The Patchewollock Pub, Patchewollock, Victoria

                Late on December 29th 1929 when a train pulled in to the station at the pub-less Mallee town of Patchewollock a car load of out-of-town plain-clothed narks was waiting in the shadows. They watched as a stack of crates of beer was unloaded from one of the railway wagons and when it was all done one of the D’s headed over and ‘chased’ the bloke in charge for 5 bottles of Melbourne Bitter and handed him a ten bob note. 

 Took the beers back to the car, and then returned with his civvied mates, busted Thomas Holland for sly grog selling and confiscated the town’s delivery of 1070 bottles of beer and 19 bottles of wine. Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year to you too! 

 A decade later even the local cops had changed their tune and admitted that sly-grogging was an out of control social menace and that the workers of the area deserved personal irrigation as much as did their crops. The local walloper testified to a hearing that there’d been 11 prosecutions in his 4½ years in the

area and that ‘an hotel would be an asset both from the police and public points of view.’ Neil Young, a local farmer led the campaign to replace the shady (not Steven) stills and sly-groggers with a respectable hotel. (and if you appreciate that comment I’m guessing you’re over 60). In a town of 714 voters, he rounded up 514 signatures on his petition for a pub and in 1939 a poll was taken. The electors of Patchewollock

voted 141 to 4 in favour of a watering hole. Finally the efforts of Young and the community triumphed and the next year Patchewollock got its pub. 

 Eric and his wife Belinda took over the Patche on January 1st this year. It’s his third and her first shot at running a country pub. His first was the fabled Gaffney’s Creek Hotel on the Upper Goulburn in Victoria, scene of any number of stunt rides up the near vertical slope from the river to the pub’s usually quagmire parking area. Eric bought the lease when he was 22 in 1984. 

“I was driving trucks and all the log drivers would stop there and it was busy, so it seemed like a good bet.” 

 It was but by the time the Gaffney’s Creek Pub hit the headlines big time - and for the last time in 1993 (see Sidebar) - Eric had taken over the lease of the hotel at Buxton, north of Marysville. He kept this one for fifteen years and had it during the fires of 2009. There’s an hilarious clip of him retelling the story of commandeering a bulldozer to cut a firebreak which saved a few houses and maybe the pub itself and then being threatened by local council with a charge of theft of the dozer. 

Click here for the Youtube Clip

Anyway Eric had another spell of truck driving but around mid-2021 he was pretty much over it and being away way too often and Belinda saw a notice on Facebook that the Patchewollock Pub was on the market. She sent Eric a link. It sounded the kind of thing they were looking for and pretty soon they headed out to check it out. Belinda: “We didn’t tell them who we were or that we were interested but we had a great night, really enjoyed the atmosphere and the locals and so when we got back home Eric contracted Bryce and Bec who had it and the rest is history.”

She continues: “It’s been a slog, I’m not going to lie. Everything was very basic and basic is okay but a lot of stuff needed fixing so we just got to work but the help we’ve had from the locals has been amazing.” 

 The pub has a unique square design with a yard in the centre. A good few years back a local - whose son, Noodles, later became the model for the silo art down the road – donated a pool to the community

and it got installed in the centre of the pub. Two local women taught the town’s kids to swim in that pool and when the previous owners decided it was too expensive to repair and maintain, and planned to fill it in, the community wasn’t too happy. Belinda and Eric had an idea and after the annual pre-winter firewood day when all the locals head bush with their trailers to harvest wood for the pub’s fires then come back to stack it and enjoy a sizzle and free beers, they suggested that the pool become the beneficiary of the weekly meat raffles. The locals embraced it and the pool should be ready to go in time for summer. 

 Whilst we’re chatting we’re joined by Robin, a hugely respected and loved local whose grandfather came home from war in 1919 and like all diggers was given 640 acres. His family came from just east of here so he had some experience on the land, so he succeeded where many others failed. Robin was born on the adjoining block and still lives on it. 

 He shares a story from the year before the Gaffneys Creek Pub went up when a bearing on a combine he was driving had an issue and not thinking too straight after 18 hours of harvesting he put his hand in the wrong place and the belt chewed off his fingers.

The heat cauterized the wounds – there was no blood - and his first thought was that he’d not be able to play his beloved guitar again. An ambulance was called and eventually the fingers were partially rebuilt. Robin went on to what the rest of the bar call ‘fame’ as the star of car and tourism adverts and he’s not backward in pressing the young blokes to take a bit of bloody notice of Work Place Safety protocols. 

 The evening rolls on, Belinda disappears into the kitchen to start doing the meals, Eric keeps everyone lubricated, Robin circulates and spreads good cheer and Noodles comes in along with a bunch of other farm boys and family groups. 

 There’s no gambling to disturb and networking, the catching up and the sharing of news and mutual support. A lot of the conversations turn to the music festival that’s being revived in October 14-16th after a Covid Hiatus and sorting out how everyone can be involved.

 

Oh, and you were probably wondering: Robin did master the guitar again and along with headliners like Mick Thomas (ex ‘Weddings, Parties, Anything’), Pete Denahy plus the General Jacksons, he’ll more than likely be strumming ‘n’ singing at some stage. 

 And that’s the over-riding impression you get of this place. Eighty-two years ago the foundations of this pub were laid due to the efforts of the community and today that same pub and community underpin each other. 

* Gaffney's Creek Footnote:

         Peter Gibb was a Victorian crim who, with another prisoner, Archie Butterley, in March 1993 blew out a second-floor security window of the Melbourne Remand Centre using explosive smuggled in by Heather Parker, a prison warder whom Gibb was behind-bars bonking at the time. Parker had planted a getaway car outside the MRC and was waiting in another car further up the road. 

Butterley busted a leg descending out the window on the classic rope of sheets. Gibb soon crashed the getaway car, hijacked a motorbike, crashed it also and then shot a pursuing cop, stole his revolver and escaped in (the front of) the police van. (This wasn’t organised crime). 

 The crims met up with Heather Parker, headed north-east and holed up in the Gaffney’s Creek Hotel where they hid the injured and badly bleeding Butterley in one of the rooms. Next morning they figured the best way to hide the blood stain trail from Butterley’s wounds was to torch their room before heading down river a bit where they were cornered near Jamieson. It didn’t end well - not at Gaffneys Creek where the fire escaped the room better and the entire pub burnt down. And not down the river where the crims were surrounded by the cops and came second in the shootout.

The pub's not been replaced but if you ever run into anyone who rode bikes back in the day, listen to their tales and just try not to shake your head.