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Road rage

Time for a change

5.55am - Saturday 5th January 2013

Friday was an interesting day; it started at 9.44pm on Thursday evening.

I was about to enjoy a rather late dinner of Singapore Noodles when my secure and comfortable world began to change. The mobile phone beeped to indicate receipt of an SMS message, most unusual for me to receive an SMS at almost 10pm? I pressed a button, the message came into view and triggered one of my deepest fears. It was a "Help" message sent from a Spot Messenger by my son Chris who was currently camped in remote and inaccessible bush in central Gippsland.

Although this region is not far from civilisation when measured by kilometres the ruggedness of the country and the very poor dirt and rocky tracks which service it make access with anything but a capable low range four-wheel drive and experienced driver all but impossible. The forest is often too dense to penetrate on foot and the tracks frequently so steep that when walking them one is almost reduced to crawling. Most of the creeks at the valley bases will be dry for most of the year and, of course,  there is no water on the upper slopes of the hills. In winter the temperatures routinely drop to freezing or below and in summer may peak at 50C! It is not country for a “Bush Walk”.

However there are many, hard to access, locations on the creeks and rivers, which do maintain a year round flow, and if one is prepared to overcome the difficulties of access they are delightful and peaceful places in which to camp for a few days amongst the gums and animals. The campsite Chris and Graham were occupying was one such place.

This is its location:
Campsite location
or, if the link won't work:
-37.56149,147.39343

I rushed to the computer to retrieve the e-mail which the Spot also sends and look up the map coordinates of the message origin on Google Maps. The message had been sent from the locations of Chris' campsite on the Wentworth River. What the hell had happened? An accident in camp? Someone shot? A chainsaw accident? Fell over, broke a leg, Drunk? There was no way to tell but I know my son very well and I *know* he would not send an emergency message to me at 10pm unless something was seriously wrong.

The land-line phone began ringing and I answered, it was my friend Craig (VK3NCR) he was also (along with another friend, Richard) on the Spot list of people who receive "Help" messages. Craig offered to come and pick me up and drive me to the message location, as I don't have a four wheel drive vehicle at present, I accepted with heartfelt and grateful thanks.

Years ago a UK insurance company ran a TV advertisement with the slogan; "We won't make a drama out of a crisis" and this is exactly the approach which is needed to handle emergencies. Over the years (experience *does* bring some wisdom - although the young find that hard to believe) I have learned to handle these sorts of situations calmly, slowly and by thinking things through before taking action.

It's a five hour drive from my home to Chris' campsite and the final five kilometres of that a hard drive down a difficult four wheel drive track which I didn't think Craig would want to take his vehicle down and so I'd have to walk perhaps four kilometres of that track. The weather for tomorrow is forecast to be 40C+ with very high bush fire danger, this does nothing to alleviate my concern. It was appropriate, I considered, to call the police and institute emergency procedures.

The nearest police station to Chris is at Bairnsdale, I dialled 000, explained and asked if they could put me through to Bairnsdale police, they couldn't but helpfully gave me a direct number. I called Bairnsdale, explained the situation in detail, the officer took my contact information and said he would start the process. A few minutes later Const. Gavin called and ask me to forward the Spot Messenger "Help" e-mail to him, I did. Shortly after that Const. Paul from Victoria Police Search & Rescue squad called and we had a long and detailed discussion. Paul accepted this was a serious potential emergency and said he would get someone from Bairnsdale police to go to the campsite. I was relieved but my fears for Chris and Graham still loomed large and painfully in my mind.

It's 10.45pm one hour has passed since the first "Help" message. The tension is maintained because every five minutes for the next one and a half hours my mobile phone beeps and another Spot Messenger "Help" message arrived, 17 in total. After the "Help" function is activated the Spot Messenger automatically sends a message every five minutes until it is switched off.

Whilst the above is happening Richard calls my mobile to inform me he has received a "Help" message from Chris. I respond to him tersely and, I think, almost rudely in my abruptness. That is not my intention but I am in "Emergency solution mode" and any information which is not useful to me is distracting - I surprise myself slightly by how analytical and detached I am. My apologies Richard.

Craig arrived some time ago but I've largely ignored him whilst I was dealing with the police. It's time to leave but before we do I need to stop, relax, and think calmly for a few minutes. Have we got everything? First aid kit, torches, spare batteries, money, credit cards, appropriate clothing and footwear, whistle, water, maps, GPS, hand-held radio, is there anything else...? I toss in the roll of kitchen paper towel as an afterthought.

We set off, Craig is driving, we talk for a while and then a silence briefly settles as we're both wondering what the hell we are going to find at the end of this long drive? Broken bodies? My last son dead? Not much left for me after that - it would be the end of my journey I think. I banish such thoughts with anger. They are only negative, I have no idea what's happened and cannot make any kind of sensible guess. Maybe the Spot Messenger has malfunctioned? Maybe Chris was drunk and thought it would be fun to see what happened if he pressed the "Help" button? Maybe someone has fallen and broken a leg? Who knows? There is no point in speculating. Craig and I agree such speculation is useless and we resume chatting about something else, the two of us always seem to find something to talk about, he is a good - no, not good - outstanding friend and I feel privileged and humbled that he has chosen to befriend me. This is far from the first time he has provided help and support to me but, I suspect, it will be the most arduous and demanding of him. I know he doesn't expect it but I hope that, one day, I am able to return such an unselfish, supportive, kind and generous attitude to him.

People such as Craig are rare and valuable gems and enhance the lives of those with who they come into contact. If we are lucky enough in our life to find one of them we should consider ourselves truly fortunate.

After two hours we reach the town of Traralgon and stop at the MacDonalds for a coffee and loo break. The cafe is open but the waitress informs us the toilets are closed for cleaning and the coffee machine has broken - an inauspicious omen. Having a need for the loo we stop at the edge of town on a quiet country road and do what we have to, halfway through said process a police car appears from nowhere and a voice enquires what we are doing - we tell them. The officers are good natured and we continue our journey.

Another hour and we arrive in the town of Sale where the MacDonalds provides rather poor coffee but we'll accept anything as we're tired and need the caffeine. I order some chips and cover them in two packs of salt as I suspect my body is going to use a lot of it over the next 24 hours.

One hour later and we're in the bush proper on dirt roads. Craig, sensibly, reduces speed to give him a better chance of avoiding the animals which, invariably, leap out in front of cars at night - kangaroos especially and a big roo will wipe out a car and probably its occupants too.

A dark shadow shows up in the headlights 100m ahead; as we approach it transforms into a young wombat and scampers away from us at its top speed. I remember Chris petting a wombat at the wildlife park in Sydney when he was ten and I wonder if he'll ever see another one.

The bush road is rough, winding, dark and seemingly never ending but the map and GPS confirm we are making progress. I've driven this road before and remember how long it seemed then, at night time it seems longer.

It's 4am (always the low point of the night) and we're tired - Craig is doing a magnificent job with the driving and we're only about 15km from the track which leads down to Chris' camp on the Wentworth River. I know that track; I've driven it twice and I suspect it will not agree with Craig's almost brand new vehicle and I do not blame him for that. I decided long ago that I would walk the track although I know it will be an effort for me - almost 60, overweight and seriously unfit. We go through a lot of love and pain to raise our children and I'll do whatever is required to ensure his well-being. However I'm angry with him too! He knew Friday was going to be a 40C+ day and he should never have made the decision to go bush on such a day. He also failed to properly prepare for the trip only deciding to go at the last minute, borrowing my camping gear just the day before. Neither he nor Graham seemed to have any idea of trip planning or who was taking what - they were operating on the "She'll be right mate" plan! Because of this I was grumpy with him when he picked up the camping gear from me - now I wonder if my last contact with my son was going to be one of anger?

It's around 4.30am and we arrive at the start of the track to the campsite. It's a hard track to find and is not shown on most maps, the police were confused because their maps don't show it. Craig turns on to the track and we begin what I know will be the most difficult part of the journey.

After a kilometre or so one of us remarks that the police are going to have a difficult job finding the track so we decide to leave the vehicle here and walk back to, somehow, mark the location of the turn in order that a motorist will recognise it. Craig locks the vehicle before we leave. Can't be too careful I guess...? :)

Although the walk is more down than up by the time we reach the road my muscles are hurting, I'm sweating profusely and my breathing is laboured. I inhale a few bugs (gotta love head torches) and cough rackingly. It's clear I'm not best placed for a harsh bush walk.

The small gum bushes are in full white flower and I suggest we break off their branches and spread them across the road as a marker, Craig sensibly amends my suggestion that we create an arrow instead. Just as we complete this work of art we hear a vehicle and a police car arrives - as the driver alights I comment to him that we have done a delightful floral arrangement in order to welcome him. I've often thought police officers lacked a sense of the ridiculous - my thoughts were confirmed :)

Craig and I eagerly suggest driving the police vehicle down the track to the river but Sgt. Matt says it's not suitable for such work - he's probably right. So we decide the three of us will return to Craig's vehicle and continue the journey.

Craig is wonderful. Despite the fact that I can hear and feel the branches scratching the sides of his vehicle and I can almost receive telepathic messages of distress from him he continues down the track despite its worsening. We're well down now but still a long way to go I think.  We hear a "clang!" as something, a tree stump?, hits the vehicle; Craig asks "How far down do you think we are Jim?". "About three quarters" I reply knowing we're only halfway. "Can we walk from here?" he asks. I reckon the man has done far more than could be expected from a friendship and I suggest we can.

Off we set with torches and water bottles down a rough bush track 2m wide and with a moderately steep descent to the Wentworth River. It's still pitch dark but my LED head torch provides good illumination of the track. Craig and Matt set the pace and I gradually fall behind them, they're both fitter (and younger) than me so I'll go at my pace and I figure that if I collapse they'll eventually realise I'm not there and come back to find me.

I didn't have a watch (a mistake) so didn't know for how long we had been walking, it seemed longer and further than I had expected. I was wearing good quality hiking boots but, nevertheless, it was sometimes difficult to keep my balance on the steeper sections of the track.

Craig and Matt were about 200m ahead of me and finally I heard Craig calling "Chris, Chris" at the top of his voice. They must have reached the river. A couple of minutes later I joined them, Chris and Graham would have camped on the far side of the river so we'd have to wade it to reach them. We called for Chris again and, to my enormous relief, he called back and appeared on the far bank of the river. As best I could see in the dark (a little light was appearing in the east) he seemed in one piece and was moving normally. Were I not an atheist I would have offered a prayer of thanks, instead I simply said "Thank you" to the gods of the bush, whoever they are?

Chris waded the river, it's 300mm deep, to our side - I hug him tightly and my eyes fill with tears, he returns my embrace I can feel a little of the stress lift from his shoulders.

Chris begins his story:

At 5pm he and Graham were messing around in the river when Graham said he was going up to their camp, Chris said he would follow in five minutes and Graham left. The campsite is not visible from the river.

Five minutes or so later Chris returned to the campsite but there was no sign of Graham or his vehicle nor was there a note or any indication of what had happened to Graham. As they had both travelled in the one vehicle Chris was now confined to the campsite with no transport. All Graham's camping gear was still there so it seemed unlikely he had gone home in a huff or similar.

We asked Chris if they had had an argument or falling out but he said no and I know them both to be very placid people who would avoid confrontation rather than engage in it.

Shortly before 10pm Chris decided "something bad" had happened to Graham and pressed the "Help" button on the Spot Messenger. It was a good decision.

We decide that this has now become a full search and rescue operation and I suggest bringing in the police helicopter - it's almost light. Sgt. Matt wants to use police four-wheel drive vehicles initially and uses his hand-held radio to try and communicate with the radio repeater system in his police vehicle which, in turn, will allow him access to the main police radio network. However our valley is too deep and he cannot make contact with his vehicle so decides to walk back up the track to it. We agree that I will stay with Chris at the campsite and Craig will walk back up to his vehicle and then drive to the town of Bairnsdale where he will wait at the police station for us. I do not envy either of them the return walk but, at least, they'll do it before the sun rises high.

Chris and I walk to his camp. He is deflated and emotionally drawn; he's slept little in the night and spent much of it speculating upon what has happened to Graham. A vehicle accident seems most likely, this is hard, tough, mountainous country and a small driving mistake can cause a four-wheel drive to run off the road and roll a couple of kilometres down a hillside. You'll not survive such an accident.

I get Chris working to take his mind off things, the camp needs to be packed up before the sun rises - it's going to be 43C - we have a cup of coffee and I try to cheer him up, maybe Graham's vehicle has just broken down? We often think the worst but it doesn't always come out that way. Although, truth be told, I wonder if I'll ever see Graham again.

Sgt, Matt had said he'd organise a police four-wheel drive to come into the valley and pick us up. Once we have the camp packed up we move our chairs into the shade and wait. I institute a brief game of "I Spy" but Chris immediately guesses that my "T" stands for tree, he didn't do so well with my "Y" for yacht though :) His spirits are lifting a little and we continue waiting.

Eventually we hear the unmistakable sound of a large diesel four-wheel drive in low range approaching from the east - the same track we had walked in on. Odd, I had expected them to arrive from the west, the way Graham had left and where Matt and I had discussed the search should begin from.

Soon after, we're very pleased to see a Bairnsdale SES Nissan Patrol turn into camp. The two SES guys get out and tell us what has happened:

Having walked back to his vehicle and after clearing vegetation for 300m or more Craig had driven his vehicle back up the track and commenced his journey to Bairnsdale, Sgt. Matt was still at the track junction with his vehicle organising the search. About two kilometres along the road Craig sees a young man walking towards him, he stops and asks "Are you Graham?", Graham confirms that he is.

Craig and Graham return to Sgt. Matt and the search is called off. Craig insists that Chris and I are driven out of the valley - he's a good bloke to have on your side. The SES are called in to get us - to walk out probably would have killed me, the sun is now high and the temperature around 30C or more and heading towards that 43C top.

It seems that, at 5pm yesterday, Graham simply decided it would be a good idea to go for a drive-about. Why he didn't tell Chris is still beyond my comprehension. Sometime later he made another decision to do a three point turn on a bush road which is about 150mm wider than his vehicle is long. This was a curious use of logic because 25m further along the road and in Graham's full view was a significantly larger area where a bus could have been safely turned. In addition, there was a very long and very steep drop from the road which I would not have attempted to even walk down.

Unsurprisingly, Graham went so close to the edge that the road beneath him fell away and his vehicle began to plummet over the edge. If there is a God he must have been smiling on Graham that day for once that vehicle began its journey gravity should have ensured it gained speed and began to roll perhaps fifty or more times before finally crashing into the dry creek at the distant base of the valley and probably starting a bush fire in the process. But it didn't. Instead it travelled only about 20m before its wheels became stuck in the loose soil and it lodged, precariously, just below the road level.

Determined to persevere with his newfound logical decision making process Graham then proceeded to spend the night sleeping in the vehicle, clearly, Graham has more confidence in God than do I!

Once morning arrived, and because he didn't have any water (I know) Graham commenced walking to find some - I don't believe he had a map, compass or GPS either - and that was when Craig found him.

So now we're all together and safe, what to do next? Sgt Matt provides the details of a specialist four-wheel drive recovery company in Warragul, about four hours drive away, Graham is very fortunate to have just a sniff of mobile phone coverage at this location my phone, with the same carrier, does not have any coverage. Graham organises the vehicle recovery and the recovery guys say they'll be here in about five hours. We find a place in the shade and wait... the temperature climbs to 43C.... Graham's popularity drops to minus 869 degrees.

Finally, the recovery guys arrive, Craig and I leave, Graham's vehicle is recovered and Chris and Graham drive back to the campsite to collect their gear and then return home.

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Consequences and people who have been affected:

Victoria Police - man hours and money wasted, police officers not available for other, more important purposes. A police officer risks his safety in the bush at night.

SES - two guys had their day ruined and took the risk of driving a track they should have had no need to be on.

Chris was worried sick all night.

Graham's wife and parents informed he was a "Missing Person" in remote bush.

I was placed under a *lot* of stress for many hours, not knowing if my son was injured or dead. Risks to my safety.

My friend Craig, damage to his vehicle, risks to his safety.

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Cost:

Don't know what police and SES costs were but I'll guess about $7000 for the use of a police officer and his vehicle for the night, plus the other officers who were involved, the SES vehicle and the two guys.

My cost; a day's income lost - I charge by the hour and don't come cheaply. Expenses, food for Craig and myself, fuel.

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Lessons which should have been learned from this experience:

Chris: learn to make better decisions, don't be carried away by others and think through the possible negative outcomes before committing to a course of action.

Jim: ensure we always take an HF radio into the bush in addition to the Spot. Set up a documented procedure to follow after a Spot "Help" message is received. Write full instructions for HF radio use.

Graham: where to start with you!? My major request to you is that you really *LEARN* from this experience. Consider what motivated you to take the actions you did and why you followed what, irrefutably, were actions of the highest foolishness. If it was alcohol (and I don't think it was?) then stop drinking otherwise you need to look very, very carefully at the way you operate because if you carry on in this fashion then, sooner or later, your foolish decisions will kill someone.

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Conclusion:

Our actions affect others.

If we choose to behave in a risky manner we should not expect others to risk their physical safety purely because of our decisions.

We do not have a right to cause needless or inappropriate mental anguish to those people who are close to us.

Whilst we should not avoid all risk taking behaviour we should avoid foolish risks and we should analyse and quantify the risks we do choose to take.

If we want to do whatever we wish without regard to its impact upon others then leave the Spot Messenger at home and just risk your own safety against the bush - you have that right, you do not have the right to drag others down with you.




Page last updated January 2013