Chapter 3

Andy had been fairly frugal during his four and a half years aboard the Albatross. He didn’t gamble, only drank a little, and his biggest expense was on women in nearly every port. He had a respectable sum in the bank. So the first thing he did in Sydney that late September day in 1932 when he was paid off was find a comfortable hotel near The Domain and book in for five nights.

He spent two days at the Australian Museum, finding that he was more interested in the myriad artefacts than in the stuffed and mounted animals. He’d sent “souvenirs” to his parents from most of the ports he’d visited, but he’d never considered the ways such things reflected a way of life. He then spent over a day at the newer Art Gallery, but wasn’t struck by anything in particular. He did notice that there were vastly more women in the galleries than men.

The first full day ashore, Andy placed a trunk call to Charleville. The line from Sydney to Brisbane had been installed while he was at TSS and he knew that the station had a connection. It took about twenty minutes, but he was able to speak to his father and tell him that, yes, he was fine, and that yes, he’d be returning, perhaps in two weeks or so. And yes, he was fine. And love to mum. It was a very expensive few minutes, but worth it.

Andy’d been wearing his uniform. That was all he owned. But on his third day in Sydney he asked his way to several shops and was horrified at the prices. By the second shop he was aware that it would cost a good deal for him to equip himself with a suit, half a dozen shirts, and several pairs of trousers. But as he turned off Pitt Street to enter the Strand Arcade, a voice called out “Young Hollister!” and, turning, he saw a smartly clad Foster.

“Sir!”

“Still in the Navy?”

“No, sir. Just paid off.”

“Looking for a job?”

“Of course. But what are you doing?”

“Come, we’ll sit in the coffee shop and I’ll explain.”

Foster led him to a shop in the Arcade and they sat in a relatively quiet area. “I’ll want to hear what you’ve been up to, but let me fill you in first.”

“Yes, sir.”

“The Navy wanted me ashore, teaching. But I didn’t want to do that. So I nosed about and found there were jobs goin’ with the steamer lines – up to China an’ Singapore; over to the islands; through Suez to Gibraltar; and even up to Belfast an’ Glasgow. But I didn’t really see myself doin’ that either. I was talkin’ with an old mate and he tipped me to McIlwraith MacEacharn. Have you heard of ‘em?”

“Yes. I’ve seen several of their ships. They go Sydney, Melbourne, Adelaide, Albany, Fremantle. Maybe Hobart, I don’t recall.”

“Good! You’re still a sharp lad. Right now, they’re sailin’ Orungal, Ormiston, Canberra, Kanowna, Karoola, Katoomba, Zealandia and Dimboola. I’m most involved with Karoola an’ Katoomba. They were both built in the Clyde before the War. Karoola’s a bit over 7,000 tons, Katoomba’s right at 9,500. They were both converted to troopships an’ reconverted in 1919.

“They’re both coastal passenger carriers. Only a bit o’ freight. I’m in charge of the routing and scheduling. Right now, Katoomba’s on ‘er way back from Fremantle. She’s scheduled to make a Christmas trip to the Reef and to the islands. I need a reliable navigator who can keep off the rock an’ the coral and be polite to the passengers.”

“Sir?”

“The whole trip’s a month. You get to wear a spiffy uniform and smile at the rich folks. You’ll be a young officer and they’ll be over-fed and over-wined. Ormiston lost a drunk cane plantation owner over two years ago. His wife was thrilled; didn’t even want to look for him.”

“Any future in it?”

“At least a few years. Company’ll buy you two or three uniforms; good food; cabin o’ your own.”

“Dosh?”

“How about double your last Navy wage?”

“Double?”

“Yep.”

“Where do I sign?”

“Tomorrow morning. McIlwraith MacEachern is in a new building on Wynyard Square, Carrington Street. We’re near the approach to the new bridge.”

“Time?”

“After nine.”

“Will I be – uh – needed immediately?”

“I doubt it. Katoomba won’t even be here for about ten days. Why?”

“I thought I’d visit my folks in the west of Queensland. It’ll take me two days each way.”

“Well, we’ll sign you up tomorrow. We’ll put you on salary from the 26^th. OK? Then we’ll send you to our tailor and then we’ll require you to report back on ... oh ... the 10^th or the 17^th. Would that work?”

“Yes, sir. I’ll spend ten days with my parents, which should suffice so they’ll be glad I’ll be away again. One more thing?”

“Yes?”

“When’s the cruise and what are its ports of call?”

“We’ll get you the brochure tomorrow. See you in the morning.” Foster tossed three shillings on the table and left.

Well, I thought, that takes care of my immediate problem. I looked about the Arcade a bit. But, until I visited the tailor, I’d put off any purchases. Except some books. There was a bookshop and I wanted to buy some fiction.

There are over 900 islands located in the Great Barrier Reef, from Poruma Island, 10 degrees south of the Equator, to Lady Elliot Island, a coral cay at the south end of the Reef, at 24 degrees south. Of course, there’s Fraser Island, too, the largest sand island in the world, at 25 south.

I had an early dinner and telephoned Charleville. This time my father was home. I told him that it appeared that I’d be returning to the sea, but that I’d be privately employed. We could talk about it when I saw them. I suggested that I leave Sydney in two days, overnight in Brisbane and then take the train to Charleville. I said I thought I could spend a week in the west, but it might be a day more or less. He told me that my mother was already getting the girls ready. I suggested he restrain her and he laughed.

When I got off, I realized that this was not going to be easy. Mum wanted to be a grannie.

Oh, well. I began a Wodehouse, Big Money, but abandoned it after only a dozen pages. I’d enjoyed Wooster and Jeeves, but this was about two bounders trying to amass enough money to get married.

When I woke up, I washed and scraped my face carefully, ate breakfast and found my way to Carrington Street. I asked for “Mr. Foster’s office” and was shown upstairs and to a waiting room presided over by an exceptionally pretty young woman. She showed me in right away.

“Thanks, Eddie,” Foster said. “Good to see you, Hollister.”

“I’m both eager and curious.”

“Understandable. Let me fill in the background. Australia has had coastal shipping since soon after the first fleet. First wooden sailing vessels, then ironclads and combination sail- and steam, and now steamers. And paddle-wheels on the rivers. Most of the shipping up to the War was freight. But just before the War there were several passenger liners. Now there are even more. And steamin’ around for fun has become quite popular.

“This is where we come in. A few years ago, this company began a Christmas cruise. In general to some of the islands: Tonga, Fiji, Vanuatu, New Caledonia ... sometimes New Zealand. Katoomba originally provided for 150 first, 250 second and 300 third class passengers. That was torn apart when she was a troop carrier and then redone after the War. She now carries 200 first and 300 second class and no thirds. Straight luxury cruise. She’s a magnificent ship, 450 feet, single funnel. The main lounge is like the best hotel here in Sydney.