Wednesday, July 30, 2008



About the time of RONNIE AND ME AND THE BIG SHARKCAT, some friends of mine had “their” encounter with old WALLEYE.
Johnnie Seimar, and the Highland man from the local Betting Shop, was out off Brunswick Heads doing a spot of fishing. John’s boat was a Jet powered 16 / 17 foot boat, originally owned, if my memory serves correct by “Sonny” Coles.

I must describe our old mate Sonny before I progress; He was well known and respected in the Brunswick Valley was Sonny. He was a builder of note and a very keen fisherman; I met him and his family in the early days of arriving in Brunswick Heads.

Jenny, Claudette and ‘Stewie’ were his children; Jeannie was the Mum, the second best “Fowler Vacola” country women I have met. Sadly Sonny passed away a couple of years ago. He was honored by the construction of a picnic shelter down by the Boat Ramp. If you’re in town have a BBQ lunch at his water frontage new house, maybe throw a line in. Great bloke Sonny Coles, I still see Jeannie and the Kids from time to time, good people.

Well I don’t know if the man from the TAB had ventured too sea very much, and after this “encounter” may have not ventured again. Just to describe the boat a little: the motor was inboard; the pump was direct coupled to the motor. The nozzle and directional gear were out board. The nozzle was protected by a heavy gauge sheet aluminum guard.

The way that the story unfolds will be traumatic for the Jet Boat crew, although for some a certain amount of humor will be distinguished by your writer.

“We were just drifting, had the rods out, and waiting for a ‘bite”, as John describes. “And then this bloody great brown bastard with a head as wide as the boat swims up from the depths. The bastard swims around the boat; he comes up to the back of the boat and latches on to bloody guard covering the jet nozzle”.


Sunday, July 27, 2008



AND the reason that blogging sucks, AND YET!!
So I’m older than most, yet younger than some, I should live longer, maybe. Just an ordinary bloke really, no great pretensions, no wealth, relative health, UPPER LOWER CLASS, and look up to people who are down.
My colour, (Aussie), my color, (spell checker) will vary with the amount of sun I ingest. Your colour I respect. I have learnt that the color wont rub of on to me, only what’s underneath. Would dearly love to and greet you and meet you.
That’s my crappy slant on life.


Many people I have met, many blokes and girls who I respect.
This was not supposed to be a poem, but now I’m oh so winsome.
Got a ‘bee in me bonnet’, somewhat maudlin’, its face to face your author’s seekin’.
What about the folks you’re met, what about the folks you want too.

Shake their hand, a peck on the cheek, a little bit of banter, that’s what I allude to.
You seem not to get this on the World Wide Web, the personal touch I means.
I want to meet and greet, exchange a thought. Can’t seem to get this on the web it seems.
And yet if you stumble upon, or johnfarlsbrunz, my enigma will appear to falter.

You will meet some decent folk, you just read ‘twixt the lines, but is the name really Walter.
I wrote a poem, the ROCKY BOARDWALK SOUTH, go on, GOOGLE it now.
You see where I’m coming from, why the frown upon my brow.
I have written many words to many cyber people, people who I have never met.

AND that’s the reason why Bloggin’ sucks a bit, AND YET.

© john d Farley 2008,, I can’t live without BLOGGIN’

Monday, July 21, 2008



Tale tales and true. Many stories have been recounted about “OLD WALL EYE”, he lived in real memory, and he was not a figment of too much ‘rum and coffee’. Our ‘friend’ lives out from Brunswick Heads, he has one good eye.

This “Bushy”, read ‘watery’ yarn comes from a personal experience. This must make me 121 years old. Also read; he for she, she for he?

OLD WALL EYE, he was big and brown, he had a huge set of teeth and he terrified us. A dog? A bull? no a bloody great shark that’s what old wall eye was. He lived near Brunswick Heads N.S.W.; He lived in deep water and was notorious amongst the trawler men and the boaties. He wrecked so many prawn nets and ‘took’ so many fish, always distinguished by his one white eye, can’t remember which was the good eye, it may have been his starboard one.

He was a legend, he was not a figment of some bodies imagination. Ask any fisherman from up here and they will relate a story of this huge BRONZE WHALER. My mate John and myself can tell you first hand of our encounter with the toothy creature from the deep.

John owned a fiberglass bond wood boat, it was distinguished by the name ‘GOTCHA’. When the Bar Mouth was flat as a ‘night carters hat’, we would down tools and head out for few hours of fishing. Mostly we fish the local reef and if conditions allowed head for the 38’s. So here we are; anchored and down goes the 70lb lines with ‘pillies’ for bait, got some bites and landed some nice Schnapper, John suggests he has caught Australia, you fisher persons will relate to hooking the bottom.

The only option is to keep hauling in until the hook lets go or the line breaks. For some time John hauls away but still the weight remains on the line. We both know something big has been hooked up, sharks mostly take a run and break you off, this was to be an exception. SO, what was this dead weight, it was not long before the question was answered.

Out of the murky deep an apparition of huge proportions becomes very evident, John has hauled to the surface “The Legend”, the, “walled eyed monster”. Two blokes with normally complacent personalities are incredulous at the size of this fish, GOTCHA is 18 feet long, the monster is nearly as long, it quietly surveys us, we survey it and a stand off is happening. The rest of the narrative will be a blur; a knife is produced, the line is cut, the motor started, the anchor is retrieved and we get to buggery out of there.

WE have had our encounter with ‘OLD WALL EYE’ AND SURVIVED!
This chronicle is mentioned else where on the WWW, more ‘at length’ narratives? (, described as JOHN D. FARLEY, SUPERBLOG.

He was big and mean he was brown, teeth resplendent white, some will imagine an animal that barks.
Well I can tell that, he was all that but not the Junkyard Dog, he’s marine, and from the 38’s this bugger harks and rules the ocean oh supreme.

Brunswick Heads, the “Rocky Boardwalk South” will be where this recount emanates.
It’s about me mate Johnnie Mckeag and me, oh and ‘GOTCHA’, you guys, the story will desalinates?
John and me check the bar this day, it’s like a Night Carters Hat, and that’s flat.
So down go’s tools, paint brushes and stuff, the 38’s is where were at.
The faithful ‘GOTCHA’, she’s bond wood, 18 foot, fiberglass clad and pride of all the fleet.

She’s pullin’ at the bridle as the dreaded break walls we meet and breach.
With rods and lines and smelly bait, me mate and our trusty steed.
Head E NOR EAST to the ‘horror zone’, just to have a good day out, brings home to the folks a wholesome feed, yeah fish for tea, grilled for me, and, it must be your next shout.

30 minutes and we are there dropping down the anchor to our fishing spot of choice.
The mighty ocean, she’s quite, she’s tranquil and a wonderful place to be ‘hooked up’.
Bait up, drop down, get set, get bites land some fish, now get ready for a story that johnfarls hasn’t cooked up.
Mckeag sais “ hey farls I think I’ve the bottom, bugger, have to break of the line”.

So he hauls and hauls on the 70 pound fishing twine, it comes up ever so slow, and then it dawns, something big is coming up from way way down the mine.
The line, she won’t break, 15 minutes pass and then some more I feel sure.
What is this thing me mates hooked up, “keep pullin’ mate”, got to see this thing, curiosity found, that will be the cure.

“Remora, sucker fish”, we both exclaims in time, up they come, the penny drops lets cut of the bloody line.
But now the reason for our wonder majestically appears, brown and huge it enters our line of sight.

It surfaces on the starboard side then slowly moves to port, it’s the legend
Just a bronze whaler, 16 foot long, it has a head like a Mini-Minor, bloody hell lets get out here, lets take flight.

Frantic action, panic, traumatic reaction, over reaction, crap has hit the fan, cut the line, start the motor, get up the anchor, don’t wait for this buggers might.
All these actions take place in a blur, back to the depths this apparition descends.
WE have had our encounter with OLD WALL EYE, we lived, but this not where the story ends.

WE clean the boat from you know what, and what do you think we find?
Bloody ‘dry rot’, that’s wot, see the dilemma? Old WALL EYE almost had our be-hind.
© john d Farley 2008,

Friday, July 18, 2008


Night time sometimes there is a wonderful ‘light show’, imagine being miles from shore, looking up at the heavens and seeing the thin streams’ of light, a meteor, a satellite? An alien spacecraft? Fishermen have seen these spectacles for eons. But enough of the romance lets catch some fish.
But hang on!! I haven’t’ described the spectacle of the “GLORIOUS MOON”. Oh my God what a wonderful spectacle, possibly the most beautiful vision of nature you will ever see. Slowly out of the darkness rises our nearest terrestrial neighbor, this huge orb of light, you can feel the unleashing of all life coming to greet you. You can sense the arising power of creation.
You would have to be brain dead not to love life when beholden this spectacle, even the unfortunate blind can sense its presence. All creation is bound to its existence. OH, and sorry SUN.
HEY SUN, you’re the Father, but without doubt our Moon is our Mother, she encourages life, she fosters all things living, she nurtures and gives being to all living things. Mother Moon my religion. The glorious Moon is the placenta of life, you are the Egg that is fertilized by God, I can feel life, and everything around us on the 38’s is being born.
Bugger me I have digressed.
A little excerpt from (

Wednesday, July 9, 2008


Would you like some stories from a wonderfull bloke, some wonderfull poems, some wonderfull photos, your there, (I wish).

(, (, (

All's well, just promoting myself, might take your mind off crappy stuff, regards john f.

Wednesday, July 2, 2008


Your up there old son, have a drink? My shout, see you at the Brunz Pub, look for a bloke on an old black bike.
Bit of a "cringe" early, who cares, you have more rockers than shockers.


Please forgive any indications of glibness, however, you will need to read; FROM THE CITY TO THE BUSH, PARTS ONE TWO AND THREE to get the g...