Monday morning was an early start. I was up while the house was still night-murky, finding breakfast and then sneaking out with my gear to meet the car outside. We drove to Broome airport and around to the smaller and then still-smaller planes. I’d swigged some water and travel pills earlier and surreptitiously took another ginger. I wasn’t nervous about the flying, just about arriving at schools feeling green. It was a pretty small plane -a Cessna 140 – seating four people including the pilot.
I was really happy that Sally was coming with me. Sally Eaton, (Deputy Manager of Broome library services) contacted me in January after ordering some books and seeing an article I did for Ozkids. That was while I was up at Varuna working in the sun-room on ideas for The Collector. Now, seven months later I was sitting in a tiny plane and racing up the runway. She’d asked in her first email – had I ever been to Broome and how did I like small planes? Good question, as it turns out!
Happily I loved the small plane. Or at least I loved the view. We flew north up the coast, at first over an orange landscape studded with tiny regular trees following the line of the sea. It was still. We’d had wind before and had wind later but that first leg was so calm. I saw my first tiny bushfires – inexplicable plumes of smoke, maybe just from burning off or a campfire. 
But later as we hopped from one landing strip to another we saw bigger and grander ones. They were incredible. As we skirted around they showed their faces to us. The light side, all benign white steam in the sunlight and then the other face, the one where the smoke lives in its own shadow, diabolical in dirty orange and brown – with the red flames glowing in the dark. We skirted these, quite high up, but still the cabin was laced with the fumes.
A pretty amazing sight.
On the approach to each town we circled around, seemingly on a wing-tip, to see the best approach to the little red earth strip. It was brilliant. The window filled with sea and beach. Sally and I looked for whales all the time but weren’t lucky enough to spot any. The landings were good – although increasingly hairy as the wind picked up and we had to come in flying at extreme slipped angles – to right our course just as the wheels touched and the low scrub finally gave us a break.
Over the day we visited One Arm Point, Lombadina and Beagle Bay. The first was easy – a car waiting for us at the strip, the teachers and kids ready to go. It was all-in with a range of ages and backgrounds. They were lovely. I talked about my story, the story of the stars and my imagination and longing for adventure. We talked about making books and making up characters. And, like I do with the kids back here, we ended up devising one of our own – One Arm the Pirate.
After an hour we were back at the plane and heading off to the next place. 
The wind had picked up and we were in the air for just a short time, which made for a lower and bumpier ride. I was rather glad to land. When we arrived the strip was deserted. We climbed out of the plane and I sat happily on the ground beneath the wing. The whole week was about 30 C and beautiful. And the wind – that all the locals complained about no end (I guess they need something to complain about…) made it perfect. Sally rang up the school, luckily having reception on the satellite phone, but got a message service. Eventually she got through, someone picked us up and we headed to the school. They’d had some bush fires through recently. The scorched trees came right up to the road and close to the township. I realised then how little they have to fight with. Some communities connect garden hoses together. Another has one truck which can store water but probably only gives them about 10 minutes of use. Filling it takes so long, it’s a once-a-fire aid. The whole area seems to be on bore-water so at least they’re not reliant on rain and tanks, but there’re certainly no fire hydrants when you need them.
This place was Lombadina. To me, a complete outsider, it seemed like a place divided. The town was split into catholic and non-catholic halves with the school in the middle. There was a definite disparity between the wealth and feeling of the two. And the split wasn’t along white or Aboriginal lines as far as I could tell. I’d like to have heard more about the community and its history. At the school the kids were lovely but with the late start, the teachers heading off to their break as we arrived and a big shed to teach in (allowing the kids to sit far away)… it was not the experience I’d like to have given them. Still, we had fun, I tried to get the older kids involved and hopefully they got something out of it.
The last stop was Beagle Bay and a complete contrast. We landed by the sea and headed off into the town (yes we were picked up!). There was obviously more money and organisation here. In the middle of the town the streets were paved, there were bigger buildings and the school had some great facilities. The first group was fidgety little kids wanting lunch. I didn’t hold it against them but it was tricky. Then again, lots of kids don’t necessarily get breakfast before school (a nationwide problem) so I don’t hold it against them! The after-lunch group was better. The school had gone to a lot of trouble – scanning in The Night Garden and projecting it behind me while I read, and having read and talked about the books with the children before I got there.
It’s funny. Facilities are nice, but they don’t matter like having dedicated teachers. And having enough comfort (food in your tummy and not feeling stressed and distracted) to be able to concentrate. And having kids that are open and positive and feel like they can do things too. One of the nicest things I heard over the course of my visit was that lots of the kids were so excited with the drawings we did they were taking their parents in to school to see them. And talking to parents I met in the street (who knew who I’d be because of the hair) saying what a great time their kids had and how much they’d actually remembered and described after the sessions. That’s what I love. I love seeing the kids get it when I tell them something. I love seeing them look around and notice something in the world they’ve never noticed before. I love making them excited about drawing and stories and using their imaginations.
I’d like to have spent more time in each community and have a chance to talk to people more, experience things their way and not just be on the outside looking in. But I’m incredibly thankful for the opportunity I did have! And I loved getting to meet everyone and see a tiny bit of their world.
