Bill Stevenson (Leader 1971-1979) recalls a Scout Camp held at the Blue Gum Forest in the Blue Mountains over the 20-21 May 1972 weekend. His description of the camp sums up many of the benefits of Scouting and I have reproduced it here.
Our convoy of parents, Scouts and Leaders arrived at our rendezvous atop the Blue Mountains. The boys lined up in Patrols of six for a roll call and pre-hike inspection.
The older Patrols were familiar with our camping procedure and rules. They knew, among other things, that Berowra Scouters imposed the rules that no can openers, tin foods or radios would be permitted on our hike camps. They also knew, from experience, of the necessity to travel light, taking only those items listed at prior Scouts meetings, and omitting nothing from that list. Younger Scouts, who had just “come up” to Scouts had, over the last few weeks, often been informed of these conditions.
Notwithstanding all this experienced advice, a quick check of packs revealed can openers and radios. These were quickly handed over to parents. A couple of parents protested that their boys needed the can openers to open tinned food but after we briefly explained our rules to them they seemed satisfied that we knew what we were doing.
When the lads protested we ignored the fact that heavy tinned goods remained in their packs without any mechanical openers, and that these heavy tines would have to be lugged to the camp site. The parents bade us farewell and departed, leaving their children to the mercy of three Scouters.
We left the mountain top in an orderly manner walking quickly downhill for about two miles to where we came to a tourist lookout. It was only then that some Scouts realised some of the difficulty that lay ahead. This was to be no casual romp. Below us stretched rugged bush valleys. They could not see our destination, but when the general area was indicated someone expressed the doubt that we would make it for evening meal. The lads were always thinking of tucker and could never carry enough food to satisfy their hunger.
A Scouter who had made the trip at an earlier date led the way down a safe track which went along the cliff top to a point where he requested that everybody halt to receive further safety instructions.
We were to descend what was a fairly safe cliff face, but as there had recently been rain we were cautioned to proceed slowly and carefully. Scouters took the younger boys’ packs and escorted them the few hundred yards to the bottom. From there on the descent was a gradual slope of some miles with some small ridges to climb.
The Scouts took off with much enthusiasm. The older Patrols soon set the fastest pace which left the younger Scouts in a long straggling line and me bringing up the rear with young Trevor.
Trevor was a brand new Scout with a happy disposition, but a bit on the stout side. Consequently he soon felt the pace and tired. After a valiant attempt to catch up with his mates he finally decided it was time for a rest. A large log was close at hand. As he was having some difficulty removing his heavy (tin filled) pack he decided not to remove it. He backed up to the log in order to sit down. He unsteadily got his bottom onto the log only to find that the weight of his pack pulled him backwards. His pack hit the ground but Trevor’s bottom was still on the log. His body was parallel to the ground but his feet and hands were in the air. I had to rescue him from this predicament for he was unable to move.
After a while we were able to resume our walk and about an hour later topped a rise to discover our base camp in front of us. From where Trevor and I first sighted the camp. A river, on the left, wound through well grassed flats and tall grass trees. Rugged flat topped mountains surrounded us on all sides and splendid Blue Gums raised their heads to the sky which was slowly turning from a glorious deep blue to a golden red with the imminent setting of the sun. A light mist was already rising from the surface of the river, blending with soft blue smoke of camp fires.
Scouts were scurrying about erecting tents and collecting the plentiful dry timber. Some already had their tents erected and cooking fires going. The odour of cooking mingled with the smell of burning gum.
I recognised groups of young Scouts happily playing ball games and I hoped that they had followed all instructions as advised. Trevor recognised mates playing, dumped his pack, forgot his tiredness and raced off to join them.
I selected my campsite with care, collected kindling and a little heavier wood, erected my tent, collected water from the river in my billy can, lit my fire and prepared a meal of sausages and eggs. Later, joined by Scouters David Muir and Skeet we settled down for a chat.
By now it was dark and the cool mist was beginning to thicken. It was very pleasant sitting before the fire sipping tea and talking. We looked up and beheld two young Scouts standing mutely and dejectedly at my campsite boundary (Scouters of Berowra had a rule which restricted Scouts from approaching within 15 feet of a Leaders’ camp site).
“What do you guys want,” demanded Skeet in his usual jovial manner.
“Please Skeet, we haven’t any matches,” blurted one lad.
“So what,” said Skeet.
“Would you let us have a match so that we can light our fire? No one in our Patrol brought any matches,” replied one lad.
Skeet slipped me a quick look. “Will we give them a match?” he said to me. Knowing what was coming (for we had had this type of discussion on other hike camps) I nodded my assent. Skeet took from his pocket a box of matches, opened it and took out one match only. He placed the match into a grateful outstretched hand, then, before turning his back on them said (with a big grin) “There you’ve got your match, now off you go and let us have some peace.”
“But, but ..,” stammered both boys in pathetic unison.
Skeet turned and giving them a piercing glare growled “Now what?”
“We can’t light our fire without a match box,” they wailed.
“Now you look here” said Skeet, “you asked for a match. You now have a match. You are not getting my matchbox too. If you want to scrounge anything else, go scrounge it from another Patrol.” Skeet knew full well that the older Scout Patrols would show no compassion to those who failed to cater for themselves. The two boys stood dejectedly for a moment, then slowly departed. We later found that their Patrol spent a miserable night. As we foretold, no other Patrol would give them any fire lighting material. A couple of times they were told to rub two sticks together. Consequently they had no fire and no hot meal.
They had played ball until sundown. Only when they realised that time and light were running out did they belatedly commence gathering wood which by that time was damp. They had to erect damp tents on damp ground and eat whatever cold food was available from their supplies.
We Scout Leaders felt sorry for them but considered that the best way to help them was to teach them a hard lesson from which, in the long run, they would learn to stand on their own two feet.
All of the boys from this new Scout Patrol had been good Cubs but were used to relying on their Akela. They wanted to become good Scouts but had to become used to some degree of independence within a Patrol system. I know that they all became good Scouts and on future excursions never neglected supplies or other camping requirements.
Our first night on site was mistily damp, still and cold. When the fire was reduced to embers that gave out no further warmth, Skeet, David and I retired to our respective tents for a good night’s sleep. We knew tomorrow would be a very physically active day.
About one o’clock in the morning I felt the call of nature, rose reluctantly from my warm sleeping bag and stepped from my tent into another world. I looked with awe upon a world that I had never seen before nor since.
A thick white mist carpeted the ground to a depth of about a metre. The ground could not be seen. I felt that I was walking high among the clouds. Blue gums, lit by a brilliant full moon, which peered from equally brilliant broken white clouds, had an ethereal quality which defies human description. In the light of this night their trunks retained their normal pale blue colour but the trunks appeared to be much longer, or higher, as if stretching for the moon. From some place a solitary owl hooted, but otherwise the world was soundless. I stood for what seemed to be an eternity unconsciously etching the unforgettable scene into my very being before returning to my bed.
I have spent many years in the bush and have seen many beautiful sights, but that Blue Gum forest scene could hardly be bettered. That I alone was granted the privilege of seeing it gave it added significance. After a refreshing nights sleep I rose about six o’clock. Despite a light cool breeze a little mist lingered and all was still quiet. Everyone was still asleep.
Since childhood I have always believed that if the sun was up so, should I be. It then seemed logical that, if the sun and I were up, the rest of the world should do likewise. There was so much to be accomplished so why linger in bed? My loud early morning singing wasn’t appreciated. Skeet jokingly believed that most Leaders should be a good example for the boys, but that it was also necessary that they should have a bad example as well against which to measure the good. As a result of this policy he sometimes insisted upon sleeping in while the camp stirred around him. He also believed in camp comfort to the extent that, where possible, he would bring to camps such an un-Scout-like item as an air bed.
Naturally Scouts and some Scout Leaders frowned upon such luxury and we often united in common purpose to disrupt whatever early morning dreams he might be having. I recall extreme cases where Skeet’s tent somehow collapsed upon him, or where water somehow got into bed with him, much to his disgust. On the Blue Gum camp I deemed it my pleasure to insert a match stick into the air valve of his bedding.
Once awake (or as in many cases, only just awake) the ever important business of eating took priority over everything else. This was followed by Camp inspection where every detail of Patrol activity was scrutinised. Personal and camp site hygiene were considered of vital importance. Translated this meant that we Leaders did not want to have to carry sick boys back up the mountain. Cooking equipment, bedding, clothing, finger nails had to be clean and Patrol camp areas had to be better than when the Scouts had arrived at the site.
Patrols which neglected some hygiene aspects were expected to immediately rectify the situation. Until such time as they did so we postponed any planned activity. The whole camp was kept at attention until inspection was completed. Naturally the Scouts wanted to get on with the fun ahead and they were ill disposed towards any Patrol which held up the fun. New Scouts therefore soon learned to toe the line. Once the inspection was behind us, Patrol Leaders, who had assisted in planning the activities, took over the whole Troop and lead it to the various activities.
Scouting was for boys only in those days (girls were not yet permitted into Scouting) so we Leaders were quite happy to let the Scouts do as much work as possible of their own initiative. We Leaders considered that our role was best performed as a type of umpire or referee. We preferred not to interfere in their activities unless some situation looked like it could get out of hand. With all due modesty we believed that our type of Leadership worked very well. Besides, it meant less work for us.
On the Blue Gum camp the first major activity was a long hike which involved most Scouts in learning about compass work. The older Scouts’ compass work covered areas where abseiling was necessary to cross the terrain. All Scout Patrols had to build a rope bridge at some time on the hike.
No one became lost (I had great difficulty working with one Patrol on back bearing work, but no one was ever really lost). I told my lads that I had deliberately made a mistake in order to teach them how to get out of trouble. Actually, although I did teach them something from my error, it was later reported that the most important lesson which this Patrol learnt was that one should never trust a Leader’s compass work (very unkind).
The older Scouts enjoyed their activity and at the same time they taught simple techniques to others. The bridge building was a bit of a laugh. Some strange looking bridges were erected and tested successfully, but one bridge, which did not look at all satisfactory to me, held the weight of six hefty lads until they got to its centre. Then it slowly gave way and dropped the lads into the very cold, but luckily, shallow river.
Back at base we all had a short rest, collected timber for an evening Troop bonfire, then cooked and enjoyed out dinner. At sundown the bonfire was lit, much to the delight of the closet pyromaniacs, who found extra energy to locate extra timber in order to keep the flames roaring. Gradually the energy diminished with a consequential diminishing of flames. One Patrol commenced singing. One by one other Patrols joined in in full voice. I found it interesting that both old and young Scouts sang mostly old, traditional songs like “Kum-baya”, “There’s a Long Long Trail A-winding”, “Waltzing Matilda”, “Pack Up Your Troubles” etc.
When the singing eventually stopped, comedians and storytellers took over. Some very good acts followed, also some “corny” ones which came mainly from the Leaders. These were unceremoniously booed off stage. There were one or two acts of a questionable nature and these were treated to the derision they deserved.
Finally, as the flames turned into glowing embers, a few really tired boys hit their sacks, but others found their appetites (again!) which they satisfied by cooking toast in the embers. Scouters and Scouts broke off into groups with no distinction of age or Patrol. Quiet conversations continued until reluctantly I announced “Time for bed.” Very quickly “good nights” were said and in a surprisingly short time silence (except for Skeet’s snoring) reigned.
Dawn came and by eight o’clock we again moved out of camp. Skeet and David had spent most of the previous day devising a Treasure Hunt. Each Patrol was given a list of numerous compass bearings (carefully worked out by Skeet and David) which led them all over the local countryside until, if they did their compass work correctly, they would arrive at the “treasure” (a chocolate or something else which appealed to their taste buds). Younger Patrols were provided with bearings relating to heavily timbered but fairly flat areas. The older and more proficient Scouts received bearings which took them over rugged terrain, up small cliffs and several times over the river.
Skeet and David went with the younger Patrols while I set off with the seniors. I could hike, climb steep slopes and wade streams as good as most Leaders my age, but baulked at abseiling from great heights. We had another rule which said that anyone who did not wish to abseil did not have to . That rule suited me fine. We set off at a cracking pace and crossed a few fast flowing streams with some difficulty by linking arms or using poles for support. We climbed some rugged, rocky hills then, when the boys took what I insisted was the easy and fast way down by abseiling, I descended the hard, slow way on foot.
We came to a portion of the river where it was quite deep and fast flowing. The river banks were quite high and the only way across was to go over a tree trunk which had fallen across the river. The Scouts took the crossing in their stride, literally running across it. However I had other ideas. I had only taken a few steps across when I was suddenly asking myself “What am I doing here?” The distance from one side of the river to my waiting Scouts suddenly seemed to be much further. The beautiful fast flowing river became less inviting. In fact it looked downright menacing. I developed a vertigo attack (another name for cowardice) and retreated to my side of the river. I told the lads to carry on without me which they promptly did, as though they were pleased to see the end of someone who was hindering their progress.
I waited until they passed from my view and then slunk back to base camp. It was just as well that I did return to the camp. We were always careful with fires. Where water was available we used it to extinguish flames, then we would scatter the embers and cover them with dirt. All these precautions had been taken by the Scouts and Leaders, but after I returned to camp and was resting I suddenly smelled smoke. I looked around to see where it was coming from and saw nothing until I looked at my feet. A small trail of fire, no wider than a couple of inches, was threading its way between my legs and heading for high dry grass. Seldom have I moved so fast. I quickly stamped out the fire and then tracked it back to its source which turned out to be a hard knot of wood which had somehow survived all our precautions.
About one o’clock the various Patrols returned to camp. Despite some difficulties, all had achieved their goals and eaten their “treasure” but that did not prevent them from eating a hearty lunch. A siesta had wisely been include in the program and was welcomed. Most people rested until about three o’clock when soccer games, touch football and other sports soon had them on the move again.
After yet another meal we played a game similar to “releasings” where the Troop split into two teams. One team hid in the bush while the other team, armed with torches, set out to locate and capture them. A bit of cheating took place. The offenders received a tongue lashing from the others but it was all good fun except for one boy who tried to hide in prickly grass.
About nine o’clock the Leaders called a halt so everybody retired for a cuppa and then to bed by ten. A few talked for a while in the dark confines of their tents, but tiredness soon overcame any desire to continue. I know that I was grateful to bed down. I thought for a while of the day’s work and was well satisfied. Blissful sleep soon became mine also.
Next morning, by prior agreement I quietly woke the Scouters whilst the boys slept on. We quickly and quietly packed most of our gear, dismantled our tents and carried them to a nearby untouched area, then while one of us prepared breakfast on our new site, the others tried to return the original camp site back to its original, pristine condition. We Scouters always impressed upon our Scouts that we must always leave our campsites in better condition than when we arrived.
We woke the lads and gave them ample time to eat, attend to hygiene matters, dismantle their tents and pack some equipment, then we went with Patrol Leaders to inspect the Scouts’ sites. The older boys’ sites were in their usual good condition but we had a few laughs at the younger lads’ efforts to take short cuts. While they professed to having done their washing up earlier and already had packed their gear we found, when we asked them to unpack their kits, that the washing up had not in fact been done. “We were going to do it at home Shih,” they said. The offenders were made to wash every item they had, whether it was dirty or not. Their sites were clean, but in nearby shrubs and in tree trunk hollows we found copious quantities of garbage which was supposed to have been dealt with in the required manner. Again the culprits had to rectify their mistakes. It took a long time before campsite inspection was completed.
We deliberately overdid the fuss about leaving the camp better than when we found it. It always got the same reaction. Eventually it did come from a brash young Scout. “OK,” he said, “our sites are perfect. Can we now inspect the Leaders’ site?” Naturally we agreed. They did find the vestiges of our breakfast fire as the ground was still warm in that area, but they were still wondering how we managed to do such a good clean up. No other trace of our weekend camp could be found. Naturally we never did enlighten them.
It was time to depart. Uniforms were worn for we liked to put on a show for anyone seeing us coming out of the valley. Looking good was considered “cool” even in those days. We wanted to be recognised as active Scouts.
We checked to see that we had not lost any boys, then reluctantly filed out of camp for the long hike back. It seemed to take longer getting out of the Blue Gum forest than it took going in. You might recall that when we were coming into the valley from the tourist lookout Scouters assisted Scouts across an area which was considered potentially dangerous. It so happened that it later became extremely dangerous for, saturated with water, the cliff face slid off into the valley. Fortunately no one was there at the time.
Luckily some Rover Scouts had been operating on this site. They realised the difficulty involved in overcoming this new obstacle. They immediately set to devoting much time and effort to making the ascent safe again. Using ropes and tackle they drove pins into the remaining solid cliff face rock and made rope handrails for support. Where they could they also carved footholes for extra safety. I can tell you that we really appreciated their unstinting devotion in helping others for we were extremely fatigued by the time we got to this point. Now no one had any difficulty negotiating the landslide.
A short time later we arrived at the rendezvous point where parents were waiting with transport and light refreshments. I recall that I was too exhausted to move any further and just stood by my own car with haversack still on my back. I remember that Ken Walker recognised my plight and came to relieve me of my pack. Soon we all headed off for the approximately 100 km drive to Berowra, arriving at the Scout Hall about 7:00pm. We unloaded all our Scout equipment into Patrol and Troop storage areas. I took this opportunity to remind the young, extremely tired Scouts that we were lucky that we did our equipment cleaning before leaving camp otherwise we would now be doing it in the Scout Hall. I think they saw my point. We soon left and locked the Hall and went our respective ways. I had a good soak in a hot bath and looked forward to going to work the next day for a “rest.”
