he went to throw the card underneath but for reasons he didn’t know, except it seemed the respectful thing to do, tucked it instead, into what was left of his shirt pocket.
If it was going to be home for the moment, Roy decided he needed to explore every part of the landscape. He had only ever known the warmth of his own home. Four walls, his own bedroom, a comfy lounge and the love of his mum who cooked his breakfast each day. Now, as he wandered along the dirt road which wound through to the Bass Point car-park, he realised this would be his home.
With dust collecting on his shoes, his mood changed from feelings of deep hurt, to anger, along then deep depression. He was angry with the world and his parents. It wasn't his fault that he had ADD and it wasn't his fault he wasn't able to achieve A grades. It wasn't his fault he couldn't sleep. Though he realised it was his fault he drank and deceived his parents through drinking. He knew he was underage and he had learned through the programs at school what drinking and drugs did. Yet he had chosen to drink because it was a quick fix.
As he trudged along, he kicked the stones. With each one, he yelled into the bush
'I hate you. I hate me. I hate the world. I hate that I did this. I hate that dad kicked me out. I just hate.'
Roy stopped occasionally to sit by the side of the road and cry. Fine particles of dust were thrust into his space as impatient P-Platers raced past and he covered his face each time, yelling at them too.
'Idiots, can't you see me here!'
Eventually, he arrived in the car-park area where he knew it would soon be filled with tourists and divers and found a rock out on the furthest point of Bass Point to sit on. As he looked out onto the ocean, his mind was blank. Away from peering eyes, Roy watched as the waves rolled in, feeling as though each were like a tide of emotion washing over him. He placed his backpack on the rock, took off his shoes and carefully climbed over the boulders, down to a space where he could slip in. Just as he was almost level with the water, Roy heard someone scream out;
'Don't! It's too dangerous there to go swimming. You have to go around to Bushranger's Bay if you want to swim!'
It startled Roy and he jumped back up onto higher ground. If he wanted to take his own life, it wasn't meant for this moment and he shook himself, feeling a sense of relief.
Roy wandered back as far as he could along the edge of the coastline, climbing over boulders and occasionally slipping into the rock-pools which supported marine life as they waited for the high tide to take them back into the ocean. Intermittently, he stopped, bending down to touch one of the periwinkles or anemones on the edges. He admired how they survived the wave of time as they waited until their thirst was quenched by the salty waters when finally, they were washed back in.
In the end, he reached the Archway just south of Bushranger's Bay. Running at right angles to the shoreline, it was impressive at three to five metres in height and gave way to a cave.
His mind still feeling broken, Roy wandered back to the shelter under the stairs as darkness began to close in. He tried to process his parent’s decision and the predicament he found himself in. Tired and bereft of emotion, he curled into a ball under and feel asleep as the sounds of the night began to lull him to sleep. For now, the stairs were enough and he felt safe.
Chapter Two - The Gang
The stairs seemed to provide a haven for Roy. No one seemed to notice him there, tucked into the hillside, where bottlebrush grew wild and hid him easily. Though he ventured back to the gravelled beach each day, as he closed his eyes at night, Roy could hear the roar of the ocean waves as they washed over the rock platform and he'd smell the salty air, feeling a comfort. Even the bush flowers which protected the entrance, reminded him of his mum’s native garden.
The littoral rainforest of Bass Point Reserve had a diverse, unique natural landscape and its closed forest, influenced by the marine environment which surrounded it, somehow survived, in the harshest of conditions.
The area had been named after George Bass who explored the Illawarra area in 1791. It has also been mentioned in Captain James Cook’s journals as he sailed past the region in 1770. Some say, if he’d landed, it would have been his first in Australia before Botany Bay. Archaeological evidence indicated that Aboriginal people occupied Bass Point Reserve for some 20,000 years prior to the arrival of European settlers where shell middens over six thousand years old were found. (2)
After two weeks sheltering in the harsh terrain, Roy began to wander further from the safety of the stairs. It was coming up to winter and most of the campers didn’t stay in the rough camp at the Bay during this season, so there were fewer people around.
Without the sounds of family and kids, Roy began to feel more isolated and lonely. The food supplies his mum had packed were running low and though he’d tried to ration what there was, knew that unless he found another source, he’d go hungry.
Roy knew when he first sought shelter in the area that Bass Point Reserve also concealed a teenage gang. He’d heard about a group of teenage kids who hung out together, surfed Cowries and The Shallows, and lived in nearby bush. He’d seen them wandering around on occasions and stayed hidden, observing their routine. The gang seemed to sleep until late morning, so Roy would venture out during these periods, down to the point where tourists strolled, and read about the history of the shipwrecks. He almost knew the plaque by heart and could almost recite it word for word.
The Cities Service Boston had sunk there during wartime. Roy read that the ship was cruising up the coastline and decided to hug the shore to avoid submarine attacks. Due to cyclonic winds and high seas, the ship ran aground at Bass Point.
The nearby Six Marine Gun Battalion has assisted in saving some of the crew, though many lives were still lost. He also read about another ship called the Bertha had been shipwrecked, along with several others, in the water which surrounded the point. Although the Bertha hadn’t been found, divers often snorkelled the area, looking for marine-life and signs of the wreckage.
Roy often pretended to be one of the kids of the tourists and would tag along, hanging back so as not to be noticed. Increasingly, he was looking like a runaway as dirtied clothes and smell gave away his real persona and eventually one of the members of the gang caught on.
That night, he was woken violently as the group surrounded him, intimidating, while the leader emptied the contents of his bag onto the ground. Roy didn’t resist as two members pinned him down and the leader rummaged through, mocking its contents.
‘Oh look, boys, here’s a blankie. And an apple.’
The leader took a bite and threw it to one of the others.
‘Oh, and look at this, a teddy, how cute.'
The gang members laughed and mocked him as Roy watched through gritted teeth. His mum had packed a few things to remind him of home but now they lay bare in front of him, as though it was his whole life.
As he held the bear up and shook it violently, the leader laughed as the stash of what cash he had left fell from a hole in the bottom where he’d pulled away a few stitches and stuffed the notes inside.
'Oh looky here, what have we found?'
Throwing the bear at Roy, after scooping out the contents, the leader snickered as he stuffed the money in his pocket.
'This is down payment on your life, sucker. You can either join us and get some paid back, or we'll come here every night and beat you to a pulp. Take your choice.’
He threw the bag back to Roy, who gathered the few contents and stashed them back inside. Devoid of dignity and most everything else, the leader then waited while he made the choice.
‘It’s the only way,’ he said. ‘If you want to survive, you have to join us.’
Reluctant to give into their demands, Roy shook his head and the leader laughed.
‘That’s OK. Most of ‘em say that. But you’ll eventually give in.’