The Shack

Artwork by Therese Gabriel Wilkins

My grandparents had a holiday cottage at Tumbi Umbi, where Tumbi Road and Eastern Road join. We called it The Shack. It only had two rooms: a bedroom and a kitchen/lounge/dining room. No neighbours either side or across the road.

It was furnished with everyone’s cast-offs and oddments. No two plates matched, no two chairs were the same, the ornaments were eclectic, and that’s being kind. My parents had the bedroom, of course, and my sister and I shared a rock-hard, ancient green lounge with wooden arms and a peculiar smell. There was an old piano, hopelessly out of tune, that no-one knew how to play.

No town water here, but a rainwater tank full of mosquito wrigglers. All water had to be boiled for cooking, cleaning teeth and drinking. No bath or shower, and no hot water. We had a lukewarm wash in a basin, and every couple of days went to The Entrance Ocean Baths for a cold shower in the change rooms.

There was no sewerage, just a pan toilet in a small lean-to in the backyard that reeked something foul in the summer. When someone was staying at The Shack, they needed to put a bucket on the driveway, so that the Dunny Man knew to come and replace the pan. No outside light and no streetlights. How I hated the outside toilet in the darkness of night, especially when my older sister scared me with stories of wild bears waiting to rip off little girl’s arms.

When we arrived, Dad always went inside first, checking for frogs and lizards that may have taken up residence. Next, to the outside toilet to knock down spiders. Once he found a snake. Then out to the yard, which always had plenty of trapdoor spider holes. Dad poured petrol or boiling water down, which sorted them out quickly.

It was such an adventure for a small girl from suburban south-western Sydney. I loved exploring the vacant land, swimming at The Entrance or Long Jetty and investigating rockpools.

The Shack was sold following the death of my grandparents. Lost to my extended family these last 50 years or so, The Shack is still there. Within the now renovated house is the skeleton of a two-room holiday cottage. The once vacant land surrounding it is built out, and Tumbi Umbi is suburbia, but inside me I hold a treasure chest of childhood memories of holidays spent at The Shack.