Jacques Garnier
Ship name / Flight number: Otranto
Jacques and his mother Marsha, September 1955
Arrival date: 12/10/1955
It was a cold windy wet day, on the 4th of September 1955. I’m one of 30 boys aged around 17 years old who was on the train from London to South Hampton docks, right now we are just pulling into the docks immediately opposite our ship, the P.O. liner ‘Orontees’ of 40,000 tons. Lovingly nicknamed ‘Rockatees’ because she couldn’t lie still even in the harbour. During WW2 she was used as a troop ship in the Middle East. We are now bound for Australia to work on the land and what unknown adventures await us in the coming years.
Our cabin on the lowest deck has 6 bunk beds, no door, no aircon or anything like that, the ‘loo’ is down the passage on the right and the showers on the left, again no doors. Everything is very ‘exciting’, exploring all over the ship. Particularly the large dining area, where we ate in two sittings. The ‘food’, I have never seen so much, so many different things to try, especially fruits from around the world. Whatever happened to war time rationing?
It was smooth sailing until we hit the ‘Bay of Biscay’ off South African Coast, or was it the storm that hit us? Poor old ‘Rockatees’ willowing in the bottom of wave trough one minute, then crashing over a mountain high wave next. The whole ship shuddering. The propellers cam out of the water on the crest of a wave and crashing down again on the other side. Plus, the wallowing from side to side. Not so surprising many of the passengers were very seasick for days some surely wishing they were dead. In the dining saloon all the tables had the side flaps up to stop the plates of food ending up on the floor, of course some did, what a mess. Most of us ‘Little Brother” got stuck into the food regardless of weather conditions outside.
Activities on board were running around the top deck to keep fit and deck games such as tennis, quoits, swimming and keep fit stretch machines. In the evening films, bingo, darts and cards.
Crossing the equator. A big day of mostly water activities like the slippery pole across the swimming pool, water slide and king Neptune, king of all the sea passing sentence on members of the crew for mister meaner done during the trip. All very entertaining. Finishing the day’s activities, a big BBQ ship style feast, eating and drinking as much as you would like.
Ah Ah! Drinking, that word ‘Alcohol ‘. It came in the form of Australian ‘larger’. As life on board started to become a bit boring, beer consumption went up and with 3 bars to pick from we soon got into trouble with the Master of Arms. Threatening to lock us up in the brig (jail) if we didn’t go quietly to bed now! Next evening, we found we were banned from all three bars.
The Tropics were very hot and humid with no aircon down below it was too hot to sleep. So, the crew laid out mattresses in rows right across the top sun deck and a marker rope ran for and aft as a divider, males one side, females the other, supposedly!! Mind you it was dark and hard to see where you were?
Trouble one day the ships sewerage pumps broke down and of course we being on the lowest deck got flooded. It was flowing freely along all the passageways on the lower deck. Can you imagine all that was flowing passed our cabin and the smell of it. Now I know why we had to step over a 10” high ledge to enter into our cabins. Anyway, it didn’t take the ships maintenance crew long to fix the problem and a big clean up operation carried out. In the meantime, we were entertained in one of the lounges (shush” free beers). A few days later we entered Australian waters.
We arrived in the Port of Fremantle Western Australia on the 3rd October 1955 after 6 weeks at sea on board the P.O. Ship Orontees, a 40,000-ton ship with migrants from England. On arrival at Fremantle docks we were meet by the Country Women’s Association (CWA) who were going to show us around Perth a bit, but first we had to see our first Australian steam train. We had to catch the steam train to Perth. So, we walked across some spare ground to the railway station or that’s what they called it, there was nothing there apart from a big wooden sign saying Freemantle. Now looking out across open grassland with a few scrubby trees, appears this great big steam engine train with a cow catcher on the front and a great big light mounted up high at the front and to fill the picture “clang, clang” went the sound of an equally big bell. I’m looking around for the cowboys and Indians? Anyway, it wasn’t far to ride into Perth, then a full day’s sightseeing.
Swan river cruise and the now famous Kings Park with all it colourful native plants and trees and animals, such as Kangaroos, lizards and plenty of very colourful birds. All this thanks to the Country Women’s Association (CWA) who took us on sight seeing at each capital city, e.g., Adelaide, South Australia, Melbourne Victoria, Sydney NSW. Sydney was our final destination, “surely this calls for celebrations, more than tea or coffee” and yes, we did, somehow, we found out about the ‘Captains bar’ on the upper deck and no one had informed the barman there that he was not to serve us ‘Little Brothers’. Well, when we docked in Sydney early next morning, we must have been the sickest green looking poms to ever land in Sydney harbour.
On arrival in Sydney, we were taken by bus to the training farm near Cabramatta, welcome in and allocated our sleeping bunks, instructed on the farm rules, etc and rostered on the farm working list. If you wanted to leave the training farm you had to request permission, e.g., go to the local store, about 45 minutes’ walk along a dirt road through swampy land. A very scary walk for new chum city boys and all the after dark sounds of who knows what is lurking all around in the bush to bite or sting you (very scary for us ‘city boys, the sounds of who knows what lurking all around, to bit or sting, just let your imagination loose!).
Jacques riding on horse without saddle, 1955
John the store owner was most kind to us, even to letting me drive his old truck into town (Cabramatta) with a bunch of Little Brothers Boys in the back.
Farming livestock training, cows, horse, goats and sheep which end bites or kicks who is boss? Mostly you find out who when you start your horse-riding lessons. Milking by hand had its on “shits”, don’t forget the leg rope foot in the bucket but don’t get pissed off, we all like our milk to be pure! The goats come across quite friendly but never, never turn you back of them. Watch out for the geese, ganders, they like to call your bluff!
Jacques milking the cow, 1955
Departing the training farm at Cabramatta to catch a train in Sydney’s main country rail head ‘Pitt Street’ Station heading for the country town of Kamarah, NSW. I walk off the station into the main road and opposite is the little single fronted Post Office, not another sole in sight then in the distance clouded in dust appears this old try truck. “Good day are you, Jack?” “Yes”, “Then throw your case onboard and jump in. I’m Don”. No more no less talk until we arrive at the first gate and then only a quick look at me and the gate. I got the message.
Don was a very quiet man, who didn’t waste time on extra words, he was a bachelor about to start courting a young lady living near Nowra, NSW so once he thought I was capable and reliable enough he would take off for a weekend (or more). This left me in complete charge. Lie in bed later (which didn’t work out well getting up later, the early morning cool was gone).
The sheep were slow to move the dogs were cranky and left me to go for a swim in the nearest dam. Then the whole flock of sheep followed the dogs, the horse wanted to go home, what else could I do but jump in the dam myself! Next day I was up at sunrise, but in the evening, I could turn the battery radio on to pop music and have a hot bath instead of cold showers… .
If you want to know more about Jaques’s life in Australia, please contact BBM for more information.
Jacques on his first motor bike, 1958
Newspaper article about Jacque’s heroic actions, 1992