I remember that it was the fibro cottage named Kaboora that was our first holiday rental at Point Lookout Stradbroke Island and remained the preferred family holiday choice for much of the 60s. It was a quant little hut with a timber slated front porch, a main mum and dad’s bedroom, a large kitchen dinning and sleep-out room for the boys together with a separate bedroom for my sisters. The walls, whilst providing some definition between the rooms, did not extend to the ceiling because there was none. Yes folks there was very little protection to help insulate us against those winter chills. They were only kept at bay by the blackened wood fired stove with its belly of fire that radiated heat from the far corner of the small cabin. Other appliances in use at that time included the fridge, which was really just an ice chest. See, a block of ice, purchased from the Durbiges bus garage, was fitted into the top of the box, which did provide cooling for the family’s meat and vegetables stored below until the ice melted away that is. Chilled water had to be obtained from the constant leaching water filled army canvas bag that Dad would string up in the prevailing breeze on the front veranda. The showering system was a pump action self administered torture chamber whilst the toilet facilities with its bottomless pit, rounded out the cutting-edge horror of this ‘back to nature’ adventure holiday experience. Washing clothes was just a primitive scrub with soap and water in the worn out concrete moldered tubs. The wet cloths were then hung out to dry, either on the cloths line leading to the little house of horrors or hung in the timber boarded and enclosed confines of the back concrete patio. Water for all our drinking, washing and cooking needs was provided courtesy of the natural rain and the metal ringed storage tank situated in the back yard. This tank caught all the rain water that fell onto the roof but it also provided a protected development compartment for the wriggler larvae of the annoying Straddie mosquito. So there you have it a complete living existence, all without the luxury of electricity. Now luckily the cottage also did come with two kerosene lamps that lit the living room after sunset, otherwise the day’s fun would have finished at dusk. This light provision did allow for the odd card game to be played in the evenings from time to time when the mood among the siblings was considered congenial. One game called snap involved the laying down of cards randomly onto a centre pile by each player in a circular sequence, until a pair of cards bearing the same value were placed on top of one other. The rules that all of us played under (except David), was that the first hand on the pile after the matching pair was revealed, won the converted pile of cards. David’s reading of the rules differed ever so slightly from ours see his heavy fist would come down so hard on the already assembled and competing hands on the pile, that we would each be forced to drag our smashed hand from the contest for a closer examination of the collateral damage. David would then roundup the cards and sweep them towards himself with a certain well I guess I won that round kind of smirk. Now, none of the younger contestants, nursing their now bruised hands, were about to object see we reasoned that David just had a different view on the concept and meaning of this game called snap. Well Kaboora, being set in a natural bush landscape, had no surrounding and protecting fences in fact, no property at the Point had fences in those days. This meant that any animal could just walk up the front lawn and generally intrude into the activities of the house. I remember the wild tan coloured horse called Banjo making just such a trek in the hope of finding of a little honey to satisfy his desire. He ultimately got from us his sought after reward. Now, I also remember vividly some donkeys from the surf lifesaving club who also came up the garden path with a mind set and desire for much the same sweet outcome. Sadly for these animals they were sent away disappointed, because my sisters instructed me, from under the sanctuary of their beds, to go out and tell them that honey and sweetie were not at home.
