On the third day of our Kempsey trip, Gam and Mum and I went to visit my Mum's cousin at South West Rocks. She's 12 years or so older than Mum, so they weren't very close growing up, but they've been in touch more recently. I think it was first because Gaye was living at Newcastle, where my brother lives, and offered Richard and Dad a place to stay when they had to go down for something. I forget. Richard told me a great story of how Gaye, who likes to drink, got chatting in a Newcastle pub with a guy from Kempsey who Richard knew and somehow found out that they had Richard in common. How a 60-year old woman even gets chatting with a 20-something old guy over a beer in a pub I don't know, but Gaye would definitely have to be one of my cooler relatives. Since that time, Mum and Dad and Richard and Gaye have seen a bit more of each other, and Gaye and her husband Ian recently retired to South West Rocks. I hadn't seen her since I was maybe 10 years old (just a guess- maybe younger, maybe older. A long time). She looked immediately familiar to me, so I suppose she can't have changed much.
Ian had made scones. From a packet, he boasted. I didn't even know there was such a thing as packet-mix scones, but they were very good. Apparently the Country Women's Association has gone into the packet-scone-mix business. Still, I don't think I could bring myself to buy packet-mix for something that's so easy to make.
Gam and I mostly sat and listened to the goss on various family members. And it really was gossipy. Maybe everyone else is used to that sort of thing, but I never had much contact with members of the extended family growing up, and given that my Aunt and Uncle are far too staid and boring (read: no failed marriages, no scandals), and even my then-bachelor Uncle Richard was never quite the swinging single (as far as I know), nothing has ever gone beyond the odd bit of sniping about Auntie Anne's cooking (guilty).
It's not really very nice to learn unpleasant things about people, though. I mean, I already knew that Grandma's family was very well off and that Grandma married down, financially speaking (and
only financially speaking). I hadn't known that every sister who married had also used her wealth as a means of wielding power over her husband. Auntie Al bought Bill a pharmacy. Auntie Mew bought Doug a newsagency. And none of them ever let their husband forget it, even if they made successes of the business! That is almost admirable in a way, given the way things were for women at the time, but I just can't imagine that being a foundation for a happy relationship, always trying to wield power over one's partner through financial superiority.
But certainly Grandma and Auntie Al had no business sense of their own. When we sat and ate lunch after visiting Gaye, Mum pointed out a building on a block of land from where we were sitting and said "Grandma and Auntie Al used to own that". I asked why Auntie Mew hadn't owned any places at the 'Rocks, or a flat at the block of units Grandma, Auntie Al and Auntie Clarrie used to own. Mum said she hadn't wanted to be in business with her sisters, probably because she was savvy enough to see that they were going to make a hash of it (and did).
We ate fish and chips out on the big brown rock in the middle of the creek.
Even Auntie Mew had her shortcomings, however. She was apparently very ambitious for her kids to do well and put a lot of pressure on them. One of her sons changed his name and now lives a self-sustaining hippy existence in Cairns with his wife, using compost toilets and growing their own food. Another one developed a drug and alcohol problem, married under pressure from his parents just because he'd slept with the girl, once disappeared for 5 years, reappeared, and later committed suicide by jumping off the balcony of Auntie Mew's apartment in Sydney. Apparently she went to North Queensland at one point and nursed him while he came off drugs. There was some issue with her daughter's first marriage (the second one turned out fine), but in what regard that was a failure I'm not sure. Still, it's hard to change my opinion of Auntie Mew as being on of the few family members on that side who have their head screwed on properly, from the impression I got of her when I met her. See what I mean by gossipy, though? It almost sounds like a soap opera.
The gossip got more interesting when Gaye revealed that one of her sons, who Mum told me ages ago is a corporate lawyer-turned-multi-multimillionaire hotel buyer and corporate something-or-other, was half or quarter owner of the company that is responsible for those dreadful "
WANT LONGER LASTING SEX?" billboards that Gam and I have whinged about from time to time. I refrained from saying anything rude about the horrid billboards (I'm no prude, they're just visually offensive), and Gaye related a funny story of how the billboards had upset people in New Zealand so the company just changed 'sex' to 'six' on the billboards (y'know, because that's how the kiwis pronounce it and everything). Still, having a son who buys hotels for a living can't be all bad- Gaye told us that she and Ian got to stay for free in Cairns and were treated like royalty by the staff... to the point where they phoned their son and asked if he could get them another couple of nights free. Which he duly did. Hmmm. Free holidays in Cairns... Maybe now should be the point where I start regretting that I wasn't closer to my extended family when growing up...
After picking us some lovely fresh silverbeet from their front garden, Gaye and Ian waved us off and we drove to Horsehoe Bay to buy some fish and chips for lunch. We sat on a nice broad rock in a creek that Gam and I sat on to eat fish and chips the first time I ever took him to the 'Rocks. There were way too many chips for the three of us, and no seagulls to feed them too, but it was a lovely spot for lunch. South West Rocks is at its best when there are no tourists around. We watched a cormorant chasing fish and then drying itself out on its very own (poo covered) rock.
When we'd just about finished lunch, Dad showed up on his Harley. I can't help thinking 'mid-life crisis!' every time I hear the word 'Harley'. Dad reckons it is a fairly crap bike to drive, and seems to even perhaps show a little regret for ever buying it- I think the advantage for him is that the foot pegs are in a better position for his dodgy leg than they are on the BMW. Mum had bought her motorbike boots and stuff in case she went back on the bike with Dad, but we decided that she would come with us on the drive to Trial Bay Gaol. Truthfully, I don't like the idea of Mum being on the bike. She's so little and fragile, and it takes so little for someone on a motorbike to be killed, or badly injured. I feel rather protective of Mum.
The rockpools in question were on the opposite side of the rock wall.When we got to the Gaol we parked around the side near some rocks. I think the main reason we went there was because I mentioned I wanted to see a rockpool. I love rockpools, and I have some great memories of poking around in them as a kid, but the ones I remember have largely disappeared. Dad remembered that there are some good ones among the rocks at the side of the Gaol. Unfortunately the tide was too high, but we climbed around on the rocks, saw some more whales and spotted a turtle. It's a great spot for seeing turtles and dolphins, that spot, but there were no dolphins this time.
No whales in the photo, but they were appearing at the point pretty much smack-bang in the middle. The view is across the mouth of Trial Bay.
Honestly I would have preferred to just go with Gam, and eat lunch on top of the rocks there, because Dad was a real pain, clambering around on the rocks close to where the waves were breaking. Doing that with a dodgy leg and holding a large camera in one hand is neither safe nor sensible, and we all subsequently spent a good part of the time worrying about Dad.
Picturing having to jump into the turbulent waters near those rocks is no fun at the best of times, let alone having to plan a rescue in my head and wonder how quickly I could remove my boots and whether my jeans and multiple layers of jumpers would weigh me down. I probably wouldn't have worried quite so much if he hadn't been carting the camera around, but part of me gets annoyed because it's exactly the sort of behaviour Dad would have told my brother and I off for when we were kids.
Gam and Dad walking around on the rocks.Thankfully everyone lived. We stopped off at the fish shop on the way home, opposite the
house I fantasised about owning as a kid- to my delight I saw a 'holiday rental' sign on the lawn. I might never be able to afford to own it, but at least we can stay there for a week one Summer! Just imagine the barbeques you could have on that lawn...
I forget what kind of fish we bought- local flathead I think. Gam made a fantastic spicey fish stew for dinner that we ate with the olive and thyme bread we brought down from Brisbane. As usual, he knocked everyone's socks off. My Mum, not a reknowned seafood lover, freaked out at the very idea of fish stew, but was a solid convert once dinner had been served! Grandma loved it too, convinced that she had somehow telepathically transmitted the idea of buying fish to us on our way home.
And that was it. We were up at some ungodly hour the next morning, packing Feifei and Keith Richards and the siamese fish into the car. The trip home was fairly uneventful apart from some idiot truck drivers crashing and killing each other at Broadwater, meaning we had to take a fairly pleasant detour through Lismore and Bangalow, giving us some ideas of places to visit on our next trip.
