These Infinite Spaces

Around the time I turned 17, Bird's parents took over the management of the band. To do them credit, we suddenly got a lot more gigs (which I could now drive myself to in my beloved Charger). On the downside, most of the gigs were band competitions - basically non-paying pub gigs.

Worse than that, virtually none of those gigs were local - they were usually at least an hours drive away in all directions. I'm not sure I realised it at the time, but this made it almost impossible for us to build a crowd. The one time we played a local gig, at Engadine Pub, the place was packed with school mates from Engadine and Heathcote High. But we only played there once! We were all clueless.

We played the Illawarra Leagues Club many times, with their band comp. But the gigs that stand out were those at the Vauxhall Inn at Granville. These were all late gigs - I usually wouldn't get home until 3 in the morning. Because they were Friday night, I had to get up at 7 and go to work at my job at the supermarket. Those were *very* long days.

We played the Vauxhall three times, and each time I had some sort of incident on the way home. The first incident was the least interesting but most dangerous - I fell asleep at the wheel. I was coming down Heathcote Rd, that last little dip before you start heading up toward the Princes Highway. I was fighting my tiredness hard, and eventually subcumbed. I woke seconds later as leaves and branches began hitting the side of the car - I was veering off the road. There is a steep gully to the left side of you on that part of the road. I can only hope the barriers would have held.

The second time I drove home from Vauxhall Inn, my car simply stopped working - I think I was on an isolated stretch of Heathcote Rd, some way south of Holsworthy. The car had never done that before or since - the engine simply went dead. Now, this is back in 1989 when we didn't have mobile phones. I was really stuck, and it was 2:30am. I began walking back north, and after about 45 minutes I began passing houses. All the lights were out, of course, and I didn't want to wake anyone up. Finally I passed a house with the lights on - they were up late having drinks with friends. I knocked on the door, and they answered with some surprise. When I explained the situation, they let me call my long-suffering Dad, and he came out and got the car going again (I can't recall what the problem was, and I never had it again).

My third trip home was the most dramatic. I was coming down the road just past Villawood I think, and there were many highrise blocks either side of the highway. Suddenly I heard a bang on the side of the car, and when I looked I saw a skinny kid, about 16, running away. I was absolutely furious - I pulled over in the next side street and strode back, ready to abuse the delinquint. I came upon him suddenly near some bushes, and I yelled at him. He turned and picked up a heavy chair leg he'd put in the bush. "Come on then, mate," he snarled.

I froze, adrenaline and fear racing through my body. I realised I was in deep trouble. Before I could say anything, a police car roared up and stopped, and then another one. There were 4 or 5 cops restraining the kid, and suddenly his mum was there arguing with the police, and more people and kids suddenly appeared as well. A few moments before it had only been the two of us, and now there were a dozen or more people around. It was bizarre, like a flash mob.

A policeman came over and took a statement from me. Turned out they'd been looking for him, and my little confrontation next to the highway had flushed him out. The cop gave me his number and told me to give him a call if there was any damage to my car. There wasn't, just a tiny scratch. And that was the last I heard of the matter.

Ok, I'm going to tell you about just one more gig for that line-up of The Catch. It was our only overnight performance, and in some ways was the most fun we'd had. Yet events that unfolded after mean I can only recall that gig with great sadness.