Garry Sonny Martin

My name’s Garry Martin, but most people know me as Sonny.

Welcome to my Blog! I will be updating this page with new stories from time to time. 

I write stories about my childhood growing up in western Queensland to show the next generations what it was like growing up as a Blackfulla in the 1950s and 1960s.

I write these stories with the help of my daughter, Angie Faye Martin, to preserve memories of the past for future generations. Above all, I hope my granddaughters – Lailah and Ruby – find joy and meaningful connections in these stories.

I started documenting my childhood when I was in Oakey with my brother, Owen (Poe), and my mother, Zona Martin née Leslie. It was a quiet and nostalgic time for me – I finally felt time and space to really reflect on the past. My daughter was calling frequently from Melbourne during the Covid lockdowns and wanting information about the past for her debut novel, Melaleuca. She was particularly interested in stories from the yumba and how life was back then.

I hope you enjoy these yarns, have a laugh and remember our loved ones. There’ll be more coming soon!

Fishing with Granny

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I always loved going fishing with Granny and Grandfather out on the Ward River or down the Warrego.

They’d pile a mob of us kids in the back of Grandfather’s old Plymouth and away we’d go, happy as Larry, jumping around, all excited. We couldn’t get there quickly enough!

First thing once we arrived was to gather some bait. Granny showed us how to find mussels along the edge of the river. We also used a bucket with holes in it and a bit of soap tied to the bottom to attract shrimps – that was our bait. Sometimes we would stay out overnight, which added more excitement to the outing.

We’d set up a big old tarpaulin spread out on the ground close by the fire to keep ourselves warm during the night. In we’d fly with everyone wanting to be in the middle – nobody wanted to sleep on the outside because we were scared of ghosts or something bad might grab us!

Granny and Grandfather made their beds a little distance away from us noisy ratbag kids, so they would get a decent night’s sleep.

Granny naturally made sure we were all fed and if we were lucky enough to catch a yellow belly or catfish she would throw them on the coals along with the mussels and potatoes cooked in their jackets.

Such a beautiful and delicious feed we’d have! We’d have Johnny cakes also cooked on the coals covered in golden syrup or some damper that was cooked at home earlier and mugs of warm sweet milky tea to dunk it in.