Adventures in the Fishmobile
Published in RACT Motor News, 2006.
Photograph © Peter Morse 2006
The fishmobile doesn't seem particularly undersized in Tassie. It's a Toyota Starlet with a perfectly adequate four-cylinder engine. But place it with a parade of four-wheel-drives, caravans and roadtrains in the outback, and it looks ridiculous!
People think my car is adorable and arty but… (how can I put this politely) …lacking in stamina? When I announce my intention to drive it across Australia, the reactions are dubious. 'The car will never make it' (much dire head-shaking). 'It'll never get up the hills' (…hills? I thought the mainland was flat?). 'Better put a sticker on the roof so the helicopters can find you'. Or, 'get a GPS tracking device and emergency flares'. Concerned family and friends erupt in a flurry of alarm at the thought of me stranded in the desert dying a nasty death of dehydration, fishmobile cute but useless at my side.
Undeterred, I embark on my research, armed with a superb road atlas from the excellent RACT shop. It shows the location of every rest spot, campsite, petrol pump and telephone en route. And (very important) the toilets. I check out the RACT website, which is even more impressive than the atlas, and plan my itinerary using its online maps and estimated travel times.
The highways, I reason, are all tarred these days. I'll be on the main drag so won't need spare fuel or survival rations. I'll have the car fully serviced (by my RACT approved repairer, of course), practise tyre-changing and invest in some hefty tools for DIY emergency repairs. I'll get an RACT immobiliser fitted to avert opportunists likely to leave me car-less in the wilderness. Supposing anyone is silly enough to steal a car with flamboyant fish stickers all over it!
And it's tourist season. Kindly grey nomads will no doubt revive me and assist with blowouts if I look sufficiently lost and woeful. And if the worst happens and I do break down in the boondocks with not a good Samaritan in sight, I can call the trusty RACT (yes, even interstate) with my new extra-special-coverage mobile phone.
Six months and 10,000km later, the fishmobile and I are home. We watched sunset on Uluru, dodged crocs in Darwin and scooted through dinosaur country to tropical north Queensland. We sunned ourselves on Magnetic Island, where the fishmobile met its match among the mini mokes. We lounged on ferries and caught the legendary Ghan. We squeezed in fellow travellers at times (human ones, I mean), including their luggage. We even crossed the Sydney Harbour Bridge. It was by accident, and I was most embarrassed to have no change for the tolls, but it was worth the view!
Our presence attracted laughs and waves and much admiration, especially from those trundling along with house-sized caravans. 'How did you make it so far from Tasmania in that?!' They envied my small engine when petrol soared to $1.80 in the outback.
I didn't have to change any tyres, and I didn't have to call the RACT. My only near-mishap was neglecting to fill up when approaching Townsville due to overexcitement (fabulously photogenic vegetation). I drove for 60k's on 'empty' thinking how silly I'd feel telling my rescuer 'Erm, I forgot to put petrol in because I was looking at the flowers'. But the fishmobile runs on the sniff of a you-know-what, and delivered me to the next fuel stop in time.
Amazed family and friends continually exclaim at our joint stamina. Three cheers for the fishmobile! Viva la petit motor! So if you spot a white one with rising sun and leaping fish on the bonnet – that's my happy little car. Still with red dust in its crevices.
