27/05/2026
There have been extensive flooding rains, and everything is lush and green. The tall grass, as far as the eye can see in every direction, sways gently in waves.
As you approach Cloncurry, the landscape changes dramatically.
After having just driven thousands of kilometres through the wide open, flat, treeless, grass plains of Central Queensland, the difference is striking.
Bright red, rocky outcrops burst from the vivid green, with impossibly blue skies as the backdrop, and the flat plains are now rolling hills, as the highway weaves its way around and through dramatic mountain ranges, and river carved gorges.
I have a three hour drive north from Cloncurry, to my youngest daughter, Matilda.
The last hour of that drive is the dirt driveway into the station, from the sealed highway, however Tilly has warned me that the driveway is flooded and impassable, and so she has given me an alternate route through a neighbouring property which shares a boundary fence.
Tilly’s directions are exceptional, and I take the turn off the sealed highway onto the red dirt road. I drive for about thirty minutes on mostly hard packed dirt, with occasional red muddy patches, deeper into the neighbour’s property, before eventually coming to the cattle grid, that crossing brings me onto Tilly and Ben’s cattle station.
I have another half an hour of driving to the homestead.
In half an hour, I will meet Ben, my baby girl’s man, and the soon to be father of my grandchild, Jellybean.
I crack a longneck of Coopers, and enjoy the drive through this gorgeous country, and curious cattle.
Five months earlier, when Tilly announced her pregnancy, Tilly was working on a cattle station north of Cloncurry, in the heart of the Gulf of Carpentaria, and Ben was working on a cattle station in the middle of the Northern Territory, west of Alice Springs.
When the Royal Flying Doctor Service was called to intervene, and delivered Tilly to the hospital in Mount Isa, Ben drove thousands of kilometres across country, through the desert and the middle of the night, to be with Tilly.
A young couple in love, and their life thrown into chaos.
Tilly is discharged from hospital, and the Jellybean is perfectly healthy. She was delivered to the hospital by air, but Ben is now here to drive her the four hours home to her station.
While Ben was in the area, Tilly and Ben were invited to meet with a neighbouring cattle station.
A week later, Ben and Tilly are offered the Management of the Station.
Another few weeks, and they have both moved in together, into their new homestead, on one of the Gulf’s flagship cattle stations.
As soon as Tilly finished school, she took off the Catholic Convent School uniform, and pulled on denim jeans, boots and a hat, and went bush.
From the cattle station west of Birdsville, to Emerald to study, and then on to the Gulf, where she remains.
Ben left home when he was fourteen years old, and as a child moved to the Gulf by himself, and started working on a cattle station a few hours north of Cloncurry.
Through hard work, determination, and no doubt some toughness and resilience, Ben worked his way up to a leading hand role, and on to become Head Stockman.
He then took himself down to Victoria to study at Australia’s most prestigious agricultural college.
And from there, another leadership role, as the Operations Manager of the station in the Northern Territory.
And now, at the age of 25, Ben is the Station Manager of one of the finest cattle stations in Australia. 650,000 acres of God’s Country.
The cattle station that Ben is now the Manager of, is the very same station where he worked as a fourteen year old child in a stock crew, before working his way up to Head Stockman.
Ben and Tilly are home.
A young couple in love, and everything has fallen into place perfectly.
If the Universe wants these two together, who am I to argue with her?
When I drive past the station’s airstrip, I know I am getting close.
The radiant Tilly is waiting for me at the homestead gate.
Is there anything more precious than the embrace of your baby girl?
Maybe the embrace of a grandchild… we will see… I have a few more months to wait.
Tilly tells me that Ben is off somewhere on the property, and she is unsure when he will be back, however he appears on the verandah in minutes.
I am greeted by a tall, strong, and handsome, broad shouldered and barrel chested man. A firm handshake, and a warm smile, from a man who is entirely comfortable in his skin, and knows who he is.
If he was waiting and watching for me to arrive, it was not in anxiousness or nervousness, but out of respect and courtesy.
I am given a tour of the homestead. An enormous, open plan kitchen, dining room, and living room, with windows that look out to the manicured lawns and mature shade trees. Four bedrooms and three bathrooms, with the master bedroom taking up the entire East Wing of the house, with an ensuite and walk in wardrobe. An adjacent nursery for the Jellybean. And a large media room. Wide verandahs wrap around the entire house, with the largest barbeque I have ever seen.
I do my job, and deliver multiple parcels from Matilda’s Granny, Margaret.
Margaret is most excited about becoming a Great Granny, and has been frantically knitting cardigans, beanies, booties and blankets.
She has also been frantically shopping. Bonds singlets, Bonds suits, Bonds leggings. 000… 00… 0… I try to slow her down, and tell her there are years of shopping opportunities to come, however she will not be deterred.
As I was tagging along with Margaret, as she went through every store in Bathurst that might sell something for a baby, I was keeping my eye on teddy bears. I have no idea when I will get my next opportunity to see Tilly, and do not know when I will meet Jellybean, and so this is Pa’s opportunity to look for a teddy bear for Jellybean.
There are gorgeous teddy bears everywhere, of every shape and size, including handmade, unique works of art.
But not one caught my attention.
I pass by dozens… hundreds… of teddy bears waiting patiently to be adopted for their forever child.
We are in one extraordinary shop in Bathurst, and Margaret is busily buying two of everything, and my eyes are running along, and casually rejecting every teddy bear.
Until.
Surrounded by teddy bears.
Is a duck.
DUCK
I picked up the gorgeous, soft duck, and nestled it into the crook of my neck, and this duck gave me the warmest, gentlest cuddle.
I fell in love instantly.
When Tilly and Ben have finished foraging through the bounty from Great Granny Margaret, I have to let go of the duck, so that it can take its place on the shelf in the nursery, excitedly awaiting the arrival of Jellybean.
We go for a walk, and I am given a tour of the entire compound, inside and out.
Outside the compound is the Station Office, adjacent to the enormous, multiple machinery sheds. Sheds for the fleet of Toyota Land Cruiser utes. Sheds for the fleet of Honda XR250s. Sheds for the tractors. Sheds housing the earthmoving equipment; bulldozer, grader and roller, as every year following the wet season, the extensive network of dirt roads around the station require reworking. Mechanical workshop, complete with vehicle hoists and cranes. Helicopter hanger beside the helipad. Fuel tanks for diesel, petrol and avgas.
I will be shown the stockyards and horse round yards in the coming days.
Inside the compound looks like a resort.
The main homestead stands alone, within its fenced, manicured lawns and mature shade trees.
Walk through the gate to the main compound, again with sprawling manicured lawns like golf fairways, and shade trees.
Stand alone houses for the Head Stockman, Leading Hand, Station Cook, Bore Runner, and Helicopter Pilot, as well as a spare guesthouse. All new, all fully furnished and airconditioned.
The Ringer’s quarters are one bedroom apartments, furnished and airconditioned, with ensuites, and again new. A pristine laundry with industrial machines.
The kitchen is incredible. Brand new and fully airconditioned; a sprawling industrial, stainless steel kitchen, with every industrial sized appliance you could imagine. Giant ovens, baking ovens, gas stoves, deep fryers, all covered by extraction hoods. Multiple preparation benches, sinks and dishwashers. Cupboards filled with all the crockery, glassware and cutlery for an army.
A walk in pantry, with shelves stocked like a small town’s supermarket, including a walk in cold room, and walk in freezer, fully stocked.
And a fully equipped butcher’s room, with hanging carcasses, band saws, work benches and chopping blocks, mincing machines and sausage makers.
Adjacent to the kitchen is the airconditioned dining hall, with a table that would comfortably seat thirty, and then a verandah with another dining table for outside dining under the ceiling fans, overlooking the lawns.
We follow the paths that weave through the lawns, and my tour ends at the Social Club in the centre of the compound. Fronted by a sprawling verandah, with tables and chairs under the fans, in the shade. A pool table and ping pong table are also on the verandah, and two flat screen televisions are on the wall playing sport.
At one end is the fully stocked bar, with several varieties of beers, ciders and pre mixed spirits, in large glass fronted ‘fridges, and an ice making machine.
At the other end is the airconditioned media room, with a wall sized flat screen television connected to every streaming service available, PlayStation and XBOX, and leather lounges, loaded bookcase, and a collection of boardgames.
Oh… and a fully equipped and airconditioned gymnasium.
The team are on the verandah, and introductions are made, and I am handed a cold beer.
They gather here every evening after work, for a cold one or two, before going on to dinner in the dining hall.
Tilly, Ben and I return to the homestead.
Ben is cooking dinner tonight.
A magnificent rolled beef roast, complete with all the roast vegetables and gravy. Ben proudly boasts that this is his own beef. They do all of their own kills on the station, and Ben personally does all of the butchering himself. He explains that butchering is his passion, and in another life, he could easily be a butcher as his career.
This man is the complete package.
The next day is my birthday.
Tilly and I are standing over the enormous freezer, as Tilly wants to know what I want this evening for my birthday dinner.
Wagyu T-bone steaks?
Lamb loin chops? One of the neighbours turned up a few weeks ago and gifted two whole mutton carcasses, which Ben then gleefully butchered. The neighbour is sent home with a selection of Ben’s sausages.
Sausages? There is a variety of different flavoured sausages, all made by Ben. A range of beef sausages, and lamb sausages, with a variety of herbs and spices.
Bacon?
Tilly wants to know what I want for my birthday dinner. I ask her to choose, and she refuses and insist that I decide… do you want steak, or chops? Do you want sausages and bacon?
I answer yes… I want steak, chops, sausages and bacon. The lamb, garlic and rosemary sausages please.
And so that evening, Ben and Tilly proudly cook me a magnificent mixed grill for my birthday… a birthday I will never forget.
The Station Team is almost entirely new… including Tilly and Ben.
The Helicopter Pilot has been there for a while, as has the Bore Runner. The Bore Runner is responsible for travelling the entire property to ensure that there is a constant supply of water to the cattle, routinely checking the water bores, pumps, tanks and dams, and so it is essential that he has a strong working knowledge of the entire station.
The Head Stockman is new to this station and this team, however has extensive experience in the Gulf, and has worked with Ben before.
The Leading Hand is new to the team, however has a few years of experience on other stations in the gulf. Apparently he is the Gulf’s most eligible bachelor… tall, blonde, blue eyed, tanned and strapping.
The Station Cook is well experienced and highly regarded; Tilly poached her, and brought her with her from the previous station.
The Grader Driver doesn’t arrive for a couple of weeks, but he will be a newbie.
And the rest are beginners… young women and men… some fresh out of school.
A blank canvas for Ben and Tilly to build their team.
They have all gathered in the recent week for the start of the new season.
The cattle season in the Gulf generally runs from February to December each year… ish… and the stations close for the wet season, as nothing can be done.
This season is starting a little later, due to the extensive rains and flooding.
During the wet season, Ben and his pilot worked day and night to keep their cattle on high ground, moving them ahead of the flood waters, ensuring no stock was lost on this station.
Many stations in the region were not so lucky, and hundreds of thousands of head were lost to drowning.
After breakfast, Ben has gathered his team at the horse round yards.
The Head Stockman and the Leading Hand had been out early, and have brought in all the horses, about forty in all. The horses have all been out free ranging for the last several months in the good paddock through the wet season, and are being brought in to get back to work.
And one at a time, each horse is brought into the yard for assessment. The brand is read out, and the horse’s history is read aloud from the horse registration book. Ben recognizes most of the horses, and remembers their names and their history, however listens as he performs a physical inspection, and then delegates the horse accordingly.
This mare is old, and has worked hard her entire life… she deserves to enjoy her retirement, and is put in that yard to be released to the good paddock again.
This mare is outstanding, and has worked hard for many years, and would be perfect for breeding, so she is put in that yard to be trucked off to the breeding station for the future generation of stock horses.
This gelding is intelligent, hard working, and feisty, but requires an experienced rider.
This gelding is intelligent, hard working, and quiet and gentle, and perfect for a beginner.
This mare was mine, when I was a young lad… perfect for a beginner.
This one is injured, and requires the vet.
This horse is mine, declares Ben, as he chooses his favourite.
Every horse is assessed, and every Ringer is allocated their horse for the season, as determined by Ben, according to the horse’s personality and the skill of the rider.
We break for morning tea, back in the dining hall.
The Station Cook has prepared an extraordinary spread. Hot and flaky sausage rolls. Hot and melty cheesy spinach scrolls. A chocolate slice, and a vanilla slice. A platter of sliced fresh fruit. Everything freshly prepared from scratch that morning. This is extraordinary, and this is just morning tea. Every day the entire team has a hot breakfast prepared for them, and access to a variety of cereals and fruit. Morning tea every day. A cooked lunch every day. And a hot meal every night. The food is extensive, and restaurant quality.
Back to the round yards, and each Ringer has their new best friend. They are allocated saddles, based on the size of their bottom, and the size of the horse.
And once everyone has their horse, saddle and tack, Ben holds a masterclass on horsemanship.
And it is a beautiful thing to watch.
Ben demonstrates his way, talking while doing. He greets the horse, caressing and whispering as he checks it over, warning the horse through a gentle caress of every movement, as he applies the halter, whispers and caresses as he saddles and tightens the girth strap, and applies the bridle, removing the halter, constantly in harmonious communication with the horse, until he is in the saddle.
He is talking the entire time, coaching his padawans in this dark art, as he goes.
And then he coaches them while he does, bringing the horse to a walk, turning here and there, to a trot, and to a canter.
And most importantly, how to stop.
When he has finished his demonstration, he then takes every beginner through the process, one at a time, patiently and kindly, assisting them onto their horse, and around the yard.
Where was Ben when I was a kid?
… not born yet.
The more time I spend with the future father of my grandchild, the more I like him.
This man is a born leader.
The next day, the Head Stockman takes the Ringers out for their first ride.
And the following day, they are in the saddle at dawn for their first day on the job.
I wake before dawn, and am sitting on the verandah in the dark with a pot of tea, when Ben walks up the steps onto the verandah. He has been out earlier than me, and is now coming back in. The crew have already had breakfast, and are saddling up.
Ben asks me if I want to go mustering with them?
Of course I want to.
I want a horse of my own.
I want an XR250.
I want a helicopter.
But I have a shattered hip.
F**K
I can barely walk.
Ben and I head out in a four wheeler buggy, and we shadow the team, with Ben observing and teaching as the Super Coach.
We have the chopper in the air, one ringer on an XR250 dirt bike, and six on horseback, to muster 3,500 head of cattle.
3,500.
10% of the herd.
This cattle station generally carries 35,000 head of cattle.
The chopper finds the cattle and pushes them to the fences, and to the roads. The motorbike pushes them along the fence to the roads, and the horses meet them along the way, gathering them as we go, until we have this mob of 3,500 head of cattle as one moving beast, and slowly walk them to the stock yards.
The job is done by lunchtime, and everyone is back at the dining hall.
An extraordinary operation.
On their first day of the job.
Ben knows his s**t, and runs a tight operation. They will only get better.
Every evening I get to know the team a little better, over beers at the Social Club. They are good, hardworking, honest young women and men.
On Friday nights, the cook has the night off, and every week Ben cooks a barbeque for his team. The cook has prepared all of the salads, and the meat is waiting there for him, and Ben fires up the barbecue over at the Social Club, as we all stand around and watch, with beers in our hands.
I need to keep reminding myself, that the Station Manager, the captain of this ship, is only 25 years old. He is a leader beyond his years.
Wagyu Scotch Fillets… cooked to perfection by the man… bu**er.
Tilly asks me about my day, and I talk excitedly about my adventures, however lament that I am a cripple… I want to be on horseback… on the motorbike… flying the chopper… I feel entirely useless… a burden.
The next morning, I am sitting on the verandah with a pot of tea, as the sky slowly comes to life.
Ben walks up the steps to the verandah, and asks me what my plans are for the day?
I have none.
See that tree? … as he points to a large tree outside the compound… It is a pest, and I want it gone… some kind of invasive species… it needs to go… can you cut that down for me?
If you insist… with the stupidest grin… of course I can.
After breakfast, I am shown to the chainsaw collection, and I choose my weapon.
The blades are already sharp, but she hasn’t been started in a few months, and takes a bit to wake up.
And I then spend the most glorious morning cutting down a large, apparently pesty, tree.
The wallabies watch on with disinterest.
Every branch is cut into manageable logs, as the ringers come and go in utes to cart the wood away.
After a few hours, the entire tree has been reduced to sawdust, and there is a stump to remind us of where it once stood. Ben cuts some scars into the stump, before filling them with agent orange to kill the roots, and at some point in the future they will drag the stump.
I am exhausted.
This injury is debilitating. I am no longer as fit as I used to be.
I am exhausted. I am in excruciating pain. I am deliriously happy.
I spend my afternoon at the social club, under the fan, never leaving my seat, as the young Ringers take it turns to bring me a cold beer.
Heavenly.
I spend a total of ten days with Tilly and Ben.
Tilly and Ben take it in turns to cook for me. Roast beef. Steaks. Legs of Lamb. Bangers and mash. Chinese dumplings and pizzas… I am in heaven.
I have an appointment with a surgeon coming up, three thousand kilometres away.
And there is another tropical cyclone crossing Cape York and into the Gulf… I need to move on before I get flooded in again.
I will be back before you know it, to meet and hold Jellybean.
Until then… cuddle your ducks.
