“Ask nothing of it and the soul retires, the flame of life flickers, burns lower, expires for want of air. Here, in the midst of all our difficulties, life burns high. Though it seems sometimes that we make no progress towards the ideal, yet the ideal exists, and our energies are directed towards it.” - Charmian Clift in ‘Peel Me a Lotus’ (Muswell Press, 2021) When writer/director Rachel Lane first read Nadia Wheatley’s The Life and Myth of Charmian Clift (HarperCollins Australia, 2002) it was 2002. She immediately fell in love with Charmian and the “amazing, courageous heart that she had,” and she felt she needed to make a film about it. Unfortunately, someone else had the rights to the story, and so that idea was filed away.Twelve years went by, it was 2014, the idea had sat there picking up dust, but also aged with wisdom. The rights to the book suddenly became available and, feeling the same way she felt more than a decade earlier, Rachel snatched them up and began work on a feature film.Another five years went by, it was 2019, and Lane realised she didn’t have the money, traction or interest to make the film in the way that she wanted. And then she was hit with a thought: Why don’t I make it as a documentary? And so, she and co-producer Sue Milliken began work on a documentary about the life of Charmian Clift.Now we are in 2024, 22 years removed from the initial moment of conception, and we finally have the documentary film Life Burns High. Written, directed and produced by Rachel Lane, the film follows Clift’s life from the early days in Kiama all the way to her tragic death in 1969.Lane has since read that book which started it all, The Life and Myth of Charmian Clift, multiple times. Not to mention she has read every article, novel and essay that Charmian ever wrote. She also watched obscure documentary films which feature Charmian in a few scenes, laboured over photos from her family archives, watched the miniseries that she helped write based on My Brother Jack and more. She consumed everything.“In my spare room,” Lane says. “The whole wall is covered with the excerpts (from Charmian’s writings) as I was trying to figure out where they all fit. I promised my partner I’d take them down, but I haven't yet.”Life Burns High had its premiere at the 2024 Sydney Film Festival, and Lane introduced it by thanking everyone that helped her. And then she added a special thanks to her partner.“I then said, ‘on a personal note I’d like to thank my partner Jay for his love and support and being my sounding board.’ And I said, ‘I think he can relate to Princess Diana because there’s been three of us in the marriage: Me, Jay and Charmian.’ Because obviously I’ve carried her with me for a hell of a long time. She’s never far from my thoughts,” said Lane.The two showings that were advertised for the Sydney Film Festival sold out immediately and Life Burns High ended up being chosen for an encore screening.“So out of 200 odd films, there were only five that had quickly sold out and we were one of them. So, off the back of that they do an encore screening for 16 films, and we were selected for one of those encore screenings,” says Lane.Life Burns High chronicles all the major parts of Charmian Clift’s life. Her childhood in Kiama, her first child that she was forced to give up, her time in the war, her affair with writer George Johnston, their marriage, their family, their time in Greece, their move back to Australia and, finally, Charmian’s death.All of this is told through interviews, old images and videos of Charmian, as well as excerpts from Clift’s various pieces which are presented through creative visuals and a voice actor. Lane admits that it was difficult making a documentary about someone who isn’t alive, but she says that once she found a way to put Charmian’s actual words into the film, everything began to click into place.“I always wanted to do it from Charmian’s perspective,” says Lane. “It was about her and it’s from Charmian’s perspective which is why her essays drive the narrative because that’s her voice.“I really wanted to give her her rightful place in life. Because she was always very much overshadowed a little by George’s career, so I guess one of the things I was trying to do was put her forward, and give her her time in the light as she rightly deserves.”As well as bringing Clift’s life to the front, Life Burns High also seeks to possibly deal with the tragic question of her suicide. And one of the ideas it successfully translates is that Johnston, through the act of writing his novel Clean Straw for Nothing (HarperCollins Australia, 1969), committed a double betrayal.In the novel George uses the character that Clift created as an alter ego for herself, Cressida Morley, to illustrate her infidelities in their real-life relationship. Through this act, not only is he informing the public of her sins, but he is also stealing the character that she created and uses her in his own piece, essentially putting her creation under his control.“It’s all about art imitating life and vice-versa and she (Clift) obviously just felt that no one would be able to differentiate, and she was so fearful of what people would think of her. Back in those days that would've been the most horrendous thing you could do,” says Lane.Life Burns High does a terrific job at translating Clift’s fascinating and empowering life to the screen. Lane’s obvious obsession and passion for Clift and what she has done is felt through the screen. And, after a long 22 years of thinking about it, Lane says she is so happy it’s finally moved from her head out into the public.“It’s been a labour of love, but it feels so good to get it out there and now it’s exceeding expectations and as I’ve always suspected there’s a very interested audience in this story which I’ve been trying to tell people for years,” says Lane.Life Burns High will be playing at the Gala Cinema in Warrawong on Friday the 26th of July as part of the traveling Sydney Film Festival.

Born in Newcastle on June 20, 1924 Olive Cook, known as Lee, celebrated her 100th birthday this week with parties across Kiama. There was lunch at Kiama Leagues Club with the Kiama Beachside Ladies Probus Club, a celebration with the Hospital Auxiliary, of which Lee was a member for many years, a morning tea at Kiama Bowling Club where Lee still plays social bowls. And finally to finish off a big week, cake and candles at Kiama Golf Club, followed by a robust few rounds of canasta with friends. Lee has been a card player since she was five years old and plays canasta at the golf club every Friday. She credits playing cards with "keeping her sharp and off the streets". The centenarian, who has a wicked sense of humour, says it was an honour to have her milestone birthday recognised with a letter from King Charles and Queen Camilla."But I didn't do anything except live," she laughs. And live she has, through world wars and epidemics, all while wearing one of her signature hats."The obsession with hats comes from my mother's side," explains Lee. "She was never without one and I've got the sort of hair that needs a hat. I have about 40 of them, for all occasions. My friends are always buying them for me. But disappointingly I only got one hat for my birthday!"Lee, who has three daughters, three grandchildren and a great-grandson, born earlier this year, says she has had "a very fortunate life".The former nurse and her husband moved to Kiama in the 1980s from the family farm in Molong, west of Orange."Once the girls were grown up we sold the farm, retired and came down here to live," she says. "I have had a pretty good life. I can't complain."Lee still lives independently, takes no medication, plays lawn bowls socially, still drives her car, and only recently got glasses "for distance". Last year her family gave her a walking frame, which she has nicknamed The Ferrari. Up until this week The Ferrari lived in the boot of her car and had never been used."When I got the Ferrari I told my family I would use it when I turned 100. I was true to my word."Throughout her nursing career Lee spent much of her time in hospital infectious disease units, and says one of her most memorable moments was when childhood vaccinations were made compulsory. "I was a nurse through a lot of epidemics, so compulsory vaccinations changed the healthcare system for the better,” says Lee. “It was heartbreaking to see babies dying from polio. Compulsory vaccination was a career highlight for me.”Lee has no secrets to longevity, other than having a good laugh and wearing a hat daily. She doesn't drink. "I gave up the grog four years ago, one day I just didn't like the taste of wine anymore." But if she had to share any tips for a long, happy life it would be a positive attitude, playing cards and spending time with family and friends.

Gerringong native Scott Gutterson had been tracking Roxy the octopus for some time. Then, in late March, his mum came over for a visit from Western Australia, and they went down to the Kiama Rockpool. Gutterson and his daughter were taking photos underwater, when he saw her in the little hole where she would stay her whole life.“That’s why I named her Roxy, it seemed like an appropriate name for an octopus in a rock pool,” he recalls. Little did Gutterson, who’s an Emergency Medical Services captain by profession, know that he would come to have the most amazing experience with this creature of the sea.The bluest of bluesA fully grown octopus tetricus, more commonly known as the “gloomy octopus,” Roxy measured one to two metres across, from tentacle to tentacle. (Each tentacle was 45-60 centimetres long.) Octopuses, which belong to the cephalopods, have the ability to change both the pattern and colour of their skin.Gutterson recalls going into the rock pool one night, seeing this intense blue ring around her eye and simply being in awe. “It was captivating,” he says.Popping in for a visit every other day, he’s not entirely sure how he discovered that tapping on a rock nearby would catch Roxy’s attention.“They [octopi] are curious and highly intelligent. With their tentacles, they can taste, touch and smell,” explains Gutterson.“She would wrap one tentacle and then another around my two fingers, and pull. I would gently squeeze them.”Gradually, the octopus became more and more comfortable with him.“Obviously, she thought ‘I recognise this guy. The one with the beard. I’ve spent some time with him and he’s not a threat.’ ”Gutterson encouraged his wife Kellie, who’s also a diver, to go down in the rock pool and interact with Roxy. But the octopus, too shy, wouldn’t come out of her hole.Becoming a mumInitially though, Gutterson didn’t realise that Roxy was pregnant until he noticed white pieces of string, “literally white strings hanging behind her.”He observed her looking after her eggs, and after having them, she never left her home.“She always kept a tentacle attached to the roof or one body part left in the hole,” he says.Roxy was now a mum, looking after her kids. But it wasn’t all swell in the rock pool. A blue-ringed octopus, known to be venomous, had been spotted, sitting on top of one of the ladders. A post about the visitor on the Kiama Community Facebook page caused quite the stir.“They wanted to drain the rock pool. If they did, it would have killed Roxy and her babies,” says Gutterson. He admits actually going looking for it, only to take a photo - not to interact with, he’s quick to point out. In his experience, these very small octopi, ten centimetres across at best, tend to shy away from people. “Boom – and they’re out of there,” Gutterson says.The Roxy movementEvery day, Gutterson swims with the Werri Point Swimmers, south of Gerringong, and spotting octopi has become something of a thing. He refers to it as, “the Roxy syndrome or the Roxy movement.”Just the other day, he says with a laugh, “a friend of mine said, ‘can we go looking for octopus?’ “ Because, as it turns out, there’s plenty of them around. Gutterson says that the natural rock pools provide a safe environment for them.An octopus they’ve nicknamed “Thorpe,” because of the speed with which it moves, saw Gutterson and his friend on the other side of the pool.“It travelled 60 metres across, and through all this weed, to say ‘G’day!’ “ he says, impressed. “That’s what I love about them, they’ll come out and have an interaction.”Because although Roxy sadly is no longer around, adult octopi generally only live two to three more weeks after laying their eggs, her legacy in and around the local rock pools where much lives on.

Local swimmer 17-year-old Ivy Miller, whose long-term goal is the 2032 Summer Games in Brisbane, will swim her first Olympic swimming trials at – that’s right, Brisbane Aquatic Centre –10-15 June.In between school and her daily swim practice, Miller spoke to The Bugle about how growing up on the South Coast has influenced her swimming career, why her role model is Wollongong native and fellow swimmer Emma McKeon and making the Junior Australian Dolphin team.At the 2024 Australian Swimming Trials, which is the most prestigious domestic event on the national swimming calendar and where the Australian Olympic swimming squad will be selected, Miller will compete in the women’s 100 meter, and 200 meter, backstroke.“I’m going into the meet with the main goal of gaining more experience swimming as an open athlete rather than an age group swimmer alongside Australia's world class athletes,” she says.It will also give her an opportunity not just to compete alongside but also to learn from the best swimmers in the country.“While at the trials, I hope to be able to race the best I possibly can, with hopefully swimming some personal bests and making it into a final,” she says.Miller is as home-grown a swimmer as they come. She learned to swim at the Kiama Leisure Centre, and began to swim competitively at the Friday nights’ Kiama Swim Club from around the age of eight.A major influence in her decision to start racing has been the community of swim lovers within, and around, Kiama, she explains.“The South Coast and the Illawarra area has a lot of talented swimmers. I’ve been lucky enough through my competitive career to meet and interact with so many other individuals, who also share the same passion of swimming.”Ivy Miller, an Olympic swimmer in the making. Photo credit: WinkiPoP media.One could also say that watersports run into her blood. Miller’s aunt, Lily Gladstone, and uncle, Greg Miller, are both ex-IronWoman and IronMan respectively, who competed in the Uncle Toby’s Super Series. Her grandma, Geraldine Miller, was an ex-Australian Surf Life Saving (SLS) coach and her dad, Grahame Miller, was a bodyboarder on the world tour.“This naturally led me to be brought into both swimming and SLS as a young girl, but also my parents exposed me to these sports so I would be able to safely enjoy the beautiful coastline of our area,” she says. “Even while just having fun participating in these activities, trying to pursue them competitively was a natural progression for me since I’m a competitive person.”Miller currently swims for the Wests Illawarra Aquatic Swim Club at the University of Wollongong Pool under coach Pat Stellino.She finds her swimming squad to be a major motivator, with everyone working off each other in pursuing their goals.To be committed to her goals is actually one of her main strengths as a swimmer, Miller says, along with being very  driven.“I’m able to get myself up and out of bed in the early hours, get into the cold outdoor pool and put all my energy into having the best possible session I can have, at that point.”Someone who’s shown her that it’s definitely worth putting in the work and effort is Emma McKeon, who made history by winning seven gold medals at the Tokyo Summer Olympics. That is the most medals won by any woman in any sport.“She’s a Wollongong girl that’s now one of Australia’s most decorated swimmers, which is an amazing achievement. She’s also a very kind and humble person, who I’ve been lucky to meet a few times.“It’s also inspiring that she's a local girl, who also started out at Wests Illawarra Aquatic, showing that hopefully I can also do this, too,” says Miller. As she looks to the future, her goals are making the Junior Australian Dolphins Team and/or the Australian Dolphins Team and qualifying for the LA 2028 Summer Olympics or the 2032 Brisbane Summer Olympics. We look forward to seeing her at both.

Kiama optometrist Joan Comber has been helping the community see clearly for more than 40 years. Joan’s business first opened in Edessa Arcade in 1977 before moving into Kiama Centrepoint in 1983. She remains a loyal tenant and was one of the first businesses to move into the centre, which holds many cherished memories for her and her family. Joan’s youngest son, Clayton, learned to walk in Centrepoint’s arcade and played on the floor of her optometry workshop. In a lovely twist of fate, Clayton now runs a cafe and bookshop, Bouquiniste, out of the same space. “I think it's wonderful that things have come full circle,” says Joan. “Clayton finds it quite ironic that all these years have gone by and he's now working in the shop he played in when he was a toddler.”When Joan reflects on her own career of almost five decades, she marvels at how far she has come. Born in Malaysia, Joan and her family emigrated to Australia after her older brother moved here to study engineering.“He told my Mum and Dad he had no intention of coming home, so we all followed him here,”  said Joan, who planned to study medicine. She got the required marks, but six years of university was not financially feasible. So she “played it safe” and started a science degree but found it “quite frustrating”. “There were thousands of us, and it was quite overwhelming,” she says. “So, a friend suggested optometry.” It was 1969 and the class was a small one, with just 11 students. “Our year was quite unusual at the time because 50 per cent of our group was female,” recalls Joan. After graduating in 1973, Joan began her career in Sydney before moving to the South Coast with her husband Arthur in 1976, where she took over the Warrawong Gibb & Beeman franchise. Joan had no intention of opening a second optometry store, but working for a large optical retailer had its challenges. When the opportunity to own an independent optometry business in Kiama came up, Joan took it, as it gave her the chance to provide a more personalised service. "Kiama was always going to be a part-time practice because I was already a franchise owner in Warrawong," says Joan. However, her business was quickly embraced by the Kiama community and, a year after it opened, Arthur quit his job in Sydney to work in the store as an optical mechanic, building, fixing and dispensing glasses.“Arthur was a very practical hands-on person,” explains Joan. “When he was still working in Sydney, I was sending out my jobs to be done to another contractor. It was great to have him come on board and do the practical part of the optics.”Optometry became a family affair. Joan’s sister moved to Australia from England in the late 1970s to help with the day-to-day running of the business. By 2006, Joan decided to focus solely on the Kiama store, with the help of her sister and Arthur."My sister still comes in to help me on a voluntary basis sending out appointment reminders, which I don't really get the time to do,” says Joan. Arthur continued to work alongside Joan until his passing in 2018. She admits it was “difficult to continue without Arthur by her side”, and was grateful when Clayton stepped in to help.  “Clayton grew up watching, then helping Arthur when he was doing the mechanics,” says Joan. “I’m very thankful he continues to do what his Dad used to do for me, as well as running Bouquiniste.”As an independent optometrist, Joan prides herself on making and dispensing glasses with Clayton’s help. She admits dispensing is a dying artform, with big franchises like OPSM and Specsavers sending glasses away to external contractors. “Not many places offer optometry as well as dispensing,” says Joan. “Along with bulk-billing, it's a service I am very grateful to still be able to provide, and the community of Kiama seem to really appreciate that. Clayton has been known to make up glasses and deliver them directly to customers.”Joan credits her loyal customers and a sense of community for keeping her in business for so long. "I still have a passion to do optometry,” she says. “I think it's great to meet all sorts of people and help them with their visual problems. I have built some beautiful friendships over the many years of looking after customers. I have seen things come full circle; people I tested as children have now grown up and bring their children to me. It's quite rewarding in that sense.”Joan says retirement is on the cards, but she won’t be putting her feet up anytime soon.“When I first started working as an optometrist, I thought my retirement age would be 45," chuckles Joan. Whatever the future holds, there is no question that Joan will remain a stalwart of the Kiama community. Each year, from 1984 until 2016 when Arthur became unwell, the family would host an annual Christmas lunch for the community at Kiama Leagues Club.“Clayton and my older son Brendon would entertain those who attended and play the golden oldies for us," laughs Joan. Brendon now owns a sound and lighting company and works part-time at the Kiama Leagues Club as an entertainment manager. Clayton is also a DJ when he finds time between working at Bouquiniste and Joan’s optometry business.“Growing up in Kiama, Clayton and Brendon used to be known around town as Joan and Arthur's sons,” says Joan. “Now the tables have turned and I'm Brendon and Clayton's Mum! It's funny how history works, but I am very proud that they are such an important part of the community. They love Kiama, as do I.”

The GLaM Museum in Gerringong has recently closed its Scouts exhibition. However, don’t worry if you missed it, as the exhibition will now be on display in the main museum for the foreseeable future.The opening was a wonderful event, attended by many former Scouts, Cadets and Girl Scouts. One highlight was a Queen's Scout from 1963 to 1967, Marelyn Embry. She arrived in her original uniform and reminisced about her youth, including receiving a letter from the late Queen Elizabeth II.Artist Trudi Voorwinden, who has been painting since she was 10 years old, spent a week restoring a mural of the Scouts in Gerringong. She carefully preserved the original colours and vision of the artist. Many of the Scouts depicted in the mural have now been identified, and the mural can be seen at the GLaM Museum.Merelyn Emery in her old uniformPresident of the Gerringong and District Historical Society, Colleen Jauncey, expressed gratitude at the exhibition opening. "Thank you to the parents who kept uniforms, memorabilia, and badges. They have enabled us to put this exhibition together," she said.David Hindmarsh, an ex scout himself, also spoke, pondering why the Scouts struggle today. He questioned whether it’s due to the electronic age, a rise in self-interest, people leaving the area for work, or perhaps the popularity of surfing as a hobby. Trevor Nixon, Neil miller, David Hindmarsh, Gary Rodger’s, Ken Mitchell, all ex scoutsHe also noted the historical gender differences in Scout badges, with women's badges focusing on domestic skills including ‘Matron Housekeeper’ and men's on outdoor challenges. David, who joined the Scouts in 1954 at age nine, shared a humorous story about finding frozen uniforms after a soccer game. He laughed, saying he is still tying knots to this day.Despite these challenges, there is still a Scouts group active in the area. Reuben Frost, pictured with his Scout leader Debbie and friend Hugh, meets with the Kiama Scouts at Kiama Harbour on Tuesday afternoons. New members are encouraged to join.Reuben Frost (Gerringong Scouts), Hugh Hassall, Debbie Gibson.This exhibition preserves invaluable memories and history, thanks to the effort of everyone involved. Their work ensures these stories will be preserved for future generations. Thank you to all who contributed.

When Judi Sandilands-Cincotta retired from a decades long nursing career and moved from Sydney to Kiama for a seachange, she had no idea how busy she would be.Judi is a Guide Dogs NSW volunteer and her weekly calendar is fully booked through her work as a therapy dog handler with her five-year-old labrador Ollie. Judi and Ollie visit high schools, courts, libraries, police and ambulance stations across the region to provide smiles, support and comfort to those who need it most.Judi began volunteering in 2018 and has spent thousands of hours teaching and nurturing labradors as a puppy raiser. But in 2020 when COVID hit, the guide dogs training program went into lockdown. “COVID was a real shift for me,” says Judi. “Everything shut down at guide dogs and if you’ve ever tried to train a dog on zoom, well it’s just about impossible. I was fortunate that I was not a new handler, so I had a bit of experience behind me that served me well, but I found the technology difficult.” So, to maintain the training and discipline needed to be successful, Judi set up her garage to mirror external experiences for the dogs, including steps and water hazards. It was during this time that Ollie came into Judi’s life. Ollie was on the Guide Dog Pathways Program with another puppy raiser, but medical issues meant she was no longer suitable. Ollie was rehomed with Judi, who soon realised she would make a brilliant therapy dog, due to her gentle, calm, loving nature. Judi, a former clinical nurse consultant in mental health, knows how beneficial a therapy dog can be to wellbeing. Research has proven that patting a dog can release the feel-good chemicals serotonin and oxytocin, and reduce stress hormones like cortisol. Ollie is now one of the hardest working therapy dogs in the region, visiting Warilla High School’s wellbeing hub each week and spending time with students at Kiama and Bomaderry High every fortnight. After COVID, the need for mental health support in schools increased markedly, with anxiety among students and higher rates of school refusal on the rise. Staff at all three high schools describe Judi and Ollie as “superstars” for the volunteer work they do supporting kids who need a little bit of extra help navigating the challenges of school.Warilla High School’s head teacher of wellbeing, Natasha Clark, says having Judi and Ollie on site for the past three years has provided invaluable support to both students and staff.  Ollie keeps a close eye on her protege Shiko“Judi is amazing,” says Natasha. “Judi and Ollie are such an important part of our school, we consider them staff. Ollie has a school support dog vest, she gets her school photo taken, has a school ID and takes part in events like RUOK Day. Everyone just loves them.”The dynamic duo has now become a trio, with Judi introducing 11-month-old labrador pup Shiko - in training for the Guide Dog Pathways Program - to students so he can learn how to behave in busy environments with both children and adults. Natasha says the positive impact Judi and her dogs have had on students is invaluable and the benefits of the therapy dog program “endless”. “School can be stressful for students and teachers, but as soon as Judi, Ollie and Shiko walk in, everyone who crosses their path smiles,” says Natasha. “You just can’t help it, they bring so much joy. Patting Ollie or Shiko really calms people down. If a student is feeling overwhelmed or anxious, you see them relax within minutes when they are with the dogs. It refocuses them on something other than the big emotions they are feeling. “Once they are calm, we can start working with them to help with whatever it is they need. Having therapy dogs on site is mutually beneficial for everyone. It helps us as teachers to do our job better and I watch kids who are so upset just calm down straight away as soon as they see Ollie or Shiko.” Bomaderry High School student support officer, Marty Richardson, agrees. “We have a tutorial centre at Bomaderry for kids with anxiety or behavioural issues and Ollie and Shiko help them with their emotional regulation,” explains Marty. “If the kids need to see the school counsellor or deputy, we make sure Ollie goes in with them. The kids learn, through handling the dogs and training them, about trust and responsibility. Everyone loves Ollie and Shiko, and Judi too. If we could clone all three of them that would be so awesome. They are rockstars here at Bomaderry and how lucky are we to have them at our school?”It is a sentiment shared by Natasha, who recognises that not all schools have had the support needed to implement a therapy dog program.“We are so thankful for Judi and to have this program running in our school,” she says. “We had been wanting to do it for a very long time, but it was about finding the right person. We are very lucky to have found Judi, Ollie and Shiko. Everyone here can see the value that it brings to students and staff.”Judi says the therapy dogs program works because of the bond students and staff have built with her and the dogs and the training that has gone into ensuring Ollie and Shiko are suitable for school environments, which can be high energy and full of temptations like lunch boxes and ball games. “You need to make sure your handling skills are really good,” says Judi. “Ollie’s nature is so beautiful. She has the best temperament and I knew she would be helpful with students in school settings.”Shiko is a gentle giant, who loves attention. But Ollie keeps him in line and likes to remind the younger pup that she is the boss and the classroom is her domain.“I just love them,” says Cooper, a Year 12 student who visits the wellbeing hub during a free period to hang out with Judi, Ollie and Shiko.Judi takes her role as a puppy raiser, therapy dog handler and mentor to students very seriously and recognises it is a privilege to do volunteer work that she loves, even though she is busier than she ever was when she worked full-time.“I will often ask students to help me train Ollie or Shiko, by walking the dogs on lead and getting kids to ask them to sit or stay or leave food,” explains Judi. “They see how much better the dogs get at following commands through practice. Kids start to learn that it takes a lot of practice to get something right. The dogs show students that they might not get something right the first time, but they will get better with practice.”Judi says volunteering with Guide Dogs NSW, and in particular therapy dogs like Ollie, has changed her life.Ollie at Warilla High School's RUOK Day“Therapy Dogs is what I love,” says Judi. “Once a dog goes back to Guide Dogs NSW, you don’t get to see what they are capable of as an assistance dog because they are with their new owner. With therapy dogs you get to see the benefits immediately, and you get to interact with people in the community. My grandkids are in Sydney, so I love being around these young people in high schools.”Judi also recognises the benefits therapy dogs can provide to the wider community. Judi and Ollie were a welcome presence outside Westfield Bondi Junction, where they spent time with members of the public impacted by the horrific stabbings inside the centre just days earlier.“I can read my dogs. You spend hours and hours training them everyday,” explains Judi. “I knew that having a therapy dog like Ollie outside Westfield Bondi would be so beneficial for so many people. We didn’t speak to anyone about what happened, we were just there for people to come and pat or cuddle Ollie, or for kids to sit with Ollie while their parents spoke to the mental health volunteers on site. “I just knew in my heart that cuddles with Ollie was exactly what this community needed. When people are at their absolute lowest, that’s when we see the benefit of therapy dogs the most.”Judi and Ollie have also worked in disaster recovery centres after bushfires and floods, recently providing support at the Northern Illawarra flood recovery centre after torrential rain impacted communities across the region.The pair are part of the Canine Court Companion Program at Campbelltown Court, offering comfort to victims of domestic and family violence. They also pop in to local police and ambulance dispatch stations for ‘fly-in, fly-out visits’ so staff can have a pat, play and cuddle with Ollie. “It’s a distraction from the difficult things they have to deal with everyday,” explains Judi.Next month, Ollie and Judi will start volunteering at Lifeline Sylvania, where Ollie will sit with call centre volunteers and offer handshakes, hugs and support once a month. And, as if the dynamic duo are not busy enough, they will be at Shellharbour Library throughout August to read books with young people to celebrate Pawgust.Training a guide dog is expensive, around $50,000 for each puppy, and not all are guaranteed to become assistance dogs. Judi’s volunteer work as a puppy raiser and therapy dog handler ensures that all members of the community reap the rewards and benefits of the guide dogs program.“People have donated their hard-earned money towards that cost so I’m going to make sure I give 115 percent as a puppy raiser,” says Judi. “No dog is ever trained as a therapy dog. They all start on the guide dog pathway. But in the end, they choose the pathway themselves. I am so blessed that I have the opportunity to do this for people in my community and share the beautiful Ollie. And I know I have set Shiko up well for whoever receives him in the future. I may never meet them or see where he goes, but I know I finished what I started. I often tell this to students: ‘when you start something, see it through to the finish, don’t give up when it becomes hard’.”Judi, who has been nominated in this year’s NSW Volunteer of the Year Awards for her work with Therapy Dogs in schools, encourages anyone interested in volunteering to “just do it”. “Volunteering is such an important part of communities,” says Judi. “I get to use my skills, adapt what I have learned in my profession and translate it into supporting the mental health of young people, empowering them to get involved with their community. These kids see what I can bring to the table as an older person and I want them to think that they can do the same, everyone has something to offer. I always say ‘use what’s in your hand’.”What’s in Judi’s hand right now is treats for Ollie and Shiko, and she wouldn't have it any other way. 

Last month, university students and best mates Fynn Cowen and Riley Nicholl, both  21, embarked on a mission to conquer Kiama's cafe scene by sipping their way through  30 cafés in just as many days. What inspired such an ambitious undertaking? "We’ve  always appreciated that Kiama has an abundance of cafes," they shared. "It got us  thinking about how many there actually were and how long it would take to try them all."  Their venture was not just a pursuit for their next caffeine hit, but also an exploration of  the town's culture and community. "This was our chance to experience new places and  meet new people," they added.  Cowen and Nicholl meticulously evaluated each café based on two crucial criteria. The  flavor of different types of caffeinated beverages and the ambience of the café itself.  "We focused on two main things: the taste of different coffees and the overall vibe,  including customer service, at different times of the day," the pair explained. The friends chose a different style of coffee at each location, making every visit unique. From off-menu delights like the ‘Espresso Tim Tam Shake’ at Moist ‘N’ Glazed, to heartfelt conversations with a DJ at Bouquiniste on their final day. Both found that each cafe offered its own memorable experience. Buskers outside Short Black Coffee Kiama raising money for a mental health charity while Burnetts On Barney's (Kiama’s Landscaping Hub) offered not only great coffee but also an inclusive and welcoming atmosphere.  Of course, no quest is without its challenges. Juggling their mission with busy  schedules tested their commitment to the task. "As uni students working jobs, preparing for each visit was a bit of a logistical challenge," confessed the duo. Sometimes having to try coffees as early as 6:30am or as late as 9:00 pm. However, they agreed that finding cafés to visit wasn’t the hard part. “They're everywhere in Kiama!”  Reflecting on their 30-day journey, Cowen and Nicholl agreed that breaking away from the routine of visiting the same four or five spots repeatedly was a delightful change. "Every new coffee brought a smile to our faces, and we’ve come to appreciate the local scene even more."  If you are interested in learning more about the friends' café quest, you can get in touch with them directly at: [email protected].

You can pledge a donation to the Bugle through our phone number 0412415101 within our business hours which are 9am-5pm Monday to Friday. If no one is there to answer your call, leave a message and we will get back to you. You can also pledge online with the link at the bottom of the article.Nobody died and the boat didn’t sink. But nonetheless, the return of the Signa to Kiama Harbour managed to create quite a stir, with locals braving the drizzling weather to occupy vantage points along the foreshore. Many people have memories of the Signa, and a significant number of them showed up in Kiama on May 8 to commemorate its return after two years in dry dock at Albion Park.After an estimated 12,000 hours of volunteer labour, the boat, which was originally launched in 1970, has been lovingly restored to its former glory with new windows, new engines, and new fittings.  Those showing up to mark the event included former charter operators, fishermen who used to hire the boat on weekends and even the children of the original builder of the boat, Bob Riddell, who built the boat in the coffin factory his boss Jack Paton owned. It was one of the first dedicated game fishing boats ever seen in Australia, and large by the standards of the day. Signa being lowered into Kiama Harbour. Photo: John Stapleton.The boat is named after Jack’s wife, Signa. Bob Riddell’s daughter, Jane Dove of Woy Woy, drove down to Kiama for the event. “Just to see the boat is fantastic, my father built it and 50 years later, it is still going,” she said. “We never got a trip on it. My father was a very quiet person, he was just going to work building a boat.”Son Greg Riddell remembers to this day the boat being launched near Silverwater Bridge in Sydney. “My father would have loved to have been here,” he says. The Riddell children might never have gone out to sea in the boat, but plenty of other people did, including, famously, actor Lee Marvin of Hollywood fame, along with Bob and Dolly Dyer of Pick-A-Box, a television program familiar to any Australian old enough to remember the 1960s. For a time, the boat was owned by the famous Sydney restaurant Doyles, which used it for their high-profile customers. A clearly delighted John Hansen, who funded the project, wants above all to pay tribute to the many people who helped restore the boat.Those he wishes to thank by name include his wife Sandra, who has been an enthusiastic supporter, Rex Jones, Richard Roman aka Don, Peter Rook, Lawrie Lovegrove, Graham Williams, Rob Hoffmeister and Geoffrey Farrer. “It was ten times bigger than we thought,” he says. “It was a labour of love. We were all retirees, they all played golf together. And once they started on the boat it was a labour of love, they just loved doing it.”Sandra and John Hansen. Photo credit: John Stapleton.As to how it all came about, John Hansen says he and a friend Rex Jones had previously rebuilt a small fishing boat and as retirees were looking around for another project. The Signa came up for sale, and the rest is history. Except they had no idea quite what they were buying into. The boat was in poor condition, having basically been rotting in the harbour for some time, and having been officially declared unseaworthy. “We suddenly realised when the boat was ours how complicated the project was,” he recalls. “We have basically rebuilt the entire boat.”As Sandra recalls: “The bones of Signa, the hull, was good, it was a good boat, it just needed attention. The deck and the roof and parts of the floor inside were just rotted. We took out nearly two tonnes of rubbish.”Signa is expected to stay at mooring in Kiama Harbour for the next several weeks as the timber boat adjusts to being back in the water, the new engines settle in and the final bits of cosmetic work, including cabinetry and carpeting. “Cosmetic stuff,” Sandra calls the final adjustments. “The kitchen’s been done, the bathroom, all the hard stuff has been done.”Sigma being maneuvered. Photo credit: John Stapleton.And there it is, back in Kiama Harbour, a boat full of memories, as many of those in attendance were quick to recall. Kevin Adams, who went out on the boat with his father, Bruce, who helped build the original refrigeration, said his father, too, would have loved to have been there. “It is amazing what they have done with the refurbishment,” he says. “They have done a great job. At the time Signa was a master, it was one of the biggest boats around built out of wood.” Wayne Hollingsworth, who before he retired to the South Coast used to come down from Sydney with a group of mates and hire out the boat for fishing trips, says: “Seeing it brings back a lot of memories. It was a good boat, solid in the water. I used to see it in the harbour in recent years, it was just rotting away.” One of the most obvious things about the freshly restored Signa is how good the woodwork, including the original teak, looks. Retired carpenter Lawrie Lovegrove, when asked why he was prepared to spend so many hundreds of hours on the project, including countless hours sanding, just shrugs: “Silly old bastard.”Well, thanks to a lot of silly old buggers, Kiama now has a beautifully restored and intriguing part of Australia’s maritime history in pride of place.  DONATE HERE.

Local artist, activist and original Freedom Rider, Machteld Hali, continues her tireless efforts in supporting her community and advocating for the rights and empowerment of First Nations people. With the launch of her latest art fundraiser at The Tempest Gallery on 17 May, Machteld hopes to raise the remaining funds for her phenomenal $20k contribution to education for First Nations people at the University of New England. Machteld is guided by a strong desire to help, grown from some of her own experiences of hatred and discrimination as an immigrant in this country. It began in 1965 when Machteld participated in the Charles Perkins Freedom Ride run by Sydney University. The Freedom Ride was a 15 day bus journey through regional NSW and has since become a defining moment in Australian activism, now taught about in schools. The Freedom Ride was intended to spread awareness for the poor conditions that indigenous people were living in NSW at the time. Machteld recounts the Freedom Ride and the things she saw during the journey from a time where indigenous people were excluded from movie theatres, swimming pools, RSL clubs, etc. Many were living in unsafe and unhealthy conditions in reserves and missions in ‘shanty towns’. The fundraiser is aptly named “No More Eggs and Tomatoes” as a nod to the events that occurred at the Moree swimming pool. Machteld and the group of Freedom Riders were run out of town by angry locals throwing eggs and rotten tomatoes, spitting and fighting the peaceful protestors. Culminating in their bus being run off the road and their bus driver abandoning the group, leaving them stranded in the middle of nowhere. The art fundraiser will feature a diverse selection of framed artworks generously donated by Hali herself, her students and a range of local artists. Notable contributions include pieces from acclaimed artists such as Pro Hart, Auguste Blackman, Robyn Sharp, Becky Guggisverg, and Kerrina Swords.  The evening will provide food, drink and entertainment and the opportunity to bid on the art in an auction. Currently Machteld has raised $16,125 for the scholarship administered by the University of New England, with the goal to hit $20k. Machteld has hosted at least 10 workshops, some free, encouraging students to donate their work to two previous exhibitions that have helped contribute to the funds.  In 2015, the University of Sydney hosted a reenactment of the Freedom Ride with 19 of the original members on board. The changes in the communities they visited were palpable and a complete turn around to the hostility the group had faced fifty years earlier. Healthy indigenous children lined the roads into town, and the townspeople welcomed the riders with appreciation for their past efforts. Despite progress, challenges still persist and many issues related to identity loss, intergenerational unemployment and substance abuse are still prevalent in regional towns like Moree. Machteld is motivated by these ongoing struggles and believes ‘education is the golden arrow’. Reflecting on the challenges addressed by the original Freedom Ride, Machteld emphasises the importance of acknowledging and rectifying past injustices. Those interested in attending the fundraiser or contributing to the cause are encouraged to contact Machteld by email at [email protected]. Details of the gallery open night can be found here. Through collective action and unwavering dedication, Machteld aims to make a meaningful difference in the lives of First Nations people, one brushstroke at a time. In a bid to continue the legacy of the historic Freedom Ride of 1965, the artist continues to be a voice for our indigenous people, reminding us all of the importance of shared community and culture.

Once upon a not so many years ago Max “Bunny” Hair, 93, was the returned veteran who, prouder than proud, would raise and lower the flag at ANZAC Day ceremonies in Kiama.Then Covid hit, and he was deeply upset that government restrictions meant he could not pay his respects to fallen comrades, and could not wear, with pride, his own medals along with the medals of his father and his two brothers, all of whom also served. And so neighbours, Glenn and Kerry Shepherd, decided to organise a small ANZAC Day ceremony at the bottom of Max’s driveway in Kiama Downs. “We rallied around the neighbourhood and people wanted to be part of it,” he recalls. “Max has been a good friend and neighbour to us all and is highly regarded. Everyone was locked down, we were all told we couldn’t go. Then the government told us we could go to the end of our driveways and celebrate. So we decided to do it at the end of Max’s driveway.” “We were probably doing the wrong thing, but we did it anyway. It has gotten bigger every year. For me, to see that man so proud when he stands there, why wouldn’t you be there. We show respect to our service people through Max.”  “If that’s not a good thing, what is?”  Max Hair, 93, honors Anzac Day at the bottom of his driveway in Kiama Downs.That was 2020, and what began as a small, essentially humble event has grown in strength. Over the intervening years, other neighbours joined in with Glen to mark the spirit of the occasion, pinning paper poppies on their chests and setting up candles in their own driveways.This year, some 30 neighbours and relatives gathered for the Dawn Service, led by Max himself.His chest festooned with medals, he welcomed everyone in a clear, strong voice before relaying stories from his time in the navy, and reading out the famous Ode of Remembrance as his son lowers the Australian flag to half-mast: They shall grow not old,as we that are left grow old;Age shall not weary them,nor the years condemn.We shall remember them. And then the playing of the last post as the sky lightens.A relative read out the list of his medals, including one for good conduct, to which Max cheerfully cuts in: “I don’t know how I got that!”Max, “Bunny”, joined the navy in 1948 and served in the Korean War. He is one of the last survivors of those with whom he served. “It was a big part of my life being in the service. I am Navy through and through. My only regret is I didn’t talk my two boys into joining the Navy.” Max Hair in his Navy days in the 1940's. “As to the meaning of Anzac Day, I think of my father, and I think of the camaraderie. Remembrance.” And he laps into an unusual silence. “Remembrance, the service life. Most of them have gone by, have left now.” An encounter with the Hair family leaves you with one impression, just how loving they are, including Old Max. You give love to receive it, and the biggest excitement in the family is the impending arrival of their fourth great grandchild. “He tells me every single day how much he loves me,” his wife of 65 years Josie says, beaming. “Max has been a wonderful husband. He was always for the family. We have been very, very lucky, and very very happy.” The family pore over photograph albums, commenting with astonishment at some of the images of their father and grandfather when he was young. Daughter Debby, who lives in Jamberoo and works at Shellharbour hospital, recalls when her father used to go up to Sydney for the Anzac Day march. “When dad marched past us, he used to always break rank and come over and give us a cuddle,” she recalls. This year's ceremony ended with Max thanking all the friends, relatives and neighbours who had shown up. “Next year will be bigger and better,” he declares.

Kiama Rugby’s opening game on 13 April didn’t only mark the club’s first win of the season, but also Scott Duncan’s 300th game for the club. The Bugle caught up with the long-time Kiama player, as he reflected on this impressive milestone. Duncan becomes the seventh player in the club history with 300 games under his belt.How was it running out for your 300th game?“Pretty emotional, actually. Everyone, friends, family and the whole club, were there supporting me. My dad passed away earlier this year, in February. He had supported me during my whole career. We had spoken a lot about my 300th game. It was a funny feeling that he wasn’t there,” Duncan says.“When Mick Cook and Al Marsden, former players, presented me with the jersey ahead of the game, they said that dad’s looking over me.”Reflecting back, is there any game or any period that has stood out in particular?“Look, we were pretty successful in the early 2000s. We won a couple of grand finals.”Kiama Rugby won the first grade premierships in 2002 and 2003, and the Illawarra club championship in 2003.“Every game, I’ve really enjoyed. All the people that I’ve met. Every time I go to New Zealand, I visit people. I know guys in Ireland,” Duncan adds. What are you looking forward to this season?“Just that the club has recruited really well. It’s probably the youngest second grade I’ve ever seen. Lots of really good juniors. It’s shaping up to be a cracking year,” he concludes.Quick factsAge: Turning 42 this MayBorn and bred: KiamaHome club: Kiama Rugby Football Club (I started playing for Kiama Rugby in the juniors in 1995).Position: I play in the forwards mostly at #8. But when I was younger (and faster), I played at #7 (openside flanker). I can also play inside centre, if called upon. 

Jamberoo tradie Mitchell (Mitch) Rosser is being hailed as a hero after rescuing a man from the flash floods which occurred during the torrential downpours in the early hours of Saturday 6 April. But he doesn’t want this story to be about him. He wants to make sure it never happens again.On inspection, it’s very hard to see how the man survived at all. In the pitch dark, the flood water running over the paddocks picked up his car and smashed it through an iron gate on Jamberoo Road, just out of town near Turpentine Creek. All the electronics in the car had died. However, by some miracle, the power window wound down, and he managed to get out of the car as it was being swept into the creek. The car was later found badly damaged a good kilometre further down Turpentine Creek, ending near the 12th hole of the Jamberoo Golf Course. The location where the incident began is approximately 50 metres from the waterway. Driving in the dark, there is no reason to assume that there would be floodwater in that location. Local plumber, Mitch, was out filming the water running through his garage and feeling concerned about protecting his young family when he heard a cry for help.“It was terrifying. The whole yard was under water,” he recalls. “I said to the missus, oh yeah, the front lawn is flooded again. Our gate was gone, a road sign ripped out. It was pissing down. There’s always water when there's 100mm of rain, but I have never seen anything like this.  “I was trying to get all the tools off the floor in my shed, and I heard him screaming out for help. I just heard him yelling, help, help, help. We rang 000, but there was no way they could get there.” Mitch’s house backs onto Turpentine Creek. They could hear the man, but they couldn’t see him in the torrential rain and darkness.“I yelled to my wife, get me a torch. I could hear him screaming for help. I ran along the back fence, trying to find his voice. I was yelling, where are you? He shouted back, I am over here, help me, the water is rising.”Mitch says the only reason he saw him was because he had a reflective strip on his work shirt. “He just had one arm hanging on to a branch, and water was up to his chest. He was grabbing stuff, and it was belting down. I told him, hold on. He was in the bushes. Í could see where he was but the water was smashing through. I couldn’t reach him.“I ran to my shed, looking for a power cord, something, anything he could hold on to. I got the pole for the pool scoop.I tried to pull him out through the scrub. Eventually we locked arms, and managed to get him out.“He was shaken, rattled, and then hugged me. You saved my life, he said. I said, we need to get you inside. The neighbour’s a paramedic.”The Bugle understands the man does not wish to be identified.Mitch himself is shaken up by the event.    “If we hadn’t heard him, he was gone. He’s the luckiest man alive. It gives me chills even to think about it. I just keep hearing him screaming.” And there is one thing Mitch is certain of, and that is this man is very lucky to have survived. The power had gone in the car, but for some reason the power window wound down. His two year old son is an early riser, so for that reason the family were all awake. But if Mitch hadn’t gone out into the backyard at that exact time, they would never have heard him yelling for help. And if he hadn’t been wearing a high-viz shirt, they would never have been able to locate him. One thing is for sure, and that is Mitch never wants to see it happen again. “Every local knows that Turpentine Creek floods, but there is no signage, nothing. And this man was not a local. That is what I hope will come out of this story, to stop it happening again.“An hour later, people were out driving, and two of us were out with flashlights telling people not to drive through. Screaming, stop stop stop!” Local member Gareth Ward said he would be asking Council to install a flood metre at the site and looking at what other warning signage is required to ensure people are aware of the dangers of this section of road. “Based on the experience of locals and feedback I have received, we don’t want this to happen again. I want to consult with Council traffic engineers on what they believe is necessary, and raise the feedback from the community. “I want to commend Mitch for his heroism, and I believe this bravery should be officially recognised. If it wasn’t for Mitch’s quick thinking and heroism, the man would be dead.”Contacted for comment Kiama Council issued the following statement: Kiama residents with concerns about safety and other signage on our local roads to lodge a Customer Request for Maintenance (CRM). These CRM’s regarding road safety are provided to our Manager Design, and then to Council’s Traffic Committee.”

After decades in mainstream journalism, and having written literally thousands of stories, there aren’t too many things I haven’t written about.But there was one story about the world’s last survivor of the Gallipoli campaign, Alec Campbell, that has stuck in my memory all these years. Alec lied about his age in order to enlist in World War One, claiming he was 18 years and five months old. Throughout his extremely colourful life, Alec used to joke that because he was in fact only 16 when he went to war, he could become the oldest surviving Anzac. But thus it came to pass. He passed away in 2002 at the age of 103. I was working at The Australian as a general news reporter when, on the occasion of Alec officially becoming the last surviving Gallipoli veteran, I was directed by the Chief of Staff to do a phone interview. Most people, particularly the elderly, are pretty chuffed if the national newspaper rings them up over one honour or another. Not Alec.In the first instance, Alec’s protective wife said she wasn’t sure if he would feel like talking. An old carpenter, he was way down the back shed “banging away at things”, as she put it, and didn’t usually like to come to the phone.Alec took his time, that was for sure. He hung on the phone for a good 20 minutes or so. And when Alec did finally make it to the phone, he wasn’t honoured. He was grumpy that he had been disturbed. My generation grew up during the Vietnam War and many of us are decidedly anti-war. As a young reporter, I was very reluctant to interview old soldiers. I didn’t want to hear their war stories. But the opposite is true. There is no one more anti-war than a returned soldier. They have seen their mates die in front of them in often pointless conflicts, and do not want to relive the moment, or see anyone else go through the harrowing times they themselves have endured. I found Alec well, taciturn; utterly dismissive of politicians, proud of his union background, “up the bosses”, and contemptuous of the military commanders who had sent his comrades to their deaths in their thousands, the terrible slaughter he had witnessed firsthand.Alec refused to march on Anzac Day until very late in life because he didn’t want to glorify a lie: that war was a noble enterprise. He almost never spoke about his experiences at Gallipoli. There were better, more positive things in life.He joined what was then known as the Australian Imperial Force in July of 1915 and promptly earned the nickname “The Kid”. He arrived at Anzac Cove in November that same year and was wounded in the fighting at Gallipoli. He caught a fever and suffered facial paralysis as a result. He was invalided home and discharged in 1916, a veteran at the age of 17. Unlike many Australian veterans, who never recover from their wartime experiences, Alec got back to his home state of Tasmania and simply got on with life.Alec worked many different jobs, as a stockman, carpenter, railway carriage builder and, in his later years, researcher and historian. He gained an economics degree at the age of 50. His love of life extended to an enthusiasm for sailing, and he also circumnavigated Tasmania.On his deathbed, Alec pleaded: “For God’s sake, don’t glorify Gallipoli. It was a terrible fiasco, a total failure and best forgotten.”He was survived by nine children, 30 grandchildren and 32 great grandchildren.On the occasion of his death in May of 2002, I was also drafted to write a story headlined “Tributes and praise pour in for an ordinary hero”.Then Prime Minister John Howard’s media office had done a fine job of polishing up the Anzac myth for public consumption: “On behalf of the nation, I honour his life. Alec Campbell was typical of a generation of Australians who, through their sacrifice, bravery and decency, created a legacy that has resonated through subsequent decades and generations.“All Australians will forever be in debt to the Anzacs. Not only for what they did for us, but for the legend, for the tradition, for the stoicism under fire, sense of mateship and all those other great ideals that, increasingly, young Australians see as part of their Inheritance.”Then Governor-General Peter Hollingworth said Alec’s death was an occasion to reflect on the passing of the generation that helped give us our identity and character as a nation.    “Having recently returned from Anzac Day at Gallipoli and Anzac ceremonies in France, I have a renewed sense of the utter futility of war, which was such a constant message of the Anzacs like Alec Campbell.” Veterans Affairs Minister Danna Vale said Gallipoli held a unique place in the hearts of Australians.   “With Mr Campbell’s passing, we have lost our last living link to the birthplace of the Anzac spirit, which is a great loss,” she said. “Mr Campbell and his fellow Anzacs fought with the kind of courage, integrity and honour that we will never forget. It is a legacy that will live on.”   Alec, it is fairly safe to say, would have been contemptuous of the political sycophancy that accompanied his death, and disapproved of Australia’s involvement in America’s endless wars, including Afghanistan, Iraq and now Ukraine. Lest We Forget.

Kiama is blessed with a multitude of accomplished authors. Among the list, Trish Griffin, a two time non fiction published author with two more books on the way, finds inspiration writing the stories of people she meets on her travels. She grew up on a large cattle station 180 kilometres north west of Longreach in the fifties. Reminiscing on days spent barefoot, riding horses 24/7, and mastering the art of driving at a young age. "I had my own gun since I was 8 years old, we all did," she shares, on the unique realities of her upbringing. The freedom and tranquillity of her childhood inspired her to explore the world.Her second published book, “Dancing on the Head of a Pin”, was met with rave reviews. It chronicles her journey along the Camino from Barcelona to Santiago, covering a staggering 1300 kilometres in 2012. Her writing only flows when she's deeply inspired, and the individuals she encounters during her journeys serve as the perfect muse.I had the privilege of discussing Trish's current work in progress, a book focusing on post-war immigration in the Snowy Mountains region. She spent time there with locals and again inspiration hit when listening to their stories. Trish is committed to presenting these narratives without any agenda or political bias, allowing the truth to shine through organically. Keep an eye out for updates on her upcoming book release on the Bugle app.Trish gave her advice for those who want to travel in the same way she does, getting involved in the community and immersing herself in the culture. She discourages organised tours like Contiki and volunteer organisations, preferring instead to engage in independent volunteering to truly experience local culture firsthand and witness the direct impact of her efforts. Despite acknowledging the discomfort and fears associated with solo travel, she believes the rewards are boundless, stating, "It's a scary edge, but that's where all the good stuff happens - you learn things you don't learn in school."Trish's approach to travel involves landing in a new place, taking a taxi or bus to find budget accommodations, and relying on locals for insider tips on navigating the area. She describes this style of travel as being "on the edge," where one can gain invaluable experiences and insights that go beyond typical tourist experiences.Trish brings a wealth of incredible stories from her global adventures, and we're delighted to welcome her as a new columnist. Look out for her name on the byline, and stay tuned to Bugle News for updates on her upcoming releases.

In a heartfelt tribute to one of Australia's most revered writers, Charmian Clift, Kiama unveiled a blue plaque at the Kiama Library on Saturday 13 April. Attended by dignitaries, relatives and local historians the event was opened by Mayor Neil Reilly with a welcome to country by Councillor Stuart Larkins. This commemoration stands as a testament to Clift's enduring impact on literature and culture, a legacy cherished by generations.Born in Kiama in 1923, Charmian Clift's journey into the world of words began at a tender age, her pen weaving tales of her beloved hometown's wonders, such as the famous blowhole, even as a child. Her passion for writing flourished, leading her to Sydney where she ventured into journalism, eventually joining the Australian Women’s Army Service during World War II.Dr Sarah Kaine MLC with Dr Graham Tucker in KiamaClift's life took a significant turn when she met George Johnston, a renowned war correspondent, sparking a passionate yet tumultuous love affair. Despite the challenges they faced, their journey together led them to Greece, where the idyllic landscapes of Kalymnos and Hydra became the backdrop for Clift's literary masterpieces. Works like "Mermaid Singing" and "Peel Me a Lotus" echoed her experiences in Greece, captivating readers with their autobiographical essence.In 1960, Clift penned her solo novel, "Walk to the Paradise Gardens," drawing inspiration from her roots in Kiama. Her subsequent works, including "Honour’s Mimic" and the recently published "The End of the Morning," reflected her profound reflections on life, love, and society.Sue Eggins, President of the Kiama District Historical Society was the principal proponent of the submission and all the follow up required to achieve this great milestone. Her enthusiasm, effort and persistence ensured the plaque stood as a testament to Charmian's legacy. Her work is greatly appreciated by the historical society and the Kiama community.

My mother, Elva Emery, who passed away in 1997, was asked to do a talk for Gerringong’s 140th anniversary on what life was like for families in the early days of Gerringong. If our records are correct, she gave the talk in 1994. My mother was born in 1923 and so remembered the Great Depression of the 1930s with great clarity. Elva Emery on her wedding day in 1947Gerringong may now be associated with expensive real estate, but life back in the early years was not easy by today’s luxurious standards.Here is an edited copy of her speech. By Elva EmeryEarly settlers lived in what we would consider small houses, built from logs or slabs of the local timber. These homes usually had two buildings, for the kitchen stood apart from the bedrooms because of the danger of fire. The main feature of the old kitchens was a large, open fire, sometimes large enough to seat several people round the inside ledges, or benches, which was great on a winter’s night. These fires were fed by large chunks of wood, which sent, when a new log was added, a huge blaze roaring up the chimney, together with dangerous sparks. On and around this open fire there were black, heavy iron kettles, always boiling and ready to make tea, a camp oven for cooking and bread-making and often a large pot of soup in winter.Of course, there was no water in pipes or taps; it had to be carried from the tank in buckets for there was no sink in the kitchen. But there were lots and lots of flies and other insects. Screens for doors and windows were not heard of. A tablecloth was a luxury and table-tops and benches were scrubbed down with a hard brush and sand-soap, a gritty sort of soap which helped remove the stains and grease. The family drank from enamel or tin mugs, with the same sort of materials used for plates, knives, forks and spoons. They spent most of their family time in the kitchen and just went to the larger building to sleep; there were no such rooms as lounges! There were usually quite a number of children in the family and they often slept, three or four together in one bed, which kept them warm in winter. The houses were open underneath, so the winds whistled up through the floorboards. There were often cracks between the wallboards and often they would be papered over with newspaper, or brown paper. The old-style hair and fibre mattresses were very hard to sleep on; altogether, life was pretty hard.But things improved when there was running water in pipes and taps, and sinks in the kitchen, but it was a great luxury to have a real bathroom, even if we had to carry the hot water to the bath. Later on chip heaters were invented, a sort of drum at the end of the bath, with a pipe through the room, which one filled with water and then lit a little fire underneath – it was a rather slow bath! Fathers shaved in the bathroom using some hot water in a shaving mug, with some soap, to first soften their whiskers. Then, with what was called a cut-throat razor, they would slowly and very carefully scrape off all their whiskers; one slip, and your throat was cut – hence the name. No washing machines then, but Mother had a laundry which usually housed a large, built-in copper, under which, again a fire was lit, for the water had to be boiled to properly cleanse the family’s clothes, sheets, towels, etc. Up-to-date laundries had two tubs, one to rinse the clothes after boiling, and one beside to ‘blue’ the white articles. The clothes were transferred from copper to tubs with a pot-stick, which was hot and heavy work, and each piece of clothing, including sheets and towels, was wrung out by hand, until wringers were later available. The clothes were then placed in a cane basket and carried out to be hung, by ‘dolly’ clothes pegs on long, wire clothes lines, propped up here and there by clothes props when the load started to sink to the ground; no Hills hoists then! Members of a church picnic line up for a group photographNot steam-irons, either. Ironing was done with a heavy ‘flat iron’ which had to be continually reheated on the top of the fuel stove. Many of the items were starched, and so had to be ‘damped down’, rolled up for a time, and it all made for a very slow ironing session.Soon after I started school we were lucky to have electricity extended to the Seven Mile Beach area and we were able to put away our lamps and actually buy a wireless, which you would now call a radio, but it was quite a large piece of furniture, and quite magical to us. But very few people could afford to buy electric stoves, or fridges, and for many years we still cooked with a fuel stove and kept our food reasonably fresh with a Coolgardie Safe, or an ice-chest, which carried a block of ice in the top compartment and melted slowly into a tray underneath. Screen doors were still in the future and we controlled (partly) the many flies either by inserting an L-shaped small funnel (something like a Poppa) or by attaching a small, round box to the ceiling of the kitchen, and pulling it down to reveal a very sticky strip of paper, about three feet long, from which no fly ever flew away. We had had a telephone since I could remember, but more remote places like Foxground, were quite remote until it was extended to there. It was a worrying time when anyone was sick, for the only way of contacting a doctor was on horse-back, or by horse and buggy. Many small operations were done in the home. I recall before I was of school age having five stitches in my leg by a doctor from Kiama as I lay on the kitchen table. Elva’s son Mark Emery comments: They bred them tough in those days, and my mother was a very tough woman. Everybody was. 

What began with a bucket, a brush, and a mop has blossomed into a thriving enterprise thanks to the entrepreneurial spirit of 13-year-old Harrison Hallams. At the tender age of 11, Harrison embarked on a mission to raise funds for a new mountain bike. This gung-ho spirit ultimately led to the creation of his bin concierge business. Now, two years later, alongside his father, Lloyd Hallam, the father and son team clean bins from Jamberoo to Shellharbour, and have transformed one of the most mundane of chores for any householder into a flourishing business venture for themselves.Cleaning bins is a task that many would baulk at, with its unpleasant encounters with maggots and sickly odours. When asked about the most challenging aspect of the job, Harrison didn't hesitate to point out, "the smell… Especially in summer!"Despite the challenges, Harrison and Lloyd dedicate two hours every day after Harrison finishes school to clean bins, the duo often tackling five bins daily. Balancing extracurricular activities and school pick-ups, Lloyd emphasises the importance of making the time for their growing business. Although they started with just a bucket and brush, their dedication and success led them to invest in a trailer attachment for their car, equipped with specialised bin cleaning equipment. This upgrade not only streamlined their operations but also increased the number of customers they could serve effectively. What initially began as a means to acquire a mountain bike quickly evolved. Such is the success of their business that they've had to enlist the help of another worker to manage the workload from Tullimbar to Shellharbour.For those tired of dealing with smelly bins, Harrison and Lloyd offer a solution worth considering. By supporting these local superstars, not only are you ensuring a fresh and clean environment, but you're also championing the entrepreneurial spirit of a young innovator and his dedicated father. Find their heartwarming updates on Facebook or Instagram. 

He bought his 50 acre property on the plateau at the top of Jamberoo Mountain Road 35 years ago, long before the Southern Highlands became one of the most prized real estate areas in the state. “It was just a backwater,” Jeff recalls. “Much of the road up from Jamberoo past Barren Grounds was just dirt. We brought up the four kids here. No one wanted to live out here, it was just in the sticks. It was a great place for them to grow up, perfect. They could run riot.”All this idyllic rural life changed forever some five years ago, when one of his sons, Peter, fed up with working as a mechanic in Albion Park Rail, came home and declared he needed a hobby, and he wanted to take up beekeeping.Within a short period of time his son moved out to Cowra, and the small number of hives he was keeping around his father’s farm turned into dozens and then hundreds. The regular supply of honey led Jeff to set up his roadside stall, one beekeeper introduced him to others, and he is now a fixture for anyone driving the scenic route between Jamberoo and Robertson. Fast forward to the present, and both tourists and locals drop by to purchase his wears: 14 different regional varieties of honey at any one time. Japanese, Chinese and Indian tourists often stop, and insist on having their picture taken with him. Roadside stalls are common in their home countries but now rare in Australia. The southern highlands were once full of them, selling Robertson’s famous potatoes, tomatoes, basically anything the locals could grow or make. Now Mr Bell’s stall is a nostalgic reminder of homeland for tourists, and for older Australians to a past now replaced by supermarkets.Jeff says the major chain store buyers simply mix tonnes of different styles of honey together before putting it on to the supermarket shelves, destroying its distinctive and varying tastes, “a washy washy” product. “They just put it into one tank and mix it,” he says. “It has no character. And that is when they get into trouble, mixing it in with glucose or corn syrup, which is cheaper than real honey. “I like what I am doing, I like telling people all the different honeys, the different flavours,” Jeff says. “It is one of the only foods that never goes off. They got it out of the pyramids. It gives you a kind of super fix. “I enjoy explaining to the public that honey isn’t just honey, there’s a lot more to it than that. I would have had 50 different varieties since I started.“One Muslim customer tells me honey is the river of life, important in their dreams of the afterlife.”At present his most popular honey “by far” is sourced from flowering Macadamia trees around Byron Bay. The honey is described as creamy and smooth, having a “rich complex flavour of malt and caramel toffee”. “People just keep coming back for it,” Jeff says.His second best seller right now is honey sourced from thistles in the west of the State. “It is a rare honey,” he says. “A lot of beekeepers wouldn’t normally put their boxes out in thistles. It is normally sprayed. The Yellow Box eucalyptus flowering ended and the thistle came out. And this year the farmers couldn’t spray because of the wet conditions.”Thistle honey is described as light gold in colour, with a greenish tinge, with a fresh mild floral flavour.All the regional honeys Mr Bell features are long gone from most grocery store shelves, and are a great loss for a generation who don’t know what they’re missing.One featured at present is Blue Gum honey, described as densely textured and amber with the sweet aroma of fruity eucalypts. Banksia honey is described as having the flavour of caramelised bananas, Grevillia Silky Oak honey as bold caramel with a smooth finish and River Red Gum honey as having a rich golden russet colour that is less sweet than other honeys. Jeff attributes his robust health to avoiding cane sugar and instead drinking honey with his tea every day. “Honey is good for you,” Jeff Bell says. On the available evidence, that would appear to be true. You would be very hard put to find a healthier or happier looking 70-year-old anywhere in the entire country.