Of Tragedy and Valor
Christopher Ian Tapscott

Chris Tapscott is a retired Principal of Port Elliot Primary School and a previous teacher at Victor Harbor Primary. He is a Life Governor of the Port Elliot Surf Lifesaving Club. 

Chris married Winifred Leah (lee) Shannon, the daughter of John Lindsay Shannon and  (grand daughter of Jane Caroline  Rumbelow). Leah passed away in 2022 after a battle with cancer.

Trouble at Encounter Bay

On a stormy day at Yilki on 16th May 1975, 21 year old fiancée Chris was involved in the attempted rescue of Geoffrey Rumbelow at Encounter Bay. Geoff's Clausen Craft 17-foot clinker boat was riding hard at her anchor and broke free. Dragging its unattached chain, the boat began to drift towards Wright Island, taking a terrific battering. 

Geoff Rumbelow had arrived from work and without consideration, he jumped into a dinghy and made for the boat. When about 100 metres from shore three large waves struck the dinghy, the third of which pitched him out of the boat and into the sea. Geoff clung to the dinghy for about five minutes before being forced to let go.

Ken Proctor, a holidaying school teacher, then rowed his nine-foot dinghy out to Geoff, grabbing his arm with one hand and tried to paddle with the other but could not pull him aboard. Ken struggled to hold Geoff and row at the same time for about five minutes.

Malen Rumbelow 4th, proprietor of the Rumbelows fish shop at Yilki called Lin Shannon with an urgent message was that someone was in difficulty in the surf out from the shop and help was needed. 

At that time, Chris and his fiancee Leah Shannon were with his father in-law Lindsay  Shannon, preparing to host their wedding reception the next day.

Both Lin and Chris jumped in the car and sped to the beach. Down at the beachfront Lin and Geoff's cousin Graham Rumbelow prepared to launch another dinghy. Chris, having had considerable experience in surf, persuaded Lin to remain on shore. 

By the time Chris and Graham Rumbelow reached Proctor's dinghy Geoff Rumbelow was blue and unconscious. Chris grabbed the drowning man and attempted to haul him as far as he could over the stern so that mouth to mouth resuscitation could be attempted. Chris supported Geoff from the water whilst attempting to provide mouth to mouth resuscitation as they rowed ashore with waves continually breaking over the dinghy. Chris remembers the chill of the water took away his breath and how he found swimming a tough contract in his flared corduroy jeans.

After moving some distance towards the shore, a big wave hit the dinghy, and Geoff was swept off the stern. Chris jumped in to secure him once more, catching hold of the drowned man. He fought his way back to the dinghy to grasp the stern with one arm whilst he held the man with the other. 

When they finally neared shore bystanders swam out to assist and they lifted Geoff Rumbelow from the sea and carried him to the seaweed spattered sea wall. St John personnel administered oxygen when Geoff was brought ashore but he did not respond. 

Amazingly, Chris and Leah continued with the wedding and reception, and departed after the reception for Bendigo.

Mr. Rumbelow, who is survived by his widow, three sons and two daughters, served with the 2nd 48th Battalion during World War 11. He was a popular member of the Victor Harbor Rotary and R.S.L. clubs and the cortege to the Victor Harbor cemetery on Monday was the largest seen for many years.

Prior to the funeral, a service was held in the Yilki Congregational Church which was packed to overflowing with scores of mourners outside.

In 1977, Chris Tapscott, Kenneth Proctor, and Graham Rumbelow were awarded Royal Humane Society bronze medals for bravery. The three were among nine men to receive the medals from the Lieutenant-Governor (Mr. W.R. Cricker) at a ceremony at Government House.

Medals for bravery

Victor Harbour Times (SA : 1932 - 1986) 

 Wed 1 Jun 1977 

Three men involved in a sea rescue at Yilki, Encounter Bay, in May 1975, last Friday received Royal Humane Society bronze medals for bravery. The three were among nine men to receive the medals from the Lieutenant-Governor (Mr. W.R. Cricker) at a ceremony at Government House.

The men involved in the Encounter Bay rescue were;

• Mr. Kenneth Proctor, 51, of Vale Park; 

• Mr. Graham Rumbelow. 49 of Victor Harbor; 

• Mr. Christopher Tapscott, 23, of Port Elliot.

They went to the aid of Mr. Geoffrey Malin Rumbelow whose boat had broken from its moorings. They managed to get him ashore but he did not respond to treatment.

Mr. Graham Rumbelow said that many years ago his grandfather had been involved in successfully rescuing a man in the same area.

Letter from George Rumbelow, 2015

Dear Chris,

I am hoping you are the Chris Tapscott that was my teacher in 1983 (Year 6 for me) at Victor Harbor Primary School).

My real name is Darren Rumbelow and I am the grandson of Geoff Rumbelow. I only attended Victor for the last term of that year as my Mum, Lynn had moved to a sheep station in the north of SA and I was staying with my Nanna (Shirley) at Victor. 

I moved up north with Mum in Year 7. I told my mum of this cool teacher, Mr T, who I thought was a great guy. It was then that she told me that you had tried to rescue my Grandpa when he drowned off Yilki.

I just wanted to let you know that I have thought of that often. My Grandpa, although I was only 3 at the time of his death, was like my Dad.

Today, 16 May is the 40th anniversary of his death. Growing up I heard stories of Grandpas heroics in WWII as a Rat of Tobruk. I also heard stories of 3 heroes who braved terrible weather at Yilki trying to save my Grandpa. All I ever wanted to do as a kid was grow to be a hero like my Grandpa and those 3 men at Yilki in 1973. It formed me into who I am today.

I was 17 when I joined the Army and I served for 10 years. After that I moved to Police where I have been for the past 14 years. I have always tried to pay it forward as far as facing my fears and helping others. In the back of my mind has always been the basic concept that if you are in a position to do something to help someone else then you do it. You just do it. 

No questions asked. (it drives my wife mad sometimes).

I never had the opportunity to put that into practice in the Army but on various occasions during that period there were times when I chased and apprehended an offender who had escaped Police custody and other "stupid" things I did based on my belief that courage is not the absence of fear, but rather the actions one does under fear.

As a Police officer I have had to perform tasks that some might also label as heroic. I have received various commendations and the like over the years, including during the 2011 Qld Floods when I rescued a family from their flooded house and most recently when I came across a head on crash off duty and retrieved two injured children from their smoking car.

I don't think of these things as heroic and I certainly don't do them for validation or award. It is just who I am and it is only recently under self reflection that I have become aware of this. But I am proud to say that I have saved lives, and I have helped others whenever I can.

I tell you this because it was growing up with the knowledge of what you and two other men did for my Grandpa, 40 years ago today, that helped form me into the man I am today and has given me the character to perform my job the way I do. For every thank you card I have received or certificate or commendation I have been awarded, I can trace that back to a shitty day in Yilki in 1975.

Thank you for trying so hard to save my Grandpa. Even though the stars weren't aligned that day, or God had a different plan, or you were just shit out of luck (depending on your outlook on life) your actions that day had a flow on affect and I have thought of your bravery that day many times and have used it to be a better human.

I hope this finds you well and in the event that I have the wrong person....ooops! Disregard

Cheers,

Darren RUMBELOW

Message from Chris Tapscot, 2025

Hi Darren, 

It’s Chris Tapscott here, and I am hoping that this is still your phone number! 

It’s coming up to the 50th anniversary of the loss of your grandpa Geoff, this Friday, and I have just been speaking with Don Rumbelow, son of Graham, about having a quiet coffee on Friday morning at the Yilki store to commemorate that fateful day. Lesley will be there too. He tells me that Malcolm Rumbelow has just headed north again and won’t be here. 

Just letting you know that we’ll be thinking of you, as well as the events of that day. 

If you don’t mind, I’d also like to share the letter that you wrote to me on fb ten years ago. I’m wondering too whether you could please let your Mum know that we are commemorating the day. 

I hope that this finds you well.

Kind regards,

Chris

Message from Chris Tapscot, 2025

Hi Matt, this Friday is the 50th anniversary of the loss of Geoff, so I had the thought of having a quiet coffee at the Yilki Store to commemorate. 

Ten years ago Darren (now George) made contact with me via Facebook. My wife Leah (nee Shannon, whose grandmother was a Rumbelow) and I happened to be in Florence, Italy, at the time, and the next day was our 40th wedding anniversary. (We lost Leah in 2022 after a battle with melanoma). I opened Facebook and found the attached letter from Darren.

So, in thinking about Friday I thought the George and his Mum would like to know that I am thinking of him as well as the events of that day. 

Don & Lesley Rumbelow, and possibly others, will be there Friday. 

Cheers, 

Chris 

Victor teacher for research

• Victor Harbour Times (SA : 1932 - 1986) 

•  Wed 26 Sep 1984 

Acting deputy principal at Victor Harbor Primary School Chris Tapscott will be part of a research project for the current term involving the eight tribal aboriginal schools in South Australia.

Mr lapscou iormeny caugnt at rTegon Aboriginal School and at Amata school, and has maintained ties with Fregon through the cultural exchange involving the Fregon and Victor Harbor Primary schools. The project is part of the Participation and Equity Program, a Commonwealth Schools Commission initiative, part of a national program to answer questions such as why children are not getting the most out of secondary education and why children leave school early. 

Principals of the eight tribal aboriginal schools put forward a proposal for funding involving research by two officers. The proposal was successful. The two research officers will be looking at the question of why children are not getting the maximum benefit from secondary education as regards tribal aborigines who attend the eight tribal schools in SA. A request had been made for Mr Tapscott to be released from Victor Harbor Primary School for the current term to undertake the research. His partner in the project will be Mr Trevor Adamson, a traditional Pitjantjatjara man who is also a teacher at Fregon. 

Mr Tapscott, who speaks Pitjantjatjara, will be based at Fregon and travel extensively through the traditional areas and areas providing secondary education service to the tribal settlements. Mr Tapscott will be released from the project for the Fregon-Victor Harbor Primary exchange later this year. It is hoped the recommendations in the report from research late in 1984 will be able to be acted upon in the 1985 academic year. Mr Tapscott and Mr Adamson will have a support team made up of the tribal schools curriculum committee.

Mr Chris Tapscott and son Nicky look over a map showing the position of the Fregon area.

The Victor Harbor Primary School Pitjantjatjara work book

In 1982 Chris published a workbook during his time with the Victor Harbor Primary School.

Title: The Victor Harbor Primary School Pitjantjatjara work book

Author: Tapscott, Chris

ISBN: 0724371648

Subject:

• Australian Aboriginal languages: Pitjantjatjara language. For schools

• Pitjantjatjara language

VICTOR HARBOR ORAL HISTORY PROJECT, ‘Beside the Seaside’ 

Interview with Winifred (Leah) Tapscott on 17th November 2015 

Interviewer: Sue West 

Welcome Leah and thank you for agreeing to be part of this project. So we’ll start, Leah, by asking when you were born? 

LT: I was born in 1953. 

And whereabouts? 

LT: At Ceduna. 

What took your family to Ceduna? 

LT: After the Second World War - my father (Lin Shannon) served in the Middle East and in New Guinea in the  2nd Sixth Battalion -  and I think he just wanted to get away from the madding crowd of War.  Before the War he worked for the Harbours Board so I think when he was in New Guinea, I’ve  got a photograph of him mending a net while they were waiting to be demobilised. It’s a fabulous photo because he’s got this net and cameras were  actually banned in the War but somebody had one but he’s got this net over him with blokes  standing around him all waiting for him to finish mending the net so they could cast it off I  suppose. 

He (Lin) was a born fisherman, his father was a fisherman, professional fisherman, and he was too.  My mother was Winifred Mollie Shannon, nee Trebilcock. She came from Montacute, from the  Adelaide Hills and my father was John Lindsay Shannon born in Encounter Bay in a house  called Lallawa. 

I’ve got a long family history of this area. My grandmother was Jane Caroline Shannon nee  Rumbelow and my grandfather was Joshua Shannon. 

You went to Victor Harbor High? 

LT: Went to Victor Harbor High School. 

And there you met your husband to be.

LT: I did. Yes, yes. He (Chris Tapscott) was around; we were in the same Year Level together and his cousin,  Suzanne was a friend of mine. Victor Harbor wasn’t a very big place then either because I went  to Primary School with his cousins. Chris and I probably first started, not dating, you didn’t date  in those days, you just went out together. We first started going out together, I guess it was  established early in our lives that we both loved travel because whenever there was a trip  organised by any of the teachers that wanted to take us, I would go and so would Chris. We first  really got together at Ayres Rock, which is interesting isn’t it? 

That’s a long way from Victor Harbor. 

LT: It’s a long way from Victor Harbor and to think that we ended up there working. That was very interesting too. That was in Year 11 and the next year, in Year 12 we went to Tasmania.  That was in 1970 and from ’71 Chris went to Uni, Flinders Uni doing a Science degree, and I  went to the Royal Adelaide Hospital working. 

Then, after the training years at Royal Adelaide Hospital--- 

That was three years training? 

LT: ---three years training yep and then twelve months training at the Queen Elizabeth Hospital  to do my mid (midwifery) and Chris was doing his, when he finished his degree he then had to  do a Diploma of Teaching because he was bonded by the Education Department so he had to  work three years teaching before he could think about doing anything else. He was just a born  teacher. He wasn’t not going to do that or contemplate doing anything else. 

And you were a born nurse, Leah? 

LT: I think so. My mother was a nurse so I was a nurse as well. Chris had had enough of  science after four years doing a degree so when he signed up for the Diploma of Teaching he  chose subjects completely away from Science as he could find. One of the subjects was  Problems in Aboriginal Education. He was so enthralled with this subject, the lecturer must have  been really interesting, that after the first class he went up to him and said, “Is there anyway that  I can get a job working up with these people, up on The Lands.” It was called the North West  Aboriginal Reserve then and not the Lands. 

He said, “Yes, well they’re desperate.” 

Chris thought he couldn’t because we weren’t actually married then but he said, ”Do you think  my wife, she’s a nurse, do you think my wife could get a job up there?” 

“Oh, what does she do?” 

“Oh she’s a nurse.” 

“Oh they’d be desperate, what a wonderful combination, teacher and nurse.” 

Chris went around to the Education Department and applied to do his prac teaching in 1975 and  that was for a month. We got married on 17th May 1975. We went up to Amata as newlyweds  for a month and I was observing at the Clinic because Chris, after he had spoken to the  Education Department he went around to the Health, Public Health Department it was called then, to see if he could get a job for me.

That was easy, I had two choices, Indulkana or Amata; they chose Amata because there were  positions in Amata in teaching and in nursing and that’s how come we got to go to Amata. It was  a very remote place; settled in the Musgrave Ranges. 

To put us in the picture, that’s about as far north from Victor Harbor as you could  possibly go in remain in South Australia. 

LT: Pretty well, pretty well. It’s only four, I’m not sure if it’s miles or kilometres from the Northern Territory border. 

That close? Right. 

LT: Very close. 

Would it take you fourteen hours or so to drive up there? 

LT: Yeah, yeah. 

All dirt roads. 

LT: What a nightmare, yeah, what a nightmare. It was all dirt roads and we didn’t have air conditioning in our car and so you had to have the windows down so you arrived at your  destination all dusty and exhausted really, yes. 

What was the accommodation like? 

LT: We called it a doggo, it was fairly basic accommodation, just a single ATCO building with a kerosene fridge, that was initially. 

No electricity or did you have diesel generators? 

LT: There was a generator, a town generator but that used to go off, I’m not sure if it was ten  o’clock or eleven o’clock at night. Someone had to go and switch the generator off then start it  up in the morning. It was very remote. 

We used to get, the mail-plane came in once a week so that was a highlight. The supply truck  used to come once every ten days; Northern Transport. The Clinic, initially when I first got there,  there were two nurses there and I was a third but I wasn’t actually nursing I was only there to  observe. That was in 1975 when Chris was still doing his teacher Diploma of Teaching. 

I went back to Amata as a reliever at the end of, about November 1975 so I had another six  weeks up there then. That was a bit of a test for me because it was very hot and I was there by  myself and the nurses, the two nurses that were there very rarely had time off. At one stage  they said, “Do you reckon you could manage here in the Clinic by yourself while we have a  couple of days off to go into Alice Springs?” 

I said, “OK, but I’m a bit nervous about that.” 

As it turned out it was a bit traumatic because there was, the North West Aboriginal Reserve  was a dry community. Alcohol wasn’t allowed but it used to come in, it used to be brought in.  There was a drunken fight and I think somebody had got run over or hit by a car and they were  brought to the Clinic and I was there by myself because the two other nurses were in Alice.

I was in the middle of assessing him and then this drunken fellow was coming in and going out  and coming in and going out and I couldn’t work properly with that going on so I locked the door.  He then proceeded to smash the glass and let himself in and he then put a knife to my throat  and said, I don’t know what he said because he was speaking Pitjantjatjara and I didn’t have  any Pitjatjanjara language but it frightened the living daylights out of me and I ran. 

I meant to go back to the office where I knew there were staff from DCW but I actually ended up  going the wrong way. There was this beautiful woman called Nganyintja who came to my  rescue. She was a senior woman in the Community and had a lot of common sense and a lot of  power and she just ticked this bloke off. She said, “Go away!” 

Then she protected me and took me home and I’ve never forgotten Manaja, she was a wonderful woman. One of the first women, Ernabella was a mission then, she was one of the  first women to have her baby in the hospital. 

I think it’s the late manager now, I don’t think she’s with us anymore. But she was a wonderful  woman and highly respected because later on when we went back to Amata in the 1990s she  came in to the Clinic one day with her handbag. I served her, and asked her to show me her  tablets. She opened up her handbag, she undid the zip and pulled out her teeth and said, “Oh  these are for meetings!” (laughter) 

They must have been uncomfortable to wear at any other time. So you spent two years at  Amata? 

LT: Two years at Amata, yes. 

And two at Fregon? 

LT: Then two years at Fregon as a solo practitioner and I thought I would read you this story  because this happened to me in 1979 when I was working at Fregon.  

“We had no telephones in the 1970s but the Fregon Clinic had a Traeger two-way radio and on  a particular day in the morning a nurse stationed at Ernabella put over a desperate plea for  help. There’d been a family tragedy and she had to leave and return to her home in Sydney.  Ernabella being a much bigger Community than Fregon, I offered to spend the day at the  Ernabella Clinic. We had a good Toyota LandCruiser and off I went to Ernabella. Little did I  know what I was in store for. 

The Clinics weren’t particularly quiet at that time because many of the people were involved in  the big ceremonies at that time of the year. Usually in summer they have ceremonies and this was a very big collection of people, all the way from Warburton in Western Australia, some 500  ks away. It was a huge gathering and I’d only just arrived at the Ernabella Clinic when a radio  message came over from Area Medical in Alice Springs to say they had received a message  from the bush near us that someone was very sick with stomach ache, tjuri tjara they called it.  That’s sort of like a vague term and that can be anything from gastro to--- 

---I’m having a baby? 

LT: Yeah, I’m having a baby, that sort of thing, yeah, yeah. They would never say that because  it was a man, and men don’t ever talk about. 

Women’s business?

LT: No that’s right. The message was very difficult to understand because they would not be very specific about who was sick and exactly what was wrong and what exactly the problem  was and where they were. I was just asked to go and investigate. Tjuri tjara could mean  anything from diarrhoea to toothache pains as well. I loaded up the Toyota, prepared for  everything, I wasn’t going to venture out into the bush alone so I asked one of the Health  Workers to come with me but because it was business they wouldn’t come. So there wasn’t one  Pitjantjatjara person that would come with me so I asked the mechanic. Who else would you  ask? (laughter) 

When you talk about business, that was male business? 

LT: Men’s business, yeah, but the women were involved as well because it was obviously a  very ceremonial time because of these WA people that were gathering as well, so it was very  important. I’m not sure how they worked that out but it was. The mechanic said, “Well, where’re  we going exactly?” 

I said, “I don’t know but I sort of knew the general direction.” We headed off and drove towards a popular rock called Alliwanyuwanyu and drove probably about thirty or forty minutes down the  road but no sign of people anywhere. We did see a camp that had obviously been, the night  before. We did a u-turn and headed in the other direction but soon we came upon one of the Pitjantjanjara men decorated with body paint, special headgear that I’d never seen before so  that frightened me because I knew that being a woman you’re not supposed to see secret men’s business. 

He was frantic and he said as he waved us on, “Don’t stop, don’t stop.” He just waved us on. I  felt very self-conscious because I was female and these ceremonies were secret men’s  business. Fortunately, soon afterwards we came across a group of women, most of whom I  knew so we stopped. It was clear that we should sit with our backs to the approaching men, and  whatever you do don’t look. Don’t look, you mustn’t look. 

The lovely lady that I sat with was a lady that I knew, her name was Nganyintja so she was  sitting on a blanket, because I knew her I sat next to her so I felt protected by her. I had a fairly  good grasp of the language by this stage, this being my fourth year up on the Lands. It was  clear what I had to do, after about five minutes all the women got up and moved to another spot  again, all facing a particular direction, and then I could hear the men chanting and dancing and  rustling of leaves, Kukika my old friend from Amata made sure I did the right thing. Nyakuntja wiya. “Don’t look, don’t look,” she said, “you mustn’t look.” 

Once the men had stopped dancing and singing, we were then allowed to get up and look. It  was not until then that we could ask about the sick person. They gave us specific directions but  were very vague as to exactly what was wrong. It was at this point that I thought that it must be  a lady in labour. Fortunately, I’d put the humidicrib in the back of the car, just in case, not that I’d  known what to expect. To this point I’d thought there must be a lady in labour and my mind was  frantic with the thought of what I might find. 

We headed off again, the mechanic and I and about thirty minutes down the track we came to a  vehicle and a man with a child with him. We stopped and asked him where was the sick  person? He pointed into the bush towards two women. I approached the women in my car. 

They were just sitting quietly and then I noticed a beautiful new-born baby boy. Just lying on the  blanket near his mother, perfect in every way except that the cord was still attached. The  women said to me in perfect English because they were from Warburton, their language was  banned by the missionaries years ago so that’s why they spoke perfect English. “The thing is  still inside.” I then delivered a completely detached placenta, cut the cord from the baby and popped everyone in the car and off we went back to Fregon with our bundle of joy. Not sick after  all so that was good! 

That was a very memorable day, it really was. It was fantastic with a happy ending and the  women would always deliver in the squatting position and so the baby had a dirty head. She  had what they called “malpas”, friends, so two other women with her to look after her, one of  them probably would have been the sort of midwife of the group, to help her deliver the baby.  That was fortunate that everything was good.” 

So in 1979 you moved back to Encounter Bay. 

LT: Back to Encounter Bay. We had built our house because there’s nowhere to spend your  money up on the North West Aboriginal Reserve so we had saved enough money to build our  house. I think we borrowed $15,000 or something and Chris’ Dad was the building overseer and  the plumber so we were very, very lucky people because he did a fantastic job so we moved  into a brand new home which we are now in right now. 

Which we are sitting in right now. 

LT: Yes, so at the end of 1979 we moved into here and I was six months pregnant with Nick.
He was born in April 19? 

LT: ’84. No! That was Phoebe. 

In 1980? 

LT: In 1980. 

Born in 1980. 

LT: Yes, 24th April the day before Anzac Day; in the South Coast District Hospital, Cynthia Rymill wing. I was probably a stay-at-home Mum for six months and then the yearning to get out  there and work was too strong so I joined the RDNS and did some relieving weekend work with  Jenny Vincent and Aileen Gale and Marg White. That satisfied me a bit and then managed to  lose a baby in 1983 and then Phoebe was born in 1984 but I took up Diabetes Education on a  very part-time basis. 

Cynthia Rymill was a very strong advocate for diabetes education. 

So we’re speaking about Cynthia Rymill the person now and not Cynthia Rymill the midwifery Ward at the local hospital? 

LT: No, no. 

The real Cynthia Rymill. 

LT: The real Cynthia Rymill, yes. Obviously the wing was named after her because she was a  member of the Board and a very dedicated and strong member of the Board. She would have  advocated to the Health Commission to get me some hours as a Diabetes Educator. That’s how the Diabetes Education started in this area. It was only half a day a week mind you but still, big things come from little things don’t they? 

Dr Wayne Crawford was successful in gaining a grant?

LT: Yeah the Health Commission were putting out grants for Diabetes Education so he applied with the encouragement of Peter Carpenter. 

He was the CEO? 

LT: He was the CEO of the Hospital, yes. So Wayne applied and was given a grant, so I got a few hours of diabetes Education and I worked at the Victor Medical Centre as a diabetes  educator; Goolwa Medical Centre did the same thing so I got some hours at Goolwa Medical  Centre too working as a diabetes educator. In the meantime because that was only a few hours  a week, in the meantime I worked at the Victor Medical Centre as a Practice Nurse. I think I had  three and a half days work altogether between the two jobs, three jobs.  

The town by then was starting to grow presumably? 

LT: Yes, yep. 

More population and buildings? 

LT: It wasn’t the City of Victor Harbor then, though. 

Still the District Council of Victor Harbor? 

LT: Yes, yes, yes. 

Yes, it would have still been quite a popular holiday destination at that point? 

LT: Victor Harbor has always been the playground of Adelaide. Even in the early days in the 1800s, Victor Harbor was for some reason popular. Well, people used to come to the seaside.  The crayfish were plentiful; I think Dad used to sell crayfish for six pence a dozen or something.  They were almost like rubbish food. 

Now we can’t afford to eat them! 

LT: No, no. no. Where was I up to? 

So you went back up north again? 

LT: Yep in the mid-1990s, Chris won the position as Deputy Principal at Ernabella, so we took  Phoebe with us, our daughter and put Nick into a boarding school in Adelaide. We had 1995 in  Ernabella and I worked as a School Services Officer with the PYEC, the Pitjantjatjara  Yankunytjatjara Education Council. That was their office so anybody who went there and didn’t  have a job was offered a job there. They had a turn-over of staff, not because it was bad but  because the people come and go a lot up on the Lands. 

Then Chris was offered a position at Amata? 

LT: He applied to Amata for the position of Principal and in order to convince me that it would  be a good thing he said, “There’s a mechanic there, there’s a doctor there and there’s a  policeman there!” 

So guess what, by the time we got there the doctor had gone, the policeman had gone on sick  leave and the mechanic had left. There goes that incentive but by then the health was managed  by a corporation called Nganampa Health. It was much better than the Public Health 

Department in the 1970s that weren’t at all supportive; they just dumped you there and didn’t  give you much support at all. Nganampa Health were very good; you would get six weeks  annual leave a year. The conditions were still pretty tough; you still had to manage any health  issue that came up, twenty-four hours a day seven days a week. By this time the doctor had left  Amata but there were two other nurses there so they didn’t ever, I spent two years at Fregon as  a solo practitioner but they don’t do that any more; they always have at least two if not more. 

You used to have to share the on-call, one weekend in three, or you’d go for ten days really  because you’d be on call during the week, then all weekend and then someone else would take  over. If somebody was away then you had to pick up where they left off. Some pretty harrowing  times at times there; mending up drunken fingers and stab wounds and traumas to the head. I  won’t go into that nasty story. 

I loved the, the Pitjantjatjara people are absolutely beautiful people, they really are. I used to  take a lot of pleasure in going and getting this old lady that I had to give her TB medication to  and whenever I had a spare minute I would go and get her and put her in the bath. She just  loved it, she just loved it. I’d scrub her back. In 1997 we had a new Clinic built so I had to make  sure they put in a bath with rails because the old bath in the old Clinic didn’t have any rails and  it took me ages to get her out of the bath one day. 

She couldn’t speak English and I couldn’t speak enough Pitjantjatjara to instruct her on how to  get out. I had to get the Health Workers to come in. There was this lovely lady called Mayana;  she was a Health Worker, a lovely lady, Nganyintja eldest daughter. I said, “Mayana come and  help me get thingamajig out of the bath, Pampa; I can’t get her out of the bath!” 

We finally got there so that was lovely. I used to have a supply of second-hand clothes; the  Anglican church used to save them for me down here. Had to be cotton stuff, had to be dresses.  They weren’t into wearing slacks, so cotton dresses. One particular time I gave Pampa a bath  and put her in this, it was quite a nice dress actually. The next day I saw one of the young girls  wearing it because she obviously liked it too. 

I used to cook occasionally if I had a spare minute. I would cook up a big stew with beef bones  and pearl barley and vegetables and just cook it all up. It didn’t really matter what it tasted like  and my colleagues used to complain about the smell but the Anangu just loved it. They just  loved it, it was just like a stew. I’d make it up mainly for the children because malnourishment  was quite common. Those Community days. I guess I’ve always been Community-orientated. 

In 1997 you left the desert again to return back to Encounter Bay? 

LT: Yes I did. At the end of 1997 we came back to Encounter Bay to our house that we’d built in  1979. By the sea; I always have to be by the sea, it’s in my blood I think. It was in my Father’s  blood so I think it’s in mine as well. Right up until the end of 2014 I’ve been working in the  community up here; down here. 

Coming back at the end of ’97 at the beginning of ’98 I got a job with the community nurses and  worked with them ever since until the end of my working career, which was wonderful. 

Community nursing had previously been RDNS, the Royal District Nursing Service, so  essentially you went back to working for an organisation that you had worked for in the  past.

LT: Yes, yes. Everything goes around in circles. It was really funny because Chris, his first  teaching appointment was at Amata Aboriginal School, so he returned there as a School  Principal so that was circular.  

Then he went to Port Elliot Primary as a child? 

LT: He went to Port Elliot Primary School as a child. 

He went back there as the Principal. 

LT: Yes, so there’s another circle. 

A circle of life. 

LT: Yes it is. 

So now we’re in the ‘90s and heading to the turn of the century, how had Victor Harbor  changed again in that time? 

LT: Expanding, growing yes. The Primary School had been bought out by Woolworths, was it  Woolworths? Yes I think it was. No, it was bought out by, was it Woolies? 

Yeah. 

LT: Yeah. 

So four generations of your family have gone to that school and now it’s sold but to talk  about another circle you find yourself working back at the school, doing immunisations. 

LT: Doing immunisations, yes. Oh yes, there’s lots of skeletons in the cupboards there. That  was the Grade Seven classroom where we did the immunisations there. 

That was part of your role as a community nurse, so you set up the Clinic and ran it? LT: Yes. 

Provided immunisations for babies and up to five years old? 

LT: Yes up to five year olds. That happened because the immunisation rates were a bit down  here in this area and my Line Manager was approached by the Health Commission saying that  according to our records your immunisation rates are a bit low, especially in the four year olds.  How about setting up a Clinic, an immunisation clinic? Those negotiations went with Joe Byrne  so that was when Joe Byrne and Sue West and Kerryn Windsor-Male, Helen Gregor and we  established an Immunisation Clinic. 

Because of my love of babies that was right up my alley, I just loved it. Again, it was only done  on a minor scale with comparison but it was a very good thing to do. And now it’s stopped. Bad  luck. Right, what else? 

Any other memories of Victor Harbor that you might have or comments that you’d like to  make about the town, how it’s developed, spread; key things that you might recall. 

LT: We are very much entrenched in this community. The horse-drawn tram was back in the  1960s, ‘50s and ‘60s, was driven by Chris’ Grandpa.

Really? 

LT: Yes. 

So that was the train when it was the train? 

LT: No it was before the train. 

So it was horse? 

LT: Yeah it was horse. If you go inside a carriage now there’s an old photograph of Chris’ cousin sitting on top of the horse, the draught horse, with his Grandpa holding the horse’s head. 

Memories of doing swimming lessons in summer-time. 

Where were they held? 

LT: The ones that I can remember, some of them were held in the Hindmarsh River, you  wouldn’t be able to do that now. A lot of them were held on Granite Island I remember when I  was little, just in the waters underneath the jetty over there. 

Was that the Screwpile Jetty or the Causeway? 

LT: No the Causeway. It was a childhood filled with sun and surf and sand really and fishing. I  didn’t do fishing, Dad did. Just carefree. I used to have to make friends during the holidays as a  child with the holiday people who had holiday houses down here. They often had speedboats  and we used to go down to the Coorong. Unfortunately I hung around like a bad smell so they  took me along as well. 

One particular friend was Rosemary Day. She was the same age as me so I did a lot with that  family because she was the youngest, no she wasn’t the youngest, she was the only girl out of  four boys so they took me along to keep her company. We did a lot of things together; we used  to go out onto Wright’s Island camping overnight, things like that. Just a carefree childhood  really. Lots of surfing, lots of sand, sea. Dad used to go to the Museum, the South Australian  Museum, I think it was the Museum that approached him to go and tag some penguins over on Wright’s Island. We went out there one night and Dad said, “Come on boys, put your hand in, they don’t bite!” So he put his hand in and pulled it out very quickly, got a peck on his finger. Of course, there’s no penguins there now at all. 

On Wright Island? 

LT: No, it’s full of boxthorn. A small beach, we used to go out there and there was enough room  for us to have a camp at night, sleep overnight. The house that my father was born in, Lallawa, is still standing on Franklin Parade. 

Do you know the number or what would be the nearest side street to that home? 

LT: It’s in between, just down, two houses down from the Fountain Inn. 

OK, so heading towards Victor?

LT: Heading towards Victor. 

Right, OK. 

LT: I think it’s Fell Street on this side and there was a house called Bachelors’ Hall because  there were a lot of boarding houses down here in the 1920s and ‘30s. Mum used to talk about  Bachelors’ Hall. Encounter Bay was a very tight community then with the Rumbelows and the Shannons. Being a tight community they used to support each other. 

I can remember Mum telling me, she wasn’t an old lady but she was a very kind lady would  always, she had a domestic cow she used to make custards and things with this milk from the  cow but she was a carrier for one of the diseases. It wasn’t until there was a doctor had a home,  holiday house on Franklin Parade, nearby, and his son got this disease, because she’d made  the family a custard and he tracked it down to her because she didn’t know she was a carrier.  He got her treated and solved the problem. I should know what disease it was, it was a nasty  one, not glandular fever or anything like that or Hepatitis A but it was something like that. 

Right! What else? 

If you’ve got nothing else you’d like to add. 

LT: The first job I ever had was a Community Nurse and it was the best job I ever had, true  nursing position. 

It was. Hear, hear! OK Leah, we’ll leave it there for today. 

LT: Thank you Sue. 

Thank you very much indeed, it’s been a pleasure. 

LT: Thank you.