At that moment Mr Armellini, one of the Maltese passengers, approached Bridie and Giuseppe, holding a camera. ‘Miss O’Grady, can I take a photograph of you and your friend?’
‘Why yes, thank you, Mr Armellini,’ said Bridie politely.
Giuseppe was thrilled to have his picture taken with Bridie. He grabbed his shirt and flung it on as Bridie rose from her seat to stand beside him. Giuseppe could feel Bridie’s thin blouse through his damp shirt on his cool arm. Smiling broadly at the camera lens they were a contrasting couple: Bridie neat as a pin, and Giuseppe with wet tousled hair, a crumpled shirt and bare brown legs, holding his certificate. Both had big spontaneous smiles and the moment captured them very much at ease with each other.
‘I would like a copy of the photograph, Mr Armellini,’ said Giuseppe.
‘I can arrange that,’ he answered.
They each received a copy of the photograph several days later and it became Giuseppe’s most prized possession.
Later that evening, after King Neptune retired to the deep, there was music and dancing. Several of the Italian men brought out their accordions and mandolins and everyone joined in singing the old favourites. Giuseppe recognised some of the songs he’d heard in Naples. When everyone started dancing, the purser, now back in his usual uniform, asked Bridie to dance. Then when they had finished dancing, it was quite natural for Giuseppe also to take her in his arms and join the other dancers. For those too brief moments, as he held Bridie close, he thought again how lovely she was.
*
There was great excitement on board the Ricconigi as it approached the coast of Western Australia. Some of the passengers were disembarking at Fremantle, the first port of call. The ship anchored some distance from the shore and a motor launch brought immigration officials out to it. All the passengers were summoned to the main deck to go through the immigration process. That was when Giuseppe heard some of the passengers whispering about a notorious dictation test.
‘What does this mean?’ Giuseppe asked Antonio.
‘Something to do with speaking English, maybe,’ said his friend, shrugging his shoulders.
Mr Armellini, standing next to them, shook his head. ‘It’s the Australian government’s way of rejecting migrants they think are unsuitable.’
‘But my English is still poor,’ protested Giuseppe. ‘I might fail.’
‘The test might not even be in English.’
‘You mean it will be in Italian,’ said a relieved Antonio.
‘It could be in any language,’ said Mr Armellini. ‘If they don’t want you, they will make it impossible for you to pass.’
‘But that is so unfair,’ protested Giuseppe.
‘Let’s hope they like the look of us,’ said Antonio. However his fears, and those of the other passengers, were put to rest when no one from the Ricconigi was told to sit the test.
When Giuseppe reached the head of the queue he greeted the official with a smile, but was quickly rebuffed.
‘What part of Italy are you from?’ the official asked brusquely.
‘Sicily, signor. Sir,’ he answered politely.
The official glared at him and, looking down at his paperwork, muttered, ‘Another wog come to take the jobs of good Aussie workers. I reckon you lot aren’t much better than the Abos.’
Giuseppe didn’t understand all the immigration official’s words, but he knew that he was not speaking words of welcome. He hoped that the rest of Australia was not going to be like this. Clutching the piece of paper he’d been handed by the officer, he joined Antonio, who was standing with Bridie.
‘Are you coming ashore with us to explore our new country, Bridie? I have my landing permit,’ said Giuseppe happily.
‘Yes, please. I’d feel safer with two escorts,’ she said with a laugh.
They found the streets around the port very flat, but there were some imposing and solid buildings. They took a tram along High Street, alighted and walked back towards the harbour looking in shop windows.
Giuseppe was startled at the prices of goods and it began to concern him that he had very little money. Unlike Bridie and Antonio, no relative or friend would be meeting him to help him find somewhere to stay and get work, as there would have been in New York. How was he going to live? He could see fishing boats in the harbour and he wondered if he should stay in Fremantle and try and get a job on one of them. But the thought of having to leave Bridie a second before he had to made him give up that idea.
It took the ship three days to reach Melbourne, where most of the Italians were disembarking. In all that time Giuseppe thought about how he would support himself until he got work. Eventually he came to a decision.
As they met for their regular morning walk around the deck before breakfast, Giuseppe turned to Bridie.
‘Bridie, can I ask for your help when we go ashore in Melbourne?’
Seeing his serious face, Bridie nodded. ‘Of course, Giuseppe.’
He reached into his pocket and took his grandmother’s ring from its little yellow envelope and showed it to Bridie. He explained that it had belonged to his nonna, and that although she had wanted to keep it until Giuseppe came back to the island to find a bride, she had decided that it would be of more use to him if she gave it to him straight away.
‘I have very little money. I do not want to sell the ring, because it is all that my nonna had to give me, but I must. Will you help me to sell it, Bridie?’ Giuseppe had looked up the words he needed and practised what he wanted to say to her.
Bridie took the little ring and looked at its worn band and little red stone.
‘It’s so sad that you have to sell something that your grandmother gave you. Are you sure that you really want to?’
‘I have no choice. I asked Antonio to help me, but he said to ask you because he doesn’t speak English, and you will get a better price.’
As soon as the ship tied up in Melbourne, the two of them set out to find a pawn shop. It wasn’t very hard. There were quite a few around the dock area. But none of the pawn shop owners thought that the ring was worth very much at all.
‘The band is badly worn and that stone is only a garnet. It’s not worth more than its gold weight,’ one of the pawn brokers explained.
‘How much then?’ asked Bridie.
‘Two pounds.’
Bridie explained to Giuseppe that two pounds was not a great deal of money, but it would be enough to tide him over for a while, if he was careful.
‘Then I must do it,’ he said and tears immediately came to his eyes at the thought of selling the ring that had been so precious to his nonna. ‘It is all she had to give me,’ he said as he handed it over.
They walked slowly back to the ship saying very little, but both of them were impressed by the hustle and bustle around them. Trams rattled along the streets, competing for space with numerous motor cars. The shops were busy and full of exciting things to buy.
‘It looks as though Australia is a wealthy country,’ said Giuseppe as they climbed the gangplank. ‘We will both do well here.’
‘You are probably right. Giuseppe, will you excuse me, I need to go and lie down for a while,’ said Bridie. ‘I’m tired from all our walking.’
Giuseppe watched her turn and go towards her cabin.
I do not have her for much longer, he thought sadly to himself. I will miss her.
It was dawn as they approached Sydney. The two dark arms of the northern and southern headlands of the harbour emerged in the misty light. Giuseppe stood alone at the railing, wondering what lay beyond the embrace of the cliffs where a line of white foam marked the crashing waves.
As they sailed through the magnificent heads, he caught his breath. Not only was the harbour spectacularly beautiful, but he could see inlets and bays and rocky points where he knew lobsters and rock fish would hide.
He returned to the stuffy cabin that had been his home for so many weeks, grabbed his suitcase and headed back to the deck. The passageways were cr
owded, but he quickly found Antonio.
‘We will keep in touch,’ said Antonio. ‘When it is the right time to head to the cane fields, I will let you know.’
‘That sounds good,’ said Giuseppe.
On their way to the upper deck they discovered a knot of irate Maltese confronting the purser and demanding to see the ship’s captain.
‘I think they are complaining about how badly they’ve been treated. More like cargo than paying passengers,’ whispered Antonio. ‘They want a refund! I don’t think that will happen. Maybe they should take their story to the newspapers. Let’s watch the ship dock.’
Already the railing was lined with people watching the steamer manoeuvre towards the sprawling dockyards of Woolloomooloo. The Ricconigi swung alongside the long wharf. Giuseppe saw crowds jammed onto the dock, fighting for space with motor cars and trucks and even a small train line.
He felt a tap on his shoulder and he turned around to see Bridie, dressed in a bright blue outfit with a small hat perched on her auburn ringlets. Her cheeks were pink with excitement. Giuseppe made room for her to squeeze against the rail.
There was a great long blast from the ship’s horn and the rattle of the dropping anchor chain as fat ropes were swung down to the wharf to secure the vessel. People along the wharf could now recognise friends and family on the ship and there was much waving and shouting and dabbing at tears. To be heard above the melee Giuseppe leaned closer to Bridie’s ear.
‘You see Ronan? Your fiancé?’ He used the word she’d taught him.
She shook her head. ‘Not yet, but I am sure he will find me. Look, the gangplank is being lowered.’
Bridie turned and began edging through the crowd, and Giuseppe followed her through the press of passengers heading the same way. Ahead she stopped and turned back to Giuseppe and waved to him.
‘I am coming!’ he said. More and more people crowded towards the gangplank eager to disembark. Giuseppe tried to step around a woman and her children and their bags but the woman pushed in front of him and, surrounded by her excitable children, blocked his way.
When Giuseppe finally reached the top of the gangplank, he spotted Bridie’s blue hat in the crowd below on the dock. He watched as a man waved to her and in a moment they were embracing. And then she was gone.
He pushed down the gangplank and through the knots of reunions, tears and laughter, past those still desperately looking for their relatives but Bridie was nowhere to be seen.
He couldn’t believe that she’d just vanished, disappeared from his life without even a proper farewell. Feeling despondent, he went to the cavernous shed at the end of the wharf, where he saw Antonio talking to another Italian.
‘I thought you’d got lost. Did you say goodbye to Bridie?’ asked Antonio.
Giuseppe shrugged. ‘No, I missed her. She’s gone and I don’t even know where to.’
Antonio placed a sympathetic hand on Giuseppe’s arm. ‘It is best this way. She has her life. She asked me to give this to you.’ He handed Giuseppe a little envelope.
Giuseppe recognised it straight away and hurried to look inside. It was indeed Celestina’s ring.
‘Giuseppe, she gave me this note, too.’
Giuseppe opened it.
I saw how sad you were to part with this ring, so when I told you I was resting, I went back to the pawn shop, and bought it back for you. It is a thank you gift for all your kindness to me on the voyage. I would have been very lonely without your cheerful company. I hope that someday you will be able to give this ring to the girl you intend to marry. I think she will be a very lucky girl. All the best for your new life, Bridie.
Giuseppe didn’t understand everything that Bridie had written, but he knew enough to be able to explain to Antonio what she had done.
‘What a kind woman. She will make a wonderful wife, no doubt. But cheer up. This is Vincenzo, a distant cousin of mine.’
Giuseppe shook the young man’s hand.
‘Welcome to Australia,’ said Vincenzo.
‘Vincenzo’s taking us to his uncle who imports Italian wine. He has an office in his warehouse not far from here. He wants us to come for a drink to celebrate our arrival! Come on, you never know who you might meet in our new country!’
Antonio linked his arm through Giuseppe’s and the three young men sauntered along the waterfront.
Carrying their cases, dressed in their best, Giuseppe and Antonio followed Vincenzo along the wharf to Vincenzo’s uncle’s office and warehouse. Although Giuseppe was still feeling despondent about not saying goodbye properly to Bridie, the enthusiasm of the others was infectious. And he was feeling strangely at home. The salty smell of the air, the bright blue sky and sunshine, and the activity around the harbour made him think that he might be able to find a job somewhere around here. He’d noticed men on the wharves doing the backbreaking work of loading and unloading cargo. He could see houses crowded together on the hill behind the wharves. The scene almost reminded him of his fishing village, although instead of the backdrop of wild exposed hillsides, here there were solid multi-storey buildings. But it wasn’t the city that interested Giuseppe as much as the waterfront.
The minute they walked into Vincenzo’s uncle’s darkened storage shed, Giuseppe and Antonio began to sigh. They could hear mandolin music and smell the rich tomato aromas of pasta asciutta. After the terrible food on the Ricconigi, their mouths began to water.
They entered a large back room, lined with crates and large wooden barrels and shelves stacked with wine bottles. In the centre of the room a long table was spread with food. Along the table empty chianti bottles wreathed in raffia had candles sticking out of them, wax running down their sides in fat, greasy rivulets. An older man was playing a sentimental tune on a mandolin, which wrenched at their hearts. There were a lot of people sitting at the table enjoying the food and wine. A plump, jolly-looking man waved at them to take a seat and told them to help themselves. Vincenzo took Giuseppe and Antonio over to meet him.
‘This is my uncle, Giovanni Bruscioli,’ he said. ‘Uncle, here are Giuseppe and Antonio, who have just arrived in Australia today.’
‘Welcome, welcome,’ responded Uncle Giovanni. ‘Help yourself to whatever you want. Introduce yourselves to my friends. Maltese, Italian, they all know each other and you will soon know them, too.’
Giuseppe quickly did as he was instructed. The pasta was delicious. If he could eat like this every day in Australia, he would be very happy. Spearing a piece of macaroni, he asked: ‘Who made this? It is as good as the food my nonna makes.’
‘Signor Rizzo, a friend of my uncle’s,’ replied Vincenzo. ‘He started a pasta factory not far from here in Stanley Street. It’s very successful. And if you are lucky, our friend Sando, here, will make you a beautiful sauce to go with it – and serenade you as well!’
Sando, the mandolin player, acknowledged the compliment.
‘This is a wonderful welcome party,’ Giuseppe said. ‘How fortunate for you to have family here, Vincenzo.’
‘I never knew my uncle until I came to Australia, but now I know how generous he is. He gives away his money and finds jobs for people who need help. Every Friday he has a party here in his warehouse. You will always be welcome,’ said Vincenzo.
Antonio nudged Giuseppe. ‘You could ask for a job.’
Giuseppe glanced at Giovanni, who was pouring glasses of red wine from a long-necked dark green bottle. He felt too shy to ask Giovanni about work while he was his guest.
‘I’ll wait a little while.’
‘No, let’s talk to him now,’ said Antonio.
So Giuseppe and Antonio wandered over to where Giovanni was sitting. He greeted them effusively, as though he had not seen them for ages.
‘Sit. Eat, eat – or Sando will be offended. Tell me, why have you come to Australia? What are your plans? Where are you going? You have family here?’
‘My cousin and my uncle are in north Queensland, a place called Innisfail,’ said Antonio. �
�Cane cutting.’
‘Ah, cutting sugar cane. Seasonal work, very hard work,’ said Giovanni. ‘But makes big muscles. I know some good boxers who used to cut cane. You are going to be a cane cutter?’
Antonio shrugged. ‘It’s a start. Maybe I’ll look for something else.’
‘What will you do in Australia, Giuseppe? What did you do in the old country?’
‘I am a fisherman.’
Giovanni nodded. ‘You will like Sydney. The harbour is full of seafood. There is so much that you can take oysters right off the rocks and from the pylons of the wharves. Sando cooks marinara all the time.’
‘At home I hunt for big fish, the tonno.’
‘Do you have family here in Australia?’
Giuseppe shook his head. ‘No, I am alone. Can you tell me where is the best place to go for fishing?’
‘Right here. All you need is a boat!’ roared Giovanni.
‘I cannot afford a boat. But I can work for someone.’
Giovanni dropped his cheerful tone and grew serious. ‘Are you a good fisherman?’
Giuseppe nodded vehemently. ‘Very good. I don’t know the waters here but I can learn quickly. The sea is in my blood,’ he said earnestly.
Giovanni leaned back in his chair. ‘Have some more wine, Giuseppe. I will ask around for you. Come back in a few days, okay? Where are you two going to stay?’
Giuseppe looked at Giovanni and suddenly realised that he had just landed in a strange country with only a couple of pounds in his pocket.
‘We haven’t found a place yet.’ He looked hopefully at Antonio.
Giovanni swallowed a mouthful of red wine. ‘I suggest you both go to Signora Pagano’s. She has a boarding house in a place called The Rocks. You can easily walk to it from here. Tell her I sent you. I’ll see you in a few days, Giuseppe, unless you find some work before then.’ He smiled at both young men.
The Winter Sea Page 6
