A Tale of Two Migrants (Part 2)
As mentioned in the last issue of this magazine, this is a continuation of a story of two migrants, both of whom are residents of the Hills District, who shared much in common back in the 1950s.
Continuing Hilary’s story of her travelling to Australia on the “Fairsea” in 1958, and her early days in Australia, her story continues on after boarding the ship to emigrate to Australia only to find that all of the family’s belongings had been lost in a fire whilst in storage.
Here is the remainder of her experiences in her own words.
“Word soon got around that there was a small family needing clothes. The generosity of people was most humbling , clothes came from everywhere. Even immigrants were expected to “dress” for dinner, so taffeta dresses were given to my mother and dad had very smart suits, all on loan. When we reached Aden, my mother bought a bolt of calico fabric with colourful Arabic children on it and sewed, by hand, a skirt and top.
I loved the sea voyage and participated in the “Crossing the Line” ceremony being one of King Neptune’s servants! I am sure the trip was not as happy for my parents. It appeared we were the only family on board who only had 2 suitcases and no luggage in the hold!!.
When we arrived in Sydney, we had the good fortune to be staying with distant relatives in Enfield.
I remember going down to the docks at Pyrmont as each new ship docked, my father searching for any sign that our luggage may have been delayed and put on another ship, but to no avail.
Finally we were notified that our luggage had been in the fire. In those days insurance was not like it is today and so the compensation was minimal, the biggest loss was photographs, mementos and of course my bike!!!. Both my parents picked themselves up and got jobs within days of arriving.
Mum worked for an engineering company in Burwood, a remark was made to her “Not another Bloody POM”!!! My father got a job for, what was called back then, The Spastic Centre at Mosman and was given the luxury of a company car. He used to have to chaperone “Miss Australia” to various functions, and so, his car had that title on the roof, There was many a disappointed face when he used to drive me to school with that sign on top!!!.
They managed to buy a house and land package at Bass Hill, all the furniture was on time payment, mum made all the curtains, and we were extremely happy. Unfortunately we were only in the country 7 years when my father died of a massive heart attack. However what he and my mother achieved in that 7 years would never had happened if we had disembarked and returned to the life they knew , my mother, God bless her, made the best decision and never regretted it.”
Shows my parents and myself at dinner with me very hard to see sitting between my older sister and another passenger As mentioned in the last issue of this magazine, this is a continuation of a story of two migrants, both of whom are residents of the Hills District, who shared much in common back in the 1950s. Ivor’s note : As this article is titled “A Tale of Two Migrants”.
I thought I had better mention that the second migrant who travelled on the “Fairsea” to Australia at the same age as Hilary, and in the same year (1958), but on a later voyage, was myself. As Hilary mentioned in the last issue of this publication, male and female passengers were segregated.
I shared a cabin with my father and a number of other men whilst my mother and two sisters shared a cabin with another woman and her daughter. My parents became lifelong friends with this family whilst on board and both families settled in Sydney.
As my father was sponsored as a migrant by the Anglican Church we disembarked from the “Fairsea” in Melbourne on the 8th December having left Southampton on the 4th November. (the day before Guy Fawkes Day) I remember looking out at night whilst we were travelling through the Bay of Biscay hoping to see the fireworks in England.
As being only 11 years of age at the time I had no idea that we had travelled too far out at sea to be able to view the fireworks. We only lived in Melbourne for a few months, during a heatwave, and next door to an abattoir with the resultant flies. So, during the following February, we moved to Cabramatta where my mother and my older sister found work and my father found employment as a welder.
I then spent the rest of my childhood and formative years in the Cabramatta area until I met Maree and we moved to Baulkham Hills around 40 years ago.
