Long time followers of Yarns from the Farm will remember Davey Carnes as the kind, gentle, old-school shepherd who taught me so much about the care of sheep. Davey died peacefully at the age of 97 in November.
Davey came out of retirement (which he loathed) at the age of 75, to help me through a rough patch for a few months just after I bought my farm. He stayed for 13 years, retiring for the second time at 87. In the intervening years he not only taught me much of what he knew from his past experience, he also stayed open to new ideas and approaches and supported my experiments as I gained confidence as a woolgrower.
Davey on top of Table Mountain on his 79th birthday, 2006. His family lived on Table Mountain for several years when he was young.
Davey grew up in the Central Highlands of Tasmania, son and grandson of “lake country shepherds”. He referred to himself as a shepherd, not the more modern “stockman”, though he was as accomplished on horseback with cattle as with sheep. Typically for Davey, he moved with the times and rode a motorbike, a four-wheeler (and even wore a helmet when the regulation came in), and eventually my side-by-side Polaris. He protested a bit about my getting the Polaris, but ended up loving it.
Davey was a keen sportsman, loving cricket, but apparently better at football. He also raced road bikes, back in the day, and used to tell stories of riding his pushbike from Oatlands to Tunnack for a dance, then riding back again that night, ready for an early start at work the following day.
Because of the respect and regard with which he was held in the community, Davey was able to help me become accepted, despite the drawbacks of age, gender and accent to my being taken seriously as a woolgrower. He was lovely about introducing me to people whenever we were out doing farm business, with one notable exception. On that occasion, he declined rather pointedly to introduce me to someone. When I asked about it, he just said “He’s not someone you want to know.”
He did introduce me David Champion, who became my wool broker, John Denholm, my stock agent, his great friend Muzza Johnson (my first shearer), Kieran Byers (my first fencer), Bob Cooper who worked magic on my small motors, Brian, Lyn, Karen and Andrew Fish, who have all been wonderful friends over the years, and many others. Without Davey, I doubt very much that I would still be farming. It would certainly have taken me much longer to find my feet.
There are so many stories of the years with Davey it’s hard to know where to start. Davey lost the sight in one eye to glaucoma before I met him. As a result, his depth perception was faulty, as dents in gates and roller doors still attest. The best story, though, was the day he was trying to head off some unruly rams and didn’t see the boundary fence on his blind side. When he did see it, he hit the accelerator instead of the brake in the Polaris, and went right right over the fence. The fence righted itself, but left Davey and the Polaris on the neighbours’ side. Happily, the one gate between the properties was only a short distance away. Davey could have kept his adventure a secret, but in true Davey style, he came back and calmly reported that he had driven over the fence!
Davey with Chance and Janie in the Polaris, 2017
Davey was kind to everyone, but especially animals. While he often said that nature could be cruel, the one thing he couldn’t tolerate was humans being cruel to animals in their care. It was his objection to the practice of mulesing that gave me the courage not to mules—right from the start—when not mulesing was unthinkable. Later, when we got the nutrition right and beat the worm issues and attendant scouring, Davey was completely okay with me not docking tails. He quite liked my radical idea of not weaning lambs, instead letting them grow up beside their mothers who could teach them how to be proper sheep. And though he’d already retired when I stopped selling my sheep for slaughter, he approved of that, too.
Davey with Ted, 2012
Davey’s deep empathy for animals and for the land helped me to develop the relationships I now enjoy with my sheep, wildlife and land—the great joy and fulfilment that I’ve shared with readers over the years.
Pip Courtney and Davey, 2013
One of my favourite stories about Davey was his unlikely but enduring friendship with Pip Courtney from ABC Landline. In 2013, when Pip was here to shoot the first WGW episode, she and Davey became fast friends. They had in common a deep respect and love for Pip’s grandfather, Dr Courtney, who delivered many of the area's babies, including Davey’s daughters. Pip and Davey kept in touch, exchanging cards every Christmas. Pip said of Davey, “Meeting him was one of the highlights of my 30 years on Landline. A beautiful, beautiful man who had such an open mind, despite his age and experience.
Davey considered eagles his totem. He would always stop to watch them, and I’d like to think he imagined flying with them over the country that he so loved.