Published: 18 May 2026

A second bout of Camping;

Finding Michael Brown’s marked camping site at Palm Cove was easy for Grady as it had been his father’s favourite place for holidaying before his father bought the beach house further down the coast at Flying Fish Point. So with Biff driving his recently repaired utility and Grady using his memory without referring to Brownie’s so called orienteering map they were the first to arrive with at least an hour of Friday’s sunlight in reserve.

Quickly Biff parks the utility in what could be considered the most favoured spot followed by a leisurely stroll to understand the layout of the camping site. Although the city is little more than twenty miles to the south the built up arrear is quickly stretching along the northern highway in pockets of civilization and soon the seclusion of spots like Palm Cove or Yorkeys Knob would be lost forever.

For now golden sands stretch endlessly north and south with tropical rain forest down to the waterline where if one happens to be careless they may stray into the waiting jaws of a twenty foot crocodile that even with the approaching civilization patrol the beaches, also the muddy esplanade of the city.

Off shore is Double Island with it coral reef and as Grady well remembers David would motor his tinnie for a spot of coral trout fishing along the reef, until one day the outboard motor failed and they drifted for a hour or more before a passing boat gave them a tow back to shore all the while needing to continuously bail water from a slow leak. Thereafter Karen put a stop on David taking the boys out to sea.

Her words being you can drown yourself David but not my boys.

In retrospect that should have been a warning of things to come.

Oddly Karen’s warning must have been noted, as David dumped the leaky tinnie soon after.

Grady is standing with the surf frothing about his bare ankles, his hands akimbo while staring at Double Island, so named as from the shore its two small hillocks appeared to display two islands and not one.

Biff comes from behind and wraps his arms around Grady, pinning his arms to his side.

Grady can feel Biff’s moist breath on the back of his neck giving him a warm tingling sensation.

“What are you thinking?” Biff softly asks.

Grady allows the cuddle to continue until it passes the showing of friendly affection to something else.

Grady slips from the embrace.

“I was remembering times when dad would take us fishing in his little tin boat with a dodgy outboard motor and slow leak, with us boys having to occasionally dip out the water in fear of sinking. You can’t see from here but to the south side of Double Island there is a reef and good fishing and as I recall, the island had a resident crocodile that would occasionally swim past our boat eyeing us as if we were canned meat ready for its meal.”

“How close would the croc approach?”

“Once so close I reached out of the tinnie and ran my hand along its back.”

“Brave little boy,” Biff laughs.

“I would say more like silly little bugger; I will admit they can move when they want to. It shot off through the water as if it had an outboard motor up its arse.”

“I thought you didn’t like fishing?”

“It wasn’t the fishing that interested me, truthfully I craved for dad to love me, or at least like me. In hindsight I can’t recall any true affection, only plenty of growling when we did wrong.”

“Did David ever whack you or Lewis?’

“Not physically he used words and discouragement.”

“At least I like you,” Biff says in a whisper and out of character as the first vehicle arrives.

It is Michael Brown in his father’s business van accompanied by a newcomer to their group his Cousin Colin Davis.

As the boys return from the waterline Brownie parks close by Biff’s vehicle.

“What’s it with the van?” Biff asks.

“There isn’t enough room in the garage so the old Ford has gone for scrap and there wasn’t any way I was bringing my new baby along these roads. By the way Biff couldn’t you read my map?”

“I didn’t need it why?”

“You’ve pinched my spot,” Brownie protests, his head projecting from the driver’s window, “if you bothered to refer to the map you would have notice I marked who camps where.”

“You know the rules Brownie – first in.”

Brownie sneers and hisses while parking further away as Barry Jones’ old truck is heard arriving, the aging gears grinding its way along the narrow dirt track towards the beach.

Moments later Barry arrives accompanied by Luke Bevin and Wayne Nelson.

Barry approaches Barry as he parks the truck;

“I suppose you will pick them up on the way out?”

“What are you yabbering on about Brownie?” Barry asks.

“The gears.”

“Yea, for once I agree and this time I don’t think she will make it home.”

Barry gazes about with obvious intent;

“Ah there he is.”

“Who?” Brownie asks.

“Our resident mechanic, I may be in need of his services before this weekend is out.”

Grady hears the shout and approaches.”

“I won’t be working on that heap of shit Bazza,” Grady firmly assures although if the need arose he would do his best for a mate.

“Shush’ the tone Greedy, you’ll hurt her feelings.”

Michael Brown surveys the terrain;

“Right then tents; Biff has parked on the best spot, otherwise I suggest near that clump of scrub back from the water.”

“We don’t need a tent,” Biff says.

They all quietly wait for Biff’s reason.

“We’re going to kip in the back of the utility but to put an end to your winging I’ll move it.”

In no time at all and like the boy scouts they once were, the camp is selected and settled, leaving the sleeping arrangements off-kilter with an extra body seeing at the last moment and without notice Brownie invited his cousin.

“I suppose Colin you will share with you Mick?” Barry suggests.

“Already arranged,” Brownie says.

“Then that leaves Luke with Wayne; I’ll bunk down on the back of the truck.”

“It will be a tight squeeze Barry you can bunk in with me and Wayne,” Luke offers.

“Na, the truck will do fine so with that arranged let’s get cracking and finish setting up camp.”

Darkness arrives early in those northern reaches with the moon slow in its ascendency. Across a narrow stretch of flat water Double Island appears silhouetted and oddly larger and closer against an early evening sky. As the little group sit about their camp fire the only sound is the slow ebbing of the waves having a hypnotic quality far removed from the bustle of town life. Behind them the forest is black on black, with the occasional call of a bird, or the splash of something far off in the water.

“Crocodile,” someone shouts.

The group laugh while exaggerated stories come to mind then in reflection the ancient reptiles grow in size to such an extent the salty creatures stalk people in the very streets as they looking for victims and once caught having to endure the creature’s infamous death roll.

The evening’s meal had been simple, now nothing remains except to enjoy the ambience of a still tropical night while sharing past sports glory or lack of, or girls they may have fancied and conquered, all well lubricated with beer supplied by Michael Brown being true to his flashy character.

“Complements boys from the old man, there isn’t any use having a hotel in the family if you can’t take advantage of it,” Firelight flickers across Brownie’s face as he passes around the beer. He has a contented expression as there is nothing Michael Brown enjoys more than being the centre of attention while bathing in the admiration and the adrenaline rush knowing others are obliged towards his liquid charity.

Biff tags Brownie’s euphoria as there is nothing that makes Biff more pleased than to bring his lifelong opponent back to solid earth.

“So Mick, the army’s got one of us at last.”

“Yep Biff it sure has got one of the north’s finest and proud to fight the commies.”

“The war will be over by the time it takes to train you.”

“I’m half trained already Biff.”

Barry Jones laughs;

“Settle down Mick, you haven’t even passed your medical yet.”

“That’s a cinch Barry.”

“I wouldn’t be too sure Mick,” Biff discredits his tone laced with past knowledge that was never shared.

“On another note,” Wayne Nelson intrudes into Michael Brown’s army medical, “what’s the plan for the weekend other than a piss-up with Mick’s free booze?”

“I don’t know about you lot I’m here for a spot of surf fishing,” Luke suggests.

Although Biff’s jab at Brownie’s approaching army medical was tame, Brownie well understood the bite in Biff’s tone and was well prepared to react.

“What about you Biff, wasn’t the weekend your idea?

“In the first place it was nothing more than to give the car a run after Grady had worked on it.”

“The two of you freewheeling for a weekend is a little dubious wouldn’t you think?”

“You would know all about being dubious, wouldn’t you Mick?”

As quickly as the unpleasantries commenced they end with Brownie passing around more beer.

Biff refuses.

“Come on Biff, kiss and make up,” Brownie says.

They all laugh.

Biff accepts the beer and forces a smile.

As for Michael Brown he is so thick skinned within a blinking he has returned to his usual obnoxious self as if nothing untoward had occurred.

The fire is low with the beer showing its effect, Barry is first to retire to his bed on the tray of his truck. Brownie opens another beer and appears to be interested in the dark form of Double Island.

“Hey Greedy didn’t you and your old man fish here?”

“That was a long time back Brownie.”

Brownie is standing while gazing at the dark form of Double Island; “How far is it to that island?” he asks.

“Dunno’ if I recollect we would motor out there in a matter of minutes.”

“What was the fishing like?” Luke’s question is obvious considering his interest in the sport.

“We caught a few rainbow trout.”

“I reckon I could swim it,” Brownie suggests.

“That’s grog talk,” Luke says.

“You could try,” Grady says.

“Yep, I reckon I could swim that in a stroke.”

“Go on,” Biff encourages.

“Hey Brownie how good are you at swimming?” Wayne Nelson asks.

“I was and remain the best.”

“Wouldn’t that be second best Mick?” Biff refers to the swimming carnival in their final school year.

“You were lucky Biff as I had a dodgy belly on the day.”

Luke Bevin is smirking;

“I have a question for you Brownie,” Luke offers.

“Not another of you dumb questions Luke.”

“Just hear me out.”

“Go on.”

“It is more a story than a question.”

“I’m listening.”

“Okay here goes – It is late afternoon, say it is tomorrow afternoon when a mother and a young boy come by, they decide to go for a swim. You are alone, most of our group have gone for a walk and I’m doing a spot of surf fishing further along the beach and too far away to see what’s going on.”

“Yea, what is going on?”

“The woman and kid are enjoying the water, mum is paddling in the shallows the kid is further out when the rip takes hold of him then mum goes to help, now both are in strife.”

“So,” Brownie says.

“As you say you are a good swimmer but you can only save one, would you save the mother or the boy?”

The group wait tensely for Brownie’s answer.

Brownie is hesitant;

“Well go on who would you save Michael?” Wayne asks.

“You say I can only save one?”

“That’s the story.”

“I reckon I’m strong enough to save both.”

“In this story you aren’t.”

“In that case I wouldn’t save either of them.”

“And why?” Luke asks.

“I wouldn’t want everyone thinking I was a failure.”

“Typical,” Biff growls, standing away from the glowing embers of the camp fire, he reaches his arms high into the darkness and yawns.

“I’m going to stretch my legs before turning in.”

As Biff sets out for his late night’s walk, Grady glances across to Brownie and in the limited light he perceives Brownie’s eyes are following Biff.

‘There is something going on here and it is more than simple rivalry,’ Grady once again thinks. He has a half thought towards joining with Biff on his walk but refrains possibly because of Michael Brown’s earlier suggestion referring to Grady having a weekend away with Biff.

‘This isn’t simply rivalry,’ Grady thinks.

‘It goes way back.’

‘If I recollect correctly it started in the early primary school years and about the time Bruce Menzies left town.’

‘Why don’t I have recollection of Bruce?’

‘True he is a little younger but what is Bruce holding on Mick?’

‘And how is Biff involved?’

Grady’s eyes are across the fire towards Brownie but any animosity Brownie may have held has disappeared, if anything he appears expressionless even childlike, his eyes are now closed, his head is gently rocking as if to music and he is smiling.

‘What’s going on in your head Mick?’

‘If I could get in there what would I find?’

‘Like what Biff said, possibly I don’t want to know.’

By now only Brownie and Grady remain seated about the fire’s embers when Grady’s thoughts are broken as Brownie bolts to his feet;

“Right I need to piss – then bed.”

“Do you need to take a piss Greedy?”

“I don’t do job lots Mick.”

“Suit yourself.”

Grady remains alone by the fire;

Michael Brown is standing at the waterline pissing into the froth – he loudly farts;

“Ah I needed that,” Brownie sighs and once finished he heads for his tent leaving Grady beside the fire with his thoughts.

Ten minutes pass without Biff’s return.

A few more minutes and Grady begins to concern for Biff as that stretch of coast is well patrolled by crocodiles and they don’t mind hunting in the dark. One of the reptile’s favourite habits is to lie in the shallows waiting for someone or something to pass by and they have the patience of Job, often laying in ambush for days at a time. Therefore it is well advised when camping by any stretch of ocean or mangrove not to become habitual, as they are smart enough to know if you had visited the same spot on a number of occasions you will again.

Grady decides to retire so being last he covers the embers of their camp fire with sand. On his way to their bunk in the back of the utility, Grady is distracted by a loud splashing sound along the beach coming from the direction Biff had taken. Getting a flashlight from the car he follows the shoreline. After a hundred yards or so the beam of light falls on something ahead close by the water, closer inspection discovers Biff sitting quietly on the cool sand.

Grady catches Biff in the flashlight beam.

“Who’s that?” Biff calls.

“It’s me Grady, what are you doing sitting alone in the dark?”

“Not a lot, just thinking.”

“Can I join you?”

Biff lifts his hand to void off the light, “as long as you turn off that flaming torch.”

Grady flicks the switch and sits.

“What’s bothering you Biff?”

“Not bothering, simply regretting allowing everyone to come along, this was to be our trip.”

There is more splashing, this time towards Double Island then it becomes obvious when a beam of light lines along the sand from a small boat doing a little night fishing.

Catching both in the light’s beam; a voice calls;

“Hoy there is everything okay?”

Biff lifts an arm and shouts;

“Yep just resting a while.”

“Watch it lads we just caught a crock in the light patrolling its way along the reef and it’s a big one.”

Biff answers;

“Right-o mate – thanks,” Biff rises from the sand, “come on let’s go back.”

A slow walk but questions are forming.

“Hey Biff I’ve got a question.”

“Yea – another, you have a bag full of them, I reckon if you sold them at the local market you would make a packet.”

Grady ignores his friend’s remark and continues;

“What is it with you and Michael Brown and why does Bruce Menzies keep coming up in conversation?”

“Now that is a right doozy of a question and I don’t think you are ready for the answer.”

“Did something happen between Brownie and Bruce Menzies?”

“And others.”

“You as well?”

“Not directly,” Biff admits as they approach their camp.

Someone is walking along the beach a short distance ahead.

Grady flashes his torch discovering Luke Bevin.

“Hoy Luke,” Grady calls.

“Too hot in the tent,” Luke says.

“That’s why we are in the back of the utility.”

“I was watching some men fishing from a boat along the reef. I think they are using a net.”

“Yes we saw them.”

“Didn’t your dad bring you fishing down here when you were a kid?” Bevin asks.

“We never caught many, a few coral trout out on the reef with a shark taking the biggest and the old tinnie almost sunk, so mum wouldn’t let him take us anymore.”

“And Brownie wants to swim out to Double Island,” Luke drolly suggests.

“We should let him,” Biff suggests.

“Sharks,” Luke says, “I caught one on my line while fishing down Cardwell way. It was a big bugger and I had to cut the line.”

“You seem to like fishing Luke?”

“Yes Grady I do, most of all I like the solitude but with Brownie around you don’t get much of that.”

“The army will knock him into shape.” Biff says and for the present he avoids Grady’s earlier question.

The answer would be shared but not this night.

Gary’s stories are about life for gay men in Australia’s past and present. Your emails to him are the only payment he receives. Email Gary to let him know you are reading: Conder 333 at Hotmail dot Com

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