Tonight we're all Koreans!

 

 

Did you know that South Korea's national anthem was originally set to the tune of the Scottish folk song, Auld Lang Syne, after Scottish missionaries brought the song into the country and made it respectable? Of course, you did!

(The composer Ahn Eak-tai wrote new, far more boring, music for the anthem in 1935 after hearing the Scottish original and, presumably, realising it was a song for drinking rather than praising nationhood.)

I love my kimchi but my Korean is pretty lousy, so I stick to the German version which I sang with the Boy Scouts when I was still in Germany and knee-high to a grasshopper, and long before I had heard of Robert Burns.

 

 

Nehmt Abschied, Brüder, ungewiß ist alle Wiederkehr, die Zukunft liegt in Finsternis und macht das Herz uns schwer. Refrain: Der Himmel wölbt sich übers Land, Ade, auf Wiedersehn! Wir ruhen all in Gottes Hand, Lebt wohl auf Wiedersehn. Die Sonne sinkt, es steigt die Nacht, vergangen ist der Tag. Die Welt schläft ein, und leis erwacht der Nachtigallen Schlag. So ist in jedem Anbeginn das Ende nicht mehr weit. Wir kommen her und gehen hin und mit uns geht die Zeit. Nehmt Abschied, Brüder, schließt den Kreis, das Leben ist ein Spiel. nur wer es recht zu leben weiß, gelangt ans große Ziel.

 

There seem to be two lyrics, one which reads, "das Leben ist kein Spiel", and the more optimistic version which removes the pessimistic 'k'.

I've always sung "das Leben ist ein Spiel" (life is a game), and I'm still singing it, so let's be thankful and raise our glasses for auld lang syne!

 

 

All of us at Riverbend
wish all of you a Happy New Year!

 

the same rainbow lorikeets and king parrots on the verandah, the same possum and her joey in the possum penthouse, the same ducks and the white heron by and the turtles in the pond, the same pelicans in the lagoon, the same George the Goanna, the same water dragons in the shed, the same echidna at the bottom of the property, the same mice in the attic and, of course, the same Padma and yours truly who had wished you a merry Christmas only a week ago because nothing ever changes at Riverbend which is beautiful one day and perfect the next!

 

 

 

Que Sera, Sera (Whatever Will Be Will Be)

 

A new year awaits around the corner. How much we look ahead with trepidation or excited anticipation depends, at least partly, on our habits of thought.

Uncertainty is a universal human predicament: 'the future’s not ours to see', as this song, popular in the 1950s, put it. In Germany, a whole generation grew up with the refrain in their ears - in German, of course: ""Was kann schöner sein / Viel schöner als Ruhm und Geld? / Für mich gibt's auf dieser Welt / Doch nur dich allein! / Was kann schöner sein?"

 

 

And what could've been more uncertain than growing up in post-war Germany? Perhaps that's why this song was so popular: it reflected resignation, acceptance, sometimes even optimism about the future; in any case, its fatalism made light of the dark situation we all were in.

Even after the more existential worries have been taking care of - food, a roof over our head, a job, etc. - we still worry. I certainly did as no period of my life was ever totally free of dread-filled apprehensions.

What we seldom ever get around to doing – once the dreaded event is past – is to pause and compare the scale of the worry with what actually happened in the end. We are too taken up with the next topic of alarm ever to return for a "worry audit". If we did, a strange realisation would dawn on us: that our worries are nearly always completely – and deeply – out of line with reality. Extended out across a year, such a "worry audit" would, I am sure, yield similar conclusions. Perhaps the world is not – for all its dangers – as awful as we presume. Perhaps most of the drama is ultimately unfolding only in our own minds.

Looking back over a lifetime of worrying about the future, it helps to remember Mark Twain’s famous dictum: ‘I have lived through many disasters; only a few of which actually happened’. "Que Sera, Sera."

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Last Stop Larrimah

 

Nestled deep in the Australian Outback, 500 kilometres down the Stuart Highway from Darwin, is the town of Larrimah and its 11 eccentric residents. When one of them mysteriously disappears into thin air, the remaining residents become suspects and a long history of infighting is unveiled.

 

 

But six years on from December 16, 2017, the day Larrimah man Paddy Moriarty, 70, and his kelpie Kellie left their house for the last time, his disappearance remains a mystery. Despite extensive searches, public appeals and a coronial inquest, police appear no closer to unravelling the truth. Larrimah — already a dysfunctional tangle of disputes and disagreements — remains in a state of disarray.

 

Long before his disappearance, Paddy Moriarty made it to the cover of this book

 

What happened to Paddy and his dog? Was he really fed to a pet crocodile? Could he actually have been baked into a meat pie?

 

 

There is now a growing library of content chronicling the tiny town of Larrimah's eccentric inhabitants, exotic pet predators and absurd feuds.

There've been dozens of news flashes all over the country ...

... then came a six-part hit podcast ...

Part 1 Never Never

Part 2 Off the Rails

Part 3 Humble Pie

Part 4 End of the Line

Part 5 True Word

Part 6 Last Drinks

... an ABC television series ...

... and then a book by the same people who produced the podcast.

Read a preview here

 

Now, with "Last Stop Larrimah", directed by American Thomas Tancred, streaming on Netflix and HBO worldwide, the town's journey from total obscurity six years ago to cultural ubiquity is complete.

 

 

"Last Stop Larrimah" is like an Australian "Lord Of The Flies" but with more flies, being played out by a cast of adult alcoholics who willingly chose to spend their days and nights on the outer edges of civilisation.

 

Dom Joly's Happy Hour was filmed in 2006

 

It almost makes you proud to be Australian!

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Due to ill health, in October 2018 long-time owner Barry Sharpe sold the Larrimah Hotel to Tennant Creek businessman Steve Baldwin. Turning over around $400k annually (mostly to locals?), Barry was hoping for $500,000 for the freehold but settled for an undisclosed lower price. It has since gone digital: click here for its website and facebook page.

 

Nothing to be frightened of

Read it online at www.archive.org

 

An old friend of mine in Greece just sent me an email: "January 1 is the first page of a new book and I wonder what will happen in this book. I’m sorry to bother you with this, but I needed to tell you about my fear of what is inevitable soon. You are such a good friend."

Bozenna is an old friend of mine - in both senses of the world - and she was a dedicated employee when she worked for me in Greece. Perhaps I should send her a copy of Julian Barnes' book "Nothing to be frightened of" or its more bluntly titled twin "Death", a disarmingly witty book in which Julian Barnes confronts our unending obsession with the end. He reflects on what it means to miss God, whether death can be good for our careers and why we eventually turn into our parents. Barnes is the perfect guide to the weirdness of the only thing that binds us all.

The book may not get there in time, but in the meantime there's always "Appointment in Samarra" to console her. It's a Mesopotamian tale about the deadly inescapability of coincidence and fate and death, all bound in a parable designed to both frighten and make sense of life's madness.

 

 

At a time when we're fighting illness as if it were an invader, we're really just fighting ourselves, the bits of us that want to kill the rest of us. Towards the end - if we live long enough - we are left with the competition between the declining and decaying parts of us as to which will get top billing on our death certificate. As Flaubert put it, "No sooner do we come into this world than bits of us start dropping off."

Which is perhaps not a bad thought on which to end another year. We've already had more than our three score and ten, so let's not be greedy.

Μείνε εκεί, Bozenna!

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In memory of VILLA MAMANA

 

Jan and Dave of SY HARMONICA toasting the end of
another day in Paradise on the island's northern spit

 

My involvement with VILLA MAMANA on Telekivava'u goes back to 2006 when I met the Austrian Horst Berger who had made Tonga his home in 1995 and briefly 'house-sat' VILLA MAMANA for the original owner Joe Altenhein.

I never made it to Telekivava'u but reading a blog I had written about Horst Berger, its original owner Joe contacted me in early 2012 - see here - and in 2013 an email arrived from its new owner Matt - see here.

 

GOOGLE Map

 

In the meantime, many yachties had already made landfall at VILLA MAMANA, including Jan and Dave Hutchinson from Calgary in Canada:

 

Dave and Jan on the northern spit of Telekivava'u with Fetokopunga in background

Caretaker Steve Gates on left; Dave on right

 

As they wrote in October 2005 in their logbook aboard SY HARMONICA: "The clearest water we found was probably off the 'resort island' of Telekivavau. The term 'resort island' could be misleading since the last guest checked out nearly six months earlier. A caretaker lives there on his own and takes care of the lovely building and keeps the grass lawn cut. He (Steve from Hawaii) seemed glad to have company for the two days we spent anchored inside his reef and twice he joined us for supper on board Harmonica, and we joined him for sunset drinks on the north beach where we could watch the large flying foxes (fruit bats) desperately flapping from one island to the next, and the frigate birds harassing boobies for food."

 

Dave and Steve outside VILLA MAMANA

The Villa Mamana is situated on deserted Telekivava'u Island in the South Seas last kingdom, the Kingdom of Tonga, 37 nautical miles south of Pangai with its regional airport. This almost untouched part of Polynesia offers all the lonely island cliché could suggest: crystal clear waters, rich marine life, lush tropical vegetation, an authentic culture, and absolute peace of mind. The Villa (built in 1999) is right at the white beach and the shallow lagoon which surrounds the island. 3000 sq/ft of villa hold 2-1/2 bedrooms with ensuite marble bathrooms, the great room, two huge decks (which become part of the great room with the french doors opened), and a porch. All facing west to ensure beautiful sunsets over the warm South Pacific Ocean. High ceilings, wooden floors, teak furniture, and the light reflecting from the lagoon give the colonial style building its special charm. Amenities include: TV, VCD, stereo, satellite phone, fans, washer, workshop, fishing gear, etc. Further down the beach you will find the kitchen house of 700 sq/ft (fully equipped) with a studio, and a smaller house (500sq/ft) which is ideal as caretaker quarter. Included in sale are also a 40ft motor yacht, a 27ft gamefishing power boat, a runabout, and utilities like two diesel gensets, two inverters, two battery banks, solar panels, desalination system, watertank and much more. For photos, click here.

VILLA MAMANA already looking a little worse for wear

Steve and Dave

Dave leaning in entrance to cookhouse

 

Steve was the longest-serving caretaker - where is he now? - with a few more doing shorter stints, including a couple from Germany who pre-tended to live on a desert island and wrote a book about it - see here.

Alas, by 2015 the dream had died - see here - and all that's left of VILLA MAMANA are memories which I'm trying to keep alive by collecting stories and pictures of what the Lonely Planet Travel Guide once described as "the most exclusive and beautiful accommodation in Tonga".

 

 

Dave and Jan were kind enough to send me the above photos. As Dave wrote, "Yes, we did anchor at Telekivavau in 2005 and it was one of our highlights. We don't have many photos of the house, and only went inside once. My memory is of some beautiful solid wood furniture which looked lovely, but had already been eaten through by burrowing bugs. Some of these photos were taken by Steve. He was missing western company when we arrived, and was excellent company. We had a glass of wine on the northern spit most evenings and watched as the flying foxes returned for the night. I am sorry to hear that the place has been 'looted' but am not entirely surprised."

I think I do what Steve, Jan and Dave did and have a sunset drink on Riverbend's jetty this evening and raise a toast to a wonderful dream.

Googlemap Riverbend

 

Wrote Matt Muirhead, the owner: "Dear Peter, thank you for tying a ribbon around what Telekivava’u was. Seeing the pictures brought back a flood of wonderful memories. The white powdery sands that would move around the island with the full moon cycles. The feelings that isolation brought and surfing world-class waves right out the front door. When I retire from full-time work I will write a few words that might give a glimpse to those who long for a far-away paradise."

Wrote Joe Altenhein, the original owner and creator of VILLA MAMANA, a very long time ago: "We all had the best time of our lives on the island, and will always miss it - unless we find another island and build a 'Villa Mamana Lite' just for us."

And here's VILLA MAMANA after cyclone Ian had struck in late 2014:

 

 

But I'm damned if I see how the helican

 

A wonderful bird is the pelican
His bill will hold more than his belican.
He can take in his beak
Enough for a week,
But I'm damned if I see how the helican.

 

Iread somewhere that some 85 per cent of Australians live less than 50 kilometres from the sea. No wonder they all rush to the coast come Christmas time, like eager lemmings. Conga lines of cars coming down Kings Highway from Canberra, road rage in the Bay, the hoonish summer coastal pox of jet skis on the river ...

It's Wednesday after Christmas, and the lemmings are returning to their ambulances and police sirens and early-morning trucks in the city, leaving me, free of the need to dash, to my lunch-drugged continental siesta - 'the hour for daydreams', as Graham Greene called it.

To send the last few lingering holidaymakers on their way, it started to drizzle, with everything shimmering in degrees of slate, like a Chinese brush-and-ink painting. The end of yet another peaceful Christmas.

We spent "silent night, holy night" on the jetty, dangling our feet in the water, drinking champers and lighten sparklers. The navigating lights on the river flashed red, green, red, green. It felt lonely but comforting. An equally lonely kayaker silently floated by and stopped for a chat. "Lived here all your life?" he asked. "Not yet", I replied, and winked.

Googlemap Riverbend

 

 

Longing to be back in Saudi Arabia?

 

No, I'm not - although I do admit that life was a lot simpler there: work, eat, sleep - but it's always good to learn more about a place which has had such a great impact on my life.

Nicole Kidman was just fifteen years old when I lived and worked in Saudi Arabia, but here she plays Gertrude Bell CBE, rightly known as 'The Queen of the Desert' and as a woman far ahead of her time.

She explored, mapped, and excavated the Arab world throughout the early twentieth century. Recruited by British intelligence during World War I, she played a crucial role in obtaining the loyalty of Arab leaders, and her connections and information provided the brains to match T. E. Lawrence's brawn. After the war, she played a major role in creating the modern Middle East and was, at the time, considered the most powerful woman in the British Empire.

 

 

Crack a PEPSI, Des, and watch the movie - it and Nicole Kidman don't do the real Gertrude Bell justice; then read the book online at archive.org.

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How's your Christmas Bean?

 

Did you get the presents you put on your letter to Santa? You would've if you have followed the advice I gave you after last year's disappointment when I told you to write your letter on sandpaper so Santa won't use it for anything else.

We've had two days and two nights of torrential rain and wild weather which made it difficult to maintain "elf-control" and keep Christmas at the Santa of our attention. In the end, we resorted to a "sleigh" of hand by watching an old Mr Bean Christmas movie. Why don't you join us?

 

 

We leave it at that and trust you had yourself a merry Christmas!

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The $3 million question

 

It's a totally rained-out Christmas Day, so I might as well make it even worse by dwelling on the proposal, announced by the Federal Treasurer on 28 February 2023, to impose an extra tax of 15% on superannuation balances of more than $3 million from 1 July 2025.

With eighteen months to go, there's still time for the proposal to be watered down or, better still, for chinless Airbus Albo to be tossed out of government altogether. Remember the immortal words of the 1972 Whitlam campaign, Albo? It was "It's time", so hit the road. We're done.

As for the proposal, this is as it stands now:

The new 15% tax will impact anyone who has a Total Superannuation Balance of more than $3m which is not indexed. The tax is in addition to any tax their superannuation funds pay on earnings in accumulation phase. As a result, earnings linked to balances above $3 million will generally be subject to a combined headline rate of 30%. The announcement has stirred an uproar in the industry as an unindexed cap of $3m is estimated to impact more than the 80,000 individuals when the extra tax commences in 2025.

The new 15% tax is not an increase on the tax rate on the individual’s taxable income. Instead, the tax applies to a portion of the individual’s earnings (which includes unrealised capital gains!) on their superannuation balance. The calculation has three components:

 

Click on image to enlarge

 

The Treasury's Factsheet "Better Targeted Superannuation Concessions" gives the example of a fictitious taxpayer named Carlos who is 69 and retired and has a superannuation balance of $10 million. According to this example, Carlos pays $120,750 extra tax on the amount by which his superannuation balance in excess of $3 million grew during the year.

The current-year-minus-last-year superannuation balance increase includes both actual earnings as well as unrealised capital gains. The tax paid on these unrealised capital gains will not be refunded even if the unrealised capital gains are never realised in future years.

How will this impact the 80,000 individuals with large superannuation balances? That's the $3 million question.

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Christmas 1975 at Noel Butler's place in Wewak

Yours truly somewhere in the wilds of the Sepik District

 

Before the mice start chewing on them, I thought it best to scan some of these old black-and-white photos and put them up on the net. They date back to Christmas 1975 when I visited my best mate Noel Butler in Wewak.

I had just come back from Burma after having - very unwisely - resigned from what was the perfect job, and was spending Christmas 1975 with Noel before jetting off to my next assignment in Tehran in Iran.

Noel had been one of the Territorians I met aboard the Greek ship PATRIS at the end of 1967. Our love of chess made Noel and me shipboard mates and we spent many hours hunched over the chess board as the ship ploughed its way towards Europe. And as we played game after game, I learnt about the Territory and listened to stories of some the Territory's 'old-timers', and my mind was made up that one day I too would go to the then Territory of Papua & New Guinea - click here.

 

Outside the post office, about to cable my ETA to my new employers in Iran

Noel Butler at his saksak house just outside Wewak

Noel (left) and yours truly

Noel and yours truly somewhere on a hill overlooking Wewak

Noel's old ute with yours truly in the back somewhere outside Wewak.

 

Almost fifty years later, I still remember this wonderful Christmas in a wonderful place with a wonderful friend! All die Jahre wieder ...

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