Governess on a Sheep Station in the Outback - Episode 5
by Chris Chalmers
  Article # 495 Article Type: Literature

Every second Saturday night was ‘Picture Night’ – when the two films sent from Brisbane would be shown on the outdoor picture screen.

The evening started in the afternoon of course – and had been a tradition for many years – with everyone coming to Boatman from surrounding properties, some travelling for hours for this treat. The parties included staff – as many as could be fitted in the truck, car or wagon – along with their supplies.

Huge outdoor tables and benches were permanently in place, as was the screen.
The Boatman kitchen was nearby, and of course the dining room for the ‘ringers’ – which figured greatly later, but I get ahead of myself!

A barbeque was always lit, and each family brought a set item for the feast, one would always bring a particular cake, like the traditional Australian Lamington, which is a large cube of plain sponge coated in delicious chocolate frosting and then rolled in desiccated coconut – guaranteed to make you cough as you bite it – but Australian picnics would not be complete without Lammies, as they are affectionately known!!
Another would bring sandwiches, or a sherry trifle – soaked with sherry and topped with whipped cream at the last moment.

Of course lamb was always on the menu, along with steaks and sausages, onions and mushrooms, all deliciously charred on the hotplate.

The bar was of course the centre of attraction, and stubbies – small bottles of beer – nestled in great vats of ice, along with soft drinks and cordials for the kids and ladies.
Spirits and mixers also tempt, some more than others, but everyone knows what Mrs is like, and pay no attention til she has to be put to bed. I don’t think she ever got to see a film while I was there.

The class division had to be seen to be believed, with distinct groups of bosses, Managers, Jackaroos, Governesses and then other staff, even house maids apart from kitchen staff – and no foot was put from one to the other without invitation.

When the first feed had been had, and darkness fell, the first reel of the first film was loaded from its can, and everyone settled in the canvas seats to watch the entertainment. Of course there were a group of dedicated projectionists, all liberally imbibing their favourite tipple, and between the reels more refreshments were taken. It was often well past midnight by the time the first reel of the second film was fitted into the projector, and many is the time when it had to be removed and re-fitted, this time the right way round. The interval between films lasted at least two hours, with much socialising and refreshment taking.

When the films were finally finished, people unrolled their swags and made themselves comfy for the night, ready to sleep a well deserved sleep. The insect repellent of the day, was pretty basic, but worked fine if you could stand the smell – but as there was little water around for mosquitoes to breed in, they were not a problem. Moths were avoidable, and the flies were asleep! It is amazing how quickly you become accustomed to living with the insects, and these were a lot less of a problem than those in the Tropics!!!

The younger ones removed to the Staff Dining Room off the kitchen, and moved the tables and seats and sprinkled that wooden floor with a powder that is used on ballroom floors and danced the night right through. I was taught the Viennese Waltz by a champion dancer, who in his day job was an old ‘roustabout’ – no taller than me, with bandy legs from riding horses all his life, but with the lightest feet you could wish to find on anyone – and I had done my share of modern ballroom dancing even at that age, as television had yet to reach the Tropics, and entertainment for youngsters was the picture theatre – one film a week – or the local dances, and in those days the Jive was only just reaching the far north shores of Queensland.

The Sundays after ‘picture night’ were always very quiet, and spent doing your laundry or just lazing on the verandah with a book, or listening to the wireless, or writing letters.

I wrote to my parents once a week, and still to this day have the yellow pigskin leather writing case they gave me. The fountain pen, a Parker I think, has long long been lost, but the mail truck came on Monday and Thursday, and letters had to be on the boss’s desk by Sunday night.

Ray was also in my life, but our story is a whole other tale – and not for telling right here. Lots of letters were written, and none kept, which is a pity!

Life just rolled on at Boatman, there was a very comforting routine to it, and it was only broken when something major happened………

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