Morwell Cricket Club



mcch17THE BEMM RIVER END OF SEASON TRIP AWAY BY Barry Mathieson. WHERE LEGENDS ARE POURED:A history of Morwell Cricket Club would not be complete without mention of the Players trip way to Bemm River. This tiny fishing town is an ideal place to get way from it all and relax in peace and quiet- that is until the yellow and black mini bus laden with Morwell cricketers arrives then the place really arcs up.The story of the "Bemm" goes back nearly two decades when a select group of seasoned cricketers decided that some light relief was required following another harrowing season with the bat and ball. Hence the birth of a club tradition-this trip away has continued ever since and is first priority when planning the club's social calendar. The Bemm pioneers who have a lot to answer for were Alan "Captain Kaos" Giddens, his brother Chris, Con Doherty, Col Luxford, John Rutherford, Norm "Bimbo" Trembath, Colin "Mouse" Mahoney, Ken McDonald, Ian "Red" Robinson, Allan "Big M" Mathieson, Joe Langley, the late Jack Dykes, Norm "Bud" Abbott and Ray "Grub" Grieve. The first trip at the Bemm was spent at the "Felleews Caravan Park" and apart from lifting the cabins off their stumps it was relatively incident free.The stories emanating from the Bemm trip are endless and obviously not all can be told here as they could in themselves fill a book. However, what can be said is that since the first trip there has never been a "crossword" or a 'flirt with skirt' to dampen spirits - all in all its about mateship, a few laughs, a few beers, a hand of cards, baked beans on toast and a few sore heads.In the early years the trip to Bemm was a genuine fishing trip and very well organised with a convoy of cars and boats in tow leaving the industrial background of Morwell heading for peace, tranquility and fish. Many an illness or ailment was caught on the Friday preventing club members from going to work - yet by Saturday morning recovery was remarkable as they were sitting by the bar at Bemm.One can still picture Mouses' "green machine" steaming up the highway with an experienced fishing crew on board and the boat flying mid air behind him. Not far behind would be Bud and his more enthusiastic fishing crew who'd be in a little bit better nick to cope with the early morning Saturday rise.The cars and boats have since given way to the mini-bus yet old habits die hard, riki-tiki still occupies the time on the bus and as in the past we still call in at the Kalimna Hotel/Motel on our way to Bemm. This is usually our last decent meal before the onslaught and many a cricketer has "petered" out here. A couple of hours here and then its on our way- non stop- well maybe once or twice to the call of nature. mcch17Places we stayed at back in the old days were the Cos Nook andparticularly the "farm house", an enormous place with umpteen bedrooms. This place amongst other things will always be remembered for the case of the lost teeth, Luxa's duck being washed up on the shore, the Mahoneys exhilarating coaches address, Horrible receiving a swimming lesson from Grub and Jug, Jack's commentary from the window, unlimited pontoon and the long walk to the pub. In more recent times we've been made more welcome at Bev and Graeme's Alcheringa Lodge which is closer to the boat ramp....well its closer to the pub. Upon checking in the guys are allocated cabins which is a luck of the draw situation and not prearranged. In these cabins we've managed to bungy jump off the top bunk, entertained samoids, mixed baked beans with all sorts of things to make a meal, which makes the saying "feed the man meat" pale into insignificance, repair toasters whilst their still on, been locked out and locked in and painted the bedroom walls.Once the bags are unpacked and all the clothes hung up its off to the local where we have been hosted by many a patron over the years-they've been as different as the standard of our pool games starting at 11.00 am and finishing at 11.00 pm. The majority have really looked after us and one can still remember Dan's face when the cue ball cleared the bar and rattled underneath his feet. In this establishment we've spilt more Kahlua than drunk, had a permanent booking on the outside "John", given the freezer a hiding from the inside and outside, played the spoons, had fish in our beers and entertained the locals.Once the pub closes its back to the cabins in a military style march with cards on our mind. These games usually go all night with pontoon the preferred game or until the dealer decides to name the game. Who'd ever forget the shrapnel hitting the floor, card shark Darren and his worldy words of advice the old bluffs, the stacking or unstacking of money and above all snoring.Years ago Saturday morning meant an early but seedy rise in order to catch the big one-in spite of a fading memory one can still see J R getting amongst them, Joe shirt fronting a stunned mullet, the engine crank sinking to the lakes bottom and three boats crammed in ten foot of space up against the bank pulling in fish after fish. mcch17These days Saturday mornings are less energetic unless its voting day of course. We usually buy a few heart starters then venture on up to the Bellbird- thats the pub on the highway where the boat was heaved away-here Ralph and Frances are tremdenous publicans who go out of their way to make us feel welcome. Most of the day is spent here and there's not much we haven't done- we've provided a doorman, put a fortune through the jukebox, looked after the menu, collected bulk thongs, swapped jumpers, played pool in various ways, booked a room so we can "drink the place dry", swapped notes for coins and backed horses without a TAB. Our trump card has always been "Biscuit" who has won the hearts of the locals by singing and strumming his way through many golden oldies. The biggest problem Trevor had was keeping up with the drinks the locals were shouting him -in never say die fashion Trevor would play till he dropped.The return trip to the Bemm is usually a sing a long featuring renditions of the Beatles, J O'K, the Big O and anyone else you can remember. Its a call in at the Bemm for a nightcap, that is unless the younger ones haven't fixed you up by then, a few kahluas and adjourn to the cabins for a hand of more cards.Sunday morning used to be b-b-q at the late Mick (and Glad) Robinson's place then off to Orbost Football Club for Sunday sippers, with Mouses' mate "Steely". In years gone by we've done pretty well out of their raffles and it was nothing to come home with a bus load of vegies (out of the garden type), seafood, cash and a new nickname. Unfortunately in more recent times this part of the trip has ceased as the demand for sippers has fallen away-nevertheless a shot of "op" courtesy of the local vet and alls well. Next stop is Lakes Entrance for some lunch which varies from fish "n" chips, pizzas lasagne etc. It is here that the ding-a-ling award winner of the trip gets the honour of wearing his cowbell through the middle of Lakes. Whilst here we've performed emergency surgery on a seagull, lost thongs to out going tides and spent our remaining money on seafood so we can show all and sundry that we caught some fish. Leaving Lakes behind us it's just one more stop at the Nicholsonpub for a tracker then homewood bound to deliver a worse for wear bunch of cricketers to their waiting beds. One mother, wife or girlfriend always has a pleasant surprise when her fledgling arrives and he is adorned by one yellow cow bell. Over the years this prestigious award has been awarded to some distinguished members namely John Rutherford (multiple winner), Big M (multi winner), Little M, Roly, Mouse (multi winner) the Pollock brothers (Jamie and Scott), Marcus Luxford, the late Jack Dykes Kaos Giddens, Ron Mahone, Bill Mudie and of course Mero. The runner up to this award is the coveted "screw up" award and it to has been shared by many including some who didn't even make the trip. mcch17Other trip highlights over the years that readily come to mind are Norm Trembath's haunting stories, Mouse and Kaos jumping off the bus to jog the short distance to the pub to arrive an hour later, Garthy and Kerry anxiously tripping around the Bemm looking for the footy ground, Joe's hilarious poems written especially for the trip, Coff falling through the jetty, Greg Trembath falling off the jetty waders and all, Merv's library, Ronnie Wearmouth coming along on our trip and Ronnies ten dollar note.The trip to Bemm been has graced by many a member with outstanding service awards going to the Giddens brothers, Coff, Pete Smith and Sparrow, who have seen more trips than any others. The only award Coff has not won within the club is the ding-a-ling and one admires him for avoiding it for so long however, one cannot help but think the Centenary Year could be his year. ................
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