1960 MUSCLED ATHLETE OF THE SEA PART I NOT ALL AT SEA

HMAS VOYAGER - IN HER HEYDAY

In an earlier post I mentioned that I was not balloted for National Service in the birth date lottery, and that, whilst standing on Berala Railway Station one morning , waiting for my train to the City, I decided that I should do some form of volunteer service instead. For me, that would have to be the Royal Australian Naval Reserve.

Other than my elder Brother's desire to join the Navy during the War( which as I have already recorded he was not allowed to do) the family had no record of Naval Service. But I had a fascination with the Navy and Naval History from a very early age. I can recall reading in 6th Class (Age 11 yrs) at Marist Brothers Lidcombe a book from the School Library called 

"The Cruise of the Vengeful"and being enthralled.( In an effort to find out more about it I have found that it is on Google Books, was written by Gordon Stables and is set in 1908 when the Royal Navy's latest warship is instrumental in frustrating a French and Russian plan to conquer England!! Classification - "Juvenile Fiction" well, I was 11 ! The Internet never ceases to amaze me. I remember the Dust jacket well!)

So, I enlisted in the R.A.N.R. which involved spending 2 weeks each year on a training cruise as well as attending weekly training parades at H.M.A.S. RUSHCUTTER ,a shore establishment on Rushcutter's Bay on Sydney's Southern Harbour shore in the Eastern Suburbs.

Given my employment in Banking, the Navy in its wisdom, elected to place me in the Supply  Division with the rating of Writer - something less than swashbuckling stuff! Rather than Bellbottom Trousers and a navy cap, we wore a Navy Suit and peaked Cap of the sort worn by Petty Officers and Officers, though with a suitably humble red embroidered Fouled Anchor rather than Silver or Gold.

The Officer in Charge of the Supply Division was Lieutenant Commander Bert Gamble R.A.N.R. He was a bespectacled gentleman  and apparently a businessman from the North Shore area.The routine for the Training Nights consisted in a Parade which involved forming up in Ranks and Files, some marching to and fro on the Parade Ground which was not huge.On occasions, some formal prayers were said and prior to this the Order would be given "Fall Out the Roman Catholics!". Neat! So two of the Officers and about 20 other ranks including yours truly would duly fall out and make ourselves inconspicuous until recalled - the time involved was so brief that no acceptable Catholic Prayer Session was arranged.

After the Parade was dismissed the various Divisions broke out into separate training sessions at various parts of the Base. Fairly early in the piece I was given the opportunity to join the Officer Training Squad along with 7 or so others. This went on for several years and a few were granted Commissions as Sub-Lieutenant ( U.S.N. equivalent : Ensign) and some were dropped. I was still waiting when my time with the R.A.N.R. came to an end at my request.

We were required to study the Admiralty Manual of Seamanship which is a treasure trove of useful and interesting information and the occasional bit of nonsense. An example of the latter is the prescription for bringing a Ship's whaler in to shore through the surf. As I remember it, it required the whaler to be turned about as it approached the surf, and the crew to row as if heading back out to sea whilst the surf carried them in! ( Lifesavers seem to have succeeded admirably without resort to this nonsense.) 

Each member of the Officer Training Squad was required to give a Lecture of about 30 Minutes to the assembled Officers on a given Training Night, on a subject worked out in conjunction with the the Officer in Charge of Officer Trainig, Lieutenant Commander Peder Pedersen. I chose the Battle for Leyte Gulf. This was the largest Naval Battle in the history of the World and I knew a good deal about it already, and had good access to Samuel Eliot Morrison's 35 (?)Volume History of Naval Warfare in World War II. The battle is not as well known as it deserves to be, and that was true even in the R.A.N. at that time . I think the reason was that there was no British involvement in it, so that it was almost as if it diddn't happen. The Lecture went quite well, but it was the first time I had done anything of the kind. As a result, I had prepared a detailed text which I intended to read from. Of course two or three minutes proved that it did not work. Fortunately, I knew the subject inside out and had a very good recollection of the text I had prepared and was able to sail on without it! The Battle is a marvellous fund of dramatic stories and with my enthusiasm for the subject it was not hard to keep it interesting. ( I must do a post on it one day.)

One of the other members of the squad more advanced than I, was one of the most admirable fellows I had ever known. His name was Max Breckenridge - not a common name - but by no means the only way he stood out in the group. He was intelligent, gentlemanly, modest in manner, handsome and athletic and could assume and project, the essential power of command with an ease and natural grace that identifies a born  leader.

Our annual two weeks Training Cruise provided a richly varied experience on successive years my training cruises were aboard :

SDB 1321 or Seaward Defence Motor Launch - a large  80 feet long diesel motor Launch which had done heroic service in WWII on special ops off New Guinea.

H.M.A.S. VOYAGER at speed.

H.M.A.S. VOYAGER (II) the Daring Class Destroyer which was to be later sunk by H.M.A.S. Melbourne the Aircraft Carrier
.
H.M.A.S. WAGGA the "Bathurst"Class WWII Minesweeper.

And H.M.A.S. Sydney (III) the Aicraft Carrier turned TroopTransport.

H.M.A.S. WAGGA was designated for service as the R.A.N.R. Training Ship. However she was rather "tired"when we inherited her and require many weekends of voluntary work to get her ready for sea. This involved much chipping and painting, but also cleaning the tubes of her boiler of the accumulated soot which surrounded them. This was vile work in the highly constrained innards of the boiler and those of us ignorant enough to have volunteered, spent the following week at the tiresome task of cleaning our sinuses of the fine black particles. A memorable experience!

SDB 1321

SDB 1321

My first Training Cruise was aboard SDB 1321. This was an 80 Feet long Diesel powered Launch which had seen prolonged and heroic service in WWII running special ops against the Japanese in the New Guinea region.

On the cruise we had  a very mixed crew including an English Lieutenant who was a constant source of (unintended) amusement to the crew in view of his ignorance about things Australian. Nowhere was this more in evidence than in pronunciation of place names. Our destination was Brisbane. We made our way up the New South Wales coast without significant problems. Though in the early afternoon we were witness to, and victim of , a magnificent sight. Coming over the Southern horizon was a ship, and not just any ship. It was one of the Australian Destroyers of the day I think, either ARUNTA OR WARRAMUNGA , and at speed. As she broke the horizon, her Signal Lamp flashed out "What Ship?"

There was a minute or so of sheer bedlam aboard as the Officer of the Watch called for our lone Signal Rating and we got back our identifying response. What a sight she made, with "a bone in her teeth"the bow wave forced up by her speed, and she rushed by off to the North East, leaving us to wallow along at a quarter of her speed. I am sure the Officers in the Destroyer had a good laugh knowing the panic they had caused us Reservists! Later that evening I had a spell at the helm . To my regret, I found that our trusty vessel's diesel exhausts to Port and Starboard were located just above the water line on either side of the wheelhouse.Any breeze on either beam, brought the sickly dense diesel exhaust straight through wheelhouse and immediately into the nostrils of the helmsman.I lasted about half an hour before succumbing to sea sickness and the need to be relieved at the wheel.

We reached Brisbane on a Saturday afternoon and cruised sedately up the Brisbane River as far as Saint Lucia, before coming about and returning to our berth at New Farm. I was favourably impressed by the city on this lovely August afternoon. But came the night and I was surprised at how cold it became. Sunday morning came and I headed off to Mass at St. Stephen's Cathedral, little guessing what a significant role it was to play in my later life.After Mass I bought a Newspaper from a young bloke selling papers outside the Cathedral and there, on that hallowed spot I heard the first words said to me by a Queenslander : "When are you leaving?". Some might have regarded this as less than encouraging! With another crew member, I walked up onto Spring Hill and back down to the City. 

The following day we left for Sydney, heading out through the seemingly interminable Moreton Bay. When the time came to turn South around the headland to run down the Coast, our trusty British Officer ordered everyone else off the foc'sle and secured all the mooring cables to his own satisfaction, getting thoroughly drenched for his trouble as the vessel headed into the swell coming up from the South.

As we headed down the New South Wales Coast that evening our British Lieutenant was examining the chart as we continually checked our progress. Some of the names caused him a little trouble, but one stumped him : "BULAH DELAH"( pronounced "BULLA DEELA")  - when he called it "" BOO -LAR - DEE- LAR" in his fruity tones,those of us on Watch nearly choked trying not to laugh.

The remainder of the Cruise was uneventful ,as was our return to Rushcutter's Bay and H.M.A.S.Rushcutter.

THE VERY BEST OF HANDS

SUNNY SYDNEY FROM THE AIR LOOKING
SOUTH TO BOTANY BAY

This is where I grew up, in the Western Suburbs off in the top Right Hand Corner of the above picture. But this story starts with that clear blue Aussie sky! And the relentless Sun which beams its UV Rays down on this big, bold and brassy town. I lived here from my birth in 1940 until 1982 when we moved to Brisbane after my appointment as Queensland Manager of the Banque Nationale de Paris ( formerly the Comptoir Nationale de' Escompte de Paris and now BNP Paribas).

Through all those years, I had been fairly careful to avoid sunburn apart from one or two occasional accidental incidents each decade or so. My German - Celtic - Anglo constitution left me with a complexion prone to sun damage. When I was about 6/7 yrs old, the local Doctor who later proved himself of no use whatsoever in relation to my poor Mum's health, had issued the warning that I was to be kept out of the Sun, wear a hat and cover my face and nose with white zinc ointment!

Now, if you know ANYTHING about young boys, they do not usually like to "stand out"by looking different. So the very thought of wearing the sticky muck of Zinc Ointment on my nose and cheeks, was anathema to me . If it was put on I wiped it off, and I would not volunteer to put it on. AND I have NEVER been a hat person!!! ( Though I own both a bash hat - for lawn -mowing : now History, and a Beret : French style awaiting a suitable occasion!). But, by and large I did , generally keep out of the Sun although...... Well, for many years I suffered no apparent ill effects from this life of daring!

Then,about a year after my wife and I were married, and after the birth of our first child - our "little ray of Sunshine"our daughter Marianne was born, a persistent tiny sore on the upper part of my nose near the left eye was diagnosed as a skin Cancer of the least dangerous kind - a B.C.C. Arrangements were made for it to be excised  and the Specialist Surgeon Dr. John Harvey Drew did a marvellous job under local anaesthetic at a Private Hospital at Eastwood where we then lived. Through the whole operation which involved a graft, executed with brilliant precision going just to the corner of the eye without pulling the lids or causing any distortion, was carried out while the doctor and I discussed the disaster that was the Whitlam Labor Government - fortunately we were both of the same opinion.

Well, the years went by and there were no more problems . The good times rolled - a second daughter, Justine was born in 1973. But in 1974 we lost a child through miscarriage - The disaster of that loss has been highlighted by how much better such losses are handled to-day. But 1975 restored our good fortune  and  our son Matthew was born. 

SUNNY BRISBANE - URBS BEATA

In 1982 we made the move to Brisbane in Queensland . Ah! Brisbane! Urbs Beata! The Blessed City 600 miles ( 1,000 Kms ) North of Sydney,in Sunny Queensland! "Beautiful one day! Perfect the next!" Life was good a lovely and loving wife, three wonderful children a fine corporate house and car and many other benefits and so many good and truly lasting friends. And the Sunshine!

After a few years I had on different occasions a number of spots removed, but none were actually cancerous.After 5/6 years we were transferred back to Sydney when I was promoted to Deputy and then Manager of the State of New South Wales . But the Bank was transforming itself into a pure Merchant Bank and I did not have that experience - I could see the writing on the wall . We had to spend about six months in Canberra sorting out a major problem there and seizing a multiple attraction opportunity back in Brisbane, I resigned.

I took up the position of Canonical Financial Administrator of the Archdiocese of Brisbane.We were back in the Sunshine State!

We were to be there on this occasion for 25 years before returning to Sydney last year.

I kept up a steady series of at least biennial visits to the Specialist who regularly checked me out for skin cancers. In 2008 he determined that a difficultly placed skin cancer on my right shin should be excised and grafted over , and at the same time he excised another on my nose (LH side) and covered by a "flap"- i.e. drawing the skin across it. The ankle operation was very delicate to ensure that the graft would take. It worked with a week's immobilisation which unfortunately resulted in DVTs which fragmented and caused the collapse of my right lung , which later came good with medication . It also resulted in months on Warfarin that pestilential medication that requires such close monitoring! But all came good and the nose operation also worked well.

The FIELD OF ACTION

We finally returned to Sydney in 2011 (ages 71 and 70yrs) to be closer to the majority of our family and oldest friends. Here I resumed consultations with doctors and a recurrence of the nose problem and another slowly developing area on my left temple led to the present phase of corrective surgery. 

At Royal North Shore Hospital 10 days ago a superb team of MOHS Surgery experts excised the left temple BCC ( as the Biopsy proved it to be) and under local anaesthetic ( involving needles in the temple - sounds like an Asian Novel!) did what they term a "flap". This involved a long incision down the side of my face immediately next the left ear ,down to the jaw and drawing the skin over the excision wound - all without distorting the noble visage! Neat! And the scar which will be very fine will tend to be less noticeable because of its location.

Part II - the Nose - is a different exercise - Biopsy showed mercifully that this was also a BCC, but - and we are talking fractions of millimetres here, it is rather deeper than can be covered by a graft. So.... in mid September its back to the ugly chocolate brick pile of Royal North Shore Hospital where my nose will become a two act show : Early A.M. Mohs surgery to excise the BCC, then straight away up to the Plastic Surgery Operating Theatre for another more ambitious and complex "flap". As the impressive, gentlemanly, and considerate young (35?)Surgeon explained it to me, this will involve a general anaesthetic and some borrowing of living skin from my forehead to temporarily place it on my nose for 3 weeks, then a return to put it back where it belongs !! Amazing stuff. Not convenient of course - my head will be heavily bandaged for the 3 weeks and less so for a further few weeks after the restoration . But I can handle that as long as I have the promised eye holes and I can get my headphones to my ears. During this period of "wrappedture"I hope to listen to the three volume Shelby Foote  history "The Civil War" and the Herman Wouk Novel "War and Remembrance"which has been recommended and given to me as an audiobook.

It would be helpful if I can move around readily - but that will depend on the quality of vision through the eye holes!! Wouldn't do to stumble!

My greatest regret is the burden it will place on my dear wife Robyn - living with a bandage headed old guy for around 5 weeks. But I recollect we went through something similar - though more brief- years ago with the roles reversed! 

So there you have it - the long term results of occasional unprotected exposure to the Sun!!  The real "white man's burden!"to use that vicious old British phrase! 

Happily for our grandchildren - as for our children before them - hats and Sunscreen are now just part of life. Yet when I was young, I remember reflecting that it was only silly older generations that wore hats - we were free of all that fashion! We do live and learn!

I hope to prepare a "Bank"of Posts I can put up during that period with the minimum of keystrokes!


The Surgeon assures me of the "best cosmetic result!"So,just like a Hollywood Star! Without the secluded Desert Retreat to hide away until presentable! As long as the result bears a reasonable likeness to my ordinary visage! Brings to mind the story of a painter who presented a portrait of Pope Leo XIII (POPE 1878 - 1903) to the Holy Father - it was awful! When the Holy Father later received one of the Cardinals whose attention was taken by the thing, Pope Leo quoted Our Lord : "Noli Timere, Ego Sum" ( Do not fear , it is I !)

*1962/63 "WOULD ROLL ON WET GRASS"' = H.M.A.S. WAGGA

H.M.A.S. WAGGA in 1943
the gun was removed for R.A.N.R. purposes.

As I mentioned in an earlier post, H.M.A.S. WAGGA was assigned to the Royal Australian Naval Reserve for training purposes.I have already recounted how we worked to make her properly ready for our use. 

60 of these 1,025 Tons Corvettes were built in Australia during World War II, 5 were lost during the War.They had a normal crew of 85 and they had a Maximum Speed of 15 Knots.It was said of them that they "would roll on wet grass".

After we had WAGGA ready for service,   plans were made for  her first two week Training Cruise   . This took us North to Brisbane and a little beyond. It proved largely uneventful, except that on the approach to Moreton Bay we saw the Whaling Fleet in action. This activity ceased in 1962 so that tends to date the Cruise to some extent. 

Aerial view of part of Moreton Bay

On a subsequent occasion we took WAGGA on a rather more memorable Cruise to Tasmania,more precisely to Launceston. Several factors made the Cruise memorable. First was the adverse weather on the way South. A gale blew up when we were well on our way, it was quite powerful and caused our dear old WAGGA to commence "pile driving", that is to say, her Bow was repeatedly coming out of the water at the crest of a wave and crashing back down , sending a shudder along the length of the keel.Our  hammocks were swinging wildly and numerous of us were being seasick. I had taken the precaution of taking Dramamine which someone had recommended, but I knew that if I stayed there the stench would make me ill So I rolled out of the hammock with difficulty and struggled against the motion of the Ship out onto the Main Deck then back up the ladder to my work station in the Ship's tiny Office  and slept - as best I could on the deck curled up tight in misery.At least there was no shortage of fresh air!!

Lt.Cdr. DENOVAN RANVR
The very model of a Ship's Captain

Next morning, the Storm had passed, the wind and sea  were abating, and our crew of mostly amateurs struggled to get themselves and the Ship "shipshape and Bristol fashion ". We had an outstanding example in our Captain Lieutenant Commander Denovan R.A.N.V.R. who was a Second World War veteran and ramrod straight as he came down the steep ladders facing forward - which was no easy feat even in Harbour, let alone when the old girl was corkscrewing her way through the aftermath of a gale! But there he was, clean shaven, Uniform and Cap impeccable! We all felt scruffy, and vile - a situation not helped when the desalination plant went on the blink while many were having their showers!

When we had brief breaks  to ourselves, groups of us would gather on the quarterdeck and stare out at the Ship's wake , which at her slow speed , would tend to look slightly wobbly at times. The main noise, apart from the wind would be the occasional whirrr of the steering engine as the course was adjusted.

WILSON'S PROMONTORY

We were told that during that nightmare passage we were the only ship on the Coast. Early in the morning we rounded Wilson's Promontory the Southernmost tip of Australia (EXCEPT FOR TASMANIA!!!) and it was quite impressive. Then we headed into Port Phillip Bay and up to Williamstown where we were to take on oil. This exercise went very well, including the arrival bit which involved bringing or little ship about and docking Starboard side to, in order to simplify our departure. That was the intention in any case.

When the fuelling was  completed, we were all still in our No1 Uniforms for manning the side as we had done coming in. I happened to have my position in the line on the Starboard side in the Waist. Now, when it comes to getting away from a berth at a wharf, a Ship firstly singles up all her lines, then lets go fore and aft until she is held by what is called a Spring - a line running diagonally from the wharf to the ship. The idea is that , depending on the current, if any,  steady turns on the propeller at low speed will bring the Ship's Bow away from the Wharf and an increase in speed will send her away from the Wharf altogether. That is the theory. Well, what actually happened was that Wagga came off the wharf, and the Spring was brought aboard, but,perhaps on account of tide or some chance of the current,she came to run parallel to the wharf about half a metre away from it! This was exceedingly dangerous and risked a collision with it. Suddenly the Officer of the deck barked the Order : "OK you lot onto the wharf and push her off!"

The effect on me at least, was as if he had ordered us to drag the Sun down to Earth! It sounded ridiculous! There was some hesitation on our part....but then one , two ,three and all ten of us were up over the side and onto the Wharf and running along beside the Ship and pushing her off the Wharf . To my utter surprise she began to move away from the Wharf and then came the next order "Ok Jump back aboard!"We did not hesitate, fearing to be left behind. I have no idea how we , more especially me, managed it.Because I have never excelled at matters athletic! My Guardian Angel deserves all the credit!

The picturesque City of Launceston,  nestled in the Tamar Valley

Here we were on our way to Launceston! The often troublesome Bass Strait lay before us, but on this occasion provided no great difficulty.

We sailed up the the Tamar River and moored at Launceston for our visit. Apart  from the pleasantness of the City of Launceston, two things stay firmly in my memory,I shall mention the more formal first, in order to let you finish the paragraph with a smile. We had to attend a memorial service at at a War Memorial in a Park. Was it Anzac Day? Armistice Day? I don't recall. What I do recall is that we all sang the Navy Hymn : "Eternal Father strong to save, Whose arm doth bind the restless wave...."it is always moving...at least I find it so. But never so much as on this occasion  and particularly the lines:
 "O Holy Spirit Who didst brood ,
upon the waters dark and rude, 
Who badst its angry tumult cease 
and gave for wild confusion , Peace..
Oh Hear us when we cry to Thee 
for those in peril on the sea!"  

After our voyage down I understood what the Hymn so well recognises.

The following day some of us had invitations to lunch with Launceston families. I was the guest of Mr & Mrs Eastaugh and their children and very kind and generous hosts they were, their hospitality was splendid. However in the course of making conversation, I managed the ultimate faux pas in Tasmania and, at least in my view, I did not succeed in redeeming the situation. 

In the course of furthering a comment on some subject, while making a response to something that had been said, I came out with "Oh well, back in Australia...the air froze......"I instantly realised what I had said. That made it worse. The desperate search for a formula of words to get me out of the hole my mouth had dug. The failure to find it. Their kind attempt to cover the hurt...It still causes me pain. I would gladly meet them again if I thought I could recover the situation. But Alas! What can you say to people whose home State is occasionally left off the map! 

Really after all that , the voyage home was quite routine .It had been in several respects memorable, but I did not mind coming home. 

That was my last Cruise aboard WAGGA, though not the last time I boarded her for various routine work sessions.