## The Cottage by the Sea (M/m)

The events I am about to relate took place just before Christmas 1969. I was still 13 when this happened and had just completed my fourth year at school.

Because I didn't have contact with any of my family, I didn't really have anywhere to go during my school holidays, and so the school used to farm me out to various families. Sometimes, often, the family of a friend would especially invite me to stay. Other times I was sent somewhere almost at random - while I don't think any other boy at the school was in precisely my situation, it wasn't that uncommon for there to be various reasons a boy could not easily go home in the holidays - distance alone meant in some cases it wasn't worthwhile (although that generally didn't apply during the Christmas holidays which were our longest) and so the school used to appeal every year for families to take in boys for the breaks - and quite a few families were more than willing to do so. Most were wealthy so the expense didn't worry them, and there was an attitude in operation that the school was a community that included families. Many fathers had been to the school themselves. It really wasn't hard for the school to place its various waifs and strays.

The way I was treated when staying with these families differed depending on where I was. In all cases, I think that I was treated well most of the time - there were a couple of incidents that were quite unpleasant, but generally things worked out well for me. But in some cases I was treated very well indeed. Those families I remember most fondly are those who took me in and really treated me very much as if I was one of the family - and that did happen a few times.

This particular year the parents of my best friend at school, William Connolly invited me to stay with them over Christmas. The Connolly's were incredibly rich - wealth wasn't uncommon at my school by any means, but there were a few families that could have bought and sold all of the others, and the Connolly's were one of these. They lived in what can only be described as a mansion at a place called Olivers Hill. William had three sisters (one older and two younger) and a much younger brother.

We didn't stay at the big house that summer - instead we went to stay at the 'cottage'. The cottage had something like eight bedrooms spread across two floors - by any normal standards it was a large house. It was located just outside the town of San Remo in southern Victoria, which was a fairly popular tourist destination. We were far enough out of the township that it really seemed like we alone down there.

Mrs Connolly, assisted by a governess named Miss Burke, took all of us - so a total of six kids aged from seven to sixteen down there. Mr Connolly was to come down on weekends. We arrived down there in mid December and the plan was to stay there until us older kids had to return to our various schools in late January or early February.

It was great fun. We were really allowed to do pretty close to whatever we liked as long as we were back at the cottage for meals, and as long as we didn't do anything criminal or dangerous. The only time of the week our time was not our own was Sunday mornings when we had to attend Church in the township. But besides that, we really were free to do what we liked. William, myself, and his elder sister, Lucy, were expected by our schools to do some schoolwork, and all three of us were expected to keep an eye on the younger children - but really we were looking at weeks of freedom.

Anyway, on Sunday morning, about a week into our time down there, William woke up feeling rather sick. Miss Burke - who technically speaking was governess to only the two youngest children, but really took the attitude that she was responsible for anyone not yet able to vote including the older Connolly kids (and me) established that he wasn't faking to avoid Church, and that therefore he should spend the day resting. He was sick enough that this didn't really worry him. The rest of us went to Church, and on our return I began looking for something to do that didn't involve William.

Now the two oldest Connolly girls were Lucy who was 16, and Amelia who was about my age - 13. I got along very well with both of them. They were girls and I had the normal, healthy level of mixed respect and contempt most Australian boys of that age have for girls - but they both attended our sister school where they were exposed to immense amounts of hockey, Lacrosse, swimming and athletics and while I probably could have beaten Amelia in a fight, Lucy could have tied me in knots. I respected this.

They were perfectly polite, well behaved young ladies when they had to be - just as when necessary, I could be quite the young gentleman. But when it wasn't needed, we pretty much turned into kids. We played. It seems today that people almost deny that teenagers play - well, we did play. All sorts of games. And after lunch, Lucy and I went out to try and find something to do - Amelia drew the short straw and wound up supervising the little ones.

The cottage was on a cliff overlooking the sea and down at the base of the cliff was something close to a private beach. It didn't actually belong to the family and occasionally somebody else did walk that far down - but it was pretty close to our own. And it had a small jetty, with a rowing boat tied up beside it.

I suggested that we go for a bit of a row. Now I'd spent most of the previous year at my school's mountain top establishment where we got close to nature and learned a lot of basic skills - including the basics of boat handling. I was competent with oars, I knew how to row and I was pretty fit after a year of that.

Lucy told me that the kids were forbidden to use the boat - Mr Connolly would occasionally take it out but only very occasionally.

I took the position that I was perfectly capable of rowing a boat and I was sure that Mr Connolly wouldn't mind - his rule made perfect sense when the children were all inexperienced, but both William and I now knew what we were doing so if we asked I was sure it would be fine - except Mr and Mrs Connolly had gone to lunch with some friends - so we couldn't ask. And we both knew there was no point in asking Miss Burke because she would have said no without thinking. So it would be all right if we able to ask - and it wasn't our fault that we couldn't ask.

Lucy allowed herself to be persuaded by the logic of my arguments. And so we boarded the boat, untied it, and began rowing out into the sea.

Less than ten minutes later I started to have some rather serious concerns. All my boating previously had been either on a lake in the mountains, or in the schools very sedate lagoon - and I was beginning to realize that there was a huge difference between conditions there and those in the eastern entrance of Western Port Bay, perhaps three hundred yards north of Bass Strait. We were being pushed south and I could see that even rowing with all my strength back towards the shore we were likely to sweep past the rocky point into the open sea before I could get us back. Lucy also realised we were in trouble (my swearing may have given it away) and she was rowing as well - but she was less skilled than I was and we really weren't making much progress. At this point, I became desperate and decided that we had to do something quite serious - we had to row away from the beach.

We were in the Eastern passage, the narrow entrance to Victoria's Western Port Bay. On the east side of the passage is the southern part of the Victorian mainland - on the western side is Phillip Island. At its narrowest point, the passage is only a few hundred yards wide (and had just had a new bridge built about a month earlier) but we were south of that and being pushed further and further south. We were only 300 yards off the eastern beach - but with our southerly motion we were not going to get back to it. The beaches on the other side of the passage were about a mile distant - but went significantly further south. By rowing that way into the main channel, I thought we could get ashore - miles from home but safe. And so we tried it.

It was exhausting - because I was rowing as hard and as fast as I knew how. Lucy was panicked - and in all honesty, I might have been even worse. After 45 minutes, we were getting close to the beaches - but we were also running out of beach.

Fortunately at this point, people on another boat - quite a large power boat - realised that we weren't waving at them because we were being friendly. They pulled up their anchor from where they were fishing sheltered by red point and came out to meet us. They gave us a line and took us in tow all the way back to the jetty at San Remo. They also took us on board as we were starting to get rather sunburnt. Sandbars meant they weren't willing to try and drop us off at our home beach no matter how much we begged. If they'd done that we might have been able to pretend nothing had happened. They sympathized with us - but were not going to risk running aground to keep us out of trouble.

When we got back, Miss Burke was waiting for us in a near panic. She'd gone looking for us about twenty minutes earlier to ask us to spend some time with William. She'd found us gone and the boat gone - and could see in the distance, the powerboat towing our empty rowing boat. She'd frantically phoned the Connolly's at their friend's home and they were on their way back - but weren't expected for nearly an hour. William had got out of bed and had begun running up the beach to San Remo to try and see what was happening - we'd missed him by coming back via the road - a longer but easier route.

Miss Burke was absolutely furious with both of us. I don't blame her for that - looking back on it, we'd been extremely stupid. Lucy burst into tears as she scolded us. I came close to doing so, but managed to hold them back out of a sense of masculine pride. It wasn't easy.

William arrived back after about twenty minutes, looked into the parlour where we were standing as we were told off, and flashed me a thumbs up sign - which was something we always did to each other at school when we knew that one of us was facing an imminent caning. I considered it quite likely that something like that probably existed in my near future - it wasn't a surprise, by any means. Corporal punishment was simply a fact of life for me - it happened at school, and it had happened on previous occasions while staying with families over the holidays. Back then there really was a view among parents that if a boy was in your care, you had a right and duty to discipline him where needed. I was really wondering just how it would happen - if it would be Miss Burke or Mr or Mrs Connolly - and how they'd do it. I really had no doubt at all that it would happen.

A car door slammed outside and Mr and Mrs Connolly came running in. Mrs Connolly grabbed Lucy and hugged her, and then to my embarrassment - but also to my delight - she did the same to me. Mr Connolly was obviously very relieved but was not as demonstrative.

"What happened?"

Lucy was still crying quite heavily, so couldn't really speak to deny what I said. "Sir... we went rowing. Lucy told me it wasn't allowed, but I insisted and she just came along with me because I wouldn't say I wouldn't go. She didn't want to come - but she said she had to because it wasn't my boat - it was yours..." Not the most elaborate and well thought out story in the history of the world, looking back on it.

"You knew it was against the rules?"

"Yes, Sir."

"Nathan, you will come with me." His wife put her hand on his arm and whispered something to him that I didn't hear. He said "I know. I will handle it."

We went out the back door of the cottage and down a path to a real cottage - actually a rather small, very nicely built structure that served as his office at the cottage - he came to the cottage on weekends, but still worked most of the time. This place was off limits to all children under normal circumstances - we weren't even supposed to play too near it. He let me in and went into his office, where he took off his jacket, and sat down in an old sofa - he pointed to the armchair opposite and told me to sit down.

"Sir, I'm very sorry - very sorry indeed that I put Lucy in danger. I know..."

"I went to school with your father, Nathan - did you know that?"

"Yes, Sir." We tended to know our friends fathers histories especially if they'd been to the school as well. My father had been a couple of years older than Mr Connolly.

"We were in the same house. We weren't exactly friends, but we knew each other quite well When I was in the first form, and he was in the third, he once covered for me when the Headmaster wanted to know who had thrown a rock at a magpie. Your dad saw me do it - but, of course, he didn't tell."

"No, Sir."

"So I'm not at all surprised you're trying to cover for Lucy. But it's nonsense. You know it and I know it. Lucy is every bit as responsible for what happened as you are. Actually I think she's probably more responsible - she's older. She could have stopped you getting into that boat - and she should have. So let's not have any nonsense about you taking all the blame. I'm not surprised you're trying - your father would have done the same. I would have done the same at your age. But, no, it won't wash. If anything she's mostly to blame."

"No, Sir!"

"No, Sir?"

"OK, Sir - you're right, I'm not completely to blame - but she's not mostly either. She wouldn't have done it if I hadn't been there. I suggested it. She told me it was wrong."

"And she went anyway. Knowing it was against the rules, knowing that it was dangerous to yourselves and to my boat. Knowing that she was the older. Look, Nathan, if you're going to insist, I'll grant that you are equally responsible as her - but there is no way I will hold you responsible in greater part."

"Yes, Sir... and I am sorry about the boat as well."

"Oh, forget the boat. It doesn't matter - what matters is that the pair of you are safe. The boat can sink for all I care, really, compared to that. But you have earned punishment for what you did as I am sure you know."

"Yes, Sir."

"I could ban the pair of you from leaving the cottage - I'm tempted to - and I will if you repeat this type of behaviour. But I really don't want to wreck your Christmas holidays, so I think a more immediate form of punishment is most appropriate. Stand up, Nathan and come here."

I was wearing my swimming trunks, a shirt, and a pair of sandals. Nothing else.

"Drop your pants and bend over my lap."

I did so quite quickly. I wanted this over. But when I was in position, he didn't start straight away.

"Nathan, I want you to understand that I am not punishing you for putting my daughter in danger, and I am certainly not punishing you for taking my boat. I am punishing you solely because you put yourself in danger and for no other reason. And I'm going to do to you exactly what I would do to William in this same situation. Do you understand?"

"Yes, Sir."

And he did his duty by me. And he did it well. It seemed to go on for ever. There was no holding back, no gentleness, no sympathy, and not a shadow of mercy in what he did to me over the next... I suppose it might have been a couple of minutes. It certainly didn't hurt as much as being caned did - but that had a set limit, you knew that it would end rather quickly. I didn't know when he would stop.

Finally he let me stand up and pull up my trunks.

"I'm sorry, Nathan, that that was needed. But if it is needed again, it will happen again. While you are in my care, I will care for you in whatever way I think is appropriate. I don't want to have to do that again, and I know you don't want it to happen again, but the difference between us is that you are the one with the choice as to whether it happens again. Now go to your room - and tell Lucy to come here. I'll see you at tea - not before."

I headed back up to the cottage and to the second floor where we children had our rooms. I knocked on Lucy's door - it was open and she was sitting on her bed listening to a record. She looked up and winced when she saw the expression on my face.

"Is it time?"

"He wants you."

"All right... sorry, Nat... I should have stopped..."

"Shut up, Lucy. I earned my share of this, and I'm keeping it."

"All right, all right. See you at tea, then."

I went to my room, and lay down and sobbed like a baby for about ten minutes. Then I was fine.

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