When Grandpa Was A Boy, Were There Any Dinosaurs?

Tag archive: Australia

Infinitely Slowly

John Mainstone, of the University of Queensland, photographed in 1990 with the pitch drop experiment

1988: For half a century, John Mainstone oversaw the University of Queensland’s pitch drop experiment, in which pitch – the tarry substance used to make boat seams watertight – dripped infinitely slowly from a funnel into a flask. Set up in 1927, the experiment demonstrated that pitch is not a solid, but an extremely viscous liquid.

Although a drop fell from the funnel only once every decade or so, paradoxically, when this happened, it happened in an instant. One weekend in April 1979, aware that a drop was about to fall, Mainstone kept a close watch on the experiment, but nothing happened, so he went home. When he returned on Monday, the drop had fallen. Nine years later, he was determined to witness the next drop, but briefly abandoned his vigil to go for a cup of tea. When he came back, the drop had fallen.

Source: www.wnycstudios.org/story/
267176-never-quite-now

Grammatical Genders

1972: In The Dyirbal Language of North Queensland, Robert Dixon identified four grammatical genders. The first gender included men, the moon, storms, rainbows, boomerangs, kangaroos and possums. Women were in the second gender, lumped together with the sun and stars, bandicoots, platypuses, most birds (since birds were the spirits of dead women) and hairy mary grubs. Trees with edible fruit formed the third gender, and the fourth consisted of parts of the body, the wind, digging sticks, bees and honey, noises, grass, mud and stones.

Source: R.M.W. Dixon, The Dyirbal Language of North Queensland (1972), pp. 306–11

Emus On Rampage

1932: Large mobs of emus, migrating from the interior of Western Australia to the coast, pecked and trampled crops in the state’s wheat belt, especially around the town of Campion. The farmers, many of them First World War veterans, clamoured for the authorities to deploy machine guns against the marauders. A contingent of soldiers armed with Lewis guns was sent into battle, but the birds were too speedy and too wily, scattering into small groups and dashing for cover as soon as the guns opened up. “Major Meredith and his merry men” claimed a thousand kills, but the inglorious campaign failed to impress anyone, and was scathingly referred to as the “Emu War”.

Source: Journal of Australian Studies, 2006

Let Stalk Strine

1965: Let Stalk Strine offered Poms, Yanks and others a glimpse of Strine – English with an Australian twang. A few examples:
share: shower, either the bathroom or meteorological sort, as in a “cole share” or “scadded shares and thunnerstorms”
egg jelly: in fact, really
air fridge: ordinary, not extreme, as in “the air fridge person”
tea nature: adolescent
baked necks: a popular breakfast dish
rise up lides: used by men for shiving
split nair dyke: continuous and severe pain in the head
londger ray: women’s underclothing
ebb tide: hunger, desire for food (“I dono watser matter, I jess got no ebb tide these dyes.”)
nerve sprike tan: mental collapse caused by stress, anxiety, etc. (“He never let sarp, marm. He’ll ever nerve sprike tan the waze goane.”)

Source: Afferbeck Lauder, Let Stalk Strine: A Lexicon of Modern Strine Usage (1965)

Six O’Clock Swill Comes To An End

1967: South Australia became the last Australian state to abolish 6 o’clock closing at hotel bars. That put an end to the hour of frantic drinking after men finished work, characterised by “a flurry of shirt-sleeves, spilt froth, slapped-down change, and swished dish-cloths,” when “glasses of beer were slid two or three at a time along the wet counter-tops as fast as they could be pulled.” Then came the spectacle, after closing time, of drunken men tumbling out into the streets, lurching and vomiting their way home. No wonder it was called “the 6 o’clock swill”.

Source: J.M. Freeland, The Australian Pub (1966), p. 176

A barmaid at work in Petty’s Hotel in Sydney in 1941, photographed by Max Dupain

Mouldy Clothing

1940: If the Wehrmacht crossed the English Channel and German jackboots got as far as Oxford, the Australian Howard Florey and his team of researchers at the university planned to destroy their work on penicillin to prevent it benefitting the enemy.

Hoping to salvage something from their efforts, they intended to rub Penicillium notatum into the fabric of their coats, knowing that the spores of mould could survive for years. Then at some time, somewhere, they might be able to resume their work.

Source: Eric Lax, The Mould in Dr Florey’s Coat: The Remarkable True Story of the Penicillin Miracle (2004), pp. 4, 158–9

Australian Rabbits Outfox Fences

1907: In 1859, Thomas Austin released two dozen rabbits on his farm near Geelong in eastern Australia. “A few rabbits could do little harm and might provide a touch of home, in addition to a spot of hunting,” he suggested. Austin’s “few rabbits” quickly multiplied to become millions, which destroyed crops and pasture and contributed to the extinction or major decline of several native animal and plant species.

Hunting, trapping and poisoning failed to contain the pests. Western Australia constructed 3,200 kilometres of wire mesh barriers – the Nos. 1, 2 and 3 Rabbit Proof Fences – but by the time they were completed in 1907, rabbits had already got round, over, under or through them.

Source: http://pandora.nla.gov.au/pan/43156/20040709-0000/agspsrv34.agric.wa.gov.au/programs/app/barrier/history.htm

Boundary rider’s team at the 100 mile No. 1 fence in Western Australia in 1926

Boundary rider’s team alongside the No. 1 Rabbit Proof Fence in Western Australia in 1926