Showing results by narrator "Janet Watson Kruse" in All Categories

The unique characters of the outback will touch your heart as Swampy presents all the drama and delight of life in remote Australia. There are tales of all-night revelry, the pub that became a refuge during a bushfire, the 13-year-old sent from the city to work on a remote sheep station, the priest with a sideline in illegal poker games, a sighting of the elusive yowie, a murder or two and a few ghosts thrown in for good measure. And, yes, the saddest story of all – the pub with no beer.

Master storyteller Bill 'Swampy' Marsh has travelled the length and breadth of the country to gather their tales of adventure and misadventure, drama and mayhem, and larrikinism and laughter, to create this memorable collection of real-life stories about those on the front-line in the heart of Australia.

Melbourne, 1927. The summer flowers smell like Christmas the night Zara Dickins meets Harry Holt. Zara is wearing a dress she has designed and made herself. White organdie over a short black slip, with black embroidery and a crimson taffeta sash. It is party season and the university crowd are celebrating end-of-year exams. Zara loves dancing with the boys and flirting with them, but it's a game to her. Nothing serious. Until Harry. He plans to be a politician once he finishes law. She, a fashion designer, if she can find a way to break out of the secretarial pool.

When writer Catherine Deveny faced the end of a 17-year relationship with the father of her children, she had no idea what lay on the other side of the months of tumult—she just knew she had to create space for a new life. But this wasn’t the first time Deveny had taken a plunge into the unknown or let go of conventional assumptions. In True North, she shares how she emerged from an oppressive Catholic upbringing in working-class Reservoir, found her tribe in Fitzroy’s share houses in the '80s and learnt to live life on her own terms.

After I'd got him out of harm's way, I dived back in yet again and swam out past the surf-break, out to where the other two lads were floundering. Then, one at a time, I took them back onto the rocks – all done against the raging rip and wild surf. By then an hour or so had passed. Still, severe cuts, bruises and abrasions aside, I'd successfully saved the lives of the four young people who, in all probability, would've otherwise drowned.