These recollections were put together by Graham Thompson.
Arthur Boorer, John Sainsbury and I were the road openers in Arthur’s new Volvo 142S in the 1969 Southern Cross Rally. Things did not go to plan.
On the afternoon of Day 1 we holed the vulnerable petrol tank and retired to Kyogle for repairs.
On Day 2, when we arrived in the late afternoon at the start location in for the first special stage there were no officials. I was left there with the instructions to record each competitor’s arrival time on their road card and hold the cars in control while AB and JS checked out the stage. I guess the best part of an hour passed before the Volvo returned, by which time I probably had 20+ competitors queued up. AB said there were no finish control officials at the end of the stage either, so he had left JS there to do that duty. He instructed me to give him 10 minutes start and then to send out the field at 2 minute intervals. This proceeded smoothly and I then climbed into the rear seat of the sweep car, a fast back VW1600, kindly provided by a local used car dealer. At the end of the stage JS joined me in the VW. AB continued in his road opening duties, I guess solo.
We continued throughout the night and about dawn, on what was probably the final stage, the driver dozed off and we ran off the road, the bump waking us all up to be shocked to see the VW was sliding over a steepening grass slope into a vast valley. By good chance there was a single stump about 30 metres along our path which stopped the car, at the expense of the bumper bar. Now fully awake and with 3 pushers and VW legendary traction we struggled back to the road and continued to the final control. The officials had kept warm with a fire in an old hollow tree about 8 metres tall and this had ultimately developed into a roaring furnace. The VW stopped about 6 metres away and the co-driver got out to collect the paperwork, the driver remaining behind the wheel, the engine idling. A minute later I heard a loud crack and looking up through the VW’s rear glass, I see the tree starting to fall … in our direction! I shout to the driver “go,go,go”. He hesitated for a moment then my urgency must have registered and he dropped the clutch, the VW taking one kangaroo hop forward before stalling. At that same moment the tree arrived, almost taking off the rear bumper and exploding into a wall of flying embers. The driver’s restart and acceleration away took a split second. I don’t know whether they were able to continue next day.
On the final night, JS and I rejoined AB in the Volvo on a very wet, albeit not rainy night. We opened a couple of stages (I’m guessing but it was fully dark), but after going down a steep hill, AB could not get the Volvo up the following ascent. He then tried to return but we were stuck at the bottom. AB was understandably looking after his new car and was not being particularly aggressive in his efforts so we waited for the first car which turned out to be the Morris 1800 of Andrew Cowan and Dave Johnson. They clattered to a halt as we waved them down and were blocking the road, Andrew being quite pleased that the stage was neutralized as he could change the tattered front tyre. Barry Ferguson arrived in the Monaro a minute later, followed by John Keran and Lindsay Adcock in their Volvo 142S. AB asked JK whether he might use his skills to attempt get the Volvo to the top of the hill. This he did and much to AB’s horror, attacked the slope at 6000rpm with Lindsay jumping up and down in his mud caked clod-hoppers in the Volvo’s formerly pristine boot. JK was successful and we plodded up the hill and climbed aboard to lead the field out.
We had only travelled a short distance on this sloppy road when the road went left and the Volvo slid into the berm but we continued. A few hundred metres later we stopped at a wire gate which had to be opened and set aside. This was my job as I was front seat passenger on this leg and I had only just pulled my seatbelt on when AB accelerated, the road went right on a slight downhill and the Volvo didn’t, rolling gently into the trees. The car was on its left side, just below road level and gently rocking in the branches, and we knew were we in trouble with the competitors barely a couple of minutes behind, with the likelihood of sliding right on top of us. AB opened his door like a hatch and clambered all over me getting out, followed by JS. We fully expected the first competitors by now but minutes passed without their arrival. We could hear some noises back up the road and trudged back to where we had first bounced off the berm to find the Morris 1800 over the side and half a dozen crews organizing themselves to pull it out. With a tow rope on the Monaro and many pushers, the Morris was extracted, and we returned to guard the Volvo. The entire field tippy-toed past and I recall the surface was so slippery that the rear wheels on Bob Watson’s Renault 16TS were not turning, just sliding along.
There was no sweep car so we spent the rest of the night walking out, finally reaching a timber mill which was just coming to life and organizing one of their trucks to pull out the Volvo, which it did successfully. Fortunately damage to the car was superficial, but that was the end of our duties for the rally.