Out to Australia

The family set out for Australia on the S.S. Oronsay arriving in February 1927 with me just two years old and my sister Ann three months old. After the losses on the hotel at Surbiton and two other earlier failed ventures, they were refused any more money from my mother’s family, who did not approve of my father’s working class background. So Australia was in many ways the last resort! It was also the beginning of the Great Depression. The Group Settlement Scheme promised English families around 160 acres of land, which the new settlers were to own by clearing it and turning it into viable farms. They were placed in groups of twelve families to help and support each other. In retrospect, the scheme had many flaws. 

These people had never been on a farm before and had no experience in clearing, growing crops or looking after animals. My father knew something about handling ropes and pulleys used for tree clearing from his days“under sail” but the only power available were two draught horses. My mother did know a little about animals from her medical background and proved to be a very good gardener, as well as being capable and resourceful generally.

Within a few days of arriving in Australia my family took us to the zoo in South Perth for an outing. On the way out I must have followed some people on to the local tram and did not get off until it reached the terminus. Even at two years old I could not talk so the tram crew did not know what to do. My mother rang all the hospitals with no result and eventually found I had been sent to a child welfare centre where they picked me up.

My parents were promised land in the South West of Western Australia under the Group Settlement Scheme. They were never going to own much land in the U.K. so it was a great opportunity for them.

Group Settlement

Eventually my parents were placed on an abandoned farm at Lot 1688 Miamup Road which at least already had a house on it and a few acres cleared. It was situated only 2kms west of the small village of Cowaramup on a gravel road. This is where my sister and I grew up until February 1935 when we left this area and the farm. My sister was 8 and I was 10 by that time. The house was called Umtali a South African name for a ship. These are the great years in a child’s life and much of it is still fresh in the minds of my sister and me.

After a couple of years Dad had cleared enough of their land to plant some crops. These crops were mostly destined to become hay to feed our cattle and horses in the dry summer months. Our income was to be mostly by selling cream from the cows milk for making butter. Therefore we had to milk as many cows as we could handle and separate the milk into cream and skim milk. The cream was sent off by train to the butter factory in Capel twice a week, and the skim milk fed to the pigs which were another useful source of income. Male cattle and most of the pigs were sold to the butcher for meat.

We also ran a lot of chickens and sold both chicken and eggs. Sometimes we hatched our own chicks, other times we bought them in. They had to be locked up at night because of foxes. As a child I delighted in having young animals to look after. It was our job to feed the pigs and chicken as well as help milking the cows twice a day as we got older.

We had every kind of fruit tree that was suitable for the area. Oranges, lemons, plums, nectarines, almonds, grapes, blackberries, apples, pears. Our means of transport was a light two wheeled sulky in to town and a heavy dray around the farm. We also had a big horse drawn trailer with high sides on it for bringing in the hay, carting fertiliser, fence posts, wire etc.

In those days, my mother had a lot of Irish superstitions such as Friday being unlucky as well as the number 13. If you saw a new moon through glass that was very bad for the next month. It was a good idea to turn a silver coin (mostly a threepennypiece) in your hand and make a wish to compensate. Breaking a mirror was very bad news. Seeing a robin redbreast meant a letter was coming. There was to be no wattle or lilies in the house nor shoes on the table!

Was it bad luck that we were placed in Group Thirteen, nicknamed The Devil's Own?

John, Ellie and Claire at the monument to Group 13