Ron Swan has dressed down for the afternoon. The full regalia can get a bit heavy in the muggy heat, so he has gone for a more casual style of the full Balmoral kilt and a light shirt. His grandson is on the grounds in a similar outfit, and when Ron speaks of him, there's a touch of familial pride.
"His father's 6'10"," he said, "He'll shoot up too."
Mr Swan, the former mayor and one-time policeman, takes your hand in a firm country shake and pulls you in as he turns to his organisers, who have been helping run the return of the Clans on the Coast Celtic festival.
"Do we have any more kilts?" he cries, never releasing your hand. At that moment, just a few steps in from the gates, you realise you could have just fallen out of time and come up immersed in a generations-old tradition.
Some of the most prominent clans in the country have come to represent the tartan for the weekend and share the culture that has spread throughout the world.
Warwick Murray, the state commissioner of the Murray Clan Society of NSW, steps up from his cup of tea in a traditional military attire: a flawless white moustache under a pith helmet, kilt and khaki.
Mr Murray has come from the Manning Valley, where he said festivals like these see families come out to learn something about their heritage. He's a former military man who stands and speaks like all military men do: neatly.
"Mine was the Royal NSW Regiment," he said, "My grandfather out there in the photograph was one of the first who was in that."
He wears a bright red plumage on his helmet for his grandfather, who was also a member of the Black Watch. The matching flashings in his socks are another touch. He could have stepped out of history and lives and breathes his Scottish roots with a kind of ever-burning pride.
"With the Scottish gear, everything means something," he said, "Some people take it very seriously. Others take it with a grain of salt. Just enjoy it. It's a lot of fun.
Then, cheekily: "Whenever you have a Celtic thing like this, the Scottish sort of swamp everything. The Irish play banjos and sing sad songs, the Welsh have leeks, and the people from the Isle of Man have cats with no hair.
"The Scots come in with a pipe band that just blows everyone away."
Mr Murray's tent looks over the Jacobites who have set up camp near the centre of the grounds. They're backed by the sheaf toss, and as the pipes strike up, a pair of them skip in a little jig. They're beaming.
Alex Faber is a member of the Highland Rose Jacobite Living History group. He joined after he was given a sword for his 21st birthday and describes the outfit as a band of amateur historians with a passion for the culture and history of the Celts.
"We decided that we wanted to join in with these events rather than just look at them," he said. He wears his dirk and backsword on his belt and a woollen beret.
"The Celtic culture throughout a lot of history has spread to many places," he said, "Back to the Gauls and the Roman Empire, and is still living around the place.
"There's a very romantic part to it. The Jacobites at that time were a bit rough and ready; they were certainly the underdogs, but they made it work."
Opposite the Jacobite encampment, William Morgan and his dad, Steve, were in full epic armour. They and young James Cameron had come out with their live-action roleplaying group, Battlecry Fields of Ashinor. It's a high-intensity sport that puts athleticism against fierce creativity, where players form unique characters and live them through contests and simulated battles.
"With each character, you have a different personality," Mr Cameron said, "My ravager, for example, is quite bloodthirsty but also quite honourable. My high priest is more of a noble character who isn't morally ambiguous."
Mr Cameron has been deaf since birth and said the chance to live through his creation's experience was a way for him to express himself. When he takes to the field, he describes himself as a tank, wearing as many as 20 kilograms of armour and heavy weapons.
Mr Morgan said he and his son had started on the sport with little more than an old pair of work pants and a t-shirt. Now, they do battle in chainmail, full plate and arms.
"William was never really into soccer," he said, "But this is a team sport, and we've got a whole world map that they've worked out and then battle like Risk where you can take different territories.
"It's good exercise. You're running around on a soccer field but in armour."
Mr Swan conceived of the two-day festival more than a decade ago as a way of recognising the Hunter's Celtic heritage while raising money for cancer research. The weekend marked the first time it had returned since the COVID-19 pandemic and was held at Raymond Terrace's Lakeside Sports Complex on Leisure Way.
The weekend-long event included traditional heavy event competitions, dance, music, art and games and continued Sunday from 8am.
Simon McCarthy
Simon McCarthy is a journalist working at the Newcastle Herald in NSW. He writes news and features, and produces video and multimedia, for the Herald and Herald Weekender magazine. He contributes regularly to the Newcastle Herald’s daily Topics column, and is the co-creator and producer of the Toohey’s News podcast. McCarthy has worked as a journalist in regional NSW since 2013. He joined the newsroom of the Newcastle Herald in 2017 from the Northern Daily Leader in Tamworth where he worked from 2015 to 2016.
Simon McCarthy is a journalist working at the Newcastle Herald in NSW. He writes news and features, and produces video and multimedia, for the Herald and Herald Weekender magazine. He contributes regularly to the Newcastle Herald’s daily Topics column, and is the co-creator and producer of the Toohey’s News podcast. McCarthy has worked as a journalist in regional NSW since 2013. He joined the newsroom of the Newcastle Herald in 2017 from the Northern Daily Leader in Tamworth where he worked from 2015 to 2016.
