Published: 5 Mar 2018

It was to be a holiday, the telegraph message had come up from Brisbane during the previous morning and it was declared that all should celebrate the Queen’s birthday anniversary. The twenty-fourth of May and the grand old lady had turned eighty, yet not one person above an imaginary line called the Tropic of Capricorn, drawn across the width of her colony of Queensland named in her honour, had ever laid eyes on their monarch. It was true every school, Church of England and public building dutifully displayed a portrait of the queen but it was a youthful queen, dressed in colourful royal regalia, wearing a beautiful crown of gold, diamonds and precious stones, not a short rotund woman dress in black, who hadn’t smiled for a full generation.

It was also the day when a trading ship, The Swordfish, was to visit McBride’s Point. It had left Brisbane some days earlier, coming from the Pacific Islands and had a two fold reason for the visit. Firstly it would be delivering passengers and goods to the town; secondly its master had been instructed to bargain a good price with a certain Jock McBride for its purchase.

The Swordfish was a relatively new vessel, launched in Melbourne only two years previously and believed to be most stylish and in shipping circles considered to be beautiful, containing many new innovations as outlined by the parent company on Clyde Side.

Word has spread around McBride’s Point of its arrival after a telegraph message was sent from Brisbane addressed to Jock McBride to expect it.

Firstly Molly O’Donnell the operator at the town’s newly installed telegraph station had told her friend Meg Turner of the message’s contents, then like a bushfire it was around the town and the district, even before the message had been delivered to the old man himself.

It was expected the Swordfish’s arrival would be mid-morning but past noon there was still not sight of a sail on the horizon. A small crowd, including its potential buyer, had gathered at the dock for advantage as the ship sailed by the point and into the bay but concern was developing, so much so Molly O’Donnell sent a message to Brisbane enquiring of its departure, discovering it had definitely departed and had been seen in the vicinity of Townsville early on the previous day and the weather being fine, there wasn’t any reason to doubt the ship’s arrival.

As the afternoon drew on, most went about their entertainment designed for celebrating the queen’s birthday, with field sports, carnival rides and for humour a greasy pig chase along the main street. There was food and plenty for all. Sausage sizzles to toffee apples for the children, as well as apple dunking, egg and spoon and three legged races,

For extra entertainment a horse racing meeting was held at the grounds beyond the cemetery and to make the racing more interesting, some of the jockeys were young fellows from the native camp. Most of whom had never been on a horse before, giving much joy to the crowd whenever one of the lads fell from his mount, to land with a thud into the dust but when a number of the natives proved to be better riders than their white instructors, much of the shine was taken from the amusement.

Lachlan brought Stephen along in the buggy, also offering to bring his mother but Martha declined, she did not wish to see her husband in town in fear he would be with his fancy woman, or worse abuse her for coming into town unescorted by him. As for Daniel, he didn’t need any invitation and was seated within the buggy even before it had been harnessed. It was only William who lacked interest in frivolous entertainment, instructing he had too much work to do but did allow Cameron the day to celebrate.

Late in the afternoon a sail had been sighted around the headland and instead of heading into port the Swordfish hove to some distance from shore while flying a yellow flag from the top mast.

“Why doesn’t it come in?” Lachlan asked of Linton Curtis the government harbour master, while standing close to his father at the front of the small gathering crowd.

“See the yellow flag young fellow.”

“I can see a flag but it doesn’t look all that yellow.”

“Believe me it is and that means there is probably cholera or typhoid on board.”

Cholera the crowd murmured as the excitement dissipated and the self content smug went from McBride’s face.

Moments later a small boat left the ship and came within calling distance of the wharf declining to approach further.

“Hoy there,” Linton Curtis call as the boat paused. A man stood at the bow and answered.

“I’m Captain Jacob Turner of the Swordfish, I won’t come any closer as we have typhoid on board and two have already succumbed to its pestilence.”

“Do you need a doctor to come aboard?” Curtis called.

“No we have a doctor amongst the passengers, but we may need a place to bury our dead and maybe land away from town to treat the sick.” Again a murmur lifted from the crown, while unconsciously some took a step or two back away from the jetty’s edge.

“How many are on board?” Curtis enquired.

“Nine crew and eleven passengers, unfortunately now nine passengers, mostly bound for Cairns, we have enough supplies, only need a place to land away from town.”

It was decided the captain could use the headland as it had a clear beach, a grassy backdrop and was cut off from the town by mangroves. Once it was agreed Captain Turner returned to his ship and commenced to transfer the sick to the headland, while many watched in fear from the dock lest one from the ship came to town. As for McBride, he remained somewhat stunned by this misfortune, believing he had found his perfect replacement for the Capricorn and now fate had once again snatched away the chance.

“What now father?” Lachlan asked as the old man walked away from the dock in the direction of the hotel bar. Lachlan followed.

“Don’t rightly know, I guess the ship will have to remain away from town until the typhoid runs its course then scrubbed down and cleared of all infected substance.”

“How long will that take?”

“Another week maybe two, one never knows with typhoid,” once spoken the old man appeared to become withdrawn and oblivious to his son’s presence, as for his plan to purchase the Swordfish, doing so may need to wait, being time he could ill afford.

At the hotel McBride with William Brown and Harry Larkin, who he had long forgiven for his daughter’s failure to marry his son and their failed business deal, retired to the back room specially reserved for town meetings or when required by McBride to do his scheming.

As the three entered McBride caught sight of Clarence Reynolds, inviting him to join with them. Once inside he took Reynolds aside. “Clarence, have you heard any more on my standing as the new local representative?” He quietly asked being sure the others were out of hearing while expecting a positive conclusion.

“I have jock,”

“And what was the outcome?”

“I have been canvassing most of the district but I’m sorry to say I can’t find enough interested in placing you name forward. Most wish to put James Tuff’s name forward.”

“Tuff!” McBride exclaimed loudly, bring the others to turn. McBride lowered his voice, “he’s a pious fool and will turn the district into milk sop if he is elected.”

“I’m sorry Jock, I know it was my idea but it seems folk aren’t that interested, best I try again once federation has been approved.”

“Don’t they know this town owes me, if it wasn’t for my endeavour and money there wouldn’t be a town?”

“I guess they do Jock but there are a lot of newly arrived folk who don’t seem to appreciate the fact or even know who you are. I suggest you hold a few meetings and shake some hands. ”

Reynolds hand rose from clicking coins in his pocket in a classic display of what else can I do, as McBride guided him towards joining the others with a game of cards and a bottle of his best malt whisky. It was most obvious the man was most unhappy as he looked upon their faces in wonder if they had supported him or not.

“We’ll talk more at a later date.” McBride said and poured the drinks.

“That we will Jock.”

Two weeks past and still the infected vessel remained at anchor at the point. By all appearances the crew and passengers of the Swordfish were over the epidemic, with the further loss of two from the crew and a young boy from amongst the travellers, all buried at the point.

The town’s doctor, Brice Henning had on a number of occasions visited, as the doctor travelling with the ship was low and at one point not expected to survive. Henning became a welcome relief as he had administered to such epidemics previously, he also agreed after the third week the surviving passengers could safely come into town but the ship was placed of limits to all but a number of its crew. It was then McBride became agitated and called on his cronies to meet once more, this time meeting at the Criterion Hotel as because of past experience with Larkin and a further disagreement with the man, he didn’t wish to meet at the man’s McBride’s Point hotel.

McBride cast his eyes across his gathered group. There were four in all and like minded, most eager to have the Swordfish brought to dock. As for its purchase, it was still necessary to inspect its holds for suitability for their use, also survey its durability and workmanship.

McBride had received a copy of the ship’s plans by coach mail and was content with what he saw but plans can be altered, or not adhered to, so the sooner the ship was docked the sooner the deal could be struck. Also at the meeting was the ship’s captain, Jacob Turner.

“In due respect Mr. McBride the ship will need to be cleansed from bow to aft before it is allowed to dock.” Turner protested as the group demanded its docking.

“How long will that take?” McBride demanded, receiving much support from his group.

“As long as it takes,” The captain sternly answered.

“Not good enough, I will need to have it docked within two days or the deal is off.” The old man complained to the sound of hear, hear from his group.

“If you do so Mr. McBride you may place your community at risk, Typhoid is at this very moment epidemic in some of the southern towns and cities.”

“Doctor Henning told me the epidemic was over, that is why he allowed the passengers freedom of the town.” McBride admitted.

“True but the ship still has the same water supply and Typhoid could be in the bedding or within the food, all that will be needed to be removed and the timbers scrubbed, if not you may infect anyone who chances to board the Swordfish. Believe me Mr. McBride I have see it happen in the past.”

McBride was not convinced and demanded the ship be docked and by the following morning. He knew a little about typhoid and believed the problem was only with the passengers and crew and not the physical state of the vessel and with such scant knowledge demanded the ship be docked as he had suggested.

“Very well Mr. McBride but be it on you head if there is a further outbreak amongst the good citizens of this community.” With his final warning Captain Turner departed to do the old man’s bidding.

During the afternoon the plan to dock the vessel became known, with a crowd of enraged citizens gathering around the door of the Criterion Hotel, demanding McBride speak with them and discredit the docking of the ship. Although called upon McBride refused to meet with the concerned gathering, thus sending all towards the dock to be assured the plan had not already been instigated. The ship still lay at anchor at the point but the mob remained unrepentant in their demand and designed a roster to keep watch during the night unless it was brought in under the cover of darkness.

Unknown to McBride, his group or Captain Turner there had been another meeting within the town that night and a decision made. During the early hours of the following morning, a number of likeminded folk rowed the short distance to the ship and after cutting the anchor ropes, set fire to the vessel. By the time they had returned to shore the Swordfish was adrift and well alight, the night’s sky alive with embers and the shrieking of burning timbers, taking no time at all bring its burning sails, yard arms and spars booms crashing onto the deck, soon after the ship was alight from stern to bowsprit.

Part of the ships cargo happened to be barrels of brandy and a number holding caulking tar, so within a short time she was beyond saving, while the tar spread as a burning carpet all about, thus taking with it any chance of causing a relapse of the epidemic.

While the ship burnt an even larger crowed came to be entertained by the fire and with each loud crackle, explosion of a brandy barrel they all gave a gratuitous cheer and as it was believed there was nothing more to consume and the fire dulled there was a large explosion as the hull broke in half and quickly sank, leaving the sea all around black and strewn with wreckage.

“What was that?” A man standing close to Captain Turner gasped.

“That my friend was ten cases of dynamite for the Chillagoe mines all exploding at the same time.” The captain gave a sigh and left the crowd to their entertainment.

As the new day was born out of the eastern horizon, there wasn’t a ship or crowd to morn its passing. The water within the bay hardly rippled but was strewn from one shore line to the other with wreckage and the only part of the ship recognizable was the ship’s boat, scorched but afloat, stranded within the mangroves while bobbing about within a capture of mangrove roots.

Captain Turner came early to the dock, not to be assured of his charge’s destruction but to register the fact and his innocents with the harbour master. For some time he stood gazing across the wreckage as much now gathered around the dock’s pylons, eventually he simply shook his head and went to the telegraph office to report the situation to the owners.

By mid morning another meeting was held at the Criterion, with McBride blaming the Swordfish’s captain for the fire, or at least supplying information to the mob. The old man was in rage, once again he had been negated and by the very people he believed owed him for their town’s existence. “Damn you all!” he shouted at the small group going about their daily business, as he mounted his horse and spurred it into gallop along the dusty road out of town towards his farm.

It was some time before McBride returned to town but when he did so he felt he was loosing the influence he controlled over the district. The town had outgrown him and like a young man who gained independence from his family, the town was now strong enough to disregard its founder.

As usual it was Daniel who came with the news. He had heard it from William who heard from the very lips of McBride as he stormed up the stairs on his return the previous afternoon.

“So what have you heard?” Lachlan demanded as Daniel played his usual game of I know something and you will need to guess what it may be.

“Any coffee?” Daniel asked.

“It’s on the stove, you can get it yourself.”

“How about some of that cake you had the other day?”

“Stephen and I finished it, now what’s your news?”

“Hang on until I pour my coffee.” Daniel slowly filled his pannikin, smiling broadly while delaying his news for as long as he possibly could.

“You are starting to annoy me Daniel.” Lachlan’s voice lowered as he spoke.

“Yes come on Daniel out with it.” Stephen backed Lachlan’s demand.

“Father will not be buying the ship.” Daniel commenced to laugh.

“Why not and what is so funny?” Lachlan grew tired of his brother’s game.

“It blew up the night before last,” Daniel’s statement was followed by the gatling-gun humour he often delivered and at end made a loud whooshing sound pertaining to being that of an explosion.

“What do you mean, it blew up?” Lachlan asked.

“It’s gone, some drongo set fire to it and there was a stack of dynamite on board and it blew up.”

“I thought I heard an explosion, I thought it was thunder.” Lachlan admitted.

“Yea sure thing thunder from a cloudless sky,” Daniel quipped.

“Well I was in bed at the time.” Lachlan issued in his defence.

“Also according to the story I heard from William there isn’t a length of timber longer than you arm.”

“Struth, I bet father is in a mood.”

“Mood, William said he mounted the steps, slammed the door and went directly to his rooms and hasn’t been seen since.”

“I must say he isn’t having everything his own way these days.” Lachlan surmised.

“That’s not all, William heard from town that even some of the old man’s associates have acted against him.” Daniel added as if it were a blade knife he had to twist between the shoulders of their father.

“In what way?” Lachlan enquired.

“Remember I said father wanted to stand for election to the new federal government?”

“I do…”

“William said most of his associates appear reluctant to back him, being a pity as if he were to win a seat, he would be gone from here for most of the year.”

“You’re enjoying all this – aren’t you?” Lachlan suggested.

“Why – aren’t you?”

“A little – I guess it is what is called karma, what goes around comes around.” Both turned towards Stephen Henderson.

“Don’t ask me, I’m not part of this,” but like his friends he couldn’t help but smile.

“You know Daniel, we should be a little more respectful, after all he is our father and we are only sinking to his level.”

“You can be as respectful as you wish brother, but I’ll only be so when he shows me a little.” Daniel declared most seriously.

With the morning McBride readied himself for town as if nothing untoward had happened. He even had a slight smile on his lips, although knowing their father well, the boys would have considered it more a sneer, as displayed when he was about to pay havoc on his family.

“Polly I’ll have breakfast on the front verandah.” He ordered while marching through the kitchen towards the front.

“Yes Mister McBride, breakfast ready Polly bring it right out.” The girl quickly acknowledged.

“No burnt toast this time mind you, the last was as black as you ugly face,” the man grumbled.

There was a skip in McBride’s gait as he reached the verandah and lightly placed himself at the small meals table set to one end. Polly arrived with breakfast and gently placed it down before the man. “Cutlery Polly you don’t expect me to eat with my fingers like you blacks, do you?”

“Sorry boss, I get cuttrey now and your coffee.”

“Cutlery you stupid girl, you’ve lived within my charity long enough to speak proper.”

“Sorry Mister McBride.” Polly quickly returned with the cutlery and coffee and deciding all was correct quickly disappeared back to the kitchen away from further rebuke.

With breakfast at an end McBride relaxed back into his chair, gazing blankly across the ripening cane. If one were to pass by or visit at that moment they may believe he was at peace with himself and his world but that was far from the truth, he was in turmoil and was planning how to take revenge on those who were plotting against his election chances. His problem being he had absolutely no idea who was for or against his nomination.

“It has to be Larkin,” he growled loudly as Cameron approached the foot of the stairs.

“Hey Cameron where’s William?” McBride called and moved to the verandah rail.

“I don’t know I was looking for him father.” Cameron answered, nervously departing company with his father as quickly as he could.

“Come back here,” McBride demanded.

“Yes father?” Cameron paused without approaching closer.

“What are you supposed to be doing today?”

“I’m not sure father; that is why I’m looking for William.”

“Then get on with it, time is money.”

Cameron quickly paced his way around the corner of the house and spotting William in the tools shed made speed to be with his brother.

McBride returned to his seat and his thinking. How could he take revenge and on who, Larkin was his first choice but the man was somewhat independent of his control. Since the agreement made with the failed marriage between Elizabeth and Lachlan went sour and the loss of the latest ship, even before they had purchased it, he didn’t have much leverage over the man.

“It has to be Larkin, who else could it be?” McBride growled and went to his private rooms, returning soon after with a bottle of scotch. Pouring a draft he once again became seated.

“It has to be Larkin.” Again he growled and swallowed his drink in one gulp. He poured a second, it disappeared as quickly. He felt dizzy and a burning in his chest but it soon passed so he poured a third but took his time with it.

“Where are those boys?” He spoke loudly, not seeing either Daniel or Lachlan at work that morning. He paced the verandah and spied William and Cameron leaving the tool shed towards the west field. From the far end of the verandah he could see William’s cottage, with Lucy handing out her washing. He could also see Lachlan’s cottage but not the boys.

“She’s a fine looking woman.” He spoke of Lucy and imagined what it would be like to bed her. Lucy finished with her washing and went inside.

“The Henderson kid.” McBride spoke without forming a thought about the lad, instead he thought of the coming auction and what he would do with the land. After finishing his third drink the man pocketed the bottle and went to the stables to saddle and leave for town.

Gary really wants to know if you are reading his story. You may let him know, by dropping an email to him: Gary dot Conder at CastleRoland dot Net.

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