IT’S been 28 fantastic years but Daryl Petch is finally throwing in the towel. From January 30, 2024, there will be a new bus driver at the wheel of Portland’s arguably most recognisable mode of school transportation: the Banana Bus.

You don’t need to be a rocket scientist to work out how the bus, famous for its Bridgewater to Portland school run, got that name. The yellow paintwork is so bright it’s almost edible. Certainly unmissable. Which was the intention of Mr Petch soon after buying the bus from a friend “in about 1989”.

Originally a green bus, when it came time to order a new one Mr Petch decided he needed to get one that would be clearly visible on the narrow winding roads between Portland and Bridgewater, “so I ordered yellow”, he said.

“All the kids call it the banana bus … and said when I get another one ‘it has to be a banana bus, Petchy’.”

“Petchy” as he is affectionately known by all who know him, including all the kids jumping on and off the bus every school day for the past 20-odd years, is turning 73 in March next year. So, he decided it was time to call it a day.

He never intended to drive the bus himself, but originally bought it from a friend for his father-in-law to drive, who ultimately had to give up bus driving when he developed a heart condition. Then a mate called Claude Richardson drove it for a while until “Petchy” sold his concreting business out near the smelter and decided he would take on the task himself. It was 1996 and the first time he’d driven a school bus. He hasn’t regretted a day of it.

The run takes him “past the lakes, up to Bridgewater, to the carpark and out – it’s the best bus run in Australia”, he said. And he’s seen a few generations of school kids go through, with several children now being dropped off and collected by their parents who travelled the same route and on the same bus in their day.

He’s never had a problem with any child, ever, in that time. “Not one,” he said. He puts that down to his personal rule of always acknowledging every child as they get on and off the bus.

“And they all say good morning to me: ‘Morning, Petchy; Have a good day.’ Everyone talks to me.”

It’s Mr Petch’s knack of bonding with children which saw him also working on and off as a teacher’s aide for several years. And the kids are suckers for the little Blu Tack animals – his “tacky art” as he calls it – that he makes for them.

“The hardest part of bus driving is getting someone else to do it,” he said. “You have to make sure they’ll be good with the children.” But found someone he has. His mate Greg Thompson passes Mr Petch’s rigorous standards and “will be good with the kids”, he said.

Mr Petch was born in Ballarat and moved briefly with his family to Warracknabeal before they moved to Portland in 1959 when he was aged eight or nine, and he attended Palmer St Primary School. By a strange stroke of fate, his wife Bev was there at the same time. “We have a Grade 6 photo of me standing behind (her). Didn’t know her then but we got together when we were 14.”

They’ve ended up on two acres of paradise on the outskirts of Portland where they raised four daughters and where their 11 grandchildren and four great grandchildren now enjoy the family tennis court and swimming pool, and where Mr Petch has also been teaching two of his grandsons how to play golf.

He’s also been keeping busy doing up houses. He’s done up a few over the years for his daughters, he said, all of whom live in Portland , and he has just taken on another renovator’s delight in Hurd St, so he’s certainly not going to be bored in his retirement. “I’ll be fine,” he said. “And I’ve got horses and trotters that I’ll be able to go and watch at any time, too.”

The soon-to-be 73-year-old Mr Petch then pulls another rabbit out of the hat: “I might take up bike riding again.” Turns out, he has been an avid bike rider most of his adult life, and shows no signs of slowing down.

He’s ridden from Adelaide to Ayers Rock, and Lands’ End to John O’Groats in the UK and Scotland; rode around Scotland and Ireland by himself; rode Cairns to Cape York; Albany to Perth; Amsterdam to Budapest; along the Nile, the Rhine and the Danube, “and all over Australia, New Zealand, and Tassie three times”, he said. And he’s so well known around the country people pop up all over the place and say gidday, such as the two bus drivers at Uluru who recognised him on one of his bike rides there. He was also surprised on another occasion to hear “gidday Petchy” while relaxing in a Port Douglas café.  

But despite his impressive roads-travelled record, Mr Petch dismisses any suggestion that he’s a serious bike rider. “It’s not that hard, and it’s over-rated, really,” he said. “But I might start doing it again, just to fill in some time; I might get up in the mornings and go for a ride.”

“It’s nice to be able to take the time now to appreciate (the things we worked hard for),” he said.

“We don’t take anything for granted, Bev and me.”