Love love me do

[happy daze john in oz]

CONTINUED.........

The barman having heard the comments of the second just looked up and said don’t worry mate we can fix it. He then turned and left with the beer, the beer I had obviously paid for.
Done my dough now I reckoned and unless he gives me beer for free tonight then it was all for nothing. Thought no more of the matter until just after lunch when one of the dockworkers appeared in the galley doorway asking for me. Why does every one want to see me today, I have never been here before. The cook who had done a few voyages to Oz told me not to worry; he would see what it was about. Two hours later back in my cabin and there in the corner, two cases of beer. The barman had spoken to one of the wharfie’s, told him the story and the wharfie had fixed it. Told the guy on the gangway he had stores for the galley, all wrapped up in black plastic. The wharfie’s in Melbourne had seen it all before.
Two days later and we were told the skipper was going to the airport to see the Beatles arriving, on their tour of Australia having come in from Adelaide.

We had the luxury of half a day off that day, so as soon as lunch was over we set out for the city centre. With the bars closing at six we knew we had to get what we could while we could. Back to the small bar later at night was alright but for now we needed action. We tried the usual watering holes such as the Waterman’s Arms and the Pelican, ending up in Young and Jackson’s, or to give it the correct name Princess Bridge Hotel. All was going well until Taffy spotted the painting of Chloe, the well known and much revered painting hanging in full splendour on the wall. We had been drinking since about two and it was now getting close to the infamous six o’clock, time to close. Just as well maybe as unknown to us we were about to be ejected in the most unceremonious fashion. Taffy was to blame, having seen Chloe and taken a good look he ventured to the bar asking the barman if he had a razor handy. The barman was a bit confused as it was such a request he had never been asked for before. In his innocence he asked what the razor would be for, thinking that maybe something else would do the job. No said Taffy, having taken a good look at that painting over there I think she is in need of a shave!

That was it, the barman would have no more, coming from behind the bar he made it quite clear that we had to leave now and never come back. We have had enough of you rough seamen over the years, never come in here again he cried! Outside it was beginning to get dark, it was mid winter so not unusual, and something we were not sure of was occurring. We soon became aware that as well as the workers on their way home there was another group of people, much younger and by all appearances very happy. They came from all corners it appeared and were shouting loudly, ‘We want the Beatles’. Of course they were in town, but where we had no idea, easily find out though just follow them, as there appeared to know where to go. Slowly the crowd made it’ way along Swanston Street up to Burke Street and then up to Exhibition Street and there on the corner the ‘Southern Cross’ Hotel. The crowd, so determined to get to the hotel, had pulled us along, such was the crush we found ourselves it that I swear my feet hardly touched the ground as we made our way there. Suddenly we arrived and the crowd was a mass of screaming young people mainly girls. The noise was like a screaming jet engine tearing at my eardrums, and the constant yell of, “We want the Beatles’ rang out across the land.

We were jostled and pushed to such an extent I feared we might come to harm and suggested we make our way to the side of the hotel where the crowd appeared to be a bit lighter. As we moved around I noticed three of what I considered to be local lads also making their way to the side of the hotel, but by the movements of them I got the impression they knew where they were going. One of them noticed us and spoke to Cookie, telling him they were off to the fire escape at the back of the hotel, they were going in and knew the way. Bloody fine mess this will be I considered when they suggested we join them! So like lambs to the slaughter we followed to where the fire escape was situated. Fires escape, this was more like a Jacobs ladder clinging hard to the side of the building. At the top a door that we assumed led into the main hotel building, that was now our aim, the door.

The two local lads began the climb and were making good progress, I was impressed by their skills, and maybe they were local cat burglars I thought. Cookie was the next to go then Yorkie, I was to go next with Taffy to bring up the rear. The first of the local lads was about two steps from the top when we heard the voice, a strong voice with strong intent. ‘And just where do you lot think you are going’? He asked. I froze, as did the others we had been sprung by the local law. I looked over my shoulder to see standing there at the foot of the fire escape three of the biggest cops I had ever seen.

Slowly we made our way down to be greeted by these guys who were really were built like brick dunnies. There was no escape; they had a divi van across the gateway we had entered so all we could do was to stand there in anticipation of what would happen next. They lined us up and began asking what the hell we thought we were doing. The noise outside was reaching fever pitch with so many screaming girls and here we were looking at three cops, no justice in this world I began to think. The cops then asked for identification, thankfully we all had our Red seaman’s identification books with us. They studied them and asked the other two where they were from. Once satisfied they were stuffed into the pack of the divi van which then took off. Often wondered what happened to them. We were then subjected to a lecture about the laws of Australia and what would happen to us if we got into any more trouble. Satisfied that we were no threat to national security we were also put in the back of a divi van and driven back to the ship. Climbing out of the van at the foot of the gangway was not a pleasant experience as the officer of the watch on the gangway took us from the police and made sure we returned on board. That was our lot for today so nothing more than an early night.

Next morning we were summonsed to meet the captain, not the best of mornings I can assure you. We were told in so uncertain terms that as ambassadors of the UK we should conduct ourselves in a better manner. Having finished his tirade at us he then informed us of the wonderful film he had made of the Beatles as they were driven into town and later he would show us all that film. Rubbing salt into the wounds I think they call it.

I often go into Young and Jackson’s for a beer now; Chloe is still there though behind a glass screen now for protection. I look at her in fond remembrance of that night, and on the odd occasion that clips of the crowds of the night appear on TV in a documentary I know I am somewhere in that crowd. Was this my fifteen minutes of fame?

[Captain Kong]

Great story John, what more can I say.
excellent
We need more of these. not only entertaining but our History.
Cheers
Brian

[alf corbyn]

hey there john. i really enjoyed that little story 1&2. brought back memories of melbourne that i had forgotten. did you ever go in a cafe called the "ex bit of sweden" it was downstairs in the main shopping street i think. the waitress was a beautiful swedish blond called charmaine and we all used to sing it when we went in. i actually managed to take her out and took her to luna park. ialso remember the beer hoses.
when iwas in wellington NZ at the railway club in lower hutt during the dock strike. the barman lined all the glasses up along the bar and then filled them one after the other without switching off leaving the bar swimming in beer.when my cousin got his change it was just dumped on the wet bar. he promptly half dragged the barman over and demanded dry money. a rough lot. alf