 1,200 cattle grazing and we muster (round up) once a year.  It takes about 3 weeks to do this by using a gyro and 4 four-wheel drive Toyotas on the ground.  Cattle have been branded for identification.  I enjoy riding, but my horses wandered off a few weeks ago and so I won't ride until they are found in the next muster, she said nonchalantly.  I live with my mother and 28yr-old brother.  We are currently painting the main shed.  We have satellite television, radio and telephone service.  My brother does not really have a girl friend at this time.  The Strzelecki Track used to run close enough that our station buildings could be seen.  During the tourist season, in the winter months, as many as 60 - 80 cars a month would come by and some would pull into chat.  This got to be a bother, so we had the road moved a bit so that our buildings can no longer be seen!  There is social life, the rodeo for example.  Though it can be several hundred miles to the nearest neighbor, it's not unusual to drive over for tea.  (More on Australian "tea", later)." 

Joyce managed one last question and received the reply, "Those are Herefords."

Jeff cranked up the engines and we proceeded for a short stop at Moomba to refuel.  Even on the ground, scenery continued to amaze us, like another planet.  During the refueling at Moomba, a wild dingo, resembling a small wolf, wandered by, adding to our pleasure.

My information sheet described Innamincka, a tourn of 25, as being a 20-minute hop away.  Truth is, this settlement is now down to 12.  Settled in 1882, Innamincka is situated on the banks of Cooper Creek and boasts one store and one hotel.  This station is 8,000 sq. miles, but is still smaller than the largest one, which is 20,800 sq. miles is nearly the size of the state of Massachusetts!  Just a bit after lift-off the pilot pointed out the famous "Dig Tree" which is near where Bourke and Wills perished on their expedition in 1860-61.  With Cooper Creek on the right, we passed over the Queensland border and flew a total of 30 minutes to Durham Downs,  'Downs' meaning an undulating treeless prairie.  This station supports 20,000 cattle on 4,000 sq. miles.  Joyce asked the lady the size of the station.  She replied that she was not exactly sure, but she thought about 3,500 sq. miles. This was 500 sq. miles short of the statistics in my hand, but, when the scale is this great, it's possible to loose 500 sq. miles and not even notice!  The runway here is covered with gravel composed of red colored 'gibbers' and a ranger explained that milleniums ago this was covered by solid rock.  As it broke down into small stones, over time, the stones in turn became worn rounded and turned red from the minerals that accumulated on their surface.  If you break open a 'gibber', it's gray inside, not red.  Interesting.

We lifted off for the 20-minute hop to Arrabury, with Lake Yamma Yamma on our right and Lake Pure on the left.  I asked Jeff, "Do you ever see another plane?"  "Rarely," was his reply. When asked if he enjoyed flying this particular aircraft, he explained that it is absolutely the best.  "Great trimming, doesn't wander left or right and holds steady on the altitude.  There is an autopilot, but I never use it.  It's a perfect plane for the run, a true gentleman's plane."

Arrabury is the most remote station on the run, the furthest from a track.  This was only 1 of 2 stops where we were not met personally.  "Snobs", said the pilot in jest.  There was a long drop "outhouse" there, so we took a brief break.  Here Bob wandered off and returned with a gorgeous bouquet of desert flowers. It was amazing collection of color, gathered in such a limited area, with so little effort.  We walked over and read a plaque: 
 

Next, Birdsville, population 70, when everyone's at home, was settled in 1882 and is home of the famous Birdsville Hotel.  Remember Crocodile Dundee?  The famous "Birdsville Horse Races" are held here in September each year with as many as 4,000 tourists coming for the event.  Accommodation is a choice of sleeping under the stars or the wing of your plane. Proceeds from the event go to support the Flying Doctors.

Note the seven-course meal at the bar in the Birdsville Hotel.

Here in Birdsville I noticed the steam coming up in great clouds and discovered that, though the Outback is a desolate dry place, if you drill a mile down, there is an ocean of fresh water.

We were in Queensland now, so we moved our watches ahead 30 minutes to the same time zone as Sydney. Coming up from South Australia, there are basically 2 routes, the Birdsville Track, skirting the west of the Strzelecki Desert, and the Strzelecki Track, skirting the east.  It's basically the Strzelecki Track we have followed thus far on our mail run.  The rules of safely driving the long roads of the Outback are a bit different than we were used to.  Here one includes 2 spare tires, an extra fan belt, radio phone and ample food and water.

Bob and Joyce wandered over to the Birdsville Hotel as they would leave us here to overnight.  They would rejoin us tomorrow as Birdsville is visited twice on the mail run.  The plane was refueling, so I walked with them the couple of minutes to the hotel and they tried to locate the front desk, but, it seemed there really wasn't one.  They discovered check-in was at the bar that day!.  Their accommodation was in one of the two motel-like units behind the main building.  It seemed quite pleasant.   Back at the bar, included the day's special for A$14 was the 7-course lunch, a meat pie and a six pack!  I passed on that one.  There are no restroom facilities on the aircraft and the landing strips are so desolate, there isn't a tree to hide behind.  The beer drinking would have to wait until dinner time.

 Strolling towards the plane, I passed the hotel's van.  There, painted in large letters on the side of the van was the name of the local tour company - "Wheredafukarwi Tours".  For you skeptics, I have a photo to prove this!