Chapter 11: Click Go the Shearers - Initiation

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In May 1971 a much-loved Australian actor, 'Chips' Rafferty, died. In the 1960 film The Sundowners, he played the character Quinlan, boss of hiring and organising shearing teams at a Stock and Station Agency. Quinlan combined individual shearers and other shearing shed workers to make these teams that would work the shearing circuit of the larger graziers' properties for the current season.

Set in the 1920's, the film starred Robert Mitchum, a 'gun' (champion) shearer who could do "better than 200 a day... his best is 248" (our shearers boasted 140 merinos each a day in the 1970's! Definitely a gun shearer, the rugged Robert). In the film-given this amazing level of prowess-Quinlan desperately wanted him, although reluctant to accept the "all or nothing" deal of the wife, son, and friend, along with the shearer himself.

"That queers it. I never hire a woman cook," Quinlan says. "I only hire blokes!" and further suggests the food would probably not be up to scratch.

Outraged, the wife (Deborah Kerr) says, "... the tucker will be up to scratch, alright. Let's ask the shearers." The burning question and varying opinions are tossed back and forth.

"I dunno about a woman. It's not right."

"If she can cook as good as my Missus, I'm for it."

"Let's give her a sporting chance."

"Aww-ww, I sez give 'er a go. All we can get is bloody indigestion!"

And as in all the greatest of debates, in the end the majority ruled. The tenacious and inseparable group was hired.

Today shearers are apprenticed, and achieve all the required book learning and degrees in purpose-designed education centres. Some will even have 'hands-on' experience in mock shearing sheds, and maybe even a few weeks' work experience, out in the real world. But yesterday's Shearers received their qualifications, skills and incredible speeds, in the School of Hard Knocks-and ours is just one of countless first-hand stories about basic 'true blue shearers' of the last century.

"The shearers'll be starting end of next week," Sam said one day. "You'll do the cooking for them, right Chris?"

I nodded and smiled bravely, carefully hiding any outward expression of my thoughts-this should be great! Rumour is they walk off the job if they don't like the cook. Hmm-I might walk off the job before they do!

Even for a great cook, it's a demanding schedule. Meals and teas must be on the dot, and every day a cooked breakfast. I began to feel faint-cooked? On my woodstove? The one I have to fire up half an hour earlier to be able to cook on top? In a previous lifetime I had been the original 'two coffees before she wakes up' type. Once in a while I even consumed a piece of toast-usually just to be sociable with overnight guests, and usually following a 'big' night.

Sam blithely said, "It's not much really-just two shearers-Pat and Ned!" I wondered if he was joking. With names like these, they would be a couple of likely lads, surely? Likely to say or do anything you can imagine-mostly not too well. Sam told me there would also be himself, his Dad, and a mate or two of Dad's some of the time; and of course, Kanute. (The numbers had suddenly blossomed, or ballooned, or similar.)

"But it's only for two weeks," Sam said, in his usual offhand fashion.

Sounds reasonable, I thought. Yes, but... there just had to be a 'but', didn't there? Breakfast to be at 7am sharp; morning tea served at the shearing shed at 9.30am sharp; cold meat and salad lunch (no dessert) 12.15pm; afternoon tea (also at the shed) 3pm. Incredibly the timing of dinner was to be totally at my choice! Of course, it must be a hearty hot dinner and a generous helping of dessert-AND a couple more cups of tea each. I calculate that adds up to about 8 cups of tea each a day-and that's not counting teatime. No wonder I found myself eternally refilling my great kettle for yet another 'brew'.

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