Category: Macca on Sundays

• Roofless but not hopeless in the outback: At the far-flung meeting point of NSW, Queensland and SA, a tiny roadhouse proved community spirit is alive and well. Mick, the proprietor of the Cameron Corner Store, recounted how a freak storm earlier in the week tore the iron roof clean off his pub. Rather than see their only watering hole shuttered, neighbors from stations 100 km around converged with tools, tarps and elbow grease. He laughed as he described serving ice-cold beers “under the biggest sky in Australia” that evening, locals and travelers all raising a glass amid bits of flapping tin. By next day, they’d patched the roof together out of salvaged iron and sheer determination. “We’re a tiny dot on the map, but everyone pitched in,” Mick said proudly. It was a portrait of bush camaraderie in crisis – equal parts hardship and heart – and by the sound of clinking glasses in the background, the Corner Store is back in business come rain, hail or shine.

• Digging up dinosaurs in Queensland: Out near Winton, QLD, an amateur paleontologist named Julie rang in positively bubbling with excitement from a fossil dig. She and a volunteer crew had just uncovered what they believe is a sizable sauropod bone, peeking from red earth that hasn’t seen daylight in millions of years. “It’s like unearthing a time capsule,” she told Macca, describing the careful work of brushing away sandstone to reveal the fossil’s honey-brown surface. The find – possibly a new species – is the talk of the town; locals have been stopping by the makeshift dig site to take a peek at Winton’s latest prehistoric resident. Macca was enthralled, peppering Julie with questions about how big the creature might have been. She joked that the outback’s ancient giants make her cattle back home “look like toy dinosaurs.” The call offered a sense of real-life Jurassic Park in cattle country – science and history entwined under the big Queensland sky, with Julie’s grin practically audible as she invited Macca out west to see the discovery for himself.

• Sweet start to the cane season: Further north in the cane country of Queensland, Gary – a fourth-generation grower in the Burdekin – gave a lively report on the first crush of the sugarcane harvest. At first light a few days ago, Gary fired up his harvester to begin cutting the season’s inaugural paddock of tall, green cane. By mid-morning, the local mill’s stacks were puffing out sweet-scented steam. “You can smell the molasses in town, Macca – sweetest smell on earth if you ask me,” he chuckled. He painted a rich picture of the northern winter routine: cane trains trundling along narrow tracks, cane fires crackling at dusk (“just a quick burn to take the trash off before harvest”) and everyone from truck drivers to mill workers gearing up for months of long shifts. A decent wet season earlier in the year means a bumper crop, and Gary’s optimistic this could be their best harvest in over a decade. Macca could almost taste the sugar in the air as he congratulated Gary, reminiscing about past visits to cane country and the sight of “flames dancing along the rows at night.” It was a sensory slice of rural life that brought a dose of Queensland sunshine into the studio.

• Birds flock to a desert lake: From Marree, SA, charter pilot Trevor called in with an awe-inspiring update on Kati Thanda–Lake Eyre, which months after rare rains is now a temporary oasis in the desert. “It’s an inland sea out there, Macca – water as far as you can see,” he said, describing the view from his Cessna. He’s been flying sightseers over the lake’s glimmering expanse and was elated to report thousands of waterbirds have made it their home. Huge flocks of pelicans in V-formation are cruising over mirror-like waters, and down below, the shoreline is peppered with black swans, gulls and even duck species rarely seen in the interior. Trevor recounted one sunset landing where he was greeted by the distant din of birds – a wild, joyous noise in a place that was cracked saltpan not long ago. The normally quiet outback pub at Marree is bustling with tourists who’ve driven up for a glimpse of the phenomenon. “Last time the lake filled, it was 2019 – we don’t take this for granted,” he noted. Macca marveled at nature’s spectacle, reflecting on how a flood hundreds of kilometers away can bring life to the heart of the continent. Trevor’s report gave everyone listening a mental postcard of shimmering waters and whirring wings in the middle of Australia’s arid expanse – a reminder that even the driest regions can spring to life in the most dramatic way.

• Hello from the Great Wall: Perhaps the most far-flung call of the morning came from near the Great Wall of China, where a Brisbane couple, Tracy and Dave, decided to start their Sunday with Macca. In a scratchy but enthusiastic line from a village outside Beijing, they explained they’ve been overlanding through Asia in a trusty 4WD for the past four months – and never miss a show thanks to patchy hotel Wi-Fi and a bit of luck. “We’ve got Australia All Over playing under the shadow of the Great Wall,” Dave laughed, saying it was surreal to hear familiar accents while overlooking such an iconic scene. The pair had woken up before dawn to hike a quiet section of the wall, thermos of tea in hand, and couldn’t resist phoning in to share the moment. Tracy described the sun rising over the wall’s winding ridges and how, despite being thousands of kilometers from home, “we feel like we’ve got a bit of Australia with us each Sunday.” They’ve been keeping a journal of friendly faces and curious questions encountered on their journey (including a Chinese truck driver who was astonished to hear an Aussie radio show playing in the background). Macca was tickled and declared it a highlight to have the Great Wall join the program’s long list of outside broadcasts – if only by phone. Before signing off, the couple gave a hearty zàijiàn (goodbye) to Australia and promised to ring again from wherever the road takes them next. It was a delightfully all over moment that shrank the world for a few minutes, connecting listeners at home to two adventurers on the other side of the globe.

Other calls included:

• Pumpkins on a roll: A caller from Goomeri, QLD celebrated her town’s famed Pumpkin Festival held last weekend. She painted a hilarious scene of dozens of bright orange pumpkins careening down Policeman’s Hill in the annual pumpkin roll, with locals cheering like it was the Melbourne Cup. The whole town turned out in good humor – kids in pumpkin costumes, pumpkin scones in the CWA tent, and visitors from afar learning how to roll a squash with just the right flick of the wrist. It was country quirk at its finest, and even Macca could be heard grinning at the mental image of rogue pumpkins bouncing through the crowd.
• Pearls and whale sharks: Up in Broome, WA, a pearl diver shared an awe-struck account of an underwater visitor that stopped by during his morning dive. While checking oyster lines in the clear waters of Roebuck Bay, he suddenly found himself shadowed by a gentle giant – a whale shark gliding slowly past. “Big as a bus and utterly beautiful,” he said of the surprise encounter, noting it’s early in the season for the world’s largest fish to be in close to town. The diver swore even his oysters seemed impressed by their colossal company. He took it as a good omen for the pearling season and invited Macca (half-jokingly) up to Broome “to help shuck a few” if he fancied an adventure.
• Southern lights: From Bruny Island, TAS came news of the Aurora Australis putting on a midnight show earlier in the week. A stargazer phoned in to describe green and pink ribbons of light dancing on the southern horizon – so vivid that even long-time locals grabbed their coats to step outside and watch in wonder. “It was like the sky was waving the Aussie flag in neon,” the caller laughed, noting that the aurora’s magic made the chilly 2 a.m. air well worth braving. The celestial spectacle was brief but breathtaking, and Macca mused that one day he’d love to see the “Southern Lights” for himself, preferably with a warm thermos in hand.
• Bush verse at dawn: The program closed on a poetic note thanks to a listener’s bush poem faxed from the Snowy Mountains. In just a dozen plain-spoken lines, a retired stockman named Clarrie evoked the bite of a winter pre-dawn – frost on the paddocks, a billy boiling over a campfire, and the first rays of sun catching the gumtrees. The poem’s humble homage to cold mornings and warm hearts brought a reflective hush over the airwaves.

Listen to the podcast episode here.

Disclaimer: Brisbane Suburbs Online News has no affiliation with Ian McNamara or the “Australia All Over Show.” This weekly review is an attempt to share the wonderful stories that Ian broadcasts each week and add value to what is a smorgasbord of great insights. 

• One of the first calls came from flood-weary Kempsey on the NSW mid-north coast, where heavy rain last week sent the Macleay River over its levee. A local café owner described the town’s sodden CBD on Friday: waist-deep water in the streets, supermarket shutters down, and volunteers ferrying elderly residents to higher ground by tinny. By Saturday afternoon the power was finally back on – and she flung open her doors immediately. “No one else was open and people were hungry,” she laughed, recounting how she served coffee by gas burner and meat pies by candlelight to a crowd of mud-splattered locals. Despite the damage (muddy floors, waterlogged fridges), her voice brimmed with optimism. “We’re a tough little town – we’ll mop up and get on with it,” she insisted, thanking the SES and “mud army” of neighbors who turned up with mops and muffins. It was a portrait of community spirit in crisis, painted in equal parts hardship and heart.

• In a completely different scene, a call from the Sydney Writers’ Festival captured a cultural high. Ange – a first-time caller and an aspiring novelist – phoned in from a buzzing Wharf Theatre at Walsh Bay. She had just stepped off stage from a dawn poetry reading and was still riding the excitement. “It’s like a rock concert for book lovers,” she said of the festival, describing crowds huddled under umbrellas between venues (a drizzly Sydney morning didn’t dampen anyone’s enthusiasm). The theme this year was “In This Together,” and Ange noted how fitting it felt: bestselling authors, local poets, and readers shoulder-to-shoulder, swapping stories in the rain. She recounted a magical Festival moment the night before – an open-air yarning circle led by First Nations storytellers, flames crackling in a fire pit as ancient and new tales intertwined. Macca chuckled that she was “broadcasting from literary ground zero,” and Ange admitted she’d grown up listening to the show from country NSW. Her call offered a joyful glimpse into Australia’s literary heart, bridging city and bush through shared love of story.

• Heading west, a grain grower in Western Australia’s wheatbelt phoned in from a tractor cab, giving a stark paddock update. He was dry-sowing wheat into parched red soil on a farm near Mingenew, north of Perth. After a promising early April drizzle, not a drop had fallen in weeks. “We’re planting on a promise and a prayer,” he said wryly, running 12-metre bars through powdery topsoil. He’s putting in 80 kilograms of seed per hectare with minimal fertiliser – “no point in wasting the good stuff if the rain won’t come,” he noted. Some neighbours have held off planting altogether, but his attitude was pragmatic. By his calculation, if a decent front doesn’t sweep through by mid-June, the canola and wheat won’t sprout at all. “We’ll know by the winter solstice who bet right and who bet wrong,” he told Macca, his tone equal parts concern and dry humour. The image of WA’s broadacre farmers gambling on weather – silos empty, fields seeded in hope – spoke to the quiet tension of the season.

• From south-western Queensland, a much more dire tale of weather came through. A cattlewoman near Charleville shared that her family station hasn’t seen proper rain since January. Now early winter, the Mitchell grass plains have crisped to brown stubble and the waterholes are nearly dust. Each morning she’s out in a paddock of gidgee trees, chainsaw in hand – “cutting mulga branches for the hungry stock,” she explained – a backbreaking ritual to provide fodder when the grass is gone. She’s also trucking in cottonseed and hay bales from the coast at exorbitant cost. Calves are being weaned early and weaker cattle sold off because there’s simply nothing left to eat. “You either destock or watch them starve – that’s the choice,” she said matter-of-factly. Her voice carried fatigue but also resolve. After surviving the 2019 drought, she’s learned to plan for the worst; their station’s dam is now just a cracked bowl of clay, and they’ve begun drilling a new bore deeper into the Great Artesian Basin in hopes of tapping drinkable water. Macca listened in sympathetic silence as she described the red haze of dust that often closes in by dusk. Still, she ended on a determined note: “This isn’t our first dry rodeo. The season will turn – and when it does, we’ll still be here.” It was a sobering reminder of the drought’s human toll, straight from the heart of cattle country.

• From the Northern Territory came a brighter update – the annual migration northward is in full swing, not of animals but of grey nomads. The manager of the iconic Daly Waters Pub, off the Stuart Highway, called in to report that their caravan park is “overflowing with southerners in shorts and sunnies.” He’s seeing one of the biggest early-season turnouts in years: dozens of caravans and campervans rolling in each day now that the dry season’s begun up Top End. “It’s only May, but you’d think it was July up here,” he laughed, describing the cheerful chaos of happy hour the night before. The pub’s nightly “Beef ‘n’ Barra” barbecue was sold out by 5pm as travellers packed the beer garden to swap road stories. The caller reckoned many retirees hit the road extra early this year, keen to escape chilly southern weather or just itching for adventure after a few quieter years. He told a charming story of one couple from Geelong who showed up with an eight-month-old kelpie pup and a homemade map of Australia they’re filling in with marker as they go – Daly Waters was a big red star on that map. Macca could hear the buzz of evening country music in the background as the publican quipped, “Mate, the birds are back on the wire – you can tell the season’s turned when every site’s filled with a caravan and a clothesline.” The influx of nomads means a boost for outback roadhouses like his, and his pride in offering a warm welcome up north was evident.

• Meanwhile, an utterly remote form of connection was highlighted by a call from Alice Springs. An amateur radio operator named Steve described how he runs a nightly HF radio “sked” (schedule) for folks in the bush who live beyond phone reception. Every evening at 7 o’clock sharp, Steve’s voice crackles out across the continent on the shortwave band, and stations from lonely cattle properties and remote national park outposts call in to check on each other. He’s been volunteering as a net controller for years, linking far-flung Australians through the radio waves. “When you’re 500 kilometres from the nearest town, a friendly voice means the world,” he told Macca. He shared an example from last week: a young governess on a Kimberley station was feeling isolated until she hopped on the nightly sked and found camaraderie with strangers-turned-friends across the Outback. Steve chuckled that sometimes the biggest challenge is the wildlife – “I’ve had dingoes howl back at my signal and geckos crawl into the radio shack, but we always manage to make our roll call,” he said. His story was a nod to the old-school bush communications that still thrive in the digital age – a blend of nostalgia and practicality that clearly struck a chord with listeners.

• A particularly special phone connection came from far, far overseas – Antarctica, in fact. In what felt like a live cross to another planet, Macca spoke with an expeditioner calling from Casey Station, where it was still pre-dawn and bitterly cold. The caller, a weather technician from Brisbane on a year-long posting, painted a vivid picture of life at 66 degrees south of the equator. “The sun set in early May and won’t be back for weeks,” she said, describing how the 19 crew members are coping with continual darkness and temperatures down to –20°C. Her team had just celebrated “Midwinter Day” a bit early with a plunge into the icy ocean (each person dunked into a hole cut in the sea ice, attached to a safety line while colleagues stood by with hot toddies and towels). She laughed recounting the shrieks as “even the penguins looked startled by the crazy Aussies.” Despite the harsh conditions, morale at Casey was high – they’ve been holding regular trivia nights, brewing their own beer, and even tuning in to Macca’s show on Sundays (albeit via patchy internet) as a taste of home. She described stepping outside at noon under aurora-lit skies, the Milky Way swirling overhead in green and purple curtains – a sight few of us will ever witness. Before signing off, she wished her mum a happy birthday back in Australia. The line from Antarctica was crystal clear, and for a few minutes, the entire country was connected to a tiny outpost on the frozen ocean’s edge.

Other calls included:

• Two young blokes undertaking a quirky tractor trek for charity. They rang in from a roadside camp on the Nullarbor Plain, having departed Perth on vintage 1950s tractors en route to Sydney. Topping out at 20 km/h, they’re raising money for the Royal Flying Doctor Service and “raising eyebrows on the highway” as one joked. “We get a toot from every road train,” he said. At night they’re camping under the stars beside their rumbling old machines. By the time they reach Sydney (weeks behind schedule, no doubt), they hope to have proved that “slow and steady can do a world of good.”
• A listener’s email gem shed light on an Aussie icon: the word “Akubra,” as in the famous hat, comes from an Aboriginal word believed to mean “head covering.” Macca was tickled by this trivia – “I never knew that!” he exclaimed – noting how a piece of Indigenous language lives on atop many a sunburnt face. (Linguists debate the exact origin, the emailer admitted, but it’s a good yarn regardless.)
• An excited whale-watcher from Eden, NSW reported the first humpback whales of the season heading north. She spotted two big spouts off Twofold Bay at dawn on Saturday – an early start to the annual migration. “They’re on their way to Queensland, and we’re the welcoming committee down here,” she laughed. The sight of those tail flukes had the volunteers at Eden’s lookout ecstatic; the caller joked they nearly spilled their thermos tea as the whales breached. It was a sure sign that winter’s on the doorstep and the humpbacks are highway-bound for warmer waters.
• A bush poetry moment came when a retired stockman from Longreach faxed in a short poem that Macca read on air. In just a dozen plain-spoken lines, the poem reminisced about “the smell of wattle after rain” and “campfire embers at midnight,” bringing a reflective hush over the airwaves. It was a humble, heartfelt piece that celebrated resilience through hard times – a fitting epilogue to a morning of shared stories from all over.

Listen to the podcast episode here.

Disclaimer: Brisbane Suburbs Online News has no affiliation with Ian McNamara or the “Australia All Over Show.” This weekly review is an attempt to share the wonderful stories that Ian broadcasts each week and add value to what is a smorgasbord of great insights. 

This week’s Australia All Over fell on Mother’s Day, and the program was as warm and down-to-earth as ever. Macca moved easily between hearty bush yarns and heartfelt tributes, creating a Sunday mosaic of life around the nation. From cattle musters under the outback sun to a surprise call from an Aussie truckie on a U.S. highway – and even an in-studio serenade by a beloved children’s entertainer – the show delivered a rich tapestry of Australian voices and stories, all threaded with the day’s family spirit.

• Big muster in Cloncurry: The morning kicked off with a call from a cattleman in Cloncurry, northwest Queensland, who was in the thick of a station muster. He reported that a generous wet season had left knee-high grass across his paddocks – welcome feed for his Brahmans after years of drought. With a team of stockmen on trail bikes and a chopper buzzing overhead, they were rounding up about 800 head of cattle for the first weaner sale of the year. He chuckled that his wife was spending her Mother’s Day morning driving the ute as the makeshift “smoko truck”, delivering tea and sandwiches to the muster crew. “She’s the best bush mum there is – keeping us fed and the herd moving,” he said proudly. The call painted a classic outback scene of family teamwork, dust, and determination under the Queensland sun.

• Honey flow down south: From central Victoria, a beekeeper near Bendigo rang in with sweet news. He’s managing 150 hives in the ironbark country and described an unexpected bumper autumn honey flow this year. An unseasonably warm April kept the native wildflowers blooming, so his bees packed away a late crop of dark, rich honey. “The red gum nectar came in thick – dark and caramel-like, with a hint of eucalyptus,” he said, clearly pleased. Now, with chilly nights creeping in, he’s prepping the hives for winter – insulating boxes and moving them out of frost hollows. The beekeeper noted the first light frost silvered his paddocks last week, which is the cue for him to curtail hive inspections. “Bees get cranky when the frost hits, like clockwork,” he laughed. His call blended practical bush know-how (like wrapping hives in itsy-bitsy woollen blankets, Macca joked) with a real pride in living off nature’s rhythms.

• Hello from the USA: In a memorable mid-show surprise, a call came all the way from the United States. An Aussie long-haul truck driver named Colin – originally from Toowoomba – phoned in from a truck stop on Route 66 in Oklahoma. It was early evening there, and Colin had pulled over his 18-wheeler “just to say g’day on Mother’s Day” back home. He painted a vivid picture of trucking American-style: endless interstate highways, big rigs with sleepers “the size of a Sydney studio apartment,” and roadside diners serving chicken-fried steak instead of meat pies. He joked about driving on the “wrong” side of the road at 110 km/h through the prairies (“you get used to it, but I still reach for the blinker with the wrong hand”). Colin also shared that he streams ABC online to stave off homesickness on his 10-hour drives. “Hearing Macca and the callers, it’s like I’ve got a bit of Australia in the cab with me,” he said. Before signing off, he gave a shout-out to his mum back in Queensland, promising he’d video-call her that night. The call captured the program’s all-over reach – even from half a world away, an Aussie voice found its way home to Macca on Sunday morning.

• In-studio with Don Spencer: Midway through the show, Macca welcomed a special guest into the studio – Don Spencer OAM, the famed singer-songwriter and children’s entertainer (and a familiar friend to generations of Play School kids). At 86, Don’s energy and love of music are undimmed. He chatted with Macca about his lifelong mission to bring music into kids’ lives, especially through the Australian Children’s Music Foundation he founded. Don reminisced about the early days – from growing up on a farm learning bush ballads, to strumming his guitar on Play School in the 1960s. With a gentle laugh, he recounted how a song about a kangaroo got him his first big break (“I figured if I sang about joeys and billabongs, kids would listen – and they did!”). Don even treated listeners to a few lines of his new song “Hold On To Your Dream,” a tender tune encouraging young Aussies to persevere in tough times. He picked up Macca’s studio guitar and, in a warm, slightly gravelly voice, sang a chorus that had toes tapping across the country. By the end of his segment, Don had shared both music and memories – including a touching tribute to his own mum, who bought him his very first guitar decades ago. The live studio chat added a lovely dash of nostalgia and inspiration to the morning’s parade of callers.

• Camel trouble in the Territory: From the Northern Territory came a call that had everyone listening in amazement (and a few chuckling). A station owner outside Alice Springs rang up to report an invasion of sorts – by camels. After good rains in the outback, a mob of feral camels had roamed onto his property, drawn by the only permanent water for miles. “I woke up to find about 20 camels crowding our bore drain like it was a desert oasis,” he said. The caller described the scene: gangly silhouettes emerging from dawn mist, jostling with his cattle at the trough. It wasn’t all harmless either – the hefty creatures had knocked down a fence or two and guzzled precious water meant for livestock. In true Territory fashion, he and a neighboring stockman hopped in the ute and shooed the camels off with a lot of horn-honking (and maybe a well-aimed skyward shotgun blast or two). “They run in slow motion, mate – it’s like a weird dream seeing camels gallop off into the scrub,” he laughed. The station owner noted that feral camels have been on the move with the season’s growth, sometimes causing havoc for pastoralists. His yarn was equal parts comedy and bush reality, and as Macca quipped, “only in Australia would a Sunday morning chat about camel traffic jams make perfect sense.”

• A Mother’s Day poem on air: Fittingly, the program’s most tender moment came toward the end, thanks to an 87-year-old bush poet from the NSW Riverina. Phyllis from Griffith phoned in to share a short poem she’d written as a tribute to mothers in the bush. In a steady, lilting voice, she recited verses that took listeners back in time: morning dew on the wheat, a mother’s hands lighting the wood stove, children’s laughter echoing in a one-room schoolhouse. Her poem honored the quiet, relentless work of country mums – “the tea-and-toast queens of the outback, holding the family together.” One line that lingered in the air was, “She fed the poddy lamb at dawn, then fed her family at dusk – a day’s work never done, powered by a mother’s love.” As she finished, Phyllis wished all the mums listening a happy Mother’s Day, adding with a chuckle, “Don’t forget to give Mum a call, okay?” The studio fell silent for a moment – even Macca was clearly moved – before he thanked her for a beautiful contribution.

Other calls included:

• A fun run in full swing: A quick check-in from Melbourne revealed thousands of pink-clad participants flooding the parks for the annual Mother’s Day Classic fun run. The event organizer breathlessly reported a record turnout at sunrise – runners and walkers honoring loved ones and raising funds for breast cancer research. “There’s a sea of pink tutus and big smiles here, Macca!” she shouted over the cheerful hubbub.
• First frost down south: A weather watcher in Liawenee, Tasmania (one of the coldest spots in the country) called to confirm that winter is knocking. He measured a pre-dawn low of -1°C, leaving a glitter of frost over the paddocks. “Brass monkeys, mate – the dog’s water bowl was iced over,” he laughed, noting that the wood heater was cranked up and keeping the shack cosy for his wife on Mother’s Day.
•  Tuna tales from SA: A fisherman from Port Lincoln, SA gave a brief update on the tuna season offshore. It’s been a ripper season for Southern Bluefin – he himself landed a 75-kg tuna last week. He joked that since he couldn’t be with his mum in Adelaide that day, he sent her a photo of the massive fish and promised her some prime fillets. “That’s one way to do Mother’s Day brekkie – tuna steaks on the barbie!” he quipped, signing off with a laugh.

Listen to the podcast episode here.

Disclaimer: Brisbane Suburbs Online News has no affiliation with Ian McNamara or the “Australia All Over Show.” This weekly review is an attempt to share the wonderful stories that Ian broadcasts each week and add value to what is a smorgasbord of great insights. 

This week’s Australia All Over brought in the kind of grounded, deeply regional stories that form the show’s backbone. From dry paddocks and long fence lines to an old bread truck turned tool library, the episode had a practical tone—interrupted only briefly by a poem, a piano, and a passionate runner asking Australians to show up.

• A notable call came from Julian, a 57-year-old IT professional from Sydney, who spoke about his routine of running a half marathon every month as a personal challenge. He said he wasn’t doing it competitively—“just me and the stopwatch”—but used the runs to keep fit and stay grounded. More importantly, he used the segment to issue a public call for more Australians to volunteer. “We’ve got millions of people with time and skills who aren’t doing anything with them,” he said. He encouraged people in their 40s, 50s and 60s to look at community groups that need help—particularly aged care, youth mentoring, SES, and local events. “You don’t have to change the world—just be someone people can count on,” he said plainly. It was one of the more direct and purposeful calls of the morning—delivered without fanfare but hard to forget.

• Elsewhere, a grazier from Walgett, NSW described walking the edge of his last full dam and finding it almost dry, weeks before winter. He gave a clinical description: cracked banks, goat tracks leading in, and the sound of frogs gone silent. His bore water was brackish, good enough for sheep but too harsh for young calves. He was carting 1,000 litres at a time, every second day, to keep up. After three years of flood and one of dry, he said this was the kind of season that quietly breaks your back if you’re not watching.

• From Marree, SA, a fencing contractor detailed his work patching sections of the Dog Fence, especially in spots where floodwaters had twisted mesh or loosened tie wires. He mentioned the surprising uptick in wild dog sightings this autumn and described the scent trails that lure them through gaps—mostly roo carcasses and feral pig offal. He’s using heavier pickets and double tying the joins. “You can’t out-build nature,” he said, “but you can slow it down.”

• A Horsham grain grower checking his seed drill phoned in with an update on wheat sowing—going in dry, 80 kg/ha, with trifluralin on board. His gear had just been re-rigged after a bearing collapse last year. He said three of his neighbours were still hesitating, waiting for a break in the weather. “We’ll know in six weeks who bet wrong,” he added.

• A banana grower near Carnarvon, WA, reported improved results using shade cloth and bunch covers to control ripening and wind damage. His crop, sold through a local delivery run, is packed in re-used cartons and mostly bought by small shops. “No cold chain, no shrinkage,” he said.

• One inventive segment came from Coffs Harbour, where a retired mechanic has turned a decommissioned bread van into a mobile tool library. The van houses drills, clamps, saws, and chargers, all lent out to men’s sheds and small DIY groups. “People need tools more than advice,” he said. The whole operation runs off two marine batteries and a solar panel.

From Winton, QLD, a schoolteacher called in about her students’ homemade weather stations. Built from PVC pipe and Arduino boards, the sensors were recording data every 12 hours and being compared to Bureau forecasts. “Kids trust real numbers. They’ll believe a thermometer faster than a whiteboard,” she said.

• Other calls included:
  • A Mount Gambier dairy farmer using pasture mapping apps to schedule rotations based on real-time dry matter readings.
  • A Castlemaine woman who sorts her firewood stacks by species and purpose, with chalk labels for ironbark (cold nights), redgum (fast start), and box (general use).
  • A Goolwa rail historian cataloguing dozens of NSWGR depot library books, with thumb-worn covers and pencilled-out borrow slips.
  • A Bungendore researcher recording oral histories of shearer’s cooks, including one woman who worked 46 sheds before age 40 and never lost a pot roast to dust.
  • The show closed with a final stanza from a 93-year-old bush poet in Longreach, recalling frost-bitten boots, a drover’s grin, and the clink of enamel mugs before dawn.

Listen to the podcast episode here.

Disclaimer: Brisbane Suburbs Online News has no affiliation with Ian McNamara or the “Australia All Over Show.” This weekly review is an attempt to share the wonderful stories that Ian broadcasts each week and add value to what is a smorgasbord of great insights. 

• The morning began with a call from north of Bourke, where Clem, a fencing contractor, was on day three of replacing six kilometres of boundary fence torn apart by floodwaters in February. He described in detail how the old star pickets had folded under debris—mostly timber and grass washed in from upstream—and how he’d begun spacing out new galvanised pickets and triple-running plain wire, using strainers reinforced with ironbark stays. He said he and his son were working from sun-up to sundown, trying to finish before cold mornings set in. When asked about ferals, Clem said wild pigs had torn through parts of the old fence, “like they owned the place,” but newer wiring and solar gates were holding them out for now. His matter-of-fact tone underscored just how routine big repairs have become across the floodplain.

• A call from Narrandera, NSW came from a citrus grower beginning the Valencia harvest after a warm, dry end to summer. She reported a better-than-expected yield, but noted that smaller fruit size and high freight costs were cutting into profits. She explained how they use handheld refractometers to check sugar levels and pick by hand to avoid bruising. She also mentioned the return of picker shortages, saying her family’s relying heavily on grey nomads and local teenagers. “We’re not fussy—we just need hands and hats,” she said. This brief but concrete update painted a clear picture of small-scale fruit farming in a challenging year.

• In a more unusual segment, a listener from Mount Barker, SA, described how he’d recently moved an upright piano from his grandmother’s house into a converted shearing shed on his property. He gave a precise account of how he and his brother constructed a timber sled using fence posts and a steel winch, then slid the piano down a ramp and loaded it onto a tandem trailer. The whole project took two afternoons and three fridge dollies. Now installed in the shed, the piano will be used for monthly folk nights with neighbours. “It’s a bit out of tune,” he said, “but no one here minds.”

• A farmer outside Deniliquin phoned in to report on a trial of mixed cover cropping in fallow paddocks. He had recently sown a mix of vetch, oats, tillage radish, and crimson clover, hoping to improve organic matter and suppress ryegrass. He explained how they’d rolled the seed mix in with a cultipacker behind a light disc and said early results were promising: good germination and less weed pressure than last year’s fallow. He added that his agronomist is planning to graze sheep on the stand in late winter before terminating it ahead of spring planting. This kind of rotational, multispecies grazing update—practical, dry and useful—was the type of call bush farmers tune in for.

• From Bunbury, WA, a retired brickie gave a quick run-through of how he uses leftover scaffolding planks and concrete bricks to build raised garden beds for mates on pensioner blocks. “Four bricks, one plank, repeat,” he said, adding that he’s built twelve beds across four homes in his neighbourhood. The caller said he sources soil from the local tip’s green waste recycling depot and gets seedlings cheap from the Lions Club markets. His motto: “No one should be too broke to grow.”

• One of the more entertaining calls came from a horse transport driver somewhere near Roma, QLD, who phoned in during a stopover to stretch his legs. He was on a four-day run carting six show horses from Tamworth to Mount Isa for a rodeo clinic. He explained how each horse was given its own feed bay, padded sides, and 3-hour rest intervals. “It’s not just a float—it’s a stable on wheels,” he said. He described how the horses react to traffic noise differently—some sleep standing, others sway with every corner. The transport rig runs a light spray system to keep dust down and a side fan system powered by an inverter. It was a rare insight into the logistics of long-distance animal transport done properly.

• A woman in Castlemaine, Victoria rang in to describe her firewood rotation system, which uses a combination of ironbark, box and redgum across three drying racks. She detailed how she stacks by species and burn time—ironbark for the coldest nights, box for regular use, and redgum for kindling or fast-start fires. Each load is dated with chalk. She mentioned that she processes most of her own wood with a hired log splitter, after a friendly tree lopper drops off clean cuts. “I’ve got firewood dated out to 2027,” she laughed.

@highcountrysnakecatcher Firewood, redgum for the win! #firewood #woodheat #eucalyptuscamaldulensis #redgum #stihl660 #stihl #warmth #coldweather #winter #highcountry #victoria #australia ♬ Something in the Orange (Z&E's Version) – Zach Bryan

• From Bridport, Tasmania, a call came in from a volunteer involved in restoring the town’s old surf club hall, recently repurposed as a community shed. She described how volunteers were using salvaged weatherboards from a nearby demolition site and had installed a new corrugated roof with donated insulation from a local builder. The building, which once hosted lifesaving classes, is now used weekly for men’s shed meetings, knife-making demonstrations, and ukulele practice. “We’ve kept the sea breeze but added power points,” she said.

• Later in the program, a call from Cunnamulla came from a bloke who’d just completed 20,000 km in a 1981 Toyota LandCruiser, circumnavigating Australia. He gave a short field report on tyre pressure, road conditions, and fuel pricing from Ceduna to Kununurra. He also mentioned his custom water tank setup, which held 70 litres under the tray and was refilled mostly via campgrounds and filtered creeks. “I did the whole thing solo—no trailer, no fridge. Just me, a swag, and the weather band on the radio,” he said. Macca asked where he slept most. “Gravel pits, mostly. And one tennis court.”

• The episode ended with a brief but rich update from a historian in Gundagai, who’s been compiling local letters from the 1891 shearers’ strike. He read from one account by a station cook describing a week of feeding 60 men on damper, mutton and cold black tea. The researcher said he’s working on a short publication that includes never-before-published union minutes and anecdotes from station hands who walked off the job. “It’s not textbook history—it’s muddy-boot stuff,” he said.

Listen to the podcast episode here.

Disclaimer: Brisbane Suburbs Online News has no affiliation with Ian McNamara or the “Australia All Over Show.” This weekly review is an attempt to share the wonderful stories that Ian broadcasts each week and add value to what is a smorgasbord of great insights.