A Tribute to an Old Drover - Ron Cody

                      A TRIBUTE to an OLD DROVER

Australia lost some more of her bush history, just the other day,

When an old outback drover named Ron Cody, sadly passed away.

A stranger to me, although I spoke to him on the phone one time,

After his son Bill asked me to put some of his Dad’s story into rhyme.

From Dandenong to Winton via Muranji and all country in between,

Ron saw many things of which blokes like me can only dream.

For his yarns I would have gladly paid a yearly subscription price,

Hearing about the old days and perhaps getting an old stockman’s advice.

These days many believe his was a romantic, easy way of living,

On the road with cattle, away for months in country most unforgiving.

No doubt he followed the tracks of legends, along the Muranji for one,

That hollow, empty ground where bullocks spook with the setting sun.

His later years weren’t easy caused by a shortness of breath,

Something that stayed with him right up until his death.

Perhaps caused by cigarettes or the choking air behind a mob,

Lungs filled with cattle dust, it was just part of the drover’s job.

He’s droving somewhere different now, where stock routes are full of grass,

And there’s always a friendly wave for the drovers as they pass.

There is no more riding watch at night!  No, it’s yarns around the fire,

The bullocks they just feed about as though held in by strands of wire.

Let Ron’s passing not go unnoticed outside the boundaries of Winton town,

Cattlemen one of our own has gone, so fill a glass and throw it down.

Let’s drink to the days of the drovers, when cattle walked Australia wide,

When Queensland men crossed the Territory to Kimberley on the other side.

The feats of the past are misunderstood except by some still in the game,

Many of these men were pioneers but history does not record their name.

Ron Cody may you Rest in Peace, may the horses you ride be good,

And may I say you lived the life that I dreamt of while in my childhood.

                                                                                       Sleep easy Ron!

Ron Cody went to new stock routes on Friday September 24^th 2010.

                                                                        © Corin Linch 28/9/2010

Below is the first poem I wrote about Ron at his son bill's request.

FROM DANDENONG to WINTON via the MURANJI TRACK

The STORY of RON CODY a Drover

I was looking at an old faded photo of a drover from yesteryear,

Thinking I’d like to meet him and maybe with him share a beer,

Sit down by a camp fire and listen to the droving stories he had to tell,

How early in the morning he’d listen for the sound of a Condamine bell.

“That’s Ron Cody” someone said “you most likely don’t know his name,

Lives in Winton now, born in ’26, long retired from the droving game.”

He was brought up on a Dandenong dairy; he enjoyed life on the land,

Left school at thirteen and while milking his working future he planned.

Fifteen bob a week was his wage, but he thought of Australia’s north,

So saying `Goodbye` to his mother for Brisbane he sallied forth.

On good advice he headed west, arriving in Cloncurry in 1941

He’d been assured there’d be work on one of the big stock runs.

He got a job with Fred Quinlan droving 10,000 wethers to Julia Creek,

It was a hard life for a lad that only had a fifteen year old physique.

Then the stock camp at Alcala; George Cummins and bullocks on the road,

A tough life for a kid but a good grounding and in his later life it showed.

Nugget Quinlan was buying horses for Vesty’s; they had to go to Waterloo,

Ron signed up for the trip and became a part of Nugget’s crew.

They spent some time breaking in before they could get under way,

A total mob of four hundred horses, something you won’t see today.

The trip would take nineteen weeks, doing eight to ten mile a day,

A day’s duration depended on the conditions they found along the way.

From the ‘Curry to Wave Hill, via Newcastle Waters and the Muranji,

There among the Bulwaddy and Lancewood the bodies of dead men lie.

Men killed riding night watch while trying to stop a mad stampede,

It was no place for the faint hearted, on that all drovers are agreed.

The hollow ground of the Muranji would often gave the stock a fright,

No fences then in that country, they had to watch ‘em close at night.

Some men got crook with Yellow Fever the mob got held up four days,

But no worries to Nugget, there was no hurry, and he was used to delays.

It was all good experience, although it was experience hard earned,

But lessons taught the hard way are never forgotten once learned.

Ron stayed on with Nugget sometimes working in the camp at Waterloo,

Or on the road to Wyndham with bullocks, helping to see them through.

Moving on, 1946 found him at Avon, ’47 at Alexandria for a year

Working throughout Australia’s north what was the last frontier.

As a horse tailor he went with Arthur Parker for five pound a week,

All the time learning about stock and the correct droving technique.

Bringing mobs into Winton he spent 22 weeks straight on the road,

It was all packhorses back in ’48, no trucks then to carry their load.

Around the age of 22, Ron met the woman, who was to be his wife,

But the call of the road was strong and he continued with the droving life.

He got a job with Pat Fogarty and was `Foges` horse tailor for a while,

As fat bullocks fed and walked the road to railheads, mile after dusty mile.

Things changed in nineteen fifty-six he got his own droving plant together,

Ron walked Kidman cattle to Winton through all types of weather.

Again things changed in the sixties, road transport became all the go,

And walking cattle to the rail heads was considered by many far to slow.

With trucks and a severe drought it seemed the drovers days were at an end,

So in nineteen sixty-three he sold his plant to Jack Stead a droving friend.

But over the years he made many mates on the stations near and far,

Now he swapped the bridle rein for a shovel, pliers and crowbar.

On Cork and Tulmur stations he started fencing; mile after endless mile,

And while tying wires or yard building he dreamed of his old lifestyle.

Walking and feeding cattle by day and watching them in shifts at night,

Singing quietly to the bullocks in the hope that none took fright.

Some names are legendary, perhaps some undeserving of their fame,

Now when the talk turns to drovers, be sure to mention Ron Cody’s name.

Because these men who walked the cattle where a special breed of men,

And sadly in this twenty first century we’ll never see their like again.

Theirs was a lonely vigil riding watch on the herd at night,

Beneath the open sky and stars, far from the cities neon light.

These men were my childhood heroes and they still are today,

Crossing a virgin country where now is a bitumen highway.

                                                                             © Corin Linch 4/2/2010

The Quilty Memorial Campdraft 2013

                   The QUILTY 2013

In twenty-thirteen we would witness real epic Quilty battle,

As nigh on forty horses tried to tame the Coolup cattle.

As the camp work began in earnest, the sun drifted lower in the sky,

For the twenty second running the competitor’s expectations were high.

The judge was Mister David Wilson sitting there quietly on his horse,

He was ready to give or deduct points depending on how they ran the course.

All outside scores would progress on to the second and final round,

But when it was over a tie; a runoff, before the winner could be crowned.

Saltriver CC, *Carrot and Zac all had two scores with a total of 172,

The riders Leigh McLarty, Heath Stewart and my old Parron mate Drew.

Leigh and Heath had both been Quilty winners at least once before,

Drew had been close in the past and always seemed to be knocking on the door.

When the final run off was over and all the adding up formalities complete,

Drew and *Carrot had the trophy and I assure you that’s no mean bloody feat.

                                                                     © Corin Linch 24/11/2013

*Carrot a.k.a Dakota Skip Sekoya

Thank you Allister Butcher for the photo's of Drew Gibbs in action.

The Quilty Memorial Campdraft

Twenty one running's and still going strong Saturday 23rd of November 2013 will see the twenty second episode of this now Prestigious Campdraft. 

    THE QUILTY MEMORIAL OPEN CAMP DRAFT

            Parron Place Badgingarra

Back in September of 92 the Quilty draft got going .

Things were bloody dry up north , down south the creeks were flowing.

The Daley’s and the Potters were just some to load their truck.

And head up to the sand plain and with Herefords try their luck.

The cattle really turned it on testing the drafters’ mettle

Only one horse all week-end could make those baldies settle.

The black stallion Chanway and Gerald got three rounds and a gate,

I'm sure I heard Mick Quilty say “that Kilpatrick’s a horseman mate."

Memories of Sunny and Sundance came flooding back to me,

Horses Mick had rode when he was young and free

But now he's watching from a place where drafters never fail

And that first week end of Spring he's here sitting on the rail.

Spring of 93 was the turn of Jim Daley and Peringa Serenade

They'd travelled up from Capel to take first and truly make the grade.

Once again the steers were tricky no doubt they finished top

It seemed shifting the arena didn't stop their rot.

There's something in that Tagasaste Doc Daley did declare,

That makes them Herefords run the way they do with a fixed hypnotic stare.

I've tried covering the eye, shouldering, still I can't get a gate,

They'd be better off as beef steaks decorating a blooming plate.

You must have Marijuana growing in them Tagasaste trees,

Look at the buggers duck and dive trying to shake the blooming fleas.

94 saw new horse and rider on the scene,

Dick Northcott and Majestic to a southern draft had never been.

They'd honed their skill in Kimberley were cattle are mighty tough,

Where niceties are cast aside and things get pretty rough.

A change in arena placement a change of cattle too,

We had to shift the camp even shift the bloody loo.

The Shorthorn-X were tough to get a peg let alone a gate,

And the judges’ whip more often than not was a rider’s fate.

But when the week end was over we all came to realise

That Dick and Majestic would take home the Quilty prize.

Fathers Day of `95' Yarraween Jewel Spur was the horse,

That sooled them blooming heifers round a controversial left hand course.

Henry Clifton was on a roll seemed he just couldn't lose,

Every beast ran for him no matter which he choose.

He'd had a win in Fitzroy Crossing, a win in Derby too,

But Grasshopper hadn't made the final so maybe there's hope for you.

Saturday night poetry and Boot-scooting in the shearing shed,

Henry saved his energy and hit the swag instead.

Not content with first he rode Lotus to second as well

We've put it to a vote, Henry you need a blooming spell.

The last day of winter 1996 was overcast and grey,

Perhaps it would affect how the cattle ran this day.

The Angus-cross heifers sure proved hard to catch,

More than one competitor knew they'd met their match.

At the end of round one Ben Daley was the one to beat,

And on the first day of Spring we'd have to catch Peringa Elite.

When the final scores were tallied Ben would join this role of renown,

Along-side brother Jim, now there's only the Docs' name to go down

So come on Mr. Daley you'd best lift your blooming game,

If your sons can win this draft I'm sure you can do the same.

The Quilty buckle of `97' went to Dandilla Campass and the Doc,

But only two short months later, all us drafters got a shock,

When we heard along the grapevine that Campass had passed away,

All true camp draft competitors felt for the Doc that day.

We'll remember him as he was blue ribbon, buckle and glory,

No doubt around the camp fires the subject of many a story.

You may be feeling down Doc but I'll guarantee you're not out,

And I reckon you'll be back to show us what drafting’s all about.

But it's sad that Campass won’t be back to defend the title he won this year,

Our sympathies go to the Daleys' on a horse they held so dear.

Cantabilling Springs  Jurien

With the sale of Parron Place a new chapter in the Quilty Draft begins,

And with their kind permission, in '98 it's to be held at Cantabilling Springs.

It's no longer held on Fathers Day but in mid October instead,

We still had a barbie and this time bag-pipes at the shearing shed.

The competition was still fierce out on the drafting course,

A real true test of the cattle, the riders and their horse.

There was some confusion, horses filled places that were wrong,

A novice on the tally sheet had riders were they did not belong.

So when the embarrassment was over and the dust had cleared away,

The buckle went to Freeman and Myona Rivoli, the rightful winners of the day.

Well I never made the Quilty draft in October ‘99,

For I was up mustering cattle on a station near Nullagine

So the following verse is hearsay, I don’t know if it’s true,

And if some of the facts are wrong, I’d best apologise to you.

But I heard that the cattle were feral, and a little out of hand,

An’ the going was rather difficult in the Cantabilling sand.

And a speech on the Republic, I’m told didn’t go down to well,

But a camp draft barbecue has never been the place for politics to sell.

So call him President or King, the fact is Leigh McLarty was the best,

And Princess, or Queen of Queens, was the mighty mare Celeste.

Avondale Coolup

A new century is with us, in the year 2000 the millennium bug is here,

The Quilty drafts’ been moved again, Coolups’ the venue this year.

At the property Avondale with the Tricketts as our hosts,

With the first round run at night they’d be riding with the ghosts.

By crikey it does look speccy, with the arena doused in light,

Bullocks over five hundred kilos oh boy what a sight.

The blood was fairly boiling, the adrenalins got to flow,

As every horse and rider and bullock was having a red hot go.

Terry Hall the judge fresh from a win in the Warwick Gold Cup,

Most times the gate was cleared before the time was up.

With the second round in daylight it was won by Brock and Kebaringup Klaim,

So to the Role of Renown, all we have to do is add the Shepardson name.

For the Quilty draft 2001 on Friday it came in cold and damp,

But by the time the drafting starts things had dried out in the camp.

Saturday night was the Quilty with two rounds under lights,

Leigh McLartys’ bullocks were the challenge on the drafters’ night of nights.

First a Calcutta with horse and rider presented to the crowd,

Bids were fast and furious with alcohol making people loud.

Some of the judging decisions had us riders baffled,

Instead of a Calcutta we felt that we’d been raffled.

Round one was beefies, big and tough and hard to get a course,

The second round was Friesians these were a little softer for both man and horse.

Fernvale Prospector made the early running and the pace was pretty hot,

To guide him Roger Shepardson, who, when it was over, laughingly took the lot.

For ten years now I’ve been trying to win the Quilty, I’ve found the going tough,

At times I doubt my own abilities, start thinking, am I good enough.

Twenty O two for me was a case of de-ja-vu from the past,

I couldn’t pick a beast and damn near finished last.

Take nothing from the winner though, by gee she earned her place,

Racing round the course with skill and poise and grace.

Our first lady winner, Kym Edgley on Stanton Stud Bay Fay,

The mare looked like she was in foal; it must have been a belly full of hay.

She blew away the opposition, in the camp and on the course,

The judge David Wilson gave some big scores to this horse.

I reckon the spectators too were amazed at what they saw,

The rest of us competitors, could only sit and watch in awe.

John and Ann, Kyms’ mum and dad fairly glowed with pride,

For there was no doubt their little girl, had shown the rest how to ride.

Was 2003 my year, I could feel it in me bones, I reckon I was hot,

But coming round the second peg all my dreams were shot.

Abbeygale nearly fell but heart kept her on her feet,

She caught the steer again and a 29 second course to complete.

Two judges Troy Clarke and David Wilson, we took the aggregate score,

Abbeygale had 81&1/2, but Sheppo he had more.

But my little mare was lame; I’d have to scratch, no ifs or buts,

You’d reckon I’d walked under a ladder or kicked a black cat in the nuts.

I’ve been asked how that mare stayed on her feet, I tell ‘em it was my riding skill,

But hindsight tells me Mick and Cherry might have saved me from a spill.

Well Roger, I reckon Mick Quilty would say congratulations and well done,

Fernvale Prospector the first to double up, but now you’re a marked man old son.

A fellow they called the Mongrel rode the Quilty winner in 2004,

Cooks Rock the Wagon started proceedings with a twenty three camp score.

He finished the round with ninety two; he was leading from the front,

But there was a few of us on his hammer keeping us in the hunt.

Me I was back on Quango the governor Paul Kelly had him going well,

The old fella still remembered me that much I could tell.

Well the Governors training methods had the Wanker going fine,

And our first round score was a handy eighty-nine.

But if we wanted to catch McDowell we’d have to go for broke,

And going for a second round gate, well, our dreams went up in smoke.

So to Steve and the Rocket there’s no doubt you pair were the best,

All us other bloody would be’s if we could be’s were given a thorough test.

Ann Edgely said John needs to win the Quilty he’s running out of time,

The rest of us just smiled for we knew he was well past his prime.

Only a few years ago the Quilty had gone to John’s daughter Kym,

Maybe with determination on his part 2005 could well go to him.

Well the lightening bolts were flashing as he came out on the course,

But this would not deter him or his little grey horse.

Balaka Park Ser seemed to do it easy he just never missed a beat,

Come the second round the rest of us were starting to feel the heat.

But for a while it looked like things could go right down to the wire,

Then it became obvious to us all that the old boy would not tire.

John was a bantam rooster after he had withstood the test,

Because when the scores were added up he’d beaten all the rest.

So it seems it’s no disadvantage being the oldest rider on the track,

And 2006 will see John and Ser trying for Quilty’s back to back.

There were twenty one competitors, in the Quilty of 2006,

And every one of them riders knew a few campdraft tricks.

Some riders wore a black arm band, in memory of Graham Dean,

To ride one day in the Quilty, had been the gentle giants dream.

The Calcutta was held again this year; the bidding was fierce and hot,

With that bloody ding Cirracosta, trying to buy the lot.

The crowd knew no quarter would be given as each drafter gave his all,

For ‘tis only the winner, who has his name inscribed on the champions wall.

The judge once again was David Wilson; he was the man with the whip,

But we knew he’d score us well, as long as we had a dip.

When finally it was over, the crowd gave each placegetter a cheer,

With the loudest of the night going to the winner, Moray Monty and Trevor Beer.

The Quilty of 2007 would go to a very wily old fox,

A horse and rider combination right out of the box.

Now to qualify for the Quilty is considered no easy feat,

And to oversee proceedings Bruce Hollis was in the judge’s seat.

The first round was fierce as all the riders got going,

Some decent scores were given; the Friesian bullocks were really flowing.

But the second round was different the cattle a real challenge to the horse,

This time not too many would complete the entire course.

Henry Clifton had won the Quilty with Yarraween Jewel Spur in ‘95

And just missing out last year had really given Henry drive.

No one with any brains ever rules old Henry out,

This year belongs to Hayclif Sambo!  Was there ever any doubt?

Another chapter was written but an episode ended in 2008,

No more will trucks and floats stream through Avondale’s gate,

There’d been eight previous winners on the Avondale course,

This year would see the ninth Coolup Quilty winning horse.

The judge was Cody Law from Inverell, New South Wales,

And of his drafting exploits I’d heard quite a few tales.

The first round with Friesian’s gave most a pretty easy run,

But things would be different ere the second round Brahmans were done.

Big Drew riding Carrot was making sure things went down to the wire,

While Spoon cast his eye over the camp, hoping his mare Impulse would fire.

And fire she did getting a ninety and putting the yak through the gate,

Heaths old man Stewy, and Mick had long ago been mates.

So congratulations Spoon your connections to the Quilty’s and this draft are strong.

And with only one point in it Drew, I’m sure it’ll be your turn, before too long.

A new venue greeted the drafters for the Quilty of two thousand and nine,

And for the third year running, I had the ride on Balaka Shine.

The first round was run with Friesians and some runs were pretty hot,

Me and Michael Percy led the field, and 87 was what we got.

There were a few on 86; one was John Edgley on Balaka Ser,

Like the Snowy river pony he had courage and was no cur.

The Yandeeyarra Brahmans for the final seemed to have pace to burn,

And a horse needed to be fleet of foot to get these steers to turn.

Perc got another 87, but John and Ser got an 88,

The gutsy grey showed pace to complete the course and get the gate.

The Quilty was going right down to the wire with two on one seven four,

There would have to be a run off to decide the winning score.

They say you can’t beat age and experience and John would prove that true,

As the sun was going down he and Balaka Ser once again pulled through.

Now John is dual winner of the Quilty for he had won back in 2005,

And even though he is in his late seventies I think the dream is still alive.

The evening was fast approaching; the sun was low in the sky,

The Quilty Draft of twenty, ten with thirty five horses to give it a try.

Michael Wilson from the east to judge, the arena was watered down,

Hughie Scott was the commentator as the riders tried to get ‘em round.

Now this draft has always been a spectacle and was again this year,

With some previous winners competing, like John Edgley and Trevor Beer.

Then of course there was Henry Clifton, who never fails to be there about,

This year would be no different as he set about a camp draft rout.

Big Drew had set the pace with a first round of ninety one,

But he like everyone was aware that Henry’s never done.

A winner in ’95 and ’07 the veteran was still at the top of his game,

Hayclif Sambo would ensure the shield once again bore the Clifton name.

A three time winner now, oh yeah a champion there can be no doubt,

No matter which horse he’s riding you would be a fool to rule Henry out.

The twentieth running of the Quilty, would be one of the closest we had seen,

The judge was Mr. Allan Young from the New South Wales town of Aberdeen.

It was the 26^th November 2011, late evening and the sun was going down,

When the first of 39 contestants started putting the Friesian bullocks around,

Henry Clifton and Hayclif Sambo with a 90 had set a real read hot pace,

`Stop the press` the newsmen cried `you had better watch this space.

28 went through to the second round and here we saw a change of cattle,

The easy runs were over, now the spectators would witness a real tough battle.

But then the lead kept changing hands as smoke and gloom descended,

To win the twentieth Quilty buckle every effort would need to be expended.

Drew hit the lead with a 162, then it was old Bob with a hundred and sixty four,

Then Joe Pederick and Obsession posted a two round 166, the winning score.

Congratulations Joe, a most deserved winner of another Quilty run and won,

And after 20 verses perhaps I should call it quits and say this poem’s done.

This year saw a new competitor come on the Quilty scene,

As far as previous performances Eric Walmsley’s slate was clean.

I believe the judge was Jim Daley; he’d travelled from the east,

He was a previous winner and had once tamed the Quilty beast.

I’m told there was a tie Hurtle and Postscript had an even score,

So Eric and Frank Angel would have to do the course once more.

Social media tells me it was Hurtle, who won the twenty first running,

Most drafters seem to think that lately Eric’s form has been stunning.

Now I am unable to go into detail because you see I wasn’t there,

For just the previous Sunday, an accident, I was left in great despair.

I lost the horse that I hoped would one day win the Quilty prize,

So please excuse me if as I write this verse I’m a little misty in the eyes.

-to be continued.

© Corin Linch    1992 -2012

‘THE QUILTY ROLL of RENOWN’  

(Parron Place)

1992    Brown Chanway -      Gerald Kilpatrick

1993    Peringa Serenade - Jim Daley

1994    Moola Bulla Majestic - Dick Northcott

1995    Yarraween Jewel Spur         - Henry Clifton

1996    Peringa Elite - Ben Daley

1997    Dandilla Campass - Peter Daley

 (Cantabilling  Springs)

1998    Myona Rivoli - Freeman Armitage

1999    Celeste - Leigh McLarty

(Avondale Coolup)

2000    Kebaringup Klaim - Brock Shepardson

2001    Fernvale Prospector - Roger Shepardson

2002    Stanton Stud Bay Fay         - Kym Edgley

2003    Fernvale Prospector - Roger Shepardson

2004    Cooks Rock the Wagon       - Steve McDowell

2005    Balaka Park Ser - John Edgley

2006    Moray Monty   - Trevor Beer

2007    Hayclif Sambo - Henry Clifton

2008    Impulse - Heath Stewart

2009    Balaka Park Ser – John Edgley

2010    Hayclif Sambo – Henty Clifton

2011    Obsession – Joe Pedrick

2012    Hurtle - Eric Walmsley
2013    Dakota Skip Sekoya (Carrot) - Drew Gibbs