ABPA - Australian Bush Poets Association

Oooh just noticed we have a new member...could it be? Could it be??? Be still my heart...urbancountry has just joined our throng....now if his /hers location is Caboolture Via USA I am just going to be over the Moon.

Welcome to the group and do tell us more about yourself if you feel inclined. Great to have you here. Look forward to having some more talks with you.

Cheers

Maureen

Well don't keep us in suspenders. Who?

Yes, bid a warm welcome to Colleen, Events Officer for the upcoming Caboolture Urban country Music Festival - (Including bush Poet's Brekkie and Childrens Comp) ...

it's a girl

Hi Colleen - do you know Keith Urban???


Oh well never mind - we are still happy to have you with us with all your talents.

Cheers

Maureen

Caboolture......sounds like an Afghan arts festival ..stop it stop it

We went to Caboolture. I think.

Have not even been here a week Dave and you are lost already ???

Hope you have not been hitting the fourex super.





Bob

'Im pleased that we have a popular new member from Queensland.

Best wishes

I went to Queensland once.

Got on a plane and landed at a place called Maroochydore or something like that.

After a couple of days I got back in the plane to come home; it was about 100%F. The Captain offloaded us on the airstrip and told us the plane was overloaded.

Apparently, Marochy (whatever its name is) airfield is on a mesa and if the air is too thin the plane cant take off and falls over a gigantic cliff and everybody is killed.

The Captain said 'All the luggage has to be offloaded and sent down later on a following plane.'

Hmm... There we were about thirty passengers grim faced nodding our heads in agreement.

Fair Dinkum! No one likes their life snuffed out in the tropics in a place called Maroochy whatever.

A Towmotor arrived with two luggage trailers in tow. A cheerful airport crew filled up the trailers with luggage and departed.

The Captain walked up to the front double tryred nose landing gear and kicked it. He then got down on his his knees and peered at the slight bulge at the bottom of the tyres. Next he (saying nothing) walked around studying the wing landing gear (saying nothing).

Then he walked around to the mobile boarding steps, and with a grin said, ' All passenges please board the plane. Except you sir.' pointing to a beach ball figured man. 'How much do yo weigh?' The man said. 'about 26 stone.' The captain cocked his head on then said.
'Are you sure? It not 27 stone?'
'No' said the short fat man. 'It's 26 stone.'
The Captain starred at the man for about 30 seconds, then walking to the base of the boarding steps said. 'Everyone on board...'
No one moved.
No one even looked like taking a step towards the plane.
The Captain without ado walked up the steps and disappeared inside the plane.
A minute later he returned and said. ' I've just got a weather report the temperature is 98% and rising, we must take off now."
One by one (like browns cows we reboarded the plane).
Returned to our seats (trancelike) buckled-up and waited.
My seat was directly opposite the port engine.
The piped music was playing 'Happy days are here again.'
With a black puff of smoke the Fokkers engine propellers, slowly at first, gave a throaty roar. Then increased to a thundrerous head spliting crescendo.
You could hear the squeaking strain of the wing wheel brakes on straining tyres.
Wroom,Wroom,wrooom, the engines roared.
passengers undid seatbelts and made for the one toilet. The hostess made no move torestrict movement.
Brakes released. The small aircraft shot forward as if released by a catapault.
The whole damn aircraft was shuddering so much that my teeth were chattering. THe underrcarriage was bouncing...thump,thump...airborne.Then down again...bounce, bounce, bounce.
The air was too thin. Shit, the wings couldn't get any lift.
The scrub on both sides of the airfield a dusty blue.
Some passengers were screaming others had tears in their eyes.
Yeah, as for me, I was scared...damned scared.
Squinting down through the corner of my window I could see a hedge like formation of gum trees at the perimeter of the airfield another 10 seconds and the plane load of passengers would be ploughing through the trees breaking-up and hurtling into the canyon a fiery coffin of death.

Whrummm, Whrummm, outside my windows the engine spurtinging orange flame, thick black kerosene smoke streaming over the graceful wing, the tabletray over my lap vibrating in tune the strained structure of the aircraft.
The trees rushed to meet me.
Then a sharp tilt of the nose: we were airborne.
THe pilot throttled back.
The engines voices sang a happy tune and I was on my way back to Sydney.


Ive never been back.

I never want to go back to Maroochy... whatever its name is again.

John

John it is Maroochydore and it is a small perfectly serviceable aerodrome on the Queensland coast north of Mooloolaba and Coolum near Marcoola Beach and now referred to as the Sunshine Coast Airport -bordered by the scrub on one side and the (used to be) main highway on the other - I don't recollect any tall towering cliffs in the vicinity at all, were you confused by the tall buildings all though back then I remember there was only one - the land all around there is perfectly flat coastal land and have never heard of the air being too thin for lift off. Were you smoking waccy baccy??? Are you sure the Fokker flyer wasn't funning around ???? This would make a great yarn in a short story contest

You are doing my head in - don't know whether you are serious or not.

Dave if you have been through Caboolture (or most likely passed the outskirts of it on the Bruce Highway) you are in Keith Urban country - you can't get lost Mate you are heading north it is a straight road, just follow your nose.

Cheers

Maureen

Ah John what a great yarn. I assume you made this up as it could never happen in Queensland ( You betcha it could ) !!!! I have never laughed so much you just made my day.


Those old Fokkers were known for the shudder and then the swift lift off.



Great stuff

Bob