Ten Pound Poms

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Ten Pound Poms

by Mike Williamson

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On a bitterly cold morning in January of 1955, my family set out on the adventure which was to determine the direction of all our lives for many generations to follow and without doubt was to set the course of my future at sea.

We were a family of five – my Mum and my Dad, my 13 year old sister, five year old brother and me. We were “ten pound Poms” on our way to Australia on the P&O Liner, “SS Strathaird”. What an adventure for a nine year old boy!
Having sold the family house in late 1954 we started the year living in rented accommodation in Mapperley in Nottingham before embarking from Tilbury on that day in January.

The trip took about five weeks. I remember the Suez and the bum boats coming alongside at Port Said, selling all kinds of souvenirs and collectables. My mum bought a couple of wooden plates inlaid with shells. I remember her telling me years later that the first words the local vicar said when he came to introduce himself were what nice collection plates they would make.
There isn’t a lot that a nine year old can remember of such a trip – but the memories of a long exciting sea voyage must have left an exciting impression, because I’m sure it was why I went to sea as a ship’s engineer a little over ten years later.

The Strathaird completed her maiden voyage in 1932. With a length of 200 metres and a 24 metre beam, she weighed just over 22,500 tons gross and cruised at 20 knots. She carried a crew of 480 and 1,242 single class passengers. During the Second World War she saw service as a troop ship, after which during her refit, two of her original three funnels were removed. Along with her sister ships, Stratheden, Strathmore and Strathnaver these wonderful ships must have delivered a hundred thousand or more fresh faced new immigrants to Australia during the fifties and the early 60s. She was eventually retired from service in 1961 and sold to a Hong Kong breakers yard shortly after.

The first place we stepped ashore on foreign soil was the port of Aden, now part of Yemen, but at that time a colony of the British Empire at the eastern approaches to the Red Sea. After that it was on to Colombo in Sri Lanka. Of course it was called Ceylon then. It was amazing. There were beggars on every street, in every doorway, and by every road. Vendors thrusting their wares in our faces and following us as we were hustled along the busy thoroughfares. The throng of humanity after the relative calm of shipboard life was overwhelming. Yet the most exciting thing which I remember to this day was the thrill of being in Aden and Ceylon and being able to buy postage stamps from those countries to add to my schoolboy collection. Vendors were everywhere and I’m sure I would have pestered the daylights out of my parents to let me spend some money.

After Ceylon the ship made the long trip across the Indian Ocean to Fremantle. We had some terrible monsoon weather and one night a passenger fell overboard after too much partying. Although the ship turned several circles he was never found. What a terrible way to go.

Shipboard life for the kids was wonderful. I’m sure it was for the adults as well, but I particularly recall sharing a dining table with several other migrant kids and our steward, a Londoner who told us to call him Seb who used to say to us, “what you don’t want, don’t eat.” This was heaven – no one telling us to eat our vegetables. We were even brought tea in bed at breakfast time. We did have to attend school lessons of a sort, but it wasn’t difficult or like real school. We were taught songs about kookaburras in gum trees, and were shown pictures of kangaroos and told something about the history of this great country we were about to call our new home.

We disembarked in Sydney in February 1955 and shortly after were on a long train journey to Brisbane. Along with all the other Queensland bound settlers, we were first accommodated at the Yungaba Immigration Centre where we stayed for several weeks. Yungaba was the first port of call for many thousands of the migrants who came to Queensland. Built in 1887 by the Queensland Government expressly for that purpose, it is situated right on the tip of the Kangaroo Point peninsula and with three-sided river views, it was a marvellous location for such an establishment.
Although Yungaba was a government-run institution, there was always an obvious concern for the comfort and welfare of its residents; not just for compassionate reasons, but also because of the competition that existed between the states as they each attempted to attract migrants who could boost their labour force. Extensions and improvements to the centre were added to present a favourable atmosphere to incoming migrants. This included playground equipment for the kids and a supply of multi-colour check blankets instead of the usual institutional grey. I think my parents were quite happy to be placed there even after the relative luxury of shipboard life.

My father had already organised his place of employment before we left Britain, and shortly after we arrived in Brisbane, Dad flew up North Queensland where he was due to start work as a motor mechanic at a small garage in the town of Mossman. We had no idea where that was but we were soon to find out! Dad’s job was to prepare the ground for us. To make sure we had a decent home to live in and to get settled into his new job. Mum was to follow on by train with the rest of us a week or two later.

What a trip that was. I have often thought about what a harrowing experience it was for my 38 year old mother, literally fresh off the boat, having left a fairly comfortable (if cold) life in England boarding a train with three children to travel 1000 miles north to “God knows where”.
Air-conditioned Sunlander trains were still a few years in the future, as we headed north on a rattling old train straight into the North Queensland wet season. Even today, conventional rail travel in Queensland can be a slow experience with a lot of stops and starts as bogeys rattle along in narrow gauge 3 feet 6 inch tracks, although Queensland’s new Tilt Train is now the fastest train in the world using a narrow gauge track. However, nothing was further away than the old rattler which took us about a week to get us to Cairns. Stopping at sidings and stations for long hours, it was a slow, uncomfortable trip with Mum doing her best to look after and feed three kids. And there were no sleeper cars; this was a journey where we were sitting up all the way. Every time the train stopped at a station, passengers and locals would make their way to the railway bar, or if there was no bar on the platform, to the local pub where they would buy and consume more and more booze for the long trip. What an ordeal it must have been.

When we came to the Burdekin River which separated the towns of Home Hill on the south and Ayr on the north, the train was unable to cross the bridge which was several feet under water. We were forced to leave the train and were ferried across the mile wide river in little flat-bottom boats, with water almost lapping the gunwales as we made our way to the other shore. There we were crammed into another even older train for the remaining 300 miles or so of the journey north.
When we eventually arrived in Cairns, Dad was waiting for us and we still had another 50 miles to travel, north along the Cook Highway to our new home. We were piled into an old International truck stopping every few miles along the way to ford another flooded creek or causeway. We eventually made it Mossman and our new home.

Mossman was a cane town – it still is. Its sugar mill was not far from the middle of town and the little cane trains with their cargo of freshly cut cane would travel down the centre of Mill Street through the town several times a day, holding up what little traffic there was. The town had five pubs and a little picture theatre in a corrugated iron building with deck chairs for seating where we saw such wonderful films as Magnificent Obsession and Dial M for Murder.

Our home was a little one storey fibro dwelling a long way from the home in Beeston, Notts. I remember one day doing hand stands in the hallway and putting my backside through a fibro wall – not something which went down too well with my Dad.

We didn’t have a car, which is something which would have disappointed my father who was always an enthusiastic motorist. We did have use of an old International flatbed truck with a foot starter button on the floor and a split windscreen which you could wind open on hot days (ie every day). My Dad painted it red.

We didn’t stay there long – about a year maybe before moving back down the Cook Highway to the big smoke – Cairns, where Dad got a job as workshop foreman at the local council. It wasn’t the big tourist town that it is now – just a few streets, a muddy esplanade, no traffic lights, no parking meters and lots of places for youngsters to go swimming.

I have great memories of those times.

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_{This article was originally published in blog: Ten Pound Poms started by Mike Williamson}

[Keith Tindell]

Interesting story there Steve, look forward to the second part. Lots of guys on here have made Oz their country, and are happy there, i have relatives in Oz and have spent considerable time there, and must confess, Australia not for me, now NZ, thats another story, if i was much younger thats where i would be tempted. However, i am very happy and comfortable where i am, its easy to look through rose tinted glasses at other countries, and no where is perfect, just live life and enjoy it. kt

[Captain Kong]

THIS IS THE STORY OF AN EMMIGRANT SHIP. `M.V. GEORGIC`, the last of the White Star Liners
I was on her in 1955 to take £10 Poms to Australia, it was to be her last voyage before we took her to the breakers when we returned.
She was once a Luxury Liner on the New York run then as a Troop ship bombed and sunk in Suez, salvaged and converted for trooping.
She was a Hot ship no A/C, and on the previous voyage Five young children died due to the heat in the Red Sea, sewn up and buried at sea.

We had to go via Cape Town as it was cooler that way, The accommodation for passengers was terrible, 10 people to a cabin, families split up. all males in one cabin and all females in another for the six week voyage.

The epic story of White Star`s GEORGIC
CUNARD – WHITE STAR LINER ‘GEORGIC’ OF 1932
Built by Harland & Wolff at Belfast in 1932. Yard No. 896
Official Number: 162365 Call Sign: L H R F
Gross Tonnage: 27,759, Nett: 16,839. Length: 683·6ft Breadth: 82·4ft
Built for the Oceanic Steam Navigation Co. Ltd., (The White Star Line),
and transferred to Cunard – White Star in 1934
2 oil engines, speed: 18 knots
The Georgic was launched at Belfast by Harland & Wolff for the White Star Line on 12th November 1931. She was the final ship built for the White Star fleet. She differed from her sister – the Britannic, completed two years earlier – in a number of respects. The Georgic was designed on ambitious lines with an almost straight stem, cruiser stern, and the then fashionable squat funnels with tops parallel to the deck. Unlike her sister, the Georgic had a rounded bridge front. Slightly larger than the Britannic, her original accommodation was for a total of 1,636 passengers: 479 in cabin class, 557 in tourist class and 600 in third class.
In April 1931 it was reported that construction work on the Georgic was to be speeded up so that she could enter service in May 1932 instead of June as was originally anticipated. Behind this idea was the fact that some 25,000 Americans were due to visit Dublin to attend the Eucharistic Conference that was to be held there from 22nd until 29th June. As it turned out, the Georgic was not completed in time for the conference, and she began her maiden voyage on 25th June when she left Liverpool for New York.

The Georgic on the occasion of her maiden voyage, in July 1932
photo: Cunard Line
The Georgic’s forward funnel was a dummy and housed the radio room and the engineers’ smokeroom. She was designed as a cabin-class ship but her passengers had surroundings and comfort equal to those provided in any de luxe liner of the day. The Georgic’s trials took place in early June 1932 and a large party of guests was taken to join the ship in the Belfast Steamship Company’s motorship Ulster Monarch which was specially chartered for the occasion. The completion of the ship attracted great attention, and in welcoming her to the Mersey for the first time, the Lord Mayor of Liverpool offered his congratulations to the owners. The Georgic made the outward passage of her maiden voyage to New York in rough weather, but even so managed to arrive some twelve hours ahead of schedule.
In November 1932 the Georgic’s sailing was brought forward two days in order that she could fit in with the postal arrangements for the Christmas mails to the United States. On 11th January 1933 she made her first sailing from Southampton to New York, having moved south to replace the Olympic whilst that vessel underwent an extensive engine overhaul.
A record fruit cargo of 51,687 cartons, representing about 3,000 tons, was discharged by the Georgic at Liverpool in October 1933. On 10th May 1934 the vessel was amalgamated into the Cunard – White Star Line fleet. In June 1934 the Georgic was turned into a floating ballroom in aid of the Liverpool David Lewis Northern Hospital’s building fund. During January 1935 there was fire among some cotton bales in the ship’s forward hold.
On 3rd May 1935 the Georgic joined the Britannic on the London (King George V Dock) – Southampton – New York service, and was the largest vessel to use the Thames, being fractionally larger than the Dominion Monarch. In 1939 the Georgic reverted to the Liverpool – New York service and made five round trans-Atlantic voyages on commercial service with cargo and passengers, although she was hampered by the fact that Americans had been ordered not to travel on her as she was a belligerent ship. While she was homeward bound on 11th March 1940, the Cunard – White Star company was informed that she would be taken off commercial service. After discharging a large cargo at Liverpool, the Georgic was ordered to the Clyde on 19th April where she was converted into a troopship for 3,000 men.
At the end of May 1940 the Georgic assisted in the evacuation of British troops from Andesfjord and Narvik, and as soon as she had landed these men at Greenock, she sailed south to assist in the withdrawal from Brest and St Nazaire. She was under repeated air attack and was indeed fortunate in not being hit. Between July and September 1940 the Georgic made a trooping voyage to Iceland, and another to Halifax NS, embarking Canadian troops after landing the evacuees she carried on the westbound passage. From September 1940 until January 1941 the Georgic was employed on a trooping voyage from Liverpool and Glasgow to the Middle East via the Cape, and afterwards trooped from Liverpool to New York and Halifax, and back to the Clyde.
On 22nd May 1941 the Georgic left the Clyde under the command of Captain A.C. Greig, OBE, RNR, with the 50th Northumberland Division for Port Tewfik, Gulf of Suez. She was part of the convoy which had to be left almost unprotected during the hunt for the Bismarck. She arrived safely on 7th July 1941, but a week later on 14th July she was bombed by German aircraft operating from Crete while at anchor off Port Tewfik, with 800 Italian internees on board. Her fuel oil caught fire and the ammunition exploded in the stern area. The Georgic was gutted and the engine room flooded, but her crew managed to slip the anchor cable and beach the ship on 16th July, half submerged and burnt out.
On the after deck at No5 hatch was a new German tank to be taken to England to be tested, It had been captured in the desert. A barge came alongside and several members of the Norfolk Regiment climbed on board and although they were surrounded by flames and explosians from the ammunition exploding in No.5 Hold they got slings and the derrick and lifted the tank over the side and onto the barge. a few medals were won that day. The flames swept forard through the decks and acommodation and when the fire reached the bridge they had to slide down ropes on the fore part onto the fore deck where they waited for rescue, a young lady, who was being evacuated from Cairo to England with her baby, as the flames advanced to the fore deck she tied her baby to her back and jumped over the bow, when she surfaced her baby was dead. It took a couple of weeks for the ship to cool down sufficiently for anyone to board her. she was a burnt and blackened hulk, Eighteen feet of water in her engine room. Thus started one of the biggest salvage operations ever attempted.
On 14th September 1941 it was decided to salvage the vessel and the hulk was raised on 27th October. The hull was plugged, and on 2nd December the Georgic was taken in tow by the Clan Campbell and the City of Sydney. She reached Port Sudan on 14th December where she was made seaworthy. It had taken 12 days for the tow to cover 710 miles
The Georgic left Port Sudan on 5th March 1942 and was towed by T. & J. Harrison’s Recorder, with the tug St Sampson steering from astern. On the following day a strong north-westerly gale rendered the wallowing Georgic almost unmanageable. The southerly course had to be abandoned and the ships hove to. For five hours the Recorder battled to bring her charge head to wind, and in the process the tug St Sampson was damaged. The tug was rapidly filling with water and slipped her tow rope and drifted down wind. Shortly afterwards she foundered and her crew were picked up by the hospital ship Dorsetshire, which was passing at the time.
For twelve hours the Recorder and the Georgic rode out the gale and then, as the winds abated, cautiously swung back through 180 degrees to resume their course. Meanwhile they were joined by another tug, the Pauline Moller and the British India steamer Haresfield and together they guided their labouring charge past Abu Ail and the islands of the southern Red Sea into the Gulf of Aden, and on to Karachi. The salvage crew responsible for the Georgic lived on board the Recorder and every few days boarded the liner from a motor launch in order to pump out a steady ingress of water.
On 31st March 1942, 26 days out of Port Sudan, the ships arrived off Karachi where the Georgic was taken in hand by eight harbour tugs. The Recorder and her consorts, having covered 2,100 miles with the Georgic, had completed one of the most successful salvage operations of the war. Captain W.B. Wilford of the Recorder was later invested with the OBE.
The Georgic remained at Karachi until 11th December whilst temporary repairs were carried out. She then sailed to Bombay, arriving on 13th December, where she was drydocked for hull cleaning and further repairs. Finally she loaded 5,000 tons of pig iron ballast and on 20th January 1943 the Georgic left Bombay under her own power for Liverpool where she arrived on 1st March, having made the passage at 16 knots. Shortly afterwards she sailed for Belfast, but had to anchor in Bangor Bay until 5th July awaiting a berth. After seventeen months the Georgic emerged on 12th December 1944 with one funnel and a stump foremast. She was now owned by the Ministry of Transport, with Cunard-White Star as managers. After trials, the Georgic left Belfast for Liverpool on 16th December 1944, three years and five months since she was bombed at Port Tewfik.
During 1945 the Georgic trooped to Italy, the Middle East and India. On Christmas Day she arrived at Liverpool with troops from the Far East, including General Sir William Slim, C-in-C South East Asia. Early in 1946 the Georgic repatriated 5,000 Italian prisoners of war. In June 1946 on a homeward voyage from Bombay there was trouble between civilian women and service women, and this led to the barring of civilians on troopships unless no other transport was available.
In September 1948 the Georgic was refitted by Palmers & Company at Hebburn for the Australian and New Zealand emigrant trade. She retained her White Star livery, and could accommodate 1,962 passengers in one class. In January 1949 the Georgic made her first sailing on the Liverpool – Suez – Fremantle – Melbourne – Sydney run with 1,200 ‘assisted passages’. However, as she was leaving Princes Landing Stage a rope wrapped round one of her propellers and she had to re-dock. During the summers from 1950 to 1954, the Georgic was chartered back to Cunard and she made seven round voyages to New York each year as a one-class liner. In 1950 she was based at Liverpool, but Southampton was her terminal port from 1951 until 1954.
In the winter of 1954/55 the Georgic resumed ‘assisted passage’ voyages to Australia, and on 16th April 1955 she arrived at Liverpool with troops from Japan. She was then offered for sale, but the Australian Government chartered her for the summer. The Georgic’s final voyage was to Australia via Cape Town with British emmigrants, then Australian Troops , 2RAR, to Penang and Butterworth ,Malaya,
After loading 2000 French Foreign Legionaires at Cape St. Jaque, now renamed Vung Tau, Viet Nam we took them to Algiers and Marseilles.

On 11th December the Georgic was laid up at Kames Bay, Isle of Bute, pending disposal. In January 1956 the Georgic was sold for scrapping and on 1st February arrived at Faslane for demolition by Shipbreaking Industries Ltd.

More to come on the voyages of the Georgic.........................I did her last voyage then took her to the breakers, sad.

The `Georgic` was a good job on deck, and always on a good run.
We took emmigrants, £10 Poms, to Oz, via Capetown , Freemantle, Melbourne, Sydney, then loaded 3000 Australian troops for Malaya when the war was on against the Commies, calling at Moreton Bay, Thursday Island and then put them ashore at Penang for Butterworth, then to Singapore to await orders then we had to go to Viet Nam to rescue the French Foreign Legion, survivors of the battle of Dien Bien Phu, then we took them to Algiers and Mardeilles via Aden and Suez coming back light ship from there. we had a six week work by in the Sandon Basin before taking her to the Clyde.


Yes the Georgic was in a mess physically,
All the shell plating down both of her sides were very corrugated and inside the main working allyway down below that ran from the focsle to down aft the full length of the ship was just a wavy line.
When she was bombed and burned out and then submerged in Suez 1941
would have been the end for any ship today but they knew how to build good ships then.
From a beautiful luxury liner she became just a transport. She was actually owned by the MOWT and managed by Cunard after the war.
Her time was mostly spent trooping or transporting refugees, sometimes in the summers in the early fifties she carried students from the US to Europe.
she was used transporting troops to Korea and Japan, then immigrants to Australia and New Zealand.
The accommodation for passengers was not good, there were ten to cabin
when we had the £10 Poms on. The families were split up, all the females in one cabin and all the males in a seperate one, so on a six week voyage to OZ they were not getting any conjugals.
A few of the crew used to rent out their cabins on an hourly basis , I think it was £1 an hour, so a husband and wife could get together and give it some welly.
She did four trips to OZ with the migrants and each time she filled up every gaol house from Freemantle to Sydney, and every alehouse on the way was destroyed by the lunatics in the catering side of the crew.
When I was on her we were alongside the stage for five days in August 1955 with 2500 passengers onboard but no cooks or stewards.
The women were working in the galley doing the cooking and waiting on in the saloon. Cunard were paying the women 12 shillings a day to work.
No Steward would join the ship as she had a bad reputation and most of all there were no tips from the migrants.
in the end I believe they went to Walton Gaol and asked for any ex seafarers to volunteer for a voyage to Australia. and six coaches full of "stewards and cooks" came down to the pier head and were herded aboard, we let go as soon as the last walked up the gangway before they could escape.
They didn`t start work , they just went on the ale and stayed on the ale for the next few months. These guys were gangsters and completely uncontrollable.

On the way to Cape Town in the good weather, in the evenings we would sit on the fore deck by the stair way to the pig, we had guitars and I played the base, a tea chest with a broomstick and a piece of Boat lacing. all the young girls who were passengers would come out on the fore deck with us and soon we were all dancing, jiving all over the fore deck, this is what seafaring is all about, I met a lovely young girl there and we stayed together all trip, Sheila, saw her for the next two years.

By the time we got to Cape Town three of the lunatics from Walton were taken ashore and charged with attempted murder. All the catering staff walked off on strike most of them forced ashore by the big hard cases , one was big Jossie Peters from Bootle, a giant of a man with a big iron fist driving them down the gangway.
When the three were being brought from the gaol to the court on the third day, they rushed the police and got them away and ran back to the ship and big Jossie drove them back up the gangway again. Old Captain Fitzgerald thinking the strike was over shouted to us to let go and we sailed out into Table Bay, followed by a Police Boat calling us to stop so we anchored. The Police came on board and searched the ship from fore to aft and they found the three men and took them ashore again. they got ten years each on the attempted murder charges.
They were battling and trying to kill each other all the way to Fremantle, A steward was smashed around the head and face in the shower with a large glass jug, he was found in a pool of blood and had to have 120 stitches to keep him in one piece.
Another steward was in the B Deck saloon having his dinner after the passengers had left, he was attacked by a gang and battered with a water jug and then a heavy saloon chair was smashed over his body. Every time a battle started they always called the watch on deck to help the six Master at Arms, we would wait until the battle had finished before going in, we didn’t want to be targets.
The watch on deck and the Master at Arms were at it every day trying to stop them and the gaol on the ship which was down in the forepeak was full of lunatics and we had to guard them while we were on watch, not a pleasant job when the lunatics were full of ale trying to break down the door to the gaol house flat. The flat was a room with nine cells off it and we would have to sit at a table with the door locked, we would get abuse and threats off the guys in the cells and then around midnight when the others were full of ale they would come down the alleyway and start battering the door trying to break out their mates. I would be on the phone to the Bridge shouting for help. No fun being on the 12 to 4 at night,
When we hit Fremantle every alehouse in town was smashed up. Men were flying through windows out of The HM Hotel, Cleos , The Orient the P&O and so on, the cops had reinforcements coming in from Perth and when we left for Melbourne 27 men were left ashore in the big gaol house
The first two alehouses by Station Pier in Port Melbourne were destroyed, and the battle continued along the pier and back on board followed by the police and during the battle several cops were badly injured ,more reinforcements had to be brought in from all the districts outside. About 30 men were left ashore there in the gaol house on Russell Street. I had met a nice young lady , one of the migrants to Melbourne, Sheila Robinson, very attractive and we would do our courting up in the crows nest in the afternoons on watch, she became quite good at climbing the mast. Instead of doing a two hour look out I always did the four. Sadly Sheila left at Melbourne but we kept in touch and the following two years I went to see her and her friend Anita who became Miss Australia, when we were on the Dunedin Star and Adelaide Star.
When we hit Sydney they were waiting for us, The headlines in the `Sydney Truth` " She`s her again! the `Battle Ship Georgic `hit the Australian coast again last week and since then has been taking on all comers."
The ale houses at Woolloomooloo , the Tilbury, the Bells and the Macquarry were all destroyed.
One man got 11 years gaol for cutting another man`s throat on board the ship. and many others were locked up there. The last of the passengers got off there and what a relief it was for them. Six weeks of hell.
We stayed there for 2 weeks and every time I went ashore the Aussies were stopping us asking if we were off the Georgic, if you said yes then you were filled in. I learned to speak with a Norwegian accent and denied any knowledge of a ship called Georgic. In the pubs in town no one would serve any one from the ship.
We then loaded 3000 Australian troops, 2RAR, for Malaya, as they were all lined up waiting to embark , the flags were flying and the bands were playing `Waltzing Matilda` and so on very impressive, people were cheering,
and the lunatics were on the fore deck throwing beer bottles at them on the jetty, When we sailed , that night was the biggest battle ever seen at sea. and next day for the very first time in six weeks the stewards and cooks went to work and what a quiet ship it was All the troops were Korean war vets and were a lot harder than those guys. As we were sailing down Sydney Harbour I was walking forard along the Prom deck when I saw an Australian soldier stood in a corner and weeping, I said what’s up Mate, and he just said "I am not coming back from this one, I did Korea and I know I am going to get killed this time" , I stood there with my arm around his shoulders as he sobbed on my shoulder. You`ll be all right mate , I said. we stood there for quite a while until he composed himself. an unusual experience, I always wondered if he survived, quite a few did get killed in Malaya, The Troops were rationed to four bottles of beer a day, but we got to know a few and in the end we had ten soldiers coming to the cabin every evening, The beer was Wrexham Lager at and old eight pence a pint from the Pig. They would give me a pound note and say get the ten pints in and keep the change. It cost six shillings and eight pence a round so I was making a lot of money every night, more than I was earning on wages and overtime.
Eighteen Months later when I was on the Dunedin Star in Brisbane I walked into the Grand Central pub and a fellah at the bar was one of our crowd of soldiers, I had a drink with him and he told me that two of the lads had been killed. very sad, I have a photo of them somewhere.
After we put the army ashore in Penang we had a couple of weeks hanging around Singapore and so they started again wrecking the joint. more were left in gaol then we went to Viet Nam to rescue the French Foreign Legion from a beach, they were the ones who got away from the massacre at Dien Bien Phu , we were running the lifeboats to the beach dragging these guys, who were in a terrible state, into the boats, I pulled one Legionaire into the boat and he was dead so I removed his steel helmet as he didn't need it anymore and put it on my head , I still have it 64 years later, and took them back to the Georgic, as we were dragging them through the shell doors these lunatics who were supposed to be assisting them were robbing them of their weapons , pistols , rifles, bayonets, machine guns, hand grenades etc.
We were supposed to pick up about three thousand but only two and a half thousand made it. Around 500 were left for dead on the beach.
When it was all sorted out and we upped anchor and sailed they realised that all their weapons were missing.
So we had to go round every cabin and store and space in the ship with the MAA`s and the Legion`s Military Police and other Officers to search the ship and recover the weapons. What a mess these guys could have caused with all that lot.
We buried some of the Legionnaires who died with their wounds and then when the rest of the Legionnaires recovered from their ordeal they sorted out the catering staff , they were calling them Sir and grovelling to them and they were in tears,
On the way to Algiers, Every Friday the Starboard side of the Prom deck was made out of bounds, the M**l*ms of the Legionnaires had their service there, they had picked up some sheep in Aden and they slit the throats of the sheep and bled them all over the wooden decks. for the Halal meat. What a mess, we had to clean it all up after they had finished. the blood stains were very difficult to remove, we holystoned and barbarised but the stains were still there.
So we had an uneventful voyage back to Algiers and Marseilles, What a wonderful reception these Legionnaires got at both places, The Marseilles one was really fantastic, with a 100 piece military band with the colourful uniforms of the Legion, with their white Kepie Blancs, blue coats red lining and white trousers and black boots. Some of the big tough legionnaires were actually weeping, tears streaming down their cheeks, very emotional,
We sailed empty bound for Liverpool. and when we got back to Liverpool there was a big write up in the Liverpool Echo all about the voyage.
Apart from all that it was a good trip.

One or two points that I missed out on there,,
On the way to Australia a lot of us have girl friends from out of the passengers, one Quartermaster was really in love with his, When we arrived in Sydney he applied to the Immigration to get married to his girl, the Immigration said Yes and he could also stay there and found him a job as a Wharfie, Captain Fitzgerald had him paid off and then we had a big party at one of the Sydney Hotels. The Mate then asked me if I wanted the QMs job. I said OK as it was one pound a month extra pay. a lot of money then, so I got a white Navy suit to wear.
The Firemen's Peggy was called Peggy O`Neil, an old fireman too old to work down below, he came from the same village as Captain Fitzgerald on the Island Magee, they went to school together as boys and then both went their different ways, Captain Fitzgerald went as an apprentice on the Monkbarns, a famous Four masted Cape Horner and eventually made Master in the White Star Line and Cunard. Peggy went coal burning from trimmer to fireman to greaser and then he suffered injuries in the war at sea. and so became Firemen's Peggy, a real cushy job. They both had remained friends throughout all the years and every Saturday night when I was on the bridge during the 8 to 12 watch we could hear them getting drunk, singing and sometimes arguing about some thing that had happened in their youth. Captain Fitzgerald was a lovely old Seafaring man.
In Sydney we spent a week loading arms, weapons, explosives, bombs for the RAAF, shells, bullets, vehicles, guns, etc. etc, all the logistics for a war zone. about 5,000 tons in all. We also had several dingoes and six baby dingo pups, the dog handlers told me that when trained from being a pup they made the best sniffer dogs of all. When we sailed down Sydney Harbour to the Heads we were followed by hundreds of boats and the ferries with thousands of screaming girls, "G`bye Snowy, dont be shaggin` those native sheilas Bruce " and so on, all very exciting, waving banners, Australian music Waltzing Matilda blasting from loud speakers, We called at Moreton Bay at the entrance to the Brisbane River to load about two hundred more Troops from ferry boats.
When we left Morton Bay in Queensland we had two Royal Australian warships as an escort all the way to Penang, They were HMAS WARRAMUNGA AND HMAS ARUNTA, They were in position one on either side of us. The RAAF would be flying their Shackleton planes all around us all the way up the reef to the Timor Sea, they had to leave when we got into Indonesian waters. We sailed the full length of the Great Barrier Reef, 1500 miles, the first liner ever to do it and put the pilots ashore in Thursday Island, with a load of food stuff and 12 churns of milk for the Islanders, who dont get the best of victuals. The whole scenario was quite exciting, we were going to war. The 2RAR were the first Australian troops to go to Malaya since 1941 and it was a big event for them. When we arrived in Penang on the 19th of October 1955 , they went ashore and were put into British Army camps on Penang Island. Much to the dismay of the British National Service man, they were on 28 shillings a week gross, the Australian Soldier was on many times that amount, and also had a an extra allowance for using British facilities, and so the price of beer and the girls went up considerably.
The Troops were to be sent to Butterworth across the Strait on the mainland where the action was against the Commies, A British Army Camp had been evacuated for them. We took the Georgic across and spent nearly two weeks discharging all the 5,000 tons of equipment into barges, we had Australian soldiers down the holds and us Sailors drove the winches and landed the gear into the barges, and the soldiers took the barges ashore. There were no native Malay labour involved at all in case of sabotage. This qualified us for the Australian General Service Medal with the Malaya clasp. for over seven days in the war zone.
Then for the Australian Army, politics took over, The Australian Prime Minister at the time said the Troops could not go to Butterworth as it was a war zone so they had to stay in Penang, which was safe. This was in October 1955, and the General Election for a new Government was to be held in January 1956, he did not want any body bags coming home to ruin his election so they had to stay there until the election was over.
Later several body bags did go back to Australia. I believe 15 were killed and 27 were wounded. Politicians never change.
If there's a life that follers this
If there's a "Golden Gate",
The only welcome that I want to 'ear,
Is just "Good onya Mate"
Lest we forget. Australian Army.


Now for the immigrants to Australia.
As I said , I met Sheila Robinson, a beautiful green eyed ginger haired girl, she was with her parents and younger brother, they had sold their house in Bury in Lancashire and wanted a better life in Australia.
We had a good time for six weeks outward bound then we arrived in Melbourne on a very cold and rainy day, it looked just like a Lancashire winter. What have we come to they all said. Where is this land of sunshine.
I said my good byes to Sheila and her family, Her Dad knew my Dad, they both played in Brass Bands at home.
We kept in touch, by letter and a year later Tony and I went to Melbourne on the Dunedin Star. The Robinson family were still in the Hostel that the Government had put them in. We got a taxi to Brooklyn, an outer suburb of Melbourne, and there it was, a fence of barbed wire and a large metal gate. the area was full of Nissan Huts. looked just like P.O.W. camp, very depressing.
Each Nissan hut held two families separated by a wall of breeze blocks. There was no water inside the hut , just a cold water tap on the outside. These people had my admiration, they were pioneers in a new world but deserved better treatment than this. Living like refugees. They had no help once they got into the camp, they had to get a job and stay at it for at least 12 months before they could move jobs. and it was up to them to find a house. not like the bums and stiffs who are flooding into England demanding houses and money for doing nothing. Nine months later Tony and I went back to Melbourne and I stayed at the farm house they were living in. A lot better than the Hostel. Just after that Sheila and Anita, Tony`s girl friend who became Miss Australia, and later a Movie star in Hollywood, kicked us both into touch. They had got jobs at the new TV studios in Melbourne and they had met a couple of TV Executives, so we were out.
.

We arrived back in Liverpool on 20 November and had three weeks in the Sandon Half tide Dock. in Liverpool after that last voyage working by, just doing a fire watch, while the shore gang stripped out the ship of everything that could be moved, including baths , sinks , toilets, what ever.
On night watch we spent most of our time in Broken Nose Jacks on the dock road, the bridge boy had instructions to phone the pub if there was going to be a fire drill. The rest of the night we slept.
On the 10th of December with only a handful of men, we sailed from Liverpool for the last time, she was doomed.
We arrived near Rothesay to some buoys and during mooring operations in a freezing blizzard, heavy snow blowing in a severe gale, the Port propeller wound the chain from one of the buoys around the shaft. We were stuck. the following day barges came out to us and divers, the old fashioned type, lead boots and big helmets went down with burners and tried to burn the chains off. She did not want to go to the breakers, she put up a fight to the end. it took two days and nights working under water for them to release her. then we had to moor her to some other buoys. We left the ship on the 15th of December for the last time. We climbed into a tug which took us to Greenock, I saw old George the Prom Deck man, hiding behind a vent on the tug, he was weeping. “Whats the matter George?” I said. He told me he had been on the ship since the day she was built and was on it when she was bombed and sunk at Suez, he stayed with her for all the three year salvage operation and now it was good bye. George was 68 years old and would have to leave the sea, he had nowhere to live, the Georgic had always been his home. I dont think he would have lived long after that.
We arrived in Greenock and then caught a train back to Liverpool. The reason we went to Australia via Cape Town was, On the previous voyage to Australia with Immigrants from Liverpool sailing in May 1955, when the ship got to the Red Sea, the ship was so hot, being built for the North Atlantic trade, no air conditioning, and poorly ventilated below in rooms for ten passengers, five young children whose parents were taking them to a better life in Australia, died from the heat and they were buried in the Red Sea. All the remaining children had to be kept in the chill rooms below the galleys, to stay cool, I think class rooms and lessons were arranged to keep them occupied. very sad for the families.
The route around the Cape was far cooler. We lost no passengers that trip. There are many other stories of the GEORGIC, it can go on forever, but this story gives you an idea of what it was like to sail on such a famous ship. She had the largest diesel engines in the world. and the last built liner for the White Star Line.
We had four stowaways on board when we left Liverpool on our last voyage, they were put ashore in Las Palmas when we stopped for bunkers on the way to Cape Town.
I remember big Jossy Peters asking me if I had a guitar, I replied No. so he gave me one, then he came back with another two then he gave me more and more, I had twenty seven guitars in my cabin, `What yer doing this for Jossy? ` he said `I hate guitars and everyone's got one so I takes them off them`
　That was the end of the Saga of the Georgic.

[Des Taff Jenkins]

Hi Victoria.
A story to be told there, The only 10 pound Aussie. You will be glad that you have not been chased for the fare. When I emigrated to NZ I was put in a boarding house in Wellington by immigration, I left the next day as I joined a ship, twelve months later up in Auckland an emigration officer came aboard a ship I was on and said you owe us one pound, I hadn't paid for the night's board in Wellington, it must have cost them at least a hundred pounds to chase me down.
Cheers Des

[happy daze john in oz]

On the 'Paproa' from UK to Oz we had two ex pat Aussies coming back home.
Both had been in the BMN but wanted to go home.
No work for them travelled as luxury passengers the way they behaved.

One claimed to be the son of the CEO of BHP and said any one who wants to jump ship he will find work for you.
No one took up the offer.

[John F Collier]

The three instances I knew of people that emigrated to Australia all had very different outcomes to their quest for a new life, one good,
one sad and one a disaster. A lad I had known throughout our school years joined the MN while I was on my first trip and funnily enough
he turned up as my relief when we docked for pay off, he stayed on for his first trip and after my leave I returned for my second trip
so we became cabin mates and firm friends as we had a loti common, later we also sailed on the Waiwera together, he [eft the MN before
me as he'd met his future wife, when I came ashore he was already married and they were going to Australia as£10 Poms, he came over
for his mums funeral in the late 80s and paid us a visit, he was now a police sergeant in Sydney, had four kids and they were having a great life.
My mums neighbour's son was killed in a rally car accident and she decided to sell up and move to Aus to be near her daughter and grandchildren,
sadly she died within the first year, it seems the heat was too much for her. Working on BT in the late 70s we had a new bloke joining my group,
I took him to work with me, it soon became clear that although he was a good enough bloke, he was not a "Happy chappy", after a while he told
me what had happened. He had been a telephone engineer at Southend, they went to Aus as £10 Poms in the 60s when his two children were
just toddlers, he went to work for an Aus telephone company and because of his experience he got quick promotion and did very well, he got
a mortgage and the family lived happily for yesrs the kids were at school and his wife had a job, then she started to get homesick after all those
years, because she was unhappy it was making life miserable for them all and he finally gave in, they sold up and came back to the UK. As they
stepped of the plane at Heathrow, his wife turned to him and said I wish we hadn't left Aus??? "Poor sod", they went to live with the inlaws, his kids
were now in their early teens and very unhappy at leaving their friends in Aus, the four of them lived in one room and ate with with the inlaws
downstairs, there was arguments every day and the whole family fell out in the end, he couldn't get back on the phones in Aus but eventually
landed a job as a housing officer with some Authority, he was with me for about a year before he managed to get back, we never heard
anymore about him once he was gone so no idea how it eventually panned out, I felt really sorry for that bloke.

[Des Taff Jenkins]

Hi John.
Reminded me of a family we lived near after buying our first house in NZ. They were only out there for a year then went back home; as the wife missed her mother, they were back in twelve months as she didn't like it in the UK, then twelve months later they were off again back to the UK . Probably ended up living in a tent on Clapham Common.
DEs

[happy daze john in oz]

My brother and law came out with his wife in late 50's.
Landed in Melbourne and were lucky enough to get accommodation straight away as his uncle aa family were already here.
One year later the uncle takes his family to NZ where twins were born.
Two years later goes back to UK and hate sit but sadly does not have the finances to get back.
We still keep in touch with his daughter and family now in Bradford.

In 2005 we went sponsors for my brother and his wife, they waned a new start and the ways things were going in UK thought it would be better for their two young daughters.
All was fine for the first five years then things went belly up.
Brother and wife split, she kept the daughters he got the dogs.
Daughters are now grown up, he sees them but will never go anywhere near the wife even though they are still married.

So many similar stories regarding those who came from UK, the majority made it good, but there are a small number for whom it has never been good.

[Valerie Pratt]

In 1948 my parents sister, brother and I became ten pound Poms, sailed from Tilbury on thr SS Moloja, one of the few migrant ships that sailed to Brisbane, As kids we had a great time onboard ship, after rationing of food in the UK food onboard was plentiful, tasted Pineapple for the first time, thought it was sweetened turnip!!
Onboard were some Orphzns escorted by Matrons , they were going to Orphanages and a better life in Australua, but as many of us now know that did not happen. Remember going through the /Suez canal, and going ashore in Aden, . At each port in Australia photos were taken if a group of twins including us and due to other news wasn't published in the Newspapers until in Sydney.
On arrival in Brisbane we stayed fir a week in the Migrant hostel, we were visited by a senior civil servant friend if a neighbour back home, much to the surprise of the staff there and other migrants.the Civil servant was On the staff of the then Primeminister of Australia.
After some days on a train sitting up , no sleepers, we eventually arrived in Bowen , now the Mango capital of Australua, where we had to wait for the next train, a carriage attached to the coal train , and on to Collinsville, where we stayed with family and soon bought our own little house, dad worked in the Cosl mind there, was fined for not attending Union meetings. Mum ran a home laundry, charging a shilling to wash and iron a shirt, her first customers were the bank lads, soon she had a stream of people bringing sacks of shirts to ve laundered. We kids went to the local school, .
Collinsville in those days had 1,000 residents, a post office, hospital shops a cinema with a corrugated iron roof.... Not much fun when the rains came !!
It was a good life, but sadly for family reasons we returned home in 1951, it was an adventure, and maybe one of the reasons I returned to Australua in 1967 and also why I joined the Merchsnt Navy in 1970

[happy daze john in oz]

There were two migrant hostels here in Melbourne, one was an ex army barracks.

The other was something else, hard to describe as it was such a monster.
Families were split into men in one section, women and kids in another.

In 1995 the building was offered to the Uni where I was employed, suitable for student accommodation we were informed.
When we saw it we were shocked beyond belief!!!
It was just the way it had been left in 1972 when last used as a migrant hostel.

To say it was something out of Dickens time was an award for it, it was far worse than any work house could ever have been.

How people lived here, often for months prior to finding accommodation, the kitchen if it could be called that would not have even been in use in prison camps in WW2 kit was so bad.

We did eventually gut the place and turn it into a hostel for students as the actual building was sound.

[Brett Hayes]

What a saga of memories! Enjoyed immensely.