Teddy's Croc
Posted: Fri Feb 14, 2020 7:24 pm
Authors note:
When the bull catching shut down for the wet in 69/70, I got a job on Elsey Station,
not far out of Mataranka in the Northern Territory.
We would often set a gill net downriver from the homestead, to catch Barramundi.
Teddy’s Croc
(By Alan McCosker November 2019)
Just a bit down river, in the Roper deep and narra
me and Ted had strung a net, to try and catch some barra
and on one sunny sunday we went there to strip it clean
we wished it fulla barra, not just bony bloody bream
Now Ted was overseer of grand old Elsey station
his wife and young ‘un joined us, to be part of the action
our minds were full, as we bounced along that rough old station track
with thoughts of tasty barra, we hoped we would take back
Just upstream, from the net, we had tied a little tinnie
and when we all got on board, the space left was quite tiny
to haul the gill net up on board and pile up barramundi
there was little room for all but we’d worry ‘bout that shortly
We rowed down river, ‘round a bend, to where the net was set
but as we closed, we could not see the floats atop the net
we could see that each side of the net was still tied to it’s anchor
so we took to thinkin’ that we’d caught, all the barra in the Roper
Ted’s wife rowed along the net, we began to clean the mesh out
over the side came bony bream, half a dozen in each square foot
we picked ‘em out and chucked ‘em back into the deep clear waters
we’d come for barramundi, not those tasteless bony wasters
But soon a barramundi and pretty soon another
as we moved along the net, we soon had enough for dinner
but as we rowed out closer to the middle of the river
the net was gettin’ heavy, for to lift it was much harder
Ted reckoned we had caught a log, now hangin’ like a dead weight
the tinnie rocked as we hauled the net, I hoped we wouldn’t fall out
but when the weight was finally up, we could see we were mistaken
a large fresh water croc hung there, his eyes not even blinkin’
Now as you know, them crocodiles, they’ve got no gills for breathin’
if they can’t come up now and then for air, then like us they’ll be drownin’
this croc was quite entangled, by his snout he was held tightly
ted poked him in the eye and said “ he’s dead, it’s safe as can be ”
Sittin’ there we pondered, what on earth should we do with him
ted then said “ take ‘im back to shore, so that I can skin ‘im ”
with mighty heaves we got him in, his snout and tail hung out
there we were, four in the boat, with that dead croc laid right out
We finished cleanin’ out the net and rowed back up the river
when we got back to the moorin’ spot, I thought I saw croc shiver
with a mighty heave we threw him out and he landed with a big thump
then gave a grunt and made to stand and opened his jaws right up
Ted leapt swiftly from the boat and before the croc could wake up
sat on his back and pushed down his jaws, yellin’ “quick now tie his jaws up ”
I grabbed some rope out of the ute and tied his jaws up tightly
lashed his hind legs ‘cross his back, that stopped him gettin’ feisty
He was longer than the tinnie, at least five foot six quite easy
scarred by many battles his hide was rough and scaly
a freshwater croc, that was that long, would have to quite ancient
it seemed a shame to bump him off, just for his scaly waistcoat
Ted then got a bright idea “ let’s take him back to elsey ”
“ we’ll sell him to Mataranka Zoo, to this croc they’ll take a fancy ”
we hog tied him up on the ute and arrived back home by evenin’
on monday ted then phoned the Zoo, got told where we could stick ‘im
We decided not to skin him out, alive he was more handsome
but tied up in the kitchen yard, he had become quite bothersome
so we hog tied him up on the ute, took him back down to the river
he knocked me down with his powerful tail, as we carried him to the water
The last we saw of that crocodile he was powerin’ through the water
headin’ upstream, he weren’t lookin’ back, paddlin’ hell for leather
sometimes at night I lie and think about what might have happened
if he’d woke up while in the boat and those jaws had started snappin’
When the bull catching shut down for the wet in 69/70, I got a job on Elsey Station,
not far out of Mataranka in the Northern Territory.
We would often set a gill net downriver from the homestead, to catch Barramundi.
Teddy’s Croc
(By Alan McCosker November 2019)
Just a bit down river, in the Roper deep and narra
me and Ted had strung a net, to try and catch some barra
and on one sunny sunday we went there to strip it clean
we wished it fulla barra, not just bony bloody bream
Now Ted was overseer of grand old Elsey station
his wife and young ‘un joined us, to be part of the action
our minds were full, as we bounced along that rough old station track
with thoughts of tasty barra, we hoped we would take back
Just upstream, from the net, we had tied a little tinnie
and when we all got on board, the space left was quite tiny
to haul the gill net up on board and pile up barramundi
there was little room for all but we’d worry ‘bout that shortly
We rowed down river, ‘round a bend, to where the net was set
but as we closed, we could not see the floats atop the net
we could see that each side of the net was still tied to it’s anchor
so we took to thinkin’ that we’d caught, all the barra in the Roper
Ted’s wife rowed along the net, we began to clean the mesh out
over the side came bony bream, half a dozen in each square foot
we picked ‘em out and chucked ‘em back into the deep clear waters
we’d come for barramundi, not those tasteless bony wasters
But soon a barramundi and pretty soon another
as we moved along the net, we soon had enough for dinner
but as we rowed out closer to the middle of the river
the net was gettin’ heavy, for to lift it was much harder
Ted reckoned we had caught a log, now hangin’ like a dead weight
the tinnie rocked as we hauled the net, I hoped we wouldn’t fall out
but when the weight was finally up, we could see we were mistaken
a large fresh water croc hung there, his eyes not even blinkin’
Now as you know, them crocodiles, they’ve got no gills for breathin’
if they can’t come up now and then for air, then like us they’ll be drownin’
this croc was quite entangled, by his snout he was held tightly
ted poked him in the eye and said “ he’s dead, it’s safe as can be ”
Sittin’ there we pondered, what on earth should we do with him
ted then said “ take ‘im back to shore, so that I can skin ‘im ”
with mighty heaves we got him in, his snout and tail hung out
there we were, four in the boat, with that dead croc laid right out
We finished cleanin’ out the net and rowed back up the river
when we got back to the moorin’ spot, I thought I saw croc shiver
with a mighty heave we threw him out and he landed with a big thump
then gave a grunt and made to stand and opened his jaws right up
Ted leapt swiftly from the boat and before the croc could wake up
sat on his back and pushed down his jaws, yellin’ “quick now tie his jaws up ”
I grabbed some rope out of the ute and tied his jaws up tightly
lashed his hind legs ‘cross his back, that stopped him gettin’ feisty
He was longer than the tinnie, at least five foot six quite easy
scarred by many battles his hide was rough and scaly
a freshwater croc, that was that long, would have to quite ancient
it seemed a shame to bump him off, just for his scaly waistcoat
Ted then got a bright idea “ let’s take him back to elsey ”
“ we’ll sell him to Mataranka Zoo, to this croc they’ll take a fancy ”
we hog tied him up on the ute and arrived back home by evenin’
on monday ted then phoned the Zoo, got told where we could stick ‘im
We decided not to skin him out, alive he was more handsome
but tied up in the kitchen yard, he had become quite bothersome
so we hog tied him up on the ute, took him back down to the river
he knocked me down with his powerful tail, as we carried him to the water
The last we saw of that crocodile he was powerin’ through the water
headin’ upstream, he weren’t lookin’ back, paddlin’ hell for leather
sometimes at night I lie and think about what might have happened
if he’d woke up while in the boat and those jaws had started snappin’
