CHAPTER FOUR

CHAPTER FOUR

On the fifth we arrived at Townsville at 11.30 and steamed up the creek to the wharf our tow proving unwieldy in the narrow channel and the flood tide, with just enough room with the barge alongside we made our way, just managing to scrape through. So ended our trip, or so we thought. We would have the barge taken from us and get back to work for we had been told in Sydney that Townsville was to be our destination and our base but alas this was not to be.

The barge was to be taken from us and go the rest of the journey as deck cargo on a larger boat, this order was then cancelled and I received further orders to continue to New Guinea with the tow, calling en route at Cairns for further orders. We were not allowed to linger because my superior officers wished us to sail the next day, but we had some small engine problems which needed fixing. In all we were there for three days before we were ready for sea again. On the eight day we left the wharf and proceeded down the creek only to get stuck on the mud bank. As I said it was very narrow especially with the barge and we had to try and miss a small boat coming up stream; still it being flood tide we were off in half an hour and it being dusk we pulled in under Magnetic Island.

Although the night had started well, it seemed unlucky for during the night our tow line fouled on a coral reef, we let it stay till dawn then launched our six foot dinghy, and with the grapple managed to clear it, no small task seeing the tow line was nine inches and we were working from a cranky six foot dinghy.

We had for company another small trawler called the “Destiny” S-84 and it was nearly our destiny! He was to help us tow the barge. We had told the chap in charge of Small Ships it was too much for us to tow, thinking we could get out of the job, I had said that it was too much for us in strong tides with a bit of wind as well it made it nigh on impossible to may way. The Officer had decided this boat was to help us.

The ‘Destiny” had put a tow line to us to help lighten our tow but this idea was useless, the ‘Destiny’ was smaller than us and he was even unable to keep the tow line tight and was all over the ocean. He had us so fed up we cast his line off and resigned ourselves to our job for it seems we are to tow this barge all over the Sou’ West Pacific. We also found we were in company of a madman, the skipper of the ‘Destiny’, George as we called him, was a dill. His favourite pastime was to throw an oil drum over the side and as it was dropping astern let go with his guns, with which he was fitted with two thirties machine guns. As he always kept just ahead we seemed always in the firing line, shots would whistle over and passed us. “Shot the mad bastard Skipper!” Big Jack would roar “shoot him before he does us in.” A blast from our guns would awaken him to what he was doing and peace would be with us again. We will have to ditch him, the mate would say but he stuck to us like an old man of the sea and would not be shook off. The end of the day we anchored at Palm Island, the madman still in company.

We had rain for several days and except for ship routine nothing much to write of. Later on we anchored at Brook Island while the crew went ashore to gather oysters and wild fruit of which these islands abound I amused myself shooting fish with the Tommy gun with only partial success – I got but two mullet.

Our next stop was Barnard Island and we had a swim in a coral pool here. The island is just a tree grown hill rising from the water. This island seems to be the home of flying foxes, for at dusk these pests left the island in thousands; the sky was blackened out with them flying toward the mainland some ten miles away. The foxes rising seemed to be the cue for the mad skipper of the ‘Destiny’, yes, he is still tagging along. As soon as the foxes started rising he let blaze with his guns, shooting off a couple of magazines of shells, tracers flying everywhere. I must try to stop him before he shoots us or gets us shot. His own crew is afraid for their lives, he aims any old where. “I will take the Bastard apart’” roars Big Jack, “I will kick his guts out!”

After roaring across the water at him, he finally stopped. We were in dangerous waters here not only from the reefs and the sea; but from Jap plane or a sub will meet up here, and tracers show a long way.

Little was to be done during the day, just clean the ship and keep watch. We, who were used to working hard and long hours, this seemed like loafing, For something to do we made kites and flew them from the mast then shot them down with our two fifty caliber guns which had been fitted for us. These guns, the mate and young Jack kept clean, months later in New Guinea they were praised by a Major for the excellent condition they were in. Myself, I looked after the rifles and Tommy Gun, also the revolvers of which we had been issued two – one to myself and one for the mate. He swaggered around with his strapped to his side while I favoured a shoulder holster. I guess we were like little boys with our guns; always seeming to want an excuse to start shooting holes in the atmosphere and at the water. We thought that we were truly tough guys!

The weather remained fine and we were making a hundred miles in twenty hours, not bad for our heavy tow line, which was giving us no trouble except for chaffing the tow line. We overcame this by parceling with bags. We passed Smokey Cape at eleven thirty pm. The ‘Marjory Jean’, another boat of the Small Ships gave us a hail of encouragement in passing.

Off the Solitary Islands we stopped to break the fisherman’s unwritten law, we robbed some lobster pots and fish traps which were buoyed off with glass floats. Picking the line ups with the boat hook then onto the winch, short work was soon made of bringing the traps to the surface, “Good catch, Skipper,” cried Big Jack when the traps landed on the deck. Two lobsters were soon crawling over the deck and these were pounced on by Sid the cook who bore them down to the galley for cooking. The fish traps yielded plenty of leather jackets – we kept half a basket and returned the rest to the trap. After resetting the traps we were on our way once more. Except for a dozen fish, which we had for tea, we cleaned the rest and salted and dried them for bait and later use. Our thanks to the fisherman who set the traps, I hope he forgave us. Later, when we were passing a point, later called Sandon Bluffs, Big Jack recalled how he had fished there and caught snapper, so the boat was hove to and lines, which we had plenty, were baited and thrown over the side. Soon a dozen fine snapper were kicking and flapping on the deck. It was with some reluctance that we once more got under way. We were all fishermen and it hurt to have to leave good fishing behind,

On the twentieth we came upon Richmond Light at 8 am, Blackrock at 7pm and Hastings Head at 9pm.