The Adventures of Sids Dad !

[Sids Dad]

Alan ,,i just wanted to say what a fantastic post ,thankyou for sharing that ,it would be great to read more of your adventures,why dont you write something for us ??

Cal x

Well Cal,

You asked for it!!

More Tales of the wandering Pom

 

Soaking wet hankies held as the train slowly made the bend, leaving behind Newcastle station and both our Mams and our two best friends desperately waving as if we were away to Flanders or some terrible fate and we would never be seen again! Such was emigrating as a ten pound Pom in 1971.

We were Melbourne bound and the tears were dry before we roared past York, we reached London which was a place we had not even visited, we hadn’t a clue how to even get the tube and watched the first one arrive and depart again as we casually picked up our cases only for the doors to close in our faces! We nearly threw the cases right through the other side when the next one came!!

In those days you has the choice of either six weeks on the boat or to fly, we chose to fly and it was a great adventure. If anyone thinks today’s flights are arduous then they should have travelled then. It was about thirty hours flying time if my memory serves me correctly. This was only the start as we actually flew into Perth an there was some sort of air dispute on. We then changed aircraft and flew on to Sydney and then a 12 journey down to Melbourne.

We boarded the coach at Sydney Airport along with a variety of nationalities; we were immediately struck by a very large Italian family who seemed to be travelling with 3 generations. We all had different “ Prefect” coloured badges on which we never did fathom out why. All was going well until we got to the Victorian border fruit fly control barrier. A large uniformed officer boarded the bus and explained that no one was allowed to carry any fruit over the border and it must be either consumed within the next five minutes or it was to be confiscated. Well I thought my pants would never dry, tears streamed down our cheeks as this tall Italian with the large bag of Oranges was babbling on and as they all frantically peeled two dozen oranges to try to beat the deadline!! Absolutely hilarious.

At two in the morning we achingly alighted in the middle of Melbourne and after we heard our names called we were whisked of in a private car to a large Victorian house will an attached annex and given a room. This was nothing like what we had heard from our friends at home which said we would be put up in Army type barracks along with hundred of others!! This was Posh!!

I think we upset the cook next morning as our bodies were in a state of suspended animation and we were served up a huge bowl of cereal (Weeties I think) and then a plate of (I kid you not), steak, lamb chop two eggs bacon beans and two sausages and a pile of beans!! We could only pick at it and I don’t think he was amused.

Anyway the manager said I know you will be bushed so I will get you a Taxi and go and have a look at Melbourne. This was better and away we went, mind you we were in for a nasty surprise!

As most know the Oz seasons follow the UK seasons and this went for the fashions too, I was getting a bit sick of some of the wolf whistle as my wife was wearing a mini skirt etc but I did not reckon on me getting them from some of the gays!!!

At home I was an avid Newcastle United supporter and had shopped in Malcolm McDonald’s newly opened boutique (Supermac was Newcastle’ and England’s centre forward at the time and I was star struck. I let them sell me the latest gear which was (Now don’t laugh), 20” bell bottomed hipsters, a shirt with an enormous collar and platform soled shoes with a wooden Cuban heel!! OK laugh. This was the only day that these were worn much to the amusement of my OH.

Day two in Australia and we were up and ready for the world. I was called into the immigration Officers office and he had an enormous ledger which he was avidly thumbing through (this was a list of all the company’s in Victoria which were seeking labour).

I was down as a fitter welder and before I knew it in we were both in a taxi going for an interview. It was at a place called Everhot boilers in Port Melbourne and they made domestic steel cylinders and oven tops etc.

I was sent in for a test and approached by supervisor and he asked me in broken English if I could use semi automatic. I replied that I had not used it before and gave a moan and then spluttered, “sorry mate I though you were a bloody Wog! (Endearment for anybody else that doesn’t come from the British Isles!!) It turned out he was from Coventry and he talked in broken English all day! No problem he said, I will show you how it works and when you go out to see the manager I will tell him you’re the best welder I’ve ever seen so stick out for a hundred bucks a week because he will offer you 85!

The Yugoslav manager was raging as I kept insisting that I had other interviews and thought I could get more, he eventually caved in and the job was mine.

Back we went to the hostel and the manager was straight on the phone and twenty minutes later a lady estate agent came and again we were whisked away to view three furnished flats in the St Kilda area, we picked one, paid the bond, came back for our cases and moved in!

That night there was a knock on the door, who the hell knows we are here we thought?

I carefully opened the door to see a smartly dressed guy who said “I’m sorry to bother you but Mrs … at the estate agency gave me your name and told me you had just arrived and will be working in Port Melbourne. My name is Peter and I own a car yard I’m originally from Coventry and you will want a car as the public transport is rubbish, here’s my card if you can give me a chance”.

I asked him where his lot was and he said it was just up the road, away we went bought a car and drove it back!

Not in the country three days and I have a job, a flat and wheels, not bad, not bad, now the adventure can begin.

Keep looking for the further adventures of The Wandering Pom.

 

How’s that for episode one?

[calNgary]

Thanks Alan,,i moved your post as they make great reading and im sure other memebers will find your travels as interesting as i do ,,i must say you make great reading and i can almost picture you in bell bottoms and wedges !!!!lol,,roll on episode 2

thankyou

Cal x

[Guest Mrs Braveheart]

Hi Alan

 

What a great read bring on episode 2.

 

Janette

[calNgary]

I forgot to mention that the preview to Alan's travels are under 'the police' thread in Jobs and Careers,,

Cal x

[Guest mandy&Jem]

Loving it! Please Sir can I have some More? -x-

[Sids Dad]

Episode Two

A proper Job.

Well life was certainly different, but my wife was like a small rabbit caught in the headlights, she didn’t go out without me as she thought everyone would know she was a POM! Well with a Geordie accent she could just about be right.

It took nearly six weeks before she was brave enough to go for an interview and guess what? She got the job as Telephonist Receptionist because they loved her accent! Bloody weird.

My job took a turn for the better as life welding cylinders was not what I had in mind, I scanned the pages of the Age which had huge job sections on a Wednesday and a Saturday, such was the demand then that when I rang up to enquire (Gordon Brothers PTY in Brunswick) they cajoled me into clocking out at lunchtime and going up for an interview!!

They wanted me to start there and then but I managed to hold them off a few days until the Monday.

This was more like it, site work putting in large diameter pipe work for a refrigeration company I loved it and I got really stuck into it as I did not want to be labelled a lazy Pommy B******

This certainly paid off as when the job was finished I was asked to stay on with the service department even though I knew nothing about refrigeration!

So all in all it took about two months to be right in the swing so now lets plan the weekends.

I remember buying a large map of Victoria and we would take turns at closing our eyes and picking a destination.

One of our first trips was to Bells beach which held the surfing championships each year (still does?).

We teamed up with a couple of lads and one girl we met in the hostel on arrival and off we went in Ricks car which was a Beetle (What is it about us POMS?) I buy a mini Rick buys a Beetle and Peter a lad from Newcastle as well, buys of all things a Morris Minor? I think we had the stupid notion that anything other than either British or German was rubbish! How wrong we were.

Anyway we arrive there on a glorious day in the middle of the Melbourne winter which to us was like a summer’s day in Whitley Bay!

The two girls sat huddled behind a small dune while we all stripped off and thrashed around in the surf. Strangely we were alone and for our first time in the Australian water very, very inexperienced. This nearly turned into tradgedy as Rick reckons we should be swimming out to the second wave and body surfing in on that. He thought that we were getting bundled about too much by the crashing wave that was hitting us at the waters edge.

Rick dove in and out he went as we looked on anxiously. Young and stupid comes to mind or maybe just too reckless for our own good but Rick was struggling to get back in!! every time he swam for the beach his timing was off and he swam against the retreating waves. Panic! We tried holding arms and wading it but were battered all ways by the large rollers. We were really panicking now as we screamed at Rick, Swim, Swim now, now.

Eventually he must have struck out at the correct time as he slithered onto the beach utterly exhausted. Now we let rip at him and he suffered a torrent of abuse albeit with a little humour thrown in. “Didn’t you hear me shouting at you Rick” no he gasped, yeah I was shouting where’s the F-ing car keys!!!

Rick still lives there and we still drop the occasional mail to each other, married a Thai girl and has two stunning looking kids. He was a very lucky Pom that day.

Our next trip was a little nearer to the Dandenong Mountains, a nice easy trip and by now we are easily integrating into the Oz way of doing things, armed with an Esky filled with beer, meat and salad etc and even better I have a piece of ¼” thick steel plate which I got from work to act as our mobile BBQ.

We snaked our way up and marvelled at how it resembled the UK with it’s Devonshire cream teas etc. We stopped at a nice clearing and getting a few boulders to act as a fire guard I cooked steaks and drank ice cold beer from the esky. We sat there marvelling at how clear and blue the sky was, and listening to the bell birds tinkling and the fantastic sound of the Kookaburras. Large sulphur crowned parrots and an array of colourful parakeets all added to our appreciation of how lucky we were to be here.

I threw a T Bone to one side and was amazed to see a Kookaburra swoop down and take it! I thought the buggers just ate grubs or something! This bird seemed to be beating the bone to death! Maybe it wanted to be sure it was dead.

We also came upon a centre that had fantastic stone carvings of aboriginals and half man half Kangaroo, these were carved out of the rock as it lay. The place name escapes me but it’s definitely worth a visit.

We also took a trip down to Wilsons Prom, which in the early seventies was pretty much unspoilt. They say it’s bit more touristy now which is a pity as it’s a spectacular spot. It’s a straightforward drive and when you get there you park up and that’s it, everywhere you go you have to walk, signs that read “Lighthouse 7 ½ hours” !! we took one that read two hours and set off, passing a couple that handed us a couple of sticks saying,” here make plenty of noise as they say there’s a few snakes along the trail” Great I thought, the pan leader is going to freak and we will end up back in the car!! But no, here was a new woman, full of pioneering spirit! “I think he is talking rubbish” she said, that other guy back there said the place was a swarm of flies and there is hardly any. I didn’t dare say that she had what looked like a small shag carpet of them on her now sticky wet back!!!

Anybody who may have had the good luck to go to WP will tell you that, because the place is protected, the animals have no inherent fear of you and there are wallaby’s skipping along beside you, Koalas we spotted 8 feet from the ground merrily munching away on their eucalyptus lunch! There is a great bridge over a small outlet to a lovely beach, we stretched the day out and drove home in the dark.

As most know Australia gets it’s fair share of holidays which fall mostly onto weekends so they become the long weekends with three days of exploring to do. We decided on a whim to go and see Adelaide for the weekend so last minute plans were drawn up. I dashed out for a map and saw that it was fair drive and still having a Pommie brain, reasoned that I better take a can of petrol as it looks like there is nothing in between!

In the event we must have past a gas station every ten miles!!

We did not even contemplate that we would not get any accommodation either on the way there or back. We thought that it being a long weekend that most people would be down at the beach or doing jobs around the house, (Forgot we were in Australia again!).

We decided we would go the inland route as it was the quickest and then return by the coastal route as it was a little more scenic.

We arrived in Adelaide at around 12.30 on a Saturday and it was shut!!!! Nobody mentioned this at work? All we managed to see was the parks and a look around the city streets! Bugger.

Having been up all day I’m getting a bit weary, no room at the Inn so I suggested that we just drive back so far.Then Park in a lay-by for a few hours and catch a kip. By this time it’s pitch black and if you haven’t experienced an Australian night sky in the middle of nowhere, then break the bank and do it! A fantastic sight.

So here we are sitting in a mini at a small lay-by gazing at the stars, well I say I need to catch a few hours, sliding the seat back a bit…… silence? I said.. yes yes I know but I need the toilet!! OK not a problem, get out do what women do behind the car problem solved?

Silence…. Are you getting out or what? There is no bloody way I’m getting out in the dark have you heard the noise outside there is all sorts of things flying about!!

But sweetheart it’s 11.30 at night if you have to go you will have to go now as it doesn’t get light until about 6am!!

I swear to you that that girl held it until first light and then she dashed out and on came the radio to drown the noise as I thought there was a dray horse letting loose!

I forgot to mention that when we were arranging the sleeping positions (remember it’s a mini) I was not allowed to open the car doors to get her into the back seat so if you can imagine my wife (5’ 2” and quite petite) clambering over my head to get into the back seat? Hold that thought as just then a giant MAC truck illuminates us with his headlights blasts on his air horn, rolls the window down and yells “Ya dirty lucky B******”

Next morning we head off in search of a mikbar to get a roll and a coffee and quite forget that I’m supposed to be going back by the coastal route, we end up a good few miles back along the road we came on. Bugger again, out comes my trusty map, “Ah no problem here, look there a little road a few miles ahead that connects us with the coastal one, we just go through here look, Little Desert”

You know when you should have put your head in a paper bag and gave it a good shake? We I should have! It turned into 25 miles of bone shaking road with small whirligigs blowing across the car and bouncing it around, lordly was I glad to get off it.

We arrived home shattered but alive and boasting to our mates about how we diced with death driving across a desert in the middle of nowhere!! Yeah right.

[calNgary]

Im with the misses ,,lol id have sat till daylight crosslegged too!!!!

Cal x

[Guest Gollywobbler]

You would make a best selling travel writer any day that you choose, mate. I'm NOT kidding.

 

We want to hear the rest of the story of your early years in Oz, please. Then once you've settled into Oz again this time, we are going to need regular updates on your travels around NSW and QLD, please.

 

Did you choose to go to Melbourne or were you conscripted to do so by the Powers That Were? Did the place not have an airport in those days?

 

Looking forward to Episode 3.

 

Cheers

 

Gill

[Sids Dad]

Hi Gill,

Nope, you got to choose where you were heading and Melbourne did have an airport (same one as today, Tullamarine) but they were in the middle of a dispute and we had to land in Perth, fly to Sydney and then bus it down to Melbourne. I think it would see me off these days but then it was an exciting adventure.

Episode three coming up!

[Sids Dad]

Episode Three

Culture differences

Life in St Kilda is good and I soon start venturing out to check out the men’s pub scene, I have been in Australia a few months and I hadn’t been out on my own doing the bloke thing, seeking mates and general men’s chat.

My wife suggests the pub along the road called The Junction which is where the tram splits for Fitzroy Street and Dandenong road. It looks a bit rough (bear in mind I’m from Newcastle now!) but in I go. My first impression was to turn on my heel and head back home! It seemed to be full of Aboriginals and it was like a scene from a movie when the white man comes into a Harlem night club and the whole place stops dead!

I slink up to the bar where I’m stared at by the thankfully, white barman. Errr a beer please, waddaya want a glass a pot or a middie? Erm whats the biggest? A Fack** Jug mate Ha Ha ha the whole bar is laughing now.

I settle for a pot and I still think he is making me look like an idiot as he produces this grubby looking glass to pour the beer in. Heart hammering I stutter, err can I have a clean glass mate? Eh? All my F-IN Glasses are clean as the frosted glass slowly clears “Oh Christ I’ve dropped a right clanger here”

I look up expecting to be beaten to a pulp by this manic barman or maybe one of his aboriginal mates but lo and behold he’s grinning all over his face and he says you must be a F***** POM then? Brian’s me name as his gnarled hand swallows mine and these are me regulars pointing to the black fellas. I’m sipping my beer thinking well they don’t look that menacing and then one of them came over and asked if I followed Rugby? It turned out that they were all Maoris from NZ (I didn’t ask what they were doing there, that was enough excitement for one night).

With two wages coming in we ate out quite a bit, usually take a ways but now and then a restaurant. What you have to remember is that you have now just stepped into Giant land as all the fruit and vegetables seems to be enormous and seafood is cheap and plentiful.

We discovered fantastic Gelato ice cream and if you haven’t eaten at Leos Spaghetti bar then you should.

At the bottom of St Kilda it peels away to the left along Ackland street where the best cakes my wife has ever tasted are made (she should know she’s a well known chocoholic).

For the first time in my short career I was enjoying going to work, sun shining, out in the fresh air, everyone at work friendly and my boss and his wife extraordinary so. They became like surrogate parents, we were invited to all sorts of dances where we swore the spot prizes were rigged in our favour. My bosses wife was the Female version of Dame Edna Everage (Eh did I say that right there?). She was and still is a Hoot. I always remember visiting them years later, we share a complaint in that we both have narrow tear ducts which result in tears running down my cheeks whenever a cold wind is blowing (most days when in Newcastle).

Anyway we are having the obligatory Barbie at their place and she is describing an operation she had done to have plastic tubes put in! “Oh Alan Daarling, don’t have it done, it’s a nightmare, especially when you sneeze as you have to be quick and stick your fingers into the corner of your eyes otherwise you will blow snot over everyone!!

People like these are gems, my ex boss opened up his home to us and insisted we stay with them. As we arrived he took me to the most important bits first, “ here’s a big fridge in the garage Alan it’s full of beer, here’s another one in the kitchen, the wine’s in the bottom and here’s a small one in my den, just when you find it drink It”!!

We enjoyed a family BBQ as he had built an enormous one out the back complete with a flue going up through a roof overhang.

He hand feeds wild parrots every night in his backyard, where the Parrot leader (If there is such a thing) comes down and feeds while the rest of the flock sit up in the gums until they think it’s safe and then down they come.

One of the nicest places we went to was Lake Eildon which is about 100 miles north on Melbourne, there was only one hotel there and we could not get in the first night so slept in the car, (Austin 1800, still hadn’t learned about Aussie cars!!).

Don’t get a car with leather seats is also a lesson that you learn quickly with third degree burns on the back of your bare legs when you have stupidly left it sitting in the sun for a few hours!

We got into the Hotel the second night and watched the sun come up and having an early breakfast while feeding the parrots on the balcony, hardly an sound except for the splash of trout leaping in the lake. A magical place but I suppose progress may have caught up with it now.

By now we have moved flats to live in a nearly new apartment in Patterson street just one block from the St Kilda sea front, complete with security codes to enter. We are on the top floor opposite a couple of Gay’s who were a nice enough duo. By now my wife is pregnant and I kid you not she was sick every day for eight months+ I remember being downstairs washing the car when one of the Gay lads asked about her. As I opened my mouth to speak there was a horrendous sound of my wife throwing up! I closed my mouth again and he nodded and walked on.

I always thought that when women have strange urges when pregnant that it was all a bit put on but having to get up at two in the morning to visit an all night milk bar to satisfy her desperate craving for liquorish put me straight!

Our son is born in the Mercy Maternity Hospital but although I was supposed to be present I messed up and missed it, much to the annoyance of the consultant who was on the tannoy system for me while I dozily went outside to feed the parking meter as we had been there since 3am and it’s now 8am.! It didn’t help much when I went in and declared that he looked like a frog!! Me and my big mouth!

I didn’t know then but I was on borrowed time and that I would be back in Newcastle within six months.

[calNgary]

LMFAO ,,A frog???? poor lad ,,lol!!!!

Cal x

[Guest Gollywobbler]

Hi Cal

 

I've seen pix of Alan's son aboard his boat. It is a catamaran, so a catspaw of wind will get her moving reasonably fast and with a decent wind going for her, she'll go like the clappers. The decks make the perfect sunbathing platform, too, because the breaze across the decks mean you get the suntan without feeling that you are being roasted alive and getting all sweaty. Also, if one is helping to sail the boat, you can cook both sides at the same time without getting boared.

 

The son no longer resembles a frog!!! He looks incredibly fit and his lifestyle is deeply to be envied, that is for sure. He teaches kite surfing as well. I don't know what is involved with that - I've never tried it. Looks fun, though.

 

Cheers

 

Gill

[calNgary]

Sounds like i might have to get to know Alan and his family a little better,lol !!! nothing like a free boat trip!!!!

Cal x

[Guest Gollywobbler]

Hi Cal

 

I completely agree.

 

Alan's son is bound to know all the best spots on the outlying islands etc and a catamaran can anchor in pretty shallow water, within easy wading distance of a beach.

 

He is probably also the type who just nips over the side and returns with a lobster or two, or for very little effort with rod & line gets something which is perfect for the BBQ that way instead.

 

It would also be worth asking to have a bash at kite-surfing whilst you are about it. Bear in mind that a boat with enough grunt to get a kite-surfer into the air easily has enough welly to tow a water-skier as well/instead or (better still, in my opnion) the inner tube from a tractor tyre, where the tyre is directly attached to the boat and all you have to do is sit back and enjoy the ride.

 

I want to read Episode 4 of Alan's story. All that I know so far is that they came back to the UK but now, 33 years later, they have decided to move to Australia again, this time as Contributory Parents. The visas have cost Alan such a mint one way and another that they defo won't be uprooting again once they've sold up in the UK and have settled in Oz this time.....

 

I actually thought of suggesting that Alan & his Missus should drop in on you during their forthcoming reccie/visa validation trip to NSW/QLD. I told Google Maps to get directions from Byron to Jimboomba. It said something like 2 hours. I thought,"Too far to be of interest" but reading Alan's instalments about going all over Victoria (and I think it is about 700km from Melbourne to Adelaide) he seems to have embraced the Aussie way of life so completely that 2 hours is probably a mere bagatelle to Alan & his Missus.

 

The trick, of course, is to arrange to meet wherever the boat is, though...... :yes: Then you could lounge on deck looking wealthy. How cool is that? :cool:

 

I don't suppose they'll be squeezing themselves into a Mini this time around, either! Something with suspension and airconditioning would make a world of difference, I reckon!!

 

Cheers

 

Gill

[Sids Dad]

Ha Ha, before you two finish your plotting, I have to tell you that he has it up for sail! with new (Aussie) girl friend, he has agreed to be a landlubber and is renting a property near or in Federal (20 mins from Byron Bay).

Without tempting fate we are hoping that he gets serious and one day we might, just might be grandparents.

Mind you if there is a free spirit in Australia my son has stolen it! he has done things that I have never done. He even met and drank with a guy who was the first person to circumnavigate around Antartica. I think he was call Dr David Lewis and I have read his book (interesting) he also was aground in a creek on one of the Percy Islands where there was only one inhabitant. He was with his previous girlfriend and they were given the use of a tree house complete with a pot bellied stove. The guy who lived there shot them a young goat who's predecessors were left by a certain Captain James Cook to provide meat to anyone following in their wake! the place was full of artifacs that which were hung by all the Yachties that have passed that way from their boats. This guy skinned and gutted the goat and then slung it over my son's shoulder saying " that's a much as I can do mate your on ya own"! well as my son said, Dad ever tried cutting a goats leg of with a swiss army knife?" he said they put it in this oven for hours and it was still tough. A good experience and it was captured on video and sent to us. We did manage to view it and then my better half recorded Coronation street on it by mistake and it was lost forever!!!!!

Look, you have got me telling stories again!!

[Guest maxxangel]

What superb reading Alan. You could rival Bill Bryson!

 

So this is what my parents might have experienced if only my dad had listened to my mum those many years ago. Now they will probably join us on a parents visa.

 

Off to look at the other bits of your story in the jobs section.

Cara

[Sids Dad]

Episode Four

 

Trouble was looming! To me life was good, a fantastic job, a decent car, a firm’s ford van, we lived near the beach, I had mates both Australian and Pom. So what was the matter with my little woman? She looked like she had been in a two hour washing cycle! I know the baby was not feeding well, cried all night but hell that’s what they do don’t they?

When your other half wants to go home you ignore it and think it will go away, well because that’s what I did and sobs of frustration turned into plea’s and begging to go home! Life became difficult when ten minutes ago we were laughing and the world was at our feet. I became frantic and our marriage was teetering on the brink of collapse. Eventually it was Australia on my own or we would return to Newcastle. Hindsight is a great thing and If I had more maturity then I guess we should have saved and taken a good long holiday to get it over and done with. As it stood we faced one way tickets and sent the same tea chests we came with, back the other way!

Oh it was great at first, seeing everyone again that we left 3 ½ years before and there was the odd few that had the smirk of satisfaction that we didn’t make it. Life now was very different, gone was the leaping out of bed to get out into the sunshine, replaced by a rainy grey Newcastle sky!

We stayed at my Mums in a three bedroom council house with us three taking my parents room, my sister taking the single room, my youngest brother in the second bedroom with my parents and my other brother sleeping on the downstairs settee! That was the stark reality for the next eight months.

Work was a nightmare to find but eventually I managed to get a job with the firm I used to be apprenticed with and we managed to get housed in the top floor of a block of Maisonettes at the bottom of my mam’s street. This was becoming intolerable and if you can imagine listening to the drunks passing the flats, shouting and swearing and using the bottom passageway as a toilet on their way home. My wife was now on Valium and I was still ignoring a now desperate situation.

The final straw was trying to get into the front door which was locked, my wife has passed out behind it and the three year old was screaming at the top of his lungs, frightened to death.

After nearly dislocating my shoulder trying to break the door in my wife managed to struggle to her feet and open the door.

The first thing I did was take her pills and flush them down the loo. We both sat down and broke our hearts, all the frustrations came out and we wept and wept. We knew we wanted to stay together and we knew we had made an enormous mistake.

We also know now that she had been suffering from post natal depression but back then it wasn’t really diagnosed or if it was they treated it with a box of Valium!

Once we got a grip of things I got a break, a bolt out of the blue. A good mate of mine was keeping me entertained at work by constantly ring up a number that was given to him for work on the rigs. He didn’t turn up one day and when I got home I found him sitting in my lounge with a huge grin. Where were you then I asked? Well you know that number I’ve been ringing, well I got through and they want me to travel to Glasgow on Friday and Offshore on the TP1 or something, going to fly on a helicopter from Stavanger! What!! You rat you didn’t say anything!. “Well you don’t have a passport that’s why” Of course I have a bloody passport you flaming wretch! Good he says cos you’re going too!!

What do you think I say to my wife, expecting to get a “Your going nowhere” answer. Listen she says, you do whatever you think is right and I will follow. If it’s for us then go and I will manage somehow. How long is it for anyway?, three weeks says Jeff. Three weeks I though bloody hell I’ll come back to two dead bodies.

Anyway away we went and it was pure torture, we lived on a semi-submersible for our accommodation and flew by a small bell helicopter the nine miles back and forward from the platform. We were working sometimes 17 or 18hrs a day but it was hourly paid at £3.50 and hour (Tax Free) and that was a large amount for the twenty one days in 1976. Within two trips we had enough for a deposit on a house and so things got better and Australia became a dull ache, but it never really went away.

We did try to re-kindle going back to Oz a few years later but I had lost points for my age which by then was over 36.

As Gill said I could probably write a book on the North Sea alone as I did this for 23 years before giving it up and going abroad instead. I have been across to Mexico, Chittergong in Bangladesh and now I’m here in Algeria.

I learnt only by experience that fate is what is guiding you, it’s not the destination it’s the journey, and we have all heard that one and I suppose it has an element of truth in it. Life has been good to us on the whole and there are plenty that have posted here that are struggling and I can empathise and can only wish everyone well who are making the move. Don’t forget “Life happens when your busy making other plans” (John Lennon).

I’m off now, shutting down the PC, locking the office door and will be flying out to Oz on the 4th January. The way this post has been received I think I better take a few notes when I’m there!!

 

Foot note* I have read my post back to myself and bloody hell, please don't anybody cut slit their wrists! I should really put a disclaimer on it!!

Just to sign of on a lighter note, when we were up in Cairns, we popped into a Pizza place and asked the waitress for a large ham and pineapple one. " Wine"? no we replied just the pizza. Yes Wyann?, we looked at each other, just the pizza, yes Hawwynne! we feel about helpless as we realised she was saying Hawaiian!!

[Guest Serenity]

What an amazing read. You certainly have had an interesting life and have a great skill at retelling the tale.

Best wishes and Merry Christmas

[Guest Gollywobbler]

Good God, Alan

 

It takes a serious amount of raw courage to recount such an intensely personal, difficult story without a trace of self pity and without losing sight of humour which probably didn't appear except with hindsight.

 

You are a TRUE survivor and I absolutely doff my hat to you.

 

Have a super Christmas and New Year (probably your last in the UK) followed by a great time in Australia and DO TAKE NOTES because we all want to read the Latest Chapter once you are back from your rekkie and out in Algeria again. We want to read about the North Sea and the other places as well, by the way, too....

 

I repeat my earlier comment. I should be speaking with publishers on your behalf because there is definitely a book waiting to be written inside you and you are such a natural raconteur that a ghost writer would simply be in the way.

 

Think about it, my friend, because I am definitely right about this and if we can get it away, that is your CP visa paid for with a handsome amount left over.

 

Cheers

 

Gill

[Guest peppa]

Good God, Alan

 

It takes a serious amount of raw courage to recount such an intensely personal, difficult story without a trace of self pity and without losing sight of humour which probably didn't appear except with hindsight.

 

You are a TRUE survivor and I absolutely doff my hat to you.

 

Have a super Chrstmas and New Year (probably your last in the UK) followed by a great time in Australia ad DO TAKE NOTES because we all want to read the Latest Chapter once you are back from your rekkie and out in Algeria again. We want to read about the North Sea and the other places as well, by the way, too....

 

I repeat my earlier comment. I should be speaking with publishers on your behalf because there is definitely a book waiting to be written inside you and you are such a natural raconteur that a ghost writer would simply be in the way.

 

Think about it, my friend, because I am definitely right about this and if we can get it away, that is your CP visa paid for with a handsome amount left over.

 

Cheers

 

Gill

 

 

Ill second that......

[calNgary]

Cant agree with Gill more ,,You really need to find a publisher ,,in the meantime practice on us ,,lol!!! and Alan your more than welcome here if ever you find yourself up the gold coast way,good luck with everything thats thrown at you ,,

Cal x

[Guest The Picketts]

Wow - what fascinating reading - I can't wait for the next episode - hope it will be easy to find on PIO. Definitely a Bill Bryson in the making! - all the best for your trip over.

 

Cheryl

[Sids Dad]

Hi everyone, Err a bit embarrassing all this praise for just sitting looking gormless as I type what is in my head!

Anyway thanks, Just to give you all a laugh; I'm sitting at this moment in the Phoenix Hotel in Oran as we moved up to here today because the site was closed due to the Eid Holidays. We decided to come early as we had the authorities to see us yeasterday and they have charged us with working in the country illegally!! I kid you not, it seems that due to the Algerians only issuing us with monthly business visas and we have be working on them for the past 18 month, they said we have to appear in court... wait for this on 24th Dec!! what a joke we are off out tomorrow and we have left it with the Layers to sort it out.

We were told that its a 200,000Dinar fine and/or a month in nick!! Yeah right, and thats per offence. I have seven against me and my boss has twelve!!

Australia looks all the more inviting now, going for a beer and then make my escape tomorrow!! Ha ha.

Have a Great Xmas and New Year everyone and I will post as soon as I get sorted.

P.S. depending on my head I may type the next episode on the plane tomorrow.

[The Broughtons]

I am absolutely loving hearing about your life - you may just write down what's in your head but you are having us in hysterics some of the time and ready to cry with you at other times. This is true talent and I really do hope there are many more tales ready to come from your keyboard.

Here's hoping that your 'court appearance' goes well!

 

Felicity:wub:

[calNgary]

part 5 ,,as copied from Alans post !!

Episode Five

 

The Rigs

 

Glasgow bound, me and my mate Geoff, arriving at a central Hotel mid afternoon. After dropping our bags off we decided the only sensible thing to do would be to go for a pint. I haven’t a clue what it’s like now (maybe one of our members can tell me) but back then it seemed that every bar was full from about 4.30pm until 7pm and then whoosh, the city centre was virtually empty!

It turns out that the city centre all go on the drink for a mad couple of hours and then go home. I had never seen a businessman dressed in a sharp suit and clutching a briefcase literally hanging on to a lamppost before!

After getting bored we headed back to the Hotel for our evening meal and found a whole bunch of guys giving it yaldie and blotto by”” 9pm. We chanced a bottle of wine on the bill and hit the sack.

Next morning 5.30 was like a scene from “one flew over the Cuckoos nest” as there were all these guys steaming drunk, one even asking all and sundry if they had any 50 pence pieces so he could get some miniatures from a machine!

We took off early morning in a Dakota, landing in Stavanger Norway and transferring by bus to the heliport. To see the scene was a sight to behold, at that time all you had was a Mae West pouch to tie round your waist (No survival suits yet.) Geoff pointed to two Jocks obviously worse for wear, holding up their mate who was gibbering, onto the scales which worked out how much fuel was required. The sight of this poor bugger as he held his kit bag and trying to convince the Norwegians that he is perfectly alright will remain with me always. They actually let him fly which wouldn’t happen these days.

After a couple of hours in the air we arrived on the West Venture Rig, we got assigned the same room and took our bags into a quite large bedroom which had wooden wardrobes and a sink.

Geoff disappears on a scouting mission to see what the score is and returned ten minutes later to declare, “ mate, this going to be a doddle, I cannot see a soul working and if they want to give me £3.50 an hour for this then I’m yer man”

We sat for five minutes until we heard a Tannoy……””passengers for the TP1 to the helideck, passengers for the TP1…. We looked at each other and Geoff said, did that bloke on the phone not say something about the TP1? I dunno I said you spoke to him!

Geoff disappeared again, appearing two minutes later shouting “ Hurry up get your gear they’re waiting for us!!

It turned out that the West Venture was only the accommodation and we were to shuttle the nine miles back and forth for the next three weeks to the Platform. We reported to the platform office and Geoff was put on nightshift, me on days. We used to pass each other on the bridge and just groan, uttering one trip and that’s the F-ing lot!

All of a sudden life was desperate again, 16 hour shifts and if the fog came in which was a regular occurrence, then you just kept on working.

If anyone tells you that the food offshore was great in these days then they are lying. The cook (I couldn’t call him a Chef) used to cook scampi in breadcrumbs at a temperature barely past the hot, a right greasy mess, and the dessert was either a huge tin of vanilla sponge or chocolate cake with custard.

My recollections of the accommodation was lying in my bunk hearing all this commotion in the passageway, leaning over from the top bunk I opened the door a little to see a disgruntled Yank pushing Turds ( Bondi Cigars!) along a floor swimming with the remains of the backed up toilets.

I also remember lying in the four man room after a gruelling shift playing dark Side of the Moon and a welder who was on the top bunk declaring, “I was a happy man until I found oil on my driveway”. He repeated this for three nights in a row and eventually Geoff said, “For F**** sake what are you jabbering on about? Well he said, …..I haven’t got a car!! OOPS.

When we were home we literally went berserk as we wanted to cram in every waking hour with something, anything that prolonged the going back. We had intended to only do one trip and we were relieved when we got off the platform and safely back home. This lasted until Geoff called and said, “did you get a telegram for you to ring and confirm your return date”? Yes I said…..what are you going to do? Well money is a curse sometimes and when you get five or six times a normal salary and it could be tax free then the pain you went though to get it, diminishes when you are able to pay cash for a new washing machine!

There was also some bad memories of a rigger who happened to be an ex BA champion army boxer. We were all a bit scared of Ernie, and he was a bully. I remember a young welder who, when we were queuing for the greasy spoon to open, jumped the line as he only wanted to get a sandwich. Ernie hauled him back with a snarl, get to the f****** back ****head!. The welder broke away and slipped into the galley to make his sarnie. Ernie ate his lunch and then went to the tea shack where the luckless welder was sitting eating his lunch. Ernie nearly killed that lad, he battered him until his face was unrecognisable and ultimately they were both sacked for fighting. That’s a laugh the poor kid never stood a chance.

Such was the damage that Ernie was told not only are you sacked but was told he would never work in the North Sea again. One week later Ernie was working for William Press in another field.

The Black Pig (The Thistle)

 

Well, altogether I must have been on the Hook-up and commissioning of 16 platforms this being the first of the UK one’s.

We had a lot of fun on these early Hook-ups as they were long jobs where modules were sent out and were installed by giant cranes and each one took an age to “Join” together. Nowadays they are virtually complete before they go Offshore and the Hook-Up stage is far shorter.

My recollections here though are not of the fun we had but rather the tragedy that occurred when 5 Divers were lost when their “Bell” became detached at a depth of 300 feet. The bell is what they use to work at great depths for long periods of time as its pressurised inside and the divers swim out and back in without having to de-compress. Once it was known that it had been detached from the cranes cable all hell broke loose with the remaining topside divers wanting to assist the rescue operation. This was being attempted by a dive support vessel and the heart breaking thing was that they did manage to hook if back on, only for it to become detached again when being retrieved. When they were eventually brought back to the surface they were all dead and frozen into the foetal position with the extreme cold. The direct result of this accident brought sweeping changes to the regulations as the divers were from all over the world and identification was a nightmare as they were all working cash in hand from the dive company.

Two years later I was assigned one of the rooms used by one of divers who was lost and on opening his locker I found his divers knife and some brand new thermals which I put to good use.

The fun side of this job was one I will always remember, we used to be able to dial 333 and it gave you the Tannoy system. So at the start of shift we would hear a wag crowing like a cockerel. One of the clients men was such a sneak and he used to hide behind girders to try and catch some of the contractors nipping across the bridge to the accommodation early and various other misdemeanours.

The is one thing that everyone should know about a workforce such as Oil workers, bearing in mind they are from all over the UK and sometimes beyond, they will never be beaten in either discipline or humour. Each day you would hear the Tannoy go “PING PONG”…. Bill L you wife’s a ***** sha*!!.........PING PONG Bill L your sons a flaming poof etc etc. It was so bad that the radio op was instructed to listen to every Tannoy and if he heard Bill L he was to hover his hand over the switch and if he started to get abused he was to flick it… PING PONG to cut it off.

Well this seemed to do the trick as they could not finish the abuse so it was pointless, that is until one morning we heard the usual cockerel and then a stroke of genius, PING PONG…….will Bill L (visions of radio op with finger poised) please ring (radio op relaxes)…….ya F****n neck!! ………..PING PONG!!!!!!

I also remember on another platform where you had to ring the radio room to get a Tannoy put out if you wanted someone etc. It didn’t take long for the wags to find out that the radio op was brand new and had not been offshore before, we used to be in fits of laughter listening to him putting out messages such as; will Mr Ian Dury please go to the helideck to pick up his blockheads!! Or would Mr C lions please go to the water tank!!

Another tragic/comic scenario took place not long after the Alexander Keiland which was a rig accommodation broke one of its legs and turned over in a force 9 storm. A lot of good lads lost.

A few months later I was sitting with five others in the rig cinema after finishing nightshift. We were sitting with our legs dangling over the seats in front when we heard all this CRASH, BANG, CRASH BANG, noise which we thought was containers being bumped around the deck outside.

It was actually the standby vessel which according to later statements had lost control of its steering and was coming under the semi sub!! The noise we could hear was the sound of it’s funnel and masts being smashed off! All of a sudden it hit bow first square on to the cross spar and the rig tipped to an angle of 45 degrees and we all were thrown over our seats!

Immediately your instincts take over, you remember the Keiland and survival is everything, the training that you had doesn’t even register, you want out and fast!

Well the sight of five grown men tearing at each other to get through a doorway was something else. We fell about laughing later on when we found out what had happened.

There is a huge amount that I could recount but it’s time to leave the offshore story now and head back to Aberdeen where we were preparing the scope of work for another hook-up and events that nobody prepares us for, The death of our parents.