Clyde Fenton made a name for himself as the first flying doctor in the Northern Territory. He flew from 1934 to 1939, very often making precarious landings on unimproved ground. Evidently he was considered something of a nuisance by the Civil Aviation Department, but he got what he wanted because of the unparalleled emergency service he offered in a place where ‘Usually the patient either died or recovered before the doctor reached him’. 

His autobiography is entertaining, but focussed on the aviation aspects of his work. He will relate a tale of getting in and out of an isolated station over two or three pages, but dismiss the patient with one or two lines. Here is an account of a tooth extraction typical of the humour and practicality of the times: 

p3 “Well,” I said, “if your toothache is really bad, you had better forget your cattle. I can’t possibly do the job here. I have no tools.”

“Aw, Gorblimey, Doc, haven’t you got a toolkit in that old crate of yours? What’s wrong with a ruddy pair of pliers?”

This staggered me a bit, but the drover was very insistent, and his mate piped up and said he wanted one extracted also. It was crude job, I’m afraid. There was, of course, no anaesthetic, not even a swig of whisky. The bite of the pliers was too wide for the tooth, and overlapped (and loosened) the one on either side. The patient sat on a log while I went to work with the greasy implement, and after a struggle which was painful for both of us, removed the offending fang. Encouraged by this success I called for the next victim, but found that his enthusiasm had rapidly waned. His tooth wasn’t so bad after all, and he thought he could wait until he got to the hospital at Wyndham.

 

Evidently there was a spat between Fenton and the Australian Inland Mission, founder of the Royal Flying Doctor Service under the Reverend John Flynn. Fenton records that ‘I tried to interest one of its leaders-Rev. John Flynn- in my scheme as far back as 1928, but his reply was ‘One man, One job’.  (ie: The Pilot flies, the Doctor stays in the back with the patient). Page* records that ‘Fenton was a dedicated flyer, expert and adventurous, but he was a high-spirited young man of unorthodox behaviour. He enjoyed the good things of life and had an amused disdain for authority. Possibly Flynn thought these characteristics would not fit the flying doctor image, and so established the “One man, One job” rule by way of polite refusal. 

Fenton’s anxiety about epileptics establishes the wisdom of Flynn’s rule: “It was a ghastly prospect: what in hell should I do if he threw a fit in the air? There was only one thing I could think of; I sneaked into the hangar and procured the largest spanner available.” 

Fenton describes the aborigines as satisfying patients who only attended if something was actually wrong. Describing a spearing of an aborigine as ‘casual’, Fenton’s white sense of superiority makes him miss what I observed myself in the Territory: that spear wounds were communally prescribed punishments inflicted in specific body regions by expert marksmen. It was not so miraculous that his patient survived.

Fenton describes vomit bags flying in your face in the old open cockpit planes, and trying to land with a brown snake between his legs in the cockpit. Another amusing flight saw him trying to get a patient with a homemade splint on a broken leg into and out of the cockpit of his biplane Gypsy Moth. “Seldom, I suppose, has anyone had a more interesting or exciting occupation.” “Many people have expressed surprise that I survived to tell this story; no-one is more amazed than I.” After a crash at Darwin airport he writes “The perils were past; the humorous aspects stood out in high relief. And there is no greater tonic to the soul than tragedy narrowly averted.”

Despite the daredevil bravado, Fenton gets more worried and cautious as the narrative proceeds, and reveals some anxiety. He admits ‘I was frequently involved in arguments with various authorities’; and that he found alcohol helpful. The story closes as he enlists in WWII. 

For your journal? In the first quote Fenton advises a drover ‘you had better forget your cattle’. Is that good advice?

In the bush today you will find many farmers difficult to coax into hospital. Why is this? Have you encountered anyone who said their occupation made them reluctant to enter the hospital system? Take note of how doctors win over reluctant patients and comment on their techniques. 

Evidently the Rev. John Flynn thought about occupational safety. Is there an aspect of occupational health that strikes you as in need of reform- for either the general public, or the medical profession in particular? Glaring contemporary examples of gross negligence are collapsed buildings, with no concrete supports between floors, in Bangladesh; and underground mine safety in China. What roles could a doctor possibly take after such disasters? 

What might increasing conflict with authorities and plentiful alcohol consumption tell us about Clyde Fenton’s state of mind? What should authorities do when faced with such a doctor? What should you do? 

References and Further Reading 

Fenton C (1947) Flying Doctor  Georgian House Melbourne 

*In Page M (1977) The Flying Doctor Story 1928-1978 Rigby, p138