Sunday, 3 August 2008

Vest recalls today Aug 4, the 37th OZ anniversary for his family..

CHAPTER 47 ( Another excerpt from VEST'S memoirs 'Waving Goodbye To a Thousand Flies')
Back to Australia.
After much preparation, our house sold for more than we expected. We said our good-byes to our relatives and hoped all would be well. On Independence Day, 1971, we sailed from Southampton on ‘Brittannis,’ a 22,000 tonne Greek liner. We had the option to fly out, but a thirty-one day cruise seemed the best idea, especially since it would be a new experience for the family.
The journey to Australia was great – good accommodation, food, and entertainment. Mary’s 37th birthday was on 5 July. Even after delivering five healthy sons, she was still beautiful (and still is the love of my life.) Our boys were well behaved on the ship. We met an ex-Navy man and his wife and family with whom we are still in contact to this day. When the ship called into the Canary Isles, we all went ashore and nearly lost Christopher, who decided to go sightseeing on his own. The next stop was in Dakar, West Africa, where a very sick person was taken ashore by the ship’s crew.
The ship arrived in Capetown on a Saturday night. It was late, so we decided that the following morning we would go to Table Mountain. We were off the ship by seven o’clock am. At nine o’clock, we had arrived by cable car at the top of Table Mountain – 3,549 ft or about 1,100 metres high. Getting on the cable car at the bottom was okay, but when getting off, that gap which was moving at the top was scary. After our descent, we fed the pigeons in the park and walked back to the ship. My family walked on the ‘white’ side of the sidewalk while I walked on the ‘coloured’ side of the sidewalk. On passing a white springbok copper, I called out “jambo bwana” (happy meeting you) in Swahili. He replied with a two-finger salute. We arrived back at the ship for lunch and were off to Australia with the ship in a stern sea most of the way.
On 16 July 1971, I turned 45.
Australia
Our arrival in Fremantle, Western Australia on 23 July 1971, was uneventful, apart from quietly going through customs and smelling our way to the local fish and chip shop surrounded by homesick Poms. We were in the serving line when a person approached me and said, “Lend me ten bob, sport.” I turned to Mary and the boys and said, “We have arrived.” My first words to an Aussie in twenty-five years were “Get stuffed.” My family informed me that I was a very rude daddy.
Our next port of call, Port Adelaide, was not at all awe-inspiring; we stayed only a few hours. The ship then called into Melbourne and unloaded a large number of Greek and Maltese immigrants. We travelled to the city on a dilapidated dockside tram that had been delightfully adorned with many rude four-letter words and other startling pornographic pictorial statements. We then trudged the streets. It was different from what I remembered. After finding the fairground at Luna Park closed for the winter, we went back to the ship for Steven’s fourth birthday party.
Sydney, 4 August 1971. We were here at last! Although it was cold and windy, I did my level best to inform the family that this was the worst scenario and things would get better. Memories from twenty-five years ago came flooding back, but I put them aside and focused on the future.
We left the ship and cleared customs. Our hold baggage was sent on later to the hostel where we would be staying. After the luxury of the ship, the hostel was a letdown. As time went on, I let the family know that this was a temporary situation. Getting out of the hostel became a priority.
At the Villawood Hostel, about ten families of differing ethnic origins were waiting outside the manager’s office. The manager was a polite Italian migrant with a flair for English. Although alphabetical order is the normal way to go, that day, it seemed the Z’s, U’s, Y’s, and Q’s went first. My friend’s family and ours – the E’s and S’s – were last. A seven-foot tall, blonde, middle-aged Prussian bimbo announced to the manager, “Ve now haf the last of the Queen’s relatives.”
I replied, “You must be the Whore from Stalag Four.” Then I said, “Sig heil” with an erect middle finger. The manager said he would speak to her later and that I must be more tolerant. I replied, “I am always tolerant when it suits me.”
Having sorted out the cockroaches and settled into our Nissen hut, we went to the main dining room. A good selection of poorly cooked but sustainable food was the normal fare. The only problem was that the knives, forks, and spoons had to be washed outside the mess hall under a cold-water tap. We made other arrangements.
The nights were cold (mid winter in Sydney) and the showers thirty yards away. Despite the English shower and soap joke, we were more frequent users of the showers than most people.
The second day after we arrived, we were visited by friends who had lived one house up from us in England – Ron and Margaret Ryan. We would see a lot of them in days to come.
The next day, we decided to take the train into town from Leighton field Station. A recently arrived migrant announced the destination for the next train in a strange, garbled form of Strine, a badly spoken, Aussie Brumby English. Two old geezers sitting close by noticed that I was having difficulty understanding it. One of them said, “When youse been ‘ere’ a bit more, sport, you’ll learn English.”
I looked him squarely in the eye and replied, “Now isn’t that nice to know, you silly old fart.”
One of the boys said, “You’re being rude again, daddy.”
Later in the day, when we called into a local shop to buy a hot water jug, William sat on the glass display shelf. I snatched him just in time. I had no idea glass could bend.

Want to read more; Go to sales@trafford.com ISBN 1-4120-3384-5

27 comments:

Anonymous said...

HA
dont give us shit

we all know u were deported to the penal colony


for making love to rubber dolls and animals

Rajan said...

Saby gave me your book to read
enjoying the hott parts he marked

Vest said...

Rosemary reminded me that yesterday was also the 46th anniversary of our family arriving in Hong Kong, when we stayed at the Shamrock Hotel in Nathan Rd Kowloon at the start of my 27 month tour of duty in the Naval Base HMS Tamar. It was on the 2nd day the 5th Aug that Norma Jean aka Marilyn Monroe died tragically.
Ironically I met a person living in Berkley Vale down the road a bit who was enamoured to a friend of ours, An American, who informed us he was there at her autopsy. and later enbalmed her prior to burial ?.

tqmcintl said...

On Friendship day
i remember how we became friends

how we first hated each other both of us at Starbenders and Micheles place


wooing the same women
we both lost out to Pugs

Anonymous said...

Rose and Vest
I love u guys

Anonymous said...

I also love Wally and LD Lawyer and Kate and Aggie and Lord something


and the rest of the idiots in this idiotic place

saby said...

Perfect Man, Perfect Woman

There was a perfect man and a perfect woman. They met each other at a perfect party. They dated for two perfect years. They had the perfect wedding and the perfect honeymoon. They had two perfect children.
One day the perfect man and the perfect woman were driving in there perfect car, they saw an elf by the side of the road, being the perfect people they were they picked him up.
Well as the perfect man and the perfect woman were driving with the elf, somehow they got into an accident. Two people died and one lived.
Who died and who lived?
The perfect woman, because the perfect man and elves aren't real.



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Vest said...

tqmcinti: I was never interested in 'M' in any case she was uglier than a robbers dog and she chose Pugs who was short sighted and handy in the kitchen, he being a Gay ex Ships Cook.

Anonymous said...

Janice and Chris went to have their baby delivered.

Upon their arrival, the doctor said he had invented a new machine that would transfer a portion of the mother's labour pain to the baby's father.

He asked if they were willing to try it out. They were both very much in favour of it.

The doctor set the pain transfer to 10% for starters, explaining that even 10% was probably more pain than the father had ever experienced before.

However, as the labour progressed, Chris felt fine and asked the doctor to go ahead and kick it up a notch. The doctor then adjusted the machine to 20% pain transfer. Chris was still feeling fine. The doctor checked the husband's blood pressure and was amazed at how well he was doing.
At this point, they decided to try for 50%. The husband continued to feel quite well. Since the pain transfer was obviously helping out the wife considerably, the husband encouraged the doctor to transfer ALL the pain to him. Janice delivered a healthy baby with virtually no pain. She and her husband were ecstatic.


When they got home, the postman was dead on the porch.
***********

9:45 PM

tqmcintl said...

PUGS has gone bonkers
Michele left


on his blog he has left a screen saver that goes I love u michelle ... I love u michelle .... I love u michelle ...

ad infinitum

Jim said...

Janice is no more
there was no pain transferring machine

she died in child birth in USA

Jim said...

At 5:32 PM, tqmcintl said...
Janice

I have so many questions
is the Da Vinci Code true?


do u guys have sex up there?
is there hell too for guys who are bad?


At 5:34 PM, tqmcintl said...
will i go to hell?
I have been bad

i love many women
and every woman thinks I love only her


Post a Comment

Anonymous said...

At 10:20 PM, Jim said...
Janice
i m coming home


At 10:21 PM, Jim said...
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

I’ve wandered far away from God,
Now I’m coming home;
The paths of sin too long I’ve trod,
Lord, I’m coming home.



Coming home, coming home,
Nevermore to roam,
Open wide Thine arms of love,
Lord, I’m coming home.

I’ve wasted many precious years,
Now I’m coming home;
I now repent with bitter tears,
Lord, I’m coming home.



I’m tired of sin and straying, Lord,
Now I’m coming home;
I’ll trust Thy love, believe Thy Word,
Lord, I’m coming home.



My soul is sick, my heart is sore,
Now I’m coming home;
My strength renew, my hope restore,
Lord, I’m coming home.



My only hope, my only plea,
Now I’m coming home;
That Jesus died, and died for me.
Lord, I’m coming home.



I need His cleansing blood, I know,
Now I’m coming home;
O wash me whiter than the snow,
Lord, I’m coming home.




--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Jim said...

http://www.boston.com/news/world/asia/articles/2005/08/06/its_hiroshima_day____dont_look_away/

Vest said...

Jim: so you have made your final departure from sin. So perhaps your colourful choice of unsocial expletives will be gone forever, I am sure Your God will find some good in you where others have failed. Personally I am not into witch craft sorcery magic or eccleslastical fibbery and I have no fear of your god.
I try to keep the ratio of goodness in me above that of wantoness. I really like being wicked occasionly.

Rajan: make sure the pages are not stuck together when you HAND it back.

tqmcinti: Pugs was always bonkers; poor fellow. He would cross dress and visit Bugis street in Singapore
where his kind would hang out. Always insisted it was called boogy street, dim wit.

Jim said...

Dont fear God
love God, silly


He is a lovable bloke

Keshi said...

Nostalgic read!

Happy OZ Anniversary Vesty!

Keshi.

Vest said...

I asked our holy man" why should we fear god, when I was reading a placard in the parade hall at ny naval school.It read 'fear god honour the king' If he said anything , I didn't hear it, a boxed ear sent me deaf for ages. Some of our educators were real pigs and psuedo christians.
............................

Observing a sign in latin above the wardroom entrance at The naval gunnery school at Portsmouth Eng, where the bullshit baffles brains syndrome reigned supreme, I was asked by a senior officer to what it meant, I replied that latin was not taught at my protestant school, although my headmaster insisted that a gentlman need not know latin, but he should at least have forgotten it.
I then stated, it's translation into Spanish would be most appropriate for this establishment. Lets say "VIVA EL TORO" and into English "Long live The Bull(shit)".
During the next few weeks I found out it does not pay to display commonsense or infer you are better than your betters.
Although I was in some instances.

Aggie said...

I always enjoy reading your adventures Vest.

tqmcintl said...

'fear god honour the king'
Bull


God of the Old Testament was to be feared

then Jesus came along and said God is your loving father

He commanded me to burn the Old testament

like He did
and He was crucified

the Old teatament is the book of the jews and the muslims

they both go by
eye for an eye

but Jesus said
turn the other cheek

Anonymous said...

K has no time to discourse
she has to prepare for tommorows post

Jim said...

Yes...I've felt you
I know your reaching out
I can feel your prescence
all around me.....
Spirit Lovers.....
Across the distance
And yet so close
Our hands reach out
Across the mystery of time
Mystical Hearts
Become intertwined



Written by Rhiannon (Barbara R.) March 27th, 2007
"Spirit Lovers" Painting by American Indian Artist Margurite Fields
Posted by Rhiannon at 8:05 PM 0 comments

Jim said...

1. Teens - you have all the time and energy but no money.

2. Workers - you have the money and energy but no time.



3. Oldies - you have all the time and money but no more energy.

- Maria

Jim said...

Vest

u will love the Jesus I love
the historical Jesus dont mean a thing

history is just his story
make your own story


Jesus is a hippy
like me

if u love me
u cant just help loving Jesus

Anonymous said...

oooopppss
Sorry

that last line was for Rose

Jim said...

There are three things which are real: God, human folly, and laughter. The first two are beyond our comprehension. So we must do what we can with the third.

- John Fitzgerald Kennedy

saby said...

Unfaithful Wives

Paddy and his two friends are talking at a bar.
His first friend says: "I think my wife is having an affair with the electrician. The other day I came home and found wire cutters under our bed and they weren't mine."
His second friend says: "I think my wife is having an affair with the plumber. The other day I found a wrench under the bed and it wasn't mine."
Paddy says: "I think my wife is having an affair with a horse." Both his friends look at him with utter disbelief.
"No, I'm serious. The other day I came home and found a jockey under our bed."



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