by Terry Waite
Enzo groaned. ‘How big is the canoe?’ he asked.
‘You take three trip,’ said the enterprising guide.
Here Sir Archie intervened and with some careful diplomacy (to which he was well accustomed, having married Lady Veronika), he finally got the price down to $550.
It turned out that the two crew members waiting behind with the boat had also been scared by a Komodo Dragon and had returned post haste to the ship. On hearing the news and having correctly determined his bearings, Captain Peché dispatched another small boat to collect the stranded adventurers. This time the boat went to the correct landing-stage for entry to the Island and was waiting there, while Enzo was parting with his dollars.
‘Well,’ said Albert when he and Alice had safely returned to the protection of the ship, ‘I bet they’ve seen nowt like that in the Co-op.’
Alice pulled a face. ‘And wouldn’t want to neither,’ she responded. ‘Dreadful smelly creatures.’
The twin sisters were less condemnatory.
‘It was a real adventure,’ said Petra to Philippa. ‘Very exciting. But I have to say, I do prefer Buster and Dudley.’
And with that, the good ship set sail for the next destination on her World Cruise.
42
Admiral Benbow Harrington was worried. Although he was well pleased with the Golden Handshake, it had some rather severe defects. The steering gear was by no means functioning as it ought, and the breakdown of the navigational equipment was an added concern. Captain Peché seemed sanguine enough about matters, but then the Captain did have Italian blood, and making the impossible work, after a fashion, was part of the Italian genius. They were now on the other side of the world, approaching Australia, and still had a long way to go before they returned to the safety of Southend-on-Sea.
To the Admiral’s great relief, the visits to Darwin and Cairns passed off without incident. All passengers who wished to, were able to visit the Great Barrier Reef and there was a general spirit of satisfaction on board. But there was always a nagging fear in the back of the Admiral’s mind which surfaced from time to time. However, as both Captain Peché and the Staff Captain seemed reasonably contented, he ignored his anxiety. The Chief Engineer was never happy with anything, and so he discounted his opinion about the Handshake, which was far from favourable. The entry into Sydney Harbour was nothing short of a triumph. The Golden Handshake behaved impeccably and they were able to secure a berth by the Harbour Bridge, within sight of the Opera House. This very favourable position more than made up for some of the difficulties previously experienced, as passengers delighted in their new, and most civilised, surroundings.
It was a bright sunny morning and Albert and Alice were sitting on deck after breakfast. They had received a message from Cousin George, who had emigrated to Australia on a Ten Pound Passage thirty years previously. Since he left Grimsby he had not returned to the town. In fact, he had not even returned to the United Kingdom. Alice had kept in touch with him over the years, and had mentioned that they would be passing through Sydney on a World Cruise and hoped that they might meet. He responded by saying that he would keep a lookout for the Golden Handshake and contact them when they arrived, which he did. It was decided that they would meet outside the entrance to the dockside at midday, and George would take them to his home for lunch.
‘I won’t know him after all these years,’ said Albert as he gazed across at the bridge. ‘By go, Alice!’ he exclaimed. ‘Look at that!’
Alice looked in the direction he was pointing and saw several individuals making their way over the bridge. Not by the conventional route along the roadway, but over one of the gigantic struts that supported the structure. Alice turned her head away.
‘Some folk are plain daft,’ she remarked. ‘I bet they pay through the nose to make that trip. More fool them.’
Albert reverted to the topic of his long-departed cousin.
‘I’ve no idea what he does, Alice. He’s probably retired by now. When he left Grimsby he was working as assistant to a milkman and had to be up at the crack of dawn.’
‘Well,’ said Alice, ‘he’s never told us much in his letters. He was never one for writing. We don’t have any photographs either. Never mind, we’ll find out sooner or later.’
At midday the Balcony Suite couple left the ship and walked the short distance to the port exit. There were several people milling around there, clearly looking for friends or relatives. As the luxury cruise ship the Regent Voyager was berthed ahead of the Handshake, there were also many passengers from that ship waiting to meet people. Mr Fennington Barley, the dance host, greeted them as he walked out with both Mrs Guttenburg and Mrs Golightly.
‘We’re off to lunch,’he said as he saw Albert and Alice. ‘It makes a change from dining on board.’
Aye, thought Albert cannily to himself. ‘An expensive change, no doubt.’
‘I wish we knew what George looked like,’ said Alice when several minutes had passed and there was no sign of the long-departed cousin. Just as she said this, a distinguished-looking individual, wearing a tailored suit with a red carnation in his buttonhole, approached them.
‘Albert?’ he questioned.
‘Aye, it is,’ said Albert.
Before either could say anything further they were swept out of the hall. In the roadway stood a gleaming Mercedes and they were both ushered into the back.
‘By go, you’ve done well,’ said Albert, as the suited individual slipped into the driving seat and they glided away from the docks. ‘You’ve not picked up the Aussie lingo, either.’
George spoke with what Alice described as BBC English and without a trace of the accent of Down Under.
‘How’s Annie?’ asked the driver as they cruised out of town.
Alice and Albert looked at each other.
‘Annie?’ queried Alice, wondering to whom he was referring.
The only Annie she could think of was Annie Ainsworth who used to work in Woolworth’s - and surely George would not remember her, although they might have been at school together.
‘I’ve not seen her for many years,’ replied Alice. ‘She married Tom Ainsworth and went to live in Wigan.’
‘She did?’ said the driver, clearly surprised. ‘Wigan?’ I always thought she lived in Guildford.’
‘No,’ said Alice, ‘it was certainly Wigan. I don’t think she ever went South. But what about you, George? How is Jennifer?’
‘Jennifer?’ echoed George. Never in his life had he heard of anyone named Jennifer. ‘I don’t remember a Jennifer,’ said George as he accelerated out of town.
‘But surely you married the girl!’ said Albert, now as puzzled as the driver.
Albert looked up and could see George looking intently at them in the driving mirror.
‘You are Albert, aren’t you?’ he asked.
‘Right, I am,’ said Albert.
‘And you are Lizzie, aren’t you?’ he asked next, addressing Alice.
‘Lizzie!’ exclaimed Alice. ‘Not at all. I’m Alice Hardcastle and have been for many a year.’
‘Hardcastle,’ repeated the driver. ‘Hardcastle, did you say? Good Lord, there’s been a terrible mistake. I’m supposed to meet my Cousin Albert Newman and his wife Lizzie from Caterham in Surrey. We’ve not met for over fifty years but I have to say you look just like him. He’s been cruising on the Voyager. Perhaps you have met him?’
Albert informed George that they were on a different ship, the Golden Handshake, and they too were cruising around the world.
George released his foot from the accelerator and drew into the side of the road.
‘I’m terribly sorry,’ he apologised. ‘We have both made an awful mistake. We must get back to the terminus immediately.’ He swung the car round and headed back for the city.
By the time they returned to the terminal building the crowd had lessened somewhat as it was well past one in the afternoon and most people were at lunch on board or ashore. It did not take too l
ong to track down the other George and the other Albert who, because of the long wait, had met each other and were trying to work out where their respective cousins had got to.
‘Well,’ said Alice, when they had boarded the bus to take them to Cousin George’s home. ‘What a mix-up.’
Cousin George, who had been thoroughly assimilated into Aussie culture, was unperturbed. ‘That’s OK, mate’ he said. ‘No big deal. In fact, I know that bloke who picked you up. He runs a chain of betting shops. Came out years ago like me, but did a bit better! He’s lucky not to be in jail.’
Albert laughed. ‘Well, George,’ he said, ‘as one English chap once said, “All’s well that ends well”.’
‘Shakespeare may have said “all’s well that ends well”, but Aussies say “she’ll be right”.’
And with that they all went out for lunch.
There was a tinge of sadness in the air as Captain Sparda stood on the bridge and watched the tug prepare to guide the Golden Handshake out of the harbour. The visit to Sydney had been a great success. The Admiral, together with several senior staff and a goodly number of passengers, had been fortunate enough to obtain tickets for the opera, and apart from some minor grumbles about the number of steps to climb and the lack of comfortable seating, everyone was well pleased with the performance. Appropriately, it was The Pirates of Penzance that was being performed, and afterwards the whole party took Enzo out for a drink as he was still rather depressed about the Komodo incident and had received yet another reprimand from the Hotel Manager.
Norma and Graham Trotter had managed to link up with the local Ludo Club and were fêted as was appropriate to their status in the Ludo world.
The only people not to step ashore were the New Zealand twins, who said that they had had quite enough of Australia and were content to stay on board and have a rest, which they did. The visit to Komodo, albeit interesting, had been a little taxing, they admitted. New Zealand was to be the next stop and the twins could not wait to get there.
‘It’s a lovely country,’ they said to anyone and everyone who would listen.
43
It was early morning when the Handshake arrived in the Bay of Islands. The ship anchored in the bay and Enzo informed passengers that they would be able to go ashore in a tender that had been hired for the day. As it was a reasonably-sized boat it could take at least forty passengers each trip and deposit them for the day in Russell, a picturesque seaside village.
‘I never thought the day would come when I would set foot on the other side of the world,’ said Albert, as he and his wife clambered gingerly out of the tender and onto the landing-stage. ‘By gum, luv, it’s been a rum voyage but well worth it.’
The warm sun and cheery atmosphere of Russell made everyone feel better and helped them forget some of the more unfortunate happenings of the past weeks.
‘Look at that,’ said Albert when they stepped off the wooden walkway onto dry land. He was pointing at a hotel immediately opposite, named the Duke of Marlborough. It had an attractive wooden balcony and an outside dining area. ‘By go, Alice, I like this place.’
The pathway, lined with small shops, was full of visitors from the Golden Handshake buying postcards, trying on hats and topping up with sun lotion. Albert and Alice sat on a wooden bench and watched the comings and goings. Sir Archie and Lady Veronika passed by and Sir Archie politely nodded to them.
‘Lovely day, Mr Hardcastle.’
‘Aye, it is an’ all,’ nodded Albert. ‘All I need now is a Brown Ale and it would be perfect.’
Next to approach was Mr Fennington Barley, who seemed to have added to his menagerie, for not only was he accompanied by Mrs Dora Guttenburg and Mrs Golightly, but the elderly Mrs Ellis had also joined the party. They stopped in front of Albert and Alice.
‘Quite an outing for you,’ said Albert after he and Mr Barley had exchanged pleasantries.
‘It’s a delight to be in such a place,’ Fennington replied. ‘Reminds me of the summer days we used to get in England. Look,’ he said to Albert, ‘as you can see, I am a bit outnumbered. What about Alice and yourself joining us for lunch at the hotel there.’
‘It’s a bit posh for me,’ said Albert, thinking of the fact that there would be a free lunch available on board the Handshake.
‘Nonsense,’ said Fennington briskly. ‘We can all sit on the veranda and it’s not too expensive. We have already taken a look at the menu.’
‘A lovely idea, Mr Barley,’ said Alice, who had remained quiet for some time. ‘That would be most acceptable.’
‘I’ve no idea why they called this place after the Duke of Marlborough,’ said Fennington as they settled themselves around a table for six.
At an adjacent table, Sir Archie and Lady Veronika - frowning as ever - were perusing the menu.
‘He was the grandfather of Winston Churchill, you know,’ said Sir Archie, overhearing the conversation.
‘Come and join us,’ said Fennington, who was clearly in an expansive mood. ‘Pull the table up.’
Before Lady Veronika could object, Sir Archie had leaped to his feet and, together with Fennington, brought the whole group together.
‘Russell used to be known as “the Hell Hole of the Pacific”,’ continued Sir Archie, who had clearly been doing his research into this part of New Zealand.
‘What!’ exclaimed Albert. ‘This place a hell-hole? Whoever said that wants to visit Widnes.’
Sir Archie laughed. ‘I admit you wouldn’t think it was once a place with a terrible reputation. It was a whaling station and a centre of drinking and prostitution. A chap named Johnny Johnson bought this hotel and renamed it after the Duke of Marlborough, who was then the richest man in the world. He hoped that such a name might bring a bit of respectability to the town.’
‘Well,’ said Albert, ‘it’s a grand little place.’
And with that remark he ordered a Brown Ale and, feeling so contented within himself, bought drinks for the whole table. As for the menu - well, as far as Albert and Alice were concerned, there was no contest. Fish and chips it was to be, with mushy peas. The whole table agreed with the choice and so it was fish and chips for eight on the veranda of the Duke of Marlborough. A perfect day.
Back on board, as it was a mild evening, Radley Duvet had arranged another buffet on deck. The part-time musicians were summoned and there was eating and dancing late into the night. By this time in the voyage, the ship had settled down. Friendships had been forged and disasters overcome. Now the whole ship’s company looked forward to a clear run home, firstly across the vast Pacific Ocean when there would be several days at sea without sight of land, and then onwards back eventually to Southend-on-Sea, a place that seemed a million miles away from the Bay of Islands.
There was one more port of call before striking out across the mighty Pacific, and that was Napier in New Zealand. This was the one place that the New Zealand twins had been looking forward to so much. Their home was not too far distant from Napier and they intended to arrange for a local coach company to meet the ship and take some passengers to see the delights of their home region.
‘We shall arrive just in time for the Art Deco Festival,’ said Petra to Admiral Benbow, as they were taking tea together. ‘Napier was flattened by an earthquake in the 1930s and was rebuilt in Art Deco style.’
‘It’s a lovely place,’ said Philippa. ‘Our cousin always bought his striped cricket blazers there. They are made locally out of the best New Zealand wool. You must get one yourself, Admiral. You would look very handsome in it.’
‘Yes,’ insisted Petra, ‘you must. You must also go to the Long Late Lunch, Admiral. Mr Pask, a very nice gentleman who started a winery nearby, puts on a dinner for almost a thousand people who all sit at one table. Can you believe that, Admiral? One thousand people all sitting down to a hot meal.’
The Admiral said that it sounded most impressive, and made the tasks of the galley staff on the Golden Handshake seem relatively simple.
&n
bsp; The docks at Napier were not particularly impressive. Two or three coaches were on hand to ferry passengers the mile or so into town where the Art Deco Festival was in full swing. Mr Robert Jones, the passenger who had been photographed playing cricket, was extremely keen to get into town as, in conversation with the twins, he had heard of the shop where authentic cricket blazers could be bought and he was determined to get one. He was first on the coach and occupied the front seat, giving him a fine view of the road ahead. A local resident, Mr Derek Lamb (a most appropriate name for a New Zealander, thought Albert), had heard about the visit of the Golden Handshake and, as he was the owner of a travel company, had been able to arrange a most favourable deal for hire of the coaches. It transpired that Mr Lamb was originally from Scotland and, coincidentally, was a distant relative of Angus the Chief Engineer. Angus agreed with Mike Tucker that, before the ship sailed, Derek Lamb and his wife would be invited on board for dinner.
Shortly after lunch, the first coach set off to travel the short distance into town. Members of the crew who were not on duty were permitted to travel on the transport, provided there was space available, and as Udi had a couple of hours free in the afternoon, he was allowed on the first bus out as there was just one spare place. Passengers always got priority, of course. Derek Lamb was there to see them off and had to put up with the rather strained humour of the resident comedian, Felix de Barkley, who, when greeting Derek, asked him if had brought his dog along. Derek eventually got the joke and politely laughed. Albert and Alice, who always tried to get the front seat of the coach, were thwarted this time as the elderly Bob Jones had commandeered it and so they had to be content with a seat further back.
As the coach travelled along the sea-front, Enzo, who had never been to this part of the world previously, gave a commentary of sorts. He had spent the previous evening swotting up on the internet and thus was able to trot out a few random facts and figures.
