Cuballing and the job from hell
Current mood: relieved
Category: Travel and Places

I arrived dramatically, narrowly avoiding the perils of a dirt track I was travelling down, I was doing 70 mph in the ford falcon id just acquired and took a turn badly and skidded across the road losing control. I proceeded to swerve violently left and right desperately trying to regain control of the car. In the shock of it all I hadn't realized my foot was still firmly on the accelerator, which made matters worse. I narrowly missed a tree before grinding to a halt on the wrong side of the road. Think I saw my life flash before my eyes.

I arrived in Cuballing mid day, there was little to this out of the way town, a post office, gas station and a pub with accommodation upstairs that was to be my lodgings for the next 6 weeks. I sized up my room, it was unoccupied. It had 3 beds; one of them was bigger than the other 2 so I claimed it by dumping all my stuff on it.

I met my boss that night, Geoff Reinke, a 40 yr old cowboy with sun-baked wrinkles and a burnt neck. He came across as friendly but stupid. He asked me if it would be OK to use my car to ferry people to and from work as someone had let him down with a vehicle. I said I didn't mind and that night we had a BBQ down in the beer garden; all the workers were backpackers, a few French, 2 Canadian, a few English and a stray Italian. We stayed up fairly late drinking and getting to know each other. The locals were a bit scary, when I entered the run down bar to get a beer people flashed eyes at me suspiciously, the green décor added to the overwhelming feeling that this place was for locals and outside was for backpackers. I withdrew beer in hand back to my station. The landlord was an ex-biker with tats everywhere, a nice enough bloke but very racist. At night he used to lock up with a bat in his hand, one of the backpackers asked him what it was for to which he replied "Abo bashing"

The next day we all went to work, apprehensive and vaguely excited, the journey took about 30 mins and I was faced with my current worst nightmare, more f***ing dirt roads, I took a few breaths and took it real easy, I had people in the back and didn't want to be responsible for their untimely deaths.

We arrived at the tree farm, million's upon millions of little sandalwood trees in long lines blotted out the landscape for mile and miles. The big boss man came down and told us it was our job to plant 2 seeds either side of the little trees, working in rows from top to bottom. I was thinking that this was a worthwhile job; we were doing our bit for the environment. He then told us the trees were being grown then hacked down in order to extract the sandalwood oil to make rich expensive perfume. We were each given a seed bag, a seed plunger ( a heavy tool about 2ft in length) and a degrading fluorescent top so we could always be seen no matter how far away we were.

We began the onslaught, planting seed after seed, the tool grew heavier as the day went on and the seed bag would be topped up every so often and caused the right shoulder to ache. By the end of the 1st day we were all sore and some had blisters from using the tree plunger without gloves. The sun was a killer too, in the height of the midday sun temperatures rose to 40 Degrees and the flies would be out in force. Occasionally I would look up from beyond the tree lines to see other workers with 50 or so flies on their back. At lunch time the flies didn't leave us, buzzing around our faces as we tried to consume our sandwiches, all the time trying not to eat the flies.

And so began 6 weeks of hell, we'd awake at 5am to be on the tree farm for 6am, we'd spend 10 hours a day planting these bloody seeds so women could smell nice. Row after row after row, we worked in the baking hot sun, sweat dripping off our faces, callouses forming on our hands, dirt covering our legs. Finishing one row would offer a little respite as we made our way to the next row of trees, taking our time to straighten up our backs and walk normally for a change. It seemed like never-ending torture. It was gruelling and completely uninspiring and I started to feel like robot after just a few days.The mind grew dull and sluggish at the level of inaction.

During the 1st week I ferried some people to and from the job site, arriving home exhausted and with nothing to do but drink and chat and go to bed early ready for another boring and repetitive day at the tree farm. Unfortunately I hit a rock on one of the dirt roads in the 1st week and cracked my exhaust, ..ping and assessing the damage I saw that the exhaust was hanging off and was burning the side of my car. I left it at the pub and Geoff the Boss sorted out another vehicle.

I grew deeply annoyed at Geoff the boss for not giving me warning that that the drive to work could f*** up my car. He'd mentioned at the beginning that some backpackers didn't like taking their cars to work but id neglected to enquire as to why. Id done this Ass wipe a favour taking workers to the job site and had ended up with a broken exhaust. The annoyance grew as I continued to plant these bloody seeds in the stinking heat. I realised in the 2nd week that I had to say something, get a few things off my chest. The job was grinding me down; I grew slower with the monotony of it all. Some grew quicker hoping to make a bonus $24 an hour but I didn't give a s*** about this. One Canadian guy took it all too seriously and was constantly sucking up to the boss and asking how many Hectares we'd done. He got so up himself that one day he had a go at a female worker for being a few minutes late in the morning, what a dick!!

The job was really starting to get to me and my mind couldn't take any more inactivity, on Thursday i was going pretty slow, trying to preserve some energy for the 9 or so hours left in the day. Geoff came up and said to get a move on, I turned around and told him straight that I hated the job and wanted to leave (find another robot, I said to myself). He said OK and left it at that.

A word on Geoff the boss, the guy was a hillbilly redneck that didn't particularly like backpackers despite working with them for many years, the job was so s***e that only desperate backpackers would take the job to get some travel money together and move on. You could hear the tension in his voice when he talked of bad backpackers that had let him down in the past. He was a bit of a Jekyll and Hyde character, in fact I branded him as Geoff and Hyde, then name seemed fitting. He had a temper and could be sweet as pie one minute and bloody horrible the next. Mornings were a bad time for his occasional outbursts. Once he swore violently at a Canadian guy for sitting in the back of a space wagon when the car didn't start, completely uncalled for. Another time he screamed at a German guy for planting the seeds a little off centre, f***ing maniac!

So I dragged my sorry ass around the tree farm for a few more days, every fibre of my body wanting to quit there and then but I ploughed on for a few more day hoping the cooler weather would come but it never did. Sunday finally came and I was totally relieved for this hell on earth job to be over. The hot nights had stopped me from sleeping as well as the intense foot odour of my bedroom colleagues; I was exhausted and run down. The hell wasn't quite over yet though.

Geoff had obviously taken offence that I was leaving early along with another French guy, 2 other people had left the previous week as well. We got back that Sunday night and had some beers to unwind; Geoff pulled me a side and told me that if I wanted to stay at the pub then id have to pay. I said that id done a full days work and why should I have to pay. He made up some bulls*** that I wasn't covered for the night and I grew enraged. Now was the time to get some stuff off my chest. I got closer to him and said "what about my car?, its f***ed and its your fault". He looked shocked, "my fault?" he replied. "Its not my fault you can't drive!" My blood was boiling. "I did you a favour and this is how you repay me?" He looked a little guilty and said" ok, ill pay for the room tonight out of the goodness of my heart but I want you gone tomorrow". I stormed off and drank a beer to cool down. I could have killed this Hillybilly MoFo.

On Monday I sorted out money and he gave me a little to fix the car but not enough. He didn't relent in being an a****** boss, he told us to hurry up and get out, I flashed an evil eye at him and said "yes I in tend too but I may have a beer first" This got to him and I thought he was gonna go for me but he thought twice about it and left. The French guy and me left rather hurriedly never to return, we said our goodbyes and burned off to the nearest garage to get the car fixed. Felt so good to leave Cuballing, a town full of racists, hillbillys and thieves. My heart goes out to the workers still there, ploughing along in the terrible conditions, I salute you, poor b******s!

p.s i hate trees