For a while there, we were a little chuffed, having crossed from one side of the country to the other with only a shredded tyre and rim as penalty for our daring do. However two weeks after we set up at Humpty Doo, I noticed something that smelt like coolant coming from somewhere under the bonnet, but my comatose mechanical brain merely thought is was odd, without pursuing any line of enquiry.
Two days later, the oil can lit up on the dash. “Odd” he thinks again. “Only had an oil change 5000 k’s ago.” So, unable to connect the dots, promptly bought 4 litres of oil, putting equal amounts in, and around the oil intake, then started to drive the 5klm to the van. Barely 2klm on, the temperature guage arches like a javelin thrower. I pull over, the engine cuts off automatically and the radiator fan goes ballistic. So, I wait nervously until the fan slows down to a dull roar,. The computer allows a restart and I idle the rest of the way home. Then, and only then, do I check the radiator. Mmmmm…empty. Better put some water in. What’s that hissing noise coming from behind the engine? Dunno. I’ll fill her up and see what happens. I wander back half an hour later to find most of the water had pooled on the concrete.
Now things were looking a bit serious. Only two known options to me. Burst hoses or much, much worse. Clearly this girl wasn’t going anywhere. Luckily we had taken out the premium, deluxe, 2nd mortgage required, NRMA Roadside Assistance package (and after this little episode, worth every cent). Within the hour, the Jeep was being trailered to the Jeep dealer at Winellie where it would sit in the yard for six days waiting for the surgeons’s diagnosis. Luckily it was only not one, but two hoses that had chucked it in, and not the much, much worse. Now two grand to replace hoses sounds outrageous, but as any Jeep owner knows, if you can’t afford the repairs, don’t buy one. However, we did anyway, the consolation being that it had low k’s, in excellent condition and a pre-covid price. This cushions the sucker punch to our finances, every time something needs fixing, which thankfully is only occasionally. To be fair to our Jeep, we had towed the van across Australia in the middle of summer with hoses 170,000 klm’s old, so not the brand this time. But wait, there’s more….
“Sure,we can replace those parts for you. Just have to get them in from the States. Six to eight weeks probably.” Say what??? “Yeah, we checked around the dealers. No-one has any , sorry.” So, if you know me at all, that wasn’t going to happen. All you need is Google, a mobile phone and a couple of contacts. An hour later, had found one hose in WA and the second was inbound on a truck somewhere. OK, not so bad. It could be worse….
Unfortunately, as you know, we’re not content to poke the bad luck bear just once. A week passed and we got by borrowing Pete and Jen’s Corolla to get essential supplies. Our hosts were due back the next day. We needed to stay here longer than planned. Hope that would be OK. Better make sure the bird aviary looks schmick. And there it was…..the horror, the horror, the aviary door wide open and nothing inside but scattered seed and a farewell note stuck with bird shit to a mirror. What had I done?? The latch had not been secured properly. Oh……of course I was to blame. Budgies don’t have opposing thumbs. Neither do dogs, cats or foxes come to think about it. Jen’s pride and joy could not have looked more desolate. How to not ingratiate yourself before asking a huge favour.
I was bereft. I’d let our friends down. A quick ring around the pet shops dismissed any notion of subterfuge. “No, they look the same to me Jen.” was not going to play out. And what’s worse, the quail were Japanese quail. The God’s sake, they couldn’t even fly. How far could they run? Every piece of undergrowth was checked and rechecked. I’d never felt so ruined, unless you count the time Chikka Furgeson scored for Canberra against my Balmain in the dying seconds of the 1989 Grand Final. I’d managed to find a lady who sold budgies and quail at the local markets on a Saturday, but there was going to be a confession before that, and my penance?…….. too dire to even imagine.
to be continued…...