I reckon this could be my last trip over east,’ Petri was telling Shelley as they waited for Alec.

‘Oh! That’s a real shame. Why?’

‘There’s not much more I can get from research. Now it’s the proof of the pudding time with some more work in the field.’

‘We’ll miss your visits. I guess we’ll have to make a trip over to Perth.’

Petri noticed she used ‘we’ and not ‘I’. As the relationship between Alec and Shelley had prospered, he found it difficult to suppress feelings of jealousy towards Alec. Everything about Shelley made her seem like the woman he would like to be with for life. But Petri did not let it come between the friendship the two men shared.

‘So things are getting serious between you and Alec?’

‘Absolutely. There is the issue with Katherine though. He is finding it really hard to forget her. I wouldn’t want him to but he finds it difficult to even date me at times.’

‘It must be hard for him. For both of you.’

‘It is. I’m not sure where it will go though. I would like a family and I’m not getting any younger. Unfortunately, women have this biological clock. We want everything: career, marriage, family. It’s tricky to fit it all in.’

‘Alec’s a great friend. I feel he is almost like a brother. But sadly, I also like you a great deal! Strange to think we’ve known each other only about four years. It feels like for ever.’

‘Why ‘sadly,’ I thought you were a friend too?’

‘Of course, but you must realise I am in a difficult position. I would love to be the one dating you but there’s no way I would even think of it while Alec and you are an item.’

‘Oh! Petri. I hate these triangles. I love both Alec and you, but in different ways. I want both of you as friends forever but Alec is the one I’ve really fallen in love with.’

‘As Ned Kelly said, ‘such is life’!’ Petri laughed.

The conversation, moving into quicksand territory, was fortunately ended by the arrival of Alec.

‘Sorry I’m late. Good to see you, Petri.’ He greeted Petri while kissing Shelley’s cheek. ‘So what’s the plan? We have to do something special before Petri goes.’ He referred to the fact that Petri had finished a week of research in Melbourne and was due to return in the morning.

‘Tra-ra!’ Shelley held up three tickets. ‘All organised: MSO tonight for an evening of music. And good seats too.’

‘Great! Dinner first at our favourite restaurant in Lygon Street. Let’s go.’

* * *

A few weeks later Petri was back in the desert of Western Australia putting into practice the results of his research. The area he had to cover was huge. With just one man it was going to take some time. He had been in the field for a couple of weeks and now was gratefully heading home. The Toyota travelled comfortably westwards and Petri relaxed. He knew this road well.

Suddenly conditions changed. As Petri rounded a corner he slammed on his brakes. The truck skidded wildly across the gravel road. He fought to regain control, cursing himself for not concentrating. He brought the sliding vehicle under control and relaxed. Almost in the centre of the road was a battered yellow Holden utility, surrounded by a group of men. Wearing jeans and singlets or check-patterned shirts, they were standing around looking at the vehicle. Petri stopped and reversed back, angry at their choice of parking place.

‘What kind of a dumb place is that to stop?’ he angrily asked the group.

‘Sorry, mate. We broke down an’ bin trying ta git it off the road when youse come along too fast,’ answered one of the men, cleverly shifting the onus of responsibility on to Petri.

Petri didn’t rise to the bait. ‘Well, I don’t see much moving. Anyway, which way are you heading?’

‘We from Cundeelee. Trying ta git back there from Kal when the bloody ute broke down.’

Although he’d never been there Petri was vaguely familiar with the existence of the Cundeelee Mission north of the main east-west Trans-Australia Railway line.

‘Okay. You want me to have a look?’

‘Yeah, thanks mate. But reckon it’s serious.’

Petri, although competent at carrying out minor repairs, was no expert. He looked under the open bonnet. With the amount of oil that had seeped into the sand, the smell of burnt grease and the apparent crack in the head, Petri knew it would be nigh on impossible to get the utility going again. The radiator cap was off and there was no water in the radiator.

He looked up, ‘Too bloody right, mate! It is serious. This ute isn’t going anywhere.’

‘Can youse give us a lift?’

Petri did a quick mental calculation. He was about a hundred kilometres from the mission, in the opposite direction to Kalgoorlie. It would be at least two hours to the mission, and then about the same to get back to where he was. By then it would be dark and he still had to find a suitable campsite.

‘There’s no way I can fit all of you in my Tojo, too many.’ He looked around the dejected group of ten. ‘Anyway I’m heading the other way. To Kal.’

‘Yeah, okay. Thanks anyway.’

Petri went back to the Toyota and stopped at the open door. It seemed mean to leave them stranded out there. There was little likelihood of another vehicle coming along for ages.

He turned back to the men. ‘Alright, I reckon I could take a couple of you blokes back to Cundeelee to get help and you’re sure going to need a helluva lot of help with that heap of crap you’ve been driving.’

There was no immediate response. The men started talking amongst themselves while Petri waited for a reply, wondering if they’d even heard what he thought was a pretty generous offer. Then two of the men stepped out of the group. One said, ‘I’m Jimmy. Me an’ Tommy’ll come with ya. Thanks mate.’

Petri put the maps lying on the passenger seat into a box on the back of the utility to make room. The two men squeezed in and he started the engine. With a wave to the rest of the group he did a U-turn in the sand and headed east.

Conversation in the cabin was not easy at the best of times because of engine noise but the two men said little in response to questions. Petri had to say, ‘Excuse me, what was that?’ so many times because of the men’s strong accents that eventually he just drove without speaking and his passengers likewise remained silent.

When they arrived, Petri was surprised at the size of the place. In conversation with some of the men he discovered that the settlement had a school, small hospital and acted as a centre for many of the local people, displaced by activities of farming, mining and new laws of land ownership. One of the older men explained that there were people there from many different groups and he described them as ‘People of the Spinifex’, coming from different remote desert areas and bringing with them a variety of dialects and languages. Some spoke a little English but most only their local dialect. Quite commonly communication was by way of sign language or dance.

As it turned out, the whole episode was serendipitous as Petri was able to meet up with some of the people who regarded the land on which he was working as their responsibility. He was introduced to some elders of the Wankatja people and this gave him an opportunity to explain why he was there and what he was doing. Even though it was designated ‘Crown Land,’ Petri knew that these elders regarded themselves its custodians. When they asked what he was doing there he explained his regional exploration program. The older men he met were interested but warned him there were places sacred to them and he should avoid going there. Petri asked for permission to camp nearby and meet again for more detailed discussions in the morning. Knowing which areas to avoid would be useful information for him, not to mention an important courtesy. The men agreed to his request.

When Petri arrived back at the Mission early the next morning the meeting was already in progress. He waved and received a wave in return but no invitation to join the discussions. A shady spot beckoned so he sat down and waited. As time passed he found himself scratching patterns in the sand, doodling in his notebook and thinking that he should be on his way. He stood, walked around impatiently and returned to his shady spot. He was almost ready to pack up and leave when one of the older men came across and invited him to join the circle.

The meeting differed from those Petri was accustomed to in his dealings with AGO or Spex. Here, it was not a case of the majority rules, or a decision by the senior management, but a case of finding a consensus. The group explained again to Petri that there was no objection to his working in their land but there were some places he should not go because they were of special significance.

Petri asked, ‘How will I know where they are?’

One of the men, grey haired and with dark eyes set in a heavily wrinkled face, asked to see his maps. Around him crowded several others, all of indeterminate age but clearly older than the young men who stayed at a respectful distance. Petri unrolled his maps and placed a collection of the aerial photographs on the ground.

‘Okay. If you can show me on the map where I must not sample then I’ll avoid those areas.’ He pointed to the Mission. ‘This is where we are now, so’s you can get your bearings.’

The old man shook his head, ‘No, some places secret. You show me your places and I say yes or no.’

‘Oh! That’s not quite so easy. Some places I haven’t fixed yet. It depends on how accessible they are. Here, where the black numbers are, is where I’ve already collected.’

The elder looked at the map.

Petri continued. ‘I’m sorry if any of them are in places I shouldn’t have gone, but I didn’t think. Or know.’

After a study of the map, comparing it with the photographs, the elder said, ‘No. It’s okay. No problem.’

‘What about the places I still want to go? I’ve marked them with these little circles but the actual sample might be taken further up or down-stream. Depends on how easy to get there.’

This time several men looked at the map, pointing and talking among themselves. Eventually the same man nodded and said, ‘No problems.’

‘Great, that makes it easier.’

‘But this one,’ the old man pointed to one of the circles, ‘Ya take care. Steep bank to creek an’ could roll. Better come in ‘ere.’ He traced an alternate route for easier access.

‘Thanks, I’ll do that. I appreciate your help.’

One collection point was close to an area, which, on the aerial photographs, looked like another small settlement. According to the maps it was in the nature reserve and there should be no agricultural activity there.

Petri queried this and Tommy told him. ‘It’s very old place, long time ‘go, work for CSIRO.’ Everyone knew the acronym for the Commonwealth Scientific and Industrial Research Organisation. Tommy went on. ‘White fellas there now. Keepin’ bees. Makin’ honey. We don’ go there. Big fence all round. Them fellas chase us. One has gun so we stays away. Only once, ‘bout two years ago, his wife had baby an’ he come an’ he ask Jenny for help.’ He pointed to a group of women sitting apart from the men. ‘Jenny don’ talk much, she’s like speckled bird, don’ b’long, but good for babies comin’.’

It was close to midday by the time all of the sampling sites had been dealt with and the areas approved. Petri rolled up his maps and stacked the photographs, thanked the group for their help and, with handshakes all round, got back into his Toyota.

‘Ya wanna stay for lunch?’ asked Tommy.

‘Thanks, but I really need to get moving. Many thanks for all your help.’

‘No worries. Thanks for ya helpin’ for us.’

Resuming his delayed journey to Kalgoorlie. On the way back he passed the yellow Holden ute being towed towards Cundeelee by an equally battered looking brown Holden ute. They passed each other with just a friendly wave.