Out On The River With Oscar W

 ​​Back in 1887 Franz Oscar Wallin, henceforth known as Charlie, arrived in Australia after spent from ages 14 to 19 in the Swedish Navy.  On his way home from the Navy he got distracted by the merchant navy, hopped on board a ship to Australia, and never went home.  He settled in on the Murray River where he built and ran a fleet of paddle steamers.

Charles and his wife Daisy had three children, of whom Oscar was the only one to survive past infancy. Charles had high hopes of young Oscar continuing the family business and named his newest paddle steamer 'Oscar W' after the boy.  1914 rolled around and young Iscar went off to war and never came home but the little paddle steamer that bore his name survived the advent of railways and the internal combustion engine and became a pleasure craft.  Crewed by a passionate team of volunteers, the Oscar W takes tourists out for joy rides on the river between the barrages and Milang. 

Seeing as I was planning to ride my bike along the river but I wasn't yet achieving much travel under my own steam, I figured I may as well get out on the river under someone else's steam. Roger packed a picnic and on the dot of 4pm I emailed my boss: "No more Saturday work for me, I'm off to catch a paddle steamer!" And off we went for the Oscar W's sunset cruise, BYO picnic.

Paddles in action.

"Can I take a photo of you?  I took one of you in the same spot two years ago."  "Sure!  Come back in two years and take another one.  I'll be here."

Distinctive paddle-steamer wake.

A wooden ship with a fire in its belly: what could possibly go wrong?

We had a fine time, aided by the crew of helpful volunteers and some colourful crocheted lap blankets to ward off the cold.  Unfortunately we broke our single wine glass, butat least that Roger had used it first otherwise he would have been reduced to swigging from the bottle.

Flying the flag of the lower Murray.

I wonder what Oscar's grieving parents would have thought had they known that the little ship that carried his name would continue plying the river for well over 110 years;  that Oscar's story would be told to every boatload of tourists on every trip;  and that some of the Oscar W volunteers would find their way across the world to seek out Oscar's grave in Flanders and say 'G'day', telling him a tale or two about his sturdy little namesake.

I think they'd be pleased.