It's Christmas Eve and I'm suddenly inspired.....who is this man in the red robe?

The reference to Johnson and Brock was to two of our top Australian sedan racing drivers of that time using turbo chargers on their engines. Both of them have sons now racing V8s at Bathurst - our premier car racing circuit..

In Aussie talk our 'caravan' is your 'Travel Trailer' and 'van' is a caravan or trailer.

---------------------------------------------------------

"WHAT PUMP?

A Christmas tale by Lionel Mussell

It came in a flash of brilliance. "Hey - its a pump," I shouted in excitement. "What's a pump?" she asked with a look that suggested I'd put away a few too many tinnies.

"An engine is - that's what. How do you think Johnson and Brocky and those boys go so flamin' fast? They use the engine as a pump and let the exhaust gases drive a turbocharger so the wasted power going out the back end is used to force-feed the motor."

"Oh," she said with a great lack of enthusiasm. "What's that got to do with the price of fish?"

"Well if there's so much gas going to waste, why can't it be used to power a hovercraft?"

"Who wants a hovercraft?" she enquired.

"We do," I patiently explained. "We could have the world's first hovervan. A caravan without wheels that can be towed over the roughest country and on the worst corrugated road without as much as a pitch or toss!"

Casting on a few stitches, she gave me a look of pity, remarked that she supposed that would be nice and carried on with her knitting.

The more I thought about it the more feasible it became in my mind, and a few more tinnies later when I crawled into bed my mind was filled with possibilities.

I hadn't been asleep long when a hand on my shoulder shook me gently awake and I saw a dim figure outlined beside the bed.

"Sssh," he whispered, "don't wake her."

I sat up with a start.

There wasn't much light, but my eyes could make out that he was wearing some kind of hood and he had a beard. When I followed him into the kitchen he turned the light on, and to my surprise he was dressed all in red and his whiskers were as white as white.

He's dressed a bit stupid I thought, with it being late December and the night as warm as can be.

Late December! Cripes it was more than that, I suddenly realised - it was Christmas Eve and this... and this. . was it really... could it be?

He must have read my thoughts or caught my startled expression, because he turned and smiling said, "Yes, I'm Father Christmas. I know you haven't believed in me for years, but I've believed in you and I knew that one day you'd get an idea that would rock the world."

"That's not what my wife says when I get ideas," I told him.

"I mean your 'Hovervan' idea you had last night. It was so good an idea that I took a couple of hours off from the toys and knocked one up for you - come outside and look."

It's a wonder I hadn't heard him back the Falcon out of the shed, because there it was all hooked up to the fanciest looking van you ever saw. It was all sleek and shiny and sat right on the ground with no wheels - not even a jockey wheel as far as I could see.

A pipe ran from old Henry's exhaust pipe to a fitting on the front of the van, but the funniest thing was how low it was - it only came up to the bottom of the car's back window.

"How does it work" I asked as I wandered around the outfit.

"Start the car and I'll show you," Santa replied

As I slid into the driving seat, I could see that a new panel had been fitted under the dashboard with buttons and switches on it.

As I fired up the motor I saw the van lift a couple of inches as Santa squeezed into the passenger seat.

"I don't think there's room to get round here," I said. "Mustn't go over the garden".

"Ho, ho, ho," he chuckled. "Did you forget it's a hovervan?"

I hadn't forgotten, but I hadn't realised it could go over the flower beds without bringing on a scathing attack next morning - like the one when I hadn't noticed the newly dug bit of garden and had walked right through some recently planted exotic bulbs.

"OK - Let's see how she goes," grinned my robed friend. I do believe he was as excited as me.

I backed over the garden and we were soon headed out down the road. It was as though there was no van there at all. You could only see it as you went round right-hand bends because it was too low to see in the rear view mirror. I also could now see that it was much narrower than the car, and I thought that although this was all very well for travelling it would be a pretty cramped thing to live in on a site.

As we left the street lamps behind and began to get into the country I put my foot down and there we were skimming along at a steady 100km/h and no sway or rock or anything to suggest we were hauling a van behind.

"This is wonderful," I exclaimed. "I've never towed anything like this before."

"Try it off the road," he suggested. "I've made a few mods to the car too."

We had the lights on, and I could see by the dash light that the new panel had some labels on it. "Press this," smiled Santa, pointing to a button marked 'up'.

I did and heard a bit of a whirring sound. "What's that?" I asked.

"Oh, that's just the electric motors winding the car up to give you more ground clearance. We'll need that when we go across the paddocks," he explained.

We were approaching a lane, so I turned into it and to my surprise found the outfit travelled as smoothly over the bumps and potholes as on the bitumen.

Suddenly I spotted a quagmire ahead and started to brake.

"Don't stop," said Santa reaching down and pressing another button.

"We've got four-wheel drive now," he laughed as we ploughed through the mud with no loss of speed.

There was no end to the surprises that night. We tackled ploughed paddocks, sandy tracks, gibber plains, black-soil mud and at one stage we rolled along a wide sandy beach with sea on one side and huge dunes on the other.

After what seemed ages, Santa reluctantly turned to me and said we would have to get back as his assistants would be ready for the toy run and he mustn't disappoint the boys and girls.

As we entered the driveway at home I still didn't know how the van worked, but he must have been doing his mind reading act again because he said to come round the side of the van but to leave the car engine running.

"It's all worked by that pump you were talking about last night," he explained. "You know - the one Brocky uses to run his turbo."

I hadn't reckoned on Father Christmas following the car racing, but I suppose it gets pretty boring up there at the North Pole.

When I walked around to the side where he was waiting I noticed another little panel and more buttons. He hit one with a flourish and the van began to expand sideways. Another button prodded and up it went until the roof was higher than me.

As it rose I could see there were windows all round and a door right next to where we stood. "Come in", he invited as he opened the door and
stepped inside.

I'd had a few shocks in the past few hours but nothing prepared me for the sight that met my eyes as I followed his tubby figure inside. I was about to accept his invitation to join him for a glass of champagne before exploring the vast and sumptuous interior that seemed to stretch for ever when a harsh jingling sound suddenly shattered the peaceful
night.

"You stupid nong - you set the alarm as usual! Didn't you remember it was Christmas and we don't have to get up early?" my wife grumbled as I groped for the clock on the bedside table.

As I blinked in the early dawn light I said, "Hey - remember that pump I was talking about?"

"What pump?" she sleepily replied, pulling the covers back round her as she turned away from me."