Lake Eyre ‘64

[Glen Hughes]

5 - Lake Eyre ‘64

Just a spec on the map, just a mark in time,
outback South Australia was selected.
To break a land speed record, forward planning on the line,
but the outcome more than anyone expected.
The curse of the Lake, with its crystal eyes awake,
and it’s closely held secrets in its heart,
will consume all who enter, if they reach the very centre,
so plan your adventure from the start.

Campbell and his Bluebird, with his team of help in tow,
arrived at the station in full drought.
The Boss swung in to action, greeting all with open arms,
saw a dollar could be made without a doubt.
Filled homes with beds and people, came from all across the world,
station tracks upgraded, safe and short.
Provisions trucked in daily, we were living pretty high,
station air-strip sprung into a port.

Army Camp - PMG - Police and DCA,
converged and built their bases in the sand.
Refuelling never ending, planes trucks and cars,
BP came on board to lend a hand.
A large mess hall, more toilets, and a cinema, installed,
a car shed soon converted to a bar.
Social interaction, at the end of every day,
where yarns and stories swapped, from near and far.

All serenity was broken, and Lake Eyre was awoken,
as the Bluebird turbine engine fired in time.
To the runway then she’s screaming, and quickly disappearing,
her only navigation, down a thin blue line.
Speeds were inconsistent, the breezes so persistent,
the lake was proving difficult to traverse.
Wind was like a serpent, as it wound across the surface,
inconsistent, as it carried out its curse.

The press attended daily, made the journey back and forth,
hoping that today would be the day.
To get that shot, and rush it, right around the world,
but sadly just left sitting in dismay.
Their temperance was tested, their mental state on trial,
oh this god forsaken surface, salt and flies.
Look, and there is nothing, just as far as one can see,
so stay within your limits, or you’ll die.

Season turned, rain set in, the drought at last was broken,
Lake Eyre really was a lake, again.
Campbell called a meeting, to announce the cancellation,
but insisted, we’ll be back, behind this rain.
The desert changes quickly, from wet back to a dry,
the homestead in full swing and money making.
Everyone excited, to be back on board again,
on the lake, a new track soon in preparation.

This time round, they hit the ground, there appeared to be more purpose,
and Campbell with his mind in gear, was tearing up the surface.
Excitement spread throughout the camp, someone sensed a warning,
word of mouth, late one night, be there in the morning.
All arrived and settled in, just as dawn was broken,
the hatch was closed, thumb was up, Lake Eyre was awoken.
Not a breath of wind, just perfect, and everything in place,
it’s time to shake the shackles off, and let the Bluebird race,

Bluebird limped back quietly, as she rolled up to a stop,
with bated breath, the crowd all looking glum.
The two way gave a crackle, word came down the line,
measured mile, average speed, 403.1
Hats were thrown into the air, the record finally broken,
headlines bounced around the world, written word was spoken.
But Campbell just got lucky, the curse, caught out of time,
he found a space, a moment, with the serpent out of rhyme.

Seasons come and seasons go, and Campbell’s time was up,
so many days of testing times, he finally held the Cup,
Muloorina back in action, now rejoicing, not deprived,
the country looking awesome, and another drought survived.
The underlying element in all their tests and trials,
was the way they fought to conquer, after all their sweat and miles,
The lake now back at peace again, the curse lies low, abating,
consuming all that wanders through, new crystals are in waiting.

Glen Hughes ©
10/3/22

[Shelley Hansen]

I remember Donald Campbell's Lake Eyre adventure so well, Glen. I was 8 years old and it made a huge impression on me.

Interestingly, we passed by Lake Eyre 20 years later, in '84 - it was far from dry then! We were in a coach and got bogged twice on the Birdsville Track!