Wamboin Community Association


Wamboin has a somewhat different golf course where the 18 fairways are spread over five properties and the Bingley Way Community Centre. All putting surfaces on our golf course are sand greens.

On the first Sunday of each month we meet at the Community Hall in Bingley Way (at 12.15pm for a 12.30pm start) to sort out the competition. First time golfers and children are welcome to try their skills. We hit off on different holes to ensure a more even finish time.

Then it is back to the hall where tall stories and presentations are mixed with nibblies and drinks. Partners, friends and relatives of the golfers also join in this social activity.


Peter Greenwood  6238 3358

July Competition Results

Mahogany Ridge, Sunday 5 July. My old cobber, Tommy Gray, said to me the other day “Larry, old sport, mark my words: for all that beauty or that wealth e’er gave, the paths of glory lead but to the grave.” I said “buck up, Tommy, you’re just a bit down because the Royal’s closed”. Then, around the corner comes my pal T S Eliot with a long face, and pointing to his arms he says “these arms are not wings to fly but merely vans to beat the air.” To which I replied “Kombi Vans or Transit Vans?” But he declined to play along and just shuffled off. Which all goes to show how much the plague and its corollaries such as lock down, isolation, economic hardship and a mendicant society are getting on our nerves. And just as we thought we had it by the throat it pops up again south of the border. (Those bloody Mexicans. We should build a wall.) Then there’s all the “special pleaders” with their hands out for more and the opportunists urging governments that now is the time to invest in their cockamamie schemes to save the nation. Meanwhile the few elected democracies in the world are being surrounded by dictatorships, autocracies, oligarchies and countries you don’t want to visit, much less live in, where the citizens are fighting over the meagre and diminishing resources of their sand-blasted and disease-ridden homelands. Fortunately America, the acknowledged leader of the free world, has stepped up to the plate. Oops! I’ll read that again. Unfortunately America is in the hands of a person with the IQ of a gold fish, the personality of a dish cloth, the vocabulary of a sulphur-crested cocky, the ethical code of a rattle snake and the vision of Mr Magoo. And Pooty’s now President-for-Life of the good old USSR. Now hasn’t all that cheered you up!


But as Dr Spooner said, golf wounds all heels. Being July, competition was for the Ted Evans Memorial GST Trophy (add 10% to your score just like Ted did to your consumption). We thank our sponsor, Jude Evans for the prizes and refreshments. It was the first day back after lockdown. The Hall was open and spirits were high. Observing strict physical distancing the goodly crowd hit the course singing songs of comfort and joy.

Afterwards, back in our beloved Hall (some had to take their turn standing outside) the captain tried to call us to order but could not be understood through his mask. Eventually, with the assistance of an Auslan interpreter, he got the show on the road.

Winners & Grinners

The googly ball went to your correspondent who related an anecdote concerning our late friend, Ted. The dummy spit award was passed around: although there had been many displays of temperament there were no actual tantrums to speak of. The junior comp was taken out by Robert Thompson 70/36. The winner of the senior nine hole comp was Colin Urquhart 42/29 from Nev Schroder 38/31. Colin handed the Ned Kelly trophy over to Tim Barter but maybe should have hung onto it. Victor of the 18 hole comp was Paul Griffin 80/64 OCB from Vicki Still 87/64. Welcome back folks!

Next month is August, named after Augustus Caesar, so we’ll all be wearing togas. Join us in your Roman apparel plus laurel wreath for a Bacchanalia of a golf day. Don’t forget: 12.15pm sign in; 12.30pm start. Come late and you will be cast from the Tarpeian Rock. In the interim, congratulations to the lady from Bega, our new MP for Eden-Monaro. At time of writing it’s still an arm wrestle between Fiona McBain and Kristy Kotvojs. Whatever the outcome, let’s hope the winner looks after the great QPR and its regional capital, Wamboin.

Larry King, golfer

June Competition Results

Silverwater Correctional Centre, Sydney, Sunday, 7 June. Your correspondent enjoyed a short but exciting ride until they got him. I’m pleading temporary insanity: all that Covid 19 largesse dangled before me disturbed the balance of my mind. First it was the JobKeeper subsidy. As a self-employed pseudo journalist I applied for it after my gig at the Weekly became redundant (I’ve just been re-engaged by the Independent). Then, as a redundant employee of my own company, I put my name down for the JobSeeker allowance (well, why not?). As the money began rolling in I lost my sense of proportion and successfully sought the cash flow grant for small business, an advance on a superannuation policy I didn’t have, as well as grants from the Public Interest News-gathering program for regional areas and the ACT’s Homefront Arts Funding package. I think I went too far in getting a loan from Westpac and immediately applying for compassionate deferral of repayments. By that time I was working two jobs in the APS, one at Services Australia and one at the ATO, both created to handle the increased demand from applicants for various financial support schemes. At Services Australia I worked in the fraud section and was lucky enough to be given my own file to chase up. I figured it was time to pull the pin so I cashed out and stowed away aboard the Ruby Princess just as she was leaving Port Kembla. However, be sure your sins will find you out. When the ship pulled into Bora Bora I was arrested by two AFP officers and here I am on remand in the infirmary at Siverwater. You guessed it: I caught the damn virus on the damn boat. I’ll be out of isolation by the time my case comes up in July when I will be represented by Cleaver Greene.


Meanwhile the lucky devils are back playing golf at Wamboin. Although the hall is still closed we held the 19th outside the machinery shed adjacent to the green on Lamberts Leap, the home or the Covid 19 Bridge. While the captain did the tally we marveled at his suggested “improvements” to the bridge and appurtenant works. Yes, he’s a qualified civil engineer with some national infrastructure projects on his CV but do we really need hand rails, flood level indicators, signs that say “No Swimming, Diving or Fishing”, “No Passing or Overtaking”, “Children Under Adult Supervision”, “Do Not Feed the Troll”, a life saving ring on a pole with CPR instructions, emergency phone numbers, security lighting, seating both sides, landscaping and a hot dog stall? Finn's SpottiesNo we don’t. We do need to thank those who pulled the day together at short notice: Lofty Mason (kick starter and fluid loss adjusters), Steve Lambert (venue and prizes), Joan Mason and Libby King (food). Despite all, we had a fair-sized crowd who meticulously observed social distancing. It was particularly encouraging to see Jude Evans.

Winners & Grinners
Joan & Steve

After your correspondent phoned-in the Ted Evans Memorial Joke the googly ball and the dummy spit went to Colin Urquhart for missing his wife’s birthday. Winner of the nine hole event was Joan “I played very well today” Mason 43/32 OCB from Nev Schroder 39/32 with Lofty Mason 49/36 in 3rd place. Winner of the 18 hole comp was Tim “Hangover” Barter 74/65 equaling the course record and showing that you can play good golf with a furry tongue. Runner-up was Paul Griffin 83/67 from Colin Urquhart 100/74. Join us inside or outside the community hall on Sunday 5 July for another exciting exercise in mind over matter. We sign in at 12.15pm and tee off at 12.30pm. You don’t have to be a great golfer to have fun. As Tim has demonstrated you can still play on three cylinders and a flat tyre.

Larry King, golfer

May Golf Report

COVID Bridge

Mahogany Ridge, Sunday, 3 May. An upside of the loneliness of the long distance corona virus is the stuff you can accomplish around the property in isolation. Let’s say you’re the proud owner and green keeper of four new golf holes, one of which has a deep gully between the tee and the green. What does this suggest? Of course, a bridge! And so it came to pass that Steve Lambert, member of the R&A Wamboin GC, set about the Herculean task of bridging Lambert’s Leap (hole 18, par 4). Please see the photo of the Covid 19 Bridge.

I know what you’re thinking: Ponte Vecchio, Millau Viaduct, and the old Sydney Coathanger. It is a sobering thought that in centuries to come archeologists will be propounding theories on how it was constructed—no doubt by thousands of slave labourers—using only the rude instruments and measurement of the 21st century. Drawings found at the site suggest to your correspondent that the basic unit of calibration was the cubit—the length of the forearm from elbow to fingertip or approximately 44cm. Had the more generous covid—two arms lengths, approx 1.5 metres—been used there would have been a wider span higher up the gully. But these things happen—that tower in Pisa didn’t decide to lean all by itself. The bridge will have its official opening when the plague passes and we are again able to gather. The club would like to hear from any members of the De Groot family who might be prepared to cut the ribbon.

Meanwhile, as I shoot up on disinfectant recommended by my old mate Donald Strumpet, I am mindful of his equally apposite advice re the spread of the virus. Like you, I listen very carefully to his fact-laden press conferences and was particularly impressed by the assertion that China couldn’t be blamed entirely for the proliferation (already well under control) of an innocent little concoction circulating within parochial Wuhan. When asked directly by the annoying CNN reporter “if not China, then who?” The Prez responded in his open, direct way ”correct! WHO!” (Not to be confused with The Who or Hu Jintao—look him up.) I thought to myself: POTUS is on to something. WHO has form. Remember WHO killed Roger Rabbit? (They probably did it with myxo.) Anyway, I’m with ScoMo. There ought to be an inquiry. At least it’ll help the struggling legal profession.

Now, if I may change the subject (and, of course, I may—you’re not here to stop me) our cancelled competition would have been held two days before the anniversary of a most significant day in the march of civilisation. 5 May 1789 marks the beginning of Modern History. Why? The French Revolution, that’s why. Over the course of the following ten years the foundations were laid—somewhat bloodily, I acknowledge—for legal, political and social reforms which those of us lucky enough to be living in countries such as ours tend to take for granted. It was, admittedly, bad luck for Louis XVI and his cake-scoffing consort but you and I haven’t done too badly out of it. So think about it while you’re isolating and maybe sing the famous barricade song (‘Do You Hear the People Sing?’) from ‘Les Miz’.

And if gatherings of more than two are permitted in June, join us at the Community Hall on Bingley Way at 12.15pm on Sunday, 7 June for a game of golf, a sport introduced to Scotland by Mary, Queen of Scots upon her return from France—according to the French.

Larry King, once was golfer

April Golf Report

Mahogany Ridge, Sunday, 5 April. Your correspondent is in a bit of a spin. Here he is at home, self-oscillating. Also self-isolating, social-distancing, hand-washing, mask-wearing and all that. What’s inducing the mood swings is the sheer bloody dreariness of it all. In the early days of the pandemic it was exciting: going around all the supermarkets, panic buying, hoarding stuff, elbowing pensioners aside, and playing the frail aged off the hip. Happy days! I’ve got enough toilet paper, kitchen paper and tissues to insulate a three-bay machinery shed. But now, utter boredom! And the word is they’ve cancelled the Masters! Not only that paltry effort in the US but also the Wamboin Mini Masters. So here I am like my close personal friend, Samuel Pepys, writing in my diary about a great plague ringing changes to the world as we knew it.

All Done(y)

Excuse me, it’s 3pm. Time to scratch myself (who said I was lazy). I really look forward to these little highlights of my days in hibernation. Now where was I? Ah yes, great changes in life. But it’s good to know that COVID-19 is even-handed and impartial. It attacks the great and small without discrimination. In the UK Charley and Boris have got it. (I hope the Groom of the Stool has access to sufficient toilet paper.) I am attracted to the advice Boris was getting from his CMO: let the virus run wild through the population to generate “herd immunity”—over 70s to be quarantined in the interim. It would be quicker but produce more fatalities which raises moral issues for the squeamish. Nevertheless it would thin the ranks of those pesky baby boomers who will spend the best part of the next 20 years bludging on later generations. However your correspondent is a committed moralist (two years in Callan Park), and believes we should support the civil authority in times of crisis. I therefore go along with “flattening the curve” despite the mounting cost. It is a melancholy reflection that no Australian alive today is ever again likely to see a balanced federal budget. But if it stops us fighting in the streets that’s a good thing, isn’t it?

Saddle Up

If this really was a golf report the googly ball would go to Donald Strumpet who, like the excessively cheerful Pollyanna, continues to predict an early resumption of business as usual. The dummy spit would go to the whingeing cruise ship passengers quarantined—for free—in five star hotels without having to worry about where their next four course meal is coming from.

If the stars align you may consider joining us at the community hall on Sunday, 3 May for a game of golf. Meanwhile I hope you are safe, well and employed or at least benefitting from the various economic safety nets like JobKeeper. I’m OK (thanks for asking). As a reporter for a respected regional newspaper I’m in an “essential occupation”. In fact, SB-J has promised to double my ages.

Larry King, hermit

March Competition Results

Pine Slice

Sunday, 1 March. So there’s your correspondent, enjoying the Captain Cook Cruises trip around the islands—Goat Island, Shark Island, Cockatoo Island, Clark Island and Pinchgut Island—when a terrible thirst overcomes him. He breasts the bar and says to the Mexican bar attendant in as much Spanish as he can muster “uno Corona beerus por favor, and hold the lemon”. She jumps overboard screaming as a SWAT team of paramedics in full Hazmat gear throw him to the deck and whisk him off to isolation on Gilligan’s Island out in the Timor Sea or the Arafura or wherever. So that is why this report comes to you from Mahogany Ridge, relying upon the truth-telling citizens of the Palerang. The day was sponsored by Deb and Ken Gordon whom we thank for the refreshments and prizes. They nominated a comp determined by stroke play. And so players mounted their iron horses and galloped off into the green-tinged Wamboin panorama.

Champagne Gully

Back at the Hall we rhapsodized at the changes wrought in the natural world by the waning fires, the dissipating smoke and the soaking rains. We congratulated ourselves on having dodged the bullet (this time) as we thought compassionately of those who hadn’t. We lapsed whimsical on the ironies of fate and how fear of the burning of the South Eastern seaboard was replaced by the pandemic of COVID-19. (What happened to the other 18, eh?) And in that melancholy mood, conversation turned to the disappearance of Holden. I have to say that, although I never miss the Wheels of Wamboin, I’m not what you’d call a motorhead. So when I got home I dug out my old worm-ridden copy of Catcher in the Rye to see if Holden was still there. And of course he was. And so it will be for the millions of fans of the mighty Australian marque. Memories linger on.

Winners & Grinners

The captain, having marshalled the crowd in stentorian terms, introduced our guests, Don Izetti, Ross Ini and Belle Canto all the way from Naples. Apologies were received from Ted Evans.

Mads & Phoebe

The googly ball went to your correspondent in recognition of his absence on handicap maintenance. You can guess who got the dummy spit: yes, it’s still Vicki (anger management isn’t working). Encouragement awards went to Mads Gordon and Lemily, a first time golfer. LD and NTP ball winners were Vicki Still 3, Paul Griffin, Pete Harrison, Glen Crafter and Ken Gordon.

Phoebe Beckett won the junior comp 71/31. Winner of the seniors nine hole comp was Lofty Mason 46/33, from Joan Mason 45/34 with Samuel Urquhart 52/37 in 3rd place. The 18 hole comp winner was Tim Barter 76/67 from Vicki Still 90/68 OCB from Paul Griffin 83/68.

Next month is the Masters. I mean the Wamboin Mini Masters sponsored by the Wamboin Community Association. Join us at 12.15pm at the Community Hall for the usual prompt 12.30pm kick-off. And the next time somebody says to you “it is what it is” you look down the twin barrels of your nose and reply “and it isn’t what it isn’t “. It means the same thing: bugger-all!

Larry King, golfer.

February Competition Results

Sunday, 3 February. “Now is the Summer of our discontent” as my old chum Richard III would have so adroitly put it. Drought, fire, tempest, hail, dust and pestilence (coronavirus). And let’s not forget the elephant smoking Cuban cigars in the corner, the planetary climate. Those Four Horsemen of the Acropolis are at it again! So I’ll just say I hope you’re safe from the fires and their aftermath as you read this. Your correspondent has been busy preparing the Upper Wamboin Mosquito Firefighting Unit as he worries about the future for poor old Harry and Mehghanh (can’t remember where the “h” goes). I hope they’re not reduced to busking in a draughty Montreal subway.

The day was sponsored by the Schroder and Whitney families whom we thank for the prizes and refreshments. It was also hot (but you knew that) so many players started at around 7am to beat the worst of the heat.


Afterwards we reassembled at the evacuation centre, and expressed our regret at the passing of Jim Morrison, front man for The Doors. It’s not well-known that Jim multi-tasked as director of our ANG and was instrumental in the purchase of “Jack the Dripper” Pollack’s Blue Piles. (What other kind are there?) We also bemoaned the rough treatment meted out to the federal agriculture minister, Bridie McNaughty, for her top class work as former sports minister. We thought a person who can recognize a pork barrel when they see it is a lay-down misère for promotion to the portfolio responsible for animal husbandry.

In light of the reappearance of the hardy annual debate about Australia Day, the flag and the anthem, we exercised the collective mind to solve all three conundrums. The date was easy: 21 June, Lionel Rose’s birthday. You just can’t go past the first indigenous Australian to win a world boxing title and to be named Australian of the year. In later life he was a successful businessman and all-round good bloke, by all accounts. The flag’s a “gimme”: a green Qantas kangaroo on a gold background. The song was tougher and, to be honest, I don’t think we cracked it. There was a lot of support for “Jail Break” by ACDC, reflecting whitefellas’ convict past but of different significance to blackfellas. “We are One but We are Many “was thought to appeal only to wet, woke, inner-city greenies. We flatly rejected “Take your feet off the table, father, and give the cheese a chance” and “ If I had to do it all over again I’d do it all over you” as lacking the necessary gravitas. We settled on the Marseillaise. Yes, I know it’s already taken but it’s a damn good song and can get you a round of applause at the Tres Bon.

Winners & Grinners

The captain brought us to order by introducing the three wise monkeys, one of which (Tim the Elder) was genuinely hard of hearing.

The googly ball went to Barnaby Joyce for having another go at running the Country Party. But, as Alice Roosevelt said, a soufflé can’t rise twice. The dummy spit was awarded to the team of Tim “Battling” Barter and Vicki ”Moonshine” Still, who were at it again, so we sent them off for counselling.

Nev & Steve

Encouragement awards went to Phoebe Beckett and the young Gordons (and the medal of valour to Deb). Robert Thompson won the junior comp from runner-up, Tim Nelson. Winner of the senior nine hole comp was Steve Lambert 42/30 from Ken Gordon 38/34. Victor in the 18 hole comp was Paul Griffin 85/70 with Tim Barter 2nd 83/71.

On Sunday, 1 March you may wish to join us at the hall at 12.15pm for the dependable 12.30pm start of the Mad March Hare Medal. Meanwhile, think this one through: will we exhaust the strength of the Sun’s rays by the over-use of solar energy? And if so could that spell doom for wind and tidal power which, in essence, are created by the Sun? And if so, what’s left? First neatest, legible entry wins a self-paid-all-expenses holiday at a beachside retreat in Kiribati.

Larry King, golfer

January Competition Results

Sunday, 5 January. A mild Summer’s day, 25°C with a consolatory breeze coming in from the NW at a steady 15 clicks. The 120mm of rain over the previous week had washed out the smoke as it filled tanks, topped up depleted dams and generally gave new life to the parched earth and its unique and variegated flora and fauna. The golfers of the region, revitalized by the benign turn in the climate, sang like the larks in Spring as they set off into the fresh and verdant landscape garden we call Wamboin knowing that, like Candide, we live in the best of all possible worlds. Sure, the US Senate had failed to convict impeached Prez D Strumpet but the man himself, with his usual self-effacing modesty and respect for tradition, had voluntarily resigned making way for the much-admired Abraham Lincoln. Our own SkocoMo had returned refreshed from an extended family holiday on Devil’s Island to capably retake the reins. He thanked the charismatic acting PM (whose name your correspondent may recall in the fullness of time), for his competent interim management of government affairs including his ubiquitous and empathetic handling of the national emergencies. Former Nats leader, Inspector Barnaby, got his new year’s wish granted—“I just don’t want the Government any more in my life!”—when the government cancelled all subsidies, bounties and tax deductions for primary producers. Farmers and graziers thanked him with tears of gratitude (or something) streaming from their eyes.

Saddle Up

And then I woke up. Turned out it was, in fact, a coolish day. But the sun was red and the throat-scorching smoke as thick as a fog on a Winter’s morning. So rule 579 kicked in: start time arbitrary and only nine holes played. The day was sponsored by Wiyagiba Trading and we thank Dave Hubbard for the prizes. Or we would if he’d turned up. Instead he was trapped at Fire Control marshalling tankers for the battle to our East. He made his mark though, by declaring a three-club Stableford competition. So it was Lofty and Joan Mason to the rescue, for which they earn our gratitude.

Where it lay

Back in the fog machine, as the captain tried to decipher the smoky score cards, we expressed our admiration for the way the media (other than, of course, the Weekly) were bolstering the nation’s confidence in the civil authority by putting the slipper into poor old ScoMo and his talent-rich cabinet at every opportunity. We wondered if anything worthwhile could emerge from the present adversity. Then we remembered those good ol’ one-trick-ponies down at the Reserve Bank using the blunt instrument of monetary policy to kick the economy along by dynamiting interest rates (“it didn’t work, let’s do it again”). Looks like Guv Low will get his wish and Treasurer Friesanburger will blow the surplus on fiscal measures to rebuild infrastructure and peoples’ lives. Anyway, let’s hope so.

Winners & Grinners

The captain welcomed our guests, Brenda Barnard all the way from the UK, Alan, Maureen and Lorraine Schroder from Adelaide and Scott and Lila Mason from Cairns. Ted Evans told us why he could be a bit late. Pete Harrison got the googly ball for insisting on playing his shot where it lay on the fire brigade’s wire mesh hose-drying rack (see photo). Your correspondent was unfairly awarded the dummy spit for his good manners in informing his golfing partners of his playing intentions (i.e. DNP).

Joan & Lila

The encouragement award went to Phoebe Beckett. There were no LD or NTP balls awarded due to the slackness of the green keepers. Winner of the junior comp was Lila Mason on a count back. Winner of the senior comp was Samuel Urquhart (now officially a senior) with 19 Stableford points on a count back from Tim Barter with Pete Harrison in 3rd place on 17. Well played, one and all.

Next month is February. My, hasn’t the year flown past! Join us at the community hall at 12.15pm on Sunday, 2 February for the usual 12.30pm start to a spirit-lifting game of golf. Meanwhile keep safe and watch your neighbour’s back.

Larry King, golfer


December Competition Results

The Christmas Cup

Pine Slice

Sunday, 1 December. And did the wind blow! Some of our smaller golfers were carried away like Dorothy and Toto and we haven’t found them yet. The hurricane thinned the field for the Christmas Cup, some scuttling for home, others never having left it. Pikers, I say! Pikers! Wait ‘til Santa hears. Your correspondent, temporarily disabled by a slightly chipped finger nail, was forced to sit the gale out in front of the 2nd test v Pakistan but struggled gamely to make the 19th hole—hence this deadly accurate account of the day’s play which was sponsored by a brace of Peter: Peter Greenwood and Pete Harrison. We thank them cordially for the prizes and refreshments. Competition was decided by stroke play adjusted for handicap.

Timber Trap

Back in the bunker as the captain toted the scores and the players rubbed feeling back into their pinched little wind-blown faces, sympathy was expressed for the late Cecil Rhodes, no doubt rotating in his mausoleum at the dumbing down of recipients of his famous scholarship to Oxford University. Think of the following Rhodes Scholars who come across as at least lacking judgement if not precisely dim witted: Tony Rabbit, Malcontent Turnbull and, lately, Anguish Tailor, minister for land clearing and sworn enemy of Crab Grass Moore, Lord Mayor of the Big Smoke. [Note to self: don’t forget to ring old mate NSW police commissioner to get the goss on what ScoGo Sharks wanted.] We then re-ran the Melbourne Cup. Your correspondent had engaged ALP luminaries, Craig Emerson and Jay Wetherill, to find out why he did his dough. Their report revealed (a) an uninspiring leader (the jockey); (b) bad policies (the horse); (c) inept campaign (horse ran the wrong way round the course). We then discussed what Chinese President-for-life, She Gin Sling, would do about Hong Kong. Answer: nothing. Shanghai can replace it as an entrepot port any day. And then we mourned the death of the remarkable Clive James.

Winners & Grinners
Pete & Vicki

The captain noted that Ted Evans was recovering in one of the ACTs many superb hospitals. We wish him well. The googly ball went to Col and Samuel Urquhart who played the wrong nine hole course despite the email advice to all golfers. The dummy spit was awarded to Pete Harrison for complaining about the lack of an Esky to greet players on the Wirreanda holes (I’d hate to be that desperate). Encouragement awards went to Makayla Millia, Phoebe Beckett, Robert Thompson and Tim Nelson. LD and NTP ball winners were the Urquhart boys as consolation for playing the wrong nine holes. The Urquhart family also retained the Ned Kelly Trophy, a masterpiece of the concreter’s art. Winner of the junior comp was Alex Gordon 53/34. Winner of the senior nine hole event was Ken Gordon 37/33 from David Thompson 53/36. First place getter in the 18 hole comp was Tim Barter 74/66 from Vicki Still 96/76. Apparently they “battled” their way around the course in every sense of that word. Well played all, you’re a credit to clean living!

Next month it will be 2020, the UN International Year of Excellent Vision and Extraordinary Hindsight. If you can see your way clear, why not join us at the community hall at 12.15pm on Sunday, 5 January for the usual 12.30pm blast off. Meanwhile spare a thought (and more) for former Wamboinians, Jake Annetts and Angela Hunter, who lost their house in the North Black Range fire. And remember that we, too, live in a fire prone area so make your plans and stay safe over the Summer.

Larry King, golfer

November Competition Results

The Wamboin Open

Sunday, 3 November. The day of the preeminent Wamboin Open, celebrated in ancient ballads and epic poetry. The assembled teeming masses were hushed by the news that competition would take place on a brand new course including four new holes—courtesy of the Lamberts—replacing those lost or reconfigured. As usual there would be two comps: the Open itself determined on gross strokes (that’s total, not nasty); and a handicap division. The day is sponsored by the R&A Wamboin GC which we thank for the prizes and provender—the latter arranged by Joan Mason and Libby King. The BOM promised rain but we ignored that (foolishly, as it transpired) and set forth in Summer raiment with a Spring still in our steps and Winter and Autumn nought but distant memories.

Wet Weepers

At the 19th we wrung ourselves out after the cloudburst while the captain did his slow and patient best to make sense of our sodden score cards. There was much to wonder at: the return of Sky Whale, a mobile work of art representing the fusion of the welfare state and the cargo cult; the violent death of the notorious Iraqi rapper, Bag Daddy; the defeat of the Angles, led by their King, Edward the Obsessive, at the Battle of Yokohama; the democracy consultations in Hong Kong which appear to be going awfully well; and the impeachment of that master of the art of the deal from the bottom of the pack, Donald Strumpet. This caused some confusion. Some thought that impeachment was a ritual observed each year at the Araluen Spring Festival when hippies are tossed into vats of fermenting stoned fruit. Their frame of mind on emerging depends on how stoned they were when they went in.

Winners & Grinners


The captain called for order and half an hour later introduced our guests, Len Ivey, Tony “Echo” Dowdell, Ben Lomond, Ben Nevis and the hyper-active Ben Zadrine. The googly ball went to Mr Dowdell for hitting the only tree on the 8th fairway three times with three balls and three trees on the 9th with one ball. The dummy spit didn’t go to Vicki Still on this occasion but was perpetrated by Alex Gordon for complaining about the quality of the plastic tees provided gratis by the Club to all players. Ingrate! LD and NTP ball winners were Echo, Lofty Mason, Col Urquhart, Vicki Still (did I mention she didn’t spit the dummy?), Steve Lambert, Len Ivey and Ken Gordon. The junior champion was Robert Thompson. The encouragement award went to Lisa Whitney. Based on the careful calculations by Nev Schroder the 2019 Eclectic winners were Ken Gordon (9 holes) and Paul Griffin OCB (18 holes).

John & Deb

We now reveal the names of our club champions for 2019. The 9 hole handicap champion was Deb Gordon 52/34 from Lofty Mason 49/35 with Ken Gordon 40/36 in 3rd place. The 18 hole handicap champion was Vicki Still 87/67, demonstrating what is possible when the dummy remains unspat. Runner-up was Len Ivey 88/69 with Tim Barter 81/73 3rd. And now, quiet please as we announce the names of the 2019 club champions gross scores: Ladies champion (9 holes) Joan Mason 50 and club champion (18 holes) John Whitney 81. All who took part are to be congratulated for providing stiff competition. Well done!

Next month marks the end of the golfing year and features our Christmas Competition when we all sing carols and jingle our bells. Why not join us at 12.15pm at the community hall on Sunday, 1 December for the traditional 12.30pm start. Meanwhile I hope your choice of pet food did well in the Melbourne Steaks, the race that feeds a nation.

Larry King, golfer

October Competition Results

The Oktoberfest Medal

Sunday, 6 October. By now even the sceptics reckon there’s something in the IPCC’s call on climate change. (Cynics think it’s a scam to sell more windmills and photo voltaic cells at the expense of our peerless fossil fuels.) The kids are convinced. Under the leadership of Ms Greta Thunberg they’re all giving up school, concerned that their childhood’s been stolen and they have no future. Your correspondent predicts a glittering future for Ms Thunberg in public life. Probably not in the performing arts—she appears to be a chronic over-actor and clearly unsuitable for those Scandi Noir movies pioneered by another famous Swede, Ingmar Bergman, where the cast stands around for 120 minutes gazing soulfully over windswept fjords and not saying much.

Hall NTP

Anyway, climate was very much on the minds of the region’s golfers as they saddled up on a hot—one might say unseasonably hot—day to contest the Oktoberfest Medal sponsored by Sir Kenneth and Lady Deborah Gordon to whom we direct prodigious thanks for the prizes and the eats (all cooked by Madz). The sponsors having declared the comp would be determined on stroke play, we loaded extra water and rations in the Bushmasters, ASLAVs and half-tracks and set off across the burning sands into the blue, thinking of T E Lawrence and his seven pillars of wisdom.

Chook Pen Drive

Back at Wadi 19 as the captain checked the cards, we asked ourselves whether scientists, in alerting us to the climate problem, had done only half the job. What about giving us the solution? And don’t just say “reduce greenhouse gas”. Tell us how to do it. Surely the people who gave us penicillin, the atom bomb, WD 40 and Post-it notes can find the answer? Here’s a few suggestions from the 19th hole: 1. an aerosol spray that returns carbon dioxide to its constituent parts. We breathe the oxygen and the carbon precipitates out as toasted marshmallows, rocky road and chocolate-coated peanuts. Note: avoid the use of CFCs as propellant; 2. All ocean-going vessels to drag sacrificial anodes which attract and eat plastics and burp oxygen; 3. Special Water Pills which produce H2O molecules in inverse proportion to their mass (just add water). Simples! It’s a wonder the pointy heads haven’t sorted this out. What’s the CSIRO for?

Winners & Grinners
Joan & Madz

The captain introduced our guest, local pyro technician, Stan Wellback. Ted Evans sent his best wishes from Queanbeyan. The googly ball was awarded to Joan Mason for providing the protective milk crates on the six tees at the Masonic Lodge. The dummy spit went to serial complainant, Vicki Still. The encouragement award was claimed by Karen Thompson – to encourage her to learn to score properly. The junior nine hole comp winner was Robert Thompson with 47 strokes off the stick for a net 32. LD and NTP ball winners were Tim Barter x 3, Vicki Still x 3, Joan Mason, Paul Griffin and Pete Harrison. The senior nine hole comp winner was Joan Mason 41/29 from David Thompson 63/31 and Larry King 3rd OCB 47/35. The senior 18 hole comp winner was Pete Harrison 87/60 from Vicki Still 83/61 and Tim Barter 3rd 71/63. Well done all players!

Next month is November, but those who went to school know that. The November comp is a special day in the Wamboin golfing calendar – it’s the Wamboin Open. Join us at the community hall in Bingley Way at 12.15pm on Sunday, 3 November to see if you can get your name on the honour board. Play will start at 12.30pm sharp.

Larry King, golfer

September Competition Results

The Mason Spring Trophy

Sunday 1 September. First the Great Wamboin Curry Night, the Wamboin Fireworks then the Wamboin Spring Trophy. “Could it get better?” I hear you cry. Well, yes it could. But it didn’t.

Saddle Up

The region suffered the towering disappointment of a lost opportunity but your correspondent will get to that in due course. As in all things, golf takes precedence particularly in Spring when surly Winter’s bitterness is soothed as if by a lover’s breath. The birds of the air and the beasts of the field whirl and prance with joyous energy and Nature dons her multi-coloured raiment to trip the light fantastic up the lanes, through the hedges and down the dells. And each golfer of the region emerges from their chrysalis to contest the ancient trophy which features two genuine bed springs.

Wattle Grove

The occasion was sponsored as usual by Joan and Lofty Mason whom we thank for the prizes and the repast, especially Joan’s celebrated spring rolls. The sponsors declared a three-club day determined by stroke play. And thus, the nymphs and shepherds of the area darted off into the woods with a hey nonny nonny and other bucolic Spring-type sayings.

Back at Titania’s leafy bower, as Captain Oberon checked our cards, we gasped in awe at the thrilling news that POTUS Donald “Blow-Your-Own” Trumpet had made a bid for the Palerang part of the QPRC. I’ll give you some background. When Donnie was just an up-and-coming real estate agent he visited Wamboin where he formed a close attachment to a brushtail possum (trichosurus vulpecula). It now sits on his head everywhere he goes. He refers to it as the GOP (Grand Old Possum). It engendered an affection for the area and its prescient residents who saw in him a latent political genius of Lincolnesque proportions. Now he bestrides the world like a Colossus—as my old mate Bill Shakers puts it—building golf course resorts here and there. Imagine his delight when he remembered that Wamboin already has its very own PGA-rated 18 hole course! But our risk-averse council knocked it back. Did they learn nothing from the Greenland debacle?

Wiping tears of disappointment from his eyes the captain introduced our guests Lisa Whitney, Karen Thompson, Katie Urquhart, Nick Hewitt and Brigit McCloud. Apologies were accepted from Sue Narmee and Anne Droyd. Ted Evans lectured us on GP waiting room etiquette. Googly balls were awarded to your correspondent for losing more than two balls in the same dam and Nick Hewitt for losing his ball in the embers of the previous night’s bonfire.

Winners & Grinners

The encouragement award again went to Robert Thompson (the lad’s a prodigy). LD and NTP ball winners were Pete Harrison x 2, Ken Gordon x 2, John Whitney x 2, David Thompson, Paul Griffin, Lisa Whitney and Samuel Urquhart.


Junior comp winner was Phoebe Beckett. Winner of the nine hole comp was John Whitney on 36 strokes reduced to 28 by handicap. Runner-up was Colin Urquhart 41/29. Winner of the 18 hole comp was Pete Harrison 91/63 from Paul Griffin 81/67. A blessing on all who took part!

Next month’s comp will be for the Oktoberfest Medal. Pull out the old beer stein and lederhosen and join us at the Hall at 12.15pm for the accustomed and prompt 12.30pm start.

Please note, for your added security we are installing milk crates on every tee and green.

Larry King, golfer

August Competition Results

Tradies' Day

Sunday, 4 August. “One small step etc, etc…” But was that all Mr Armstrong said before stepping out onto the Moon’s surface? By no means! The Whisper has the full story courtesy of a NASA mole. But first the golf. It was a halcyon sort of day as the crowd mustered for the August Skilled Trades Spectacular sponsored by those dextrous people who solve technical problems, Trent Able (electrical) Don Evans (plumbing/gas fitting), Col Prest (automotive) and Henk Berlee (mechanical) whom we thank profusely for the rewards for effort and the bodily sustenance. Competition was to be settled by stroke play.


Singing Moon River and Blue Moon and so on, we climbed into our command modules and blasted off for the great unknown. Back at Mission Control, as the captain did the sums, your correspondent revealed to the astounded gathering, mouths agape, the scoop of the century i.e., what Neil really said. And here it is:

“Buzz, kill all external comms while I struggle into the damn back pack. It takes an age to get it over the space suit. Haven’t JPL heard of Velcro? OK here we go. Dammit! I can’t open the bloody door. Just wait until I see those idiots back at the Skunkworks. OK, got it. All it needed was a good kick. This ladder is a real bastard – 500 billion pictures of George Washington and they give us something you could buy at Walmart. Right, nearly there. What a dump! Looks like the bottom of a cement mixer. I hope we’ve got enough fuel left to get out of here. Let’s just take the pictures, grab the rocks and go. OK, Buzz, external comms back on for the deathless statement”. PAUSE. “One small step…..” And there you have it. You read it here first.

Short 'n' Sweet

The captain welcomed or guests the Thompson family, Robert, David and mum; Chris Hansen, Mrs Hansen and Emma Crafter. Also present were members of the Palerang Girls’ Marching Team – Katherine Gorge, Alice Springs, Rose Bay, Margaret River, Adelaide Hills and Marie Bain. Ted Evans told us how to insure a wooden leg.

Winners & Grinners

The googly ball went to Emma Crafter for advancing her ball by use of the foot (just like her dad). The dummy spit went to Samantha Urquhart for dobbing in Emma’s dad. Encouragement awards were bestowed on Robert Thompson and Emma Crafter.

18 Hole Winner

LD and NTP ball winners were Colin Urquhart x 3, Ken Gordon x 3, Tim Barter x 2, Vicki Sill and Pete Harrison. The juniors comp was won by Phoebe Beckett with 28 after handicap off 66 strokes. The nine hole comp was taken out by Samantha Urquhart 58/30 from runner-up Ken Gordon 36/32. Winner of the 18 hole comp was Paul Griffin 75/58; 2nd Glen Crafter 75/61 OCB from Vicki Still. Well done, everyone!

Next month is glorious Spring. Time to emerge from the diapause of Winter and gambol about the Elysian Fields of Wamboin like woolly lambkins. And compete for the Spring Trophy. And scoff a few of Joan’s famous spring rolls. Join us at the community hall at 12.15pm on Sunday, 1 September for the ever-dependable 12.30pm shotgun start. We are hoping that our mayor, Mr Working Trousers, will kindly donate to the winner of the Spring Trophy a weekend stay in Sydney at the QPRC’s luxury penthouse in Macquarie Street. Meanwhile please note that King Street, Bungendore, is not named after any member of my family, none of whom can drive an excavator.

Larry King, golfer