Below: Google Images                                                                                    This winner gave IT ALL

To think that GOD loves me

Autobiography                                                 Dieter R. Fischer                                                    Book 8

THE WINNER GAVE IT ALL   Index     ISBN 0 9577 426 8 1    Book 8 / Ch 9    Written/Pub. 26/12/09 - 1.1.10   



9. Mission Beach Possible

Cycling one last time along the most beautiful promenade called The Strand, I felt a sense of thankfulness and accomplishment. Passing a church with the door open I entered, sat down quietly and expressed my thankfulness to God.

On the Christian Radio I had heard that one of their sponsors was 'Kingfisher Furniture'. On my way north, cycling through the suburbs of Townsville, without giving it a thought, I actually passed their place, and remembered. Am I out of my mind to take note of this, write it into my diary, then into my auto-biography? Let others answer this question.   

Buying furniture was the last thing on my mind. Killing the miles, kilometre after kilometre, up the Bruce Highway was my task for three more days. I stopped at Bluewater for a drink, then Rollingstone for lunch. Opposite the hotel smoke was pouring from among the scrub. Emergency vehicles and police were busy keeping the blaze away from the highway.

For the first time, possibly ever on a bike, I came close to a bushfire. Several had been reported in many parts of Queensland around that time. (On the day of writing, in WA 38 houses were reported lost in serious fires). For some distance charred stumps, some still burning, were right beside the highway. Fortunately, it was not a very windy day.

The caravan park at Ingham was just a little out of town. Erecting the tent, cycling to town, buying food in the supermarket, eating it on a table in the main street, was my routine. There was a lovely camp kitchen, with a TV. I had it all to myself that night. It was Monday night, when ABC's 4 Corners is screened. One phrase on that program took my attention. It went into the diary: "... grains of sand to create a beach ...".

I had first compared all the magic I saw as grains of sand. (Book 1, Chapter 60). Later I created the concept of creating a beach. My mission was to use the many, many grains of sand, tiny thoughts, data, incidences and writing them down, to create beauty - paint a beach. This is why the phrase by the presenter on 4 Corners surprised me.

How ironic, my next overnight would be in a town with a beautiful, perfect name: Mission Beach. (On editing I added the word perfect - the first 2 letters, plus 55 ... makes sense).


At the town of Cardwell, as I ate lunch on the foreshore, I looked across to Hinchinbrook Island. Dreaming that one day, maybe there will be another trip to explore more of this magnificent coastline. Not long afterwards came the only real steep section, a minor challenge. It was nothing compared to the southern highlands out of Sydney in Nov. 08.

I amused myself thinking about the sign, two of my codes, which had indicated this 'steep' section ahead. STEEP CLIMB AHEAD ... 1.5 KM - 8 % ... 300 metres - 12%.

Not even in the wettest place in Australia, Tully, did I see any rain. The weather was superb, all along this great coastline. September was the best month I could have chosen. In the main street, however, it rained* a five cent piece. 

That's magic: "As I typed this sentence out of my speakers came the lyrics: "Holy Spirit rain down ..." (It's song number 8, side two of the Maranatha CD, Heart of Worship, Africa). I had not played music all morning. Love the timing...


A volunteer at the Tully Information Office had advised me against trying for Mission Beach that same evening. But how could a man, on a mission to create a beach, not include Mission Beach?

(As if a man born on 1053, named J. Swinner, would not see his name as J 's winner).

I arrived at Mission Beach just before dark. Ten Dollars for the night at the caravan park was good value, the cheapest I'd paid. It was located near a big supermarket. 


Many times did I picture myself along the Queensland coast retiring in an apartment by the beach.

ONE is the only one, in Mission Beach.

I liked the digits in the phone numbers, so took a photo:

7x79 = 553.

930 was that day's date, US-style - Sept 30th.

(During editing this chapter - during my race to publish this chapter while it's still 09, my wife put her head into my office: "Do you want to come and watch 'Dinner for One'? On TV once a year they play this legendary British comedy act, where the butler has to drink for all the imaginary dinner guests. He becomes more and more intoxicated ...) 

I said: "I can't, I'm really busy trying to finish this. How about dinner for one, here in my office?" (It was served promptly - thank you, once a year, dinner for one ...) 





Mission possible, Mission Beach, Queensland.


Leaving Mission Beach huge signs warned of cassowary's. This flightless bird is found in New Guinea, and Northern Queensland. It lives in tropical rainforests and is on the endangered species list. One huge road-sign made me smile: 'Speeding has killed cassowaries'.

All I can say, as a driving instructor, they should teach those creatures not to speed!

The town of Innisfail, the last, major centre before my destination Cairns, holds a special place in my books. It surfaced in a devastating way in Book 4, Chapter 34. A large part of Australia's banana crop was wiped out in one of the worst cyclones the region ever experienced.

In Book 6, Chapter 19 I even established a direct link between Innisfail, and the unfortunate magistrate in jail in Adelaide. Now approaching the doorstep of this important town, I struggled with the thought of tracing, and confronting the lady, who could hold the key in the case.

However, I decided against it. Thinking rationally, nothing would be gained by confronting a person and asking her to do, what she failed to do, eight years earlier. It may be even put her life in danger, if she suddenly would start to talk. The last thing I want is more innocent blood being shed. 

Likewise, to be whistle blowing to Federal Member of Parliament Bob Katter, would achieve little. He could only refer the matter to the Attorney General in Canberra, if he was at all interested in a case thousands of kilometres outside his electorate. 

The Attorney General in Canberra has received information from me in the matter. So has his predecessor. There was another reason, I was reluctant to open any wounds in this town, my plane back to Adelaide was to leave the very next day from Cairns.

The corner Edith and Owen Streets in Innisfail was easy to find. (Background story, Book 4, Chapter 32). The roundabout, where both streets meet, is virtually the centre of the shopping district. The office of the Federal MP is indeed right there, next to the Commonwealth Bank. I sat on a bench outside, just for a rest and thinking, thinking ...praying.

Many shoppers were walking by. Seeing my luggage some commented about it, but none stopped for a real chat. Maybe it was the two bananas on top of my luggage? Without realizing, I had just bought some bananas. Instead of storing them inside my luggage, I just strapped them on top of my bag. Afterwards I wondered, did passers-by think I was making a statement?



Corner Edith / Owen Sts. Innisfail. Qld.

Amazing, how this photo came out after scanning, totally unplanned.

H n Bob er -  is all that shows of the MPs name. (How ironic - that the o in Hon. is covered by a tree). That's God to whom all honour belongs! 

Could there be anything more amazing?

H n  = IT N, or 

BOB - in Book 8 or

er .... or


<<<  N IS T.







Wheeling my bike down Owen Street, I suddenly spotted this vehicle, Boss on the bonnett..

It had to be a Ford.

I decided to take the photo, after reading ion centre on the other side

Add a zero 486 to create 4860 - Innisfail.

Add a zero to 596, to create 5096 - Para Hills.

Where the Boss (J) lives. 



As I wheeled my bike through Innisfail I was impressed with the place: The clean streets and buildings, the church on the hill with the whitewashed walls, palm trees everywhere. This was the tropics, the place every young German's dreams about. Here I was, another dream come true in my 'old' age.

(A little trivia, as I edit minutes into 2010, my wife is exactly 62 years and 6 minutes old. Wishing her a Happy Birth, after the year's end, is my first duty every New Year). 

On the foreshore of the Johnstone River, toward the *Grace Street end, I sprawled out under a tree on the lush, green grass. With my helmet as pillow, my tummy full after lunch I thought: Life don't get better than this!

(*Google maps, I found out writing here, Grace Street is the next one to Edith Street - I see a spiritual principle here - what a great combination of lady's names). 

Suddenly, as if somebody tapped me gently on my face, something had landed right on my cheek. By the residue on my finger I knew, a bird had pooped on me, right in my face. 

Is there another spiritual lesson, a lesson from birds, here somewhere? Of course, there always is: God knows everything. When a sparrow falls to the ground and even the time and place where they're going to sh ... it is enough.

Remember, men: Whenever a bird does the sh .. bit. It's not what happened to you, but how you react to it. Be a man - find a balance between acceptance (tolerance) and love, which might be in the form of unpleasant confrontation. In the end it may save the day. 


I had no time to chase that bird, or any other. It was my final day turning those pedals on the Giant to reach Cairns via the Bruce Highway. The date was still Sept. 30th, the temperature 30 degrees, perhaps 30.9?

At a T-junction, in the middle of nowhere, a van suddenly stopped ahead of me. It was not a telephone stop, because I saw the driver light a cigarette, as he came to a halt. The number plate, why I see things I don't know, was that day's date... 309.

A moment later a young man stood on the side of the road, holding a tiny dog. My diary just has a question mark after the entry, meaning I suspected somebody was playing a game. 

After a brief refill of water and a coffee at Babinda and eating my evening meal in the town square at Gordonvale, I completed my journey, 'sailing' into Cairns at 5.45 PM.  


Arrival at Cairns, 30 Sep. 09, 17.45 hrs.  


My two giants, one with two wheels, brought me safely to this point, after covering over 2000 kilometres. A big Thank-you to both.  

At the first opportunity I asked a fellow cyclist at this intersection to take the photo.


As a reward I stayed the night in comfort, a reasonably priced motel at the edge of town. Nice word - com for t - it was also the name of the Motel, Comfort Inn. It was a great night in Cairns, as I was strolling along the Esplanade, soaking in the holiday atmosphere. I think I heard more German spoken in the sidewalk cafes than English.

I had had only a light meal in Gordonvale and was by now feeling a little hungry, I looked at the menus outside some restaurants. Oh, what numbers! Were they really the cost of a meal, or perhaps the cooks phone number? (Oh, James). 

 Nothing better value than a bowl of fried rice. Taking my order and the cash, the lady behind the counter of a roadside restaurant said: "That's $ 5.20, sorry $ 5.90. It will be about 10 minutes wait." The extra  70 cents, plus the waiting time added to 6.00. That's crazy, but the rice was delicious.

I did more crazy things in Cairns. Three thousand kilometres from home you don't worry so much; nobody knows you, you think. Sometime, after checking into my Motel at 157 ... Street, it came to me. At Innisfail I had looked through the telephone book and noticed a law firm with a 'Hi N' kind of name.

After moving into my Motel, which I had not booked in advance, I suddenly realized, I had booked into a place in the same street at the law firm - only 35 number different - 122.

This bugged me, or to say it in Christianese - it stirred my spirit. Maybe, I felt a little disappointed in myself, not having had the boldness to confront the MP or the lady connected to the Liddy case in Innisfail. But could I just walk into a lawyer's office and blow the whistle, cry for help, for my friend in jail in Adelaide?

This was my only night in Cairns, because the change of date in the Townsville football match. I was up at 4.30 in the morning, watching Christian TV for a while, before exploring Cairns on the bike. It was a superb morning. Europeans drive 1000 kilometre to Italy or fly halfway around the globe, to enjoy such weather.

At the end of the Esplanade at Pier Point hundreds of tourists were queuing up, ready to board the right boat, which would take them out to the Great Barrier Reef. It reminded me, when my wife and I took a day's journey on one of these boats. We visited Green Island, even did some snorkelling. At the time I was still recovering from my breakdown. What a difference, nine years later!


Cairns, Pier Point

Taking the photo I had nothing in mind, just to take a souvenir photo. It was totally unplanned, how the letters AN SPIRIT and OCEAN came out. (I only trimmed the top of the photo).

On the left are only flags of European countries - on the right Non-European. The original photo shows 11 flags (on left) and 12 on the right. Germany was the fifth from the top (not shown). (The red, white, blue is the Dutch flag).

The 4 flags that feature crosses are all Scandinavian countries: Finland, Denmark, Sweden, *Norway.

*Unusual, but true - how often would I google the colours of the flag of Norway? How often, do we have a visitor, holidaying from Norway, at our house? On the day scanning the above photo, both happened.  (The young man from Norway, spent much time in Mannheim, Germany, where he met our other friend, mentioned in Chapter 8). 


Enjoying this Mecca of tourists, it was almost too hard to imagine, I would be back in Adelaide that same night. I tried to make the most of the hours I had in Cairns, cycling along the Esplanade, walking around a huge new shopping centre and generally just being there. 

In the same street as my Motel, but at the other end of town, my brain suddenly switched to its extra-sensory mode. It's hard to explain. I tell it as it was: I saw two things almost at the same time, which made me stop and turn around: a green straw, shaped like a J and laying on the roadway. Then I saw above it the name of the apartment above - EL CENTRO. 

Outside, were two motorbikes or scooters, with interesting licence numbers. (Aren't we, both the reader and I, glad that pushbikes don't have registration plates. Imagine all the extra work, diary entries and photographs?)

After scanning, the word court came into my mind from Chapter 7. The two motorbikes were both facing the Cairns Courthouse. 


Cairns Courthouse 1/10/09

 The way the 2 two-wheelers had been parked, facing the courthouse, made me think.

The number on the right - a 4 takes us back to Innisfail.

The number on the left was the one, which I had contemplated all morning - should I visit the law-firm and talk about the big stuff up in Adelaide Magistrate's Court, which sent a magistrate behind bars innocently? 

The 'HI-N' law firm was at 122 ... in the same street. 


Still dressed in my bike-shorts I cycled there and enquired, if it was possible to talk to a lawyer. I had hoped to get a time slot later in the day. To my surprise, the receptionist came back, saying I could see somebody right then, my dress code would not matter. 

My 15 minutes with a young lady lawyer proved rather fruitless. Not only can't they intervene in legal matters interstate, her advise to see South Australia's State ombudsman proved very wrong. (I already explained why in Chapter 2). But I loved her name - Carina - plus t and she might as well be called Gale.

 A thought on editing, how easy does Gale become gate - L to t; taking it further - L death, if you know German. One man's death indeed opened the gate, into which all are invited to enter! Love it!


Waiting to board at Cairns airport, my wife would call it feeding my paranoia, I deciphered the number 122 on my boarding pass - Gate 21, Seat 2D. (What a great gate number). 

On the Brisbane to Adelaide section I sat in seat 19 C. What did I see - the date - 1/10/09, not a single digit wasted.

In the plane's airline magazine (Oct. 09) was this little brainteaser: 

Spot the odd word out: Lass, Date, Ages, Kind, Go?

 Answer: Lass - the rest goes with man.  

Is the real answer a 1/5 code: Word 1, Love LA -  Word 5, Go! 

I just noticed how word 2 D.ate would make sense? I could go on ...


If all this were nothing, I'd love to ask a Professor of Psychology at the JCU, what he or she thinks of my ability to take random data from my immediate environment into fit it into my strange code, which started with .... (How did it all start?)

If this Professor were to ask, why I was in Cairns, I would honestly answer: "Since Australia is girt by C, and I had previously cycled a U from Adelaide to Brisbane, I just wanted to complete the J to create JCU?

Would this gentleman reply: "And what does JCU mean, apart from James Cook University?" 

I'd answer, in my rather shy way: "Sh ... it's a secret! 

- - - - - - - - -



On the day of writing, the last day of 2009, I watched a disturbing report on Germany's Deutsche Welle TV-Journal. The featured item was the continuing unrest in Iran, the fight of the regime against the opposition, who still feels the election held earlier in the year, was not free and fair.

The show trials, the bloodshed, the arrests and killings of people who simply want freedom, stirred my spirit. If the reports were true, not merely western propaganda, which also exists, it raised a big paradox in my mind. How can a country, governed by a spiritual leader, who supposed to represent God, be behind such deception, violence and murder?

I felt urged to send a rare email to DW-TV. 

(The English translation follows)


Subject:  Hitler 1936 Iran 2009

Laut ihres Tagesthema im Asien Journal steht ein geistlicher ganz oben als regierende Macht. Wie kann dieser im Namen Allah's es zulassen, Gegner des Regimes zu behandeln, wie es 1936 in Deutschland geschah?

Was mir total unlogisch ist, dass angesichts dieser Brutalitaet das fast ganz gottlose Europa, den Islam toleriert und sogar foerdert?

Das Problem ist, dass Europa gottlos geworden ist. Der Islam hat es sich zum Ziel gemacht, dieses Vakkum zu fuellen.

Ob die Mehrheit in Europa glaubt, dass der Gott der Bibel Gott, der einzige Gott und Jesus sein unbestrittenes Oberhaupt, ist unwichtig. Es braucht nicht abgestimmt werden, keine Umfrage ist notwendig.

Ich darf Ihnen versichern, was im Brief an die Phillipper in der Bibel steht, wird Tatsache werden. Zeitlich passend darf ich Sie an diese radikale Machtergreifung Jesu erinnern - and der Schwelle von 2010: "... alle Kniee werden sich beugen unter dem Namen Jesu... "(Phillipper 2, Verse 10).

Alle Voelker der Welt werden unter der extremen Lehre Jesu leben: "Liebe deinen neachsten, wenn's sein muss, gib dein Leben fuer ihn."

Wie der extreme Islam aussieht haben wir heute Morgen so drastisch im Journal gesehen - nicht anders als das Nazi Regime 1936 - von aussen sieht alles schoen asu. Innen ist es corrupt, machtsuechtig, gewalttaetig.

Die Welt muss sich entscheiden - jedes Nation hat freie Wahl - extemes Christentum, oder Islam - beides kann nicht zusammen existieren!

Viele Gruesse aus Adelaide, Australien

Dieter Fischer

PS  Toleranz ist gut, manchmal - Liebe ist besser, im.mer!!



Subject: Hitler 1936  -  Iran 2009

According to your feature today in the Asia Journal, a clergyman stands right at the top as governing force. How can he allow that those opposing the regime, in the name of Allah, are treated like those in 1936 in Germany?

What I find totally unlogic - despite this brutality, Europe, almost totally godless, tolerates Islam, even supports the spread of it.

The problem is Europe's godlessness. Islam has the aim in mind to fill this vaccum. If Europe believes that the God of the bible is God, the only God, and Jesus His undisputed head figure, is unimportant. No need to take a vote, or conduct a survey. 

I can assure you, what is written in the letter to the Philippians in the bible, will come to pass. Very timely, may I remind you of the radical power-claim of Jesus - on the doorstep of 2010: "... every knee shall bow at the name of Jesus..." (Phil. 2, 10).

All nations will live under the extreme teaching of Jesus: "Love your neighbour, if necessary, give your life for him."

What extremist Islam looks like, we saw so dramatically this morning in your Journal - no different to the Nazi regime in 1936 - on the outside everything looks fine. Inside it's corrupt, power-hungry and violent.

The world must decide, every nation has a free choice - either extreme Christianity, or Islam. Both cannot co-exist.

Many greetings from Adelaide, Australia

Dieter Fischer

PS  Tolerance is good, sometimes. Love is better, al.ways.         


Typing the last word, al.ways, fits perfectly with im.mer.

The way of L is better - - al.ways.


(Please note: God willing, the next chapter will be published at the end of January, after a trip to NZ (New Zealand). 


Chapter 10