Without feather ado, I’d like to in-duck-t this oversized owl – and I’m talon you, be prepared to fowl in love! Say hello to Chinute Chinute, who’s so nice they named her twice!
The 1.8-metre-tall avian landed outside the Northern Territory’s Supreme Court in 2010, and is modelled after a Dreamtime spirit who’s watched over the Top End for thousands of years. Aboriginal elder and artist Koolpinyah Barnes cast the blushing bird from bronze, based on a 45cm statue he cre-hoot-ed several years earlier.
“Chinute Chinute is a Larrakia spiritual ancestor who exists within the sacred site known as Stokes Hill adjacent to this walkway,” Koolpinyah told fascinated reporters at the time. “This ancestor manifests itself from time to time as the tawny frogmouth and stands as sentinel to the waterfront area.”
Chinute Chinute is anything but a hid-hen gem, being located a short stroll from the popular Smith Street Mall and the Big Frogs. I suggest spending time with our feathery friend before heading straight to the waterfront for a refreshing dip in the man-made beach, which isn’t just cheep, it’s free!
Darwinians have been doing owl the right things to attract Big Thing fanatics, with Chinute Chinute joining Colin the Turtle and the Giant Jellyfish as a much-loved member of the communi-tree.
A word of warning, this Big is a real gold digger!
Tall, dark and handsome, the Big Gold Panner Man sauntered into the historic inland city of Bathurst in 1979, taking up residence outside the lavish Gold Panner Motor Inn. He welcomes millions of visitors from Sydney each year, many of whom can barely pan-dle their excitement.
Not surprisingly, he’s become by far the most famous and celebrated thing about this bustling Gold Rush town, edging out the extraordinary Town Square and the fascinating Fossil and Mineral Museum.
But wait, there’s more! Big Thing lovers can actually tick two landmarks off their bucket list in one go, because the World’s Biggest Beard is also on display here!
That hasn’t helped him find gold, though, and after 42 years he’s yet to strike it lucky. But he has found the love and admiration of a nation, which is far more valuable than a precious yellow mineral.
Despite bending over to work with his impressively-realised mining equipment, the Big Gold Panner Man measures five metres from the bottom of his sturdy shoes to the top of his trendy hat. This makes him the second-tallest human Big in Australia after The King of Atlantis.
As one of the kindest and most respectful characters in the Land of the Bigs, this major miner proves all that glitters is gold – and there’s more than a nugget of truth to that!
Slip an extra Gordon on the barbie!
There was a brief moment of unpleasantness during my date with the Gold Panner, when he scooped Gordon into his skillet and threatened to fry him up for dinner. I know what you’re thinking – two big, tough, macho men marking their turf.
But, really, it was all Gordon’s fault. He was behaving in an antagonistic manner towards the Gold Panner and said his hat looked effeminate, so he had it coming.
Fortunately the kind-hearted giant let his much smaller rival get away, shaken but not stirred. You might not be so lucky next time, Gordon!
Hear ye, hear ye! ‘Tis I, Sir Bigs-a-Lot of Kingdom Bardot, and I doth welcome thee to a time when fearless warriors and ferocious dragons roamed the landscape of northern New South Wales. Please pop on ye olde face mask, as ’tis a spot of bubonic plague around – tee hee!
Just kidding, I’m really your friend Bigs Bardot, and it’s knights for you to join me as I share some kind swords regarding this 6.5-metre nobleman. The Big Knight’s been protecting the good folk of the Macadamia Castle since 1985 and, despite looking a bit scary at first lance, is one of the most pleasant fellows I’ve ever hel-met.
Indeed, you won’t find armour wonderful chap!
A quick note: The Big Knight was, shamefully, removed in early-2023. He has been purchased by the friendly folk at the Coffs Harbour Butterfly House, and I’ll let you all know when he’s been installed. The crux of this entry has been left unchanged, to allow us all to step back to a simpler, more whimsical time. Namaste.
Lord of the Sword
The Knight, as he’s officially known, is the creation of local botanist Ken McDonald, who long ran a plant stand at the castle and dreamed of selling more seeds to tourists. He set to work designing a dapper dude of enormous proportions, basing him on a suit of armour on display in the castle.
“I just measured everything and drew it up, then multiplied it by three,” Ken explained in the official history of the castle. “First thing I did was build a big rotating spit, just like you’d use to cook a pig. That way I could build the Knight’s frame onto it and rotate it around as I applied the fibreglass.”
Ken used steel pipes for the frame and flat steel strips for the Knight’s robust body. He had a little trouble balancing himself (the Knight, that is, not Ken), so the sword and lance were reinforced to keep him upright.
Lennox Head luminary and surfboard shaping superstar Bob McTavish was tasked with applying the intricate fibreglass details to the Knight – and was forced to come up with some creative solutions to complete the job.
“For the head, we went shopping in Ballina to find just the right sized beach ball, inflated it and coated it with resin,” jabbered Bob. “When it set, we deflated it and kept on adding more and more layers for strength.”
Boogie Knights
After three months of tireless work, the 6.5-metre-tall gentleman was unveiled to a delighted public. He was originally adorned with white armour and a red cross, which were added by local artist Mark Waller.
“It was supposed to be St George, you see,” Ken declared, “and I’ve always had this dream of building a dragon to lie down at his feet.”
It’ll be a maca-damn-ia shame if that doesn’t happen!
The Knight’s home has been through a number of owners and names over the years, and these days the Macadamia Castle is definitely worth taking a pecan at, with putt-putt golf, a small zoo, a salubrious cafe and sprawling shopping options. I enjoyed dropping my tough guy facade for a few moments to show off my inner Maid Marian in the gift shop. A Round Table discussion decided I looked delightful!
Those on a road trip along that NSW North Coast are often left ponder whether the Big Knight could defeat the nearby Big Prawn in a battle but honestly, our beautiful Bigs are peaceful beings, so you’d have to be medi-evil to contemplate that!
A Hard Day’s Knight
The Knight’s debonair swagger and pensive masculinity, though inspirational, have not been enough to stave off the threat of image-obsessed millennials. The new owners of the Castle – who have transformed it into some sort of petting zoo – saw little value in his history, bravery and importance to the community, and so tore him down in early 2023.
A hero to millions and an integral thread in the fabric of Knockrow, he was knocked down in the name of progress. The Knight’s muscular legs were smashed to bits, and he was dragged through the dirt like a filthy commoner. The good people of Knockrow wept as one. They’d lost their inspiration. Many turned to narcotics to fill the void.
Thankfully, they are willing to sell what’s left of The Big Knight to the highest bidder. Not wanting to be gazumped, I put in an offer of $1.2 million to purchase the shiny hunk, hoping he’d spearhead my grandiose plans for a sprawling medieval-themed gentlemens club up the road in Binna Burra.
Sadly it seems my cheque was lost in the mail, because he was snapped up by the happy chappies at the Coffs Harbour Butterfly House. Ah well, maybe I’ll buy the Big Banana instead!
As a passionate supporter of the LGBTQI+ community, it’s my pleasure to introduce Australia’s very first transgender Big – the voluptuous Wo-Man! Xe is loud and proud and shimmers like a disco ball, bedazzling all who venture into the backwoods of Wollombi.
This remote location is a surprising home for such a progressive Big, who’s happy to show off xis ample bosom and metallic member for anyone to see. Xe has legs for days and is the true monarch of the forest, so if you think I sound jealous, I am!
An abandoned service station, rotting furniture and desolate fields make for a lonely yet unique home for Wo-Man, and there’s even a rusting yacht on site, despite being hours from the coast. It’s like a scene from a bloodthirsty horror movie, with Wo-Man playing the part of the buxom beauty!
Beauty and the Beast
There’s trouble in paradise, however, and I must issue a serious warning to those planning to visit Wo-Man, as xis owner is a real oddball and not particularly welcoming of those who stop for a photo. In an unprovoked and hyper-aggressive display of male fragility, I was verbally and emotionally abused by the heavily-bearded tough guy as he grilled some sausages, leaving a group of disgusted customers gaping in disbelief. As the vicious words crashed down upon me, I sensed Wo-Man shuddering.
I would’ve thought someone who built a four-metre-tall trans friend to keep himself company in remote bushland would be more open-minded. Then again, if I owned a Big Thing – especially one as alluring as Wo-Man – I’d probably be a tad possessive, too!
My suggestion is to pull up, say a quick hello to Wo-Man as you snap a selfie, then drive off before the hate speech starts flying. Hopefully this gentleman’s sausage sizzling skills are better than his social abilities, because he certainly left a sour taste in my mouth!
My heart weeps to think of Wo-Man being trapped in such a toxic environment, but it’s not my place to get involved. Not just because xe is big enough to fend for xirself, but because xe simply wouldn’t fit on the back of my scooter. Hopefully one day xe’ll meet someone who treats xem the way xe deserves – maybe the hardworking Big Gold Panner, the brave Big Knight, the bashful Coota Giant, or even Matilda. Until then shine on, you crazy diamond!
You might think it’s silly, but I’m in love with a man who’s frilly! For a frill-a-minute encounter with a cold-blooded cutie, head to spectacular Somersby on the scenic Central Coast. Honestly, you’ll be reptiling from ear to ear when you meet this gigantic frilled-neck lizard… but a word of warning, he has a fiery side to him!
Frilly was painstakingly constructed by the geniuses at Natureworks in 1997, and found a home at the Australian Reptile Park shortly after its relocation from Wyoming. Along with the matriarch of Aussie Big Things, Ploddy the Dinosaur, he lured thousands of visitors to the region, and it was all smiles and crocodiles. Then tragedy struck.
In the dead of winter, July 17, 2000 – a date no lover of Bigs will ever forget – a ruthless fire ripped through the park, leaving a trail of terror in its wake. A nation celebrated as one when Frilly and Ploddy, the indestructible lizards of Oz, stepped through the hellfire to become beacons of hope for a mourning community.
There must be something in the water that makes this region’s Bigs imperishable, because the Big Prawn also survived a barbecue attempt. Hopefully Alan Davidson’s Balls and the Big Poppies won’t be next in the firing line!
Heartbreakingly, hundreds of innocent critters didn’t make it, with only a pig-nosed turtle named Miss Piggy and an alligator snapping turtle named The Terminator surviving. But it was the park’s owners saying, “I’ll be back!”
They scrambled to rebuild the Aussie Reptile Park, placing Frilly proudly atop at the entrance to welcome visitors. He was soon joined by the dashing Daryl Somersby and the sultry Lizzo to create a true mecca for Big Thing aficionados. With so many large-scale lizards on display, when are goanna visit?
“Bigs,” I’m sure you’re screaming, “the Big Rig – despite standing 140 metres tall and being an icon of the Maranoa Region – isn’t a Big Thing at all! He’s an actual oil drilling rig from the 1960s who was relocated to the centre of Roma in 2000 to attract tourists. If you’re going to include him, you might as well open the flood gates and induct large trucks, jumbo jets, wide-screen TVs and basketball players. Where does it stop, Bigs, where does it stop?”
I share your concern and trust me, writing this entry was one of the hardest things I’ve ever done. I’ve taken to the streets to protest claims the Big Banana is the oldest of the Bigs and waged bloody battles against those who won’t accept that the Big Bogan nothing more than a billboard due to being two-dimensional. He’s a sign, deal with it.
Though not proud of it, I was arrested after an online discussion regarding Singleton’s Big Sundial turned nasty. Sundials can be any size, so a particularly large one isn’t a Big! But the Big Rig’s different.
Unless you’ve clasped a Romanian farmer in your arms, his eyes welling with tears as he sobs that the Big Rig was the only thing that kept him going through years of drought; Until you’ve held the hand of a grandmother who only gets out of bed in the morning for the chance to worship the Big Rig; you don’t know how much this Big Thing means to the people of Roma. And I can’t take this away from them.
And I guess the statue of major miner John Machado is pretty large.
Rig-iculously large
So important is the Big Rig to this proud outback community that they’re currently spending a couple of million dollars to add an observation tower to the surrounding complex. It’ll offer sweeping views of the Big Rig, mining museum, the sweeping new tree walk exhibit… and the sunkissed desert as well, I assume.
If they build it big enough, you might even be able to see the Big Melon and the Big Sunflowers. It’ll be a drill-a-minute experience!
Yes, this might come as a shock, but some things are more important than the strict guidelines regarding what does and does not constitute a Big Thing. Roma’s Big Rig, by entrenching himself as the beating heart of this rural community, has earned his place in the pantheon of oversized roadside attractions. He’s Big. He’s beautiful. He’s a Thing.
Have you heifer herd the udder-ly moo-diculous story about the two-story cow who become a Sunshine Coast icon, fell into a life of depravity, climbed out of the gutter to become a leader of the lost, and eventually retired to a leafy farm near beautiful Toowoomba? Yeah, I know it sounds like a load of bull, but be-hoove yourself because it’s true!
The Big Cow was calved in 1976 in the rural village of Kulangoor, just down the road from the incredible Big Pineapple. She was the feature attraction of a working dairy farm, where visitors were able to yank a bemused animal’s boobies when not climbing inside the belly of this Big. What a delightful teat!
Seven times taller than the Ayrshire cows she’s modelled on, the beefy beauty was created by Huge Anderson…. sorry, make that Hugh Anderson. He enjoyed the task so much that he went on to craft the Big Bulls in Rockhampton, so certainly didn’t go into it calf-hearted.
Put Out To Pasture
Sadly the farm was abandoned and this bo-vine-looking Big fell into disrepair, much like the Prawn and Ploddy the Dinosaur. The farm was used for a number of purposes, most notably as a halfway house for recovering drug addicts. When I visited in 2017, an aggressive man with a spider tattooed on his forehead offered me a package of illegal drugs. “Sorry,” I told him as I handed over my wallet and shoes, “my only addiction is oversized roadside attractions.”
Whilst distressed to lose my Video Ezy membership card and collection of Tazos, I had no beef with the lunatic, and was pleased that the withdrawal symptoms from a nasty case of methamphetamine addiction would be somewhat mitigated by the opportunity to admire a giant cow every morning.
Our friend was soon cow-moo-flaged behind thick bushes, and forgotten in favour of Queensland’s ma-newer Big Things. She was clearly pasture prime and it seemed like this steak was cooked. Thankfully the Big Cow was donated to the happy chappies at Highfields Pioneer Village in 2019, and a few months later was sliced in half (ouch!) and trucked to her new home on the outskirts of beautiful Toowoomba.
“She had a bit of render fall off, probably from all that salt air on the coast, and some weather has gotten in from those holes,” village secretary Jody Dodds told a gobsmacked journo from the ABC. “She hasn’t had much TLC for a while. We think it will cost around $29,000 to have her back in perfect condition.”
Cow-abunga, dude!
A Manure Hope
On September 20, 2020, the redemption of the legendary Big Cow was complete, when she was unveiled to her hordes of rabid fans in a very moo-ving ceremony. The new owners even re-opened the moo-seum inside the Cow after decades of closure. She’s now calm and relaxed in her tranquil retirement home, and it’s no cow-incidence that attendance at the village has never been higher.
Alright, I’ve milked this story long enough, but I have a question; since when did cows have horns?
A quick note; whilst I’ve included a cheeky udder pun in this story, udder infections in dairy cows are a serious problem. They’re painful and potentially fatal if left untreated. I enjoy a giggle as much as anyone, but cows suffering due to unhygienic conditions and lack of adequate medical attention is no laughing matter.
