01/06/2025
TEN POUND POMS
I recently heard about a program being broadcast called £10 Poms. It was quite a surprise to the people telling me when I told them I was one of them! I haven’t watched the program, and I’m not likely to as I don’t have a television, but apparently, it is pretty shocking what some of these people had to go through and put up with.
I had been dating Jen for a couple of years, and when my apprenticeship finished in 1967, we decided that we would like to go travelling. However, the funds weren’t there to allow this to happen. At this time, the Australian government pushed people to apply for immigration. So this is what we did. We hadn’t considered marriage. We just wanted to get away.
At our interview at Australia House, we were told that if accepted, we could go out by plane or boat; however, we would be encouraged to go out as a married couple. Travelling halfway across the world by boat and visiting various countries appealed to us. However, we would not be able to have our own cabin and would have to separate into male and female accommodation. This was in the latter part of 1967. Things then moved very quickly; on February 12, 1968, Jen and I married in the Gravesend registry office (photo 1) and sailed out of Southampton on the Italian liner Fairsky (photo 2) bound for Australia two days later. (photo 3)
Following the 1967 Arab-Israeli War, the Suez Canal was closed until 1975. During this period, Fairsky's route to Australia was changed. It went via the Bay of Biscay and steam down the African coast, making landfall first at the Canary Islands (Tenerife) and then at Cape Town before continuing to Fremantle. Passengers could alight at each port. Following three more stops, Adelaide, Melbourne, and Hobart, we arrived in Sydney five weeks later.
The dream honeymoon didn’t quite materialise. Our cabin was one bunk directly above the other, with just enough room to open the door to allow access. (Photo 4)
What was worse was that I was seasick at every opportunity! It was a long time before I acquired my sea legs. I clearly remember sailing out of Freemantle (Perth), heading for the notorious Great Australian Bight, lying in my bunk as the ship started to lurch from side to side, thinking oh no, here we go again. Fortunately, I must have fallen asleep because the next thing I knew, it was the next day, and I had slept through the worst.
When we arrived in Sydney late one afternoon, we were quickly removed from the ship and put on an overnight train to Brisbane (photo 5). We were met and taken to a hostel (photo 6), where we waited for our luggage to arrive. In the meantime, an agent took us to look at various properties for us to rent. We decided on a one-bedroom flat in an old converted weatherboard house in a small suburb outside the city centre. (photo 7)
From what I have been told about the program, it seems as if Jen and I were among the lucky ones as far as the emigration went, but then, it was just the two of us and not the complication of a family.
Sadly, life in Brisbane did not suit Jen. At that time, the city was very Victorian in its outlook, and even though our only stipulation during our migration interview was that we could both get work, it took her six months to find a job. In London, she worked as a Dictaphone typist, with a capacity of 100 words per minute, during interviews in Brisbane. All she heard was, "Sorry, you have not had experience in an Australian office."
We were sent to Brisbane because a manufacturing jeweller there had asked Australia House to send him the next applicant with a Jewellery manufacturing background. They had not considered Jen; perhaps they thought she would not require a job as we would start a family. Later, we moved to Sydney, where, within one morning, she was offered six different jobs. However, by then, Jen wanted to return to the UK. She did this a few weeks after our obligatory two years, followed by me a few months later.
In memory of dear Jen.
