Australia the Real Timeline
by
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The First Foreign Invasion on Aussie Soil Captain Cook arrives off Cronulla Beach aboard The Endeavour, and low and behold,whata-da-ya recon , the good Captain finds exactly what he expected. Captain James Cook of His Majesty's Navy, stands on the deck of The Endeavour, spyglass to his eye, flanked by his officers. "What do you see Captain?" "Exactly what I expected to see, a bunch of half-naked savages parading about the beach." A 'Captain's arse kissing' laugh erupts from the rent-a-crowd on the deck, which only serves to boost Old Cooky's already overinflated ego to the point of 'Cooky-cockiness'. "Are they armed?" asks his Lieutenant eager to get on with the invasion. "Nothing", replied the bewildered sailor, "just marching around with flags and reels of sail rope, but no sails on their longboats; several longboats but not a ship in sight; very odd indeed. Prepare to launch the longboat, Lieutenant, twelve soldiers will be more than enough to subdue this rabble and accomplish our mission; this land shall be under the rule of His Majesty by noon." Tumultuous applause and cheers erupted from the gathered throng, as orders were barked to assemble the landing party, and launch the longboat. "They have a citadel high up on the beach, I suspect that is where their armaments are housed, if indeed they have any. In the unlikely event I experience undue resistance, Lieutenant, upon my signal, train all cannons on the citadel, and fire a single warning shot, take out the flag that flies over her; it will be soon enough be replaced with the Union Jack anyway." "Understood, Captain, but what might that signal be?" "The signal goddammit, Lieutenant, the signal. I shall remove my hat and raise it in the air. If I drop my hat to the ground, I want to hear the sound of cannon balls a-roarin', and see that citadel razed to a pile of rubble." "Ay Ay Captain", the Lieutenat saluted, as Captain Cook prepared for the short boat ride, to be sure 'twould be the longest journey of his young life. Border Security? A bit earlier on, at dawn that morning, two older Aboriginal men stand on the Cronulla beachfront footpath, observing white sails breaching the ocean horizon. Their mode of dress, shorts, shirt and double pluggers would suggest working class 21st century city dwellers, but the scene on the horizon, perhaps three centuries earlier. "What the fuck?" "Boat people." "Where's border security then?" "That's ya fuckin' Liberal Government for ya mate. Under the Libs, border security is just a joke." "But don't we have a Labor Government in power at the moment?" "Who gives a fat rat's rectum, mate, I'm not really into politics anyway." "Well, we knew they'd come eventually, best we assemble an emergency session of Parliament." "Yea! Implement the crisis management plan." The Council of Elders Inside a pub, somewhere nearby, a mob of senior Aboriginal men and women chatter noisily, a tension in the air, an urgency in every voice. "Quiet please!" an impressive looking man with long white hair, whom we shall now call Maitland, for want of knowledge better, yelled over the din. "We all know why we are here, they've come, just as we knew they would, and it's up to this group of Elders to decide what action to take, to implement the crisis management plan if needed." "Yea, the crisis management plan" came the collective response. "Where is the crisis management plan?" "Who's got the crisis management plan?" "Do we even have a crisis management plan?" "Of course we got a crisis management plan, you fuckin' idiot." "Well I've never seen it, where is it?" "Let's not get all worked up about the crisis management plan", Maitland interrupted in an effort to restore some semblance of order in the proceedings. "We'll only need to implement the plan if we fail to get rid of them, and that's just not an option." "Yea, send the bastards back where they came from." That shout from the crowd attracting a unanimous cheer. "Right" Maitland, who seemed to have established himself as the main spokesman or leader, shouted as he took control of proceedings. "It seems they intend coming ashore at Cronulla Beach later this morning..." Before he could utter another word, the mob again erupted in protest. It seemed from the shouting that there was a surf carnival scheduled for Cronulla Beach that day, and anything interrupting the surf carnival just was not an option either. "The surf carnival wont be affected."was Maitland's response. "We've been caught a bit by surprise, too late to stop them coming ashore. So here's the plan. First, we adjourne this meeting to the Cronulla Surf Club, and when they arrive we meet them and piss 'em off back where they come from." A roar of approval erupted. "We let 'em know they're not welcome here." he added, like any good politician using the momentum of the crowd to boost his popularity, his suggestion greeted with more cheering and applause. "And who do we send to meet them?" one asked. "Why, The Honorable Minister for Foreign Affairs, of course." came the quick and confident response. "And who might that be?" The question almost seemed to stump Maitland, as his eyes darted about the room almost in a panic search for somebody to step forward and claim the role. But standing tall, strong and prominently among the gathering, was one strikingly confident looking man, sporting a long ponytail. "It's Cecil of course", Maitland seizing the moment and pointing at the man who would be The Honourable One. It took him fairly by surprise, but the Honoured One rose proudly to the occasion on back of a tumultuous roar of approval. "And what if they won't take 'piss off' for an answer?" The question begged to be asked. "Do you think I'd send Cecil alone?" Maitland riding the punches and rolling off responses like a true professional. "Cecil will be riding down onto that beach today in 'Old Faithful'," the biggest roar of approval yet, indicating that this was a solid plan indeed, "with The Enforcer at the controls." He added, the response near enough bringing the damn roof down. It was time for The Council of Elders to adjourn to the Surf Clubrooms, and Cecil to make his rendezvous with The Enforcer and Old Faithful. Nuff said
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About the Book
Australia’s original inhabitants are acknowledged as the oldest continuous living civilization known in the world, dating back some forty thousand years. Living in isolation of the rest of the world on their island continent, they evolved a unique culture of harmonious existence based on totally respected, strictly acknowledged territorial boundaries and mutually accepted laws, which were self-regulating. There was no need for governments, armies, police, or jails; and yet they lived a relatively peaceful existence. Anthropological evidence reveals the arrival of international migrants some four thousand years ago. This story explores the distinct possibility that this connection could have led to the introduction of advanced technology that, if adopted and exploited by the locals, would have resulted in a totally different Australia back in 1770 when Captain Cook arrived, intent on claiming this land for his king and country. Maitland sends Cecil along with The Enforcer and Old Faithful down onto the beach to greet the landing party and inform the good captain and his mates that they are not welcome and that perhaps it would be in their best interests to leave. But Cooky’s not having a bar of it, and, well, rather than spoil a good story . . . nuff said.
About the Author
Dr Bill, Published Author. 2012 burst onto the literary stage with his inspirational work, 'Taming The Ox Of The Mind Essence'. Wombat, more than just The Painter...Truly The Artist. Nuff said.