THE AUTHOR
My friend, John Mathews has had a distinguished career in epidemiology, and today is an Honorary Professorial Fellow at the University of Melbourne. His early career led him to study kuru disease in New Guinea, leading to later appointments in Oxford and Melbourne. He was the Foundation Director of the Menzies School of Health Research in Darwin from 1985 (and in 2003 a new building was named in his honour). From 1997 to 1999 he was Foundation Director of the CRC for Aboriginal Health. From 1999 to 2004 he was the senior adviser in population health in Canberra, and Deputy Chief Medical Officer for the Australian Government, advising on biosecurity issues, mad-cow disease, antibiotic resistance, SARS, pandemic influenza, and vaccination policy. More recently he has been honorary adviser to the Murdoch Children's Research Institute, the Menzies School of Health Research, and the Institute of Medical Research in Papua New Guinea. Throughout his career he has advised governments, the World Health Organisation, and other agencies on research and public health matters. He has recently undertaken the largest ever study of cancer risks following low dose radiation from CT scans.
THE BACKGROUND
The Melbourne Sun News-Pictorial established, and organised Schoolboy Tours to Great Britain in 1951, 1952, 1953 and 1955. Although the newspaper took public credit (and doubtless covered extensive administration expenses), behind the scenes each lad was "sponsored" by an organisation, typically a municipal council - in my case, the City of Richmond. Initially all lads were from Victoria, but later some South Australian lads travelled under the auspices of the Adelaide Advertiser, and some Western Australian lads travelled under the auspices of the Perth Daily News.
Three of the 1955 tour members were sponsored by the Sun News-Pictorial itself, and John was one of these. (The others: Bill Russell and Bob Turnbull.) In return, John and the other two lads were asked to submit, for publication, reports of their Tour experiences from time to time. John tells how his selection by the newspaper was partly attributable to Australian test cricketer, Neil Harvey. Harvey was a neighbour of the Mathews family, and when the Sun announced a competition to find three "Young Sun" reporters, John was bold enough to enlist Harvey's help. John interviewed Harvey, principally about the 1954-55 Ashes series, and John's report of that interview helped to secure his place in the Tour.
A splendid record of the four Tours has already been published: "Australian Schoolboy Ambassadors", compiled by Errol Chinner and Don David, edited by Richard Telfer, and published in 2002 by Sun Advertiser Youth Travel Association.
That volume incorporates the stories and the anecdotes of the four Tours; this Blog focuses on the 1955 Tour only, and is informed by my memories and experiences of that Tour. But the core text is drawn from the writings of John Mathews. Like me (and the other Travellers), John kept a diary of the trip; unlike me, John won a prize for his efforts. Each of the Travellers was given a diary by the National Bank of Australia, with the suggestion that it "should enable you to keep a permanent record of your impressions and descriptions of the many interesting features of your trip abroad". The injunction continued: "To encourage its maintenance the Bank will give prizes of ten guineas, five guineas and two guineas at the completion of the tour to the boys producing in order of merit the three records chosen as the best by a panel of independent judges."
This blog includes John Mathews' prize-winning diary and some of his newspaper reports. These reports, and John's hand-drawn illustrations, have been inserted into the diary text in relevant places; as are a few of my present-day observations by way of elaboration or clarification.
Also inserted are some of my photographs; and images of memorabilia collected by me. These are provided to add some context for the 65-year-old story, and by way of accompaniment to John's text.
Not that John's diary needs embellishment in any way. I am a first-time reader, like you, and have found the diary to be a lively narrative. It is not only comprehensive in its description of John's 112-day journey, but also delightful in its admixture of John's youthful enthusiasms and his expressive writing - underpinned by teenage knowledge greater than the reader is entitled to expect. John soaked up information, whether from local guides, from pamphlets, from tourist material, whatever. His extraordinary detail was not acquired from subsequent research, because he wrote the diary contemporaneously, day by day. And John's output was prodigious, both in terms of sheer volume (60,000-plus words) and in terms of youthful insight. Indeed a remarkable achievement, I think, for a 14-year-old.
WHY NOW?
There's an episode of M.A.S.H. where Colonel Potter is the recipient of a bottle of well-aged whisky, he by then being the last survivor of a band of World War I soldiers who had vowed more than thirty years previously that the whisky should be drunk by the last survivor of their number. The arrival of the bottle is a poignant reminder of comrades past.
It's not too much of a stretch to regard similarly the 1950s Australian Schoolboy Tours of Britain: the number of participants can never increase, and over time there's a steady depletion of numbers. Indeed, those remaining after 65-plus years - of which John Mathews is one, and I am one - are beginning to describe themselves as survivors. So it's time to publish - before it's too late.
THE DIARY - Melbourne to Colombo
Tuesday, April 12th 1955
Home, and then S.S. Oronsay
This was the day I had been waiting for. With a leap I was out of bed, and soon I was proudly arrayed in my uniform. After breakfast I took our South Australian guest [Gavin Hart] with me while I went to get a new strap for my camera. I was unsuccessful in my search at the local shopping centre so Dad took Gavin and myself up to Ivanhoe where he had a strap made at the saddler's.
We then rushed home and I found that Larry Stephens had come round to see me off. Then Elizabeth arrived and Mum, Dad, Gavin, Elizabeth and myself left for the farewell at Overseas House.
Here Mr. Moloney, the director of Sun Promotions, clarified a few of the details for our trip. The managing director of the Sun and the president of the Overseas League gave farewell speeches.
Back home we rushed for a quick lunch and then we threw our luggage in the boot and raced off for Station Pier. Dad let us out of the car at the wrong place and we had to carry our cases several hundred yards further.
Gavin and I arrived at the assembly point about a quarter hour late. In a few minutes we were allowed to take our luggage down to our cabins. I was in 588-593 with Bob Martin and Bill Moore. Then we were free till sailing time.
I had quite a few people to see me off. My mother and father, Alan and Elizabeth my brother and sister, the Glassborrows, the Mathews, the Landells, the Kingstons, Nana, Aunt Adelaide, and many of the boys and girls from my form at school. The form master and his wife, as well as the Aldriges also came.
Most of the time before the boat sailed I was on "D" deck talking to all my friends. Quite a few of the people had brought streamers for me to throw and I think I had about two or three dozen in the end.
At 3.30 the warning came for no more pass visitors to come on board, and then at 4.00 the loudspeakers asked all visitors to leave the ship. So I said my farewells to everyone, and with a sad heart I watched them cross the gangplank.
When they had taken up their positions on the wharf I enlisted Gavin's aid in throwing my streamers to them. Soon thousands of streamers linked the ship with the wharf, and they shivered and sighed in the breeze.
About 4.30 I was surprised to hear a familiar voice behind me, and turning saw Stewart Melville, our Assistant Scout Master, with his camera. It was thanks to his camera that we had been allowed to board the ship, because our Scout Master had been held up at the end of the gangplank. Stewart took a few photos, and then I went to the end of the gangplank and shook hands with Ron Swaine, our Scout Master.
Just after I went back to my position on the rail the crane came along and shifted the gangplank, and in so doing it brought cries of annoyance from the crowd. Soon the ropes were let go and all aboard began to realise that they were almost on their way. Then as the tug took up the strain on the tow rope, and the ship began to move slowly away from the wharf, last farewells were shouted across the widening gap of water.
Tears glistened in the eyes of many, and if it had not been for my cousin Lorna who kept making funny faces at me from the wharf, I might have howled outright. Then as the streamers tightened and then broke, only the fluttering handkerchiefs carried the wishes of those on the wharf to their loved ones on board ship.
With a feeling of despondency many of the boys raced down the ship to get one last glimpse of the faces they loved so much; then they turned away from the rail and wandered off.
Farewell Melbourne!
Then we had an assembly, when Mr. Hutchinson explained some of the details of our voyage. Later we had emergency boat drill. The unpacking of our cases occupied us between then and dinner, which was at 7.00 p.m.
Mr. Hutchinson had advised us to go easy as this was our first meal on board ship, but our introduction to dining room technique by our cheerful steward soon made us all put our best teeth forward.
After dinner most of us were too tired to do anything but wander round and eventually retire for the night in our new bunks. Even with their novelty we could not keep awake even two minutes after "lights out".
Wednesday, April 13th 1955
Approaching the Bight
Owing to our strenuous day the day before we did not wake up till about 6.50. As soon as I was dressed I raced on deck to see if it was getting rough but the sea was only as yet a gentle swell with a few choppy waves now and again.
After a delicious breakfast some of us went for a swim (in the pool!). But the cold water soon had us dressed again. The swimming pool is filled each day with seawater at the same temperature as that of the sea outside. Today the temperature was 61 degrees F.
While we were playing deck games on "C" Deck the sea (in our estimation) began to get up a bit and the haze across the water made visibility bad. Just before the midday meal a ship appeared, silhouetted in the haze near the horizon. A few moments later the bridge announced that it was the P & O liner Iberia.
At dinner Robert Turnbull was missing from our table and some of the other tables had empty seats also. There was an assembly later in the afternoon, from which there were quite a few boys missing. The sea continued to get up as the evening drew on, and the after end of "C" Deck tilted awfully as we tried to play deck quoits.
At the evening meal the roll of the ship was very noticeable. We were now right into the Great Australian Bight. During the day I had played several games of chess in the lounge. I was most interested in Mr. Tregenza's idea of a Contingent choir, and drama group.
After our evening meal most of us wasted no time in joining those who were already (sick) in bed. That night we all retarded our watches by 60 minutes.
The three schoolteachers seconded to the Contingent by their respective Education Departments were Bert Butler (Victoria), Alan Tregenza (South Australia), and Ken Miller (Western Australia).
Thursday, April 14th 1955
In the Bight
This morning we were awakened about 6.30 by the steward with our morning cup of coffee. As soon as we were awake I realised that the sea had come up considerably during the night. I had quite a job finding an empty shower, and when I did I had a bit of a job standing up with the ship pitching and rolling so much.
Breakfast-time tables announced that sea sickness had claimed about half of our number. The temperature of the swimming pool was 57 degrees today. The WSW winds which blew up during the night produced some decent-size waves, and on "E" Deck the spray came in showers. Several small grey birds seemed undeterred in their efforts to follow the ship by the waves.
The first assembly saw us issued with our library cards, but only about half of the boys were there. In our first period we worked out our timetable for the week.
When I came back to our cabin I found that Bill and Bob were both sick in bed. During second period I felt ill enough to go aft to "C" Deck to play deck quoits when asked to by Robert Turnbull.
Third period was maths and I felt even worse, even though I had taken a seasick tablet. At dinner time, after taking another tablet, I still felt a bit ill but I went up and tucked in well. Only 16 boys were there. Afterwards I went up to "C" Deck and played there for a while as I was feeling a bit better. Quite a few of the boys came from their sick beds to play deck games, and they all bucked up. The leaders decided to skip period four as they thought that games would benefit us more.
At period 5 I could not write because I had left my exercise book down in my cabin. Bill was sick in bed all day. Before the evening meal I occupied myself in writing letters.
At dinner most of the boys were present and made up for their sick period by eating well. In the evening there was the film which was most appropriate, The Cruel Sea. After that we all hastened to our beds, and retarded our watches for another 60 minutes.
Friday, April 15th 1955
Oronsay
We rose early and hurried in search of empty showers. While waiting for breakfast I finished letters to Elizabeth, Mum and Dad, my Form at school, and postcards to Alan and the Willcoxes. There was only one boy missing from breakfast.
Our first period was mainly devoted to a re-reading of the timetable for those who were sick the day before. During the interval between first and second periods I wrote a letter to the Young Sun to thank them for my trip. First and second periods were spent on the starboard side of "D" Deck, but third period was on the port side of "E" Deck. Before lunch we all adjourned to the lavatory on "G" Deck where we washed any dirty clothes.
At lunch Robert Turnbull and myself went right through the menu. Bill Moore was sea-sick all day and felt horrible.
For period 5 we had a very interesting debate on "What Constitutes Good Manners?" Val Noone was very outspoken in his criticism of the chairman. The debate was most interesting and amusing. Sam Smith and Robin Storer put forward some very good arguments. We had an audience of ship's passengers who greatly appreciated a very pretty speech by Mrs. Johnstone.
For dinner everyone was present except Bill Moore.
Mr. Hutchinson had asked us to re-write our report for the Young Sun, and after several hours of confabulation we finally composed a report which Mr. Hutchinson accepted.
Saturday, April 16th 1955
Perth
We were due to berth at Fremantle at 8.00 a.m. so when I awoke I tidied my part of the cabin and raced up on deck. Although it was only 6.45 we were already practically in our berth. Fremantle struck us as a typical port from the ship, and later observations confirmed our first impressions.
Breakfast was early, at 7.30, so that everyone could get ashore. We had a parade at 8.45 when some lucky persons received mail. I did not. At 9.00 a.m. we disembarked, and in one of the Metro buses we set out on a sight-seeing tour of Fremantle and Perth.
Passing through Fremantle we noticed that it seemed very much a port, with old houses and warehouses. Coming back to the sea we followed it round some anti-aircraft batteries and a Ford factory. Then the driver cut across through Mosman Park to the Swan, where on the side of a hill we photographed the scene across the water to Dalkeith and Claremont. Downwards to our left lay Peppermint Grove, with the water dotted with tiny boats.
Resuming our seats on the bus we were whizzed off round the water, through Peppermint Grove to Claremont. Here there were many really beautiful houses with lovely, well cared for, gardens. Our bus driver told us that there was a total of 11,000 pounds paid for four quarter-acre blocks in Clermont at a recent sale. No home in Perth is now allowed to be built on less than a quarter acre block of land; and therefore, in direct contrast to many of the older homes, all the new homes are large.
Our driver informed us that one of the most beautiful homes belonged to a bookmaker. The homes in Claremont and Dalkeith, the next fashionable suburb, all seemed to own at least two cars each. Near here in a beautiful setting near the beautiful Swan River was "Sunset", an old men's home run by the W.A. Government.
We passed through a grove of tree banksias, which through the green-tinted windows of the bus assumed a sickly hue. Passing onto the Stirling Highway we stopped at an advert for a tile company. This consisted of a series of life-size nursery rhyme models, Humpty Dumpty and The Three Pigs. We passed Methodist Ladies' College, Christchurch Grammar School, and many other schools. Just past where the Stirling Highway merges into Mounts Bay Road we stopped at the University of Western Australia, which is the only free university in the Southern Hemisphere. At present there is only a first year course in Medicine, but owing to the overcrowding of the universities in the eastern states, the University of Western Australia needs its own Faculty of Medicine - and is well on its way to getting one.
The University was started in 1929 and completed in 1931. It is built of a type of sandstone cut south of Perth, which is soft at first but hardens with age. The building was designed by Allsop, who won an Australia-wide competition for the best design. Chairman of the board was Sir Winthrop Hackett, a philanthropist whose casting vote made the University a free one. He left money to the University; and to the massive St. George's College, which is situated up the road a bit.
Passing on from the University we passed the Crawley Baths, and reached the Narrows. Here, after the reclamation of 70 acres of land, there will be a bridge built across the Swan River.
Leaving there we proceeded down St. George's Terrace, seeing all the principal buildings of Perth. Then we turned north to the beautiful St. Mary's Cathedral, which is in the Perpendicular Gothic style. As a direct contrast, right across the street is the modern oatmeal brick Royal Perth Hospital. A very fine building. Going down Hay Street behind a very old tram I gained the impression that apart from a few large department stores I could have been in any suburban shopping area in Melbourne.
On the way to King's Park we passed the Observatory (which has, I believe, a 28" telescope) and the Weather Bureau. At King's Park there was a beautiful sight looking out over Mounts Bay at Perth proper. Also in King's Park are double monuments to the dead of the two world wars.
Back on board we walked straight into luncheon. Our waiter was ashore so we had a stranger to serve us. After lunch most of the Western Australians were aboard. The additions to our cabin were Grant Lindley, John Read and Trevor Mathers. Now our cabin contains Bob Martin, Thebarton, S.A., Bill Moore, Bairnsdale, Vic., Trevor Mathers, Collie, W.A., Grant Lindley, Mandurah, W.A., John Read, Kalgoorlie, W.A. and myself.
There were quite a few people to see the W.A. boys off. We left pretty promptly at 3.00 p.m. The tugs were the Yuna and the Wyona. Before we left there was a group photo of the Contingent, and one of Bill Russell, Bob Turnbull, Mr. and Mrs. Hutchinson, and myself. I finished another film in Perth and put another in.
As we steamed out of Fremantle Harbour we saw Rottnest Island on the horizon. As the afternoon lengthened and the West Australian coastline fell below the horizon we realized that we were really on our way.
Goodbye Australia!
Soon afterwards there was an assembly to acquaint the W.A. boys with our daily routine. The new boys listened with some misgivings to our tales of the rough seas in the Bight. We advised them to eat plenty at dinner to avoid being sea-sick. But poor Trevor didn't even get to dinner, and Grant only managed to eat a few mouthfuls before rushing off to the rail. Bob and I went off for a swim just before bed, and it was beautiful in the water.
Here, from the Sun, is John's report of the day in Perth:
What a laugh we had when we leaned over the rail of Oronsay and saw the West Australian train.
It looked like two Melbourne trams linked together.
But we soon found that these small green Diesel trains were fast and efficient. And when we saw Perth's quiet, comfortable trolley buses, we soon stopped talking about Melbourne's trams.
Our bus sped us across the Swan River on to the Stirling Highway, linking Fremantle with Perth, and sight of a coastal battery in the sand hills overlooking the Indian Ocean reminded us of Australia's long and largely undefended coastline.
In its lower reaches the Swan River is almost three miles wide and its natural scenic beauty is unspoiled.
Between Fremantle and Perth are miles of lovely suburbs where beautiful homes set in colourful gardens have uninterrupted views across the water.
One highlight of our excursion was a quick look at the University of West Australia, the only free university in the Southern hemisphere.
We all carried away a lasting impression of the light sandstone buildings set in wide green lawns.
In Perth we were the guests of the W.A. branch of the Over-Seas League at morning tea. The League is making billeting arrangements for us when we reach the United Kingdom.
Our stay in Perth was limited. We were soon off again down St. George's Terrace, the business centre of the city.
No visit to Perth would be complete without a call at King's Park, 1000 acres of land commanding a view of the city.
Most of it is untouched bush, but in the few acres of lawn stand two monuments keeping sacred the memory of West Australian war dead.
Then back to Fremantle to meet our new friends - of the West Australian Contingent - and off to new excitement at Colombo.
Sunday, April 17th 1955
Oronsay, Indian Ocean
I woke very early, but drifted off to sleep to wake once more at about 6.00 a.m. At 10.45 a.m. there was a C of E service on "D" Deck which I attended, but it was all pretty strange to me. On my way there I drew a book from the library, but I left it on the piano cupboard. I forgot about it and when I went back it was gone. Everyone was by now recovered from sea-sickness.
I did some washing and ironing in the afternoon with Dick Barton. The temperature in the pool had risen to 73 degrees F. and it was very pleasant when bathing. After a game of chess with Dick Barton I came up and volunteered myself into the alto section of the choir. We had a good time singing away at the Song of Australia. There was "community singing" and after some arguing Bob Martin, Bill Moore and Samuel Winston Smith, with the assistance of myself and two other boys, put on The Great Maestro. It was quite a success.
Monday, April 18th 1955
Oronsay, Indian Ocean
After a hot night I didn't wake until about 7.00 a.m. I got a shock when I woke up and found my watch at 7.30 a.m., but then realized that I had not set it back 30 minutes the previous night as required, so I had an extra 30 minutes in bed.
The dining saloon is air-conditioned and it was great to walk into the cool air there for breakfast. It was a change after two days without lessons to get back to the grind, and I will not say it was an unpleasant change.
During the sports period I read, and played table tennis as well as swimming and throwing a ball about. We had a singing session last period, and sang Song of Australia and Beautiful Dreamer.
Tuesday, April 19th 1955
Oronsay, Indian Ocean
Whew! The hottest night yet. When I went up on deck just before breakfast the funnels and smoke of the Orontes were a smudge on the horizon. By the start of first lesson we had passed it. We went within about half a mile of it and everyone crowded to the rail to watch.
Between second and third periods everyone was up on "C" Deck trying to see the Cocos Islands, which were supposed to be near. But we didn't see them. This prompted me to try to work out the distance of the horizon from 40 feet above sea level. I got a result of 7 1/2 miles and I have yet to get it confirmed or denied. However towards the end of third period we all went to the rail to see them as they rose swiftly from the horizon.
Although varying in size they all had the same aspect from on board ship; a dull green top-knot of palm fronds surmounting a vivid green vegetation, with an encircling band of golden sand and the breakers cascading on the shore.
After 4th period we had our period for drama. Mr. Tregenza pointed out some common faults in acting technique and had boys come out to demonstrate the correct way. Then started the casting. Mr. Tregenza is going to produce The Merchant of Venice, and Mrs. Hutchinson The Man in the Bowler Hat.
I swam twice. Once before and once after tea. The temperature was 81 degrees F. After our last swim we stopped on "D" Deck to watch the dance going on and wished we were allowed to take part.
Three stretchers had been issued to each cabin and I was one of the lucky ones to use them tonight. At 11 o'clock just when we were going to sleep we were awakened and told we could take our stretchers up to "D" Deck. Once we were in them we did not waste any time in going to sleep.
Wednesday, April 20th 1955
Oronsay, Indian Ocean
I awoke after a good night but still felt tired when we went to our usual morning assembly in the play room. While we were there one of the ship's officers entered and, after a short discussion, Mr. Hutchinson announced hat we were to be taken on a tour of the ship.
Our Group B (Mr. Miller) was taken first of all to the engine-room via the first class. On the way I weighed myself [9 stone 11 pounds]. We went down a lift packed like sardines and when we stepped out into the engine room the blast of hot air almost knocked us over. We were taken round by one of the 10 engine room staff, and he tried to tell us about the machinery above the unearthly din.
We managed to hear the following facts. Oronsay is powered by two Parsons engines of three turbines each. Each engine develops 21,000 horse power. The high pressure turbines are worked by superheated steam at 800 degrees F. and a pressure of 500 lbs./sq. inch. The low pressure turbines work in a partial vacuum. As the turbine engine does 30,000 r.p.m. there is a two-stage reducing gear before the power is transmitted to the propeller shafts at normal speed of 130 r.p.m. The shafts are in seven sections each 20 feet long, with a varying diameter which averages 21 7/8th inches. As the reaction on the two screws is so tremendous there are cushion pads to prevent them pushing the engine out of its bearings. The screws are about 20 feet in diameter with a pitch of 19 feet 3 inches.
When we went into the boiler-room we had a pleasant surprise. It was air-conditioned and compared to the engine room it was like heaven. There are four boilers, which use the same water over and over again. The furnaces are brick-lined and consume 240 tons of crude oil each day. The oil is sprayed in through jets at a pressure of 270 lbs./sq. inch.
When we left the engine room I weighed myself once more - 9 stone 8 pounds.
We next went to the steering room. Here is the motor which moves the rudder in response to the gyroscopic repeater which gets its instructions from the automatic gyroscopic steering apparatus up on the bridge. There is also a steering wheel and magnetic compass in case anything goes wrong on the bridge.
Then up to the bridge we went, with one of the third officers. On each wing of the bridge there is a gyroscopic compass, and searchlight for signalling. On the bridge is a brass plate telling one that the ship is 700 feet long. In the bridge is a manual wheel with a magnetic compass if the ship is ever steered by the Quartermaster (as when entering harbour). Usually the ship is kept on its set course by the gyroscopic compass, which automatically corrects deviations.
On the bridge are all the aids to navigation. Radar; knotmeters; instruments to measure speed, revolutions, heel, barometric pressure, temperature. There is a complicated warning system, which is connected to the ship's sprinkling system. For the holds not connected there are tubes drawing air continuously from these places into a cabinet, and when smoke appears the source can be traced immediately. There are the ship's bell and whistle connected by buttons on the starboard side of the bridge just near an enormous telescope.
In the chart room was another radar screen and two chronometers set on G.M.T. One is used for navigation and the other is the standard used for all ship's time. After the chart room we all shook hands with the Chief Officer of Oronsay, Captain Hawker, and drank ginger beer and ate ice-cream and biscuits.
Lessons were a bit tame after that and we only had one proper one, and the other period we had to write an essay of our tour of the ship. That evening I wrote my report on Perth for the Young Sun. We went to bed after staying on deck till the last possible minute, and then slept on "D" Deck after 11.00 p.m.
Thursday, April 21st 1955
Crossing the Line
I went for a run and then a swim before breakfast and I left the water about 6.30 and went to "F" Deck. Here I made a good copy of my report to hand in to Mr. Hutchinson. At 7.00 a.m. we were due to cross the line, but at the appropriate time there did not seem to be any fuss made. At the morning assembly we were issued with certificates from Neptunus Rex proclaiming us shellbacks, and according us with the freedom of his domain.
During the morning there was considerable conjecture as to whether we would be honoured by a visit from the Marine Monarch himself. There was general emergency drill for the crew during the third period and the boats were lowered as far as "D" Deck. I finished a letter to Mum before the sport period. When I went up for a swim I was told that King Neptune would come after all.
I was the first one of our Contingent to be done. One of the barbers picked up the brush and slopped some of the stuff into my mouth. It was diluted vanilla ice-cream. Just before they went to push me in I jumped in with a terrific splash to cheat them of the pleasure. They kept going through our boys until the ice-cream ran out. Several times they accidentally on purpose got pushed in. When they had finished they all got pushed in and we souvenired some of their equipment. Jumping out we all raced down to afternoon tea.
Then we had a discussion of our Australian booklet, followed by talks by some of the boys about their home towns.
After dinner I went up on deck and watched Bob Turnbull writing his report on our crossing of the line.
Illustrations:
# "Australian Schoolboy Ambassadors" by Errol Chinner and Don David
# John Mathews being farewelled by his mother
# John Mathews' drawing of the Australian Coat of Arms
# Morning tea at the Overseas League, Perth (John Mathews second from left)
# Perth and the Swan River, from King's Park
# Contingent leaders on Fremantle wharf
# Oronsay luncheon menu 17 April 1955
# "Crossing the Line" certificate
To be continued...........
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