A Satinette pigeon pictured at the Royal, date unknown but judging by the jacket worn by the exhibitor it just had to be early 1970s.
And in suitably deferential and hushed tones. It was the Big Kahuna of Sydney pigeon shows in the 1960s, and no doubt before and somewhat beyond that period.
Gaining even a yellow third-place card worth a couple of cents was the pigeondom equivalent of an Olympic medal.
Winning a Best of Breed or Champion award made the hidden treasures of the Inca empire pale in comparison.
When you arrived as an exhibitor at The Royal, you had shoved Sir Edmond Hilary out of the way on the final push to the summit of Everest, had lapped Sir Francis Chichester on his solo around the world sailing journey.
You were “da man”.
It was this holiest of grails on which Team Yarrawonga set its steely sights in 1968.
After such a set up you are probably going to expect me to remember exactly what results were achieved at The Royal from 1968 to 1970. Thanks to the wonderful Heritage Centre at the Royal Agricultural Society of NSW, I have been able to provide some more information. It seems Team Yarrawonga’s success at smaller shows never quite translated to the Royal.
At shows such as the Hunter Valley All Variety Pigeon Society annual, and the Fantail Club of NSW, champion sashes and I am pretty sure perpetual trophies, were gathered, along with lots of place cards.
If high-fiving had been in vogue I am sure there would have been a lot of it. Maybe even chest bumping. No baseball style caps worn back to front, though.
So what happened at the Yarrowonga Fantail Lofts in anticipation of the Royal shows from 1968-1970?
It went something like this.
Entry forms would arrive a couple of months beforehand. They had to be completed in the sort of intricate detail which rocked my admin-obsessive father’s boat in a big way. He also got to use and carefully peruse his own data filled cards for each potential pigeon candidate, which further added to the impending sense of a great occasion.
This Nun pigeon was pictured at a Royal in Sydney, date unknown. There were no pictures of Fantails at the show on file at the RAS Foundation.
So before the entry deadline and mostly, Qantas permitting, with the learned input of both senior partners of Team Yarrawonga, the ritual process of selecting the show team would be played out.
Each show-worthy and eligible Fantail would be considered, initially by being gathered in groups depending on colour, age and sex. First into the bank of show-sized pens (as you can see in a photograph American Pigeon Journal 1968 article in the previous post) would usually be candidates in the White Old Cocks class, followed by White Old Hens, White Young Cocks and White Young Hens, and then onto other colour classes in the same order.
Before I continue I should point out to any non-pigeon readers that males are called cocks. This can cause a whole range of issues when people who have somehow managed to sail through life devoid of such vital knowledge (ie: at a workplace) hear you on the phone saying that you have a nice big Black (or Red) cock. No good has ever come from such a situation, as far as I know.
After a few uncomfortable glances from colleagues, my approach has been to take the initiative and try to work my hobby and this tricky subject into a conversation before I get reported on some sort of HR indescretion.
So anyway, each bird was carefully evaluated on its breeding, previous show results (if not a young bird, which means bred in the current season), then assessed on its “type” (adherence to the Standard of Excellence), condition, and feather (particularly the tail in the case of Fantails). Due to the entry-show time difference, a bit of crystal ball gazing was engaged in to decide if a bird would be at its peak for the show.
This was in the RAS Foundation files and was obviously quite old. I think it might be a King pigeon and date from the early 1960s.
But the heat was well and truly on outside. Because along with all the other considerations, there were two other X factors, the likely quality of the competition and who was going to be the judge.
The Mentalist would have had a field day(s) in our backyard if he had known he would exist. If he had he probably would have stayed well away anyway.
I should add that the last two variables were supposedly addressed by the detailed card information.
When the lucky show candidates had been chosen they were usually confined to their own individual compartment in the weeks before the big day. The back of their tails had masking tape applied to make sure they did not put their heads through and leave an unwanted hole. They were washed in Condi’s Crystals, manicured, pedicured, primped and preened.
Besides the identifying metal rings put on their legs when only a week old, which include details of the issuing club, the year and an individual unique number, the Royal issued their own larger metal rings to match the pen number to which the bird had been allocated on the entry form. These had to be put on the opposite leg and it was not an altogether easy operation, but it certainly appealed to my father’s not-so-latent administrative leanings.
The preliminaries finished, it was time to carefully deposit the birds into an individual compartment in specially-made carry-boxes, in this case more booty from the dash and splash to Herb Greedy’s lofts.
One ritual over and another about to start. In the car and away.
RAS of NSW Fantail results 1968-70
