The Winelander

Couldn’t make it to the funeral today. But it was ever present in my mind, overshadowed as it was this week after the passing of an Australian sportsman that seemed to have hit a chord.

Funerals are sombre affairs. Those on the periphery are faced with the question of whether to attend at all. Whilst resolving that question was out of my hands on this occasion, 1pm and all that would have followed was not far from my thoughts. The work of Ray Edser’s hands appears prominently in my photo albums, his energy very palpable in many excursions and rail heritage activities over the years. As such, I have spent and continue to spend much time tracking the goings on of the many and varied heritage rail activities in this part of the state and beyond.

Despite this overlap, I only met him the once and basing firm opinions on one meeting would be a little gauche. I know nothing of his personal life, and can only wish his family well as they walk with difficulty through the journey of grief that follows an unexpected passing.

Having travelled on and photographed many of those trains he so painstakingly orchestrated, I can say with assurance that his efforts bought joy and gladness to a world that desperately needs relief from its many trials and sorrows. The smiling faces of the many passengers and the experience of reliving history in all its soot-soaked glory is a sensory pleasure savoured by those for whom the whistle calls.

I first came upon Ray Edser through his involvement in the Winelander to Stanthorpe and Wallangarra, a yearly weekend pilgrimage by train to the Granite Belt that I came to dote on, anticipate and plan for. Whilst I travelled on the train just the one time, I was indeed fortunate to photograph, film and write about the Winelander in the pages of  Australia’s Railway Digest magazine on numerous occasions.

Earlier this year, Ray’s Winelander ran for the very last time, a bittersweet moment for long distance rail tourism in Queensland, as there is nothing else like it, and may not be again. It’s funny; I thought the line would close long before the carriages were withdrawn, but that’s how the work order is completed I suppose.

Ray graciously showed me though the carriages, one balmy evening in Wallangarra whilst most people were at dinner. He was particularly proud of the workmanship evident in the fifty year old rollingstock that somehow manages to glide over our pioneering narrow gauge track. All too soon though, the passengers climbed back on board, the train whistled out and the platform on the border was very empty once again.

Ray could be abrasive, no nonsense and have a different opinion. Partly that helped him do his job. Partly it was just him. Because he was good at his job, people accepted that and seemed to take him at face value. His familiar face will be sadly missed around the Rosewood railway, as well as on the tour trains that plied our Anglo cape narrow gauge across the south east.

The rail industry is always changing, and in Ray’s passing it has lost one of it’s staunchest supporters, believers and advocates. Rail heritage tells a compelling story that is always in danger of being economised right into the history books. People like Ray push back so that each new generation has a chance to see, hear, touch and smell the history lessons of rail heritage that underpinned the development of this state, from scrub to whatever we have made it today.

It is with sadness that we note his passing. We give thanks for his life, and think of the family at this time. And we are inspired by Ray’s dedication to looking forward, to progress, by looking backward and by acknowledging history, the rich vein of stories and the many people whom we today acknowledge as contributors to rail, and the greater good.

Stanthorpe