Published: 25 May 2026

At last it’s out;

“Breakfast time!” Barry’s voice booms into the warm morning air while working eggs and sausages in a large crusted pan. The burner, as Rob Bastian’s Barbeque used during their last camping trip went with the sale of the house, has been replaced with a small spirit stove borrowed from the football club.

The only response to Barry’s call is from Luke who is already trying his fishing luck with a long surf line well bated but lacking in success.

Slowly the little band of campers come from their rest. Brownie is immediately into the grog supply and somewhat bemused why no one else is for the taking.

“Into it already Brownie,” Barry shakes his head while plating the breakfast, “I believe we have an alcoholic in the making.”

“I have to lubricate the voice to exchange pearls of wisdom,” Brownie says.

Grady is up but unusual for Biff he remains in bed, also he had tossed about more than usual during the night, giving Grady opinion his friend is troubled well beyond usual and true to Biff’s character is keeping his problems in-house.

Eventually everyone is gathered enjoying Barry’s singed sausages and runny eggs, washed down with warm black tea flavoured with twigs and bits of leaves, even so all agreed a camping breakfast is as good as any served in some swank city hotel.

“Earlier this morning,” Luke says, “when I was looking for a good fishing spot I found a small creek with an old rowing boat tied to a tree.”

Michael Brown becomes interested, “where is it?’

Luke is pointing along the stretch of sand, “not far, about a hundred yards or so past the bend to the north.”

“We should give it a go.”

“I don’t think so Mick, there’s a sign reading private property, besides there didn’t appear to be any oars.”

“We could make some oars outa’ branches.”

“Sure thing Brownie then we could row down to the city for lunch,” Luke says.

Everyone is much too interested with breakfast to show concern towards Brownie’s folly, besides most had been bitten by his mischievous bug at one time or another, from filling a team mate’s aftershave bottle with his piss, to putting laxative chocolates in Quincy Fanning’s girlfriends Christmas chocolate box. Brownie got a bloody nose from Quincy out of that little caper.

What next?

A good question;

Nothing had been prearranged; true Luke was quick to use the trip for a spot of fishing and Brownie an excuse to consume copious amounts of alcohol away from the disappointment of his father but the others were more or less along for the ride. Barry’s reason being if he didn’t come along to keep a lid on proceedings who would know what bother they would get into and come the next cricket match they could be down a couple of important players.

As for the boys; Biff’s idea was to give his vehicle a run while formulating something he needs to share with Grady and Grady would agree to go anywhere Biff suggested.

Thus commenced a hot sunny Saturday morning under a cloudless sky with an ocean mirror flat;

From a previous visit Barry recalls a small waterfall in walking distance with a cool pool used by locals as a swimming hole, considered to be free of the large salty reptiles often found along the beach and river estuaries. The only danger at the falls would be twenty foot long scrub pythons, stinging nettle trees and old man cassowary guarding his chicks during the nesting period.

“I’m in,” agrees Wayne followed by the blow-in’ to their group Colin Davis but Brownie had already departed to find his own entertainment while the boys decided to give it a miss and stay behind with Luke who suggested it would be a change to cast a line without the others offering negative comment, also on the way down Biff’s utility appeared to be running rich and he wanted Grady to fiddle with the tuning.

“Have you caught anything?” Biff asks Luke as he approaches, leaving Grady under the utility’s bonnet.

“A few nibbles.”

“What do you mainly catch surf fishing?” Biff asks.

“Mostly trevally but I don’t like my chances today.”

“Why’s that?”

Luke points to the breaker line where what appears to be a large log slowly moving parallel to the beach, oddly it is travelling against a known rip at the southern end of the beach.

“That’s why and he’s got his eye on me, if he makes the slightest detour I’m outa’ here.”

“He’s a big bugger, to think Brownie wanted to take a swim out to Double Island.”

Grady is finished with the car and approaches;

“All good,” he says.

“Thanks,”

“What’s the go?”

Both Luke and Biff point towards the slowly moving crocodile.

“Oh; I wonder if it’s the same one we saw while fishing here some years back,” Grady questions.

“How long do they live?” Luke asks.

“Dad reckons crocs can live for more than seventy years.”

“Seeing you are twenty, I guess it is possible it’s the same one.” Luke considers.

“I guess so – where’s Brownie?”

Luke shrugs as he brings in the line minus the bait;

“The last I saw of him he was heading along the beach towards the creek.”

“When was that?” Grady asks.

“Just before the others went to the waterfall.” Luke rebates his line and casts.

“What do you think Biff, should we go find him.”

Biff appears uninterested;

“He’s big and ugly enough to look after himself.”

“What if he tries to swim across to the island?” Grady asks.

“Surely he’s not that silly,” Luke suggests.

“He is,” Biff assures.”

Come on we better go see what the silly bugger is up to;”

Grady starts towards the north while Luke continues with his fishing.

Reluctantly Biff follows behind Grady.

A few steps;

A shout;

“I’ve got one at last!”

The boys turn in time to see Luke land a large struggling fish onto the sand.

“What is it?” Grady calls.

“It’s a barramundi!”

“Keep it up and we’ll have a fish dinner tonight.”

The boys recommence towards the point.

“I don’t much like fish,” Biff confesses.

“You have fish and chips at Tip-top café.”

“That’s different Chipper Joe cooks his in beer batter and it masks that fishy smell you often get.”

“Fishy smell,” Luke calls after the boys while displaying the sexist attitude of the time.

“Anyway,” Grady says as they recommence towards the point.

“Anyway what Grady?”

“Anyway nothing I suppose it is one of those words you say when you have nothing to offer but feel you should.”

“I saw David at the Royal last Wednesday,” Biff says.

“What were you doing drinking at the Royal on a week night?”

“One of the fellows from work was leaving for work in Gordonvale and we were giving him a send off.”

“Did you and dad speak?”

“He did.”

“What did he have to say?”

“He again mentioned I was the cause of you not continuing with your education.”

Grady become irritated, he takes a deep breath then loudly exhales, then with a second forced breath he answers;

“If anyone is to blame it is dad, I couldn’t take another minute of him trying to make me into something I couldn’t be simply to make him look good with his shire mates.”

“It’s alright Grady keep your pants on, I have never accepted the blame.”

It is a short walk to the point and once there they discover Luke’s creek empting into the ocean. The creek is wide although not deep, the water is the colour of tea caused by decaying vegetation. A short distance to their left the creek makes a turn into the forest. Along the low bank there is a narrow path. The boys follow the path to a pool in the creek where they spy the faded red painted hull of a small rowing boat tethered to a tree.

At their next step Grady pulls Biffs arm;

“Shush,” he whispers.

“What?”

Grady points towards the boat.

“Brownie is lying in the skiff.”

Biff softly laughs;

“So he is and naked.”

“Not only naked but he’s feeding the chooks.”

“The randy little bugger;” Biff chuckles.

Moments later Brownie ejaculates over his bare stomach followed by a loud and satisfying grunt.

“Shit!” Brownie growls then scoops a handful of creek water across the offending glistening jizz. He bolts upright as if suffering guilt from his somewhat public display of concupiscence his eyes are all about as if he had heard something.

Biff pulls Grady back from exposure;

“Better we are outa’ here before he spies us.”

As they move away Biff glances across to Grady who appears to be rearranging his trousers; “did we get a little excited,” he asks.

“No.”

“Your pants suggest otherwise.”

“It’s been a while.”

“What since you had a root, or fed the chooks?”

“Both.”

Biff is grinning, “go on Grady release the pressure – feed the chooks, I won’t tell.”

Grady is in such an erotic state he almost agrees but never with an audience. The pressure lessens and they continue on.

By the time the boys reach their camping site the others have returned from their trip to the waterfalls and Luke’s luck had increased with three fair sized barramundi for the night’s meal.

“Where’s Brownie?” Barry asks being the self appointed custodian of their wellbeing.

Biff looks towards Biff and they laugh, “Dunno’,” the say in unison.

“It’s getting late maybe we should go look for him.”

As Barry speaks, Brownie is spied returning from the point.

Brownie slowly approaches;

“Where did you go?” Colin asks.

“Just walking, I found Luke’s boat but it wouldn’t last a minute in the surf.”

“We thought you may have tried to swim out to Double Island.”

“Na.”

“Brownie you look all spent out.”

“What does that mean Biff?”

“You appear as if you have just run a marathon.”

The others appear confused by Biff’s suggestion.

“No marathon Biff, simply walking in the hot sun.”

“The hot sun does strange things to a feller’.”

Grady gives Biff a poke in the ribs.

“Who’s for a beer?” Brownie asks and Biff suggestive banter comes to an end.

It is a pleasant evening with a cool sea breeze; the moon is sitting on the horizon beyond Double Island. Luke’s barramundi meal had been well appreciated now digesting with Brownie’s beer supply.

“Drink up boys,” Brownie encourages, “there is a couple of dozen more to be had but the ice is well melted.”

“Warm beer,” Wayne complains, “we aren’t Pommies.”

Even so he accepts and consumes what is on offer.

Biff doesn’t appear interested in drinking which is marked by Grady, also since spying Brownie relieving the day’s heat in the skiff Biff’s mood had become sober while keeping his own company. Grady well understood the markers in his friend’s character and gave Biff space to work through what appeared to be an ongoing crisis but his endurance is weakening and sooner or later he would demand an answer.

Earlier Biff had found pleasure in making suggestion towards Brownie but had given it a miss as Brownie didn’t appear to understand. Biff did think of bringing him undone but what would it prove. Possibly give a little satisfaction in having one back on his adversary although with Brownie that never worked. Brownie had the knack of lapping it up like a cat with milk, laughing and about turning any insult, usually retorting with something personal one had attempted to keep from public knowledge and as time goes by he was coming a little too close to bringing Biff undone.

The evening is waning and with the last of the beer consumed conversation dried. Biff had been sitting quietly for some time then contra to character he stands and says, “I need to piss.”

‘Strange,’ Grady thinks.

‘Usually he is private,’

‘Especially if it is to do with personal stuff.’

“Do you need a hand Biff?” Brownie offers.

“No thank you Mick but I reckon you could handle yourself without my help.”

Grady understands the jab although no one else takes notice, not even Brownie.

Grady eyes follow after Biff as he goes to the shore line.

Brownie’s eyes are on Grady as if to suggest, go on follow your mate.

‘What is Brownie thinking?’

‘He acts dumb but he is always watching.’

‘It is as if he is holding something on Biff.’

Brownie breaks contact, “that’s the last of the beer,” he says and tosses his spent can into the pile of empties.

Moments later Biff is seen walking along the shore. Grady wishes to follow, in doing so would only add to Brownie’s suspicion.

Half an hour passes and still Biff hasn’t returned now Grady’s concern is strong, how could he follow without the others noticing, or more so would Biff consider Grady’s disquiet to be interference.

Grady stretches and yawns;

“I don’t know about you lot but I’m off to bed.”

“Goodnight.” Barry says.

The others ignore Grady.

Grady rises and walks in the direction of the utility, once gone from sight he changes direction towards that taken by Biff.

It wasn’t long before Grady finds Biff slowly walking along the beach some distance from the camp, his shape silhouetted against the moon.

Grady quietly approaches;

“It’s a little cooler tonight,” Grady says as a conversation breaker.

“It is.”

“What time should we leave tomorrow?”

“Early I should think, remember you promised your mother to help her clear out the remainder of David gear from my room.”

“That should give you more space”

“It doesn’t bother me, I don’t own much.”

They slowly walk on together then Biff does something strange, he reaches across from his very personal space and places a hand gently on Grady’s shoulder.

He gives a gentle squeeze.

“I like living with you Grady.”

Grady wishes to reply; instead he considers it better to discover where the conversation is leading.

“I guess it can’t go on forever,” Biff says.

“Why not.”

“Just can’t.”

“We could make it happen.” Grady suggests.

“Possibly.”

Biff drops his hand back to his side.

A few more steps and Biff drops down to the cool sand.

Grady sits beside.

“You have almost said something for months now, I wish you would say whatever is bothering you and be done with it.”

“That’s the problem Grady if I do speak then everything will be done with.”

“Never – I’ve always said I would support you no matter what.”

“Possibly not with what I need to say.”

A deep breath;

Another;

Grady can feel the tension rising in his friend and wishes to reach out and drawn him close with the words, don’t worry I’m always here and would never abandon you.

At last it is out;

“Grady I have to go away.”

“Why?”

“For Christ sake Grady isn’t it bloody obvious, I’ve falling in love with you and it’s driving me crazy.”

Grady laughs;

“What’s so bloody funny about that?”

“It’s too late for leaving as I’m coming to realise that I’ve always been in love with you.”

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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