Fergus Bradley founded this house, and he prefers to say little. I am the person who works beside him each evening, and I have been asked to tell his story properly.
This page was intended to be a note from the founder, and Fergus Bradley did write one. It is a single line, pinned beside the kitchen door: light the lamps before anyone arrives. Over the years he has been persuaded to say a little more, though never very much, and so he has asked me, as floor manager, to set down the history in my own words.
Fergus grew up in Ceduna, where his father worked at the grain port, and as a young man he spent several seasons on fishing boats working the waters of the Bight. The boats taught him two lessons that he has never abandoned: that a crew eats properly or not at all, and that a day has an order which should not be argued with.
After some years in restaurant kitchens elsewhere in the country, he returned to find the old grain agent's office on Poynton Street standing empty, its limestone front intact and its jarrah roof still sound. It took him three years to buy, repair and furnish it. He insists the work was shared with a good many neighbours, whom he thanks every winter with a long supper.
The casino room was an afterthought, though a deliberate one. Fergus noticed that guests who had dined well did not want to leave at once, and that they enjoyed a game of cards if it was played gently and without any money at stake. A ship's bell, bought from a retired fishing vessel, now marks the opening of the tables at half past seven, and again the close at ten.
Today the house is run on the order Fergus laid down: lamps at five, supper from half past five, the bell at half past seven and the last bell at ten. The venue is operated by WAFFLE ADVERTISING LTD, 85 Great Portland Street, London W1W 7LT, United Kingdom.
Floor manager
I came to Ceduna to manage the dining room of a small guesthouse and stayed because the work here suited me better. I walk the floor from five until close, I settle disagreements about seats and I write the board in the entrance hall. If a guest needs something that is not on the menu, I am the person to ask.
Host
Felicity lights the lamps at five o'clock and takes every booking by telephone herself. She has a remarkable memory for faces and for the table a guest sat at last time, and she is invariably able to find a chair for the unexpected arrival. Children and elderly guests are her particular concern, and she keeps a cushion at the window table for anyone who finds the chairs hard.
Head chef
Lucy trained in busy restaurant kitchens on the coast before accepting a post in Ceduna, where she found the best whiting she had ever cooked. She prepares the menu a week at a time, bakes the bread before noon and keeps a notebook in which every successful dish is described in three lines.
Croupier
Oliver learned to deal as a young man in a large card room and now trains the other dealers himself. He spins the wheel and runs the blackjack table, and his practice is to explain each rule once, quietly, before the first card is turned. He is widely thought to be the calmest person in Ceduna.
Fergus asks very little, but what he asks is exact. Arrive early, because the first guest is always earlier than expected. Keep the lamps burning until the last chair is empty. Speak quietly in the dining room and more quietly still in the casino room. Never describe a dish as better than it is. Never describe a game as other than it is.
That last point matters especially. The tables are for company and pleasure, and the chips have no worth beyond the room. We do not take wagers, we do not award prizes, and we do not accept that a game should be played for anything beyond the honour of a name on the board. A guest who asks us for more will be politely refused.
The result, I think, is a house in which people lower their voices without being asked. Visitors from the highway often remark on how unhurried the evening feels, and regular guests tell me they sleep better on the nights they come. That is not a claim we make in advertisements. It is simply something I have noticed.
If you would like to meet Fergus, he is generally in the kitchen doorway at about six, with a cup of tea and an eye on the room. He will not make a speech, but he will ask whether you have been served, and he will mean it. You can also write to him at the address on the contact page.
Dinner is open to guests of all ages, but the casino room and its pages are for adults. Please confirm before you go on.
The question is put to every guest. Nothing here is played for money, and nothing is played online.