60 in 60 #29 Phil

 60 in 60 #29    Phil 

I am reflecting on the last 60 years, and writing 60 blog posts. 30 about people and 30 about events, places, experiences and entities.

 

When I was directing RYLA and RYPEN (#27 of 60 in 60) I met a lot of people and made many friends. One who became a good mate was Phil Sparrow. He came to RYLA as a participant and made an immediate impression, he was confident and articulate and showed obvious leadership capabilities from the very first day. I directed six RYLA seminars in succession so the events and memories have tended to become mixed up in my mind, especially as it was in the early 90s. I don’t remember which year Phil came to RYLA but I sensed it would not be the last and when I was recruiting team members for the following year I invited him to join the team. It was the beginning of a connection and partnership that has spanned many events and places over the last 30 years.

 RYLA crew upon return from Margaret River. 

Phil had outdoor skills which made him an asset when we took the RYLA crews to camp at Margaret River and go abseiling and caving at places like WI16, Brides Cave and the Willyabrup sea cliffs. He also had a strong interest in social justice issues and geopolitical ideas. We had run the One World Dinner each year and it was Phil who suggested another activity, “The Money Game” (#25) that we could try. The first iteration didn’t have the same impact as the OWD but I loved the idea and over the next ten years I used it at both RYPEN and the Year 10 Leadership Camp, developing and refining it to the point where it was a highlight of the program and left an enduring impact on the participants. When I first met him Phil was exploring questions of faith and belief. He was going out with a girl I knew through youthwork circles, Franca, and I remember him mailing a coconut back to her from somewhere overseas, with the address written directly on the husk. 

Phil joined my team for RYPEN as well and I have vivid memories of us running around the Araluen campsite playing “Capture the Watermelon” a more challenging variation of the popular wide game, “Capture the Flag”. 

 

Around this time I was working as the Coordinator of the Chip-Inn drop in centre at Warwick Church of Christ, a long-standing youth project. Chip Inn was started by a bloke called Jeff Pope and used the latest in whiz-bang computers at the time, Commodore 64s, to attract local kids on a Thursday night. I had heard of Chip Inn when I was working at the Rockingham Youth Centre in the late 80s and met Jeff at a youthwork conference. 

 

Carolyn and I spent eight months in the eastern states in 1988. We went to the National Gathering in Canberra, World Expo and The Pavilion of Promise in Brisbane and then  six months at Kilmany Park in Sale doing a diploma in youth and community work with Fusion before returning to Perth. I started a twelve month placement with Fusion Perth doing school seminars, day trips and youth outreach. Around this time I was invited to apply for the position at Chip Inn by the senior minister Geoff Carslake. Initially it was just one day a week but the role grew over the next few years and I worked closely with the ministry team: Bruce Eagles, Lyn Devlin and youth minister Rob Mason.

 

Chip Inn was mostly staffed by volunteers and each Thursday night we would set up the ageing 64s and open the doors to local teenagers. I asked Phil to join the team and before long he was so effective that I was able to get him on the payroll and he became my 2ic, co-worker and partner-in-crime. We developed a great partnership and I loved working with him at Chip Inn. As the computers became more antiquated and unserviceable the focus of Chip Inn switched from them to other activities. Many of the kids preferred to hang around outside and the team concentrated more on relationship-building and making connections. At its peak Chip Inn attracted over 100 kids a night. It needs to be said that there were other reasons they came. The nearby bush that separated the church from the Warwick Grove shopping centre provided perfect cover for them to go and smoke dope and bucket bongs. We didn’t condone this but nor did we condemn it. We were there to offer friendship, support and a safe place and to demonstrate our faith through love in action. The fact that so many kids came so regularly was proof that we were doing something right and we gradually expanded the range of activities to offer alternatives to our clientele.

 

The kids at Chip Inn sitting on my old Holden. A kid asked me one night why I let them sit on it, I relied, "Because people are more important than cars".

We ran a basic canteen each week selling soft drink and chocolate bars, which gave us a good way to meet new kids, ask their names and get to know them a little bit. Around this time I had established a relationship with the local bakers, John and Rose Knight, and several afternoons a week I would go and collect their leftover bread, cakes, rolls and donuts and then distribute it to a range of charities and people. I always had boxes of bread and goodies in the car and was known by reputation as the guy with all the bread! We saved the jam and cream donuts, cakes and goodies for the Chip Inn canteen and the kids were so eager to get their hands on them that Phil and I created “The Corridor of Death” as a right of passage in order to score a prized donut or cake. We would take up position in the narrow corridor between the auditorium and the back door. Any kid wanting a donut had to run the gamut of the Corridor of Death. That simply meant they had to get past us. It was a brutal physical game and Phil I spared no effort and took no prisoners as we blocked, bashed, bounced and rebuffed waves of clamouring teens trying to get to the holy grail of sweet treats! Many a kid got squashed between us and the brick walls. As the Corridor of Death grew in intensity we started wearing skate helmets and elbow pads for protection/effective combat! It was hot sweaty and hilarious, the kids loved it and came back for more each week. 

Another game that was a big hit was Bush Hockey. Two teams wielding rolled up newspapers bound with masking tape chased and belted a soft bouncy rubber ball up and down the auditorium scoring goals against tables turned on their sides.  The regular church members would have been stunned to see their place of worship turned into a sporting battlefield for 20-30 boisterous teenagers each Thursday night.

 

We started running outings and camps to places like Nanga and Margaret River. Many of the kids had never been camping, let alone caving and abseiling so they jumped at the chance to try some adventure activities. We would camp at Contos Field, swim at Contos beach and wash in the fresh water spring that runs out of the rocks at the bottom of the hill. I taught them an old schoolyard game, “Rule the World” on the beach and they played it for hours. At night time we’d cook camp food and sit around the campfire telling stories or sharing our faith, go looking for possums or play “Capture the Flag” across the wide expanse of Contos Field. Exploring Giants Cave, swinging across the sunken floor of Brides Cave and doing run downs at Willyabrup were fantastic and memorable experiences for the kids. On a camp at Nanga we spent hours swimming in the river and wrestling kids in rubber tyre tubes. It was on that camp that the cheeky Michael Bregman nicknamed me “Burgertron”!

The debrief at the end of the night at Chip Inn. 

 Willyabrup Sea Cliff

We had a Coaster Bus, painted in the colours of the Aboriginal flag, which made all of these trips and camps possible. Before Phil joined the team I had taken a group of eleven kids and three leaders on a trip across the country in it to the Blackstump Christian Music and Arts Festival at Cataract Park, about an hour outside of Sydney. I had been to Blackstump the year before while we were still at Sale, making some money selling screen printed T-shirts under my label, “Printz of Peace”. It was a fantastic three day event and I was keen to take a group of West Aussie kids from Chip Inn. It was an “eventful” trip to put it mildly! The roof rack struts, straining under the weight of all the gear, started popping off with a bang as we climbed Greenmount hill just out of Perth! Plan B was called for and a covered trailer from YWAM was delivered so we could set off again. Six flat tyres! Yes, 6! Three on the bus and three on the trailer. We quickly ran out of spares and had to wait while getting them repaired, one on a dirt road “shortcut” out of Port Augusta. 

The Blackstump Trip, 1989

Perth kids in the big city

We limped into Blackstump after three and a half days on the road , the last leg of the journey punctuated by intermittent broadcasts of the 1989 Grand Final as the radio signal dropped in and out every time we descended or climbed a hill. The kids became celebrities at Blackstump when it was discovered they had come “All the way from Perth”. Jeff, who was now living and working in Sydney, revisited his Chip Inn roots and generously offered to have us stay at their place for a couple of days in Sydney before we headed back west across the Nullarbor. The only other driver was a team member, Terry so driving stints were interspersed with “sleep” on the floor behind the driver’s seat. It was a tough trip for all sorts of reasons, which of course made it all the more memorable.

 Some of the early Chip Inn team and kids

Another Chip Inn excursion involved dragging the kids up very early on a Saturday morning and driving up to Toodyay to watch the start of the Avon Descent. The powerboats and kayaks shooting the rapids at Extracts Weir were spectacular but not as crazy and engrossing as the hour-long mud fight we had with the kids up and down the river bank!

 

In 1992 I was selected to attend an international youth leadership conference in Montreal and in my absence Phil took over managing the drop in centre for the six weeks I was away. I knew it was in safe hands while I spent a week in London, a week at the conference in Canada and a month in the States, culminating at a Calvary Chapel conference in Costa Mesa California with Skip Joannes and Mike Klenner. 

 

Atop Observation City

By the time I left Chip Inn to work as chaplain at Carine, Phil had moved on to a youth project based in Scarborough. He was able to arrange access to Observation City and permission for me to take a group of teachers abseiling off the roof. 

While at UWA working towards his Masters degree he met a girl called Julie and not too long after they got engaged.

I was honoured when Phil asked me to be one of his groomsmen although a misread on my part almost scuttled my place in the wedding party! Phil asked me to organise a buck’s night for him and, never having been to one, I relied on the stories and legends of buck’s nights for guidance. Given our faith and values it was never going to degenerate into booze and strippers so we opted for some thrills bridge swinging and a BBQ. So far so good. It seemed however that some sort of prank was a necessary part of the right of passage so a few of us grabbed Phil at the end of the night, held him down and I shaved a cross in his chest hair. I feel embarrassed writing about it because it backfired badly. Phil was horrified, to the extent that he seriously considered excluding me from the wedding party! His idea of a buck’s night was something very different to mine and he was not happy at all. I am grateful for two things, one, that he forgave me enough not to boot me as groomsman, and two, that it is the only time we’ve had a serious falling-out. The wedding was a lovely occasion, held at the Stoneville Children’s home where Julie worked.

A few years later when Phil and Julie chose to re-declare their marriage vows they asked me to conduct the “service” on the banks of the Swan River in Nedlands.

 

Phil and Julie's wedding, easy to see who the cool one is.

We were both very involved with Scripture Union-SU- as camp leaders and directors around this time. We were part of the leadership team for the newly created MAD Camp (Make A Difference Camp) aimed at developing young people in their faith and discipleship. The camp was held at Eagle’s Nest retreat centre in the Avon valley and another team member was Andrew Broadbent. Broady has many talents but chief amongst them was the ability to get me into trouble, or to be present when I did so myself! There will be more to say about Broady in a future chapter but this story needs to be told here.

MAD Camp was typical of most SU camps in that there was a lot of time spent having fun, playing games and enjoying the company of teenagers. It had an aim of teaching and encouraging young Christians in their walk with Jesus. The combination of fun and faith and the influence and role-modelling of leaders they could relate to always created a positive and powerful environment. Each night there would be music and worship followed by one of the team leading a teaching session on some aspect of Christian faith. 

 

Broady, Phil and I are all good mates but it’s fair to say that of the three, Broady is the funny one and Phil is the serious one. On this particular night, Phil was doing the teaching and while I don’t remember the theme (for reasons that will soon become obvious) I know he had spent a lot of time and effort preparing for it and was intent on delivering it in such a way as to make an impact on the campers and challenge them in their growth.

We were all sitting around on the floor of the cosy meeting room when disaster struck, in the shape of Broady! Turning to me he asked in a whisper, “Do you smell petrol?”. Immature as it may be, I knew this was code for him having just farted! I burst out laughing and then tried to quickly stifle my laughter, knowing it was inappropriate and inopportune to be laughing while Phil was teaching. The problem was that with subtle but meaning-laden looks from Broady he kept provoking me and I soon collapsed into that helpless state of uncontrollable laughter! By now Phil was again horrified! What was I doing wrecking his presentation? I tried desperately to stop, and apologised repeatedly but if you’ve ever been in that state you know it is almost impossible to escape from and with Broady acting innocent and looking at me with mock disdain I was gone! I think I had to leave the room but by then the magic was broken and the session had been well and truly sabotaged! That would have been bad enough but in the true spirit of youthwork praxis/action-reflection, once the kids had all gone to bed came the “debrief”, a one-to-one dissection of the night’s events in which Phil took me to town and expressed in no uncertain manner how disappointed and unhappy he was with my actions. I tried to explain but he wasn’t having any of my pitiful excuses that “Broady had farted” and just kept hammering me for the way I had ruined the session and the harm I had done to the cause of the gospel. It went on for a long time and I had no leg to stand on, I was guilty as charged and just had to grit my teeth and bear it. To add a final Machiavellian twist, all the while, Broady was in the bed next door pretending to be asleep to avoid any of Phil’s wrath. He delighted in telling me later he had heard the whole thing and had dared not move, in order to escape any recrimination or guilt by association! Even now, years later, Broady can reduce me to fits of guilty laughter with those four words, “Can you smell petrol?”

NB. I don’t consider this episode to have been a falling-out, more a clash of cultures and ideas!

 

Once I started working at Carine I knew I needed a support group of peers and like-minded people to stand with me and pray for me through the challenges of chaplaincy. I asked Phil and Broady to be part of it, along with another mate, Hugh Francis and thus The Breakfast Club was born. Some members came and went. Khristo Newall was part of it for a few years, including the memorable day when we decided to play tennis before breakfast and he wore a tennis skirt for the occasion. Another who shall not be named came for a few months before being unofficially expelled for his careless treatment of Hugh’s beloved cat Matilda. We met one Saturday morning a month for breakfast at Hugh’s, each person bringing something to share. I always had bread of course, while Phil expressed his individuality by bringing random items, not always known for their breakfast qualities. I seem to recall some quinces on one occasion. From humble beginnings The Breakfast Club became an institution that continued to meet together for over twenty years. When we moved to Busselton the meetings were less frequent but just as eagerly looked forward to and even now that I’ve been in Victoria for ten years, we still get together for Breakfast Club whenever I go back to Perth, usually at a café or restaurant where we share a meal and catch up. There was no set agenda other than to talk about how we were going in various aspects of our lives and to pray together. While it started out as a support group for me it quickly transitioned into a mutual support group where we could share openly and honestly and a great bond grew between the four of us, Hugh, Broady, Phil and I.

 An early version of The Breakfast Club

Phil, Broady, Hugh, Me

Phil and Julie were blessed with the birth of a daughter, Pieta, but quickly discovered that she had a serious and potentially fatal heart condition soon after the birth, requiring emergency surgery in Melbourne. Thankfully the surgery was successful. I again had the privilege of conducting a child dedication service for Pieta when she was a baby. She has now grown into a lovely young woman, and is currently studying at ANU in Canberra. 

 

Phil will need to afford me some grace in this part of the story because I can’t remember the specific timelines of the following events. He and Julie were both committed to doing community development work in other parts of the world and they set their path for Afghanistan soon after they were married. They moved to the northern city of Mazar-el-sharif, learnt Farzi, the local language, and became immersed in the Afghan culture. When the September 11 attacks occurred they had to evacuate and return to Australia, leaving behind resources, friends and unfinished work as the world’s attention was turned to fighting terrorism in that region. They have worked with TEAR, IAM and the UN in several tours of duty in Afghanistan and their two eldest children, Pieta and Elijah were raised there. On and off they spent many years working and living in difficult and dangerous conditions in that troubled country. Phil and Julie have a deep love for Afghanistan and have always hoped to be able to go back and continue their work there. Phil has been back for short-term projects over the years but no opportunities have arisen for them to return fully.

There has been a hole and an ache in Phil’s heart for Afghanistan which may never go away and he has found it very difficult to find meaningful and fulfilling work back here in Australia over the last several years.

 

Phil and I have a lot in common, but just as many things that make us different. He is highly educated, an intellectual with a passion for community development and international mission. He is a deep thinker but with his feet firmly on the ground. Phil has an amazing skill-set, he’s an improviser with brilliant practical skills, a bush engineer for whom no task is too challenging or too difficult. He maintains the family property at Margaret River, is mechanically minded and intensely resourceful. Unlike me he has zero interest in football, often mocking me with tales of how well “Buzzy Franklin” played on the weekend. We share one sporting memory, the battles for “The Golden Racquet” fought out on the squash court each month or so for a few years. He surfs and has recently restarted Christian Surfers events for kids in Perth.

Phil has written two books, one about life and work in Afghanistan and the other about fatherhood in which he compiled stories, anecdotes and insights from a group of men reflecting on how they experienced being Dads. I was rapt to be able to contribute some stories for the book.

A few years ago Phil went through a very hard time that caused him a great deal of trauma and anguish and resulted in the loss of a job he loved. While I was not living there in person, I was glad to be able to provide a level of support for him through regular phone calls and messages. It reinforced for me the value of true friendship, the importance of connection and the absolute worth of having people you love and trust to turn to when the shit hits the fan.

 

I love Phil. He is one of my closest mates and I greatly value his friendship. I know I say this about a lot of people but in every instance it is genuine and true. I am fortunate to have a number of very very good friends, people I love, respect and care about and who I believe feel the same way towards me. Friendships such as the one Phil and I share are a rich blessing for which I am immensely grateful.

 

I love you mate.

60 in 60 #28 Cam

 60 in 60 #28    Cam

 

I am reflecting on the last 60 years, and writing 60 blog posts. 30 about people and 30 about events, places, experiences and entities.

 

When I started as chaplain at Carine in 1993 one of the local District Council members was a lovely lady called Anne Tero. Her husband Terry was a Uniting Church minister at Duncraig. Anne was very supportive of my work and Terry was someone I occasionally talked to about how things were going at the school. Several years later they moved to take up ministry in Bridgetown, which happened to be where Mum lived for many years. When she married Walter I was able to conduct the service under the supervision and authority of Terry. 

Anne and Terry were a beautiful godly couple with servant hearts and gentle spirits. 

 

What I didn’t know until a few years later was that Anne would go home from council meetings and relate a lot of my chaplaincy stories to her son Cameron. I didn’t know him but by virtue of his Mum, he knew “of” me. Therefore it was great to meet him when he became chaplain at Kent St High School and we quickly became friends. We shared a love of sport and being the enterprising and community-building types we were, we arranged a few North v South Chaplain’s events, pitting chaplains from either side of the Swan River in friendly competition. I recall an indoor cricket game and a go-karting session. 

 

In those early days of chaplaincy in WA we all got together regularly for PD days and a retreat once a year. Cam and I attended “religiously” and our friendship grew. I should say that for those who don’t know Cam personally, he has the looks of a choirboy, is the very picture of innocence, with a boyish face and glasses that give him a studious appearance. 

But, dear reader, don’t be fooled by that outward charm! Cam possesses a mischievous nature and a quiet dry wit, a twinkle in his eye and he is not averse to a bit of skulduggery or a subtle cutting comment.

 

The retreats were a constant source of amusement. I think we broke a window at  Wollaston one time kicking footies, or throwing missiles at one another, or maybe we just got told off for the possibility of it! Brian was in charge back then and I don’t think he knew how to take all of us young blokes, with our similar interests, passions and energy. 

There was a memorable night when he came out in his PJs to tell us to quieten down!  

For a few years the retreats were held at Kobeelya in Katanning. They were memorable for many reasons: Sev groaning and threatening to throw up as we played on one of the tilted merry go rounds at the adventure playground in town, holding “The Lesser Silence” as a protest the year Youthcare decided to hold “The Greater Silence” for the first day of the retreat!, watching the Wallabies win the World Cup in a crowded common room late on Saturday night, and sharing the excitement when my nephew Daniel Foster was drafted by Geelong. However, the two things I’ll never forget both involved Cam. The first was sneaking into a few dorms when most people were asleep and drawing on their faces with textas! Discretion overtook valour though when we realised one room we had sneaked into was Ted’s. Ted Witham that is, Brian’s successor and a truly lovely man. 

The other memory centred on the table tennis tournament that had been running all weekend. On the Sunday afternoon it culminated in the final with Cam and I playing Broady and someone else. I am, and have always been, very competitive so I was feeling good when we got to match point with a five point lead. Sadly, I had not counted on Cam’s bizarre and unhelpful decision to then go for a smash on every shot he played! After 2-3 of these misguided missiles went astray I suggested to Cam that he play it a bit safer seeing as we only needed a point to win! My request fell on deaf ears as Cam continued to go for broke with every shot, the result being we snatched defeat from the jaws of victory and lost the tournament! Broady delights in retelling the story and witnessing the change in my disposition as Cam threw away a certain victory!

 

Later retreats were held at New Norcia and were the scene of the annual Trivial Pursuit battles between the men and the women. After dinner we would gather in the common room and pitch wits and memories against each other. Cam and I were the foundation members of the blokes’ team while “The Mother of all Chaplains”, Heather Gare led the women’s team. Never could there be a more different approach to TP. 

When the blokes got a tough question there’d be a brief discussion to see if anyone knew the answer, then we’d quickly gauge our best guess and go with that, maybe 1-2 minutes to respond. 

But when the girls got a tough question Heather would start the painful process that went something like this.

Q: What city did Leonardo DaVinci come from?

Heather: I don’t know, do you girls? It could be Rome, he was an Italian, maybe it was Rome, what are some other cities? Venice, maybe it was Venice, I think it could have been Venice, does Venice sound right? Or Turin, where is Turin? Or Milan maybe, that sounds like it might be right, what do you think girls? I’m leaning towards Milan, how about you? Shall we go with Milan? Or can you think of anywhere else, are there any other Italian cities we haven’t thought of? Naples is another one, maybe it was Naples, what do you think? 

We better decide on an answer, shall we go with Naples?

Another voice: Florence is in Italy isn’t it?

Heather again: Oh yes, Florence is a good suggestion, it could be Florence, what do you think? Is it Florence? I think it might be Florence, shall we go with Florence girls?

 

This is not an exaggeration, if anything I have understated it! 

 

And the answer of course was Florence.

This happened time and time again! If they were keeping stats for time in possession, the girls would have had the “ball”/question for at least twice as long as the boys. The games went on for hours and people gradually bowed out until there were just the diehards left, and Cam never deserted his brothers once. I miss those nights.

 

The program wasn’t important, it was always the connections, the talking and sharing, the praying and singing, the mutual understanding and appreciation of what we all did and the different ways in which we did it that made the retreats so worthwhile and memorable. 

 

When Youthcare grew too big to run retreats Cam and I decided to act and we started running retreats for chaplains ourselves, at Busselton, on the Holy Mile. About a dozen people came and we spent a lot of time talking, sharing our experiences, praying for one another and connecting through our common roles. Of course, there was also a lot of laughter and fun, trips to galleries and beaches in the beautiful south-west, and plenty of food and conviviality. Needless to say, there was Trivial Pursuit as well. Sadly we only got to run ours for two years, the second one coming just before I lost my job.

 

Louise and Cameron

With 2 of the girls, at our place

Another joint effort with Cam was editing and producing Capella, the newsletter of WASSCA- West Australian State School Chaplains Association. Along with Andrew Paul we would get together once a term to write and compile stories and articles about chaplaincy as experienced by the 100+ chaplains who were working in schools around WA. Cam is a writer and said on more than one occasion that there should be a book written about school chaplaincy in WA. There is a wealth of stories that could be shared. I hope it happens one day. Writing, printing, binding and distributing Capella was a big job and the three of us worked very effectively to make it happen for several years. I still have all the issues of Capella in a box in the shed.

 

I have always been an initiator and one of my proudest accomplishments was bringing together a group of mates in chaplaincy to form the CFFL- Chaplain’s Fantasy Football League. I had learnt about fantasy footy at Carine, thanks to Scotty Underwood and I knew I had to get my mates involved. Cam joined immediately and nearly 20 years later, the CFFL is still going strong. The events and stories have taken on mythic proportions and when we get together for the annual Winner’s Dinner, the legendary tales are repeated and embellished. I will write more about it in a future chapter of 60 in 60 but I need to mention the founding member coaches of the CFFL because they are amongst my closest and most treasured mates.

Along with Cam there was Darren Birch, Greg Letch, Andrew Broadbent, Warren Haley, Grant Collins and Steve Jansz. The connection I have with these blokes, and a few more who have joined the league since, is unbreakable and priceless. The CFFL is much more than a fantasy footy comp, it’s a brotherhood with deep roots, common history, fabulous memories and a shared love for footy and for one another. In the 19 years of our existence I have only missed the Winner’s Dinner once despite having lived in Victoria for the last 10 years, and the one I didn’t make was thanks to covid. 

One of the Winner's Dinners in Perth at Michael and Rachel's place

 

Not long after we moved to Busselton in 2004, Cam’s parents retired to a beautiful home in Albany. Sadly, Terry died not long after that and didn’t get to enjoy the retirement on earth he had richly deserved. A great number of people travelled to Albany for his funeral and to honour a truly godly man. Cam wrote to me recently recounting some of the stories of his childhood as he watched the genuine and humble way in which his Mum and Dad served the people in their community and reached out with hospitality and love to all. Anne still lives in Albany and we stay in touch, mostly through Cam, although we did get to visit and stay for a lovely weekend in Albany one time when the kids were younger. A couple of years ago Anne came to Melbourne for a conference and Carolyn and I were able to meet her and take her out for dinner in Lygon St. 

Dinner with Anne in Carlton.

I often think of his parents because I see so much of them in Cam. He epitomises everything that is good in a person. When I think of Cam, the word that instantly comes to mind is respect. There are many people that I love and value, whose friendship I treasure, but there are very few people I respect and admire more than Cam. He is a quiet and gentle man, softly spoken but full of wisdom and deep insight. He is a thinker who reflects on life and the world and brings a maturity and wisdom to those reflections. He is a devoted husband to Louise and a loving father to his three daughters and together they make a truly beautiful family. When I want a chat, I call Broady. When I want a laugh, I call Letchy. When I have important decisions to make or events to share I call Paul. But when I want someone wise, someone with empathy, understanding and compassion, I call Cam. We talk about footy and family and work and life as well but I know that if I need wisdom without prejudice, Cam is my go-to man. Yesterday was his birthday (50^th I think). I would have gone to the party but the WA borders are still closed so I couldn’t make it. This small offering is my gift to Cam, a mate who has blessed me time and time again. I love you mate, Happy Birthday.

 

Cam is a long-suffering Fremantle Dockers fan (is there any other kind?) and on this day at Kardinia Park he got a selfie with one of the reasons for that suffering! 

A couple of final anecdotes. Cam and I took a weekend footy trip to Melbourne many years ago and stayed with his mate Dave. We went to a garage sale on the Saturday morning and Cam bought an old metal bucket for a couple of dollars. I’ll never forget him taking it on board the plane home as his carry-on luggage.

 

Possibly inspired by my decision to give Paul the middle name Ablett, when Cam and Louise had kids Cam hoped to have a son so that he could name him Bradman. I told him that he could still have given one of the girls Bradman as a middle name. 

 

Finally Cam, I have not mentioned a certain dog that shall not be named or the vandalism inflicted on one of my chairs at the only CFFL draft ever held in Busselton. 

60 in 60 #27 RYLA and Rypen

 60 in 60 #27    Rotary- RYLA & RYPEN

 

I am reflecting on the last 60 years, and writing 60 blog posts. 30 about people and 30 about events, places, experiences and entities.

 

  

I am not and never have been a member of Rotary, the international service club. But, I have great respect for them as an organisation and a long association with them dating back to 1985. Rotary has clubs all over the world, divided up into districts. There are three districts in WA, 945, 946 & 947. That year, the first after I returned from my time overseas, I was working for the YMCA. Someone gave me an application form for RYLA- the Rotary Youth Leadership Award seminar, an annual leadership training event held in each district. As mentioned previously, I loved going on camps and this sounded like it would be fun. It turned out to be much more than that. For the best part of the next twenty years I was involved with Rotary in one form or another.

 

My RYLA seminar was held at Lake Cooloongup, south of Perth and was directed by Peter “Chook” Henson. About fifty 18-25 year-olds gathered for a week full of fun, but intensive activities. The program included communication skills, group dynamics, initiative challenges, trust exercises, small group discussions and special events. Chook did a great job and there was a fantastic sense of camaraderie between the participants and the facilitators.

The event that I remember most vividly was called the One World Dinner. As we entered the dining hall we were each given a card and depending on the card, were directed to one of three areas for lunch. At first it seemed like a game but it soon became apparent something bigger was going on. A small group sat at a lavishly decorated table and were attended by waiters who supplied an abundance of fancy food and drink to the lucky recipients. A larger group sat at a plain table and after the top table had been catered for, received a plate of plain sandwiches and a jug of cordial. The final, largest group, of which I was one, sat on the floor in a crowded designated area and about an hour later were given one pot of boiled rice to share. No explanation was given. It was up to us to work out what was happening and interpret it accordingly. The whole exercise lasted a couple of hours and it was an emotional and eye-opening experience. To conclude it, labels were attached to the three areas, USA for the top table, India for the bottom group and a second world country for the middle group. When it finished we all sat in a big circle to debrief and discuss what we thought it was about. It was simple yet profound. We had had a brief taste of the disparity in the world, of the inequality experienced each day where millions of people go hungry while a small number of “wealthy” people have more than enough. It led to a lot of intense discussion and reflection and not a few tears. As a new Christian I was deeply moved by the whole thing and felt grateful to the team who had run it for “enlightening” us in such an effective way. I said at the time they should have labelled the top table Australia though.

We were introduced to representatives of the RYLA Association, a group of people who had attended various other RYLA seminars, and many of us joined up. There were lots of great people on my seminar, one of whom, Michelle, became a friend who I’m still in touch with 35 years later.

 

We went to the annual RYLA Association reunion weekend a few months later and I was elected President! For the next few years I was active in the Association and edited the newsletter. We ran a weekend camp for kids called Uncle RYLA each year.

Michelle worked for one of the Rotarians and in 1989 when they were looking for a new seminar director she suggested me. 

 

From 1990 to 1995 I directed six RYLA seminars, mostly back at Lake Cooloongup. I recruited a team of group facilitators and we spent 3-4 months planning and preparing the program. I can’t recall all of them  but amongst my teams over the years were Michelle, Laurie Haynes, Mike Klenner, Kent Pitman, Alex Leitch, Steve Merchant, Khristo Newall, Phil Sparrow (remember that name), Sally Burgess and one special year, Carolyn was able to be part of the team while Mum looked after our kids. Some of the program we copied from our own RYLAs, some of it was new but the main structure centred around small groups where participants could debrief the events of the day or engage in discussion about a range of topics in a safe supportive environment. They became known as D&M groups (Deep and Meaningful). 

We added in a new adventure element to RYLA, taking the participants to Margaret River for three days of camping, abseiling ,caving and a high ropes course. It was a brilliant addition to the program that built a huge level of trust and cooperation as people faced risk and challenge in an atmosphere of encouragement and support. 

Initially we invited guest speakers and presenters  but each year as we refined the program we ran more of the sessions ourselves.

I wanted to include the One World Dinner so I went to see Chook to ask his advice and was shocked when he told me it had not been on their original program, it happened because one of his team suggested it while we were at RYLA! I looked for someone experienced to run it for us, including Terry Tero, whose son Cam is now one of my best mates. Unable to find someone willing or able to do it, in the end I decided to have a go myself. It was a steep learning curve but the OWD became one of the standout activities at RYLA each year. We developed roles within it including  “plants” at the top table and in the bottom group who accentuated their place in the hierarchy. 

For a few years on the penultimate night we joined the participants at another Rotary program, Handicamp, run for people with disabilities, for a disco. It took people out of our comfort zones but was always a highlight of the seminar. 

Directing RYLA was a fantastic opportunity and the feedback each year was incredibly positive, for many people it was life-changing as they grew in confidence and self-belief. 

It also took a huge amount of work and time, as well as sacrifice on behalf of Carolyn and the kids so after 6 years I “retired” as director. I was greatly honoured the following year when I was named a Paul Harris Fellow, the highest honour bestowed by Rotary, named for its founder.

 

My work for Rotary continued though, this time as director of RYPEN- Rotary Youth Program of Enrichment, a weekend camp for teenagers from around Western Australia. It was not aimed at leaders so much as kids who were identified as having potential and who may benefit from a motivating experience. For both RYLA and Rypen, Rotary sponsored them to come and covered all the costs. 

Our motto was “Fun with a Purpose” and I again recruited a team of facilitators to help me run it. My 2ic was Demelza Needham who I later had the privilege of marrying to fellow Rypen team member Greg Ireland. 

While Rypen was not as complex or demanding as RYLA it was still a full-on program that required months of planning and preparation each year. There was more emphasis on fun through games but there were still small groups and challenges. Rather than a One World Dinner, we ran the Money Challenge. It was first suggested by Phil and each year it grew bigger and more impactful. I wrote about it in Chapter 25 about Carine because I ran the Money Challenge on the Year 10 Leadership Camp. By the final years, campers were contributing $10 each, making a final “prize” for the winner of $600-700 thus generating plenty of interest! The camp started on a Friday night with ice breaker games then after dinner, Men in Black, a wide game mimicking the movie where the team dressed, and danced!, as the MIB and the campers were the aliens trying to escape. 

Saturday morning the team would take off, don disguises and hide, trying to avoid being caught by the campers in a game we called “Armadale Fugitive”. If discovered, campers had to sing the line of a current pop song and the fugitives had to sing the next line to verify capture. More than once unsuspecting shoppers were confronted by groups of excited kids randomly singing to them. My most memorable disguise was to hide inside a fridge box outside an electrical retailer and watch kids passing by through a peephole.

 

After lunch the groups were taken through a series of physical and mental problem-solving activities in the Adventure Journey. Borrowing ideas from American organisation, Project Adventure, games such as the Spider’s Web and Nuclear Reactor were fun as well as opportunities to learn about leadership, teamwork and cooperation.

 

Sunday mornings were given over to art and creativity as we screen printed T-shirts, made badges and modelled with Fimo to create cool souvenirs and mementos of Rypen. The last session was devoted to more games such as Wink Plague Murder before culminating in Police and Protestors which involved all the males huddling in a group clinging to one another while all the girls tried to separate and drag them away from the rest of the boys. It was a sweaty and wild way to finish a fantastic camp for the kids.

 

For the team it was not quite over. 

 

At the end of both RYLA and Rypen, the last evening was the much anticipated debrief and affirmation session where we talked through all of the elements of the program to gauge their success or otherwise. It was rare that something hadn’t gone well but there were times when we had to acknowledge mistakes and failures. At the end of the debrief we took time to give feedback and affirmations to each other, a process that built confidence and belief as well as issuing challenges to further growth as leaders and facilitators.

 

I ran Rypen for eleven years before a change in leadership at Rotary resulted in them choosing to run the camp themselves rather than contracting it out to directors and teams like ours. It was a sad end to a fantastic chapter in my career of working with teenagers.

I had many wonderful team members over those 11 years and I am grateful to them for the time, effort and hard work they put in each year.

 

60 in 60 #26 Chris

 60 in 60 #26    Chris

 

I am reflecting on the last 60 years, and writing 60 blog posts. 30 about people and 30 about events, places, experiences and entities.

 

Around the time I started working with Fusion in Perth in 1989 a few other youthwork opportunities came up. One was as coordinator of the Chip Inn drop-in-centre at Warwick Church of Christ (a forthcoming chapter) and the other was at the KGB! Not the infamous Soviet spy agency, but rather, Koondoola-Girrawheen-Balga, a program that worked with disaffected and at-risk teenagers in one of the lowest socio-economic areas in Perth, seeking to get them back to school or into other positive programs. I began working with them two days a week and shortly after, the program’s name was changed to SPYE- Support Program for Youth Education. We worked with a small group of kids for a term teaching literacy and life-skills and linking up with other youth agencies in the area. One of those was a youth health service run by a nurse, Chris Vye. She was very supportive of the program and ran sessions on sex, drugs and associated health issues with our kids. She was not so impressed when one of the kids hit her in the head because she hadn’t done the required thumb to forehead protective measure after someone burped! I may or may not have introduced this immature game to the SPYE kids! (Sorry Chris!)

 

One of the first things I learnt about Chris was she was a big West Coast Eagle fan. This led to a fierce rivalry and a lot of banter due to my love of Geelong and dislike for West Coast. They were Geelong’s nemesis in the early 90s and Chris was not shy about reminding me or rubbing it in, especially after the 92 and 94 Grand Finals. Despite this we became friends, especially so when she met Carolyn. They have developed a strong friendship in its own right. One night Carolyn made me put on a blindfold and drove me to a mystery destination. We arrived to a special dinner prepared for us by Chris at her place

in Balcatta. 

 

I moved on from SPYE and Chip Inn when I got the job at Carine and Chris headed to the north-west of WA to work at Wiluna and later at Hall’s Creek. She loved working with the local Indigenous population but it was challenging work, dealing with the impact of alcohol, violence and decades of racial prejudice and abuse.  Understandably she took every chance to get away to Broome whenever she could, a lazy 7 hour drive! 

 

Chris returned to Perth and then headed south, all the way to Esperance, where she still lives and works as a regional community nurse Manager. She is a dedicated professional with genuine concern for her clients and staff.

 

Esperance is a beautiful part of the world but a long way from Perth and the footy, the arts and music. Chris’ escapes now took her north to Perth or east to see her Mum and family, to Sydney for nurses’ reunions, or to her favourite place, Melbourne Park and the Australian Open tennis. 

 

We were living in Busselton by now and chances to catch up were rare, only happening if we both happened to be in Perth at the same time. It’s one of those friendships that has strengthened and been maintained despite the distance, via email and snail mail, texts and Facebook messenger.

We have a mutual love of sport, share the same political views and an appreciation for good writing and journalism. Many times I’ve opened the mail to find a newspaper cutting or a cartoon Chris has sent me, knowing I’ll appreciate it, and my email inbox has a folder full of interesting articles and stories Chris has sent me. Each one reminds me that she is thinking of me and valuing our friendship. 

We will never see eye-to-eye regarding our footy teams but I love the banter and commentary during the footy season as we share our passions and frustrations. Ironically, while she has no love at all for Geelong, she is absolutely smitten with Tom Hawkins! So much so that I made her a sticker, “I Love Tomahawk”. I love Tom too, but not in the same way Chris does!!

 

Chris loves rugby and has a very high opinion of the code and its gentlemanly conduct and respect for the referee, but has no time for one of my great loves, soccer, nor does she share my love of Gridiron.

 

One year we decided to break with tradition and forego the family Christmas for some time away at Esperance. Unfortunately Chris had already made plans to go east and wasn’t going to be home but generously offered us the use of her house to stay in for the week. We had a lovely time but it was disappointing not to see her on the rare occasion we were in Esperance. 

 

Another way we differ is that I am not a dog person (or any pets in fact) but Chris loves dogs and always has a beloved four-footed friend in her life. I see pictures and stories of Lily, and of Bella before her and I know they give her a lot of love and companionship. Chris loves photography, particularly Australian flora and fauna, the coast and the bush.

 

When we were moving back to Victoria in 2010 the kids and Carolyn flew and I drove, with my mate Alex as co-driver and companion. We went via Esperance and spent a great night with Chris before we set off on the long journey across the Nullarbor.

 

Since we’ve been in Victoria Chris has been over many times, sometimes staying with us and sometimes inviting us to come and stay with her in an apartment in Melbourne so we can go to the tennis together. She has been wonderfully generous, shouting us tickets to the tennis and last year taking us to the Women’s Final. Sadly, Ash Barty lost in the semi, we had been hoping to see an Aussie victory.  Chris loves Rafa Nadal (who I call Wedgie Boy) while I prefer Roger Federer. In between days at the tennis there are meals at quality restaurants and shopping expeditions for her and Carolyn. 

 

When I turned 50 Chris came over to join the celebrations with a few of my friends, a great weekend of fun, food and footy. I had just started painting and drawing, revealing an artistic side I didn’t know I had and Chris gave me an easel for my birthday to encourage me to pursue it. 

We’ve gotten to a couple of games at the G and she keeps imploring me to come over to WA so we can go to a game at the new Perth Stadium together. In fact, Chris was one of the lucky people who got to go the Grand Final in Perth this season, courtesy of her brother who is a Melbourne member. When covid is finally subdued and life returns to something like normal I will indeed go back to WA and a date at the footy.

 

As I reflect on my friendship with Chris it is interesting to see that while we have much in common, we have just as many differences, in tastes and opinions. What we have above all is a true love and respect for one another. Chris has been a caring and compassionate friend, generous and giving, fiery and funny, outspoken and obstinate, loving and loyal. 

I don’t always agree with her but I love the dialogue and connection we share. 

60 in 60 #25. Carine Part 3

 60 in 60 #25    Carine Part 3

 

I am reflecting on the last 60 years, and writing 60 blog posts. 30 about people and 30 about events, places, experiences and entities.

                                        The inimitable Bruce Boelen

I spent eleven years as the chaplain at Carine SHS in the northern suburbs of Perth, from 1993 to 2004. It was a homecoming for me as I spent my final two years of high school at Carine. It was the best job I’ve ever had. As described in Carine parts 1 & 2, there were a lot of serious and heavy times at Carine, along with some spectacular successes. As the inaugural chaplain I had a lot of freedom to shape the role in my own image as it were! This is a snapshot of some of the ways I was able to do that.

 

With a love of camping and an interest in leadership training I was drawn to the Peer Support Program that involved training year 10 students to be mentors to the incoming year 8s at the start of the school year. I took over the program, renamed it the Student Mentor Program and initiated the Year 10 Leadership Camp as the core training experience. I was already directing a camp called RYPEN for Rotary and used the program from it as a template for the year 10 camp. It grew in popularity and size each year as more kids wanted to get involved.

 

On the first day we took the kids abseiling off the grain silos near Rockingham for some confidence building and trust. This was always a highlight, except for the year  the school bus I was driving ran out of diesel as we left the silos. By the time we got fuel and back under way it took a couple of hours to get to the campsite, a drive that usually took 20 minutes!

At night we played a wide game called Colditz around the Woodman Point campsite. The students were ‘prisoners of war’ who needed to retrieve parts of an escape kit hidden around the campsite while evading capture by the ‘guards’- the teachers and I. Chasing screaming teenagers through the bush basically!

 

During the day we did leadership training activities: small discussion groups, trust games and communication exercises to prepare them as mentors. 

After dinner we played “The Money Game” a values clarification exercise where each kid put in a dollar and then they had to decide as a group what they wanted to do with the money through a process of consensus decision making. It was a time-consuming process as students argued the merits of various causes. Someone usually suggested the money be put to a party for everyone before more “worthy” causes won the day. In the first couple of years the money went to a charity of some kind which was fine but I decided we needed to up the ante. First, I increased the amount of money the kids put in, from $1 to $2 then to $5 and eventually $10. With somewhere close to a hundred kids on the camp in the last couple of years I ran it, the total amount in the kitty was close to a thousand dollars. Secondly I made the rule that it had to go to a student in the room rather than a charity and thirdly the money couldn’t be split or shared. I started the game by saying, “Who wants the money?” This changed the dynamics, especially when kids realised they had the chance to go home with several hundred dollars! It was great the way real and worthwhile requests were made and discussed as to why individual kids should get the money. Kids shared real needs and circumstances for which the money would be very helpful. Slowly 2-3 deserving recipients would emerge and gain support from the group. It then came down to consensus, it couldn’t be decided by a vote. The process was slow and challenging but respectful and ultimately satisfying. When an impasses arose I would say “The group seems to be leaning toward x. Even though you may prefer y or even z, can you live with x getting the money?” Eventually the group would come to consensus and someone would be given the money. A couple of times the group could not single out one recipient and insisted that I let them split the money. After a couple of hours of intense advocating and listening it seemed reasonable to do so. After one particularly intense version I heard some kids saying “This is not a game!” and I realised they were right so from then on I called it ‘The Money Challenge’. I always made a point of talking to the parents of the kid who got the money to assure them it had all been above board. I don’t remember all the kids or the causes but I do remember one year the money went to a boy who was a dancer for him to buy new ballet shoes, an impressively enlightened decision by the group at the time.

 

The second year of the camp my mate John Hackett told me about an idea he’d seen at another school and suggested we do it on the camp. It involved contacting all the parents before the camp and asking them to write a letter to their son or daughter to be given to them at the camp. The letter should affirm their child and talk about their character and attributes, the things they recognise, and admire, and the feelings they have for them. I loved the sound of it and we went for it, but there were some unintended consequences. 

. After a long and tiring day culminating in the intensity of The Money Challenge, we gave the kids the letters before bedtime and encouraged them to find a quiet place to read them. They were reading the sincere and heartfelt thoughts and feelings of their parents who were expressing their love for their children and kids were deeply moved, to the point of tears. In fact, within a couple of minutes the campsite was awash with tears!! Kids were crying all over the place! I looked at John and said “You didn’t tell me this would happen!!” 

The kids were very grateful for the letters but I learnt my lesson and in future years we did it after lunch instead of at night and not after The Money Challenge. Even under these more controlled conditions it was always a highly emotional exercise. Many kids thanked me and rated it as the best thing at the camp and it wasn’t just the kids who appreciated it, many parents thanked me for the opportunity to write the letter and for the closeness it had prompted in their relationship with their teenager.

 

Every year the camp was a huge hit and one year a group of year eleven students who’d been on it the previous year came to me asking for another camp. I was happy to accommodate them but I told them it would have to be something very different in style. Thus was born the Year 11 Leadership Camp which evolved into the Cool School Race Camp. It started small the first year, with 24 kids split into three groups, each with a staff member accompanying them on an urban orienteering exercise that lasted for three days. Born out of a simple exercise I’d seen on another program called SPYE and similar in style to the tv show The Amazing Race, the groups had to navigate their way around the city via public transport and find public art, statues and sculptures and all sorts of landmarks, and take pictures of them to prove they’d found them. Each picture was worth points according to how difficult they were to find. The staff were there only as supervisors not leaders and they were not allowed to tell the kids where to go or what to do, to answer questions or lead the groups. The students were responsible for all their own decisions- and consequences! 

Each student had a strict budget of $30 for the camp, from which they had to pay for all their transport, food and expenses except for dinner on the second night when we bought pizzas for everyone. Managing their money was a challenge in budgeting and priorities. Watching groups argue about whether to spend 99c on a bottle of home brand lemonade or a loaf of bread was funny. Completing  each challenge on the camp earned points and this included the teams that had the most money left at the end. Most groups worked out that it was better to pool their money and share their resources, usually choosing one person to be the holder of the group’s funds. The most memorable money incident happened one year when within an hour of the camp commencing I got a call from a student to say he had left his wallet on the first bus they’d caught and had lost all of the group’s money. 

I said, “What do you want me to do about it?” 

He asked where they would get replacement funds and was shocked when I said, there were no replacement funds, they were responsible for all of their actions and decisions and their consequences and they would have to work out what to do about it! To their great credit they rose to the challenge and survived for three days by begging, busking and bartering their way around the city. They discovered that shopkeepers could be quite sympathetic and supportive when they learned the students were on a leadership camp and ended up with an abundant supply of donated food.

 

To add to the challenge, students had to carry everything with them in backpacks, and, they didn’t know where they were going! By that I mean, they weren’t told where they were camping each night, they had to solve a series of puzzles and clues in order to work out their destination. The first year they camped at a traditional campsite but in subsequent years campsite one was usually a league football ground such as Perth Oval or Perry Lakes stadium with the kids sleeping in tents. There were lots of challenges on the camp but in another example of unintended consequences, late one night at Perry Lakes the sprinklers came on and started soaking kids’ gear, their tents and them. When I booked the stadium nobody had thought to tell the maintenance staff to turn off the sprinkler system for the night! 

The teachers were certain I had done it on purpose and the fact that I was sleeping in the grandstand only heightened their suspicion, but, even though I had made the camp as challenging as I could, I had not gone to that length! Ironically, the next time we used Perry Lakes, a few years later I made sure to tell the booking agent that the sprinklers had to be turned off on the oval in the middle of the running track. I was sure I’d taken care of everything but to my dismay, late that night, the sprinklers came on again but this time, only on the grassed area surrounding the oval! They had turned off the main sprinklers but not the perimeter ones and sure enough, a few kids had set up their tents in the “wrong” place. John Hackett was now 100% certain I was guilty! 

 Year 11 campers at Perry Lakes, before the sprinkler incident.

For campsite two I arranged for the campers to stay the night at a school somewhere in Perth with the kids sleeping in the gym. Again they didn’t know where they were going and the clues were to be found on a puzzle on the internet. First they had to solve a cryptic puzzle to obtain a phone number which they rang to get the web address and password they needed. Each question on the puzzle had to be answered by surfing the internet to find information. The answers were the password to the next question. Once they had solved all the questions they were given addresses of places such as businesses from which they could obtain the location of campsite two. I enlisted people all over Perth to assist with the camp. 

One year my friend Sally had the answer on her answering machine and she delighted in listening to the kids’ messages as they desperately sought the answer they needed. I should mention here that the kids were not allowed to use mobile phones and could only use phone booths to make calls (remember them?). Many business owners  were very happy to be part of the adventure and to deliver the highly prized envelopes containing the campsite location to triumphant groups.

 

On the final day of the camp we relieved the kids of their backpacks as they set off on the final race segment of the camp. They received a series of clues revealing their next checkpoint and a set of challenges to complete at each one such as bowling two strikes at a tenpin bowling alley, hitting a hole-in-one at a mini golf course, paddling a kayak across the river or assembling a model made out of plumbing parts at Bunnings. It was a desperate race to the finish line at the end of an exhausting three days. Each year I tried to come up with new challenges and ideas for the camp. One year the location of campsite one was in a display ad in The West Australian newspaper but my finest moment was convincing Myf Warhurst to announce the clue on her radio show on Triple J. To ensure the groups tuned in I hired a plane to tow a banner behind it and fly up and down the Swan River at a set time. The banner read, “Listen to Myf on JJJ between 11-12.” 

 

The camp grew in size and popularity every year and, as its reputation spread other schools wanted to get involved. By the time I last ran the camp there were over 200 students and 35 staff from 6 schools participating. The feedback from students was invariably positive with kids saying it was the most challenging and memorable experience of their school lives. The final validation came from parents who rang or wrote to me to say their son or daughter had not stopped talking about the camp for days. 

 

There were many funny memories but my favourite was the day John called me to check whether the picture of the castle the kids were looking for was near Armadale? Remember, teachers were not allowed to give information, directions or answers, the kids were in charge whether they were right or wrong. I confided to John that , no, it wasn’t near Armadale. He said, I’m walking down the SW Highway, it’s 40 degrees, the kids are going the wrong way and I’m not allowed to tell them am I? “You know the rules John!” “You bastard” he replied before I hung up!

 

Bridge swinging on the Challenge Adventure Program prompted the police to ask what we were doing!

I was always open to opportunities at Carine. I initiated the Challenge Adventure Program, aimed at boosting the confidence of kids with low self-esteem by taking them on a series of adventure activities such as abseiling, mountain biking, hiking, camping and bridge swinging. One day we took the group canoeing on the upper Swan River. All seemed to be going well until a couple of hours into the paddle the river kept getting narrower which didn’t make sense. Eventually we pulled up on the narrow bank and I got out to investigate and discovered to my dismay that we had gone the wrong way on the river and were miles away from our intended destination! This was in the days of the brick mobile phones and I had the embarrassing task of ringing the school to say the kids would be late getting back! By the time I got a lift to where we had left the bus, drove it back to the kids and they had carried the canoes several hundred metres through a vineyard to load them on the trailer and then drove back to school we were nearly three hours late! The weirdest part was that neither the other teacher or I thought we were going the wrong way, the water seemed to be flowing in that direction and we were none-the-wiser until the river became a creek!

 

Laurie Haynes and his two boys, Travis and Beau.

My mate Laurie Haynes who was chaplain at Rockingham HS had been to America and experienced a 30-day wilderness hike with at-risk teenagers. He was keen to start something like it in Western Australia and enlisted my support along with Steve Gallagher from Como HS and thus the Wilderness Intervention Program was born. We did two reconnaissance hikes in the Stirling Ranges in preparation and then took six kids on a ten day hike, starting from the eastern end up the aptly named “Misery” then hiking along the ridge, over the Three Arrows before culminating at Bluff Knoll, the highest point in WA. The philosophy of the WIP was non-direct intervention, with natural consequences being allowed to shape the kids’ choices and responses. The participants were identified as being ‘at-risk’ and the hope was that the wilderness experience would challenge them and their models of behaviour and attitudes towards themselves and other people.

The WIP was memorable for two reasons. The first was that two of the kids rebelled because it was so hard and they were well out of their comfort zone. So much so in fact that they did a runner! We were forced to change plans and go in pursuit of them. Laurie was like a wilderness guru and anticipated their every move, deducing that they would descend the third Arrow track and head back to the place we were dropped off. The kids didn’t know we had a phone and he used it to contact the local police. Much to their horror the cops were waiting for the runaways at the bottom of the track! We caught up to them a couple of hours later, further souring their mood! Because they had taken off we were obliged to contact their parents to let them know what had happened and to seek their permission for the kids to stay on the program. The parents agreed that it would be better for them to continue than to “take the easy way out”. We didn’t tell the kids we had spoken to their parents and they breathed blue murder when we told them they weren’t going home and that they would have to continue to the end. 

One was so incensed that he demanded we call his mother and that she would come down straight away and pick him up! (A four hour drive.) 

I said I thought she would want him to complete the program and he swore that I had no idea what his mother would want. 

I replied, “I think I know more about your Mum than you give me credit for!”. 

 

When their anger finally subsided they had a change of heart and committed themselves to finishing the hike with a positive attitude. 

 

Hiking and abseiling in the Stirling Ranges

The second thing to happen came at my expense. After a tough hike through dense scrub to the top of one of the peaks in the Stirlings the boys all sat down on the rocks for a drink. For reasons I can’t really explain, I chose that moment for what was supposed to be a little joke. Taking a few jogging steps and uttering the fateful words, “I’ve carried this parachute long enough” I pretended I was going to jump off the rocks and go papa-gliding! Unfortunately I under-estimated how much momentum I would reach with a heavy backpack on a slippery slope and suddenly I was falling and tumbling down the hill crashing through the scrub and coming to a rest several metres down the hill. Laurie and Steve were just as stunned as the boys at this sudden turn of events. Sadly for me I broke my arm in the fall along with several cuts and bruises and a fat lip. The boys saw this as their ticket home, believing we wouldn’t be able to continue with me being injured. It was with a certain amount of macho pride that I told them we weren’t finished and that I would carry on with my arm in a splint and a sling. 

I needed help getting my pack on and off but other than that was able to continue and we duly finished the trip two days later.

I did another WIP the following year, hiking and canoeing on the Blackwood River near Walpole. Thankfully there were no mishaps or pranks gone awry on this one.

 The WIP kids and staff at the end of the trip, me bearing the scars of my mishap.

During the school holidays I often organised activities for the kids. The most ambitious was a 24 hour challenge that started with a bike ride around the Swan River from Perth to Fremantle and back followed by dinner at Sizzler, the much-loved and sadly missed buffet restaurant. After dinner we went to a movie before heading off to Zone 3 to play laser tag from midnight to 6am! Onto Macca’s for breakfast before delivering the tired but happy kids back to school (and going home to bed!).

 

One last memory/confession about my time at Carine. 

After one of our Grand Final victories in the Channel 7 Cup I took the footy team to Zone 3 for a 3 hour session ending at midnight. It was a very hot night and after I drove them back to school and parked the bus I felt like going for a swim in the school pool. The kids had all gone home and I had a key to the pool. It was after 1am and feeling daring I decided to become, what I felt fairly safe in saying, the only chaplain ever to go skinny dipping in their school pool! Remember those unintended consequences?  There was no-one around, it was dark and late, it was safe surely? I stripped off and headed for the diving board when all of a sudden the floodlights came on! Unbeknownst to me there were trip light switches installed on the pool floodlights!!!! I quickly jumped in the pool and enjoyed a more modest cool off than planned!

 

My years at Carine were wonderful, all the more so because of the fantastic staff I worked with and the friendships I made.

The support of the churches and the district council enabled me to do my job and Barb, the council chairperson was invaluable both professionally and personally.

 Taking Jim Selkirk abseiling off the top of Observation City on a staff PD Day.

The school principal, Cesare Digiulio was outstanding and a great supporter of the chaplaincy. I loved to joke that I was the only chaplain who could legitimately serve both God and Cesare! I still ring him occasionally for a chat and he has provided glowing commendations for me as a referee.

The office staff were brilliant and helped me out countless times when I was trying to beat a deadline or get something organised/typed/distributed.

I worked closely with Chris the school psych and Gina the YEO on student services programs including running Drugs in Perspective for parents and we made a great team.

I always needed staff support to run the camps and never had any trouble getting teachers to help out. 

The Year Coordinators were among my closest allies, people like Tony Williamson, Paul Moore, Rob Tozer, John Hackett and Mike Denby were great to work with. 

I found my closest friends in the Phys Ed dept. Scott Underwood was my main supporter with the footy teams and we became mates, playing beach volleyball together. I credit Undie with introducing me to the joys of fantasy football. He was part of a comp at another school and I immediately said we had to get one started at Carine. It ran for many years and built a great camaraderie between us all. In turn, that led to me instigating the CFFL- Chaplain’s Fantasy Football League- with a bunch of  footy-loving fellow chaplains. I will write more about the CFFL in a future chapter but suffice to say here it is still going strong nearly 20 years later.

 

My closest mate at Carine was a larger-than-life character, Bruce Boelen, a phys edder and year coordinator. We did stacks of stuff together: abseiling instructing on the year 9 camp and outdoor ed, hiking and rafting camps on the Avon with SU, the year 10 and year 11 camps, the prefects camp, sport and student services programs. He’s a very funny man and we laughed so much when we worked together. Late nights on camps were memorable and because we had established so much trust he was very supportive of me and opened the floor for me to have an open forum around the campfire where kids could ask any questions they wanted in a safe and comfortable environment. After I moved to Busselton I often stayed at Bruce and Lisa’s place- in the Holt wing- when I came up to Perth, and I still enjoy catching up with him when I get over to WA. I was genuinely touched when he wrote on my farewell card, “What do you do when your best mate leaves?” I love Bruce, a truly great bloke.

 

There were also hundreds of great kids I met and worked with over my 11 years at the school.

John told me recently that he had run into a bunch of kids from the footy team at the pub a couple of nights before and they had asked after me and wanted to know how I was going. It was a huge privilege to serve the school in that capacity for over a decade and it was with a lot of sadness, and fabulous memories that I bid farewell to Carine in 2004.

 

Believe it or not, there is a lot more I could say about my time at Carine but I need to move on.