Barnacle Bills & Cairns Game Fishing Club

Barnacle Bills & Cairns Game Fishing Club

Far North Queensland, or as the locals call it FNQ, starts as you crest the Cardwell Range when your driving up from Townsville, to Cairns on the Bruce Highway. It spreads out before you like a big green blanket, made more dramatic because, the countryside before has been brown uninteresting Australian bush.It is one on of the few spots on the east coast where the Great Dividing range goes out to sea and meets with Mount Bowen on Hinchinbrook Island.

You can see the ocean, the reef, the tablelands, the rain forest, elements that make up Cairns and Far North Queensland (FNQ). Mix in big game fishing, a tropical climate of monsoons, cyclones, floods and electrical storms that make Sydney's New Years Fireworks look like a 'double bunger'. Include the characters and personalities that this 'neck of the woods' attract and you have  an intoxicating mix of geography and human activity that make for a sexy, exciting place for Australia to have as a front door.

Cairns resonated with me, it was still raw,it had that "Go north young man" appeal of adventure about it. The smell of salt in the air, the balmy weather, especially the evenings, even during the wet season with the constant deluge on corrugated iron roofs, though if it went to long, they say it can send you" bonkers"!!. 

The city was in an evolving stage mostly low rise buildings,Hydes Hotel was the tallest - about three levels. The central part was a grid of about ten blocks bounded by the Esplanade and  Cairns Inlet. Architecturally, the only stand out was, verandahs over footpaths, latticework and after a five minute stroll into the suburbs and the ubiquitous Queenslander everywhere. In a basin surrounded by verdant rainforest hills, Cairns sat at the bottom of Trinity Bay on an inlet that narrowed further upstream into mangroves. Where now, there would be crocodiles, not when I was there, as they had all been shot out - for shoes and handbags, then again the mangroves might not be there, as they probably have been developed for resort hotels or marine purposes.

The Cairns Game Fishing Club was just completed when we arrived, it was built next to "Tawny's", the other seafood restaurant in town besides "Barnacle Bills".The "Game Club" as it was known, was at the mouth of the inlet next to the Marlin Wharf. Here the game boats moored and  did the weigh- in for large catches, as did the tourists boats taking people out to the reef and Green Island. At this time, early eighties, Lee Marvin was one of the Hollywood types who would come into Cairns, hiring the  game boat "Sea Venture" and skipper Dennis Wallace aka "Brizzaka"(supposedly Aboriginal for wild man- the description was right, not sure about the other).The Club was not for the Hoi Polloi, the Prez (as he was called ) - Jock Izzat ,  managed it with a firm hand as I will explain:

 After I had been there for about eight months a friend of mine from Sydney arrived in Cairns called John Ormonde. He  with another Sydney guy, who had been there for a long time  Laidley Mort, decided to have a drink one afternoon at the "Game Club." Neither were members, and both were wearing sarongs, they decided to have a binge on Bundie and Coke and stirr the place up, winding up some of the club members, probably about the colour of their necks, nearly getting into a punch up, so they decided to bail and went to the Marlin Bar another infamous watering hole.

 The next day I was called over by the "Prez," "it's about your mate John Ormonde, he's not a member, so unless he's signed in by you, he is not able to enter the premises, we can lose our license if people walk in off the street like he 's done, he's brought in another guy who's also not a member, but is also barred for life, they both got pissed and insulted some of the members and caused all sorts of trouble, besides all that, they were wearing skirts,which was against dress codes,!!! - see it does not happen again".

John never became a member, he asked if he could stay on my sofa when I was living at Holloways Beach for a couple of nights and six months later he was still there.

When I first took over "Barnacle BIlls", in fact the first night I was thrown into the deep end. They were two staff down, one short in the kitchen, one short on the floor. I had been there since three In the afternoon and asked to help out in cold larder, learning the make up of the cold entrees and doing the 'mise en place'. 

At about 7pm Kate who was the hostess has appeared in the Kitchen and yelled out "Tony how long has it been since you served wine at tables" and with that I've been given a table of ten, and the dishwasher has replaced me in the cold larder.The table I was to look after were a film production crew from Sydney, in Cairns filming a commercial, they were a mix of blokes and chicks and in a boisterous 'wrap up mood'. 

Having been in the kitchen I was not aware of how out of control  the restaurant was. People are everywhere, it was over booked, people overflowing from the bar into the entrance to the kitchen making it an obstacle course for staff coming to and fro. Customers waiting on the footpath, others told to wait over on the Esplanade on park benches - bedlam at  7pm!!   the restaurant could seat 80, there was another 80 waiting to be seated. My mind was not on serving a table of ten wine, it was on, how disorganised the front was and what had I got myself into.

I handed them the wine lists, then with their order went to the bar, to be told the four wines they had ordered, three we were out of stock.Back to the table, I explain what we had in stock, so I get another wine order, when I go back to the bar, I'm told another wine they have  ordered has just been sold out. Back I go again, reorder and eventually I get the order right. Back  to the table with four different wines to pour amongst ten people trying to remember who is having what, is a task in itself. I'm proceeding to pour the wine and trying to remember who is having what when I get the the shakes.

 So,I am trying to pour wine for a table of ten,I 've got the shakes and when I see the bedlam  I have the total shits, then my mind starts to think why am I here, do I really want to be running another restaurant, so my shakes get worse and I lose focus, when you have the shakes it is very difficult to control, as the wine not only goes into the glass but everywhere else, which it does. I  had only poured for two or three and the shaking was more obvious and what made it worse was the whole table became aware of it, and started to nudge each other - which embarrassed me further, making it more difficult to focus on the task at hand,as all i wanted was out, how I finished pouring every ones wine was a small miracle. I told them that because we were so busy they would have to pour the wine themselves. I scuttled back to the kitchen like a beaten dog and handed over to an already overworked young wine waiter who was still in his last year at High School. So much for leading from the front and baptism of fire.


I got into a routine each evening,this consisted of writing up the "Specials Board" there was always freshly caught  reef fish, straight from the wharf- Maori Wrasse, Coral Trout, Red Emperor, all great eating reef fish.Either baked whole or in filets panfried in a lemon butter sauce. Next was  setting up the bar and tables. Checking that staff were coming who were rostered on, as they were all casual and in a laid backed environment, the reliability of some was suspect.Also the stock was received for the day and fridges stocked with beer, wines, which was done by the cleaner early in the morning. Meeting with the chef and checking that all was on the menu,  float in the till. How many bookings  for the night and allocating them tables. Taking bookings, as the phone was constantly going off in the early evenings. The restaurant did not fill up till seven. 

Often, I would wander across the park to the "Game Club" for a couple of drinks, there was always someone to meet and have a chat, and I would return about seven to help with evening trade at Barnacles. We tried lunch for a few months, but there was insufficient business so knocked that on the head and concentrated on  trading seven nights per week.

The first couple of weeks it took to get the feeling for how it was managed.  I knew most of the staff as I used to go there before becoming one of the owners.I got better after the first night, but not much. Angela and I split up after six months, I fell for a young Canadian lady, Janice Belsher,  who started working for me at the restaurant. Angela went back to Sydney and Janice and I moved into a beach house at Hollaways Beach.This did not endear me to a lot of people who we had become friends with.  Angela was well liked and the way we split was harsh on her, and not pleasant for which I have tried to make amends. I introduced her, to her now husband, Roger Scales who owned a backpackers lodge in Bingil Bay, south of Cairns.

Janice and I used to enjoy hiking and going for runs in the trails through the rainforest behind Cairns in a place  called EdgeHill. On one of these hikes we saw some movement in the bush and as the trail swung closer to the where the movement was, we confronted a Cassowary which started to run at us. I told Janice to sprint along the track and I took off in the opposite direction and found myself off the track, and being torn to shreds trying to run away. Though not for long, as you cannot go far or fast, in the North Queensland Rainforest because of a vine called "wait a while".It has these thorns that face backwards and dig into your skin or clothes and prevent you going anywhere untill you stop and release them.Thank Christ the Cassowary stopped chasing, as they can kill a person , one kick from the three pronged clawed foot propelled at you, is like a spear thrust, and in the right place can send you heavenwards.They can run through the rainforest unimpeded, the thorns on the "wait- a- while" must act like a comb on their large black feathered body.Fascinating bird, they have this large horned protrubance on the top of their skull,called a "casque" like a big growth, spoils their looks, they are descended from dinossaurs, their big fuckers about six feet high to the top of their head ,flightless they have no trouble running through the Jungle and fast, they can get up to speeds of thirty mph. Apparently we must have been near where it had some chicks as they don't normally become aggressive. I have seen them at Mission Beach walking, through the back yards of houses and seen people feeding them fruit which is their main diet.

As much as the Barrier Reef is one of natures marvels, it is not something that you can become engaged with, or for that matter the ocean. Newcomers after going out to the reef and Islands a few times as guests on someones boat, often decide to buy a boat.Then after a few trips out to the reef realise how far it is off the coast and the cost in fuel which runs into hundreds of dollars. So what happens? the boats end up on the trailers, just sitting in the driveway of their newly purchased Queenslander which their going to tart up. 

Janice and I rented a beach cottage at Holloways Beach, literally on the beach. We stepped out of the back door of the house, onto a stone flagged terrace which was four meters wide and then it was the sand for about another thirty meters and the Ocean.The problem was during the summer you can not swim in it because of the Box Jelly Fish. We had a swimming pool, but it's not the same, I missed the surf.These day with the "Salties" I don't think anyone in their right minds would go in the water winter or summer, their breeding so fast laying up to fifty eggs a time.

Interesting theory about the box jelly fish proliferation, is that as with most things,  caused by man. Who shot the dingoes ? which are the natural predators of the wild pigs, the wild pigs are feral, all over Cape York  and dig up the eggs of the turtles, hence less turtles, which are the natural predators of the Box Jelly Fish.I have seen the sting off one, their vicious looking, as if the person had been whipped by "cat of nine tails" or burned with branding iron, nasty raised red fleshy welts, that are dimpled, the pain is excruciating, kills children or adults who have weak constitutions.

Tennis,Cairns & Tuna Towers

Tennis, Cairns & Tuna Towers

One of the perks I liked about our home at Lane Cove was I had my own quarters downstairs which consisted of two rooms, a bedroom and bathroom / laundry  where I could come and go asI liked and i would not be waking parents up when coming home in the wee hours. Now that my parents had moved to a unit in Lindfield this was more restrictive so i started to play couch camper , staying on other friends couches when going home was to inconvenient.

Meeting up with old faces and new was easy at Christmas time, as in Sydney there was plenty happening with parties and get-togethers down the Peninsular at Palm Beach and Whale Beach, where I had lived during the days of the "Grape".Catching up, with what friends were doing and seeing who were kicking goals stimulated the brain, to find new endeavours and to look to the future in trying to get something off the ground. 

 An opportunity was forthcoming, through a lawyer friend - Peter Kemp who informed and introduced me to London property group MEPC. They owned a few hectares of vacant land,  on the harbour foreshores at Berry's Bay, where they had been trying to get development approval to build luxury home units - to no avail. MEPC gave me an option of six months on the site and I came up with idea of developing the site into a "Racquet Club" similar to what I had seen in Puerto Rico and California, such as the Le Costa Club in LA.

I approached Don Wyllie an architect who was a local,  and used to be an associate of Peter Muller who designed the Kayu Aya in Bali. He produced  some drawings of the site where we were able to plan for seven tennis courts on the foreshore, there was a disused glass factory on the cliff overlooking the proposed tennis courts which we intended to recycle into the clubhouse.

 Carol Baker was the Lord Mayor of North Sydney Council and offered some advice about lobbying local residents, and our approach to North Sydney Council. After Don had completed some mud maps I organised some evening appointments with some local residents, taking drawings and spreading them out on their kitchen tables, we presented our intentions. The site was bounded by a railway line on the western side and the harbour on the eastern side, above the railway line on a ridge there were several residences that overlooked the site and these were earmarked with visits. They had formed themselves into a 'resident action committee' to fight the MEPC proposal that would have blocked their views and harbour access. Ours did nothing of the sort and was passive,no one at the time objected to what we proposed. 

 It was then decided before submitting a development application we should organise a resident site meeting with the 'residents action committee' that had been formed,to outline the proposed plans. Also to get some publicity, like - editorial in the North Shore Times. I decided to try and get John Newcombe one of Australia's tennis greats involved and phoned his Sydney office and explained what was my intention and they agreed I could use his name. I contacted the editor of the North Shore Times and the next week on the front page of  were the Headlines, followed by a ten paragragh article and informing of the site meeting to be held :

                              PLANS FOR MAJOR SPORTS CENTRE
                             FITNESS, FOOD & TENNIS WITH NEWC.

The following Saturday there was a big turnout of residents with kids and pets,Carol Baker was there and Don and I with drawings. Don chaired the meeting and outlining the intention of the "Colonial Tennis Gardens", which was my name for the complex.That included seven tennis courts, 25meter swimming pool, gymnasium, health spa and saunas, jogging track, child care centre, on- site parking for 120 cars, restaurant and discotheque.

I explained no detailed feasibility study had been done re costings until we gauged what the residents reaction to this proposed passive development would be.Some residents objected that it would not be passive with the traffic generated by the amenities. Including a discotheque was not a bright idea either. 

Carol Baker proposed that a show of hands would determine: if we were to proceed or not, and with that, she asked for those in favour to raise their hands ... very few raised their hands, then she asked for a show of hands for those against.... most of them were raised. With that it was decided to approach NSC to turn it into a park - which it now is... and I went over to the "Four and Hand" Pub in Paddington and got pissed.

Whilst there at the "Four in Hand" I ran into a guy I used to see in London - David Barclay who was considerably older than I and who also had travelled extensively. We got talking and he asked 'what was I going to do now besides getting drunk' and I said 'I did not have a plan'. He then asked 'did I have much money left after my last endeavour', I said 'a couple of grand'. He then suggested, that I should take my new girlfriend and myself up to Cairns  from where he had recently returned. Cairns  was starting to take off as a tourist hub, he thought the two of us would get something going up there.

I had hooked up with a lady called Angela Cameron- MacKay, who was born in Kenya and was the head receptionist at the Sebel Town House at Potts Point. I approached her with this idea which she liked, after a send off party by her room mates at their Double Bay apartment  two weeks later we arrived in Cairns -- with a couple of suitcases each, a couple of addresses, and a couple of grand.

Angela soon cracked a job working in reception at  " Tuna Lodge" one of two high profile hotels in Cairns at that time and owned by Peter Miller, the other was "Trade Winds" owned by the Kamsler Family .Angela was  naturally stylish along with a beautiful smile and that sensational colonial English accent that commands you to listen, she loved to hear and tell jokes and she got on well with people.

Peter Miller was at that time building Cairns first Boutique Hotel "Tuna Towers" a six level building of 75 rooms and suites, on the Esplanade about three blocks from the CBD with a medical centre attached on the other side of the hotel, in partnership with Cairns's Radiologist, Bill Gale.

We became friends quickly with these families.Bill Gale came originally from Sydney and went to Knox and Sydney Uni where he did medicine,he was married to Anne with whom they had three children. Bill was well travelled, cultured, loved his red wines of which we drank copious quantities from his fine cellar in his farm  house at Kuranda. Bill had an engaging personality and endearing stutter, a good looking bloke who was well respected in Far North Queensland.

I often went with him on week ends to " Fairy Farm", his hobby  farm on the Barron River in Kuranda. Kuranda reminded me of of one of the hill stations in the Himalayas, the climate was cooler than Cairns, being on the edge of the Tablelands. It was very alternate, and had attracted  many artists and crafts people with a good splash of indigenous as the Bangara Dance Group had just started. The railway station was a gem of Victorian Architecture in steel and over  the years had cultivated one of the best tropical gardens of ferns and palms which people came to visit for a sticky beak.

Bill had fallen for the area and bought ten years ago, so his place was well established and most weekends saw him drive up there from Cairns. Over the years he planted an eclectic assortment of exotic fruit trees that he had propagated from seeds ; Mammy Sapotas, Florida Star Apples, Durians together with a range of Avocado's and  West Indian Limes, collectively an orchard of several hundred trees. We would spend the day on his ride on mower,  mowing the grass between the trees, slashing underneath near the root system with a whipper snipper and pruning  branches, this would take a weekend, and last a couple of weeks before it had to be done again.The orchard would look like a manicured park by the time we had finished.  We would then adjourn to the farmhouse which was built in the rainforest and hook into his extensive  cellar of Australian and French red and white wines and cook ourselves a a mini grand bouuef. Amazingly you never suffered from a hangover, as the rainforest generates so much oxygen and as we were surrounded by one of the largest in Far North Queensland, we woke up refreshed and ready to go again!!

 Peter was a fisherman from South Australia who came to Cairns about five years ago and opened 'Tuna Lodge'- hence the sobriquet "Tuna" for his property. which had about sixty rooms.Peter saw the potential for further accommodation needs and they decide to join up as Bill owned the land and they both joint ventured "Tuna Towers".Peter was the ultimate host always at the bar in the evenings welcoming guests and locals, tall and fair in complexion, an A grade tennis player, he looked a bit like Rod Laver.Pete was married to Leslie and had a son Darren who was just leaving school.

Both great blokes, in their mid fifties, really into what was going on,  not only in Cairns, but Far North Queensland.Through them both we were introduced to their wide circle of friends and over a period of time they both involved me with their plans for Tuna Towers. Until eventually there were some designated tasks, through my influencing I became the designated interior designer for the  project. My main responsibility was to design  the rooms and suites,restaurant and public spaces with the architect and to source all the furniture, fittings, equipment, art and artefact's.

We decided on colour schemes, which pissed of the project manager/ builder, Watkins - I suggested pastels through the rooms - pinks, pale yellows,turquoise. The project manager, at one of the monthly meetings, got the shits!! with me, when I presented the colour scheme for the complex.This was to enable the paint contract to go out to tender and  he commented- "their all poofter colours" I asked what do you want "all cream or beige" - of course!! every one else backed me, so we got our pastels.

We were the first hotel in Cairns to commission local artists, potters,iron workers  for different pieces throughout the property.Local artists painted scenes; from the reef and rain forest,  images of the local fauna and flora in different mediums: gouache, oils,watercolours and charcoal, that were hung in the rooms and corridors. In the restaurant Steve Stapleton who was a sculptor made a beautiful wrought iron screen about fifteen foot long and seven foot high that separated the bar from the entrance as you walked into restaurant. Ray Harrison made  fifteen large ceramic pots, a metre and half tall, which he painted in his own inimitable  style, then glazed - these we placed through the lobby, restaurant and gardens.

 A group from the Atherton Tablelands,  in Kairai, called the Gadencliff Group,comprised of a bunch of blokes, their wives and girlfriends, who collectively started several joint endeavours such as : joinery shop,pottery and acupuncture clinic,were retained to build some of the architectural features for the complex.  They all were in their mid twenties and thirties and had different disciplines, two of the youngest Leo Von Gemmett and Ross Penman were studying acupuncture and similarly learning stone masonry and boat building, others were painters, healers, potters, each teaching and learning from each other.

 They  were retained  to build the licensed bar, as one of them -  Gerry McKee a Californian Surfer, was a boat builder and surfboard shaper and experienced with fibre glass.
The bar we designed was oval shaped, half indoor and half outdoor,that could seat about thirty or so around it with further standing space. Constructed from "sea ply"and  fibre glassed to withstand the tropical weather of constant heavy rain over a sustained period, the three of them built the carcass in their workshop in the Tablelands, transported it to Cairns and installed it by crane. 

I  loved visiting the guys, to see how how the different projects were  progressing. The Tablelands was such a beautiful place - Lake Barine, Kuranda, the Barron Falls, parts of it reminded me of Africa and other parts - the rolling hills similar to Devon and Cornwell. Often I would stay the night at the  Yungaburra Hotel which was like a time warp, run by two old ladies and staffed by their eccentric friends - breakfast there reminded me of boarding school, with servings of porridge, corn fllakes and boiled eggs with white toast.

There was an enormous inventory to assemble in the fit out of the interiors; bedding, lights, soft furnishings, fabric selections for drapes and upholstering,the suites all had small kitchens, out door furniture, commercial kitchen equipment,plus the fit out for a  hundred seat restaurant. There was quoting, tendering and price comparisons,  sourcing of suppliers, obtaining samples and renderings all to be compiled and presented at the monthly meetings. 
Then the ordering, payment and delivery to be synchronised for install with the construction time lines and the grand opening.Eventually  I managed to pull it altogether over a seven month period sourcing  locally or in Brisbane and Sydney. 

With great local fanfare "Tuna Towers" opened in November 1980, it was Cairns first high rise hotel, all of six levels.At the time it was the biggest  in Cairns and was an instant hit with locals and tourists, the restaurant and bar quickly established themselves as  popular hang outs and did not take long to develop a steady patronage.

The money I made from that, about $30k, I invested in buying a third share in one of the most popular restaurant in Cairns - "Barnacle Bills" which was in the CBD on the Esplanade across from the waterfront. Originally called "The Tropicana" it had had several owners, mostly Melbourne blokes, of which there were plenty of in Cairns at that time, and one of them changed the name to" Barnacle Bills" and  served local seafood of which there was a wide choice, fresh and available daily.
The building was a free standing, weathered clap board two level building, with concertinaed aluminium sliding glass doors that opened up and fronted onto the footpath. Sitting seventy, with a bar down the back and kitchen behind it was a great casual dining spot frequented by locals and tourists.Bill and I bought  the business with another local John Dowson.

Back Home in Sydney

Back Home in Sydney and Mum and Dad

Coming home sometimes can be an anti climax, other times it can be so exciting,seeing family and friends who are the ones that you share your experiences with and are the ones who judge the changes that have taken place in you. This time was a bit of both,my parents have always been supportive of my travels and I have regularly (from my point of view) written to them and updated them on what transition I was going through and back grounding them on where I was and how I had got there.They were always my first contact, normally meeting me at the wharves, when I returned in '69 after five years away - this time in '79, ten years later, at the airport.

I had been away for over twelve months and a lot had gone down in that time and several friends had been to see Mum and Dad, mainly from Bali.So they were aware that I had had a motor bike accident and written myself off. They never belaboured any act that I did, they just hoped that I would be ok and that life would be kind to me and that I would be kind to myself.

They were always interested in my plans and dreams, rarely commenting in a advisatorial manner or dictatorial fashion, just listening and encouraging.Their experiences were not of the entrepreneurial ilk that I gravitated towards. Dad was English as were his parents, ex farming and army, who were early pioneers of Patagonia and Tierra del Fuego, Argentina.

Dad was only in Australia for eight months, before joining up and serving with the 2/5th Field Regiment in WW2 in the Middle East in action in Egypt and Syria and then Borneo and New Guinea for six combat years. His expertise was 'social service' and when he retired from a senior government position he became a honoury director for 27 years with Access Industries that set up workshops for the handicapped.

Pat and Ken, as they were known to their friends,met outside the State Theatre during '39, where Mum worked as an usherette. After Dad had joined up, after being inspired by Churchill" to do the right thing".They both spotted each other, Dad was walking past and Mum was at the entrance, in Market Street - welcoming customers into the State Theatre. Dad after walking back and forth a couple of times, got up the courage to ask her out and to his surprise, she said "yes". Mum said that she liked his voice, -- no wonder he went to one of the best schools in England, Palmers School.They married within three months of meeting each other and then Dad was off to fight the enemy and nine months later in November '41, I popped into the picture.

After Dad and Mum married, Dad was posted with the the rest of the 2/5th Field Regiment to the Middle East and Mum pregnant with me moved in with her sister, Laureen and her husband Rowley Dowling into their house in 76 Banks Street, North Sydney where I was born.We lived with them in a three bedroom terrace, and their two sons Barry and Rowley jr  for five years.

In the Middle East, Dad was to have met with his brother Dennis in Cairo.Dennis was eighteen months younger than Dad and from all accounts they were as "thick as thieves'. He had joined the British 8th Army as an officer in Montgomery's Tank Corp.But they never met up, as Uncle Den was killed in action fighting Rommel's Afrika Korps in the desert.I can only wonder at the sadness Dad must have suffered at the loss of his brother being so close and yet so far, I never had the opportunity to discuss this with Dad - how he felt, the despair of it all, in fact their were so many life and death situations that Dad must have experienced and I never got round to talking about,the diggers were like that - they kept it to them selves.Dad did mention that he was offered officer training and on talking to some of the wiser heads in his regiment he declined, as now a father, young officers lives in active combat were short lived and Dad said one of his his main prerogatives was to stay a- live and re join his family.

When Dad returned it was not for long, as his regiment was stationed in Atherton in Far North Queensland for jungle training in preparation for fighting the Japanese in New Guinea and Borneo.

 Mum became a camp  follower as did I and a lot of the wives, staying in billets their husbands arranged for them in towns like Ingham and Innisfail and seeing their husbands on the weekends where going to the movies was about the only activity available. I remember, I must have been about three, being hoisted on the back of one of Dad's mates shoulders and being piggy backed, whilst we walked it seemed for miles into one of the towns and given a watch to play with to keep myself occupied on those shoulders during the walk.That's my only memory, Mum had many, oh how they must have loved each and the heart break they must have suffered when saying good bye the second time round. To see these great young blokes, all in their prime of life, having to go and off to fight the Japs, never knowing if they would see each other  again. They were young, Dad would have been 22 and Mum 23. Knowing as they would that, what was ahead was more killing, fighting, being wounded.Then  coming to terms with  fighting and living  in the swamps, mangroves and jungles of these tropical hell holes ... how brave they were.Then when they returned home, they all were suffering from Malaria, dysentery, berri- berri and every other tropical disease which some never really recovered from.

It must have been so hard for Dad to readjust with a family and living in close quarters with another family of four, as they did in the front bedroom with me in a cot. I know Dad tried for a soldiers settlers grant, as the reason he came to Australia was to experience, living on the land, that he did when he as interned to a farm in Macksvile, before he joined up.His application was to no avail so he enrolled and went to Sydney Uni trying to do a degree in Economics at night, but threw that in after twelve months. He joined the Public Service soon after returning as he needed a job and ended up staying there becoming a Director of Social Services in his retirement. Mum went out and worked most of the time and the two of them saved hard and bought a block of land in 41 Richardson Street Lane Cove where they built their own house. 

Most weekends we would spend on the block of land, Dad digging trenches for the foundations and Mum helping where she could.When I was six I was sent to Newington College and started in first class at Wyvern House, the prep school. Dad would have been happy for me to go to a local school but Mum was a lot more aspirational than Dad and she wanted me to have a private school education like him.. God bless her.

Mum came from a big family of three sisters and three brothers and were brought up by their mother, Pearl.Mum's father was an itinerate and seemed to be the black sheep in the family and was not discussed I vaguely remember seeing him, though rarely. he was like a shadow , there for a moment and then gone. They came originally from Eden in the South Coast of NSW and settled in Balmain. They were of Irish stock Mum's maiden name was Day and Pearl's was Newlands.

So it was to our house in Lane Cove where I came back to, but not for long as they had sold it and bought a home unit in Lindfield