Pondering what you could do in a gap year? Want to test yourself, and explore somewhere fresh and new, but without spending the bank account-smashing levels of cash overseas-tripping requires? There are options in your own backyard. I don’t mean out the back of your Mum and Dad’s—that probably doesn’t offer anything more exciting than playing goon of fortune—I mean the massive backyard that is Australia’s inland. Amongst the options are seasonal work like fruit picking or cotton chipping, or you could serve Bundy-guzzling, bearded folk at a bush pub. But as good a way as any to experience the Australian interior is to have a lash at one of its most iconic roles—the Jackaroo or Jillaroo.
Jackaroos and Jillaroos (or ‘station hands,’ as they’ll be referred to from here on, for simplicity) are trainees who work on sheep or cattle stations, or large farms. They generally work with livestock—like mustering cattle, or droving sheep, or tagging goats—but there can be a whole range of different things they do, from weed control to water systems management. Basically, Station Hands assist farmers in their day-to-day duties. You might imagine them as someone who travels everywhere by horse, and spends their days slogging at the ground with a blunt hoe. But your modern Station Hand is likely to be cruising around in an air-conditioned cabin listening to Kanye, or using wireless technology to simultaneously monitor a farm’s water storage levels and how their Twenty20 team is going.
If your average Station Hand looks a bit different to what you imagined—with their latte in one hand and iPad in the other—don’t be fooled into thinking that this work isn’t taxing. If you took it on, you might find yourself wrestling monster-sized Dorper Rams onto the boards of a shearing shed, or tearing your hands to shreds putting barbed wire on a fence. But there’d be cool shit to way more than balance out any of the not-so-fun stuff. It will depend on the nature of the station as to exactly what work you do, but rest assured it will be different to anything you’ve done before, and awesome.
You might get to help round up a scattered herd of cattle in a chopper. You might get to ride a horse, or shoot a gun, or fang around on a bush-bashing four-wheeler. You might get to learn about growing crops, and land conservation practices, and how to erect a reliable fence. There’s a surprising diversity of work and adventure to sink your teeth into.
But that’s one side of things—being a Station Hand generally involves living in the country for the duration, and you might be thinking that’s not your cup of billy tea. What are you going to do after knock-off each day? You like your malls, your cinemas, and your Maccas—how are you supposed to survive without anywhere to go but a country-miles-away country pub? How will you check Facebook—do they have internet access out in the sticks?
Well, the truth is…country life is different. For one thing, people tend to be more friendly—not everyone is a gap-toothed Cletus or rifle-carrying psycho. It’s a cliché that bumpkins are friendly, but it’s grounded in reality—why wouldn’t you be of a happier disposition if you didn’t have to spend your days crushed within peak hour traffic or shouldering your way through hordes of pedestrians? If you were to decide to give Station-Handing a go, you might become a happier person yourself, what with all the open spaces and fresh air and friendliness.
You’d also get to meet new people at different sorts of gatherings, like impromptu scrub parties, or B&S balls, or the laid-back country pubs that are choc-full of fresh-faced wholesome country youths (yeah, okay, and red-faced, dirt-covered old Bundy-guzzlers too). You’d get to learn all sorts of genuinely cool skills, like how to put up a ringlock fence or drive a Chaser Bin. And you’d get to befriend all sorts of animals that you might otherwise never be exposed to, from super-smart kelpie dogs to super-innocent poddy lambs to super-oinky fat piglets. And yes, you are more likely than not to have access to mobile reception and internet—you’ll be moving to another part of Australia, not to an earlier point in history or a fifth world country.
There’s something deeply satisfying, something primal, about working on the land. You’ll feel like you’ve earned your money, and you’ll feel a connection with the place you’ve earned it in if you have it in you to try being a Station Hand. It offers you not just a job, but an experience, and one that will be as awesome as any other gap year option available. So what are you waiting for? In the words of Russell Coight—time to hit the road.
What it's actually like to be a Jillaroo or Jackaroo
We spoke to Bobbie*, a cattle-wrangling, nature-loving, small-town gal from North Wales in the UK who worked as a jillaroo in Far North Queensland, what the gig was really like.
What is a jillaroo/jackaroo?These are the names used for either a man or a woman that works on a cattle station - jillaroo for a woman, and jackaroo for a man.
What made you want to be a jillaroo?
I've always loved horse riding and being outdoors; I've been riding horses since I was about five years old. So when I made the decision to travel, I knew that working in the outback was going to be on my bucket list; I was going to try and push myself to do things that I had never done before and things that you can’t do in my little home town of north wales!
I also used to love old cowboy and western movies, and loved the idea of being in that environment - that fast paced, wrangler cattle industry.
When I came to Australia, a friend and I stayed in Brisbane for a couple of weeks whilst we found our feet and it wasn’t long before I left the city and started my adventure, and that happened in the far north of Queensland.
How did you land the job?
When I left Brissy and headed to Far North Queensland, I managed to get myself some farm work; taking tourists on horse riding tours in the Daintree rainforest.
Doing that I'd started to meet different types of people, including station owners and farmers (it's not what you know, it's who you know) and I ended up seeing bull rides with them. So I was really lucky that I did horse tours as part of my mandatory farm work for my visa and didn’t have to do fruit picking. It was an amazing experience, and that’s where I met my travel best friends.
How long did you do jillarooing for?
After doing horse riding tours for a couple of weeks, I ended up being offered a job on a station. Myself and one of my friends ended up being a caretaker in the outback - I'm talking no phone service or other houses in sight.
That was where I first was introduced to being a jillaroo. We mustered cattle on horseback or quad bikes; there were helicopters, utes and a heap of people out at the camp – I stayed at this one station for a couple of weeks and that is how I had my foot in the door.
About 12 months later after I travelled more of Australia I came back to the far north having remained in contact with my Australian friends; I landed a bigger gig- a 1.2 million acre station.
We went out there for a visit and I eventually got to meet the station owners and enthusiastically agreed to work out there. At this station, we would muster cattle over days, and having 3000 head of cows (big mobs) we would be on horseback for days staying at different camps at the station and the “mustering seasons” would last weeks and weeks.
It was amazing because it was the actual outback; it was hard work and every day was different - I had no phone reception or anything like that. But I didn’t think twice about it and it didn’t bother me at all, I didn’t care what someone was doing on facebook on the other side of the world - I had cows to muster and jobs to do. It was my new life. I ended up working at this station for several months and then came back during each mustering season for a few more years.
What did a normal day look like?
Every day was different, but typically, I would wake up between 5-6am and have my morning coffee and brekkie, then pack a lunch, go out for the whole day, come back, have dinner with everybody and be in bed by 7:30pm!
Tasks were varied and could be tough - some days I might load up a truck of lick (what you feed the cattle during dry season), and I would drive through all the different paddocks miles away - you would have to remember where the troughs were!
I always used to forget. It's easy walking around a city but in the depths of the outback each tree can look the same. I eventually got better at it, but still I always had to write and draw pictures of where gates, fences and troughs were.
Sometimes we had to go around the paddocks and fix fences and sort water troughs out, even pull cows out of mud! During muster seasons we'd have to get up around 4am – we would feed the horses, pack lunch as we would be out mustering all day, then the helicopter would muster mobs of cows together.
We had to hold them there until the pilot said to start moving; the aim was to keep all the cows together and move to the yards. We would have cows trying to run out so we’d use our horses to keep them all together - it was exciting and the horses loved it too! We would laugh and joke all day over the radios.
As part of processing cattle we would have to dehorn and castrate as well as brand; separating cows into different groups. After a few days we would walk mobs back to certain paddocks and truck some out to the meatworks.
I remember one time we'd had heavy rain and there was a cow stuck in the dam and we had to pull them out, which was quite dramatic but common out on a cattle station!
What's your most memorable moment of your jillaroo gap year?
This is a hard one as I have so many different memories, but I remember this one morning - it was just a normal kind of day - I remember having a coffee by myself at the homestead outside my cabin, the sun was just coming up and everything was just pink, you could see all the wallabies and the horses in the background - and I just remember sitting there and feeling this big sensation of calm and love for my life.
I had no thought process of wondering what other people were doing around the world. I didn't care that I couldn't use my phone, or my social media or anything like that. I was just very much living in the moment. So that was a surreal experience.
But there's been so many funny experiences too, like when a mob of cattle had split up and gone everywhere and I was galloping around on my horse trying to put them back together - that was exhilarating.
We had so many awesome days where we would be at the creek, fishing and camping just for fun when we weren’t working.
How can you become a jillaroo or jackaroo?
If you want to do a gap year on a cattle station or spend some time mustering, I would put yourself out there and get to know local farmers in your nearest town, cattle station owners and basically anyone who is a part of that world and ask if they need any help or would be willing to let you work on their farm. Connections are really useful!
There are several pages on Facebook specifically for station owners looking for workers, and you can also go out as a nanny to look after the station kids If you don't live near a small town or farm, then you could regularly check job sites like Indeed and Seek for job listings - look out for station hand.
Any words of wisdom for younger people?
Most importantly, say yes to every new experience and to things that you wouldn’t usually do; things you don’t think you can do or worry about. Just do it. Grab every opportunity with both hands and don’t let go!
Know that you've got to push yourself. When on a station, you experience a different type of teamwork - like when you're really tired at the end of the day but you've still got stuff to do.
I found that I really pushed myself physically; I couldn’t and wouldn’t let myself be the person that said ‘I'm too tired, I can't do it’. If everyone else was pushing through, then so could i! On the big station, I was the only jillaroo woman that was part of the mustering group, so that gave me extra drive to try my hardest.
You have to go into this type of environment knowing that it's not going to be easy, and not every day is sunshine and rainbows even though it was the most amazing experience of my life.
There were days when I was like 'oh my God, why do we have to get up at this time?'. There were days when it sucked because it was really hot and I was exhausted. Or that I wanted to go shopping, but the closest shop was hours away - but that was a fleeting thought because honestly, it's all so worth it.
I went to this station thinking one way and left open-minded and thinking another. My idea of large stations and of farmers is very different to what it once was; I have a new found respect for the industry and the love that owners have for their animals, land and workers.