The Winter Sea

by Morrissey, Di

  For the first few weeks at the camp, Joe fretted for his family and his business. He had heard nothing from Bridie and he wondered about her efforts to get him out. Depressed about the whole situation he told himself that there was nothing anyone could do for him and that he would just have to learn to make the best of the situation while the war lasted.

  One day he heard that several more Italians were coming to their camp from an overcrowded camp in Queensland. Through the wire fence Joe watched the men file off a dusty bus looking tired and incurious about their new surroundings. Joe was about to turn away, when one of the new internees caught his eye.

  ‘Antonio! Tony!’ Joe jumped up and down, trying to catch his old friend’s attention.

  Tony paused, looking around.

  ‘It’s me, Joe! Giuseppe!’

  Tony spotted him and gave a wave.

  When they found each other they embraced, grinning madly, hardly believing the coincidence of being in the same camp.

  ‘This is the best thing that’s happened to me in a while,’ said Tony, looking older, but very fit and tanned. ‘Do you want a smoke? I guess we have a lot to catch up on.’

  When Joe told him about finding Bridie again and marrying her, Tony slapped his friend joyfully on the back.

  ‘That’s wonderful news! But it’s sad that you lost your first wife. Still, she gave you three good sons, so things have worked out for you.’

  Tony told Joe that he had never got as far north as Innisfail, but had instead worked hard in the cane fields around Ayr.

  ‘I was very lucky, too. I married an Australian girl and we saved and bought our own cane farm. I tried to find you at one stage, but it is hard to leave the cane fields, there is always so much to do, and you were a long way away in New South Wales. I figured wherever you were, it wouldn’t be too far from the sea. I’ve produced a lot of sugar and two daughters,’ he added proudly. ‘Life was good till this mess happened.’ His face darkened in anger. ‘The police started working their way down the coast from Cairns to Brisbane, rounding up Italians, people like me, even tracking them to the middle of isolated cane fields! But Joe, it’s even worse than that. I found out that some disgruntled folk have sold out their mates for money or to settle a grudge with totally groundless accusations. Don’t know who to trust these days.’

  Joe shook his head. ‘Tony, people are in here just because they’re Italian. Doesn’t matter what their political convictions are – Fascists, Communists, neutral. It almost makes you cry when you think of the poor buggers who left Italy to escape Fascism only to end up here.’

  ‘The guards think we’re all just “eyties” but there seems to be a very mixed bunch in here.’

  Joe nodded. ‘People in here come from all parts of Italy and have all sorts of occupations. There are a couple of doctors, a chemist, various engineers, a real estate agent, at least three accountants, people who have their own businesses. I’ve met taxi drivers, cooks, carpenters and a blacksmith. I’m the only fisherman,’ he added with a slight smile.

  ‘Do you know that I came down here with a man from Piedmont who has a son serving in the Australian army and they still locked him up! Madness!’

  ‘It’s hard on everyone’s family,’ said Joe. ‘Bridie is very capable, but it won’t be easy trying to run a fishing fleet by herself and my sons should not be raised without a father to guide them.’

  ‘I have the same concern about Marion and the cane farm. It’s going to be hard to make up the financial loss after this bloody farce,’ said Tony.

  Joe had worked long and hard on his fishing boats, believing that his reward for his sweat and honesty would be economic security and political freedom, and this treatment was a hard pill to swallow. All over the camp Joe heard tales about the injustice of the enemy alien internment system from people who wanted to share their stories.

  ‘My son received notification from Italy that he had to turn up to do his national service or be arrested. He didn’t answer because as far as he’s concerned, Australia is his home. He even went and joined the Australian army. But just before he was due to be shipped overseas, the police arrived demanding to know where he’d been born. When he told them it was Italy he was accused of being a Fascist and interned.’

  ‘I was rounded up at work and not even allowed to go home to say goodbye to my family or collect some clothes, and I told the police that I became a citizen in 1928 and I am now a subject of His Majesty King George the sixth, but they took no notice!’ another angry man told Joe.

  Others told of being taken into custody on a Sunday when it was known they would be at home. Sometimes, Joe was told, houses were searched and if letters from Italy were found they were deemed to be incriminating evidence. A man related how one of his children’s toys was confiscated because it was thought to be a machine for producing Morse code.

  Joe had been in the internment camp for several weeks before he finally received a letter from Bridie. It had been censored. The name Whitby Point had been blacked out, which amused Joe. Did the authorities think he would have forgotten where he came from? But there had been little effort made to delete anything else.

  My darling Joe,

  We all miss you very, very much, but we are coping without you (just). The business is fine. The boys are helping so much. Ricardo is a tower of strength. He knows so much about how the business works and I rely on his advice all the time. You should be very proud of him. Patrick and Carlo have suspended hostilities and come straight from school to the wharf to lend a hand. Even Pietro has pitched in, although he never stops complaining about smelly fish. Still, his heart is in the right place. I don’t know how I would manage without your mother, either. After she got over the shock of your arrest, she completely took over the running of the house. She won’t let me lift a finger and does all the housework and cooking so that I can keep the business going.

  Poor Franco and Silvio have both been sent to the internment camp in Cowra. I think their wives are finding it a battle to keep the fleet going in Wollongong because many of the Italians they employed have also been sent to camps. I think they are trying to hire retired Australian fishermen. I hate to have to tell you this, but I’m having to do the same thing as we have lost some of our men as well, not just the Italians who have become internees, but also our Australians as they are joining up. Just the same it is a pleasure to be able to give work to someone who has not had a proper job in years because of the Depression, which I have done on two occasions now. These men have proved to be hard workers and tell me so often how grateful they are to be employed that they embarrass me.

  Joe, my darling, the whole town was really shocked when you were taken away. I thought that when I started a petition to have you released that I might have trouble finding support, but I was very wrong. Everyone I have asked has been happy to sign. My friends in the CWA have taken the petition out of town to their friends on the farms and when I asked the mayor if he could help he said that it was a disgrace that a good citizen, such as yourself, should be taken away for no good reason and that not only would he be happy to support the petition but he would raise the matter urgently with our local MP.

  Please look after yourself and don’t get too down. I’m sure that it will only be a matter of time before you’re out of there and home to us.

  You are in my thoughts, day and night.

  All my love,

  Bridie

  As the days dragged by, Joe began to think that Bridie’s efforts had all been for nothing, when suddenly, without any fanfare, he was released. Indeed he was bundled out of the camp so fast that he only had a quick chance to tap Tony on the shoulder to wake him and tell him he was leaving and that he’d make contact with Tony’s wife as soon as he could.

  Joe was deposited at the nearest railway station and given a train ticket to Sydney and a couple of shillings for food. It was a long and tiring trip. There were not enough seats on the train and he had to stand for much of the way. He wished he’d
been able to contact Bridie and arrange to meet her in Sydney and travel back to Whitby Point together, but organising a long-distance phone call, especially with so little money, proved to be impossible. He consoled himself with the thought of how surprised she would be when he got home. How he’d missed her, longed for her, and soon he would be with her again.

  From Sydney, he started walking south. Several times he managed to get lifts and a few miles from Whitby Point a milk truck stopped and picked him up, dropping him at the turnoff into the town.

  He walked home, relishing the smell of the sea, the fresh air, the greenness of the hills, and the peace of the pretty coastline and town. In a place like Whitby Point, it was hard to believe there was a war being fought, or that good men were being incarcerated unjustly. The morning was filled with sunshine. He realised how hungry he was and he looked forward to his mother’s fresh bread and eggs and a tomato from the garden for his breakfast.

  A car came to a halt beside him and an elderly man flung open the passenger’s door.

  ‘Hey Joe, did you escape?’

  ‘Sure did. How’re things, Sam?’

  ‘Fine, just fine. Damned glad to see you. You got sprung from that camp, eh? That petition must have worked. Whole thing was bloody ridiculous. No one in Whitby Point thinks you’re an enemy agent. Does the missus know you’re coming home?’

  ‘No, I’ll just surprise her.’

  ‘You certainly will. Good to have you back, Joe. The whole town will be pleased.’

  Sam let Joe out of the car outside his house.

  ‘Appreciate that, Sam,’ said Joe as he jumped out. ‘See you round.’ He turned and raced up the steps of the verandah, calling Bridie’s name.

  Bridie was at the end of the verandah watering some plants and she dropped the watering-can and raced to Joe, laughing and crying at the same time.

  ‘Joe, I can’t believe it’s you! I have missed you so much.’ She put her arms around his neck and kissed him in a way that proved her point.

  Soon there were shouts and cries from the boys and sobs from his mother as the house awakened to Joe’s homecoming.

  ‘I haven’t eaten good food for ages, and I’m starving,’ Joe declared above the rest of the noise.

  Quickly the house was filled with the smell of coffee and toast, and the sound of laughter and everyone talking at once carried down to where the boats were rocking at anchor in the little sheltered harbour.

  *

  After Joe came home, things almost returned to normal. Unfortunately there were conditions attached to his release. He had to report to the police station every day, but this soon became part of his routine. He was also forbidden from going out on the large trawler so, if he went fishing at all, he had to confine himself to the smaller boats, and even for that he had to apply for a permit. In addition he was not allowed to travel more than twenty miles from Whitby Point. Joe was concerned about how things were going for the family in Wollongong and he frequently phoned to discuss and help manage Franco and Silvio’s end of the business with their wives.

  One day, after such a phone call, he said to Bridie, ‘Those women, especially Silvio’s wife, are very capable. They know what they are doing. But getting suitable men for their boats is an ongoing problem. So many men are needed for the armed forces, heavy industry is expanding at Port Kembla and the coal around Wollongong can’t be mined fast enough. I’m glad I’ve got Ricardo. He’s becoming more and more important to us and I’m glad that the war is so far away that he doesn’t feel the need to join up.’

  *

  Less than a year later, however, the war came a lot closer to Australia with the bombing of Pearl Harbor and the disastrous fall of Singapore. People began to fear a Japanese invasion of Australia.

  ‘Do you really think that the Japanese will attack Australia?’ Bridie asked one night over dinner.

  ‘Our coastline is vulnerable. There’s no way we can patrol every inch of it,’ said Joe. ‘I truly hope we’re not going to find any foreign subs off our beaches.’

  After dinner Joe went to check the boatsheds and make sure all the fuel and gear was safely locked up. All seemed secure enough so he got back into the car and, on a whim, drove a little further along the coast road, stopped and got out to look at the beach. A fence of barbed wire was strung along the length of it, although it appeared to Joe to be a pathetic defence against any attack from the darkening sea. As he stood there a sense of worry swept over him. This vast island continent seemed so vulnerable in its isolation. He had made Australia his home and he loved the place and he didn’t want his boys to lose the freedom and the opportunities that he had enjoyed.

  He looked out to sea and thought he could see a long black shape, shark-like, moving through the water beneath the surface. He remembered how, as a boy, he’d had a sixth sense about what was beneath the waves. Now he stared at the horizon, trying to see if there was an unusual white wash, the sign of a vessel, but he could make out nothing. He shuddered and hurried back to the car, driving carefully through the blacked-out town to his home.

  Bridie looked up from her knitting as he walked in. ‘We were getting worried about you. It’s just come over the radio that there’s been a possible submarine sighting, just north of us, off Nowra.’

  Joe shook his head. ‘Don’t worry. It’s probably a false alarm. Anyway, we know our drill and what to do.’

  That night he held Bridie in his arms and prayed the war would soon be over. But to his dismay, a couple of days later, Ricardo broke the news that he had joined the navy.

  ‘I know that you need me here to help you, Papà, but I also think that I should help defend my country. I’ll be at sea, so I’ll be fine.’

  Joe stared at his son. He felt very proud. He knew that things in the business would be hard without Ricardo, but he also knew that his son was doing the right thing. ‘Have you told Bridie and Nonna, yet?’

  ‘No, they’ll make a fuss.’

  ‘Ricardo, they will be like me. Proud of your decision.’

  *

  After a brief training period, Ricardo joined the destroyer HMAS Arunta, which was deployed escorting convoys to New Guinea in the war against the Japanese. A couple of weeks later, the Australian government requisitioned Joe’s trawler for the duration of the war so that it, too, could be used in this vital work.

  ‘It’s terrible, losing my trawler, but, funnily enough, not having it makes the loss of Ricardo a less difficult hole to fill. Bridie, do you think things will ever go back to the way they were?’ said Joe, as they sat on the verandah.

  ‘Joe, I’ve had an idea that might help alleviate our manpower problem. Why don’t you let me drive the fish up to Sydney? You can’t go, and it seems a waste to send one of the men when he could be far more use on a boat.’

  ‘Bridie, I can’t let you do that.’

  ‘Why not?’ replied Bridie promptly. ‘You taught me to drive the car. How much harder can our truck be? Joe, lots of women are taking over men’s jobs these days. In factories, on farms, everywhere. Look at Franco’s and Silvio’s wives. You never thought that they could run the business, but you’ve said yourself that they are doing really well. I’d like to feel that I’m doing my bit for the war effort. I know that my work for the Red Cross and the CWA is important but this is a time when we all have to pull together, so I want to do more. Nonna will feed the boys and look after the house while I’m away. And I don’t have to do it all the time. Just when you are really short-staffed.’

  ‘You probably won’t be able to go every day because of petrol rationing, but let’s see how we go.’ Joe gave a deep sigh. ‘Nothing seems right, does it? You want to drive a truck and I’m going to let you. The world has turned upside down.’

  Bridie enjoyed driving the truck to Sydney a couple of days a week. She liked delivering the fish to the markets where she talked with the traders, finding out how things were in Sydney. The invasion of Sydney Harbour by Japanese midget submarines had brought the city
directly into the war. Some people, she was told, had fled the city, looking for safe havens. She also learned that the influx of American soldiers had changed the city. Everyone seemed very hopeful that General MacArthur would be able to bring the war to a speedy conclusion, although everyone acknowledged that beating the Japanese wouldn’t be easy.

  ‘Joe, the Americans are turning the tide of the war in the Pacific. It can’t go on forever. Things will go back to normal one day, I’m sure,’ she told Joe after she returned from Sydney one evening.

  ‘Well, I hope when it is over we can build the business back up. But those men coming home . . . I wonder how Ricardo will be . . .’ His voice trailed off.

  Bridie sat on the arm of his chair, put her arm around his shoulder and leaned her head on his. ‘He will be fine. He’s at sea, and when the war is over he’ll come back here and work with his father again. You know that’s all he’s ever wanted.’

  ‘I know. Maybe because he’s the eldest but also he’s the one most like me when it comes to fishing. I was thinking I might send Carlo up to work with Franco and Silvio for a while once they’re back home and Carlo’s finished school. Patrick says he’s happy, but do you know what he wants to do with his life? Has he said anything to you?’

  ‘I genuinely think he loves it here, the fishing, the sea, the people. It’s changed his life, mine too, being here, being with you . . .’ Her voice caught, and she hurriedly wiped away a tear. ‘I love you so much, Joe.’

  ‘Bridie, it’s you who has made the difference. Everyone in the town admires and likes you and my family thinks I am the luckiest man alive. Me too.’ He touched her hand. ‘You’re right. The war will end, Ricardo will come home, Franco and Silvio will be released, and we can all get on with the business and enjoying life again.’

  ‘Yes,’ replied Bridie. ‘And it can’t come soon enough for me.’