Tanya Heaslip - Beyond Alice

Praise for Alice to Prague

Tanya writes beautifully and honestly about the highs and lows of her expat life A thoroughly enjoyable read, especially for all of us who dream of living in another country. Good Reading

A wonderful storyI highly recommend it to anyone who enjoys an autobiography with heart and history: Alice to Prague has it all. Glam Adelaide

Full of bright, changeable energies and emotions. The Newtown Review of Books

Engaging and inspiring a truthful, emotional and meaningful memoir. Mrs Bs Book Reviews

Praise for An Alice Girl

Tanyas story glows with love for family and the rugged, wild outback land that never leaves her heart. Toni Tapp Coutts

refreshing honesty and humour a fascinating and moving story of an unusual childhood. Canberra Weekly

A gentle memoir about a tough but enjoyable childhood it will resonate with all those who have grown up in rural and remote Australia, and be an education for those who havent. R.M. Williams Magazine

An Alice Girl is written with love for the land and the people of outback Australia, and it is a fascinating account of a childhood most city-bred Australians could hardly imagine. The Newtown Review of Books

Tanyas moving story brims with extraordinary confidence and optimism and is nothing short of inspirational. The Chronicle

Tanya Heaslip was raised on a cattle station in Central Australia during the 1960s and 70s and learnt about the outside world through the Correspondence School, School of the Air and storybooks. She spent many hours dreaming of the overseas lands depicted in those stories. Her life changed at age twelve when she was sent 1600 kilometres away from her outback home to boarding school. Tanya went on to become a lawyer but never stopped dreaming. In between practising law, she travelled to many of those lands. She has since written about her love affair with Prague in Alice to Prague (2019), and about growing up in the outback in An Alice Girl (2020). Tanya lives back in Alice Springs with her husband. She is President of the NT Writers Centre.

Website: www.tanyaheaslip.com.au

Facebook:

Instagram:

First published in 2021

Copyright 2021 Tanya Heaslip

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording or by any information storage and retrieval system, without prior permission in writing from the publisher. The Australian Copyright Act 1968 (the Act) allows a maximum of one chapter or 10 per cent of this book, whichever is the greater, to be photocopied by any educational institution for its educational purposes provided that the educational institution (or body that administers it) has given a remuneration notice to the Copyright Agency (Australia) under the Act.

Allen & Unwin

83 Alexander Street

Crows Nest NSW 2065

Australia

Phone:(61 2) 8425 0100

Email:

Web:www.allenandunwin.com

ISBN 978 1 76087 965 5

eISBN 978 1 76106 174 5

Set by Midland Typesetters, Australia

Cover design: Nada Backovic

Cover photos: Tanya on Blaze, 1979 (front); Tanya off to MLC, 1975 (back); iStock (background)

To darling Mumfor everything

Late March 1975

It was a hot March morning in Alice Springs.

By 8.30 a.m. the sun had already spread its tentacles far and wide across the baked landscape, turning the light hard and white, and causing the leaves on the old gum trees surrounding the Royal Flying Doctor Service buildings to droop, as though exhausted by the heat to come.

Merrilyn McIver brushed the flies and dust away as she entered the RFDS. She sighed with relief as the big fan inside swung low and slow from the ceiling, moving the air above her.

Merrilyn was one of the radio operators who transmitted news, telegrams and advice out to the remote communities and cattle stations. Starting out as a glamorous Ansett air hostess, shed fallen in love with Alice on her travels and was snapped up for the radio operator role when the RFDS learnt of her flying workand, importantly, her knowledge of the aviation alphabet.

Alpha, Bravo, Charlie, Delta shed recited to them, and that was it.

The operators role was to preside over traffic skedsthe two hours of morning telegram exchanges that ran from 9 until 11 a.m. People called in to the operator with their telegrams to send, and the operator read out the telegrams the RFDS had received. It was the main form of communication for everyone out bush, and a greatly anticipated time of day. There were afternoon traffic skeds as well, but mornings were always the busiest.

As Merrilyn headed towards the studio with her pile of yellow slips, another operator raced out the door behind her.

Weve got an emergency, he shouted. Bloke fell off his horse, 600 kilometres out to the west. Sounds like hes broken his back. Been on the ground for a long time now, so hes in a bad way. Im organising the RFDS plane and about to head to them. Good luck with Traffic this morning. Everyone on there will know whats happened.

Merrilyn nodded briskly. The RFDS was a busy place, with the Traffic studio on one side and Medical on the other, and these kinds of emergencies were common. She preferred her role in Traffic, as it involved interesting conversations and fewer traumas.

Most of the telegrams she dealt with were requests to and from the stock and station agents for more fuel, horse feed, swags, drums of flour, fencing wire and parts for bores that had broken down. Often requests were specific to truck tyre shops and for electrical goods, and during the mustering season there was a regular flow of instructions and updates to the trucking companies that drove hundreds of kilometres to transport cattle off to market. It kept everyone up to date with everyone elses lives and was fascinating to a city girl like Merrilyn.

This morning, however, she had received a telegram that she knew would undoubtedly cause pain. She had to adopt a professional approach to push it out of her mind and focus on the usual mornings work.

Sitting down in front of a bank of large wirelesses, she turned a couple of knobs, allowed the static to flood the studio, and then in her best and brightest voice clicked on her microphone and said, Good morning everyone, this is VJD with Mondays Traffic. Please call in if you have telegrams you wish to send. Over.

The voices of people from hundreds of kilometres away crashed through the static, shouting out their call signs, while Merrilyn scribbled them down, checking the map above her that linked the call signs to station names. The louder ones from Aboriginal communities or mining camps usually won out; the weaker signals were last, and she felt bad for those who struggled to be heard and had to wait up to two hours for their turn.

Slowly and methodically she worked her way through the call signs. As people read out their telegrams, she typed them up on yellow slips of paper before reading them back for accuracy and giving the price. Each word had a cost, so telegrams were usually as short as possible. Then she read out telegrams the RFDS had received that morning for each of those call signs. The morning wore on and she smoked cigarettes between calls, fighting off the anxiety building inside her.

Towards the end of the list, Merrilyn reached the telegram that was causing the anxiety. She couldnt put it off any longer.