Need a few good yarns

Lang, couldnt help but have a bit of a chuckle and manage a wry smile or two at your above post. Got out of the green machine early 1974 and like a hell of a lot of others, took a while to find the right 'niche'. Tallied the jobs up one time and had 14 jobs in the first 22 months! AND never out of work! Someboby would look sideways at you, that would be it! Snatchit must have been my second name! Went home very briefly and copped a roast off my late mother, " look at your father, came home from the war , picked up his job and worked there for the next 26 years.... yada...yarda". Your eldest brother left school at 14 and only ever had the one job his entire life......yarda....yarda. What is wrong with you??" I gave her my best smile and said,"Ma. A man of my potential has to spread himself around!" Somehow didn't wash! Made up for it somewhat though, next couple got about 12 and 15 years respectively. Entirely different era of course, plenty of work around and returned men were supposed to be given preference. That didnt always work out either, depends on employers stance towards the military and/ or conscription. But had a lot of laughs and wouldn't change it for quids!

Eyesight!

Sydney trip with the Road Manager, horses to pick up on the way from Melbourne.
Broad daylight, north of Tarcutta he asks me, " Did you see that cow on the side of the road "?
Thought he was joking, so replied, " What cow ". He became serious, and said, " There was a
cow right on the fog line and you just missed it "! Then, " When you get home, get your eyes tested ".

Must be honest, had been having trouble finding phone boxes. Big green road signs were ok,
but smaller street and road signs not readable unless right up next to them.

Off to the optometrist for the test. He says, " Paul, you shouldn't be driving at all ".
Get the spec's. retest and he says, " Now you could pass an airline pilot's licence test ".

Well, back to work and amazed at what I had missed out on seeing for years.
Big plus was to get the photo sensitive lenses, made it so much easier at night with
the bright lights of oncoming traffic. For example, heading back into Melbourne on
Thursday night before Easter. The Hume was mostly single then.

Was 33 then, smoker, one of CUB's regular customers and probably not the best of
diets. Eyesight did improve later when more attention paid to health.
Just a bloke doing his thing!

Sure can be lucky!

Some teachers were always up you saying you want to do type of job or that you have to be able to do these things. My simple reply was that there are enough brain surgeons out there, some one has to dig the holes to bury their mistakes.
So after agreeing to leave school first job was an attempt to learn panel beating but all they wanted to teach you to become a plastic surgeon. In 2 years 5 employers so I started in earthmoving. Had a great time pushing up clay at Kemps Creek for various brickworks until the boss's son decided he wanted me dead because of a bit of fluff so I went. Spent a long time, 14 years digging holes for way too many companies. I decided that if I was going to dig holes and make roads I would work for whoever paid the most and that worked well. Next change was into the tyre trade, solid rubber stuff and worked from stores and onsite fitting to sales and had a great time doing so but Sydney was just pissing me off way too much so sold out and moved to Harrington near Taree. Ended up as 2ic at Beaurepairs or slow repairs on tyres until the store manager who suffered with small mans syndrome pissed me off once too many times and went into the blind and awnings game. Worked for a company around 7 years until they closed and then I went out on my own back in 1996. Been at it ever since, love it and still enjoy going out fixing old stuff, selling new and cleaning most of the blinds. While I enjoy it I will continue and the same for Dee and her curtain making.

Many moons ago i was working at Blue Metal & Gravel as a plant fitter .Our section looked after all the mobile quarry gear.
This was dump trucks , loaders, graders, dozers, cranes, and any engines that were lying around.
On the dayshift (starting at 7 am) four of us started at 5am to fire every thing up that came back to the workshop of a night,
so when the operators started at 7am they were ok to go. This meant a quick check, run them over the pits and pump up all
tyres etc.
A new young bloke had started as a labourer and after a couple of months was added to the early start crew.
This particular day was a cold dark and foggy winters morning and the young bloke was as keen as hell,
so off he goes into the fog to the truck parking area. After a while some one says wheres Bob, he has vanished,
next thing ,here is Bob staggering into the workshop as white as a ghost . It took a while to get out of him
what had happened. Thinking back, i think he may have been in shock, but no one thought of that.
Any way some one took him home and we never saw him again................
Now what had happened was.........at front of the line was an old FG Foden . The truck park area was
gradually being extended by the rear dumps bringing a load of over burden back at the end of shift.
Occasionally the grader operator would level the dirt out. There was a sort of creek running along
side of the parking area and the batter dropped of about 20 feet from the deck to the creek also there
was a line of old oak trees along the side of said creek.
So Bob jumps in the old Foden which had an Eastern side tipping trailer on the back that took rock
from the face shovels to the unloading boot where it went into the crusher.
First thing he does is whip it out of gear, then notices the thing is starting to amble off, then goes for
the brakes......no air...........goes for the hand brake which was non existent .
At this stage no chance to get it back into gear .........
Looks out the front.........windows all fogged up as well as the heavy fog outside.
Decides the only thing is to bail out.......then finds no inside door handle............
By this time the old girl is starting to get mobile...... so as he was kicking shit out of the door in
a vain attempt to get it open, the old Foden starts to slide over the edge of the bank, This throws him
over onto the passengers side floor on his head. so over the side she goes, then next there is a hell of
a bang....... a complete roll over was averted when the trailer slides into a couple of the oak trees
and the whole thing comes to a halt at a 45 degree angle with Bob jammed in the passenger side.
He still cannot see anything, but manages to open the passengers door,.then falls out and lands
in the creek. ............
So this was why he was a little flustered............
So while he was taken home, we did a little recovery job .......hooked a Mitchy loader onto the front
of the Foden, .....another one onto the trailer body to keep it from falling right over. and snigged
it all onto level ground. The only mark on the thing was a scratch on the trailer body where it landed
on the tree. ( there may have been a few boot impressions inside the cab ......
So we fired it up, ran it through the work shop, checked things over, parked it on the line,
where the driver jumped into it and did his days work , none the wiser about the earlier drama. ........
So no wonder poor old Bob didnt feel like coming back again.............
.......................Billy.....................

And then there was the time I was living in a remote aboriginal community; no alcohol, but a pub nearby, an easy 165kms away, of typical corrugations, wandering livestock, rock outcrops, and drop aways.
So wife, baby daughter, and a young female teacher scoot out for a wee dram or two, and then with 30 odd kilometres to go to reach home we were driving along the two wheel tracks between medium height scrub, at about 80 clicks an hour, when a horse crosses the road about ten car lengths ahead . . . instant panic ensues as speed is hurriedly reduced while I'm making sure that:
1. the horse doesn't come back
2. a second horse doesn't join his mate
3. the baby is still where she should be
4. all passengers are still in their seats!
5. my head and eyes are going from left to right at the spots where the horse had come from, and disappeared into???
Almost at the former spot (mere seconds later) with speed down dramatically, but not quite enough as a second horse steps out directly in front of us! WALLOP!
We hit it with a very solid bull bar just below the front left shoulder, causing the neck and head to slew sideways into the right hand window post. And then all was quiet except for the females carrying on like pork chops . . . baby still asleep. :blink:
The HJ47 Toyota now no longer had a one piece windscreen. more like a hundred and one piece laminated mess. Right hand windshield post was mildly bent and the front guard was reshaped slightly also . . . but the horse was definitely worse off with the left front leg hanging by a few sinews and laying on his side wheezing softly.
After a hurried assessment I decide it would be best to finish the horse off as quickly as possible, dreading the idea of driving across its neck, but the fairer sex won't have it, "Go and grab Mack's gun, to shoot it," is their best offering despite my explanation about time to get the gun etc, and so the poor horse was left to whimper and wheeze as we took off.
Now you have to realise that this is close to midnight, but after dropping off the passengers I call on Mack - "Sorry, sold the gun to one of the locals this afternoon." Hmmm? "No that's okay, we'll go and borrow it." A quick trundle around the community to locate the rifle and back out to the horse. Dead.
Mack, who had been in the community longer than me (I was a new guy, barely four or five months) looks at the horse and says, "I think I recognise this horse, but don't worry, let's get it off the road before somebody comes along and crashes into it!" Chain around the horse and the Toyota drags it into the scrub and we return home. Me, mortified at the outcome all round.
Next morning I'm at work when the phone rings, Mack: "Barney is on his way to see you, it was his horse after all and they've found it and put two and two together to figure out who was responsible! Keep your cool and play it safe."
Apparently the horse was the top racehorse in the community, it was entered in the Marla race meeting on the following Saturday, with a brand new set of tack ready for the ride, and with several thousand dollars from the locals already backing it! PDU in deep doo doo!
Long story short (well, as short as I can make it :pinch:) Barney and I discuss my inability to pay for the horse (I'm not there because I'm rich, I'm there to make some money) despite the fact that it was like a member of his family and like a son to him. Sidenote: Anywhere else in Australia if a horse wanders onto the road and you hit it, the owner would be responsible for the damages to your car, but not where I was - it is their land, and we are the visitors . . . PDU still in deep doo doo, almost up to his neck!
However I am aware of certain procedures; in this case napatji-napatji, a bit like cheek for cheek - and when Barney says, "Maybe you take my horse, I take your car?" I instantly realise the $6000 value suggested is amazing similar to what I had paid for the Toyota a few weeks previously, but I'm not coming at that, and Barney says, "No, no, the other one," which was my Valiant Wagon I had originally arrived in (ex stolen vehicle, that I had rebuilt using a written off Chrysler by Chrysler and now running a 360 V8). Again this was an obvious no no so far as I was concerned and despite the fact that it owed me nothing I said, "Can't do that, it's on finance." Barney immediately decides he didn't want that either and says, "Or the other one you got there?" This was a split window Kombi I had A-framed up from Adelaide and had been bombing around in, and which had notably dropped a piston a few days prior. Yeah, that seemed like a reasonable way out . . . and everyone left muchly satisfied.

One would assume I would have been instantly disliked by the general populace, but the opposite was what happened because I had followed the napatji-napatji system and Barney and I were both satisfied with the result. When an agreement is reached the matter becomes a closed subject, with nothing further to be said about the incident, at all, after that. End result, over the next few days I overheard various quiet comments as I wandered around, such as, "He a napatji-napatji man." :blush:

I'll bet you wished you had the split window VW now. They're worth BIG money.

Many moons ago was driving a single drive Pete towing what was then, a brand new "skinny rib" 40 foot refrigerated pan for a well known company (at the time).
Pretty cushy job running up MT to Quirindi, load dressed turkeys loaded into corn bags, bring them down to the stores at Tahmoor NSW.
First time out with the big van and wasn't paying all that much attention to the way we loaded it this particular time. Loaders were pretty good, never too far out. Got a bit carried away and started stacking them up a bit against the front wall. Got to about two-three feet from the rear doors, OOPS! run out of turkeys, go back in the freezer grab two more pallets, chuck em on the floor, fills the hole up. Knew I was likely to be a little over on the drive, but with the tri down the back, shouldn't be too far out on the gross.
Head off, join the New England at Willow Tree, bloke walking over to his truck points down the road south a few times. Damn , They are weighing at Kankool!
Pass a few trucks heading North, other than a brief wave, NOTHING!
Maybe packed up for the day? Bit early though.
If you were heading south and they (DMR) wanted you in on the scales, they would walk out with a flag or a baton, make sure nobody was coming off the Liverpool Range at breakneck speed. Sure enough, waved in.
Does a "U'y", pulls onto the pad, only big enough for a bogie drive P/M, watching for a sign to move forward, bloke eventually waves me forward, stop again weigh the tri. He's hanging out the doorway, waving me back so he can re-weigh the drive. I stop, he beckons me in and points at the old circular dial, and says your nearly three quarters of a ton over on the drive!
What about the tri, I ask, Yeah, your about a ton under on the group.
What have you got on. Been up and down there many times, they knew I was only doing Quirindi to Tahmoor, was in the log book anyway.
Still don't know what made me say it, but answerered "Bulk peas!", must have run forward when I touched the skids coming onto the New England.
He looks at his mate, both got a bit of a grin on their faces, Says. "Bulk peas! For THAT you can go, don't ever try it again though!"
When the papewrork came through for the load of turkeys (estimated from bagged weight, had just over 40,000lb on. No wonder she worked coming down the Putty.

Dave_64.

Nuisance doing a uey into that checking station across the New England, then again to continue south.
Through there three times one day. Early start out of Brisbane, phone call to stable those horses at Scone,
run back empty to Tamworth and pick up young horses for a sale in Sydney. Third visit, officer has a look
at the log book and says, " Just watch your driving hours ". They were quite reasonable to deal with.
This was a carefully planned trip adjustment by the office staff, communicated on the truck phone!

Another trip, south from Brisbane to the Upper Hunter and heading for Melbourne the next day.
Phone call, take the horses off at Euroa, wash the truck out, have a feed and a rest. Come in to the
depot at Flemington. We'll change your load around then you're going on to Adelaide. Got some of
that done, the horses got fed and rest was a good walk around leading them back onto the truck.
Got through the trip ok. Mentioned this to a mate, who said, " If you'll do it they'll let you ".

Can understand those who don't bother to answer these calls, or say, " Sorry, you're breaking up ".

All complaints aside, did enjoy the job.

BillyP

So relieved to read that Bob was only a little flustered.
Must have been something else about the job or his
workmates that caused him to stay away!

Top yarn mate, can see it all happening.

When we were kids we used to go through the bins in the main street to look for Coke bottles so we could cash them in to buy fireworks. Fireworks-we caused havoc then and never lost the knack. In Jo-burg there is the Oriental Market where if you want you can buy all sorts of shit, including fireworks- you bloody beauty- bigger and better stuff we used to buy as kids. I used to get a fair bit of commission from the activities the fans chose to do at Victoria Falls- white water rafting etc etc and this sometimes could amount to US400-500- can buy a LOT of BFO fireworks with that sort of coin. I'd have one of the shop workers help me with a sack truck to take my buy up out to the taxi rank and I had plenty of places to store all the cartons on the truck. As I've mentioned in an earlier yarn I used to run across the Caprivi Strip in Namibia to a small village called Bagani and not far from there was a campsite on the Kavango River feeding the Okavango Delta where the fans could go on safari for a couple of days. Ngepi Camp as it was known was on the southern side of the river and opposite on the northern side was the military base. For some reason I still had the fireworks- I liked to do the 'show' at Kande Beach in Malawi but it may have been too windy or something-thatched roofs on the bar and rooms burn easy. So, to put on the show at Ngepi I hi-jack their ute and burn around to the military base to ask permission for the fireworks and get the OK. that evening the entertainment committee take a tinnie out to a sand bar in the Kavango and set up the evenings entertainment and the military blokes had already set up their deck chairs. The whole show would be over in 15 minutes, maybe 20 and then it was back to the bar to accelerate to oblivion- Namibia has the BEST beer. The next morning the Bagani police force turned up intent on arresting someone and they found the evidence- all the spent stalin organs and stuff in the bins. Apparently the fireworks rattled the public fearing the naughty boys from Angola were invading and caused a short lived panic. It was explained to the officer in charge that we had permission from the military so go around and speak to them and he was not impressed. Impressive fireworks display though. Never did another fireworks display at Ngepi- I've seen enough of jail cells in Africa.