“It was an interesting experience,” he said.

“It is amazing how people who you have known all your life and thought were your friends can change.

“It got to the point where I would walk down the street and people coming toward me would cross the road just to dodge me merely because I was a police officer.

“Some people embraced the fact I was an officer and would ask for me specifically. But I had to interview friends and parents of friends I went to school with and I found out who they really were. It’s hard when people you thought were friends lie straight to your face. I found who I was and what I did changed things. It was a steep learning curve. Despite that, it was highly rewarding returning home and I don’t regret it.”

At the end of 1994, Ash transferred to Bunbury for 18 months before moving to Halls Creek.

At this point, he and Jane had a six-month-old daughter. “She was the first grandchild on both sides of the family and we took her thousands of miles away. We weren’t too popular,” he laughed.

Ash remembers his first day in Halls Creek vividly. “It was 40 degrees and raining. It was great — I hate the cold.”

Ash and Jane stayed in Halls Creek for two years, during which time he had some amazing experiences.

“It is an amazing place with amazing people. I saw things and did things most people do not experience, such as being invited to attend traditional Aboriginal ceremonies. They (Aboriginal people) are lovely people and have a fantastic sense of humour. I also found out a lot about myself”

“For two years I was the only white bloke on the footy team, becoming the co-captain halfway through the first season. We even managed to win the grand final in ’97.”

Strange things happened during his time in Halls Creek.

A group of people were travelling through the Tanami Desert, tried to take a shortcut from Fitzroy Crossing to Balgo and got lost.

Ash was delegated the task of coordinating the search.

He remembers driving with another officer along the Tanami Highway, 200 kilometres from anywhere, when he saw a car a short way off the road. The pair decided it was safe enough to turn off the road and made their way over to where they saw the car. But, as they approached the spot, the car was nowhere to be seen.

“I asked the other officer if he was sure he saw it too, and he was. When we looked closer there weren’t even any car tracks, it was strange.”

There was a hill not far away and they decided to go to the top of it to try and see the car. But when they got to the top, they found more than one car.

“We found the entire group of lost travellers all safe and well wondering how the hell we found them over such a huge area.

“I still haven’t been able to work that one out either.”

Ash said he remembers another time when he was sitting at the police station and the phone rang. “A woman from Yaga Yaga said she had heard there was an accident on the Tanami Highway in the middle of nowhere and someone had been killed. I told her there had not been any reports of it.

“Not long after we got a report of an accident where someone was killed. It was amazing, there was no way this woman could have known about the crash as she was 200 kilometres away with no phone or radio communications. There weren’t mobiles or anything like that around. That was another ‘please explain’ moment.”

He also remembers an equally amazing story when coordinating a five-day search in Balgo, 400 kilometres from Halls Creek.

“There was a huge search party. I had 50 to 60 local Aboriginal people assisting as trackers, two aeroplanes, a chopper and about 40 State Emergency Service volunteers looking for this guy who got lost.

“We didn’t find a sign of him. It wasn’t until later I was told the Aboriginal women elders cursed him and sent him to the desert for cleansing after he had acted inappropriately towards a local girl. He was from Fitzroy Crossing so he didn’t really know the area very well at all. Also, as he was from Fitzroy and the lady in question was from Balgo — this was a big cultural no-no. The search was called off after five days.

“The night before I left they had a ceremony to thank me for everything I did for them. When I got back to Halls Creek, I got a phone call from Rabbit Flat in the Northern Territory to say the missing man had just walked there. From where he went missing to where he was found was 500 kilometres. He had not lost any weight and there was nothing wrong with him.

“The fact that he walked the 500km in just over a week in the middle of the wet season — and didn’t show any signs of trauma, fatigue or dehydration — still astounds me.”

“I saw things that no one could explain to me. Strange things certainly happen up there. There were things that happened up in the Kimberley that had no explanation.”

Jane was first female officer posted to Halls Creek. “They used to call her Maggie Doyle — from Blue Heelers.

“Jane told me a story about a woman who came into the station and said she wanted to make a complaint against her husband because he hit her. Jane took one look at the woman and asked her if she wanted to go to the hospital first and then lodge her complaint. But the woman would not have any of that. She kept going on about it, but eventually Jane convinced her to go to the hospital.

“Her husband had hit her over the head with an old metal can-opener and it was sticking out the top of her head.”

Ash and Jane (who were expecting their second child) moved from Halls Creek to Northampton. Ash was awarded a bravery medal for rescuing three people trapped in a car in a flooded river during torrential weather.

He also had the unenviable task of attending and investigating a fatal helicopter crash on a farming property.

They stayed at Northampton, near Geraldton, for two years before moving to Broome in 2000.

“It was fantastic there. It was a great lifestyle and I loved the weather. If we weren’t at work, we would be down the beach fishing or having a barbecue.”

Ash even got a taste of fame in Broome. In 2003 he made it onto the front page of The West Australian for shooting dead a crocodile that was threatening Anzac Day swimmers on Cable Beach.

Ash remembers getting a phone call at the station about a croc and thinking someone was trying to be funny.

At the time, he was one of three people in the Kimberley trained to shoot crocodiles under a departmental agreement with CALM.

He made his way to the beach with a large rifle and ended up in the ocean with CALM officers in a three-metre tinny. The fact the croc was a metre longer than the boat didn’t go unnoticed. “I don’t mind a bit of an adrenaline rush, but that was ridiculous,” he said.

“We followed that croc around for six hours in the sun. It would come to surface then disappear under the water for about 20 minutes into the weed.

“It would constantly swim under the boat. I couldn’t shoot at it when it came up for air, because if a shot went awry the bullet would skim across the water and hit one of the thousands of people who lined the beach watching everything unfold.

“Eventually I had the beach closed and cleared of onlookers much to the concern of the Broome Shire because of the tourist presence. I thought closing the beach would be much better in the news than a tourist being eaten by a croc. They eventually agreed.”

Ash was about 400 metres from the shore. “I had a couple of shots at it and it eventually swam to the shore. But because the tide was in, we were finding it difficult to get in to shore due to the waves. Eventually one of the CALM blokes I was with told me I would have to swim in and shoot the croc on the beach. I initially thought he was joking but the fact I was the only one laughing told me otherwise.”

Ash said he wasn’t keen on the idea but eventually jumped out into the water, with his gun over his head, and made his way to the shore in neck-deep water. When he got to the shore, the croc turned on him. At that moment Ash realised he was out of ammunition.

Fortunately, a police car was nearby and a .38 calibre police revolver was acquired from a colleague, who remained safe and sound inside the vehicle. Ash was then able to sneak up behind the croc into knee deep water and end its reign of terror with one round. “It was a sad thing to have to do, but even Malcolm Douglas from the Broome Croc Park advised us he would not be able to trap it because of the location.”

Ash was promoted to sergeant in 2003 and transferred as a police prosecutor back to Perth. “I hated it there ... I’m not a city person, I’m definitely a country boy. I was only there for 12 months. No one wanted to go to Kalgoorlie or Carnarvon so I volunteered to go to Carnarvon in 2004 as a prosecutor.” Ash was transferred as the senior district prosecutor, which meant he was on circuit with a magistrate three to four days a week. They would fly to Meekatharra, Wiluna, Mount Magnet, Cue and Shark Bay for court and then fly home again.

Ash later transferred to Bunbury. He stayed there about eight months as the operations sergeant until he became officer-in-charge of South West Traffic. “It was a frustrating job, deploying staff to serious and fatal car accidents particularly when the crashes were a result of driver stupidity or inexperience.

“The fact that people still choose not to wear a seatbelt defies logic. They won’t always prevent injury but they do increase your chances of survival 10-fold. I’ve come to realise you can’t legislate against stupidity.”

Ash then volunteered to transfer to Collie. “I love it here. Of all the places I have been, it has got the best bits of each place. It is surrounded by forest, there is plenty of water and Perth and Bunbury aren’t too far away. There is also great camping and fishing.

“The people in town are fantastic. In Collie, people still hand in wallets full of money they have found in the street. The people working in shops are friendly. They aren’t trying to fleece you of your money, they’ll actually stop and talk.

“My kids love the town and are doing exceptionally well in school. It was hard initially — Jane was still working in Bunbury for the first year we were here. But now she is working in Collie, things are easier.

“Collie is big enough to be semi-anonymous but small enough so you still know what is going on.”

Ash said he wanted to stay in Collie as long as possible. “I want to try and beat Gary Mason, who has been at the station for eight years. Everywhere I have been the kids have got to see things they usually wouldn’t throughout the Kimberley, Pilbara and the Mid-West districts. They are aware of different cultures and they have experienced a lot in life.

“But my daughter is 14 and has lived in 14 different houses and been to six schools. It is unfortunate they have not been able to form lifelong friendships, but they have experienced many other things.”

Despite his love of Collie, Ash said going up north was the best thing he ever did. “It was like a working holiday. I didn’t go there as a career move, I went there for something different and some life experience.

“A lot of police officers need to experience remote policing. It helps them figure out what their role as a police officer is and it gives them a better understanding of the job.

“I remind all officers their potential is limited only by the fear of the unknown. Sometimes you have to take a leap of faith and step outside your comfort zone. As long as you have the right mindset you will always benefit from the experience.

“If you always play it safe you will miss out on some magnificent experiences and adventures.”

“Police officers are here to help and we’re just another link in the chain of life. We aren’t the be-all and end-all. We’re just here to help, but sometimes people don’t see it that way.

“At the Collie station, we’ve had a huge turnover of staff lately. We’ve got a well-rounded and experienced police station with an average age of about 38. We’re not babies, we’ve been around a bit and have acquired a vast amount of experience. If you added up the years of policing experience we all have between us, we’ve got about 200 years. Plus we have experience from a lot of diverse places.”

“Collie is now home to my family. It’s where we live, where we shop and where we choose to be. Jane is secretary of the Little Athletics Club and I joined FESA as a volunteer late last year.”

Ash said he had a star-struck moment the other day at work. “Stephen Michael came into the station, and I was like ‘wow, it’s Stephen Michael’. I grew up watching him play footy in Kojonup and Katanning as well as when he was with South Fremantle. I still feel it’s a privilege if I get to see him and talk to him.”

Ash said Collie’s way of life was unique. “I like the way Collie people embrace each other and look after one another. Chris Collie is always up for a chat or a wave as we drive past and is looked after by everyone in town.

“Bob Chitty (Snr) is a wonderful man to share a yarn with and a couple of senior citizens I like to call ‘My Cougars’ (they know who they are) are still being looked after whether they realise it or not. That’s what it is all about, looking after each other.”