Caravanning on a Shoestring in the 60’s
It sounded exciting – the offer of an old caravan which was no longer needed. It had been stationary at the beach for some years, and now the Council said, “All temporary structures must go “. It was plywood and of course would need a bit of work but Charlie was good with building things and had an eye for a bit of style. All that was needed were a couple of second hand tyres.
Now it just so happened that our neighbor, Rex, was in the tyre business and said,”I’ve got two that will get you home from the coast. You can have them for a couple of quid “. So it was soon relocated to our home where we were still living on the outskirts of the city with 2 young children aged 17 months and 3 years.
Charlie put new cupboards in the van, painted it inside and out and did various other repairs. Then, when the van was considered habitable, with the enthusiasm of youth and no money, we rented out our house and set off on a working holiday.
We enjoyed trouble free motoring all the way to the Redcliffe turnoff (1 hour away) when the first of the second hand tyres blew. Well, that was lucky, – we were near a garage and managed to get a replacement and were soon on our way again.
Our van was quite comfortable, with a double bed plus the dining table which we folded down to make the children’s beds. Having no stove was a challenge, but it wouldn’t be an adventure without a campfire, would it? And a fridge would have been nice but powdered milk and tinned food could save the day when necessary.
Now, those of you who may have been waiting for fresh fruit and vegetables from North Queensland around that time may have had to wait a bit longer when the main bridge leading south was blocked for some hours by a jacked up caravan. The other second hand tyre had expired. Charlie said,”You wait here with the van and the kids while I go and get a replacement “. Was he serious?? We quickly jumped into the car with him… Still, road rage was not endemic back then and when it was fixed we continued on, unmolested.
They do say it’s the journey, not the destination that is important……
Our destination was a remote family property in the far North of the state, so our journey allowed us to camp beside some beautiful rivers and beaches along the way. These places are now mostly organized tourist resorts.
But it was still not plain sailing. The children became ill with a fever which was diagnosed as a suspected mild case of measles, but thankfully not serious. We continued on our way and then the rain started. The windows were waterproof when stationary but the wind when travelling forced the water through the cracks.
By this time we were on the last leg of our journey. This one would take all day driving on dirt roads, over a range, across corduroy bridges and even across creek bed crossings with a steep rise on the other side. That was a challenge with a heavy caravan behind. There was one crossing with a roadhouse – no electricity of course – but a petrol bowser with an old fashioned, hand operated pump. The owner was kind enough to give that extra heave we needed to reach the top of the rise when we left.
The rain by now had come in through more places than the windows. How did this water, mud and gravel come to be on the floor? Charlie?? Ah- I didn’t have time to put wheel wells in. I was going to do it when we got there.
We surveyed the mess and 70 miles from our destination we came to a unanimous decision. We unhitched the van, took the essentials and headed for some home comforts with the waiting family.
Tomorrow was another day and willing hands returned to rescue our home on wheels which housed us safely for the next eight months
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