Colin Brierly - Indee Station Since 1962

Tucked away in the vast, rugged landscape of the Pilbara is a man whose story runs as deep as the red dirt itself. Colin, a true-blue Australian battler, welcomed us onto his station with a firm handshake, a yarn or two, and a legacy built on grit, resilience, and a whole lot of hard work.

Colin Brierly with a beer at happy hour

“I came here in 1962,” he told us, standing beside a home he built brick by brick—literally.

“There were about two and a half thousand sheep back then. I was 24 and took the place on three weeks after arriving. I’ve been here ever since.”

There’s a certain kind of resilience that can’t be faked—it’s earned, carved out through years of hard work, loss, and quiet wins. Colin’s story is exactly that. A man of the land, shaped by the vast open skies and the red Pilbara dust.


We had the privilege of visiting Colin at Indee Station, where he’s lived and worked since 1962.


Colin’s journey started with sheep—eight thousand of them at one point—and evolved with the changing times. When the economics shifted, he transitioned to cattle. “Sheep got more expensive to run and the price dropped. Eventually, it just wasn’t economical. So I joined the clan running cattle instead.”


In the decades that followed, Colin raised livestock, raised kids, weathered extreme Pilbara heat and weather, and shouldered loss. He spoke with quiet strength about the death of his first wife in a tragic accident, and later about Betty, the woman who would become his companion for the next 20 years.


Their love story began over a weed-spraying job, and as Colin recalls with a smirk, their first shared “star room” was little more than a concrete slab outside.

Indee Station
Colin Brierly feed his goose
manmade bricks
pilbara home
bricks
indee station
indee station long table

He laughs when he recalls their early days. “She asked where she’d be sleeping, and I told her—under the stars, on concrete slabs. That was the star room.” Romantic in the raw, true Pilbara way.

Together, they ran the station, made do, and made it work.

“I bought cattle when Neil Armstrong landed on the moon,” he tells us with a grin. “I remember that day clearly.”

In 2007, Cyclone George tore through the region—and Colin lost his house. But in true Colin fashion, he didn’t give up. He handmade every single brick of the current homestead—shovelling sand by night and moulding 110 bricks a day by hand. He started in 1980 and finished the house in 1984. In the meantime? He and Betty lived under the veranda for four years. No complaints—just quiet determination.


“We lived under the veranda for four years until I had enough money to get this together,” Colin said, motioning to the house built from thousands of bricks he made by hand. “I’d shovel every one of those bricks three times.”

Indee Station Homestead

Colin’s station is more than a home—it’s a living museum of memories.


Bottles collected over decades, scars from radiation treatment that left him half-deaf, a cattle paddock that’s now home to about 2,500 head, and stories of trapping 102 wild dogs in just eight weekends to protect the property. “That’s what kept me alive, really—from going broke.”


From starting early to beat the heat, resting during the brutal midday sun, and winding down with happy hour and a bit of tv (or a nap in front of it). But the work ethic hasn’t left. Nor has the dust. Nor the pride.


Colin’s kids—now grown—work across the region, train drivers to contractors and beyond. His legacy continues not just in the land, but in the values he’s passed on: endurance, humility, and self-reliance.


Indee 500

Colin is also the man behind the iconic Indee 500

Colin is also the man behind the iconic Indee 500 , an event that became a local legend. He points out the plaques on his wall—left by riders who once tore across the station’s terrain. Many of those names are now famous in the world of motocross. It’s a tribute to the spirit of the outback—rough, real, and wildly memorable.

antique bottle collection

The station holds all sorts of memories.

The station holds all sorts of memories. Among them, a unique bottle collection that once belonged to Sid Baker , a man who lived on the station and sadly lost his life during Cyclone George . The bottles now sit quietly in the background, a humble memorial to a mate and a life lived hard and honest.

old bottle collection

Resilient Living on 162,000 Hectares: Colin’s Story of Grit, Innovation and Life in the Pilbara

At 162,000 hectares, Colin’s land is more than just property—it’s a living archive of personal and regional history where every inch of the station tells a story.


He doesn’t move as fast as he used to. These days, the mornings start a little slower, and the afternoons might include a nap in front of the TV. But the spirit’s still there—dusty, dry-witted, and quietly proud.


Colin’s story resonates deeply with the ethos of Fridgy —an Australian brand born in the Pilbara, dedicated to celebrating the hard-working individuals who embody the nation’s resilience. His journey is rooted in the red earth, forged by hardship, and held together by sheer will.


Through all of life’s curveballs—cyclones, economic downturns, personal loss—Colin has remained cool, calm, and collected. He still carries a remarkable sense of humour, a sharp wit, and a grounded presence that reminds you of the kind of grit that can’t be taught—only lived. There’s a real character to him—the kind you don’t come across often, and when you do, you don’t forget.


And if you ask him what he’s learned after all these years, the answer is simple—don’t over-spoil your kids. Teach them to work hard. Stand your ground. Don’t expect the world to hand it to you—be resourceful, be innovative, and just find a way to keep going. And above all else, choose happiness where you can.


At Fridgy, we believe in honouring these stories—not just for what they say about the past, but for what they remind us about strength, perseverance, and purpose.


Thank you, Colin , for welcoming us into your world and sharing a piece of your journey. You’re exactly the kind of legend Fridgy was made to celebrate.

Colin Brierly Indee Station

Watch Colin's Video Interview

3 Responses

Les Todd

Les Todd

July 02, 2026

Hi Des, thankyou for sending this fascinating
read interviews and statements by that great man Colin Brierly and his wife Betty. You and Bev
made our stay a remarkable memory. What a wonderful memory, I will never ever forget it.
Kind Regards,
Les Todd
(Allan Todd on Facebook) which I will give away in the near future.

Desmond Fittock

Desmond Fittock

July 02, 2026

A true Australian gentleman who we had the pleasure of working with on Indee Station. 2007, 2009 and 2015.

Adrian Strik

Adrian Strik

July 02, 2026

Hello ‘Down-Under’, from Amsterdam.
As an expat West Australian, having grown up in Perth in the 50’s and 60’s I regularly make use of the Internet to source typical Aussie items. I now live in a suburb of Amsterdam, after meeting my Amsterdam born wife while back-packing Europe in 1972, but prior to that I was a resident of Port Hedland for several years. Somehow I came across this website while trying to find Colin Brierly of Indee Station. I first met Colin way back in 1968 or thereabouts, when together with a then good friend Steve Wilson we were en-route to Wodgina, where his father ‘Tug’ Wilson was prospecting for Tantalite as a ‘one-man’operation. Back in those days I was the Senior Radio Technician employed by what was then known as the Dept. of Civil Aviation at Hedland Airport. I got to know Colin better when I got closely involved in the aftermath of the dreadful aircrash some distance from his homestead on new-years’ eve 31st of December 1968. Because my departmental duty vehicle was a van equipped with a two-way VHF radio on the airport’s frequency (necessary for example to get clearance to cross a runway) I was instructed to lead a small convoy of police and hospital staff to the site of the crash, being guided along rough tracks by the search aircraft flying overhead. Due to the poor radio reception at the site (there were no such things as mobile phones back in those days) the police officer in charge asked me to stay one more day, so that any communiation to Hedland could take place, being relayed by passing aircraft. The horrible sight of aircraft wreckage strewn all about – but especially of badly mutilated bodies of the 26 people who died in the crash has made an indelible impression on me – even to this day.
Anyway, I was rather surprised to see your wonderful interview with Colin – and was not aware he is still alive. It does sadden me, however to see that apparently Parkinson seems to have set in, although he still hasn’t lost his ‘gift of the gab’, nor his unique humour.
During my last visit to Perth, to see my siblings (5 sisters and a brother, all of whom still live in and around Perth) in 2012/13 I accompanied one of my sisters in her camper-van up North, including Port Hedland, calling in at Indee Station on the way. Colin and his charming wife Betty made us feel very welcome and offered us accomodation and a good meal. Colin then drove me, at my request , in his 4WD vehicle to the exact site where the aircraft – a 4 engined Vickers Viscount came down. I was even able to retrieve some small bits and pieces which were still lying around. The idea was to try and give it some sort of ‘closure’, since the memories of those fateful days do come back and ‘haunt’ me to this day. Although I am glad to have been back there, unfortunately it only slightly helped to give it ‘closure’.
Should you still be in contact with Colin occasionally, perhaps you might ask him whether he still recalls my visit with my sister way back in (I think) October 2012. If that is the case please give him my fondest regards, I am aware that Betty passed away a couple of years ago – so my condolences as well. I do still have several photos of that visit, but never having had his e-mail address, I have not been able to forward them on.
Excuses for this perhaps lengthy story, but I am genuinely delighted to have seen this website, plus the video.
A great initiative, by the way, for producing your unique insulated beverage containers. All we had back in those days was something called ‘stubby holders’!
Sincerely yours, from a cold and wintry Amsterdam,
Adrian Strik.

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