Jerome Murif - From Ocean To Ocean: Across Australia on a Bicycle
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From Ocean To Ocean: Across Australia on a Bicycle: summary, description and annotation
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A captivating account of the first South to North crossing of the Australian continent on a bicycle, in 1897.Then the bicycle, loaded now for the expedition, was lifted downstairs; I shook hands with the landlady, told her I might not be back for tea and not to keep it waiting, and quietly pedalled away...This is how, without any sponsor, and almost no one knowing about his plan, that Jerome Murif departed from Adelaide with the firm intent to reach Port Darwin, more than 3,000 km (1,900 miles) away, and be the first to cross the Australian continent by bicycle from South to North.He did so with very little food and gear, and at a time when roads were non-existent, on a bicycle that didnt have gears or brakes.Far from the speed record attempts, Murif did his crossing at a leisurely pace, even taking time to tour the Alice Springs region on the way.This account of his journey, first published in 1897, is based heavily on his own diary; it is full of humor and captivating from the first word to the last.
Jerome Murif: author's other books
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Jerome Murif
Jim Hendrickson
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Transcriber's Note:
Obvious typographic errors have been corrected.
Obvious typographic errors have been corrected.
George Robertson Booksellers
George Robertson & Co.
BOOKSELLERS,
Publishers, and Commercial Stationers.
Decoration
ACCOUNT BOOK MANUFACTURERS.
Decoration
BookbindersLetterpress Printers.
Paper RulersEngravers
LithographersDie Sinkers
Embossers.
Paper RulersEngravers
LithographersDie Sinkers
Embossers.
Decoration
MELBOURNE
384-390 Little Collins Street.
384-390 Little Collins Street.
SYDNEY
361-363 George Street.
361-363 George Street.
ADELAIDE
Freeman Street.
Freeman Street.
BRISBANE
Elizabeth Street.
Elizabeth Street.
AND
LONDON
17 Warwick Square. Paternoster Row, E.C.
LONDON
17 Warwick Square. Paternoster Row, E.C.
Dunlop Tyres and Dunlop Welch Rims
Title Page
FROM OCEAN TO OCEAN
ACROSS A CONTINENT ON
A BICYCLE.
A BICYCLE.
AN ACCOUNT OF A SOLITARY RIDE FROM ADELAIDE
TO PORT DARWIN
TO PORT DARWIN
BY
JEROME J. MURIF.
George Robertson & Co.,
MELBOURNE, SYDNEY, ADELAIDE, BRISBANE
AND LONDON.
1897.
MELBOURNE, SYDNEY, ADELAIDE, BRISBANE
AND LONDON.
1897.
GEORGE ROBERTSON AND CO.
PRINTERS
MELBOURNE, SYDNEY, ADELAIDE, BRISBANE
AND LONDON
PRINTERS
MELBOURNE, SYDNEY, ADELAIDE, BRISBANE
AND LONDON
FROM OCEAN TO OCEAN.
A vague longing to do something first flattered, then irritated, then oppressed me. In vain I tried to argumentatively brush it aside, to pooh-pooh it, to laugh it out of countenance. My arsenal of trite well-worn sayings (so commonly the accompaniment of a weak argument) was ransacked for ammunition to once and for all lay out this absurd restlessness. For instance, I resolutely endeavored to persuade myself that of course the maxim was true that "There is nothing new under the sun." I argued that that was as absolutely convincing in my case as a Maxim is in some others. Then I went to sleep, dreamily reflecting that that was settled, anyway. In the morning, I was witness that one saying, at any rate, was true: I had convinced myself against my will, and was in reality still longing for that formless something.
So I made a bargain with myself to strive to give my longing a local habitation and a nameto set about discovering something to be done that no man had yet even dared.
In my quest of a world to conquer, I bought a book of "Human Records" (which is not to be confounded with "A Human Document") so I might know what spheres had been already vanquished. There inscribed were the names of the heroes who had sucked the most eggs, eaten the most dumplings, drunk the most liquor, chopped the biggest tree, drawn the most teeth, vaulted the most horses.
I passed these dizzy heights with a sigh. They were far above me. Besides, cui bono?
And then, my mind revolving many things, speeding from one to the other, passing as the bicycle-scorcher passes the mile posts on the road-side
Of course! Why, what else could it be?
To cross Australia on a bicycle, piercing the very heart of a continent, facing dangers, some known and more unknownit was the very thing.
Now, looking back upon the task accomplished, I confess, with becoming humility, that it was not from a splendid devotion to Science; it was neither to observe an eclipse of the sun or the moon nor to scour unknown country for the elusive diprotodon; not even in the interests of British Commerce (as represented by Jones's factory or Brown's warehouse), but simply to gratify this craving to do something before considerate people dropped me out of sight and out of mindit was simply for this that I resolved there and then to pedal from Ocean to Ocean on a bicycle.
And when, a month after my task was completed, the Jubilee honors were announced I did not search the list in the expectation of finding myself down for even a peerage.
* * * *
The something had at any rate taken shape at last; in the first blush of delight the accomplishment seemed a trifling matter of detail. To do, and to be the first to attempt the doing of it, was my object. If that object was to be attained easily, all well. If, on the other hand, there were many dangers and they were safely overcome, then better still.
All I now lay claim to having done was the little all I had the desire to do: to travel a bicycle over every inch of the ground between Glenelg, on a gulf of the Southern Ocean, and Port Darwin, on the Arafura sea, a portion of the Indian Oceanand to be the first to do it. In no sense of the word has my machine been conveyed for me; neither has any conveyance other than the bicycle with which I set out borne me at any time over any part of the journey.
Nevertheless in the fulfilment of my purpose I availed myself of whatever other aids offered. Thus I took full advantage of the hotels en route; and when, later on, the region of hotels being passedand these benevolent institutions are pitched marvellously far outI did not ride off into the scrub whenever I suspected that people were ahead of me on the track. Not even the thought that those persons might invite me to a meal daunted me. The proffer of a blanket at night had no terrors for me. And if in the morning my new-made friends could give me some fresh directions, checking my own and serving as a safeguard, I thought none the worse of them.
But we are not on the track yet. Not even in the dressing-room.
* * * *
As the first few to whom I in part confided my intention pooh-poohed the notion, I consulted further with no one; and as I was not in a position to pick up much information concerning the country to be traversed without disclosing plans which were never mentioned but to be laughed at or declared impracticable, I decided to go quietly at the first opportunity, and to be my own "guide, philosopher, and friend."
Still, I was not angry with those who chided me. In common, I fancy, with the majority of Australians, I knew but little of the northern part of the continent; and I honestly believed that the journey was one which it would be difficult to complete. They said impossible, I said difficultthat was all the difference.
Men who knew the country led me in fancy into the centre of the continent, broke my machine upon any one of the thousand unexpected dangers of the open, trackless desertand asked me to consider my helplessness.
Yes; the journey was formidable. It had no attractions for me if it was otherwise. I thanked my friends, began earnestly to regard the excursion in a serious light, and held my tongue.
I smile benevolently now as I look back upon myself of those days. The thing is done, it then remained to be done.
* * * *
Before this time, I had thought of securing a companion to share the venture; and I wasted a good deal of time and money seeking such a one.
The number of people who had the expedition in mind surprised meI met them constantly.
"Ah, yes, great idea! D'ye know I've been thinking about tackling it for some time?"
"Well, co'on."
Then there was an awkward pause.
Generally I had to see them about it in the morning. In the morning"Sorry, old fellow, awfully sorry, but can't manage to get away just now. Great idea, though, isn't it?"
One whom I came to know intimately (we were, and continue, excellent friends) was at first all eagerness to join. But he too gradually cooled off and reluctantly and half abashed, but finally, backed out.
And in his case, why?
Not because of the expense, nor through reading or hearing of treacherous blacks, of venomous snakes, of alligators and other interesting things we had so eagerly looked forward to throwing stones at. Not because of the certain hardships and probable perils to be encountered; the likelihood of being stricken with fever; the danger of getting bushed, and experiencing the terrors of thirst as well as the horrors of hunger (for we knew we could carry precious little of either water or food).
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