RAMCO POINT SA and A MAN WITH AN AXE

  I needed to cross the Murray River from north to south across the ferry at Waikerie. I  found Waikerie a bit boring, the pies weren't bad though. Ramco Point is a primitive Free Camping spot a few klms from the town that stretches for quite a distance along the banks of the river. I followed a rough track parallel to the water, for about 500 metres from the boat ramp to settle in one of the small clearings amongst the River Gums. With a good view up and down the river and plenty of birdlife around, this was a good place to stay for a couple of days.

  Now picture this. It was dusk and the light was fading fast as I sat in the darkening Hiace contemplating what I would have for dinner. It may have been a sound outside that got my attention and gave me the feeling that someone else was nearby. Gingerly, I parted the curtains in an attempt to investigate. All I saw was a very large and sharp axe head attached to it's stoat handle moving past the window. Very strange I thought feeling slightly anxious. Why would anyone want to approach with an axe in the dark. I sat still, hoping that whoever held the handle of the potential weapon would go away. I sensed a pulse of adrenalin as the ownerless axe head passed by the front window of the van. Fight or flight ideas entered my head when the loud knocking on the side door began.  Well, death by axe should be pretty swift I thought, so here goes. I bravely slid the door open to find a rough looking bloke, clothes unwashed, with long black hair tied back, a backpack and the huge "head remover" over his shoulder. While noting that my heartbeat was now more rapid than normal, I defiantly questioned my unwelcome visitor "Yea mate, what do you want".  With that, Mr axe murderer shifted his instrument of death from one shoulder to the other (I made a mental note to tell the Police that he was left handed, if I survived).  He stood there menacingly for a moment until with a thick Eastern European accent boomed" Do you have a light"? Thinking quickly I took a box of matches from a drawer and passed it to him with a confident "here take these". He took my gift with a snatch then placed them in a trouser pocket before adjusting his grip on the axe handle. Here it comes I feared, "live like a Nomad and die like a Nomad". The Ukrainian exterminator then proceeded to thrust a hand towards mine and shook with a vice like grip saying with that thick accent "Thank you, you are very kind". With that alone, he turned and with purposeful gait, disappeared into the bushy darkness.
"Now what was it that I was going to have for  dinner" I asked as I firmly slid the van door shut, making sure it was securely locked.