Crossing the River - Aussie Bush Poem

Andrew lived for years Outback.
For native language he had a knack.
To finance his linguistic work,
He taught religion – what a lurk!

In his trusty four-wheel-drive he’d ride,
Travelling around the countryside,
To settlements long miles apart –
He could give us all a big head start.

At breakneck speed he’d drive along;
His vehicle was good and strong,
To cope with the dust, and the vibrations
Of the dirt road’s corrugations.

It was no different in the Wet:
Wherever he wanted to go he’d get.
Though all around were getting bogged,
By good, not bad luck, he was dogged.

It transpired one day he must cross over
The flooded, wide Sandover river.
For weeks the water was running high,
Now, to him, it was as good as dry.

The dirt road at the muddy ford
Was broken up, with fissures scored,
So Andrew tried another way,
Over the sand; but forgot to pray.

This linguist, full of missionary zeal,
Pressed foot to floor and clutched the wheel.
He expected treatment preferential –
But he sank right to his differential.

His four-wheel-drive was bogged right in;
His wheels did nothing else but spin.
He tried in forward, then reverse;
You’d think he’d lose his cool and curse.

But Andrew didn’t turn a hair;
He knew that he’d get out of there
By calling in human resources –
Those who’d been at his scripture courses.

His call went over the air waves -
Andrew’s version of “Jesus saves”;
Then he settled down to have a rest
Until someone answered his request.

Frank woke Andrew, who’d gone to sleep.
“You sure have dug yourself in deep!”
“I think that we can get you out;
It’ll be hard work, I have no doubt.”

The men brought shovels and a rope,
A truck and winch to give them scope.
They dug the sand from round the wheels,
While Andrew squatted on his heels.

On firm land they parked the truck,
To make sure it didn’t get stuck,
Attached the winch and pulled it hard,
But all their efforts were ill-starred.

Although they pulled with all their might,
Still the wheels were all stuck tight,
Then old Jack made a deduction,
“It looks like there is too much suction.”

They looked around them in dismay.
For where they’d dug the sand away,
Water had filled up all the space -
And the car was awash up to its base.

Andrew didn’t get upset,
He didn’t worry and didn’t fret.
“Don’t be troubled, and don’t you fear,
Things aren’t as bad as they appear.

“Corrugated iron will do the trick –
You can find some, can’t you Mick?
I think old Albert has some loose.
I know you’ll help, won’t you Bruce?”

So off they went to find some tin,
And Andrew suggested with a grin,
“Let’s all have a cup of tea,
It’ll perk us up I guarantee.”

‘Twas Joe and Fred and little Willie
Who lit the fire and boiled the billy,
While Andrew sat and took his ease,
In the shade of the river-gum trees.

Finally all the gear was ready
And Andrew got them to go steady,
“Jack the wheels and put the iron under.
We’ll be out soon, I shouldn’t wonder.”

The men all sweated at the jack
Lifting the wheels, the iron to pack,
While Andrew sat in the driver’s seat,
Until preparations were complete.

He took the wheel as they pulled him out,
And when he was clear he gave a shout.
Then without so much as a quiver,
He drove through the sand and across the river.