Congarinni and Patrick Byrnes

Congarinni is a small village at Nambucca, and one of its pioneers was my great, great, grandfather, Patrick Byrnes who farmed 295 acres in 1864, to later operate a general store and pub, to take advantage of stopovers to the Bellinger River.

Here is a short poem I composed about his life.

Patrick Byrnes

Before the dock, his life ending?   

The Judge his rule, was pending

In clemency to the colonies I’m sending.    

The Captain Cook sailing to a far off land,

Let go the dark and filthy holds, just dream,   

Of a new land to make your home.

 

Upon the shore, a pardon came,

To the crooked river set sail,  

To build an Inn, to farm the land, to raise a family,

Along the crooked river there was no better man.

 

For Bullock trains, a favourite spot,  

Witty tales, tasty ales, not your only lot,   
Gentlemen seeking tweeds, a quality none better,     
Along the crooked river there was no better man.

 

To the cedar kings of high country where rivers just a speck,   

To the river’s mouth a graveyard for all the dreaded wrecks,  
He was the grand innkeeper, the one where all would stay.

The story of an Irish lad, who just stole for bread and butter.  
A pioneer whose fortune was told along the crooked river.