LOST!

Saturday Aug 31^st 1929:

Lost and what a wonderful feeling it is, to be on the road and not know where you are or how to get to where you intended when you started out, and have to be there by a certain time to marry a couple; with the sun rapidly sinking in the west and the petrol in the petrol tank rapidly diminishing. However we were not lost in the morning while in Camooweal, where Cec, Glen Reilly and I had a cup of tea at 6.30 am and after seeing the plane off at 7 am, left in good spirits, and with great hopes of being in Wandangie for lunch, thus allaying the nervous fears of the, naturally I suppose, excited and fearful bride and bridegroom. The day was nothing short (as it commenced) of all that could be desired, the road was perfect and the car wanted to go, so that the first 50 miles to Barclay station homestead were soon covered. We stopped here for only a few moments and declined a cup of tea that we might not make the time of arrival at Wandangie any later than possible. From Barclay there are two roads to the ‘dangi’, the straightforward and the road via Lake Nash. Previously I had been only on the Lake Nash road but as it is 20 miles further, ansd on the misunderstanding that the straight road was the only road that way, we decided to cut out the extra 20 miles. Again quite hopefully we bowled along leaving mile after mile behind and were beginning to smell the odour of lunch at Wandangie hotel when a doubt began to creep into our minds.

“Are we on the right road?”

“We must be as there is only one road this way and the road we are on is well used one.”

“Why there are the tracks of the car that came down last night.”

So on we went, but the doubt remained. Then we became doubtful about our direction, we were traveling east and Wandangi was south, but then as if to encourage us further into difficulty the road turned and went in a southerly direction. We decided then that we could go the distance we knew Headingly station to be from Camooweal, which on the straight road was the last and only homestead between Barclay and the ‘dangi’. When this distance was traveled and no homestead we then knew that we were on the wrong road, but what road was it. We had never heard of another road being in these parts. We took out our map but it was no help to us. On noticing numbers of survey pegs and that where the road crossed fences the wires were only cut and left, we knew it to be a new road, but where was it going to. Would it take us to Wandangi and miss Headingly station. We will try. We will keep on until the 160 miles, the distance from Camooweal to Wandangi has been traveled and see where we are then. By this time a great uneasiness was filling my mind that the road we were on although going south was bearing more to the east than we were realizing and every road that crossed ours, going in west we stopped and noted but not one bore traces of having been used for some long time. So we kept on until we ascertained that the road we were on would never take us to our destination. We turned back and then followed in south west a road, which followed along a number of bores and along which a telephone line ran. This we followed for 25 miles and then stopped. “We are going south west, and Wandangi is not in sight so we must be below it, as we could not have got more than 30 miles east”, so back along the road we went. “Oh how fallible is the human mind.” By this time the strain was beginning to tell. The sun was sinking, and the wedding was at 7 and could not be gone on with after 8. The atmosphere became tense, words spoken were few and far between. The gates through which we had to pass, which were numerous, were the wire gates, difficult to handle and known as ‘Chinaman’s Gates’. These, which Cec had to manipulate, began to tell on him and it was not safe to say anything to him. At one gate a piece of wire got tangled around the universal on the driving rod. Not time was to be lost, so underneath in dirt and grease and by brute force it was wrenched off. Speed now was essential, 35 to 40 over all conditions of roads, tracks, anthills and any obstructions that there was no possibility to go around with safety at the speed. Back along the road we had come earlier in the day and then in west along another unused road. At last, “What is that? A house. Is anyone at home?” We soon found out. Noone but there is a telephone there. We burglar the place and frantically use the phone. “Hurrah”. Someone answers. “ We are lost. Can you tell us where we are?” is my first question, much to the silent mirth of the other two in the room. Then the truth of our whereabouts is revealed to us. We are 50 miles north-east of Wandangi. The road on which we traveled 25 miles south west, just previously, was taking us right there. When we turned back we were only 30 miles from our destination. Now we realized that our sense of direction had been out and the road we had followed first had taken us more to the east than we imagined and so the ‘dangi’ was from us south west instead of as we were thinking north west. Time now was everything and the chap, who was speaking from Oban station advised us to go there first. It seemed wrong as Oban was east and Wandangi south west but we went and so had to do an extra 20 miles. We got our direction and road from there though and at 10 to 6 started on our last 60 miles. The questions now in our minds were, What are they thinking and saying at the wedding party? We left word at Oban for them to ring Wandangi and el the folk where we were. Will we get there in time? Will the bus fail at the last? Twice she gave us heart failure by nearly stopping through a blockage in the petrol pipe and she would not travel as fast as I wanted. 40 miles an hour was the best I could get out of her. Had I been able to get 70 I would have got it. Was it providential that 40 was the limit? It was now a real race against time. Fortunately for the first and greater part of the 60 miles the road was good and we made good time. Then darkness overtook us and ‘woe was us’ the lights failed. No stopping though and the spotlight was switched on. “Are we on the road or off?” kept us all from going to sleep. The road led us into scrub and rocky country but on we went, over rocks, round curves, dodging trees and out into open country again. Once to break the tense silence I offered some foolish remark by was sharply and quickly rebuffed by Cecil. Glen sat in the middle and said nothing but thought a lot as she afterwards told us. At last the lights of Wandangi gave us fresh life and amid an excited and alarmed crowd we pulled up at the hotel. No time for apologies. The assurance that the wedding would be gone on with quelled all fears and everyone dashed to get ready. The 60 miles was done in 2 hours. At 10 to 8 we arrived there and dashing into a room changed and shaved etc in 10 minutes and then down to the hall where the anxious couple were united in the bonds of holy matrimony. The correct time for this place is Adelaide time so that when we arrived it was really only 20 past 7 and the ceremony was well over before 8. When all was concluded and the signing finished we had time to think and remembered that we had had nothing sonce 6.30 in the morning so went to the hotel and had a cup of tea but had nothing substantial until midnight when the wedding supper was put on. We all then thoroughly enjoyed ourselves. Between the ceremony and supper, dancing was indulged in, during which time I recounted my experiences to various ones. I received very little condemnation though after arrival and refrained from asking what had been said prior to that. The whole evening passed off very enjoyably and of course at the supper, toasts were the main concern of everyone. The contracting parties and guests returned good for evil by drinking the health of the ‘parson’. We soon retired after supper and in visions and dreams the whole day was gone through again. The humor of it all can now be seen and many a laugh the three of us have had, b ut there still rankles with me the fact that of having been lost and losing my sense of direction, especially when now I can see how foolish were some of the mistakes that were made. We partly excused ourselves though, by the fact that the road we got on to is a new road, just put through to Dajarra and all the carting from the head of the railway line now comes along this road and it is more pronounced than any other and we did not know anything about it. We should though have enquired and being the driver I am the one who is to blame. It is a lesson though and who knows but what it may save us from more serious blunders in the future.