Of Tragedy and Valor
Donald John Bartel

Donald John BARTEL was born at Encounter Bay on 7 October 1925, the youngest son of Johannes Frederick BARTEL and Ivy Grace BARTEL (nee Rumbelow). 

Don was educated at Victor Harbor Primary and High Schools and after leaving school, he worked in the family building business. During this time he undertook extensive swimming training and was successful in the South Australian Under-16 and Under-18 Swimming Championships.

Don joined the RAN on 25th October 1943 and when discharged in 1946 was a signalman on HMAS Leeuwin. 

Don was an excellent footballer and  always seemed to have plenty of time to gain possession and drop-kick to his man and was very strong on the ground.

Don’s football prowess survived naval service. Back home he played a number of games for the Sturt Football Club in the SANFL, then later played for Encounter Bay, winning Mail Medals (Association awards for the Fairest and most Brilliant Player). 

Don married Barbara Joy Ireland on 25th September 1948. Don and Barbara had three children. Barbara is an excellent artist whose work has been keenly sought after. 

On 15th November 2021 he passed away peacefully at Victor Harbor Private Hospital, surrounded by his family. 

With thanks to Ian MILNES, History Research Team, Victor Harbor RSL Sub-Branch 

BARTEL, Donald John (PA4497)

Victor Harbor RSL Sub-branch

Donald John BARTEL was born at Encounter Bay on 7 October 1925, the youngest son of Johannes Frederick BARTEL and Ivy Grace BARTEL (nee Rumbelow). Don was educated at Victor Harbor Primary and High Schools and after leaving school, he worked in the family building business. During this time he undertook extensive swimming training and was successful in the South Australian Under-16 and Under-18 Swimming Championships.

Don enlisted in the Royal Australian Navy on 25 October 1943, having just turned 18. His older brother Ivan (Frederick Ivan BARTEL born 24 January 1920) had enlisted in the militia forces on 22 October 1940, and later enlisted in the Royal Australian Air Force. Don had already decided he wanted to be a signalman when he arrived at the Adelaide Recruiting Centre to join the Royal Australian Navy Reserve (RANR). Having finished school before completing the Intermediate Certificate, he was required to pass a scholastic test to be accepted as a Communications Branch sailor. Following a medical examination, Don then, in Navy language, “signed on” (enlisted) was allocated the service number PA 4497; PA showed his home-port was Port Adelaide. Having your home-port recorded was important, as the Navy then issued travel vouchers to that place on the rare occasions long leave was granted. During both World Wars the majority of personnel who joined the Navy did so as members of RANR or the period of hostilities. Reservists were engaged for 3 years or the duration of the war and 6 months thereafter. Joining the permanent Navy required committing to 12 years of service.

Don’s recruit and specialist signal training was undertaken at the Flinders Naval Depot. This shore establishment, more correctly known as HMAS Cerberus was located on Victoria’s Mornington Peninsula, and remains to this day as one of the Navy’s principal training establishments. Bursting with wartime personnel, Don’s initial living accommodation (mess deck) was in a temporary hut. Later he lived in D Block, one of the three storey barrack buildings. This was much more convenient as the sailors’ galley and dining room (mess) were immediately behind the building.

As in all training establishments, it was important to march smartly and to observe correct military courtesies. Don, as class leader, was marching his class to their next lesson when an officer, carrying books whilst riding a bicycle, approached them. Don ordered his class to eyes right while he saluted, obliging the officer to return the salute and, of course, dropping the books to the amusement of the sailors.

Transport to and from Melbourne for those going on leave or draft (transfer) elsewhere was by steam hauled passenger trains from the station within the Depot. There was always a rush on Friday afternoons for liberty men and girls (WRANS) to catch the last train, which travelled express to Flinders Street Railway Station.

As a Class leader, Don was not required to stand sentry duty, however on one evening, when one of his class could not be found, he took the man’s place as one of two Gunnery School sentries. Following a long established practice, sailors who were under training were not allowed to enter the “wet” canteen where beer was served. Reasoning the missing sailor would most likely be at the “wet” canteen, Don and the other sentry left their post and found the miscreant enjoying a beer. Not one to waste an opportunity, Don and the other sentry joined him. Unfortunately, Don’s companion had never tasted alcohol before. Eventually the beer took effect and he had to be assisted from the canteen. On the way back to their post another sentry leapt out from behind a bush and challenged them, causing the inebriated member to scream and run off.

Don was selected to represent the Navy at the Melbourne inter-service swimming carnival. Despite limited training opportunities, he came a creditable second in the 100 yards freestyle race.

On completion of his training at HMAS Cerberus Don was promoted to Ordinary Signalman V/S (visual signalling) on 23 March 1944. He was then drafted to the personnel pool at HMAS Penguin, a Sydney Naval Depot at Balmoral. Following a week aboard the destroyer HMAS Stuart (previously a ship of the famed Mediterranean “scrap iron” flotilla) Don was drafted ashore on 11 April for transfer to the Darwin shore establishment, HMAS Melville.

Don’s long journey to Darwin was in itself a geography lesson. He started by standard gauge train from Sydney to the dual gauge transfer station, Wallangarra, just over the Queensland border. There passengers and goods were transferred to the narrow gauge Queensland trains for travel to Brisbane. Passing through the Brisbane Naval Establishment, HMAS Moreton, he continued his rail journey north to Townsville then westwards to Mt Isa. Travel resumed by truck to Tennant Creek then along the road now known as the Stuart Highway to Larrimah to catch another train. Eventually he reached Darwin and the naval depot, HMAS Melville, on 25 May 1944.

On 4 July 1944 Don was drafted to HMAS Southern Cross, which had been in Darwin Harbour during the first Japanese air raid on 19 February 1942. During the raid Southern Cross and her crew rescued survivors from two American ships that sank, and assisted a third ship that was damaged.

In early July 1942, Southern Cross accompanied HMAS Warrnambool from Darwin to land Dutch troops and equipment in the Aru Islands. Later in July Southern Cross sailed with the ketch HMAS Chinampa to land Australian troops at Saumlaki (now Maluka, Indonesia, north of Darwin). Chinampa berthed alone as Southern Cross had broken down. As Chinampa berthed it was hit by Japanese gunfire, killing the Captain and wounding two others. Both ships then withdrew to Darwin.

By 1944 Southern Cross duties were less hazardous. Classified as an examination vessel, Southern Cross was built in 1933 for the Anglican Church to carry supplies and personnel to remote mission stations along the northern coast. Requisitioned by the Navy in 1941, the 298 ton diesel engine ship, with a service speed of 8 knots, was armed with a 40mm Bofors gun and several machine guns. While most remote mission stations were abandoned as the threat of Japanese invasion grew, those remaining open still had to be supplied by ship.

When Don joined the ship at Darwin it was commanded by Lieutenant Goldsmith, a former merchant navy officer. During Don’s service the ship was usually anchored for up to a month at Abbots Shoal Buoy near Cape Keith on Melville Island some 70 miles from the port. Southern Cross provided accommodation for the harbour pilots who navigated ships in and out of Darwin. After a fortnight, fresh food would run out and fresh water would be rationed.

The inner Darwin harbour was protected from submarines by a boom net of meshed steel wire cable stretching across the harbour from East Point to West Point. Initially 4.6 km long in early 1942 it was later lengthened to 5.6 km. The gate for ships to pass through the net was about 3 kms from East Point. There were also coastal gun batteries to protect Darwin from surface ships, while anti-aircraft batteries were scattered around to defend the town and airfields against Japanese air attacks.

The Southern Cross crew of 30 included several young Victorians who became prominent post-war public figures. Gunner Alan Killigrew (PM5997, born 27 February 1918, demobilised 1 August 1946) later coached both the North Melbourne and Norwood Australian Rules football teams. Supply Assistant Frank (Francis) Galbally (PM6474, born 13 October 1922, demobilised 23 November1945), who had played junior football with the Collingwood Football Club, entered the legal profession and rose to be a Queens Counsel. Sick Berth Attendant Reginald (Doc) Barlow (PA3424, born 31 August 1923, demobilised 11 July 1946) was a member of the well-known Adelaide Barlow Shoes family.

Frank Galbally shared a cabin on the upper deck with the cook, Kanga, who was rather unhygienic. Eventually Frank threw some of the cook’s dirty clothing over the side and had Kanga transferred to another berth. Don then shared the two-berth cabin with Frank for the remainder of his time on Southern Cross.

In later years Don received a letter from his former cabin mate telling the story of the ship’s pigs. Occasionally, the ship’s pilot duties included the carrying supplies to mission stations. Two pigs and other supplies intended for Crocker Island remained onboard after it was evacuated. During their three months on the ship the pigs grew in size. Unlike most ships, beer was issued with tops on allowing some to be hoarded. One night after consuming some of the hoard, the letter writer carried the smaller of the two pigs up two decks to the Captain’s cabin and thrust it into the cabin. The pig’s squeals could be heard throughout the ship as it was ejected by the Captain. Next morning he spoke to the crew, plainly advising them there would be no repeat of the event. Nevertheless, they realised he could see the funny side of it but the privilege of having beer issued unopened was withdrawn.

Generally the food in the Navy was good, particularly in shore establishments. But the beef meat supplied to the Southern Cross was of poor quality. Whilst serving on HMAS Broome, the victualling supply assistant liked pasta, so it featured regularly on the crew’s menu.

As a signalman, Don also assisted with the coding and decoding of signals (messages). Signals sent by radio were encrypted using codes to hide their meaning. It was a painstaking task requiring great concentration, as a mistake could change a signal into a jumble of meaningless characters. On one occasion when the 40 mm Bofors gun (mounted aft) was being fired for practice Don had arranged to be allowed to fire it. But in his haste to finish encrypting a signal advising the ship’s estimated time of arrival, he left out the indicator group and the signal could not be read, so it had to be repeated. He never did get to fire the Bofors.

While serving on the ship, Don represented the Navy at an inter-service swimming carnival in Darwin and played football for the ship’s team. Despite playing well in a practice match for the Navy team he was not selected by the playing coach who kept the coveted centre position for himself.

Naval policy required personnel who had served 12 months in the harsher Northern Territory conditions to be sent south to another draft. Accordingly, Don went ashore to HMAS Melville on 21 May 1945 to travel to his home-port of Port Adelaide. Wartime journeys were often both long and uncomfortable. Don’s journey to Adelaide was no exception, beginning with the 511 km narrow gauge northern Australian railway to Larrimah. This railway was vital and ran up to 247 trains per week during 1944. The next stage of the trip to Alice Springs was by road. Personnel then joined a narrow gauge train to Terowie, where everyone and everything, was transferred to a broad gauge train for the trip to Adelaide. The total journey took four days.

During his leave he was attached to HMAS Torrens, the naval establishment at Port Adelaide, then sent to the personnel pool at HMAS Penguin at Balmoral on 21 June 1944 to wait for his next draft.

Don joined HMAS Broome in Sydney on 3 July 1945, remaining with the ship until January 1946. Broome was an Australian minesweeper of the Bathurst Class, more commonly known as corvettes. Adapted from a British Admiralty design, these ubiquitous vessels served in the Mediterranean Sea, the Persian Gulf, the Indian and Pacific Oceans. From a beginning in June 1940, a total of 60 corvettes were built in Australia – 36 for the RAN, 4 for the Indian Navy and 20, including Broome, on account for the British Admiralty.

Building of HMAS Broome commenced on 3 May 1941 in Brisbane, with the ship entering service on 29 July 1942. She was to serve in Australian and Pacific waters. With a length of 186 feet (56.74 metres), its single steam engine provided a maximum speed of 15 knots (27.7 km/h). Living conditions for the crew of 85 were cramped and in rough weather these ships were very uncomfortable. By 1945, Broome’s armament was a single four-inch gun, two x 20 mm Oerlikon, guns, a 40 mm Bofors gun and machine guns. It carried depth charge chutes and throwers for attacking submarines.

Don’s beginning on Broome was inauspicious. As he stepped aboard in early July 1945 to report, the passing Captain immediately ordered him to pick up a pot of paint and begin painting, without allowing Don to change into working rig (working clothes). In hindsight, the Captain, who had commanded ships at sea since 1941, was probably war weary.

Having just completed a refit (overhaul) at Sydney, the ship returned to New Guinea for escort and anti-submarine duties which took it to Morotai Island, Borneo and the Philippines. As the ship sailed from Zamboanga, Philippines, USAAF Lightning fighter aircraft put on an aerobatic display to mark the end of the war. During the passage south to Morotai, Broome and all other Australian ships received the signal on 15 August 1945 “Japan has surrendered. Cease offensive action. Take all wartime precautions for self defence.”

Later four Australian corvettes were exercising, manoeuvring in formation (also called fleet work) off Morotai, using signal flags to order changes of course, speed and the positions of the ships within the formation. Groups of ships usually move in particular standard formations which are altered to provide maximum mutual protection or to allow them to react against an expected threat. Flag hoists can be difficult to distinguish if they do not stream clearly from their halyards. After several successful manoeuvres, Broome’s signalmen misread the next flag hoist and thus gave the Captain the wrong instruction. Consequently Broome turned onto the opposite course, steaming away from the other three ships. The senior ship immediately signalled “Goodbye”. Broome returned to its correct station (position) as quickly as it could.

On the voyage from Morotai to Tarakan, Broome did a stint as a radio relay ship and was berthed in the harbour at Tarakan. Don went ashore and whilst walking along the jetty he saw a soldier who seemed familiar to him. On approaching him, he was surprised to recognise Sgt Bill Battye (SX23561 Sgt George William Battye), another Victor Harbor serviceman. Bill was a member of the 2/9th Armoured Regiment which had landed on Tarakan during the earlier invasion. They had quite a chat together and Bill remarked the Regiment had a rough time helping the infantry clear the Japanese from the Island and had suffered casualties.

Around this time, Broome was inspected by Admiral Sir Bruce Fraser, Commander in Chief of the British Far East Fleet. Any inspection by an Admiral, even in wartime, is stressful and is preceded by a hectic period of painting, cleaning and preparation to present the ship and its crew at their best. This inspection was no exception.

Between 21-26 August 1945, Broome, with her sister corvettes, conducted minesweeping exercises in Subic Bay in preparation for sweeping to clear Hong Kong and nearby waters. The Captain wanted the signalmen to obtain the names of ship’s Captains but the message was not passed on so Don received a bollocking from the Captain. Don did not get leave in Hong Kong for a week until the Captain’s wrath subsided.

Arriving at Hong Kong on 30 August, these ships were soon joined by others bringing 22 Australian corvettes together to form the 21st and 22nd Minesweeping Flotillas where they carried out minesweeping, anti-piracy and survey duties.

Don was lookout on the ship’s bridge one evening while Broome was anchored off Hong Kong. Seeing a floating square water tank or perhaps a mine drifting towards the ship, Don shook (woke) the Officer of the Day who ordered it sunk by gunfire. Grabbing a Thompson sub-machine gun from the bridge ready-use rack, Don took aim and pulled the trigger which caused the round to explode in the breech. Immediately grabbing another gun, he fired at the object in the water, but being inexperienced with the weapon it kicked up causing the rounds to miss their target.

Broome returned to Morotai in mid-October 1945 to ferry soldiers and stores, followed by searching three islands for missing aircraft. On 18 October, Lieutenant Osborne, until then the ship’s First Lieutenant, assumed command. He was more pleasant to serve under.

Returning to Australia in December 1945, the ship visited the town of Broome over 4-5 January, arriving at Fremantle on 10 January 1946 where HMAS Broome was to be paid off (decommissioned) into reserve. Don left the ship at Fremantle to return to South Australia. This journey was by wartime troop train with most of the men travelling in goods wagons with a steel arch roof and open sides, with straw on the floor for sleeping. The few carriages at the front of the train were allocated to servicewomen and those recovering from wounds or illness. The train had to wait at Cook for three days for floodwaters to disperse. Don offered to cut firewood at the hospital and received a cup of coffee for his efforts. Reaching Adelaide Don reported to HMAS Torrens (Birkenhead Naval Depot) on 25 February 1946 for demobilisation and he was discharged to shore the next day.

For his war service, Don was awarded the following medals: 1939-1945 Star, Pacific Star, the War Medal 1939-1945 and Australian Service Medal 1939-1945. Many years later, in 2007, he received the Philippine Government’s Philippine Liberation Medal awarded to those, including Australians, who participated in the liberation of the Philippines between 17 October 1944 and 2 September 1945.

At his father’s request, Don had been released early from the Navy ahead of other sailors to return to the family building business. Building houses was given high priority to meet the escalating demand to accommodate many newly married couples and the surging birth rate. Post-war immigration also rapidly increased Australia’s population. Later his father, a stonemason, left the building business to manufacture concrete building blocks.

The family business expanded to include a carpentry workshop. Don, who specialised in bricklaying, together with his brother, Ivan, ran the building business. Ivan retired nine years before Don, who carried on the business which became increasingly difficult due to the demands of labour unions.

Don’s football prowess survived naval service. Back home he played a number of games for the Sturt Football Club in the SANFL, then later played for Encounter Bay, where he won Mail Medals for being the fairest and most brilliant player.

On 25 September 1948, Don married Barbara Joy IRELAND and they raised their family of three children.

Don found it difficult to keep in touch with former shipmates. He only marched once on Anzac Day in Adelaide with the Corvettes Association. Of the four former Broome crew members marching that day, only one had served with Don. 

In retrospect, Don now summarises his service in the Navy as “an education”.

References:
Hermon G. GILL, Australia in the War of 1939 -1945, Royal Australian Navy 1939-1942, Australian War Memorial, Canberra, 1957.

Hermon G. GILL, Australia in the War of 1939 -1945, Royal Australian Navy 1942-1945, Australian War Memorial, Canberra, 1968.

Rex RUWOLT, Darwin’s Battle for Australia, Darwin Defenders 1942-45 Inc., Sydney, 2006.

Tom FRAME, No Pleasure Cruise – The Story of the Royal Australian Navy, Allen & Unwin, Sydney. 2004.

Royal Australian Navy Website ( www.navy.gov.au ) – history section.

Lesley AVERY, The Rumbelows of Encounter Bay, 150 Years of the family in Australia.

Service file of PA4497 Donald John BARTEL downloaded from the National Archives of Australia ( www.naa.gov.au ).

Compiled by the RSL Victor Harbor Sub-branch History Research Team, September 2017.

Victor Harbor Oral History Project

Interviewer: Joan Sandford

Donald Bartel on 21st October 2014 

You were born here in Victor Harbor? 

DB: I was born down in Encounter Bay.  The house is still there which my Father built actually, and that’s right down the bottom end of  Tabernacle Road as you turn to the Bluff, it’s the house on the corner. 

Coming from this way, do you mean the first house? 

DB: Right on the corner as you turn, at the bottom end of Tabernacle Road and go towards the Bluff. And then while I was away at the war, he sold that and when I got home I helped him build the  second house at the back. The funny thing about this house at the front which everybody likes to be on the seafront, Dad didn’t want to live there because of the sea wind; he didn’t like it. So he sold it and  moved back off the front. 

That’s unusual isn’t it? So, born at Encounter Bay, I suppose, did they have a hospital there or a  nursing home, or birthing home? 

DB: It was at home. 

I believe your Mum was a Rumbelow?

DB: That’s right she was; one of eight. 

One of eight; so who was her Father? 

DB: I think his name was Malen; there were several Malens. They were a fishing family; they came here  early. They lost a lot of them, drowned at sea and that sort of thing.  

On one occasion they’d been down to Kangaroo Island fishing just before Christmas trying to get a bit of Christmas money. Three of them on the boat and they were coming back, I think it was Christmas Eve  and they got in a bit close of Waitpinga Beach during the night, got caught in the waves, went ashore.  Uncle Wal was never found. Uncle Dave was drowned and Uncle Lionel managed to get  right out and climb right back up on to the back of the Honeymans. So that was a nasty episode. 

Losing two of the family right on Christmas. Bad enough at any time; mm, nasty. So we’ll go back  to your story. You were born down there and you were second in the family? 

DB: Yes. 

Just the two boys? 

DB: That’s right. 

You and your brother Ivan?

DB: That’s right. 

Ivan’s older? 

DB: Ivan’s six years older than me. 

He, of course, is not with us now. 

DB: No, no. I stayed there until the war, I stayed home. 

Is that the first house or the second house? 

DB: No, the first one. It was interesting back those days. I joined up and I was accepted just before I  turned eighteen, but they never called me up until I turned eighteen. It was quite an experience because  one of my big trips from there was to go to Victor Harbor. (Laughs) 

To enlist? 

DB: Yeah. 

Right. 

DB: I enlisted in Adelaide actually. The Navy was a real education for me because I had to get out and  stand on my own feet a bit. That was interesting. 

And where did you do your training, in Melbourne? 

DB: Down at Cerberus. 

And what happened then? 

DB: From there I went to Darwin. I was in Darwin for twelve months. I was on a six months at the Signal  Station there and then I had six months on a little old tub called the Southern Cross. We had a crew of  thirty odd on that. 

You mentioned before at the start of the interview that you wanted to be a signalman. Tell me  how you got there. 

DB: When I went to join up they asked me what branch I’d like to be in and I said that I’d like to be a  signalman. They said, “Oh, well have you got your Intermediate?”  And I said, “No, only First Year.”  They said, “You’ll have to do an exam then.” 

I sat down, did this exam which I could have passed in Grade 1 – there was no trouble! (Laughs) Typical exam!  So I went over to Cerberus. I passed without much trouble. 

To be a signalman did you have to learn Morse code? 

DB: Morse code, semaphore, coding, that sort of thing. 

Is semaphore the flags? I’m a bit younger!

DB: Yes, but mostly we used lights on the boats. I’ll tell you one funny incident when we were in, after  the War finished we were, they tried to find things for us to do, we were still up in the Islands. There were  three or four corvettes, which I was on a corvette at the time. They took us out on exercises and we were  steaming along in line-ahead. 

What does that mean? One behind the other? 

DB: One behind the other. The leading ship is the commanding officer at that time. They hoist signals as  to what you’re going to do. As each one down the, you have to be able to read the signals from the start, the flags, then the next ship understands and they put theirs up and the next one and so on. We were at  the tail end and we were having a bit of trouble reading it because the flags weren’t blowing out too well.  Anyway, yeah, we’ve got it. So up they went. Execute. They all went to port and we went to starboard! I  thought great! Next thing we got a signal from the leader and it started: Good I thought, hallo, we’ve  done alright then, bye! We had to turn round and face them. (Laughs) 

So the flags got mixed up on the way? 

DB: Yeah, they did. 

Like that whisper thing, where you keep on whispering and the message changes. 

DB: Then, at the finish, actually we were up at Zampagna in the southern Philippines when the War  finished, we were coming back down to Morotai and then they decided they were goin’ to send us to  Hong Kong with the Occupation Force. So we went up to Subic Bay. Up until then we’d been attached to  the American Second Fleet, working with them. 

Subic Bay was a big American base and there were over three hundred ships in harbour when we got  there. And there were about oh, probably eight or something of us. 

There were four English submarines, three Australian corvettes and a Canadian armed Merchant  Cruiser, and we all lined up and went to Hong Kong. Well we anchored out of Hong Kong the first night  because we had to sweep the channel in; we were mine sweepers, to see that it was safe for going in. 

The next morning we got up and couldn’t believe it, there were battleships, cruisers, aircraft carriers,  anchored all round us waiting to go in. 

Waiting for you to clear the way? 

DB: Yeah. Anyway we did the sweeping, I think we only got about one mine. Well one blew up the stern  of one of the corvettes. Messed up the steering, had to get towed back to Australia. We went in, I think  we were second or third in line going in to Hong Kong Harbour. When we got in there was only one ship  there and that was an old Japanese destroyer. So we went in and anchored. By the next morning there  were one hundred and ten ships in there. 

After you’d cleared it? 

DB: Yep. 

So when you found a mine, what did you do? 

DB: We used to – we had paravanes out the sides they had a long steel cable out to this thing at the end  and they’d go under the water and cut the mines off, cut the lines off the mines and then they’d float to  the surface. 

Right. Then you could detonate them? 

DB: Yep. 

So the mines were anchored to something?

DB: Yep.  Although once coming back from up there I was on watch and we were searching for a plane that had  come down with, they were bringing injured back. I saw something floating in towards the shore and I  said to my Officer of the Watch, “There’s something in there, I don’t know just what it is floating.” 

He pulled up and he said, “That looks like a mine.” So he sent a motor-boat away to have a look at it.  They got over as close as they could and came back and said that yes it’s an old Japanese mine. We  had some Army officers on board up on the bridge and they said, “What do you do?” 

He said, “Oh we sink it with rifle fire. We just put a hole in it and it goes down.” So, Bang, bang, bang  next thing up went the mine, hit one of the horns on it and it exploded in shallow water, splashed water  all over us, it was a mess for a while! (Laughs) 

It didn’t do us any harm, but gave us a bit of a shake. 

You were about nineteen by this time I suppose? 

DB: I might have been twenty by then. 

Yes, what an experience. 

DB: Yeah. At that stage, we had been attached to the American Second Fleet but then we were  attached to the American, British Pacific Fleet, so we had a few changes around. It was interesting. 

And did you leave Hong Kong to come back to Australia? 

DB: Yes. 

That was the end of it? 

DB: Yeah, that was pretty much it. When we were in Hong Kong Harbour there was a typhoon alert and  they said the big ships leave the harbour, the small ones can please themselves, whether they go out or  stay in. We had as much chance in the harbour as we did out. Anyway, it didn’t hit us there but about a  day later, we started to head home and we were coming down the Philippine coast. Three of us in line ahead and it hit us. Oh boy! I’ve never seen sea like it. Rough, wind, shocking! 

You were in a relatively small boat, a corvette?  

DB: Yeah. 

A corvette is not very big is it? 

DB: That night when I turned in I wasn’t feeling very well. Got up in the morning and it was like that.  Absolute flat. 

Goodness. 

DB: It changed that quick it had gone. 

And then after the war, what then? 

DB: We came down where possible. We came into Darwin and re-fuelled which was interesting seeing  as I’d been there before. Then we, the corvette’s name was the Broome. And where possible the ships  called into harbours where they were named after so we called in to Broome and spent a couple of days  there. They put on a meal at the pub for us and that kind of thing. Then we just came down the coast into  Fremantle and we were paid off.

Like a more leisurely tour home. 

DB: Oh yeah. By this time we only had one officer left, the Captain, who eventually lived down here. I got  to know him quite well. So there was no discipline at the finish we just did virtually what we liked. 

You would have been mates by then. 

DB: Pretty much. Yeah, yeah. I had one funny experience with him. I had to, I was the only  signalman left at this stage and I had to go up to the Signal Station at Fremantle to see if there were any  signals there for us and then I’d go back on board. Then sometimes I’d just phone them through and I  was talking to a WRAN on the phone one day and putting the signal through. 

Who’s that? The Captain? 

DB: No a WRAN. It got towards the end and it was a long one and she couldn’t get it all on one page. “Just wait til I  turn over.” And I made a rude comment about her turning over. Then you had to give your name.  (Laughs) 

And when she gave hers I thought oh, that’s the Captain’s girlfriend! So I was a bit embarrassed. I  thought I’d better say something about it and when I was speaking to him the next day I said, “I made a  bit of a blue yesterday and I told him what happened.” 

He said, “Don’t worry about it, she’s broad-minded!” (Laughs) 

We had a few funny things happen. Then we came, when I’d finished there, came home by train and  across. Just in old cattle trucks with a round roof on the top with bits of straw on the bottom for sleeping  and there was flooding and we spent four days in Cook before we could get across. 

Oh, really. 

DB: Yeah. 

I suppose there were no windows in the cattle truck. 

DB: No. 

How many would have been on the train? 

DB: I don’t know. There was a good many of us, quite a few carriages. They had WRANs and AWAs  and different ones and they got a bit of a decent carriage. Well, anyone who’d had an injury got a  decent carriage. 

Actually I got out of the Navy a bit earlier than I should’ve. We joined up for the duration of the  War and six months after or three years whichever were the longest. I hadn’t quite had my three years  and because Dad was in the building and they needed builders they got me out a bit early. 

Back to Victor Harbor. 

DB: Back to Victor Harbor. 

Quiet, in those days it would have been quiet here. 

DB: It was, heavens. 

We should go back – We didn’t  mention about school. 

DB: Well for one thing, where the Lakes are down there now, that used to just flood. The whole area and  Dad said, “They’ll never build on there, never build there.” And look at it now. 

I suppose it’s been gouged out. 

DB: Oh yes, that was Herb Smith’s land. He was a farmer and I used to ride across there on my bike to  go to school. And up Tabernacle Road sometimes used to go up there but that was just a metal road and  all down from Tabernacle Road, back this way was just sandhills. You couldn’t get through there at all  along the front. 

It’s a lot different now. 

DB: Then another little interesting thing about how the place has changed. We were building contractors  so we’ve seen it all happening. I lived down by the Hindmarsh River, it was my first home. Barb, my wife,  said, “When are you going to build again?” 

“When you find a block with a view.” It was only a week or so and she found this one. I said to my  brother, I’ve bought a block of land up there, up on the hill. Going to build up there. He said, “What? Why  you moving so far out of town?” Look at it now. (Laughs). 

Three streets from the river isn’t it? 

DB: Yeah, yeah. He couldn’t believe I was coming away up here. There were very few houses there at  that time. 

It’s been a very good choice. It’s a beautiful spot. It’s a big block too. 

DB: Oh, I’ve been happy here. It is a big block. I’ll stay here while I can handle it. And I’ll say this,  Veteran Affairs are extremely good. They help you no end with the Gold Card. I’ve got a cleaning lady  once a fortnight for two hours and that costs me, I’m not sure if it’s four or five dollars. 

Goodness me. 

DB: Another one, Vanessa. She calls twice a year. She’s under contract to them, just comes to see if  you need anything. 

Really?

DB: She comes up with all sorts of suggestions. The last one when she was here last, she said, “How  you going?” 

 “I’m alright,” I said, “I don’t need anything.” She’s got lots of things for me along the way. And I said  something about I’ve been doing the washing. It’s a bit wet, things aren’t drying too well. 

“Well,” she said, “you’ve got a good shed out there you want one of those folding clotheslines”. Right. I said, “That’d be nice and I see when I got it down I see when it came, $190.00. That was nothing. No, no, because of your service, you could have given your life. 

Doctors, dentists, none of them cost me anything. 

Very good. 

DB: So it’s saved thousands I’d say. 

But you took a risk didn’t you? 

DB: Yeah, well we did what we were asked to do, wanted to do. 

So you came back and you worked with your Dad. 

DB: Yep. 

So you hadn’t been building up until then? I suppose you might have. 

DB: I had started, I’d had probably three years with him. 

OK. 

DB: I had a fair idea of the building trade by then. Yeah. Then I came back, playing. While I was away in  the Navy, when I was on the old Southern Cross up in Darwin, we only had thirty odd in the crew but we  had Frank Galbally. He was a big-time crime bloke in Melbourne and Alan Killigrew. He played interstate  for Victoria. 

Really? 

DB: Another chap from Western Australia played in the League over there. 

Really? 

DB: So with thirty odd crew we had a mighty good side. Our Captain, who came from Sydney I think, he  knew nothing about it. 

This is the football? 

DB: Yeah but we’d get a chance if a ship would come in and we’d see if we’d get a game of footie with  them. And we were going alright and to finish up he thought, he said, ”Yeah, you’re doing alright.” He  said, “When another one comes in, signal up, signal the Captain and tell him you’d like a game of footie  and I’ll have a crate of beer with him.” (Laughs) 

He was getting a crate of beer out of it. He thought it was great, so he wanted us to play footie.  (Laughs)  When I was on the Broome, not that we got a chance to play footie much, but I became the captain of the football team on there. 

When you got on land I suppose. 

DB: Yeah, up in Ambon we played one or two games. That’s about the only time. 

And when you came home you played football here? 

DB: I played for Encounter Bay until I was thirty-nine. 

Did you? 

DB: In between I played a few games for Sturt, in Adelaide. I was captain/coach two years straight. We  were premiers one year and runners-up the next. I’d had enough of that. I played as captain, I don’t  know how many years, a good many years. We won a few premierships so we did alright. I’m still  involved, in fact they honoured me this last year. They named the Best and Fairest Medal for the Club, the Don Bartel Medal. 

Wonderful. That’s nice. 

DB: So that’s rather nice. 

And Ivan, your brother, he played footie too? 

DB: Yeah. Not so much, but he did. He used to play in the dance band here a lot. 

He played the violin. Really? 

DB: Yeah. He was in the Army so we both had our time. 

Do you play any musical instruments? 

DB: No. No. Unfortunately I haven’t got much in the way of hobbies now either. Kym comes and sees  me quite often. Now I’m going up to Philip for eleven weeks actually. Eleven, not weeks, days! 

Whereabouts is he? 

DB: He’s up on the Gold Coast. 

OK. 

DB: He’s a paramedic up there. He’s coming down next Saturday, he’s coming back to school reunion  here. He’s only coming for five days and then I’m going back with him up there for the eleven days. Then  his elder son, who’s doing Law up there, getting well on with his course, he’s coming back down with me  to spend two weeks with Kym in his office as part of his course. 

OK. 

DB: And then he advised me, that was just for two weeks, then he was going to stay with me. That will be good. 

DB: And I got a phone call from him the other day and he said, “Papa, when I come down Mum and Dad  are going to be in Hawaii, Brendan, his brother, is doing engineering, is going overseas for three months  so I don’t want to be here on my own so I’m going to stay six weeks with you.” 

How old is he? 

DB: He’d be twenty-two I think. The other one’s turning twenty-one while I’m up there. 

And what’s he doing? 

DB: He’s the one doing engineering. 

Oh, OK. 

DB: And he’s very clever. 

Is he? 

DB: His last five results were three High Distinctions and two Distinctions. 

Do you know what I’ve noticed, I might be wrong. You and your brother had two and you had two  sons and I think your sons had two sons. Is that right? 

DB: That’s right. 

No girls. 

DB: No. 

Strange. 

DB: Kym’s got two girls. 

Oh, has he. 

DB: The interesting one there, just recently Amy, the younger one, she just got married in Bali. Did she?  Kym said, “You can come up if you like, it’s up to you. It’s a long trip, we understand and really,  we’re just having some of the close family.” And then they had a celebration down here when they came  home. 

Oh OK. 

DB: Quite a crowd there, that was good. One interesting thing about that was, they found out, just before  they were leaving because neither of them were involved in churches and they wouldn’t marry them up  there without genuine proof they were genuine. And two hours before they caught the plane they got  married in the Registry Office in Adelaide. (Laughs) 

So they had three ceremonies? 

DB: Yeah. And then I said to Kym, well, we were talking about it, “Well we possibly could have got  around it but we would have had to get a solicitor up there.”  I said, “You want to keep away from them!” (Laughs)  He laughed.

Him being a solicitor! It sounds as though you’ve gone from the building trade to legal and engineering. 

And another, I’m talking about the family all the time. 

That’s alright. 

DB: Christine, who unfortunately died when she was about fifty-eight. 

Who was Christine? 

DB: She was our daughter, oh we did have a daughter. 

Oh, OK. 

DB: She was a lovely girl, that’s her up there, that painting. 

Oh, beautiful. 

DB: Courtney, who was quite a clever girl, she finished up Headmaster of Westminster in Adelaide and  now she’s up on the Gold Coast. 

So where does Courtney fit? 

DB: She’s granddaughter. 

Christine’s daughter? 

DB: Yep. She works for Channel 9 up there. She does the News and various things. I was talking to  Philip she’s just been over to France with her partner, who’s a helluva nice bloke, for the World  Championship Surfing and he won a silver medal, so he did well.  Now Philip says that since she got back the head girl at Channel 9 either got put off or left and  they’ve made her head girl for the present for six months.  For six months just for a trial period. So she’s doing alright. 

Very good. So there are some girls there, not all boys. 

DB: No, Kym’s got the two girls of course. A funny thing about that, at the celebration they had up here,  Sue, Kym’s wife, oh, they did a lot of work, a tremendous amount of work. When it was finished I said to  Sue, “Well I said, you’ve got one married, now, I said, you’ve got Lisa and she had a new boyfriend, a  terrific fellow there, I said, she’ll be next. 

“Oh,” she said,” I hope she elopes.” (Laughs) 

So much work in it. 

DB: But I’ve had a good life here and I remember down there, you know the old boatshed and various  things on the beach there. 

Do you? 

DB: Used to go in the boat a lot with them.

Did you go swimming out on the baths, out on the Causeway? 

DB: I did. Uncle Eric Rumbelow used to run that and I used to teach swimming there in the summer.  Yeah. I did a lot of swimming. 

The fenced area was fairly large? 

DB: Yep, what was it in the old days, what were they? Thirty-three and a third yards or something. 

Would that be Olympic size? 

DB: No a little bit smaller. He coached me a lot and I came second in the Swim through Adelaide when I  was fourteen. 

Did you? 

DB: And then I won the State junior championships when I was a Junior in Adelaide. 

And was that in the River? 

DB: No, that was in the Olympic pool in Adelaide. 

Was that the Baths in King William Street? 

DB: Yes, yes. 

I vaguely remember that being there. 

DB: I did a lot of swimming. Then after the War I just gave it up. 

Did you? What about down the beachfront? Do you remember the kiosks and things that were  along there? 

DB: Yep, I do. In fact, Barb, my wife’s parents used to run it. 

Did they? 

DB: Yeah. 

What was their name? 

DB: Ireland. There used to be games there too, on the lawns. Roll ‘em’ up and Knock ‘em down. Those  sort of games and my Father used to run that. 

Really? 

DB: There was a merry-go-round there. 

Yes, I remember, the horses went up and down. 

DB: That’s the one. 

I liked that one. 

DB: Yep. So we used to get there a bit.

Yes, I’m particularly interested if you can remember the kiosk, it was sort of open in my memory.  My Grandfather used to go up and get a big tray with teapot and everything. 

DB: Yep. Well that’s probably there’s two; one where it is now and one across where that Interpretive  Centre, or whatever it’s called, on the other corner. 

Behind the tram barn? 

DB: Well that was the longer one and it was probably more open. You could go and sit along inside and  have your tea and scone or whatever they served there. They were there for quite a few years. Barb  and her sister used to work in there. I used to get a free milkshake occasionally. 

Did they do meals or was it just sandwiches and things. 

DB: No, not they’d do a pie or a pasty, that sort of a thing. 

What about the changes in Victor Harbor? A lot different now. 

DB: Oh yes. Ocean Street a lot of old buildings have gone from there. Old Pipiriki round the front, was a  big old two-storey there. 

There were some beautiful old buildings weren’t there? 

DB: Oh there were. They’ve disappeared. Even a lot of the buildings we did, and we did a lot of  buildings, they’re getting knocked down and replaced now. 

Really. 

DB: Yeah. 

You built in stone didn’t you? 

DB: No, brick mainly. Dad was a stone mason. 

Did you do the woodwork part of it as well? 

DB: We employed, we had carpenters, we had a workshop down opposite the Hospital at one stage. We  had our own carpenters. My brother really, his main thing was tiling. He tiled bathrooms and I looked  after the other part. We had up to ten men working for us. 

Did you? 

DB: Yeah. It was pretty busy at one stage. 

You’ve been responsible for a lot of buildings here, then. 

DB: Oh yes. Here and all round the district. Elliot, Goolwa, Strathalbyn, over in from Willunga Hill, we did  two or three in there. 

So if you were building at Strathalbyn did you stay up there whilst you were building or did you  come back every day? 

DB: No, we didn’t, people, the one, the only really one we built there was for a chap McGraney. He  used to work down here and then he was up there as a carpenter and when we went up we got a  caravan and some of the blokes slept in that. Some of us in the house and they put us up meals so it  was pretty good. 

OK. It would have been too far to commute back and forth.

DB: It was in those days, yeah. When we were building here, there was three or four builders I suppose  and with the roads and that, we didn’t have any trouble with Adelaide people. We were building lots of  holiday homes that people would build with the idea that they would retire here. So we had it pretty good  but then they got the roads better and they all started travelling down. Competition got a bit tougher, I  started to wear out and thought, that’s it I’ve had enough. 

So you built with brick, did you have a brickworks here? 

DB: There was at Port Elliot. There was a bit of a story to that too. I forget his name now he was a bit of  a character too. At one stage we reckoned we weren’t getting the number of bricks, we always seemed  to be short. I spoke to the chap driving the truck and he said, “Look, I shouldn’t say this but we’ve been  told that 1000 bricks is 900 when we’re loading.” They used to come along and would pull by hand, the  unloading, and they’d stack them but towards the end the stack would get knocked over. He said that  they were told to do that so we couldn’t count them so easily. 

Come Christmas, or just before Christmas we got an account from him and told him, we’re not getting  the numbers, something’s not right. Oh, he carried on a bit and finally he made us an allowance. He  admitted we were right. A chap in Adelaide owned the brick kiln. 

He went down, a lad from Port Elliot used to drive the truck and he was telling us after. He said that we went down and he said he wanted to go and see the boss down there. Said that we pulled up, he got in  behind the seat, pulled out a rifle, went in and “Bang!”, shot the bloke, come out and said, “Get going!”  Killed him. 

Really?

DB: Yeah. 

Did he get charged? 

DB: Oh yeah, he got gaoled. 

Goodness. That was the boss in Adelaide came. 

DB: No, the boss in Adelaide he killed. It was the manager of the brick kiln up here. Apparently they’d a  fall out or something. So he shot him. 

You don’t do that every day do you? 

DB: No. The lad driving the truck said that when he came out he threw the rifle in and said, “Get going!”  And he said, “I did too!” (Laughs). The police caught them before they got home. 

There wasn’t a lot of crime around in those days was there? 

DB: No, no, very little, very little. There wasn’t the population. See I think it was when I was down in  Encounter Bay I think the population of the area was about 1,200. 

Right. 

DB: We knew everybody along the way. Everybody out at Encounter Bay I called auntie or uncle. I was  never far out. (Laughs) 

But being from two local families. 

DB: Yep. 

Did your Dad come from around here? 

DB: No. He came from up Eudunda way. 

Your German background. 

DB: That’s right. Yep. 

His name was Friedrich, that’s right isn’t it? 

DB: That’s right Friedrich Johannes I think it was. 

Definitely a German name. 

DB: Frederickrick John we knew him as more. 

Yes. 

DB: That’s where I got the John from I guess. 

I guess so, tend to follow it down, don’t you

DB: But he was a very good stonemason, a good general builder. He made a good job of that house  down there, it’s still standing. 

Which one’s that? 

DB: The one where I was born. 

Oh yes, yes. 

DB: Still looks good. 

And they eventually, your grandparents, your parents I mean, lived in Granite Street you said. 

DB: Yeah they did. Well Dad, Mum died, my Mum died there. 

Did she? 

DB: Yeah. And we were just along the road towards the river. 

On the other side? 

DB: Mm. On the corner, opposite the kindergarten. 

Oh, right? 

DB: And at that time, when we built there, that was just a sand track down through there. Couldn’t get  through there with a car. 

Really? 

DB: So things change. 

What sort of transport did you have in those early days? 

DB: Oh, Dad, Dad always, he had an old Dodge ute for awhile and I think the last thing he had was a  Bedford ute.  After the War when we came home, I hadn’t had anything up till then, I wanted something and you  couldn’t buy cars, you had to have special permits and things to get a car. 

It was hard even to buy a second-hand one and finally actually I saw an MG in Adelaide, a new one.  Boy, it would do me but I didn’t have the money for it and no-one would lend me the money to get it, so I  finished up with a motorbike. Which wasn’t a particularly good idea. 

It got you around I suppose. 

DB: Yep I never came off it so that was something. 

Did it have a sidecar? 

DB: No. 

And after you got married did you have a car then?

DB: I got a car just before we were married; a little Austin 8. It was good too. Since then I’ve had God  knows how many cars. 

That’s the way it goes isn’t it. 

DB: But that’s what happened with Barb to finish, she had dementia. 

That’s a shame. 

DB: It’s a terrible thing. I kept her home here as long as I possibly could but I knew she was starting to  perhaps forget a few things. She had her own car, we had two cars, she used to drive. One day she  came home – she hadn’t been out long. She came in tears. I said, “What’s wrong?” 

She said, “It’s just I was going to see Betty Mahoney,” they used to paint together. Barb was a pretty  good artist, she did nearly all this stuff. Betty Mahoney was a very good one too and she knew Betty  well. 

They used to spend a lot of time together painting and that but she said, “I went out and I couldn’t find  Betty Mahoney’s place” She said, “I got lost.” She’d run into the kerb and she came home in a real state  and that’s when we spoke to Clive Fowler. He said that she can’t drive any more so we had to sell that  car, and she went down fairly quickly from then on. 

Did she still paint? 

DB: As long as she could but she’d got bad arthritis at the finish in her hands but she kept a record of  the paintings she did until towards the end. She didn’t really, right at the finish, but she had a record of  3,000 paintings. She’d sold them all round Australia, America, Canada, Scotland, England, France, Hong  Kong. 

Did she do that one of your daughter? 

DB: No, Alfred Engel did that. 

It’s beautiful isn’t it? 

DB: Yep but anything else in here she did. 

The flowers there? 

DB: Yep. 

That’s gorgeous, beautiful. 

DB: They’re all up along the passage, the bedroom. I actually put a room out the back there because she started off, she was painting just in that little  back porch there. It used to get in such a mess. I added out the back and it became a gallery and a  studio. 

Oh really? 

DB: She spent a lot of time out there. Still quite a few paintings there actually. 

Are there? 

DB: Yeah. I sold a few of them after but I’ve decided now that I’ll just keep them, the family can have  them later on. They’ve all got paintings but they can do what they like with them. 

And let them sort it out later.

DB: Yep. 

And by then there might be more in the family too, to share that haven’t already got some. 

DB: Possible, quite possible. 

Can you think of anything else? 

DB: I probably will after you go.  We can always do it again. (Laughs) 

It’s very interesting, as things have changed so much, haven’t they? 

DB: They have, they have. Yeah, with the building, we employed and trained a number who went out on  their own eventually and did alright. 

And some of them probably are still working here. 

DB: Yep, well, I don’t know that they’re working. I think they’ve all got a bit old now. Well Ken, possibly some of his. Tim Telfer, he was another one went out  on his own, building. 

Ken Collins, is he the Ken you referred to? 

DB: Yes. Oh, there are others; Reg Arnold, I don’t know if you know of Reg. He was our foreman – carpenter for some time. 

Is he still around? 

DB: Yep. Then we built the workshop just down from the Hospital there and eventually we sold that to  him and Sid Griffin and they’d become sub-contractors to us then. 

Talking about the Hospital, there was an earlier hospital somewhere else, I think. 

DB: Yeah, in the town just up, somewhere opposite the Masonic Hall, somewhere up one of those  streets. 

Like in a cottage hospital was it? 

DB: Mm. 

Do you read or anything like that much? 

DB: I do. Generally, when I go to bed, I read and that helps me get to sleep. 

It’s good isn’t it? 

DB: When it starts dropping in my face I know it’s time to put the light out. 

Yes, I do that. 

DB: But I’ve been pretty lucky healthwise fortunately so I’ve done quite well. 

Yes, to get to eighty-nine you’ve done pretty well haven’t you? 

DB: Yep. 

And you’re still looking pretty healthy. 

DB: Yep. Actually I reckon I’ve been better lately than I was, so that’s something. I’m doing alright. 

Well, I think we’ve just about covered everything we can think of. 

DB: I haven’t given you much but. 

You’ve done well. 

DB: You’ll get something out of it. 

Thank you very much for talking to me. 

Interview 2 with Don Bartel. 

DB: Fishing down at Encounter Bay with the Rumbelow family. Well I used to spend a lot of time out in  the boat. Graham Rumbelow was my cousin and we used to go out a lot but Uncle Ween, Malen  Rumbelow, he was a top notch.

And what did you call him, Uncle Ween? 

DB: Yeah. And he was a top notch mullet fisherman, back those days when they used to haul round the fish. It was quite common for them to catch a hundred dozen. Yeah, heaps. Then unfortunately they  had the little old, I don’t know if you’ve ever seen the photo of the old fish shed they had on the seafront  there in front of where the shop is now? 

At Yilki? 

DB: Yeah.  My Father used to go there and buy fish.  And they used to bring the fish in and put them in there and cover them with seaweed and  wet it all down and then they had to get them down to the train and go to Adelaide. Half the time if we got  stinking hot weather they wouldn’t take them in Adelaide. 

No ice, mm. 

DB: No ice, so that used to cost them a bit of money. 

There were a lot more fish around then. 

DB: I remember another time too, with the cray-fishing, Graham and I, school kids, we used to have a  Craypot, perhaps two, that we could just row out and set. 

Graham Rumbelow? 

DB: Yep and we’d sell the crayfish and I forget, six pence each I think they were. One day, we had a  craypot out towards Wright’s Island there and when we went and picked it, it was nearly full of crays. We  couldn’t believe it! They were all undersize but it was just about full of them. We were that excited and  what had happened, Uncle Li used to set his pots down at West Island and he’d kept  all the small ones on his way home and put them in our pot! (Laughs) 

That was a trick. 

DB: It was.  Another time we were out there, there was an old wreck from the early days, one of the big ones,  just not far out there and we set a pot on that. When we pulled it there was a great octopus in it. We  didn’t know what to do so we tied it just over the stern, rowed like mad for the beach. We got in there and  pulled the boat up and went round and the pot and octopus had gone! (Laughs) 

When you say it was a big one, how big roughly? 

DB: The octopus? Oh it had a big span I suppose, long legs. 

Did you often catch octopus? 

DB: We used to get a few. Kym, my son, he still goes out and sets craypots. He’s got David Virgin, he  was one of the Virgins the builders, and he’s got a boat up there. He doesn’t use a lot himself, if he’s  home he goes out with Kym, otherwise he lets Kym use it. Another chap, used to be a butcher, Trevor  he was a butcher, he goes with Kym and they set pots and get a few crays. 

Is that the butcher in the little? 

DB: No, he was down, I think there’s a baker down there now, across from the Crown there. Trevor,  Would it have been Richards or some name like that? 

That’s not the one I’m thinking of. 

DB: He hasn’t been there for some time, but he goes. They enjoy it, they do a little bit of fishing out here too. I had boats, one after the other, different types, different sizes. Finally, a chap down the road moved  down here and he’s keen on fishing he said, so he’d go with me. We went out seven times I reckon I  took him and he’s seasick six times. (Laughs) 

He was good, “No, I’m alright, no, no I’ll be alright.” He would stick it out but to finish it got too much and  then I had no-one going with me and I was feeling a bit old and this ramp down here is a terrible place. 

It’s not really safe on your own is it? 

DB: One day I was sitting here and I looked out to Barb and it was calm, beautiful and I said, “Dammit,  I’m goin’ out in the boat.” Off I went and it was flat calm, no swell or anything there. Went out, fished, got  a nice feed of fish and come in. By then the tide had changed and it was washing up on the beach and I  pulled the bow on the beach and went up to get the trailer. By the time I come back she’d washed up on  dry sand, side on like that. Talk about struggle to get it floated. I came home, I was always fussy with it,  gave a good wash down, a good clean up, cleaned the fish and I come in and I said to Barb, “Well, I’m  buggered, and that’s it, I’m going to sell it, I’ve had enough of this.” So I took it back up to Goolwa where  I bought it, “Yeah we’ll sell that for you.” 

Was it a motor boat or a row boat? 

DB: No, motor, canopy and all sorts of (?), it was a nice boat. It had a decent motor. “Yeah, we’ll sell  that.” Anyway it’d been there a while and hadn’t sold and Barb and I were goin’ for a drive one day and I  said, “I’ll just have a look in and see how it’s looking, see if it’s clean.” Yeah, they were looking after it  and I said to the bloke, “Look if you haven’t sold it by Christmas I’ll take it home and I’ll use it over the  summer or I’ll sell it from home.” 

“Fair enough,” he said. So I said that I’d leave it here for another couple of weeks. A week or two later I  was goin’ up to Goolwa again and I thought that I’d go and have another look. When I looked it had quite  a big sign on the side, “Urgent Sale, Doctor’s bills to pay!” He sold it that week! (Laughs) 

That’s a good one. 

DB: I laughed. “Yeah,” he said, “I’ve got a few tricks.” 

Saved you the bother. 

DB: We used to go the Coorong and that a lot, fishing up there. Barb would go with me sometimes. Had  a lot of fun fishing. 

Might be in your blood, the Rumbelow part of your blood. 

DB: That was another thing in the Navy. When the War finished they let us keep a few detonators on  board we could use for whatever we liked and we used to go fishing with them. One time we’re coming  to this reef, looked it all up on the charts of course, opened her up and away we went. Had to get  speed up so you could get clear of it, but apparently it wasn’t very deep and it went off and it nearly blew  us out of the water and then looking there was fish everywhere! Away went the motor-boat, when they  got out there they were flying fish and they were coming good! (Laughs) Didn’t get many of them. 

They’d only stunned them?

DB: Yeah. 

They would have been big too, wouldn’t they? 

DB: We had them on one occasion we had them. It was stinking hot weather and sometimes we’d leave  the porthole open. The Mess I was in wasn’t far out of the water and we couldn’t do it but somehow we  got a helluva smell in our little dormitory, it was quite small, nowhere near as big as this room. There was  ten of us in it and we had a sewing machine in there, and what’s the smell? I searched and searched  and searched and finally I found a flying fish in behind the machine. Got in there and it’d gone off a bit. 

Not a good smell. What did you have the sewing machine for? 

DB: Oh, someone must have decided they wanted to do a bit of sewing. 

It had to be bolted down did it? 

DB: I guess it was. 

I think everything would be secured in a boat. 

DB: Oh, had to be. But you know, it was, well, when I say, it wouldn’t have been, not from here forward  the size of the room we were in nor that wide and ten of us. We were all watchkeepers so we were on  watches at different times, so we were never all in there at the one time, so we got away with it. We were  coming out of Subic Bay, it was stinking hot and had the porthole open and it was Captain’s inspection  on a Saturday morning. Used to come round and see if everything’s alright. We’d just got out a bit and  got in a swell, through the porthole. Boy was there a scramble getting that water out. Before inspection, we would have been in deep trouble. 

One other little story I’ll tell you. This Captain we had on the Broome, he was a horrible bloke. I think he  was getting old and I think he was in ill-health but he was nasty. And from the day I stepped on board  they told me I had to look, they said ,”You’ll be for it. He’s always had it in for a signalman and it looks  like you’re the one.” 

I stepped on board with my hammock, in my Number One uniform, he collared me,  he said, ”Up to the paint locker and get some paint and up on the bridge and start painting.” 

I didn’t have time to change, I’m up there with paint going, it was not pleasant at all. And then as time  went on we just didn’t get on and we’re in Subic Bay actually with all these ships and the chap that was  on watch before me, two Australian corvettes went past, went up the harbour and they’d gone out of  sight by the time I got there and he said that there’d been two went through. We were that busy with  signals, we had a coder there taking them around for us. He took one down to the Captain and he come  back and he said, “Captain wants to know who the commanding officers were on those corvettes.” 

I said, “I don’t know, he never put anything in the log, and never told me anything about ‘em.” So he went  back and told him I didn’t know.

He said, “He’s useless, he’s goin’ mad down there.” 

I said, “I’ll go down and see the silly old sod.” I stepped in and he jumped and nearly landed on top of me  and red in the face and spittin’ and splutterin’ and yellin’ at me. 

Fortunately the signal officer was there too and at the finish it was just wore me down that much I  couldn’t take it any more and just stood there lookin’ and guttin’, “Yeah, yeah.” 

No yes sir or anything and he got madder and madder to finish up the signal officer said, “Signalman, get  back to the Bridge and stop answering the Captain back.” Which was the best thing that ever happened. 

There was only one officer on board that got on with him and that was old Bruce, the Engineer Officer, all  the younger ones, he used to give the sub-lieutenants, he gave them hell. The next time I was on watch  up on the Bridge, up come this young sub-lieutenant Fowles (?) stepped up on the Bridge and he  shaped up to me and he danced all round, and I said, “What’s goin’ on?” 

He said, “You took a swing at the Old Man didn’t you?” 

I said, “No I didn’t, I didn’t want to spend the rest of my time in the cells.” 

“Look,” he said, “wouldn’t have gone past the First Lieutenant. All you would have had to say was ‘I was  talkin’ to the Captain, the ship rolled, you put out your hand to save yourself and landed in his face’, he  said.” “That was brilliant,” he said. That’s what he thought of it! (Laughs) 

No, he made life unpleasant for just about the whole crew. Then he would have left them for a different  ship. 

You’d wonder why he was like that wouldn’t you? 

DB: Yeah, well I, when, when I first joined her in Sydney and we were going north, we called in to  Townsville and the Officers got doctors down on board to try and get him to go. Yes, they knew what he  was like but he wouldn’t go. 

Perhaps he had a mental problem. 

DB: Yeah, I don’t know what it was. Another one, on the Broome, the Southern Cross, this Frank  Galbally, he become big time law bloke in Sydney, in Melbourne, he was our Supply Assistant, he was  studying Law at the time. One day he was down the hold doing something and this Lieutenant Rhodes,  oh he wasn’t much chop either. He’s got up at the hold, “Galbally!” Frank just ignored him. “Galbally!  Galbally, you can hear me!” 

“Yes sir, I can hear ya,” he said, “I don’t call you Fowles and I’m either Supply Assistant Galbally or Mr Galbally.” He called him Mr Galbally from there on. (Laughs).  

You can see why he was successful in Law. 

DB: And eventually we had, there was a cabin up on deck. She was a Mission vessel before the War,  with the two bunks in it. 

Right. 

DB: He got me to move in with him because the Cook we had, oh he was a dirty sod, and he was sharin’  a cabin with him. He said, “One day,” he said, “I grabbed his shorts and I threw ‘em overboard and I  ordered him out of it so would you like to come up with me?”  So I did! (Laughs)  Oh we had some funny ones.

Thank you very much, those last little episodes were interesting. 

DB: Oh, a couple of things you might get something out of. Yeah.