by Stuart Kells
On Lion’s Head there are hundreds of lizards. I saw four different kinds, or rather colours: black, green, grey, and the fourth was a bit of a mixture with dark red spots. The grasshoppers are very big, some over four inches long. The top half of the mountain was the hardest to climb; in four or five of the worst places there are chains to help you. From the top you have a magnificent view; it is well worth the climb. Robben Island looks like a small blotch in the ocean. Mac caught a very big butterfly on the very top – it was at least four inches across the wings. There are a lot of big beetles all over the mountain. We saw some very beautiful birds. Their wings were of a brown-red colour and looked semi-transparent.
When we were going back in the tram, it ran off the lines; it took a quarter of an hour to get it on again. We had a cup of tea at Cart-wrights, and then walked around the town a bit and got back to the Bendigo in time for tea. Several people had tried to climb Table Mountain and a few had tried Devil’s Peak but none of them had succeeded, so we were very glad we had followed Mr Moore’s advice.
After tea, Mac and I went for a walk towards Sea Point and, after sunset, I went to Mr Moore’s. I had a cup of tea there and afterwards we went for a walk. We went on the pier, which was quite a decent one. It appears to be made of ferro concrete.
Mr Moore has to visit the prison once a week, at night. I think he is Superintendent. I waited outside while he went in. It was quite a performance. He rang the bell, then I heard several keys turn, and then a light was switched on and a small opening in the door opened. A face appeared and withdrew almost immediately, and a door was opened after some more key turning. Mr Moore stepped in and the Warden saluted. The door was shut and the light went out. The whole performance was repeated when he came out. While I was waiting a Warden asked me what I wanted, but on the mention of Mr Moore’s name he went away. The same thing happened on Wednesday when we were going from the docks to the town in a taxi. We were stopped outside the customs gates, but when the person who stopped us recognised Mr Moore he apologised and let us go through without any delay. When we left the prison we went to Cartwrights and Mr Moore ordered two cups of coffee and a plate of the very best cakes they had. They were very good indeed, the best I had tasted for weeks; in fact, the best I had had since I left home.
As we were walking back we saw a walking stick lying on the pavement. A closer examination revealed two big pools of blood, a cloth cap in a brown paper parcel, and six oranges and a broken bag. We picked up the stick and cap and went to Mr Moore’s office, which was close by, and telephoned the police. I have not heard anything more about it. It may have been a drunken man going home, or back to his ship, who had fallen on his nose or cut himself and, when he had recovered sufficiently, he had gone away leaving his cap, stick and oranges where he had fallen. Mr Moore then walked as far as the ship with me and again wished me the best of luck.
The Bendigo was due to sail at 8pm; this was later postponed to 11pm, and we did not sail much before 12 midnight. When the news was posted that we should not sail before 11pm, Mr Garvie, Mr Morgan, Mr Tomlins and myself went into Cape Town. We bought a good deal of fruit – including some sugar cane, which was very nice – had some lemon squash and soda, and then came back. After the warning blasts on the siren had been given and after the gangway had been taken down, two cabs full of passengers and crew appeared on the dock-side. After some fuss a ladder was lowered and the crew soon climbed up, but two of the passengers were dead drunk. One of them was very violent and began to fight half a dozen people at once, then he fell down and would not get up. When he was pulled to his feet, he could not stand. He was so violent with his arms and with his legs when he was on the ground that somebody had to punch him in the stomach to keep him quiet. He could not climb up the ladder so, after some difficulty, a rope was slipped under his shoulders and he was hauled up amid tremendous laughter. His hat fell off and he banged his face a good deal, but he was eventually hauled on deck and a seaman picked him up and carried him to his cabin. Since then I believe he has been put in the isolation hospital or in irons. The other man had worse luck for, besides losing his hat while being drawn up, two bottles fell out of his pocket into the water.
I bought one film in Cape Town and it was five pence dearer than in England. I saw a camera the same as mine for sale. I am not sure if the lens was as good as mine, but the price was £4.15.0. Mine only cost £3.10.0.
Some people with cameras, when they went through the customs gate, had to either pay twenty-five per cent of the value of the camera or show it when they came back. As I was with Mr Moore, I was not troubled. I think Cape Town is fairly quiet in comparison with other big towns, but the docks are far from quiet; nor is the road from the docks to the town.
I think there are nearly as many Buick cars in Cape Town as there are Fords.
Monday, 2 October 1922
We had a debate last night on ‘Sunday Observance’; it had been postponed several times. I opened the debate and said that as long as a person went to church once a Sunday I agreed with him playing games, as long as it did not interfere with church and as long as there were no matches. After a good discussion, this view was adopted by four votes to three. After the debate was over they all said that they agreed with me. The next debate will be ‘Should the Church Support Wars?’.
Tuesday, 3 October 1922
It is very cold again now, worse luck, but is fairly calm. When I was walking up Adderley Street in Cape Town I saw some books published by The Bodley Head. I think one of them was Sam’s Kid, but I am not quite sure. I met somebody on board the other day who knows Mr Prescott very well.
Wednesday, 4 October 1922
It has been very rough all day. Very cold and it has rained quite a lot, so you can well imagine it has been a rotten day. There is a concert on now but, as I feel rather sick, I have not gone to it. I went down and saw the engines today; they were topping. The propeller shaft must have been at least 180 feet long. I went into the stokehold. It was dark, dirty and very hot. I wonder how the stokers stick it? Mr Tyler gave a lecture this evening on ‘The Bendigo from Keel to Truck’ (the truck is the top of the mast). He was apprenticed to a shipyard before he took up the ministry. It was very interesting.
Tomorrow night Mr Garvie is giving a lecture on ‘Around the World, from Melbourne to Melbourne’. There was a fresh sports committee elected a few days ago as a lot of the old committee got off at Cape Town. A collection was taken at dinner today towards the expenses. From the first sitting of our dining saloon (forty pupils) they got three pence. This shows the state of our finances. The ship has got a heavy list to starboard. It is due to the extra coal we took on board at Cape Town. I should very much like to rewrite this diary, but I am afraid it would take too long. Nearly all the writing has been done in deck chairs, and I can hardly read some of it myself. The food on board is terrible. We had some fish yesterday that was like chewing gum. Every plate was sent back. Oh, for a big plate of Grape-nuts and Devonshire cream. Or a cup of thick chocolate made with milk.
Thursday, 5 October 1922
Still very rough, windy and cold. Do not feel very well, but am not sick. I went to Mr Garvie’s lecture.
Friday, 6 October 1922
It is not as rough today as it was yesterday, but it is still very cold and windy. Last night the waves were sweeping over the deck. They did not come directly over the fo’c’sle deck but, on the port side, I watched them for quite a long time. Mr Garvie’s lecture was very interesting. He went from Melbourne to Sydney and from there to Japan, then to ’Frisco, calling at Honolulu. Then he dodged about America and Canada for several months, stopping at Los Angeles, Niagara, Grand Canyon, New York and several other places. Then to Liverpool and London – a short stay – then France, Germany, Belgium, Spain and many other interesting places. Back to England; he stayed at Norfolk for a few months. Now he is going back to Melbourne. He has travelled about 40,000 miles in two years and three months. Quite a good holiday.
S
aturday, 7 October 1922
There was a very good lecture last night, in the main dining saloon, on big game hunting in Central Africa. The best we have had on the boat. I am writing this on the upper deck, or boat deck. We are only allowed on the stern of this and the vibration is pretty great, so the writing is even worse than usual.
Sunday, 8 October 1922
It is comparatively calm today and slightly warmer. It was ‘Dessert’ day today. That is, we have an apple every other Sunday. That is all the fruit we get. All the pupils are very short of money and they will do almost anything for cash or cigarettes: shirts washed for two pence; collars, one fag each; boots cleaned, one fag a pair or one person cleans them if you will let him use the polish and brush for his own boots. One boy in our cabin will draft out a letter to anybody for two pence. There is some infectious disease on board. I believe it is measles or something like that, nothing very serious.
Monday, 9 October 1922
I did a lot of washing this morning and this afternoon I washed eleven collars, four handkerchiefs and one shirt. That is all I had time to do. There were supposed to be medical examinations, but all the doctor did was to ask my name and destination. I then came up on deck and saw Mr Garvie with a new bottle of ink, so I cleaned my pen and filled. At the rate we are going we shall arrive at Fremantle on Monday next. We have not seen any land, or even a boat, for over a week. You can guess life is very exciting here (peut-etre; I believe there are meant to be some accents in the phrase, but I am hanged if I know where to put them).
Clark McConachy, the Australian billiard champion, is on board. He looks very conceited.
Tuesday, 10 October 1922
There was a lecture last night on ‘How to Keep Fit’ by a Mr Dawson. It was fairly good. It is still cold and windy. It is very hard to wake up in the morning. The atmosphere is so thick that you can almost cut it with a knife. Also there is such a row in the adjoining cabins, and in our cabin as well, that it is very hard to get to sleep before 12 midnight even though you go to berth at 10pm and, besides all this, the clocks are put forward about twenty minutes every day. This is always done in the night, so breakfast is twenty minutes earlier every morning. As there are only men in our part of the ship, we nearly always go in to breakfast in our pyjamas and then go back to the cabin and rest for about an hour – to recover from the exertion of getting up and also from the effects of the food. The food is fairly bad. The sausages we had for breakfast this morning were made out of bacon-rind and potato peelings, or something equally bad. One day last week the meat we had for tea absolutely stank. Nobody could eat it after they smelt it. The favourite vegetable on board is calvalances; they are called cavalanches or avalanches. They are very hard, small, nasty, musty, rotten little beans and the chief use made of them by a lot of the pupils is to throw them at each other. None of the crockery or cutlery is ever clean in our part of the ship, but in the main dining saloon the passengers are treated a lot better. They can get a second helping of anything, while we cannot. Sometimes one or two on the table can manage to get a second helping, or somebody else’s share.
Wednesday, 11 October 1922
It was very rough first thing this morning, but it is slightly calmer this afternoon.
There is going to be the deuce of an examination before anybody is allowed on shore at Fremantle. The whole of the passengers have to queue up and be examined by the medical authorities and again by the immigration authorities.
Thursday, 12 October 1922
There was a very good lecture last night by the Captain on the ‘Blockade’. In the afternoon there was a children’s fancy dress parade. One of the best was a little boy of not more than four years old. He was wearing a small leopard skin, some sandals and a loin cloth – that was all. He was supposed to be the ‘Son of Tarzan’. It is terribly cold today and rough. The waves are from twenty to forty feet high.
A few minutes ago I was sitting on the port side with my back to the sea on a deck chair. The boat rolled rather badly and I and the chair slid gracefully towards the railing. So great was the roll thereof.
Friday, 13 October 1922
Last night, just after I had written about my chair rolling down the deck, I heard a terrific bang. Then there was a scuffle, and from the passage connecting the starboard and port sides of the boat came a crowd of men and women running for their lives. A solid sheet of water about eighteen inches high was quickly overtaking them. They were doomed, for a couple of feet before they reached the railings or even had time to turn the wave overtook them. They were all swept into the scuppers by the railings and some of them were seriously injured. All of them were drenched to the skin. My chair again went skidding towards the railings and as I got to my feet the backwash of the wave caught me and sent me flying. I stopped myself and my only injuries were a small bruise on my left leg and a pair of soaking socks and shoes.
It is very rough this morning. Plates began to slide around the table and several slid off. The waves are huge. Although I am wearing two pairs of socks, pants, vest, waistcoat, coat, sweater and overcoat, besides my ordinary clothes (trousers, shirt etc.), I am very, very cold. If I sit down for any length of time, even in this get up, I turn blue. My hands are blue now and my feet are like blocks of ice.
Saturday, 14 October 1922
It has calmed down a lot today and it is a good deal warmer.
There was a fancy dress parade last night and a dance afterwards. Allen would have enjoyed it very much, as the rolling of the ship compelled the partners to hold on to each other very tightly. It was at first decided to postpone it because of the weather, but when the Captain heard of it he said have it, by all means, as the partners would have a good excuse to cuddle each other. And they did! When Allen reads this he will make a mental note that the Captain is a sport, and he will be right.
We had to get landing cards today, as they are more particular at Fremantle than they were at Cape Town. This applies to all other Australian ports.
The ship used to list to starboard, now she lists heavily to port.
Sunday, 15 October 1922
Last night there was a lecture by an Australian farmer on ‘Farm Life in Australia’. He spoke very well of it. At 7.30pm there was a concert. I stayed till half time, then I came out and had a very interesting talk with Mr Garvie. I happened to show him the letter Allen sent me when he knew I had been accepted and was going to Australia. He was very interested and said that although he had got a brother he never knew what brotherly love was and had never received a letter like that from him all his life, nor from anybody else until he was a good bit older than I was. He thought it was a beautiful letter and that the love that existed, and always will exist, between Allen and my unworthy self was what he had longed for, in main, when he was young.
There was a debate yesterday on ‘Does Drink Cause Poverty?’. It was highly enlightening and it was decided, by vote, that it does not cause poverty by four votes to three.
It is colder again today but not quite so rough.
The albatrosses are marvellous. They have followed us from Cape Town. I do not know where they sleep. There are several species following us, besides some petrels which are also highly interesting. They glide for hours without any movement of their wings, sometimes high and sometimes a few inches above the water. They can maintain a perfectly level position against a very strong head wind and go several times faster than the boat without the slightest movement whatever. They glide up and down and, when they turn near the water, sometimes their wings will just touch the waves like a man on a bike or motorbike putting out his leg when taking a sharp corner or bend. Some of the specimens we have following us are over ten feet across their wings, from tip to tip. While I write I can see them gliding about.
When they see food thrown overboard, they immediately let their legs drop as they are always tucked away when they are flying. Then they settle on the water and eat what they can. I am sure some albatrosses would not look at some of the food we
get served to us. I could spend hours watching them.
Monday, 16 October 1922
Arrived at Fremantle about 10.30am. Our first sight of land was a convict island. We did not see a single boat. I have not yet seen a sailing boat in full sail at sea, but have still got hopes as the journey is not at an end yet. Fremantle is not a bad sized town. Perth is twelve miles inland. I went into Fremantle twice.
Tuesday, 17 October 1922
We do not leave for Adelaide until Thursday at 6am. They have been unloading cargo all night and making an awful row, but I slept through it all. We are going to have our meals in the main dining saloon now as our dining saloon was on the top of a hatchway from which they are now unloading cargo.
There was a terrible struggle on board yesterday to get our passports stamped, as we could not go on shore till this was done. I missed my dinner through it. Last night I saw about twelve sharks. They were in the Swan River and one of them was not more than twenty feet from where I was standing. One person in an adjoining cabin has been selling his clothes to get some money: shoes at 1/6 a pair; socks three pence a pair; shirts one shilling each and so on. In our cabin it is quite as dark at 12 noon as it is at 12 midnight, so we have got to have artificial light all the time. The people in our cabin have slept in their clothes all night; this is quite a common occurrence and the rule rather than the exception.
