With the arrival at the creek of the old Sergeant of the coppers and some of his crew we were informed our canoe was in fact a coffin awaiting an elderly aborigine chap who was up the hospital awaiting despatch, we were trotted off to the jail house where we had our finger prints taken (a piece of blotting paper and a blue stamp pad) then we were locked in a cell, after about two hours we were released in time to be home by five o’clock, which in those days was the normal time to cease all daytime activities and return home, we were released with a warning that the Sergeant would proceed to the Pub and tell our fathers. (I don’t think he ever did) I did not see my Dad for more that two weeks as each time he was in the house I was somewhere else.
I think the blotting paper with our finger smudges on would have gone in the bin amidst much laughter by the boys in blue.
Sixty years on and I still have a healthy respect for our boys in Blue, and can recognise the difference between a coffin and a canoe.
TTFN
caught dead 
to right what a stiff sentance 
