A Family Tradition of Mayhem: Inside Australia’s decades-Long Water Balloon War
Table of Contents
For most, New Year’s Eve signifies fresh starts and reflection. But for one Australian family, it’s a declaration of war – a decades-long, large-scale water balloon battle waged against each other and the town of Fremantle, Western Australia.
since 1977, the Shea family has hosted an enormous New Year’s Eve/Day party for their expansive clan – currently numbering 115 cousins – alongside friends and acquaintances. The event, steeped in family tradition, features copious amounts of food, a custom-made “mushroom” esky keeping beverages cold, and spirited gatherings. However, it’s the ensuing water balloon conflict that truly sets this festivity apart.
The Genesis of a Watery Warfare
What began as playful antics quickly escalated into an annual ritual. As the party progresses,a palpable tension builds. Children become increasingly energized, and eventually, groups of Sheas abandon their plates and take positions along the street, utilizing vehicles as cover. The first water bomb marks the official commencement of hostilities.
“No one knows who throws the first volley,” one family member recounted, “but once one bomb bursts against a bonnet, bonce or ballsack, it’s on for young and old.”
Wise elders act as self-appointed umpires, monitoring traffic – with a legendary ability too shout “CAR!” – and protecting unsuspecting civilians. Neighbors either seek refuge indoors or observe the spectacle. A dedicated “engineering corps” replenishes the water balloon supply from a front yard spigot, while others ferry balloons from the cellar and porch.
The Mobile Citadel: Mum’s White Van
At the heart of the Shea family’s New Year’s eve tradition is a giant white van, serving as a mobile fortress and a safe haven for the youngest participants. The van’s roof provides a temporary respite from the aerial bombardment, albeit a loud one.
Though, for three decades beginning in 1977, the van also served as the launchpad for a more audacious phase of the conflict: raids on the town of Fremantle itself.
“Nothing felt as good as bursting a balloon on a sloshed goofball’s boat shoes before zooming away yelling ‘Happy new year!'” a participant recalled, followed by the unavoidable chorus of colorful retorts.
Rules of Engagement & Community Impact
These town raids, involving up to ten nightly excursions, operated under a surprisingly strict code of conduct. Targets were carefully selected: feet and walls were fair game,but homeless individuals,pregnant women,babies,peopel with disabilities,and anyone appearing dangerous were off-limits.Throwing while stopped at a red light was prohibited, and police were to be avoided at all costs.
The raids weren’t universally appreciated, but the family remembers few formal complaints, aside from the occasional irate individual hurling a longneck bottle in their wake. They also faced annual challenges from the Fremantle fire department, who would spray them with a hose from in front of the fire station. One year, an elderly family friend received an unexpected drenching when she failed to close her window in time.
A War Winding Down
The town raids subsided in the early 2000s after a police intervention involving two pregnant cousins and a threat of arrest. The conflict later shifted back to the family street,becoming even more intense. While tactics evolved – incorporating water blasters and innovative filling devices – the core tradition endured.
However, even this interfamily war is showing signs of decline. Today’s teenagers are more preoccupied with their iPhones, and older family members are less inclined to risk injury.
Despite a lack of remorse, talk of a revival persists.So, if you find yourself unexpectedly soaked while leaving a Fremantle craft brewery, look up – you might just catch a glimpse of a white van speeding away, and a shout of “Happy new year!” – a sentiment, the Sheas insist, is genuinely meant.
Keep reading
