“ and so it comes to pass that ocean will triumph over river, river over stream, stream over rivulet and rivulet over tear-duct!

…The pumps, mill, augurs and filters are still and quite for now; the shimmering stainless of the Unitanks rests!  It is  bewitching hour at Colonial Brewery…a beautiful and magical time. Midnight!  So, so, so, so, so, so still and silent (do you get my point?). The young bulls in the adjoining paddock, bathed in moonlit milk, nudge at each other’s loins challenging their peers to state their future qualifications  and verify their status within the herd. The spent malt tasted very good today….they like AltBier brew days!

There is just a hint, a whisper of breath out of the North-West…a hint of weather to come! But for now it remains still and quiet; although you can deceive yourself into hearing the rising swell at South Point, as many kilometers away as it might be!!  An owl in a nearby Mallee tree spies the deft movement of field mice, scurrying in anticipation towards the malt shed! His eyes widen with his own anticipation, and thinks to himself…”Who goes there? Who? Who? ” Yes this is a magical time indeed?

The surface of the dam is a mirror and the passing overhead clouds use the opportunity to pause, preen and pose! Can I adequately convey to you dear reader, what a hallowed piece of nature encloses the sanctum that is the edifice -Colonial Brewing Company. I doubt it!!?? But wait and pause, for I lament (a brewers lament perchance?) for I have not as yet introduced myself to you, and it is right and proper that I should!

Indeed, Gary, Gary, Gary, Gary, Gary (Please Note: Gary is non-gender specific), Gary, George and Rooprett are safely ensconced in their beds…and that leaves me – ‘Gary the White’ –  omnipresent and omniscient, to guard over Brewhouse and Bar. A brewery sentinel as it were…. a Beer Wraith!! I am the breath that the Gary’s, George and Rooprett draw in everyday as they go about their daily tasks. See Me, Hear Me, Smell Me not…but FEEL me they do! !! And I have been tasked - under cover and cloak of darkness - to surreptitiously reveal to you dear reader, piece by piece, scene by scene, week by week, a living breathing story of trial, tribulation and intrigue! Doubt not this tale will be Bold and Beautiful…for at its heart is the mystical art of turning Water into Beer..…and the revelation that is Gary!

…somewhere ages and ages hence,

I will be telling this with a sigh….

….two paths diverged in a wood, and I…

I chose the path less trodden by

…and ran into Gary …..“

Next Week – Rooprett Reveals Roggenbier Roots

……..” a person is defiled not by what they put in their mouth, but what comes out of their mouth!”

                                                                                                                                                                                                      Gary Tzu

….well dear viewers, last week I began by setting the Colonial scene by night, a most appropriate way for Gary the White to open this particular door to your consciousness! And now today, it is my task to begin to introduce to you – in no particular order – the characters of Colonial and their role in this ‘black art of brewing’ ………..and so today, meet Rooprett!

Rooprett ‘happened’ for Colonial through a mildly inspired Gary selection process…Gary needed help and Rooprett was vulnerable!! Rooprett Herriman spent his formative years toddling around the breathtaking Appalachian Mountains, USA, where he grew up on a diet of Roggenbier (it was the glucans that he liked), Mescalin and Steve Earl and the Del McCoury Band! At the tender age of 6, Rooprett moved with his family to the majestic Kimberley, where his delightful mother was to continue her anthropological research into pastoralism! It was here that Rooprett developed his profound predilection for snake-handling ….. to this day he still loves the way they “feel” and the way their sinewy bodies wrap around his wrist! Although by this time, the Cockroaches had metamorphosed into the Wiggles, and Midnight Oil had well and truly established their inspired and profound insight into the ‘real’ Australia, Rooprett remained enamoured with Steve Earl and the Del McCoury Band…by now, he had even built his first banjo!

Fast forward to the present! Rooprett has completed a degree in Oenology and now represents a new breed of imbiber…a winemaker turned brewer (“come into the light”) . Rooprett has brought many talents to Colonial Brewing, not least his incisive palate (although it has become tiresome to keep explaining that Kolsch is not a Clare Riesling), deep-thinking (“I Feel, therefore I Can”) and dedicated work ethic ( he continues to very slowly to develop his ‘stab pass’ ). His contribution towards the ‘Colonial secret beer project’ has been nothing short of under-whelming!

…but that’s too much for now, and too little for then…..…adieu until next week

Next Week: The Tail of Little Gary and the Water Fountain

Where can I find a man who has forgotten words?

I would like to have a word with him!

Gary Tzu

.....dear viewers, you must forgive your sincere friend, Gary the White, for falling behind on his intermittent intelligence dispatches into the land of Colonial cyber .... It has indeed been a very busy - and indeed somewhat troubling - time! So, bring your patience forth, share it with me, and I will bring you up to speed with the unfolding of time and circumstance.

It feels a lifetime ago - although it was only over 2 weeks back - that Gary the White descended from his brewery rafters, assumed his incarnate human form as Gary Snr, and travelled a long and hard road to judge at the recent Perth Royal Beer Show (Note: Gary Snr left Rooprett to wind brewery activities down for a few days, and thereafter take himself on a well-earned sabbatical to the Kimberley, a copy of 'Diesel and Dust' placed firmly in his hand by Gary Snr; .... unfortunately he was only to return with a new Steve Earl and Del McCoury Band V Neck long sleeve T-Shirt replete with gold banding and a copy of "This Pastoral Life: Almanac 1996" ). The beer judging - as always - was revelatory for Gary Snr and I always enjoy accompanying him on these ventures; but it was the events that unfolded in his absence that concern us here!!

It was an early weeknight, a deep dark night of no moon (Gary Snr safely entrenched in his metropolis slumber), the soft though bitter nor-easter gently caressing the surrounding Colonial eucalypts, as 'Feral the Fox' slipped silently out of the underbrush of Bramley forest, and breathlessly floated across the mandarin orchard towards the Colonial chicken coup! Nestled cosily alongside his harem of Gary Bantams, 'Bwyian the Rooster' remained totally oblivious of the approaching 'red devil'. As we all understand viewers, Feral the Fox is a clever and tricky adversary, definitely not to be trusted ..... his pelt indeed may be fine, but his teeth are sharp and poisoned with ill-intent!! He stealthily moved downwind towards the coup - Bwyian and his entourage remained completely unaware of Ferals presence! For a brief moment, Ferals anticipation at claiming another trophy makes him hasty .....  a small twig snaps!! Feral freezes ............... and Bwyian stirs! Bwyian senses all is not right, but Gary Bantam nestles in, her right wing easing downwards! Bwyian sighs and relaxes! Feral breathes out ....he nearly blew it! Deciding he may have lost his cover of surprise, Feral abandons stealth and accelerates rapidly over the last 20 yards .... he's at the wire, under the fence and among Bwyian and his courtesans before their eyes can open! Viewers, its total pandemonium ......... Feral is an expert at this and I do not want to paint a picture here of his rapacious and unflinching commitment to his appetite; it is simply too disturbing to those who admired and cared for Bwyian and his Bantams! Needless to say that, as the first rays of a soft early winter sun fingered towards the silent chicken coup, there were only tattered and torn feathers to receive its warmth!

At the Colonial homestead, Little Gary and Gym Gary (who we shall meet next week) stir from slumber, and immediately understand all is not well .... the raucous sound of Bwyians early morning maneuverings does not greet their ears! Of course it will be they who first witness and describe the carnage, and in their hearts a painful vengeance is born!

And since that fateful and calamitous catastrophe my dearest viewers, 'Little Gary' and his faithful sidekick 'George' (who we shall also become more familiar with in coming weeks), don their battle fatigues each dusk, lower their night vision goggles, shoulder their air rifles, kiss their wives and children goodnight and march purposefully off to the forbidding edge of Bramley forest! They bunker down for the night, each with a 'Growler' of IPA (and keys to the brewery for more if they require dutch courage) and a pack of Lemon Finger biscuits, and tune their iPods to artists who will feed their resolve for battle ('Wolfmother' for Little Gary ... it's the whole howl at the moon vibe ... and 'the Smiths' for George ..."sweetness la la la la la, bigmouth strikes again ....." )

....but of course esteemed viewers, Feral the Fox lies close by, silently watching our brave frontliners, and plans his next prize trophy !!!

Footnote:

All Colonial Gary's, George and Rooprett send their best wishes and love to 'Gary the Herring Assassin' who somehow miraculously walked away - mostly unscathed - from a dreadful car accident. Thankfully and magically, but clearly in shock, she crawled from the wreckage still clutching a dozen herring, all with their heads cleanly and neatly snapped back!

... adieu until next week blessed revelers!

Next Week

The Tale of Little Gary and the Fountain