Sir Les Patterson is known globally for his tireless championing of Australian culture in all it's forms. This book is a photographic journey through the great man's native land, accompanied with rhyming couplets from the quill of Sir Les himself.

A member of the Australia Council for the Yartz since it's inception the sumptuous black and white photography depicts Les getting to grips with macrame, porcelain production and draughtsmanship.

In the film section there is a rare photo of Lois Patterson, O.B.E.. Who knew that Sir Les even had a sister. With his life being an open book we find that there is still so much that we don't know.

The Friend of the Famous section has a beautiful photo of Sir Les relaxing on set with the cast of The Sullivans (ask your parents).

This publication is just chock-a-block with photos of Sir Les in high profile governmental meetings, at cultural functions, enjoying ethnic cuisine and perusing the native art scene, or Abo Art, as it is known locally. Sir Les is also a committed conservationist and can be seen getting up close and personal with the creatures of his home land.

After leafing through this tome you marvel at the drive and the commitment of this great Australian. Whether it's relaxing over a long lunch with one of his government sponsored research assistants or sat in the bosom of his family, Gwenneth, Craig and Karen, Sir Les is a people person. And I'm not just saying that because he's my Uncle.

Barry McKenzie's Song
"The Old Pacific Sea"

I was down by Bondi pier, drinkin' tubes of ice-cold beer
With a bucket full of prawns upon my knee
When I'd swallowed the last prawn,
I had a technicolour yawn
and I chundered in the old Pacific Sea

Drink it up, drink it up,
Crack another dozen tubes and prawns with me
If you want to throw your voice,
mate you won't have any choice
But to chunder in the old Pacific Sea

I was sittin' in the surf, when a mate of mine called Murf
Asks if he can crack a tube or two with me
The bastard barely swallowed it
When he went for the big spit
and he chundered in the old Pacific Sea

Drink it up, drink it up,
Crack another dozen tubes and prawns with me
If you want to throw your voice,
mate you won't have any choice
But to chunder in the old Pacific Sea

I've had liquid laughs in bars and I've hurled from moving cars
And I've chuckled where and when it suited me
But if I could choose the spot
To regurgitate me lot,
then I'd chunder in the old Pacific Sea

Drink it up, drink it up,
Crack another dozen tubes and prawns with me
If you want to throw your voice,
mate you won't have any choice
But to chunder in the old Pacific Sea

It was this delicate pean to the liquid laugh, to crying Ruth, to parking a tiger that stuck in my head whilst perusing the cartoons. Chug-a-lug! Chug-a-lug! Originally it was the fact that Sir Les Patterson wrote the preface that lead me to buy this book. I didn't have much of an interest in reading a book of cartoon strips, but the one thing that kept me going was trying to decipher all the slang contained in the speech balloons. Thank goodness for the comprehensive glossary in the back. The one omission seems to be 'the hard word' which I still can't quite figure out.

Looking at the artwork over the ten years you can see a progression from the fine black lines, through the lighter grey shaded era and back again. Barry still has the same chin, wide-brimmed hat of course and always sports a tie and a double breasted suit. To think that such a book was considered so risque that it could have been banned in Australia. Reading it today it does seem quite tame.

Reading it from cover to cover possibly isn't recommended. It's more likely to be something that you should just dip into. Although having read it all I can certainly see where Uncle Les got some of his sayings from.

My oath I'm Australian. It's the greatest little humdinger of a country in the world. You poor old poms don't know what you're missin'. Beaut sandy beaches, lovely juicy steaks, big shiny cars, decent church-going buggers all over the place, and gorgeous clean livin' sheilahs, who root like rattlesnakes and can't pass a prick!Barry McKenzie - on his homeland

Isn't it funny when you come to think of it? A bastard tucks away a few jars of ice-cold, it's only in his ned kelly for a few jiffs, and then, when he has a decent hurl, it comes out all thick and different somehow. Isn't nature bloody marvellous!Barry McKenzie - on his favourite pastime

Whacko-the-diddle-oh!