I would like to acknowledge that this book was conceived and written in Menang Country in the Great Southern of Western Australia.
The title of the work was deliberately chosen to echo a fine novel by Randolph Stow, who won the Miles Franklin Literary Award with To the Islands in 1958.
Surprisingly, there are always a lot of people to thank when you write a book on your own. There’s my publisher and editor, Georgia Richter. Given the joys of working with Georgia I could just leave it there but I have to mention Clive Newman who kept encouraging me to write again. Then there are old friends: the man who put me back on track, Ken Spillman, the man who continues to offer sound and smart advice, Chris McLeod, and the woman who keeps me close, Grytsje Doust.
This book was not easy to write and two others helped beyond measure: Brian Malone and Piet Claassen, who not only read early drafts, they also informed the final work. Two others helped in particular ways: Harley Coyne and Andrew Wenzel; and Deborah Spittle again applied her sharp eyes. Readers of early drafts who offered encouraging words included Warren Flynn, Todd Shilkin and Louise Austen. And a final, deep acknowledgement for the fine proofreading of Naama Amram.