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Outback Penguin Page 2

by Stuart Kells


  After the death of my father in 1982 and shortly thereafter my mother, the diaries were again packed up and moved, this time to my home in Hawthorn. They did not see the light of day for thirty years. In 2010 the diaries beckoned again.

  I contacted the staff of the State Library of South Australia to see what information it had about the Barwell Scheme, and to offer to share Richard’s diaries with them. They were delighted to be able to study them. I also managed to obtain my father’s records from the South Australian Immigration Department. Those documents were enlightening: it was apparent that my father had a tough time during his farm apprenticeship. The photo I obtained from the Immigration Department on the day the boys arrived in Adelaide, after the four-week trip on the Bendigo, shows a young, fresh-faced boy. By the end of his time in Australia, Richard Lane the man had emerged.

  It is a delight to now see my father’s Barwell diaries in print with Professor Geoffrey Blainey’s eloquent introduction, and I am exceptionally grateful to him for his wise words and his interest in the book. Like Penguin and the Lane Brothers, the present book is the result of my daughter Louise and me collaborating with our friends and fellow book-lovers Stuart and Fiona Kells. It was under Fiona’s watchful eye that the newly rendered and edited words painted the evocative picture of my father’s early years in Australia. I am so enormously appreciative of Fiona’s work on these diaries, as whilst some entries have been updated for spelling and grammar, his handwritten words still shine through. All four of us are credited as editors, in recognition of our many hours of joint work, which was characterised by sincere commitment and shared enjoyment. Outback Penguin: Richard Lane’s Barwell Diaries is a fitting tribute to my father and to the other boys who featured in this fascinating part of Australian history.

  Elizabeth Lane

  November 2015

  LONDON TO ADELAIDE

  Wednesday, 6 September 1922

  Went to London by 1.45. Saw Mrs Brewer in train with her daughter. (Mrs Bowen’s husband in Australian Army.) They got out at Bath and waved until train was out of sight. Empty carriage to London.

  Dorothy met me at Paddington. We went to The Bodley Head and met Allen; we all went to Australia House. Allen and I went to The Lady of the Rose and had supper at a Lyons Restaurant. Did not go to bed until after 1 o’clock.

  Thursday, 7 September 1922

  Allen and I went to St Pancras; met Mac and Stevenson. Went to Tilbury, and went on board by tender. We started soon after 2 o’clock. The boat went around in two or three circles to test compasses etc. For dinner we had mutton, potatoes and beans (butter); for tea, beef, bread and butter and marmalade; for supper, biscuits and cheese. There was no vibration and no heaving. Had a rotten night – eight in a very small cabin with no porthole. Six out of the eight went on deck in pyjamas after 11 o’clock. Very stuffy and an awful din from adjoining cabins. We managed to get Stevenson in our cabin. One chap slept in his shirt. I had rather a bad fit of the blues in the evening. We saw the lighthouses both sides of channel. In the cabin, you could not tell the boat was moving.

  Friday, 8 September 1922

  A tug came alongside this morning; it took away the man who changed the English cash into Australian, and some letters or something in bags. The ship has commenced to heave but I am still alright. I had a telegram today; it must have come yesterday, but I did not apply for it. There are a lot of kids on board. While I am writing, one is making an awful din.

  I cannot see any land while I am writing this, but there is a boat on the horizon. I gave my money to the purser this morning. The sea is lovely and blue now, and there are a lot of white horses (I believe this is the right term) about. We are only allowed on one deck here and I am writing this sitting in a borrowed (by French leave) deck chair. Several people around me are enjoying afternoon tea. They are a very mixed crowd here. The Bendigo is a new boat and this is her maiden voyage. Some say this and others say that it has been used before, as a cargo boat, and that this is her first voyage as a passenger boat; I cannot say which is right yet. I may find out later on.

  6.15: I have just been sick – the first time this trip. Let’s hope it will be the last. I stuck up on deck as long as I could and then I went down to the cabin. I had to run the last part and I had not time to switch on the electric light before I was sick; it was about 6 o’clock. The ship is tossing quite well now, only too well. Even though this is only the second day of the trip, I have come across one of the worst evils of this world. I saw three pupils’ playing cards for money; one had lost several shillings. Needless to say, I did not join them. Thank you very much, Father and Mother, for trying to bring me up in the right way.

  The babies here are awful; from where I sit I can see over twenty (more than fifteen of them under three years old). One is having a bottle. Why can’t the ship keep still? I shall be jolly glad when we reach Adelaide. I have got another fit of the blues. We had porridge, bacon and sausages, and bread, butter and marmalade for breakfast. For dinner, beef, potatoes and cabbage. I did not have any tea or supper.

  Saturday, 9 September 1922

  Last night I was dosed by Mrs Petheram; she gave me a mixture of brandy, peppermint and hot water. I had a bit better night last night but it is awful. Eight of us in a cabin a lot smaller than the red room at home – just think of it! The sea is very rough now. We are in the bay. The ship is tossing and pitching terribly. Some water has just splashed up on deck. I am sitting on one of the Petheram’s deck chairs writing this. It is 11 o’clock. I am reading A Cuckoo in the Nest by Ben Travers.

  The sea is terribly rough now. We passed a boat just now that was tossing even worse than we were. When the bows went down, the screw was out of water. There is another boat passing now that is rolling equally badly. On the notice board there is a wireless message saying that they have received an S.O.S. signal from a German boat – S/S Hammonia – saying that she is sinking rapidly and that she has 800 passengers on board. The Kinfauns Castle has gone to the rescue and reports that she can manage without any more assistance. The Hammonia was going to Vigo and she was only 100 miles from there. We were quite close to where she sank.

  Sunday, 10 September 1922

  The sea has calmed down a lot and it is comparatively smooth now. For breakfast we had bacon and eggs, and for dinner, soup, beef (roast), potatoes, beans (butter), plum pudding and custard, and an apple. The tea we have is always terribly strong and the biscuits are not inferior to dog’s biscuits.

  Monday, 11 September 1922

  There are about eighty pupils on board and we have to attend roll call every morning at 9.30; it is going to start today. It is getting decidedly warm here and in the cabin it is intolerable. There is a life belt for everybody in the cabin, but there is no place to put them. When we arrived they were on the bed or bunk and there they have to remain. They are something after the style of that jacket that Allen and I made out of the corks we collected after the Royal Show; I daresay you remember.

  Please excuse the writing as I do all of it sitting in a deck chair and, although comfortable, it is not conducive to good writing. I suppose you saw in the papers about the German boat Hammonia which sank yesterday. I have not yet heard what caused her to sink.

  It is rumoured on board that we have two stowaways, that one man is in irons and that it is doubtful if a girl has fallen overboard or not – but I don’t think that either of the latter two is true. I have just been barged by a deck chair. The kids here delight in pushing deck chairs along the deck and barging everybody, accidently of course!

  There is also on board a thing called a ‘Sammie car’. It has three wheels and a seat, and is a bit smaller than the average scooter. The owner of this contraption also delights in biffing into people. There are several scooters on board, and quite a number of cats.

  The Captain has promised to try and let us have a swimming bath so that we can do some Neptune stunts when we cross the line. We ought to touch the Canary Islands tomorrow. We have had a ver
y good voyage so far (touch wood) and with any luck we ought to arrive before we expected to.

  They took out the ‘wanted’ baggage this morning. My trunk was rather badly knocked about and most of the labels were off. I took out my old sports coat – which I am now wearing – and put away the new one.

  Tuesday, 12 September 1922

  There is a man on board whose name is Tyler. He is going to Australia as a missionary and he is a very decent chap. He is very different from the other clergyman whose name is Father Wigram. His nickname is ‘George Robey’ and he is a scream. There was a concert, or rather two, last night: one on deck and the other in the dining saloon. They were held simultaneously, and after a performer or singer had done his bit in the saloon he would do the same thing up on deck.

  The weather is beautiful today and the colours of the sea are indescribable. Last night I watched the phosphorescence of the sea. It was indeed superb. There is one thing that you notice very much in the evening, and that is that there is hardly any twilight. It is quite bright at one moment and, in a few minutes, it is too dark to read or write.

  The Petherams are awfully decent to me. They usually have afternoon tea, and some cake and cocoa for supper, and if I am anywhere near they always offer me some. Mrs Petheram treats me exactly as if I were her son.

  Wednesday, 13 September 1922

  Yesterday afternoon we passed the Canary Islands. The Captain, who is a sport, brought the ship in quite close to the shore. I think the town we saw must have been Las Palmas. The mountains were glorious, both from a distance and from as close as we went in. We went very slowly and so we got quite a good view of the place. I took a couple of photos, but I am very doubtful if they will come out well as the sun was in the wrong quarter.

  We are not allowed to go right up in the bows, but yesterday several of us did. The water was the clearest I have ever seen. The ship draws between thirty and thirty-two feet, and when the water was calm you could see the bottom of the boat as clear as if there was not water there. And the colour of the water was exquisite. I saw several flying fish here; they are simply wonderful.

  Yesterday’s sunset was the most wonderful sight one could wish to see. The sun set over the hills of Tenerife and the whole sky was one large panorama of wonderful colourings. Had there been perfect quietness I could have written several pages about it, but one has to be in the mood for it and it is almost impossible to express on paper an impression of the atmosphere equal to that which we experienced last night. The whole appearance of the sky changed every second and it would be ridiculous to ask an ineloquent person like myself to attempt to describe the wonderful colours and tones of the ever changing miracle. From the dark, blue-black appearance of the sea close to the ship, to foamy white with patches of light green and azure blue.

  Then there was a broad space of another shade of blue, slightly darker, terminating in a perfect line of white where the waves rolled up the beach or struck the projecting rocks. Then, the mountains – every possible shade of grey and black, intermittently dotted with the scarcely visible houses and buildings. The hardest part to describe is the sky, which was not the same for two consecutive minutes. One moment it was a fiery red and the next a wonderful yellow. The light, fleecy clouds, which are usually white, were all tinged with red, and between the streaky red and yellow were wondrous spaces of a beautiful green. Still higher in the heavens were the more common colours of light grey, light blue and dark blue, but no one could call them common in such a wonderful setting. All the colours were in perfect harmony. No artist could paint such a picture, for long before he had finished even one colour the whole scene would have changed, and even though he tried to paint it from memory some of the beauty would invariably be lost. The sight made me instinctively think of you all at home. I am sure you will all see the same sight one day, and I only hope I shall be with you so that we can enjoy it together.

  I had a cold bath last night. The taps are so large and the pressure so good that you can have the bath filled with either hot or cold water (salt) in a couple of minutes.

  I forgot to mention, in connection with the sunset, that the beauty of the water was greatly enhanced by the golden reflection of the sun on it.

  All the cabins in our part of the ship can be knocked down in a few hours and the space used for cargo; this is what they will do at the end of the voyage. The cabins will be erected again when the ship arrives in England. The total number of people on board is 1,241. The passengers number 1,016, of whom 158 are children under twelve years, and the crew number 225. There are fifteen kids under one year old. The Captain’s name is John McInnes Borland and, as his name implies, he is Scotch.

  For several hours after leaving Las Palmas one could distinguish a solitary light. It did not flicker like a lighthouse but it shone steadily, a silent testimonial to the wonderful sight we had seen there a few hours before, and then all was dark save the lights on the ship and the phosphorescence of the sea.

  Thursday, 14 September 1922

  Phew, golly – it is warm this morning. Last night I slept on deck. You would hardly realize what a terrific change this was from a stuffy old hole where you lie, by the hour, sweating streams and longing for sleep, to a mattress on deck with a couple of blankets and a delightfully cool breeze wafting with great celerity upon your fevered brow. At 5 o’clock a steward woke us up and said they wanted to scrub the deck, so we moved to the top of a hatchway. At 6 o’clock the chief steward woke us up and said we all had to go below. You are not allowed to sleep on deck (in your pyjamas) before 10pm and not after 6am.

  The crew has been practising life boat drill this morning.

  There are hundreds of flying fish about and I have seen several birds today. I saw eleven at one time, and one or two butterflies. We overtook one boat this morning; it was a long way out, but I think it was a cargo boat.

  On the notice board there is the news of the last few days; it came by wireless. There is nothing startling – voting in USA, still trouble in Ireland and a lot of other usual news. Some men on board have arranged to have a sweepstake every day on the mileage. I have not gone in for it yet, and I don’t suppose I shall.

  I have just had a game of deck quoits with ‘George Robey’ (the parson) and Mr Garvie. Just as I was writing ‘the parson’ in brackets the Very Rev. gentleman walked up behind me and started to talk about the game. I need not say he does not know that his nickname is ‘George Robey’. Mr Garvie is a very decent chap; he is going back to Australia from a tour of the world in which he acted as secretary to a fairly old lady. He is very keen on books and we spend several hours together discussing them.

  I have just seen several dolphins; they must have been fairly large fish and they jumped out of the water very gracefully. At present it is raining slightly, but it is nothing to worry about. The sky line is very clear now. The surgeon has a very busy time on this boat. His hours are from 9–9.30am for the crew and from 10–10.30am for the passengers; the rest of the day he walks up and down the deck smoking, and occasionally exchanges a few words with somebody. Today he is dressed in a white drill suit, and he imagines himself somebody.

  Friday, 15 September 1922

  I slept on deck again last night. There was another beautiful sunset, although I do not think it was quite as good as the last one where it set over Las Palmas. It was very beautiful indeed. It appeared as if the sun was setting over a wonderful mountain, and on the right of the mountain there was a great forest and on the left there was a ruin of a castle with a very realistic forest fire in the distance.

  We have just overtaken a ship; several passengers say they think it was a Union Castle boat.

  It is terribly hot here in the tropics. Directly you go down for your meals you begin to perspire and long before you have finished you are damp all over. I do not think I will have any tea today, it is really too hot. There are herrings for tea.

  Mr Tyler – who is the scoutmaster of a troop of scouts which has been formed on board
– takes about a dozen of us for ‘physical jerks’ every morning at 6.30.

  Father will remember the man at Taylors, in Baldwin St., making a couple of extra holes in the belt he bought for me. Now both are too big, and at the rate I am going on I shall be able to wind it around myself twice.

  I can hardly hold my pen while I am writing because it is so damp through perspiration. The sea is very calm now but the boat is by no means still as regards rolling. It is just like a Turkish bath. I expect Father knows all about it.

  Saturday, 16 September 1922

  As per usual I slept on deck last night. Every day, and in every respect, it gets hotter and hotter. Yesterday you could get iced water in the main dining saloon. You can bet I had several drinks.

  Mr Tyler is going out to Australia with a friend, Mr Tomlins. They are training to be missionaries. They will land at Melbourne and proceed upcountry for a couple of hundred miles to a college.

  Sunday, 17 September 1922

  There is a beautifully cool breeze here today, as it is a head wind. I expect we shall cross the line tomorrow, but I am afraid the swimming-bath idea has fallen through. At the rate we are going we ought to arrive at Cape Town on Monday 25th instead of Thursday 28th as we were first informed. If we do, I wonder if this will make any difference to the letters we hope to receive there. I hope not.

  Monday, 18 September 1922

  There was a notice on the board this morning which read: ‘The Bendigo will cross “the line” at 9.15 this morning.’ Now I have crossed it – I did not see it and I did not feel any bump.

 

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