to leave their past life behind. There were also the buffalo shooters from ‘down south’, overland mailmen and linesmen from ‘down country’ and jackeroos from the ‘nor-west’. On top of that lot, throw in the fettlers who kept the railway open to Birdum, the gold miners of Tennant Creek, cattlemen from the station runs, the squaddies from the garrison and the pompous civil servants of the administration, whose ‘stiff necks’ would have loosened up the longer they spent up here.”
“You paint quite a contrast from this,” Alexander comments as her eyes roam the street.
“Pre-war Darwin was known as the ‘Suez of the South’ where a melting pot of nationalities met—Malay, Chinese, Japanese, Greeks, Italians, Russians… you name it! They were travellers, gamblers, revellers, labourers, drug runners, pearl divers, tradesmen and clerks. The place was a tapestry of colour, drama and romance virtually unknown to the Australia down south and held in awe by those who had heard of the place. It was a complex jigsaw of love, hate, vice, greed, labour, industry and opportunity forever blasted off the map by the Japanese bombing and then erased again by Cyclone Tracey. The end result is what you see now!” he finishes as enthusiasm carries him away.
“You paint a fascinating picture!” Alexander offers again. She has been able to imagine flashes of the atmosphere he described. “You talk as though you would have liked to experience it,” she suggests with empathy.
“It would certainly make a change from the politics of education!” he replies wistfully, hinting at regret at being born in the wrong era. Jed welcomes the arrival of breakfast, cutting short any opportunity to pursue that line of discussion. He prefers his inner feelings well hidden under a layer of professionalism or what some mistake as aloofness. Instead, they settle into a hearty breakfast with healthy appetites and the distraction of the newspapers.
“Much in the local?” Alexander eventually asks between mouthfuls.
“Another crocodile story,” Jed says, scanning page three of the Northern Territory News. “Every time I’m here there’s some story involving crocodiles. If they couldn’t run crocodile stories I reckon the local papers would be up the proverbial creek in a lead-lined, mesh-bottomed canoe!”
“Probably keeps the tourists excited!” she replies as she scans her part of the paper. “Property prices are holding up well here.”
Evidence of an astute financial mind Jed notes. “Mining and defence keeps the demand up I guess. We need to be at the airport before ten to give time for a briefing.”
“What’s happening again?”
“Although the aircraft I lined up is a private one, it’s hired out by Darwin Air. For pilots they don’t know, they need to do a check flight to make sure the pilot is competent and has a current licence. We’ll do a short flight and some basic manoeuvres so they can sign me off as safe.”
“That sounds like fun. I’m coming with you. There’s no way I’m sitting around waiting.”
“Yeah, you’re coming. If I left you on your own you’d be surrounded by men by the time I got back or picked up and flown to some exotic location!”
“I’m sure I could cope!” she responds cheekily, looking up under her wayward fringe.
Jed feels a tingling sensation wash through him as he takes in the look. He gives no hint of his feelings. The wall around those feelings must stay intact.
Jed pays the bill and Alexander drives to the airport, handling the manual Landcruiser with an easy grace that belies its size. The airport is a combined domestic, international and air force facility. Darwin Air is easy to find in the general aviation section of the airport. She parks the big vehicle competently and they walk over to the office area.
Chapter Eight
Striding purposefully up to the counter, Jed introduces himself. “Good morning, I’m Jed Mitchell, booked in for a check flight at
“You paint quite a contrast from this,” Alexander comments as her eyes roam the street.
“Pre-war Darwin was known as the ‘Suez of the South’ where a melting pot of nationalities met—Malay, Chinese, Japanese, Greeks, Italians, Russians… you name it! They were travellers, gamblers, revellers, labourers, drug runners, pearl divers, tradesmen and clerks. The place was a tapestry of colour, drama and romance virtually unknown to the Australia down south and held in awe by those who had heard of the place. It was a complex jigsaw of love, hate, vice, greed, labour, industry and opportunity forever blasted off the map by the Japanese bombing and then erased again by Cyclone Tracey. The end result is what you see now!” he finishes as enthusiasm carries him away.
“You paint a fascinating picture!” Alexander offers again. She has been able to imagine flashes of the atmosphere he described. “You talk as though you would have liked to experience it,” she suggests with empathy.
“It would certainly make a change from the politics of education!” he replies wistfully, hinting at regret at being born in the wrong era. Jed welcomes the arrival of breakfast, cutting short any opportunity to pursue that line of discussion. He prefers his inner feelings well hidden under a layer of professionalism or what some mistake as aloofness. Instead, they settle into a hearty breakfast with healthy appetites and the distraction of the newspapers.
“Much in the local?” Alexander eventually asks between mouthfuls.
“Another crocodile story,” Jed says, scanning page three of the Northern Territory News. “Every time I’m here there’s some story involving crocodiles. If they couldn’t run crocodile stories I reckon the local papers would be up the proverbial creek in a lead-lined, mesh-bottomed canoe!”
“Probably keeps the tourists excited!” she replies as she scans her part of the paper. “Property prices are holding up well here.”
Evidence of an astute financial mind Jed notes. “Mining and defence keeps the demand up I guess. We need to be at the airport before ten to give time for a briefing.”
“What’s happening again?”
“Although the aircraft I lined up is a private one, it’s hired out by Darwin Air. For pilots they don’t know, they need to do a check flight to make sure the pilot is competent and has a current licence. We’ll do a short flight and some basic manoeuvres so they can sign me off as safe.”
“That sounds like fun. I’m coming with you. There’s no way I’m sitting around waiting.”
“Yeah, you’re coming. If I left you on your own you’d be surrounded by men by the time I got back or picked up and flown to some exotic location!”
“I’m sure I could cope!” she responds cheekily, looking up under her wayward fringe.
Jed feels a tingling sensation wash through him as he takes in the look. He gives no hint of his feelings. The wall around those feelings must stay intact.
Jed pays the bill and Alexander drives to the airport, handling the manual Landcruiser with an easy grace that belies its size. The airport is a combined domestic, international and air force facility. Darwin Air is easy to find in the general aviation section of the airport. She parks the big vehicle competently and they walk over to the office area.
Chapter Eight
Striding purposefully up to the counter, Jed introduces himself. “Good morning, I’m Jed Mitchell, booked in for a check flight at
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