My father Clive Emery loved history, and often recorded local stories, some of which were written up in The Kiama Independent, the precursor to The Bugle. 

Looking through my father’s many stories, I came across a story my great-grandfather recalled from his days at Omega Public School. It makes for an amusing tale.

Before I hand over to my father’s writing I need to set the scene with a number of points.

Firstly: the railway in the 19th Century was a boon to country areas. The South Coast Railway ended at Bombo in 1887. It was proposed to be extended to Bomaderry but there was one problem. The mountains rolled steeply into the sea between Gerringong and Omega flats. 

It meant that five tunnels had to be built. In those days there were none of the boring machines which make tunnelling relatively easy these days. 

Tunnelling required the services of railway workers known as fettlers, who would dig the tunnels using a combination of dynamite and pick axes. They would set up a camp with their families. They were tough, hard men and their families were equally tough. 

While the men worked, their children would attend the local school, in this case Omega Public School, which was established in 1860 to cater for local farm families. The school, originally known as Omega Retreat School, finally closed in 1945. 

It took six years for the railway line from Bombo to Bombaderry. Omega Station opened in 1893.

Secondly: Omega Public School was located in what is now a private house about half down the hill towards Gerringong on the left hand side of the road as you head South. Children would usually walk ( no buses or private cars) to school. After school they would head home and start their chores on the farm. There was no television or computer games back then. 

Many children had dogs. The dog would follow them everywhere, even to school, sitting outside the fence waiting for their owner to return home after school. These dogs had a loyalty to their owner and would do anything to protect them.

One of these children was a boy named James J. Quinn, the ‘hero’ of our story. There have been many great families in Gerringong and one of those is the Quinn family. In sport they have excelled. The most famous was a farmer named Paul Quinn who played for Gerringong rugby league. He represented Australia and later played for Newtown. He used to travel to Sydney from Gerringong for training after milking. The person he travelled with used to complain that on the trip all Paul did was sleep.  

But back to the story as my father wrote it. 

From Clive Emery, longtime Gerringong resident

Prior to my family leaving Omega, the railway, which had formally ended at Porter’s Garden Beach, or Bombo, was in the process of being extended to Nowra. The necessity of quarrying through the rocky spurs running down to the sea caused the planners to baulk, but now the work had begun on the four tunnels. 

The biggest was at the Omega end, and work commenced at either side to meet at the middle. This was achieved with a disparity of only two inches (five centimetres). 

The fettlers pitched their camps at the job, and their children, some 16 years old, attended the Omega, swelling its enrollment to nearly 100. The boys had been reared on hard times, where only the fittest survive. By their numerical as well as physical strength they proposed to take over the school playground. 

Fights almost to the death ensued but the fettler’s sons had not gauged the toughness of the farmer’s sons. The battles raged during every dinner hour down by the fig tree while Richard Hall, the teacher, was at lunch. 

Bruised and battered the game little lads of Omega gradually fell to their bigger opponents, and it was left to James J. Quinn of Omega to uphold the honour of the school. He had to take on the biggest and toughest of the fettlers. It was a fight that had to be fought, and in recollection it is suspected that the teacher, Richard Hall, knew that, and kept wisely and discreetly inside during the conflict. 

There was no cheering that would have brought out the teacher, just a grunting and punching match for the whole dinner hour, while the supporters had bunched into their respective camps to watch.

James Quinn, overmatched by his larger opponent, refused to give in, and fought with the tenacity of a tiger. There was one stage when he tripped on a root of the figtree and his assailant fell on him to deal the killer blow. That was deemed unfair by both camps and they were hauled apart and made to stand up and fight.

Early in the fight James’ blue cattle dog, who always followed the three Quinn boys Tom, Jim and Peter to school, came in to lend support. He rushed in and grabbed the fettler boy by the calf of his leg. With a roar of pain the fettler boy kicked away the dog but he had left his mark. He prowled around at the back of the crowd of onlookers during the rest of the fight, hoping for another opportunity.

It never came. The five minute bell rang and the antagonists were pulled apart and taken to the creek nearby to wash themselves down and prepare for school again.

As for the fight, neither had won. A silent truce manifested itself and the two camps settled into a more or less peaceful coexistence.

From local historian, Mark Emery