Reader's Tale: Every Caravanner's Nightmare

Milliseconds later, our normally sedate Ford Fairmont went feral. Contrary to what we might expect the brain functions with remarkable clarity, even when stressed beyond fear: keep off the brakes, steer in the direction of maximum force, and stay on your wheels at all costs.

During those first life-threatening moments, I was unaware that a bullbar-bearing Ford station wagon had rammed us, that lateral forces had broken off one trailer wheel, and that the caravan had speared its towbar into our boot, leapt off the towball, and dragged on its safety chains.

Most intriguing of all, the level rides had twisted under the car, providing much-needed stability. Had I gone for the brakes, the van may have somersaulted over the top.

Though we are both in our 70s, the Grim Reaper did not want us yet, so we somehow finished up hanging an involuntary U-turn, coming to rest on the wrong side of the road.

Grey Nomads came to our assistance. Other travellers took messages to the nearest roadhouse, while a bloke with a satellite phone contacted the Northern Territory’s RACV equivalent.

Traumatised but physically unhurt, I found that ‘Total Care’ can be less than total if you are involved in an accident when towing. The good samaritan handed me his phone so I could be advised that I would have to talk to our insurance company about towing costs. I think I said something about my immoveable caravan blocking half the Stuart Highway and would they just shift the bloody thing!

Meanwhile, a road train pulled up and offered to pull us to the verge, but by that time a flat-top was on the way from Daly Waters Holiday Inn; I didn’t know what the insurance company might say.

Wonderful people retrieved our personal effects, scattered around the wreck. One lady even made a nice cuppa as others comforted my uninjured wife as well as the other car driver’s wife, who had been hurt when their air bags deployed.

An oncoming caravanner who had almost been caught up in the action said, “Mate, that was the most skilful piece of driving I have ever seen.”

“Thanks for the vote of confidence,” I replied, but it was more a matter of good luck than good management.

With the car damaged but driveable, we followed our forlorn little Windsor Statesman pop-top to the Inn.

The bar lady there plonked a complimentary VB stubby on the counter and the other driver shouted us a beer – the world became a better place.

RACV Total Care arranged temporary accommodation while we transferred our worldly goods from the caravan to our room. Staff at the Inn helped us find and pack cartons for on-forwarding to Geelong, and the manager straightened the car’s towbar so we could carry our bicycles.

We abandoned our planned itinerary and drove carefully home via inland Queensland, staying at caravan park cabins along the way, mourning the loss of our house on wheels, and envying caravans coming in every evening like flocks of homing birds

Currently, our car is undergoing major repairs. Our cartons are in transit somewhere and the caravan is awaiting transport to Adelaide, despite our assertion it is a write-off.

Neither party is admitting liability, so both insurers are disputing who pays what.

We are thankful to be alive, and for all those big-hearted people out there. We are busy perusing Caravan World road tests: maybe we’ll make ‘the big one’ next year.