Chapter 2 - The Journey to England

Jane's description of her journey to England to marry Eric.

Chapter 2

The Journey to England

            Plans for the trip to the UK went ahead, the business was successfully disposed of (for an unknown sum), the ticket for the sea voyage purchased at a cost of £33/12/00 (thirty-three pounds twelve shillings) and on 15 August 1938 Jane boarded the
SS Ammande from Sydney to Fremantle, leaving her sister Peggy behind in Sydney to fend for herself.  The ship docked in Melbourne and Adelaide on the way to Fremantle, and  Jane was able to visit friends and family in both cities.  She broke her journey as arranged with the shipping company at Fremantle, to stay for a while with her parents who were stationed at the Rothsay gold mine in the south west of Western Australia about 75km east of the town of Perenjori.  The town is now a ghost town, the mine abandoned and only visited by tourists. Whilst there she wrote a letter to her sister Peggy.

 

            Here I am at last, and here I feel like staying - for a while.  It is heavenly being with Mummy again, and we have corns on our tongues from too much talking.  I didn’t write to you again from the boat because I wasn’t feeling happy and any letter would have been depressing.  I saw the Dyces in Melbourne and your letter arrived while I was there, which made everything very nice.  We did a lot of shopping and bought some wool for Eric’s pullover which is now half finished, and various little odds and ends that I didn’t get in Sydney.

            I was an amazingly good sailor despite the fact that it was rough all the way from Sydney and we had a fearful storm coming around the corner of WA  I didn’t even feel uneasy inside and ate large meals all the time so everything was fine.  I had one of my ‘throats’ with earache just before and after Melbourne, and felt very miserable with it and finally got a bottle of the lovely yellow gargle from the ship’s surgeon and was soon all right.  In Adelaide I spent a very pleasant day with Uncle Jack, walked in the garden at Ringmer and came away feeling worse than ever because the name on the gate was exactly the same printing as the one at home.  It’s silly what little things make one feel all sentimental.

 

            Ringmer is the old family home at Greenhill in the district of Burnside, South Australia, named after the village in Sussex from where William Berry emigrated 99 years previously, together with the house which was made from timber. The house was reconstructed, added to and generally improved over the early years of settlement in South Australia.  It was home to a good many of Jane’s predecessors, and while it was sold by the family for a period during the 20^th century, it was back in family hands again. The home still exists and is owned now by Mary & Ian Wilson, who are also direct descendents of William Berry. William Berry was Jane’s great-grandfather on her mother’s side.  A cousin of ours, noted genealogist Nick Vine-Hall had this to say in his book Buxton Forbes Laurie of Southcote (1976) about William Berry:

 

            William Berry sailed for South Australia via the Cape of Good Hope, on the good ship "Brankenmore", Captain Smith. It was a barque-rigged vessel of about 350 tons burden. The cost of the passage for adult cabin passengers was about 50 pounds each, the passengers embarked at Gravesend on the 4th Sept, 1839 and sailed on the following day.

As everyone had to have a "trade" or "profession", William Berry said he was a cabinet-maker. He brought his house and workshop with him on the voyage in two pre-fabricated sections which still exist as parts of his house in South Australia.. He kept a log of his voyage, which is now owned by one of his descendants. He also brought with him a small wooden writing desk, which closed into a box, and a working model of a steam engine, which he had made at the age of 16 years. It is told that he made this engine entirely without his father's consent or knowledge, by using the forbidden parental workshop. The engine is now owned by a member of the Cockburn family.#

            Jane’s letter continued:

 

We left Adelaide at 4.30 and after dinner there was dancing on deck, and at last I met a congenial spirit - one John Warburton. 

 

(John Warburton went on to marry Jane’s sister Celia some years later.)

 

            We danced all the time together, and next day we were in each other's company from 9.30 in the morning until midnight, except at mealtimes.  He was only 22, but sandy coloured and very sweet, and we got on splendidly together. 

            The day I got to Perth I played with Aunt Kate all day and at night I dressed in my best bib and tucker and had dinner at the Savoy Hotel with John and his mother and a cousin. John lives south of Perth a few miles and has just finished a trip right around the world.

 

            John did indeed live south of Perth, about 250km away at Kojonup, on a wheat, sheep and horse stud property called Yeenyellup, just out of Kojonup.  Peggy and her husband later settled in the same area, almost next door, a few kilometres away on a property called Chamingup. My sisters, brother and I spent many happy school holidays there some years later and enjoyed the company of all our aunts and uncles �" and cousins �" on both farms.

            I still have the original ticket for Jane’s passage on the TSS Largs Bay and the Passenger List for it. Curiously, the names are listed by port of destination.  The price of the fare - £33-12-0 (33 pounds and 12 shillings �" the present-day equivalent of about £1360)  - was not a lot by today’s standards.  There are no longer any regular London to Sydney passenger liners such as there were then, but if you were to catch a freighter these days, as you can, it would cost around £3,500 and take around six weeks.

The TSS (Twin-Screw Steamer) Largs Bay was an Aberdeen and Commonwealth Line steamer, with a very unimpressive single funnel.

We rejoin Jane at the end of her month-long stay in Perenjori with her mother and father.  She and her mother had moved to Perth and it is now Departure Day, 12 November 1938.  The two ladies are staying at the Savoy Hotel in Perth, prior to Jane continuing her journey by boarding the Largs Bay for Southampton. Whilst Jane’s mother is out shopping, Jane wrote a last letter to sisters Peggy and Celia, and a friend, Gerry, describing the last hours before boarding the Largs Bay. The letter is written on Savoy Hotel stationery.  (Miss Gerry Hewitt was a very close friend of Jane’s, of whom we will hear much more later.)

 

            Mother and I have had a marvellous time here, mostly doing millions of pounds worth of window shopping and then spending 6^d in Woolworths.  I don’t think Mother has ever had such an orgy and I certainly haven’t either.  We have been to dozens of picture shows and are going to see darling Tyrone Power in Second Honeymoon this afternoon.  I have to be on board the boat at midnight, but we don’t sail until 7am on Sunday, which makes a long and agonising business of getting away.  I am not feeling specially bright about going, but will probably cheer up later.  Mother says she will probably write tomorrow because I will have gone and she will be lonely.  She is a poor little thing and terribly sweet.  She has just come back from Woolworths laden with tiny parcels, all with things that might come in handy - you know the way she goes on.

I am getting impatient to be off, and am getting a little tired of not being settled anywhere, but leaving here will be worse than leaving Sydney, because its so final.  Can’t be worried though, and there is always little Eric waiting patiently at Southampton.  He will  write to me at every port, and wrote to the shipping company and got a permit to come on board at Southampton, which is quite a concession, I believe.  He is a dear little thing isn’t he?

 

The next letter from Jane is written to Peggy on T.S.S. Largs Bay stationery, dated 19th November 1938, and was presumably posted at the next port of call after Fremantle, which probably would have been Colombo, Ceylon (now Sri Lanka).

 

There is very little to say because nothing has happened except meals and the monsoon, neither of them very pleasant.  The passengers are lousy and very dull, and I have scarcely spoken a word to any of them.  I play tennis in the late morning with the assistant surgeon, who is young and very sweet, and in the late evening I play tennis with the Chief Officer, who is elderly, but very devoted.  There isn’t another interesting creature on board except these two, but there is a young man whose resemblance to Wee Eric is simply amazing.  He is less dark, but exactly the same size and shape and has the same nose and chin and dark eyes.  He also has a moustache, which helps me to imagine how Eric will look with one.  He is deadly dull, however, and too awfully British, by Gad!

Eric sent a cable and a letter to the boat at Fremantle, so what with letters from Gerry and Mrs. Dyer and another lad and wires from Janet and a swain from the Ammande, I had quite a fistful of correspondence waiting for me and it has been a great thrill.  There were also huge stacks of flowers from Gwenda Tilley and from the fiancée of Mr. Hardy on the mine, and that was a thrill, too.

I have been given a better cabin than the one I booked in Sydney and am really very comfortable,  but oh how dull it is.  Not having much to do except knit and read I get very miserable sometimes and miss my family dreadfully. I expect I will feel better after we have left Colombo, but these ten days feel as if they will never end.

 

Jane was to suffer quite badly over the next year or two with homesickness, even with ‘wee Eric’ by her side.  It could be said that this is the penalty one has to pay for being a member of such a large, loving and close-knit family.  But eventually, Jane being made of fairly stern stuff, got over it, and had lots of other things to occupy her mind; children, Hitler and the war, and running a household in the fashion of the day.

But then it got better.

 

Colombo �" Aden.  27 November 1938

Darling Mummy,  I have settled down all right now and am really enjoying the trip.  What with dozens of games of tennis every day and a swim before breakfast I am keeping very fit and the heat doesn’t worry me very much.  The north-east monsoon keeps us moderately cool when we are sitting about, but playing games is a very wet business - and how I love my drink of squash or beer when it’s finished!  I eat huge meals, but I don’t get any fatter, no doubt because I play games so strenuously.  I am becoming quite a dab at deck-tennis too, and am to partner the young surgeon in the open doubles next week.  The differences between me and the surgeon and the Chief Officer have been amicably settled, and now I have a retinue of four and a girl friend, so no one can lay claim to my time unless they want to play with my retinue as well.  All of which is very handy.

The girl friend is a pretty little fair New Zealand lass - Deborah Makgill - my own age and rather gentle.  We conversed at intervals the first few days because she sat at my dining table, and then the day before we reached Colombo she asked me would I like to share her cabin.  She had one like mine all to herself, and wanted company, so we went to the purser and pitched the plot with such good effect that we now occupy a large two-berth cabin next to my old one, and are very comfortable indeed. The cabin is exactly the same size as the other, but has more floor space and bigger cupboards by reason of there being only two bunks in it. I have the upper berth and the benefit of what winds blow in at the porthole, and am as happy as a bird.  Deborah is a dear little thing, and we do famously together.

We had a house warming party the day we moved in - I prevailed on the steward to supply us with a pot of tea and we had a tin of biscuits, and afternoon tea was dispensed to a party of six, in tooth glasses and whatnot.   The group comprised the young surgeon (Ken Redmond), Todd Synott, Lorna Tait and Stan Commins, who is a silent-voiced Welshman - very easily amused.

The party was a great success, so we had another party after the pictures next evening, but it was so hot that we took the sandwiches and lemon drink onto the hatch and sang gentle songs while we ate.  All of which was tremendous fun, and the envy of several of the other passengers.  There are two houris^[1] on board who are just a little too potent for most of us, and so they fall back on the stewards for their entertainment.  When all the stewards are busy, they wander aimlessly about trying to join in with other parties, but soap and salt water don’t mix and I am afraid they get rather left out.  We do our best, but it is a terrific task.

Ever since Colombo, I have felt much happier and made several new friends, not to mention the gorgeous time I had in port.  Mr. Hart (the Chief O.) was to have joined our morning excursion, but couldn’t get away, so Ken, Todd, Lorna Tait and myself all went on a spree together.  Ken had to be back on duty at 3pm and we didn’t dock until after twelve, so there wasn’t time to drive to Mt Lavinia as we had originally planned.  We just went ashore and let Fate guide our footsteps - and how She guided them!!

Within a minute of setting foot on the wharf, we were surrounded by natives who pestered us almost to death with their attentions.  We posted some letters with natives snatching the stamps from our grasp and putting them on and then demanding ‘baksheesh’. We then crossed the road to a shop where Ken and Todd bought postcards with one hand and argued with a would-be chauffeur with the other, so to speak.  After buying the cards and skilfully evading a large purchase of elephants and jewellery, we engaged a car for the day and set off for lunch at the Hotel Metropole.  We ate funny food which we enjoyed, and had lots of fun because Todd is quite the most ingenious creature I have ever seen, and carried on lively arguments with the waiters about the value of money and one thing and another.  We returned to the car after lunch and before we could drive away we were surrounded by native hawkers of every kind.  Lorna bought some lovely linen handkerchiefs, but I lay low and didn’t buy a thing.  I can’t afford to fill my luggage up with things I don’t really need, and I had quite as much fun watching the others with their bargaining as I would have had doing it myself.

We drove all around Colombo, leaving the car every now and then, and saw the native quarter and the lovely homes of the wealthy Europeans and walked through the botanical gardens. The flowers were a miracle, and such colours as I have never seen before.  Little squirrels ran about amongst the trees, and every now and then a native would bob up from some obscure place and ask for 'only a penny, Ladee', in wheedling tones.  Always there were outstretched hands and a cry for money and it was really great fun seeing how skilfully we could evade these demands.  We saw snake charmers and temples, and all sorts of weird things, and had a heavenly time, and finally had to drive like blazes to get Ken back to the ship in time.  My hat blew off on the way and the rush of natives to retrieve it was almost fatal to the hat, but fun to watch.  I returned to the ship with Ken because I had a splitting headache and a blister on the ball of my foot, and I wanted to see if any mail had arrived yet.  Todd and Lorna went on in the car to the Galle Face and apparently had an hilarious time.

There were no letters for me and the assistant purser told me that no further mails would arrive before we sailed, so I felt a trifle dashed.

Ken revived me with headache pills and a new dressing on my lame foot, and then we lay on the sundeck with our books and snoozed for an hour.

After that we hung over the side and watched the native hawkers drawn up alongside in their funny boats, selling elephants and whatnot to the passengers.  It was all as funny as a play and kept me amused for hours.  Ken went off to his surgery at 4.30 and I lay and watched the sun set and then went below.  The Chief was looking for me to have a sherry with him before dinner and I sat in his little house, yarning busily about my doings, until nearly seven before we realised the time.  I had to run like mad so as not to miss dinner, and just as I was careering into the saloon there were wild shrieks from the stairs and Todd and Lorna came racing along to say that Ken was keeping the launch waiting and they had been looking for me for ten minutes.  I was whirled down to my cabin, and while I found a glove, Lorna jammed my little brown beret onto my head and we dashed up on deck again, scrambled down the gangplank and fell into the launch absolutely breathless.  I had no idea whether I was to be allowed to have dinner or not, and was clad in the brown stripy frock and no stockings and didn’t feel very dashing.

Despite the fact that we had kept the launch waiting, we finally departed for the wharf in an awful old rowing boat manned by two ferocious looking natives.  They came alongside just as we were seated in the launch and said they would take us ashore for 6^d, and we were so intrigued by the funny boat that we hopped into it and away we went.  It was much more fun than going in the launch, and we got there sooner, too, which was a Good Thing.  I did love the short row from the boat to the wharf - only five minutes, but it was all magic.  The boat was very low in the water, and the night was dark and everywhere were ships and lights and the sound of laughter and men shouting and the natives stood to their oars and gabbled at each other as they rowed.  It was one of those small odd moments that makes a lasting impression.

We went to the Grand Orient Hotel for dinner and had a very hilarious meal.  The food was lovely and the service was perfect, and Todd caused quite an uproar at the finish by tipping the waiter lavishly with a large silver coin - the equivalent of a halfpenny.  Everyone had a hearty laugh over that, including the waiter and three or four others from the Largs Bay at the next table. We had coffee and liqueurs in the lounge and listened to a first class Viennese orchestra playing first class music.

After half an hour Mr. Hart joined us and we just sat and listened to the music and drank sherry.  Everything was lovely and peaceful until three other lads arrived, and before Lorna and I could draw breath we were whisked onto the dance floor.  We didn’t really mind, because all the lads danced well, and we went on dancing until ten o’clock and then Mr. Hart had to rush off and sign papers because we were to sail at eleven.  The rest of us hired a rickshaw each and went on a mad journey around the city for about a quarter of an hour, and then had to hustle down to the wharf to get back to the ship.  We arrived just twenty minutes before sailing time, after a perfect day, and lo and behold, two letters for me!

One from Peggy and one from Wee Eric.  Peggy’s letter made me feel terribly homesick for a while, but I think it was mostly reaction after the exciting day.  Anyway I was very concerned to hear about my old Tookes, and hope his paw is quite better again.

Eric didn’t say very much because he was too excited about everything, but that didn’t matter so long as he said the right things fore and aft, as it were.

I took some photographs at both Colombo and on board, and will send them to you from England after Eric has seen them.  They aren’t very exciting ones, they may interest you a little.

It is now time for my evening tennis, so this must stop.  I have been for a swim today and went to church, but have had no exercise yet, so I must go and see to it. We reach Aden tomorrow, and Port Said four days later, and I will write to you again from there.   You all seem a million miles away now, and it seems incredible that you will even get this letter.  Will you please send it on to Peggy and Celia with my best love, because I couldn’t write it all out again - I have already written the same to Eric, and a third time would be just too much.

Fondest love to all my family, and to the Smiths and Reynolds and Hardys too.  Cheerio till next letter.  Jane.

One extra kiss for Daddy and Richard because they are so sweet.

 

A couple of days later it was her Father’s turn - it can only be said that Jane was fair in spreading the letters over the whole family.  It was certainly only a formality, because it was well known that the letters were all shared around between all of the family.

This next letter was written to her father on ‘Aberdeen and Commonwealth Line’ stationery, and was dated 1 December 1938:

 

TSS Largs Bay, Aden �" Suez.

Daddy Darling, I wrote a news-sheet to Mother, to be sent on to the girls, and didn’t post it in Aden because there was no mail leaving from there.  That was a couple of days ago, and now Aden is a thing of the past and Suez is only a day away, so I thought it would be a good idea to write and tell you that I luvsha, and post the news from Suez.

All still goes along in a pleasant fashion, except for the most appalling heat and a stye in my left eye - neither of which I am enjoying.  Thank heaven the stye didn’t afflict me a week or two later! I can’t think of anything less becoming, unless perhaps it was two of them.

We had only a very short visit to Aden, and all after dark, too. I think we arrived at about 8.30pm and sailed again at 2am.  Deborah and I went ashore with another lass and the ship’s Sister, who is a very jovial soul and great fun to be with at any time.  She had stacks of shopping to do for herself and for a couple of the officers, and we all helped her.  I enjoyed the bargaining, although I wasn’t buying things for myself.  I did buy some exquisite undies as a present for Eric’s sister because they were so very cheap and I wanted to give her something nice.  Everything we saw in the shops was most inexpensive, and of course there was a mixture of good quality and bad.  I longed to have pounds to spend and lots of room in my luggage for anything I might have bought, but I restrained myself as usual.  After all, shopping in London will be just as much fun as shopping in any of the ports, because all of the shops there will be new to me, too.

I play the most strenuous games of deck tennis, despite the heat, because it is just as uncomfortable sitting in a bath of sweat as it is bouncing around and getting sticky.  At least one has good reason for being hot then.

I have taken a few photographs with the camera Richard gave me and they are quite successful - mostly groups and so on because I don’t know enough about it to take successful pictures of scenery.  I will send the photographs to you when Eric has seen them.

I am really enjoying myself now, and have stopped feeling so sad about leaving everyone behind.  Everyone here is really nice to me and I am so busy that I haven’t time to sit and pine.  I have to play tennis with the Captain and the Chief Officer every evening at five, and it is mighty hard work because they both play a very vicious game.  I am getting a little quicker now myself and the sets are no longer  6-love, but creep up to 6-3.  I am so keen on the game that I hope to have an indoor court in my own house one of these days, and then I can play games no matter what the weather is like.  What think you?

It is grand exercise, so grand that I am not getting any fatter despite the huge meals I eat.  I am very fit, though, and full of beans.  I won’t write another page because I can’t think of anything more to tell you.  This isn’t really a letter, only a token of my esteem and affection. Cheerioh, Daddy Darling, and all of my fondest love,  your Blackhearted Jane.

 

Then, the last surviving, very short letter from the trip, again on ship’s stationery, this time to Peggy, from Malta, halfway through the Mediterranean Sea, possibly the last stop before Southampton (unless the ship called in to Gibraltar on the way through.)  It is undated.

 

No letter, this, just a cover for the stamps I have bought for you and Celia, hope they are of some use.

I bought the same for each of you so there wouldn’t be a fight, but have since thought that maybe I should have fixed it so you could swap them about.  Anyway, there it is.

Must fly because we are in port and I’m being waited for.  Lots of love to all of you and my oldest Sandy Tookes,  Jane.

 

There the letters from the ship stop.

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^[1] Houri =  One of the beautiful virgins provided in Paradise to all faithful Muslims.