If you drive along the King’s Highway between Canberra and the New South Wales south coast at the right moment, you may just catch a glimpse of a knight in shining armour on a jet-black Friesian horse emerging from a driveway, guarded by two turrets and a portcullis, and trotting across the road.
Darrell Bossley is lord of his castle in the town of Nelligen, and the 77-year-old is dodging oncoming semi-trailers to cross the road and practise his skills-at-arms: jousting, mounted archery and swordsmanship.
Sir Darrell, as he is known, is the oldest medieval jouster in the world.
What is jousting?
Jousting – the so-called sport of kings, before the title was inherited by horseracing — sees two mounted knights gallop towards each other both armed with shields and 3-metre long poles called lances.
Competitors score points by striking the other knight with enough force to splinter their lance, or by knocking their opponent off their horse.
With horses galloping, the collision between jousters can see up to 80 kilometres per hour of impact smash a knight straight in the chest.
Popular in the Middle Ages, jousting was reintroduced to Australia in the 1970s and has experienced increasing popularity with the rise of medieval fairs and tournaments.
The international jousting community is a tight-knit group. There are just 15 jousters in Australia. Most competitors retire from the sport in their mid-40s, or younger. However, Mr Bossley is an abnormality in that regard.
A retirement hobby
Mr Bossley took up the sport at the age of 66 after retiring and impulsively buying a breed of medieval warhorse while honeymooning in Tasmania.
“People ask me why I started jousting at 66, and I say, ‘Because it’s easier than starting at 67,'” he said.
The former blacksmith, professional rodeo bullrider, black-belt karate instructor and keen horseman had never heard of jousting before buying the horse and thought the 15th-century Italian helmet on the owner’s table was for pot plants.
But Mr Bossley had stumbled upon a hobby that perfectly combined all of his passions.
Why did he take it up?
“Something different to do,” Mr Bossley said.
“It’s an adrenaline rush, like any sport.
“If it’s more dangerous, it’s more adrenaline rush. It’s a lot of fun.”
Mr Bossley travels around Australia and overseas to compete in historically accurate medieval tournaments against other jousters, sometimes less than half his age.
He’ll spend the whole day in his suit of armour — “like sitting inside an oven” on hot days, he said — entertaining the crowd, discussing the intricacies of the medieval era and passing on his passion to the next generation. For Sir Darrell, there’s no place he’d rather be.
“What little boy doesn’t want to be a knight when they grow up?” he said.
Living out a childhood dream
I, for one, absolutely wanted to be a knight when I grew up.
As a child, I crafted a homemade bow to shoot targets from a little backyard fort made from upcycled incinerator bricks, dreaming about tales of Robin Hood and King Arthur.
When I made a bucket list aged 16, learning to joust was the second item listed – a dream I never imagined would be realised.
Who better to teach me than Sir Darrell?
Before we can hit the training paddock, we don more than 40 kilograms of 1314 German armour – a process not dissimilar to cricketers padding up to bat, except it takes an hour and requires two or three sets of helping hands.
“If you don’t wear armour, you’re a shish kebab,” Mr Bossley said.
Armour is topped off with a helmet: “Like putting a letter box on top of your head,” Mr Bossley said.
It takes a minimum of two years’ practice to safely learn the techniques to joust against an opponent.
So, I practised with a quintain – a small rotating target from the Middle Ages. A knight hits the target on the quintain as they gallop past, scoring a point for every complete rotation.
I had the privilege of having ridden horses before, which helped my learning. After a few trial gallops, I am handed a practice lance and the quintain is dragged into location.
My first battle
“Be brave in battle, and be chivalrous,” is Mr Bossley’s final word of advice.
I raise the lance in a salute – the horse’s signal to charge.
There’s an explosive energy between your legs as the horse bolts into a gallop.
You’re clinging to the reins, bouncing in the saddle. But you don’t have time to focus much on riding because you’re simultaneously wrestling a 3-metre pole under your arm, while trying to ensure the point doesn’t poke your steed and all the while aiming towards the small shield-like target.
The quintain is rapidly approaching and seemingly lurches up and down. You lean forward, thrusting with all the force of your shoulder.
And all that in just a few seconds.
The horse pulls up at the end of the run.
Amazingly, I hit the quintain!
I ride over to my mentor. Do I have the heart of a knight?
“I do think you have what it takes. That was brilliant,” Mr Bossley said.
I won’t be quitting my day job any time soon, but when age is no barrier, the door is always open to take up jousting in the future.
Besides, Mr Bossley isn’t ready to hand over the reins quite yet. He said he would keep on jousting for “a few more years”.
“If you think you are too old, you definitely are. But don’t think it,” he said. “Don’t think old.”
Loading