Rebecca Watson

One vivid memory I have was of skiing in Scotland. At the tender age of 12, I was lost in blizzard conditions, with all my peer’s miles up the slopes. The feeling of panic and total isolation is one we are not likely to forget at this age. After what seemed like an eternity, I found the car park where all the group buses were located. This did not help the situation as I still had to nd the right bus among many. The feeling of panic and isolation did not deter me from skiing again, but I did grow up in that short afternoon and developed an understanding of perseverance in relative isolation.

I travelled to Australia via Asia in 1995 as a graduate from university. At 21 I knew very little of the real world, but I did have endless ideas and saw every apparent ‘opportunity’ as a real and worthwhile occupation. This took me hawking in Melbourne, working on the Coconut Shys at county shows in Victoria, jillerooing and agronomy west of Moree. By July 2003, I gained Australian citizenship. This was an achievement I am deeply proud of and the freedom I have felt since then, I cannot describe. Between these ‘opportunities’, I returned to Scotland and secured some work and another degree. There was never a plan. I am an opportunist. Doors open and I walk in, often without hesitation and on a gut feeling.

By early 2004, I was back at the nest in Scotland. My batteries were fully charged and I felt ready to take on the world again. A few property searches on the internet took me to Glenwood. With no idea whatsoever where Gympie was, only that a friend used to go to the country music muster regularly and held it in pretty high regard, I decided to embark on property buying. Situated only two and a half hours north of Brisbane, I thought I could sell easily if it did not work out. This opportunity was too good to pass up. I ew back to Australia and bought the little farm known to me as ‘Becky’ as advertised, but known to everyone else in the area as ‘Curtis Park’.

When I returned to Australia in April 2004, I found work assisting a strawberry agronomist near Caloundra. I was working 12 hour days and became the fittest I have ever been. This prepared me for what was to come. It enabled me to think quickly and clearly during the negotiation period and to have endless energy for the job of moving and settling in. Two weeks after the move, I came a cropper – falling off a horse, leaving me on crutches for six weeks and convalescing for many more.

Luckily my dad helped me through this time, spending three months over here. He clearly knew I would struggle with some of the details of running a property. He taught me basics in fencing, vehicle maintenance and stock management. It was like a crash course in farming. I came from a farm in Scotland so, although it was daunting to do it on my own, the requirements were not completely unfamiliar.

Anyone considering undertaking farming as an occupation, let me suggest that if opting for this as a lifestyle choice you would be wise to gain some experience in running a property on a farming budget! We were both happy as could be for many months. When he finally had to go home, I was devastated and very lonely. Quite suddenly the reality of being alone in a strange environment set in. The time after he left was a very low time for me until my brother visited four months later.

During my time here in Glenwood, I was incredibly lonely for the first couple of years. I knew no one when I arrived here and my insecurities manifested. The uncertainty when I walked down the street, not recognising a single face, made me suspicious of everyone. This was never a characteristic of mine. I was known for talking to everyone and anyone. But this was different. Privacy gave me some degree of security. As great as the temptation was to move on, even to sell and try ‘Plan B’ (I always have a Plan B!), I thought it was a defeatist attitude to simply give up on the basis of loneliness. There must surely be a reason why I flew to the other side of the world to buy a farm, in my name, in a completely alien environment.

Through all this uncertainty, there were key, defining moments where people offered words of encouragement and support. I have never forgotten those words and it gave me great comfort. I have wonderful neighbours and they have been through everything with me; I worked with a crew in Gympie who kept me relatively sane and I must have been the only person in the universe who looked forward to Monday mornings!

I was and still am always thankful for their great company and good humour. I had a friend who would ring at least twice a week and of course, my family. They had the hardest job. I have no idea how di cult it must have been for a mother to hear a daughter in distress, constantly ringing for comfort. I was and still am, so thankful. She was always there, day or night. One needs this no matter how resilient or independent you think you are. Later on, in my experience in Glenwood, I met Ken and Norma. They have been an incredible support and offered comfort and friendship. Not wanting to burden others I found solace by reading the ‘Book of Proverbs’ of the Old Testament which offered me definitive actions; there was no ambiguity and no opportunity for interpretation. In the afternoon when the light was good, I would go for a long walk, lie on my back and look at the passing clouds or the cattle grazing.

On reflection, I sometimes consider the solitude was not that bad. However, leave me here alone in the evening with my own heartbeat and the dog breathing heavily, the fridge buzzing and a dripping tap and I am completely lost, absorbed in woeful loneliness. I have discovered my tolerance for such a situation. I know I cannot survive on my own indefinitely and I know my weaknesses.