I was born on the 25th of November, 1941 to William Arthur Alfred Nye and Alice Maude Adamson.  It was not an easy birth, mother and son pulled through ok. The birthing took place at Gowan Brae Private Hospital in Sandon Street, Hamilton, directly opposite the Hamilton Bowling Club. My maternal grandmother was Matilda Adamson and my grandfather was Robert Adamson.  My mother had two brothers, Kenneth Adamson and Nesbit Adamson. Nesbit was married to Aunty Essie and they had one daughter, Helen Kay Adamson.  Kenny married Sylvia who had one daughter by another marriage.  This girl was Judith Mason. 

My early education commenced at the Wickham Free Kindergarten in 1943. One of the earliest songs I learnt was ‘The Elephant Swings His Trunk from side to side as he takes the children for a ride’.  In later years, I would sing this song entertaining my kids. One of the early attendees of this marvellous little facility, I commenced my love of books.  With teachers regularly reading to the children. My memories of attending the kindergarten were of commencing the day by lining up at the front of Miss Carr. She gave us a daily dose of castor oil – administered for obvious reasons.  This was not something to look forward to.  Other memories include the lunches. The mother’s group would volunteer to serve the kids.  These included pumpkin, blancmange and after our afternoon sleep rusks and a glass of milk.   I remember at one time, I rebelled against my afternoon sleep by refusing to come out from underneath the slippery dip to partake in this afternoon ritual.  Miss Harker, being a no-nonsense person and woman of authority in our eyes, simply picked up the slippery dip and broke the rebellion.  Obviously, a woman not to be messed with.   I made some early friends at the kindergarten, including Alan Russell, Denise Kibble, Loretta Kibble, Neil Kibble, Ron Parrot, Ron Phillips and Wyn Emmett Renshaw.

In later years on attending the Anniversary of the little school, we happened to meet Wyn Emmett Renshaw and his sister when we were passing his house in Albert Street on our way to the kindergarten.

Then came my introduction to ‘Big school’ where my first teacher was Mrs. Fowler – the kindergarten teacher. Then came Mrs. Miller (nee Miss Smithers) the Headmistress who also taught 1^st class. My 2^nd class teacher was the wonderful Mrs MacDonald whose two grown-up children, in my eyes anyway, often called into Wickham to see their mother.  Mrs MacDonald looked on me as somewhat of a favourite. In 3^rd class I had Miss Cunningham, who threw Alan Russell and I out of her class for being disruptive in her description and likening death to the banana express. We thought this was a real hoot. This was obviously not an Ethics class. Miss Cunningham, by the way was an excellent teacher.  We moved on to 4^th class where I met up with fearsome Miss Kaylock, who wore half-moon glasses and would brook no interference to her teaching.  We had a big block in the class by the name of Cecil Gayle, who was giving her a hard time one day – remember this was Wickham, “with waterfront views”.   She simple picked him up by his ankles and bounced him up and down a couple of times.  I remember one day ‘cracking her up’ with a joke that I repeated about a man with a hair lip wanting to buy a bra for his wife and trying to describe it to the shop girl.  Miss Kaylock was also the school music teacher and she would be regularly tune into the ABC music programme for schools.  Then came 5^th class where my teacher was Bill Finlay. He was ex-RAN.  Bill was a good bloke, who often referred to his pupils as “Mongolian Mongrels.”  Bill hit it off with my Dad because of their common RAN background.  Finally, in the list of hands on teachers came Mrs. Cooper, with the blue rinse hair.  Mrs. Cooper was a great teacher who made a great effort to get my lazy brain working with lots of mental arithmetic.  A couple of things happened in my early learning experience, one being a question on what time of the year did Elizabeth and Robert Brownings’ poem ‘Home, Thoughts from Abroad” took place.  She put this question to the class and the whole class, but one, put up their hands and said “Autumn”.  The one who didn’t support this popular view of the seasons reckoned to be Spring, the opposite what occurs in the Northern Hemisphere at this time.  I must admit, the peer pressure would always have you run with the mob.    The second instance was something disappointing to me in that I felt cheated by a peculiar event. To go back to that particular day and that particular class.  The half-yearly exams were held and I finished with exactly the same mark as the boy sitting next me. This is really unfortunate because that boy was John Fordham, the brains of the school. This who could be visualised as an achievement on my part, but it was looked on as cheating. I swear to this day, no such thing occurred. 

During this period, I think it was 1952, my mother and father were divorced. It was a pretty nasty procedure with myself being subjected to rubbish that no child should have to face. This whole thing scarred me for many years, whereby I grew up considering myself as pretty much a burden. Also, in the year of 1953, Northern Suburbs RLFC won the Newcastle Rugby League Premiership and this year was the last year Brian Carlson, the best footballer I’ve ever seen, played for Norths before leaving the club at the end of that season.  Jimmy Price, the most envied kid on the block was the ball boy for Norths. I will always remember him swapping the game ball of that match with a jersey of Ernie Ashcroft, the Pommy Vice Captain. There was a returned match with Newcastle again and this time, Jimmy scored the boots of a Pommy player in exchange for the ball.

This brings us to 1954 where I attended Newcastle Technical High School, a selective school. I have memories of some fine teachers such as Mr Stan -the Metal Work Teacher, Mr Pink – the French Teacher, John Bloomfield – the Australian Surf Life Champion, was our PE teacher, to recall some.  The Headmaster at Tech High during my term there was Mr Donald Short.  Also, winning a place at Tech High was another boy, Tony Wakeman, whose brother Geoff had also attended Tech High. 

Some other boys I met at this school were Kevin Oliveria, Don Mc Neil and Davey Brown, the latter going on to win three successful seasons with St. George.  Academically, I held my own, but to my mind now there were wasted opportunities. 

In the French class of 1954, I was dux of the year. There was a failure on my part in that I would rather be the clown, seeking recognition than the scholar. This was pretty much the trend for the remainder of my schooling.  

The year 1954 saw me start my apprenticeship as an electrician at BHP in Newcastle, NSW.  The choice of trade was made by careful examinations of my options.  This included talking to Kevin Oliveria about our options for a trade.  After telling me he was going to take up an electrical apprenticeship, I thought I would do the same, but at a different employer – BHP.  I thought that going to tech college with someone I was familiar with would be a hoot. I worked arduously at my studies but again I played the clown. This on reflection was, in effect, doing me no favours.  

On the formal studies side, my efforts in attending tech college were complimentary.  At BHP, I rotated in a number of departments including constructions where I was assigned to Jim Mathews as my tradesman, Reggie Bennett, in shipping, Jock Alexander, at Tungsten Carbide.  Then at BHP main office, where it was a pleasure to watch the young ladies meet for lunch.  These are some of my early recollections of my work days.  Going back to choices for a job was defined and refined by my father’s advice, “I don’t care what job you take on as long as it is a trade.”  This was sound advice.  During this period, I started playing rugby league with Northern Suburbs Rugby League Football Club in the under sixteen grade.  The following year I moved up to the under 18s where the team won the minor and major premiership, going through undefeated until the last game of the competition rounds. In 1959 I really hit my straps with a successful year when we were beaten by Central Newcastle. I was picked in Newcastle’s under 18 rep side to play Colefields. The Newcastle side included such notable players as Les Johns and Gary Banks. The Colefields side included Jim Morgan who later went on to play for South Sydney and John Sattler. Overall there were nine boys that went on to play for Australia from the teams that played that day.  The following year I was selected in the Newcastle under 20 rep side, which included players such as Brian Warby, Mo Wilson, Kevin Oliveria, Mick Carlin, Warren Ryan and George Brown (Dave Brown’s twin brother).  David, at this time, was firmly established as a centre in the St. George First Grade side.  We won this game 14-13. Not a bad effort. 

Other notable events to occur during this period was in 1952, Princess Elizabeth was Coronated and became Queen Elizabeth 2^nd and then in 1954 she visited Newcastle where, as a schoolboy, I attended her drive-through at Newcastle Showground.  Little did I realise at the time, I would in 1974 be invited to meet the Queen at a private function at the Bird of Paradise Motel in Goroka, PNG.  Also, in the entourage was Prince Phillip, Lord Louis Mount Batten, Mark Phillips and a couple of courtiers. Barry Holloway was then the Speaker of the house. In this period, Marshall Tito of Yugoslavia died and Giorgi Malenkov became President of Russia.  John Laws was the popular DJ of radio 2NX. 

In 1960 I was a member of Nobbies Surf Club boat crew. That year we finished 2^nd in the junior Boat Titles in the first surf carnival to be televised. The events were held at Dixon Park Beach. The seas were incredibly dangerous on the Saturday for the interstate championships and all junior events were cancelled on that day.  A number of surf boats were smashed to pieces in the carnival.  Also, I remember seeing the board rider who qualified as the winner by just having enough surfboard (longboard) to make him a winner of this event.  On the following day, the Junior Events for the Australian Championship were held with Nobbies finishing second – a Somewhat disappointing end to a tough season. This was felt by all the crew which included: Don Lloyd, Sweep – Allan Russell, Colin Richards, Bow – Winston Loades and myself.  During the heats we had drawn the worst draw on the beach in our heats and still won through to the finals but, at the time of the final, conditions changed and we were left at the start.  There were some compensations in that the following week at the Northern Districts titles, we crushed Caves Beach who won the Australian Title the week before.

Toward the end of the rugby league season, prior to the under 20 rep side being named, Barbara, came home from work at WC Douglas and jokingly said to me, “I suppose you think you’re smart?” alluding to my selection in the Newcastle under 20 rep side.  I couldn’t believe my luck in gaining such an honour, considering my peer group of Bruce Lovett and Ian Sillsall who such strong contenders for a spot.  Keith Grant also beat Alan Buman for the hooker position.  Buman later played for Australia.  Also, I was approached by Newtown, who incidentally were my favourite Sydney team, with an invitation to trial with them for the 1961 season.  It was all happening and I couldn’t believe it was all for me. I eventually declined the move to Sydney as I was recently married and chose to do further studies in a radio and television course at Newcastle Technical College.  I might add that John Oakley who replaced me on Newtown’s list for that season won the Merton Shoes award for the best and fairest player. He won the around the world trip.  My head got in the way of any success in 1961.  With Barbara encouraging me to reach for goals that were, at that stage, made impossible by my immaturity. 

 At this stage, I’d like to go back to the 1959 season whereby I began to show the benefits of hard training with lots of skills practice that were taught to me by ‘Fred’.  One particular instance stands out in my mind at this time. This was training with Tony Paskins at Wickham Oval (which later became Passmore Oval).  At that stage Tony Paskins had not long returned from England, Workington Town where he had a couple of seasons together with John “Rupert” Mudge at Worthington Town RLFC.  Paskins, not long back in Australia, had signed on for the 1961 season at Oberon. He was working at that time as rep with Rothmans. Paskins was an extremely talented Rugby League football player. He had been recruited with Mudge from Randwick Rugby Union FC and was an idol of mine.  Paskins played for Country for that year and together with Phil Jackson, masterminded Country’s defeats of City for the following 3 years.  This time saw the rise and rise of Graham and Les Johns.  Some thoughts on Les Johns.  I first played against Les at a high school level. He played for Marist Brothers and I, for Tech High.  I remember overhearing a discussion between Ted Sharp, a former central Newcastle player who was coaching the side at the time referring to the meeting between Johns and John McNeil.  Sharp commented that they would have to move Johns out of five-eight as McNeil was proving too strong for Les.  John McNeill, whose father, Sandy McNeill, was a school teacher at Wickham Primary and I think taught Norma when she attended that school.  A couple of thoughts on Les Johns. In the 1959 season, I played two under 18 rep games and scored 3 tries. One of these stands out to this day.  As was the style of rugby league in those days, there was a reasonable amount of kicking between fullbacks, seeking to gain field position for the team and Les Johns could really kick a ball.  He had many and varied skills as a rugby league player.  In this particular instance in the rep game against Coalfields, Les was engaged in a kicking dual (the old-world order as was said previously a kicking dual was an attacking option in the old game.  The ball was going backwards and forwards over the halfway line during this time. I was dropping back to supply support for Les. When I thought there’d been enough kicking, I remember saying to Les, come on let’s go.  He took the ball inside our twenty-five-metre line and took off with me in support.  Passing the ball to each other, we took the play into the Coalfields territory.  When I thought the moment had arrived, I again took the ball fifteen metres from the Coalfields line.  I thought to myself, thanks Les, you missed the opportunity because he did try to throw a dummy which delayed his pass time which at that time I felt was a missed opportunity. As I took the ball, the Coalfields defence closed on me and I remember thinking I should go down and play the ball quickly. Something else in my head clicked and my legs kept on taking me towards the trial line.  I felt myself getting close to the try line and under the weight of the opposing players, I crossed the trial line for my second try that day.  I remember being congratulated by Mick Kruck, with him saying, “You are really making a habit of this,” as it was my third try in two games.  That try will long be remembered as one of the great tries of district park.  In those days rugby league was a big deal on Sunday afternoons as it was the feature event for junior rugby league in Newcastle. In that game against Coalfields my second try that day gave Newcastle an 18 points to 10 victory. 

On another occasion, in that year of 1959, I remember being involved in a great, typical heroic win by the Northern Suburbs under 18 side. We played South Newcastle at District Park in a team that was doing It tough for a regular side of that type.  Before the game, we took over the ‘ship’ and did our own coaching. This involved a total commitment to defence.  Each player in the side realised this game was all at about tackling, a commitment and belting South at every opportunity. I remember during the game turning around and being belted with a king hit from John Flaherty.  My first thoughts were ‘God, the referee is going to send me off because I’ve earned a few cautions.’ Colin Richards said to me after the game, “Boy, you took it like a man.” To be honest, when John Flaherty hit me so hard, I didn’t feel a thing.  He actually numbed me.  I left the field because I was bleeding a fair bit.  I remember Charlie Smith who was coaching under 20 at the time saying, “Doug you have two options. One, you don’t go back on and two, you go back on and take him out and either get sent off or leave the field.” Fortunately, dad was at the game and he took me to Newcastle hospital where they stitched me up. This game, to my mind, as I said before is a tribute to 13 boys one Sunday afternoon. Northern Suburbs were courageous. Barry  Reed ‘Doughie’, paid me the ultimate compliment when he said, “Doug, it was your win.”  

During the summer I played cricket with the Wickham Club. I was a pretty average second-grade player considering I should have played for Australia because I practised assiduously. The problem was I couldn’t bat, couldn’t bowl and was a bit shaky when fielding. The first wicket I took in District cricket was that of Les Johns (there’s that name again) at Islington Oval where I bowled Les with a leg cutter that went right through him.  In this time I saw great players in Australia – namely Billy Watson, the prettiest of Batemans. A lovely left-handed wristy opening batsman. He played with the St. George Club, New South Wales and Australia.  He was the hardest hitter. Then there was Ted Dexter, the English Captain on the touring 1962 side. On an afternoon in 1962, I watched him ‘paste’ Johnny Martin to all parts of the field and early fielding became a safety hazard. The most beautiful action of any bowler that I saw was by that of Ray Lindwall.  Such a lovely, smooth flowing run-up you would ever want to see. Then for sheer power, there was Gordon Rorke from the Mosman Club. I think, Rorke reminded me of a mighty Garth from the comic strip. Other Wickham players at the time were John Thomas, Ron Camps, Eric Baber, Ron and Vince Martin, two young men, both opening batsman, originally from Country NSW. So my summers were always taken up with cricket, surfing, surf boats and in the winter, rugby league. 

In the summer of 1963 my life changed dramatically, setting me on a new course. I completed my apprenticeship on 25^th January 1962 at BHP plant at Newcastle and stayed on at the plant for a further 12 months as an electrical tradesman. During the years was very friendly with one of the finest blokes you would wish to know. That was my cousin Norm Wilkinson who helped me through a very black part of my life following the break-up of my marriage to Barbara. Norm, Brian Devine and Graham Johns were going up to Coolangatta for a holiday and I was asked to go along.  We all got on pretty well and I found that break refreshing.  They were a good bunch of blokes.  At the end of the sojourn, Norm suggested to me that we go down to the Snowy Mountains and look for a job.  I found this suggestion to be highly adventurous and accepted his invitation without hesitation. I had previously applied for the position of electrician with the Snowy Hydro Electrical Authority but the paperwork for some reason did not go through.  So, let’s try again. 

Norm and I, in his Volkswagen, travelled to Cooma. I got a job, Norm didn’t. As there was no position available on the Snowy Hydro Electric at the time but there was a position open for a truck driver which Norm applied for but failed because of the “double shuffle” required in the gearbox. I remember watching Norm drive away and feeling ever so lonely at the time. It was January 1963, even though the date might say its summer, but by God it was a cold night.  On to the next day, my first working day with Smec and after the safety course, I had travelled to Jindabyne with my brief to refurb the camp electrically. This was to be the start of a dammed good life. I settled into my new digs which was one of the huts that had been refurbed for my arrival. I joined with four other blokes who had already done so. The work was simple but suited me fine. My enthusiasm for the work was quickly rewarded by promotion to Leading Hand. The chain of command at that time was Bill Young, the top of the woser, Walter Kellner, his foreman and Deiter Hoffner. John Reshevski, a Latvian fellow, Mick, a Yugoslav, Joseph, a German fellow, Steve Sadahey. Not long after woods our small band was joined by Peter Finn who had served his apprenticeship with BHP. Peter was a good block and a fine tradesman (his father John, during the war years, worked with Essington Lewis from BHP), who had been appointed by the Australian Government to oversee the armament of Australia. During that time little was known about Joe Finn but in his early years, he was born in England and severed his apprenticeship as a carpenter. While serving his “time” he won the apprenticeship of the year award. Joe was a highly adaptable young man who ended up in metallurgy.  Little is known about this that John Finn came up with a method of inventing boring of gun-barrels from both ends.  In fact, this allowed Lithgow Arms Factory to turn out guns twice as fast as Hilter. This was recently confirmed by a gentlemen Anne and I meet at Lake Lyell out near Wallerawang.  Enough on John Finn. 

The Jindabyne camp at that time was being readied for accommodation for an influx of workers who would participate in the building of the Jindabyne Dam. One evening I received a visit from two blokes who had heard that I played rugby league in Newcastle. They invited me down for training and was suitable impressed. I received a clearance and signed with Jindabyne. This resulted in me becoming an honorary member of the little township where the families that lived there dated back inthe 1800’s.  So it took a while for them to fully accept you as a fully-fledged citizen. I tore ligaments in my knee in a trial game at Eden on the coast.  Lorna and Bruce, at that time, where managing the Eden’s Fishermen’s Club. Lorna later split from Bruce and went to live in Ashfield, Sydney. I was out of the game for six weeks or so and under the guidance of Tom Duffy, who was, at that time coach of Jindabyne, I worked my way back. Up to that point, Jindabyne hadn’t won a game but there I say, after my return, they never lost a game, i.e. the final. Tom Duffy was one of nature’s gentlemen, a bush philosopher. Tom was critical of no man, looked after his family and others he met along the way, his door was always open to everyone.  He cooked the best bacon and egg breakfast, and he didn’t trust anyone with the washing up.  His working life started at a young age where he boxed at different shows to make a living. Tough as teak and not of great size, he held his own, both in rugby league and rugby union (Randwick RugbyClub). Tom was chosen by Cec Fifield, a talent scout for Rockdale Hornets, where he played with and against many of the great players who went to England because of the money offered at the time. Later, a group of men termed“other nationalities” had a reunion dinner at the Coogee Bay Hotel. The gathering was originally set down for the Gold Coast, but John “Rupert Mudgee” was ill with cancer and the group decided to hold the reunion at the Coogee Bay Hotel Sydney.  It was indeed an honour to be asked by Tom to accompany him to this function.

Names I have grown up with were all present. John Mudgee, Tony Paskins, Rex Mossip, Trevor Allan, Cec Mountford and others whose names I can't recall. This group of men played in England in the 40s and 50s for the team known as “other nationalities”. This team played England in the series of what could be termed as “test matches”because it was often said that they were stronger than the Kangaroos that toured England. It was a wonderful evening and all unanimous that the best player that they had ever seen or played was Brian Bevan who played most of his career with Warrington. This was an undoubted tribute to a player who obviously looked nothing like a rugby league player. He would go on the field with plaster and bandages from head to foot, but the man was a try-scoring machine. Australians never saw the best of Brian Bevan, except a brief sighting on or about 1960?  As a matter of fact, a little story aside to that was that John (Straw) Anderson played centre to Bevan in a testimonial match for him.  Straw said to me that he was instructed to let Bevan have the ball at every opportunity because that was who the people had come to see. As Straw said to me later that he did not pass to Bevan as much as the East officials would have liked because he did not want the ball. He was out for the holiday and that was it.

That was typical of English Centres leading up to the fifties where the centres did not leave the way clear for them to run down the touchline and score tries, they did not want the ball or they would step out of field.  But still, in all, these legends of the game present on that memorable evening were unanimous in calling him the greatest rugby league player they had experienced. In 1975, another great occasion occurred where I was seated at the same table and next to the mighty Gus Rasman.  Gus was a big man and a great full back and splendid, informative and a lunch companion. His son Bev played with British Lions. In these last sentences I have jumped ahead to the mid-70s, but first I better go back against some chronological order.  So, let me return to my time after the Snowy I did relate previously about going to the Snowy with Norm Wilkinson and me getting the job as a “sparky” and Norm, my travelling companion at the time, missing out. I think I’ve already gone over old time here.  Just to get things moving again, I was transferred to Jindabyne camp from Cooma, whereby I come to play rugby league with Jindabyne after Clyde Watt and John Connors came up to the camp one evening and recruited me for Jindabyne.

Early in the season, I had torn my medial ligament in a trial game against Eden. At this time, Lorna, my sister and Bruce McKeon were managing the Fisherman’s Club at Eden.  I think I have mentioned this before. There was a big bloke playing for Eden, Keith Hubbard, who was a huge man and like Arthur Costello, our winger, could run like tin hair dog.  As I mentioned previously, I tore my ligament in the following trial against Adaminaby. This was extremely painful.  As I related previously, Jindabyne hadn’t won a game up till that point.  My first game back, encouraged by Tom Duffy, I returned after six weeks in the game against Delegate.  In this game Tom looked after me and, as a result, restored my confidence.  The leaders of the competition at that time was a very, very good team from Island Bend.  A team of hard men with players such as Freddie Rickson, Brian Schultz and others.  At half time the game appeared to be slipping from our grasp and I clearly remember passing Joan Duffy on the sideline saying to Tom with urgency, “Tom you have got to do something”. Tom did. I returned to the field after halftime, immediately put a high ball into the air perfectly placed with John Loderto score a try.  Tom did that twice more with Loder again the recipient of the high ball.  By the way “John Loder” was NSW beach sprint champion. That was 1963. 

As it turned out an eventful year and one that would have a big impact on my life. At the very end of 1963 I was working with Utah construction on the Island Bend tunnel.  My job was standby maintenance doing shift work, i.e. afternoon and day work.  Work was to finish on the 23rd December, 1963, for the Christmas break. The car was packed ready for a quick get away to Newcastle.  My Uncle Ken Adamson, mum’s brother was to accompany me back to Newcastle.  About10.30 of the morning of the 23^rd, I was called down the shaft to repair an electrical fault when all hell broke loose, killing 5 men down below in grisly circumstances. At this point, I will leave it to the ABC and Siobhan McHugh to relate the events of the day. 

Back to 1960, Australian Surf Titles at Dickson, on the Saturday, the Interstate Titles were held, but all junior events were cancelled because of the hug and dangerous surf that was running on that day. It was truly fearsome. All the junior events were cancelled. Come the Sunday, the titles were held with Nobby’s SLSC being one of the favourites for the junior titles. 

I spent the summer of 1964 on Nobby’s Beach.  Poor but having fun.  Oh, what a summer it was.  Come March I tried to resume my fitness and movement for Rugby League with Central Newcastle.  This proved to me to be a pipe dream because my body was not functioning well enough for a season of rugby league, so I packed the FB Holden, white with lime green flashes down either side and plenty of chrome for the trip to Cairns.  While in Cairns I joined MacMane Industries team working on the new sugar terminal atSmith Creek.  The wiring for this job was completely in pyrotenics.  The team was headed by Laurie Annetts.  I made a friend of Tony Packham, wild but a good bloke. When the job was finished I would often call out to Tony’s place in Hughes St. Ashfield and stop the night. As a matter of fact, he came to my wedding to Rita.  At the completion of the job in Cairns, I realised how close I was to PNG. So, I thought, what the hell, I will go over and have a look around.  Which I did.

Starting in Port Moresby, I went to Lae, Wau, Kainantu, then Goroko, Kundiawa, Manz, Banz, both these last two towns are in the Waghi Valley and then onto Mount Hagen.  Little did I realise that these places would become more familiar for a period of 10 years of residency in PNG.  On that initial trip, I meet Bill Morrow, Colin Sharp, Jack Turner, at the Goroka Sports. Jack Turner was the Turner in Turner and Davey Electrical.  Jack Turner wanted me to stay on with his company.  As did the people at the PNGElectricity Commission.  They even offered to supply me with tools until I could get mine over.  After a month I returned to Australia.  At this time, I was training with Central Newcastle.  At training Des Edser said there was a nurse’s party on over at Waratah, come along.  I was reluctant to go, but I went.  That’s where I meet Rita Mary Black.  As it turned out Rita was black and her father being the great John Black, soldier, statesman and explorer of Papua NewGuinea and Brunie fame.  Brunie is a Moslem country on the island Borneo. At that time Brunie was part of Sarawak and ruled by the Sultan of Brunie.  We dated for a period of about a year and then got engaged.  And in 1966 we married.  After a respectable period, David John Nye was born. 

I was not there for this happy occasion but drifting off Ocean Island. I returned to Newcastle not mentioning to anybody that I was coming home.  I travelled from Geelong to Newcastle where I made my way to the church for Lesley’s……wedding.  I remember the day I was wearing my new hacking jacket, brown trousers and Hardy hat and thought I look rather smart.  Rita was bridesmaid to Lesley, Rita was part of the wedding group and therefore marched out of the church with that group.  I was standing in the crowd still unannounced, anticipating the great moment when people would go “aw” here’s Doug.  Nobody bloody recognised me. I had to swallow my pride and introduce myself to some bloody homecoming.  On our honeymoon we travelled to Adelaide, my intention being to meet her father John Black. We stayed in the Adelaide Hills at the Tollgate Motel.  Arrangements were made to meet up the following morning but alas John Black got cold feet and called off the meeting, but to his credit rang back sometime later to re-establish that meeting.  I went from elation to dissolution to elation all in a matter of an hour.  From the motel to the restaurant, Rita travelled with John and I with Dawn. In that short time, I liked Dawn. So, the object of the exercise was to get Rita and her father, John Black to finally meet and so it was.  As it turned out much more. 

As future years would reveal this is yet to come.  Following our marriage, Ma Adamson passed away and Maudie offered us her house. As a quick aside but still a creepy memory.  We both awoke one night to the sound of the chairs being moved in the kitchen. This was not a drill, this was a real thing, not by sight but by sound.  We both heard the scraping of the chairs on the lino as they were moved about the kitchen. On further checking this out, there was nothing untoward.  But still we both heard this phenonium. Also, living in the house at the same time was mon’s brother Kenny.  Ken had finished his “work” with me as a painter down at Island Bend and was back working as a painter and docker in Newcastle.  This was not an ideal situation at the time.  Unfortunately, Kenny was an alcoholic.  He was always polite but erratic, as alcohol would dictate (see photo in album).  Because of the sale of Ma’s place was imminent we readied for a change of house which took us to Nowra Court, Denison St. Hamilton.  At this time, I changed my employer to James Watt in Newcastle.  One day I received a phone call from a Norwegian Vice Consulate in Newcastle asking me to join M.V. Nadar which at the time was drifting off Fremantle. My passport was in order, so away I went.

A rushed goodbye to my family and off to Fremantle to board Nadar.  This was the icing on the cake, whereby it follows a previous offer to join a brand-new ship managed by the Botany BaySteam Co. and at the time in Sydney. This was that ships maiden voyage and something or other had caused a vacancy for an electrical engineer.  The recruitment was being carried by Captain Wood of the Botany Bay SteamshipCo.  I had to inform them, much to my regret, that I was getting married in six weeks and had to decline the offer.  At this time, I was working at the Newcastle State Dockyard.  I was working on a floating oil ridge, Ode Zapata. I waited so long for this opportunity buy had to decline and when this further opportunity arose I reasoned that the extra money that I would make on MV Nida would more than contribute to a healthy bank account.  Even though I was on pretty good money in Newcastle, this was more than the money situation and therefore could not be equated such.  This was a life long dream and was a good bit to my family background. This would be another Nye goes to sea. Rita had bought Tina; our GoldenCocker Spaniel and I bought her sister Anna down to stay with her. I reasoned this would be good company.  All this came to be as detailed with the prodigal son’s return.  I joined the ship which was then as previously mentioned drifting off Fremantle at about 2400 hours on the same day (the time change by 3 hrs). 

I went over my duties the following morning with the chief engineer and realised I was amongst people who didn’t know a bloody thing about electricity.  As a matter of fact, the previous replacement electrician, (there had been two leaderships prior to me arriving), did not feel comfortable with dc (direct current) with a dc ship.  Armed within the formation,  Nadar and I were a perfect fit as I had spent my apprenticeship and other early years on dc. I took great pride in my work by getting the Nadar into ship-shape electrical condition and having the freedom to do so.  One evening I recall going topside after chow and about 5 o’clock in the evening, off the Western Australian Coast Line, at the time I was reading Taipan, a wonderful historical novel on China, when the deck chair I was sitting on collapsed and cutting off the top of my finger, causing me to be repatriated back to Australia. This was indeed a painful blow under any circumstances. 

I returned to Newcastle as previously detailed to sit out my recovery.  During that time, I watched the world expo in 1968, where the Beatles performed “All you need is love” and the Six-Day War Yom Kippur took place. This was the first use of tv in that theatre.  About six weeks later I was again recalled back to Nidar the ship was unloading in Cairns, the previous electrician, like the bloke before him, couldn’t handle DC. It was an uneventful trip to Newcastle, my only complaint was that of seasickness while passing through the Barrier Reef.  The first bout of seasickness was when we were making ready for sea and drifting off Christmas Island.  Nowhere to go unless you could walk on water.  I left the ship in Geelong, like I said previously, in better shape than when I boarded her and headed home to Newcastle, events following this were previously chronical. 

I responded to an advertisement for an electrical position in PNG (at that time Papua and New Guinea). I flew ahead of Rita and the children believing that Jack Turner would have marriage accommodation in place. This was to be so and one of the reasons for my fallout would Jack Turner. There were other things, but lets stay with the facts. I resigned from Turner and Davy not too long after my arrival. One day, three or four of the local people came to see me about playing football with the Brother’s club. 

A similar situation for what occurred to be in Jindabyne. Brother’s club, at that time was more than a Rugby League Club. It was a hot bed of political intrigue. The movement grew out of the teachers college in Goroka finally to become a political party first known as the Brother’s Four. This was set up to give a voice to the Highlands students who thought they were being disadvantaged as compared to the coastal students who had more exposure to learning than those of the Highlands. The principals of that group were Anton Parou, Siri Saga and others of the Conservative political persuasion. I believe they were financed by the Planters, but for the time being we will stay with the sporting prowess of the people. I went down, as I said I would, to check them out and I couldn’t believe what I saw. The potential was tremendous, so I quickly took up the invitation to be their coach and eventually ended up winning five premierships, the San Miguel Trophy, the Cambridge Cup as well as the The “Kumuls” in addition Uve Subaumei was appointed coach.

My boys made quite a mark and were ever so proud and telling me about the achievements in a later to New Guinea. I always believed this group of young me could handle themselves at any level in rugby league. Some local footballers stand out were Himony Lapaiso, Uve Sabaumei, the incredible Malcolm Culligan and his equally large brother, but a more gentle nature was Paddy Fegan, these final two were just all-round athletes, fearsome opponents and great to build a scrum around. There was also John Wiake, locking the scrum. This gave us always a tremendous advantage inside and ability upfront and at this point, I must single out two rascals who were my favourites, Paul Kombinari and Martin Landu, both boys being out of Faniufa Sacred Heart School.

At that time one of the teachers was formidable Sister Mary Paul of the Mercy Nuns. This area of Faniufa became known some years later as a killing ground where Luke Rovan and Peter Mione meet their terrible ending. I will take a break now and relate this at another time (note: assessment of Paul Kombinari and Martin Landu). Luke Rovan who I meet through my friendship with Barry Holloway was the Eastern Highlands, Chief Medical Officer. Luke had studied at 5 universities around the world and a great communicator. Luke and I got on very well from the start. He was particularly interested in David and always bought him a little gift when he called on us. Luke also was appointed (unofficially) to be the Brother’s Football Clubs' patron. Again (not too sure whether he knew this or not).

Rita and I were invited to Christmas in 1973 out at Jim Taylor plantation. Luke was invited also. I was thrilled at this as it would have been the first meeting between Jim and Luke. Christmas morning of that year, I was up at the residence at Morchauser St when Rita came up with the news that Luke and Peter Morne had been murdered at the bottom of the airport not from Faniufa. Rita was crying and I was shocked to pieces. Luke was a very Christian person and a wonderful mentor to myself. A much loved, intelligent and good friend. The inquest to the murder was held at the Goroko Courthouse and eight young men were charged with murder. The ridiculous part was they were charged with murder, resulting in seven men being given a sentence of eight years between. The extremely disappointing aspect of this crime was that these men had previously met Luke at my house following a meeting at my house.

I attended a preliminary hearing at the Goroko Court House and I was shocked that they showed no contrition for this terrible act and the only reason they showed any shame was that I was there. The reason for the killing of both Peter and Luke was nothing, but the actions that preceded the murder were Luke “running over“ a little girl while returning home from a Sing Sing with her mother.

Walking along the road, she pulled away from her mother and ran out unexpectable. Luke, not being a great driver anyway, and obviously didn’t react quickly enough. This was a terrible loss to Papua New Guinea as a merging nation, both young men’s families and everbody else associated with them. This killing was senseless.

Back to the Nida at sea. One evening, following a chow, I went topside to read a little of my current book Taipan by James Clavell, an Australian writing about the history of Hong Kong - a marvelous book. It was a beautiful afternoon coming down the Barrier Reef. A smell that can only be described as sickly sweet came wafting up to where I was sitting on the deck chair (I may have covered this previously, but what the heck). As described, the smell got stronger as we chugged along. It turned out the propeller shaft had broken. The propeller had slipped back and jammed against the rudder. A couple of things resulted from the break, principally, the propeller had slipped back causing the steering to be jammed. Also with the propeller now free it took off at a crazy speed causing the packing in the propeller shaft to overheat and burn. This was the smell that I picked up. We couldn’t go anywhere because no propulsion and certainly no steering with the rudder being jammed to port. The captain, Oscar, obviously got in touch with the maritime authorities in Fremantle. We were carrying 16 passengers, bound for Christmas island. It was the day after our Christmas festivities …………. (approximately). The injuries to the ship was substantially made more so by the fact that we were about to be subjected to the worst hurricane with winds recorded at their highest ever to hit the Cocus Island.

We were drifting out of the north west of Australia and everything seemed so sublime when as possible only the captain would know. This cyclone was about to hit us. I will take a step back Christmas was a merry affair with the Chinese putting on a wonderful spread for Christmas. Everybody got a gift, my was a book by Alistair MacClean “Who dares win”. The passengers enjoyed themselves. That was the last night for a short period 6 days, utter hell, having no weigh and no sewerage, the ship was going nowhere. The winds picked up and as I said before, we were absolutely helpless and at the mercy of the cyclone. We had one real of the films onboard, John Wayne movie, North to Alaska, which we played over and over again. At least it gave the BPC passengers something to get their mind of our troubles. We took a terrific battering for six days and the seas absolutely huge and normally, in these circumstances, we would have steered into the weather and limited the amount of ships to weather, but as I stated we took the big seas directly onto the side of the ship. The cooks couldn’t keep the ovens alight, we had no hot food to speak of, couldn’t sleep because of the movement in the bunk, the people at mid ships, couldn’t move about simply because of this dangerous situation. It was indeed a torrent time. I often wonder these days how similar our predicament was to that of the crew on the Calliope.

Again, let me pause at this instance to talk briefly about my victory to Terry Shelly who recently passed away. I first meet Shelly on the road just outside of Lae. I was hitching a ride back to Goroka for a game of rugby league. It was the final weekend for selections to the Goroka rep side. I saw headlights approaching and flagged the truck down. The driver was one Terry Shelly. He took me through to Goroka and we became friends. From that point, I went on to make the new guinea side with a strong performance against Ribault on the Saturday and western highlands on the Sunday. In the years following, Shelley and I would bump into each other on the odd occasion. Using the word “bump” reminds me of another meeting when we got together in the Kerowagi Sports Club in Chimbu when on this occasion, Shelly the Wild Man was performing. His lovely wife, the former Lyn Kawagi tried to settle him down, but Shel was in full flight, so she remedied the situation quick smart, and in Chimbu fashion, put a stop to the nonsense buy clouting him over the head with a billiard cue. On another occasion, Shelly was defending the coffee shed which housed his coffee. The small group of defenders were valiantly defending the stored coffee that Shelly had bought. The 'rascals' were intent on stealing this hard one shed of coffee. To fortify the security of the coffee shed, which, as I said earlier a corrugated iron building, Big Red William had given Shelly a loan of his white bull terrier. The 'rascals' on the outside where running sticks along the outside of the building creating great noise and stirring up the dog on the inside. Shelley in the course of organising his small band of defenders back up against one of the chicken wire crates, housing the dog, the dog in its excited state, didn’t distinct Shelly from the 'rascals' probably due to the high state of excitement due to the goings-on the outside of the building. So instead of biting a 'rascal', the bloody dog latched onto Shelly’s calf "non-discriminately the bloody animal” and near ripped his calf out. During the siege, one “rascal” climbed through a space in the wall of the coffee. As he was pulling himself hand first, he was speared in the head by one of Shelley’s doubty defenders. I remember one time after a football game in Kundiawa, one of my boys suffered a broken rib. Incidentally, this boy, whose name I can't recall, was an extremely bright fellow and a very powerful second-row forward. He went on to become a chief police commissioner in the PNG Police Force.

On another occasion travelling back from Mount Hargan to Goroka, on a very dark night, made more so by the teaming rain, my windscreen was shattered and my muffler broke. So, in effect, I was trying to travel through this part of the highlands without headlights and a broken muffler and a broken windscreen. After a short time when I stopped there was no help available, everything was black. I looked around a saw a light on the hill ahead, I headed towards this light and it turned out that it was a local kiap manning the small shelter. The was a warm fire inside, to me, this was a blessing as I was soaked and cold. I was welcomed warmly and stayed till the morning. On another occasion great hospitality and friendliness were shown to me by a group of lapuns, men and women, returning home after a day in the gardens. This incident occurred while visiting Mert Derby at a school he had for wayward boys high up in the Ungai. My visit was following an inquiry from Mert Derby who wanted some work done at his school.

While there I could see dark clouds rolling in and thought to myself, I better get out of this quick smart as there was no telling what the rain may bring, because sometimes the coffee roads become impassable. The Lapuns who were returning home after a day’s work in their gardens gave me a ride over a particularly bad piece of mountain road approx.. 2 metres that had slipped down the mountain. I decided to attempt a breakout from this obstacle and continue on to Goroka but the truck got further bogged down with the mud. They came along and willingly pitched in with their shovels and get me through the obstacle and onto more secure road. All that required me to get through was a thank you and a life further down to stable roadway. I will never forget this generosity as it shows with most peoples a simple thank you it better than a materialist reward. These Lapuns were particularly generous and unforgettable and on other occasions my mother came to visit us in Goroka. It was the time of the Goroka show in 1972.

We lived opposite the Goroka Showgrounds. Also at that time, mum had taken David across the road into the showground and Kanae was in Goroka base hospital with a severe case of diarrhea. We nearly lost her. As I said, mum had just taken David across the road to the show. She had just gotten through the entrance when all hell broke loose. What happened was my mate Barry Holloway, who was then speaker of the house of Assembly, had been invited to award the prize to the best Sing Sing group. The highland people have a particular style of dance whereby they shuffle forward, all the time singing in their own tongue with a rush at the end of a dance. With arrows in there bows and spears in their hand, the rush can be a nerving spectacle. What happened on this day was that while this dance was being performed, I was sitting by Kanae at Goroka base hospital. I walked outside on the balcony of the hospital and saw a couple of people running down Morchhauser St. which was the street running out front of the hospital when a half a dozen people came running by, then a few more, and a few more and by this time I sensed that something had gone wrong at the showground.

I quickly got out of the hospital after making sure Kanae was being looked after and headed home. By this time, I had to push my way home through a terrified crowd all seeming to run away from the showground. In the meantime, mum had just gone into the showground with David and was absolutely terrified at what was going on in the showground. What caused this stamped was the failure of the coastal police who were on duty for the event not being culturally aware of the highlands dance. When confronted with the rushing group of highlanders with fully armed for the traditional dance, they panicked. There were spears flying, axes flying, all aimed at no enemy in particular. Their enemy was truly panicked. I will never forget when I got home, parts of the crowd were milling in my front yard, crashing my garden and seeking access which they could see at the back of the property. I can’t forget Rita standing alone in the surging tide trying to hold back this black tide of terrified people.

Another person in my memoirs it would have made his story particularly interesting is Slim Jim Flannery who lived out a hundred miles out of Lae up the Markham Valley almost at the foot of Kassam Pass. Jim had what might be called a petrol station which consisted of one pump up bowser. Jim had one eye a crop of red hair, never any shirt and even in the heat of the Markam always worn a pair of long trousers held up an old belt. I had spoken to Jim briefly on other occasions our conversations were always brief. On this particular occasion, I stopped for petrol as usual and happened to mention, I don’t know how it cropped up it turns out he knew john black and was very much in awe of him. I can’t remember what we talk about on that occasion, but I do remember after that meeting his attitude to me was more congenial. This surprised me a great deal because, in my stupidity and arrogance, I did not appreciate the link and friendship it would have between this very, very common wild-looking man and the polished gentlemen in John Black. But I suspect somewhere in slim jim in John’s Black past, there would indeed be a war bond. Sometime later I mentioned Slim Jim to John and John’s reaction, where’s Jim, but fortunately, time wasn’t with us to organise a meeting, but from John’s reaction, there was a story to tell.

In 1984, John Black returned to PNG and stayed with us in Goroka. It was a time of the Goroka and I have already narrated of the riot that occurred on the Saturday. John was not there at the time, while in Goroka he met all the kiaps. one of those kiaps was Mike Carroll who invited john black down to stay with him. Mike was totally awe of john black as where the other kiaps. John went down to Heganofi to stay with Mike. Whilst there a riot occurred at the Heganofi Tavern with was actually a boi bar. Whilst there a fight broke out and then it completely got out of hand and turned into a real fracas. Then john went down to lend a hand. At this point, Mick Carol and the kiaps were fighting with the mob and in an attempt to get them into a police van and get them into goal. Mick told me this was an amazing sight and when John appeared everything calmed down straight away. Mick was not a religous man, I don’t think so anyway, so it was highly unusual for me to use a biblical quote in this case. Now back in Goroka, I took John for a drink and also to show him what the boi bar was. Whilst there a young man came up and said, you’re Mr. Black, and John looked at him with some suspicion, probably remembering past events and said, yes who are you. The boy said my name is Mr. Black too. This deepened John’s suspicion and asked with some trepidation how did you get that name and the man replied do you remember Heganofi and the big riot they had when you were the kiap down here, you came in and shot some people and put a stop to the situation, in carrying out this action one of your bullets shot my father, fortunately, the bullet only creased his ribs and you could still see the crease mark across his ribs, in doing this, he lifted his father’s shirt and showed John the scar, we realised just how lucky the bloke had been and what long memories kanaka have.

I always enjoyed my trips to Heganofi and having the odd drink both with native and Australians. People who come to mind were Cecil (country), Barry Holloway, Jan Booy, Hue Morgan, Graeme Gillmore who, with his father, built the Kainantu Lodge with river stones, an extremely comfortable lodge for a weekend away from Goroka. Its proximity was only about a kilometer away from the golf course. It had a wonderful bar where I meet with some of the folks mentioned previously. Another story was motivated by taking up a hobby in ducks. In my enthusiasm for duck breeding, I realised that I needed a drake to refresh my stock so in conversation with Kevin Murphy who was then teaching at a Kainantu. Kevin had an excess of drakes in his breeding stock and offered me one of his. At the risk of repeating myself, I will stop there on this narrative. I would like to say fortunately the diversion to Muriel Lanas allowed me to gather a pottery collection that would be worth something now. An interest in ducks was rewarded by my observation that they had a little bit of sense and that they seemed to take interest in what I was saying. In other words, I could have a yawn to them. Though on one occasion I took them for a swim in a big pond over the Goroka showground. I put the ducks into a chicken wire cage and loaded the cage onto the Datsun. I let the ducks loose with the intention of gathering them up later on. But the bloody ducks had a mind of their own and wouldn’t listen to my demands about returning across the road to home. So that was the last of them and I would believe a number of Kanaka would have dinned royally that evening. On another occasion at Goroka showtime, a group of Kanaka had been allocated space for the accommodation right opposite the old house close to the power station. As it turned out this group of Kanaka were of the Kukua Ka Ka people from the Wonenara people. I went out the front one morning during the showtime and was horrified to see that David and Kanae who climbed under the showground wire fence and were throwing stones at the Kukua Kukua people who were laughing their heads off as a lick lick mary and the monkey who were throwing stones. There was no worries about their safety. A good time was being had by all.

The first team I ever coached was the Northern Suburbs, Under 18s side back in 1959. I remember specifically when we went to play South Newcastle on the Sunday at Usery Park which was a feature ground for a side to get. It was like the Sydney Cricket Ground to us. It particularly stays in my mind as a matter of pride because South Newcastle had players that went on to be international names. These players included Les Johns and Gary Banks. At this point, South Newcastle hadn’t been beaten. We went into the game with a scratched side. We moved people around. Half-back went to five-eighth and five-eighth went to centre and the hooker went to half-back. So we completely rearranged the side. But we were convinced we could beat them. It was a pretty brutal game. At eighteen years of age, it was a real trial of endurance to get through. I ended up getting myself punched out of the game. John Flaherty king hit me when I was moving away from him after a tackle which he deemed to be not quite legal.

We’d had a meeting before the game. We got together and said, “We’re all together in this and we’re not supposed to do very well.” The punters had us at long odds. So we took it fully to Souths and we belted ‘em every chance we could get. As anticipated, they wilted. As I said, I got hit during the game and came off. John Flaherty hit me so hard -people said I took it like a man. The truth was it just numbed me – I didn’t feel anything. I remember Charlie Smith telling me that I should go to the hospital so I didn’t develop a bad infection. I took his advice and went up to Newcastle Hospital and they stitched me up. I didn’t see the end of the game but Teddy Hayden, God rest his soul, to square it up for me, took John Flaherty on and hit him. Then Teddy was sent off. This meant we only had eleven men left to play South Newcastle. In the end, Les Johns took a ball and scored a try which made it 4-3. He then went to take the kick and missed the kick in front of the post. We like to think he missed the kick because he was so rattled. We won the game 4-3 with eleven men. I remember Joey Reed said, “Good on ya mate. It was your game.” So that was the first side I coached.

Then we went to Papua New Guinea. Like when I was in Jindabyne, a group of people came around to see me and said, “Francis Wombai who works for Turner and Davey told us you play Rugby League. Can you help us, can you play with us or coach us?” I said, “Yeah.”  At the time, Bobby Hannon who had played with North Sydney was coaching them on and off and so when I went in there I slowly took over for Bob and coached the Brothers side in Goroka. One of the things not known about the Brothers side is how they got the name, Brothers. The name indicates that the players are brothers because they come from provinces in Papua New Guinea: Goroka; Eastern Highlands Province; Simbu; Western Highlands and the Southern Highlands. They started out as a political movement and then they became a sporting club – The Brothers Football Club.

A fella that came out of that scene was Siri Soga. He ended up in Jail for the murder of Priest and academic, Luke Roven.

I had a sensational time coaching Brothers. Our first win was in the Goroka Labor competition. That year I went on to coach Goroka. Rugby League Week came to watch some matches and they said that they’d never seen a team play finer football than they had. They were amazed at the quality of the football and the hits of these big people on each other. They said they made the ground rock. They wrote a wonderful article about it for Rugby League Week.

Then I went on the next year and I was down to coach the Highland side. A mate of mine, Barry Van Heekeren was down to coach them but due to some politics, and despite all of his experience he was overlooked. I felt badly about this and so I protested. I had things to say and I wanted certain players in the side. School teachers who were running things, overruled some of my decisions here and so I resigned from the team.

In my time there we won the Rothman’s Trophy, the Sam Miguel trophy which was put up by Sam Miguel Brewery, the Cambridge Cup which was put up by WD HO Wills. In addition to this we won three or four town championships. So we had quite an exceptional time. And what I look back on as quite an achievement is I used to go down to the Chocolate Wheel every Saturday morning down at the market and run the Chocolate Wheel and we used to raise $250 every Saturday morning. So when I left the club I left them in a very healthy position.

My point behind coaching the team was that if I could get the people from all over Papua New Guinea, from different provinces, and mould them together as a team, playing together with the common purpose of winning a football game. If they could do this, they be likely to get on together outside of football and work for each other. And that was my intent. To make better citizens out of them by getting them all to put in a common effort for their area.

Some great players came out of that team. Paul Kombinari, who was a bit of a rascal and a runabout – but a great football player, had been to Yepoon College with Rob Reddy. He told me that he and Rob Reddy had a pact – that they would both play for their country. Rob Reddy went on to play for Australia and Kombo (Paul Kombinari) played for Papua New Guinea.

On the first Commonwealth side that toured Papua New Guinea, five of the players that I coached were on the national side for Papua New Guinea. Uve Sabumei was the appointed coach of that side. Uve was a dark horse. A very quiet little fella. His Sabumei Kofikai was the first school teacher to teach up in the ________ area. Uve was educated at an early age and so was Ben. Ben went on to join the Diplomatic Core. He was a real show pony. I ended up getting along pretty well with him after a rocky start. Uve was somebody very quiet. But on the football field he was a silent assassin. He’d slip in and get things done so brilliantly. When I was staying at the Bird of Paradise. He came to visit and he brought his son around to meet me. His son said, “Dad talk a lot about you and he wanted me to come along and meet you.” I felt very honoured. 

Another recollection of the Cambridge Cup. We played that and we were lucky to gain entrance into the competition. At the last moment we were beaten by Gulf which excluded us from entering the competition. In order to make up the numbers, they gave us a spot in the competition. Well Brothers went into the competition with snarled teeth and their socks pulled up and they made it to the grand final. That night before the finals we had a party. I remember hearing Neil Diamond’s ‘Hot August Night’ that night. So whenever I hear that song I think about that night before finals. In the grand final we played Mount Hagen. We were down 17-5 at half-time. A mate of J Neilsen who used to follow the team said, “What are you gonna do. You goosed it.” So I spoke to my team with harsh words at half-time. They pulled their socks up and they won the game by a narrow margin. Winning that competition was a pretty proud moment for me.

In 1977 the English Rugby League visited Papua New Guinea. I made friends with a little half-back by the name of Stevie Nash. Probably one of the best half-backs to play for England. Later he went on to be appointed as the Captain for England. In his only match as Captain, he crossed swords with Tommy Raudonokis and was sent off. He and hit it off pretty well because he was just entranced with Papua New Guinea: the natural landscape; the birds and just the way of the people. He was a lovely fella. He was a damn fine half-back. He was only a pint-sized little fella but boy could he play football. Steve lived in Featherstone which has produced some great footballers over time. He’d been bought from Salford for $39 000 when, considering inflation, in today’s world would have been a much more inflated figure. He said to me, “If you’re gonna come to England, come and stay with me.” After a series of events I was getting snowed under and was eager to leave Papua New Guinea and find myself again. I thought, I’ll take a trip around the world. Just walk around and take my time. This set me on a new course. I went to England and I met up with Steve. I worked as the assistant coach with Salford for the next eight months. It was a brilliant experience. Stevie opened a lot of door for me too. I met a lot of people, he had a lot of functions. He got me with the Worrieton Boys when we went to Wembley. He organised a tour of France for the school boys side from Salford. It was a brilliant experience. We stayed in a little village called Toulouse. While I was there the owner of Salford, Brian Snape’s, son in law, Franko said, “If you like, I can arrange for you to be the head coach of France?” It would have been a dream position but it would’ve been a bloody nightmare too, trying to coach to Froggies with their different attitudes towards things. Also, I wasn’t sure what kind of reception I’d get being an English speaking person. Having been at Montreal I understood that there was still animosity there. The Froggies have had their arses belted for a thousand years fighting the Poms.

Kevin and I first met when he came up to Goroka on a coaching trip promoted by Rothman’s Sport Foundation. He took me through my Grade 3 Coaching Certificate there on the spot. He was quite pleased to have put me through this, making me the first person with that level of coaching in Papua New Guinea.

Later on, while staying with my mother and father, I travelled down to Sydney to do my Grade 2 and then Grade 1 certificates. This made me the tenth person in Australia to have a Grade 1 Rugby League coaching certificate. Having that level of coaching, I went with Paul to Newtown and did what I could to help him. It was a misadventure then because although Paul was a wonderful fella but he just took on too much for him. If the coach doesn’t have the players, he’s gonna do it tough. I think Paul thought he’s ordinary charisma would carry him through but it didn’t work.

Newtown Jets got me a job with Public Works at St Peters and from there I continued coaching and I started up a coaching academy. I had wonderful people like Brian Smith and Brian McCullough working for me there. We ran the classes on Saturday mornings. We ran them for six weeks through a very hot summer. All we could do was offer them coaching and a better way of life really. Boys that were rebellious to start with fitted in beautifully. Everyone there was a pleasure to be with. We finished up the season with a presentation night at a Leagues Club. It was a glittery night. Kevin Humphreys and Geoff Prenter (Spelling??) were guests there. People of that station came. We had a wonderful night. The accolades were paid. Everyone was happy and looked forward to the coming year. I didn’t put my name forward the following year because it was just too much work. Paul was taking the Balmain players on an end of season trip to Los Angeles. When he got back he told me about it and so down the track, when I found myself in between jobs, I took a trip to the United States. I thought that maybe I’d pick something up there. I met up with a fella there named Chuck Lane. Chuck is one of the finest men I’ve ever met. Just so highly principled. He was having his 16th year with The Green Bay Packers. He was so well known that he had his own radio programme and he wrote books. He wrote many books on Vince Lombardi. He gave me so much, which is included a wonderful friendship. He lived in this beautiful place that he later rebuilt as a log cabin, right on the shore of Green Bay. I stayed with Chuck a couple of times when I went to visit.

When I came back to Australia, I looked around for opportunities. When I was in the States,  I saw these bins that were available at NFL games. Kids would use these bins to put their toys away in to keep their rooms clean. We used to call them ‘Footy Bins’. Anne knew me at this time. I went to Gadstones and I had them priced and I had to buy a quarter of a million of them. I thought to myself, how do I store these things before I sort distribution for them. I worked out the dimensions of every room in the place I was living in at Ashfield at the time. I knew that I could fit a certain number in each room. What I didn’t account for was the room needed to open the doors to use the rooms. Also with distribution, I would have had to have been on every street corner in Sydney at the same time in order to sell that many bins. They made four samples for me. They made one for: Eastern Suburbs, Manly; Parramatta and Cronulla. In order to promote the bins well, I went to tech and studied Marketing at the Institute. I took a bin prototype to tech and the group set up a marketing program on how to do it properly. It was interesting what we came up with in terms of the findings. My intention was to become the first Footy Bin millionaire in Australia. I was very sincere about that and I believed I could make it.

I met with key secretaries at the Rugby League Clubs. I asked them whether they were interested in the idea, offering them the clubs a royalty for each unit sold. Their response was that the idea would never go. So it fell down at that hurdle. I went to John Singleton. I took a marketing expert by the name of Ron Tackey with me. A fast-talking American fella. My goal was to set up a franchise operation with these bins. So Singleton picked it up. He ran the properties and so I was left with an idea but without any substance. That was one of those things you take in your stride because you come and go. I don’t know how committed I would have been. So I did a Grade One Coaching Certificate. While I was in England I was with Salford’s Rugby League Football Club and they had players such as Les Patterson as Coach, Stevie Nash, Kenny Gill, Alex Murphy (Light Fingers). The other players didn’t like him that much because he’d cheat his other players in cards. He was the coach of the side. Chris Heathcote (Name ???), he was the Great Britain Captain. He came over as a British Lion. They had 10 internationals in their side. Alex Murphy. That was the 1975 World Cup side that came out here. I found Murph to be a pretty nice fella. He was a great halfback. Matter of fact, I interviewed him. I’ve got his tape somewhere. I’ve also got a tape from Jimmy Taylor. But Murphy was an incredible halfback. he had speed to burn. I have a fond memory of him stand up on the hill in Sydney, sucking an orange. The crowd had disagreed with a try that had been scored and so they had pelted the Brits with oranges to show their protest and so Murph picked up one of the oranges and looked at the crowd and saluted them. David Bolton was five eight to Alex Murphy’s halfback. They had a marvelous combination. Just absolute speed on both. David Bolton went on to play for Balmain and won their premiership for them. Liam Nosworthy, even those he was the coach of Balmain, David Bolton was the brains in the machine.

One afternoon I was in Newcastle having a beer at the Exchange Hotel. Davey Brown came in. I went to school Dave and he went on to play for 3 premiership winning sides with St George. At this time they were probably the best Rugby League side in the world. Dave was a wonderful football player with a wonderful brain. He was a good bloke too. To my mind, Dave should have played for Australia. It was politics that kept him out. A bloke called Ray Bevan got the nod instead and went in to play five-eighth for Australia. I first played football with Dave at Tech High. The following year Dave went over to St George. He was very young. So anyway, Dave walked into the pub and he, “Doug you’ve been to England. Do you know where I can get a good half back?”

I said, “Yeah I’ve got a bloke on tap for ya, Peter Banner.” So he brought Peter out and he played with Newcastle, Central for a couple of years. he won Best and Fairest up there. So they were very pleased with him. I was invited to Peter’s wedding. He got married to Karen. I took Denise Green, who was Kevin Humphrey’s secretary. So Peter said, “I haven’t got anyone to speak on my behalf. Will you do it for me?”

I said, “Yeah sure, mate. I’d be delighted.” In that room he had seven hundred people from England on tour. He brought them out here for the test matches between Australia and England. So I’m standing there unprepared in front of all of these people and so I thought, I’ll stick to the subject, Peter and Rugby League. So I addressed everyone there, including the entire Great Britain Rugby League side. I spoke about the History of Rugby League. I spoke the great players that I’ve seen go through. It all went down very well. The Brits there weren’t interested in what Australia could do. They were interested in learning about the past. The story of England shows a tendency to look at their past. So that was a great occasion – to speak in front of seven hundred Pommies.

I went to America. Working with a bloke called Mike Myer, we tried to kick Rugby League off over there. There was a promotor looking for an opportunity. This promotor played American Football. he had an aura that went before him because people had hear that he was a great footballer in the NFL. So it took off over here, in terms of people believing that Rugby League could really become something in the United States. The truth, however, was that Mike was a conman. I linked up with him at the time but thankfully, he never got any money out of me. He got a lot of money off the Poms who were all hoping that, in a myopic state, that this game would go. So individual Poms put a lot of money into backing him. So he bought himself a Cadillac and different things. He was a great fellow and we had a good time together. So he was one of the more colourful characters I met in my time.

I remember travelling by bus into Buffalo with Mike. We arrived in the middle of the night. It was freezing cold. The bus terminals were always in the worse part of town. I got off the bus and I got into the shelter. A bloke asked me if I could buy him a drink and I said, “Sure I’ll buy you a drink.” I noticed he had a leg off and I said, “Mate. What happened to you leg?” he said, “I was on the train line having sex when the train came.” I believed him too. I met so many characters travelling around the States at this time. I travelled around for a few months at this time. I met some wonderful people. I spent 6 weeks in Long Beach with the Los Angeles Rams. That was a great experience to watch how they trained and to see the facilities they had. It was interesting to compare them to the facilities available to our Rugby League players back home at the time. While I was at the Rams, Chuck Knox was the Head Coach there. Ray Mulavaseywas another coach there. Lee Bennett was another coach there. He went on to coach the Atlanta Falcons the next year. Chuck went on to the Seattle Seahawks. They looked after me real well. Lawrence McCutcheon was the running back. In their front four the linesman up the front including Merlin Oleson. Merlin being better known for his role as Mr Oleson in Little House on The Prarie. Another player was Freedy Dryer, who was better known in Australia as Hunter in the U.S TV Show that popular in the 1980s. I saw I was meeting characters all the time.

So I came back and that’s when took over a job in Newtown as coaching director. After I was back, I made a couple of trips to Green Bay to visit from friend Chuck Lane. Years later, Anne and I went together to Green Bay.

Born 25 Nov. 1941 to William Arthur Alfred Nye and Alice Maude Adamson.  It was not an easy birth, mother and son pulled through o.k.  The birthing took place at Gowan Brae Private Hospital in Sandon Street, Hamilton, directly opposite the Hamilton Bowling Club.  My maternal grandmother was Matilda Adamson and my grandfather was Robert Adamson.  My mother had two brothers, Kenneth Adamson and Nesbit Adamson.  Nesbit was married to Aunty Essie and they had one daughter, Helen Kay Adamson.  Kenny married Sylvia who had one daughter by another marriage.  This girl was Judith Mason. 

Doug’s early education commenced at the Wickham Free Kindergarten in 1943. One of the earliest songs he learnt was the “Elephant Swings His Trunk from side to side as he takes the children for a ride”.   In later years, he would sing this song entertaining his kids. One of the early attendees of this marvellous little facility Doug commenced his love of books.  With teachers regularly reading to the children.   Doug’s memories of attending the kindergarten where of commencing the day by lining up at the front of Miss Carr. was a daily dose of castor oil administered for obvious reasons.  This was not something to look forward too.  Other memories include the lunches and the mother’s group would volunteer to serve to the kids.  These included pumpkin, blancmange and after our afternoon sleep rusks and a glass of milk.   I remember at one time, Doug rebelled against his afternoon sleep buy refusing to come out from underneath the slippery dip to partake in this afternoon ritual.  Miss Harker, being a no-nonsense person and a women of authority, in our eyes, simple picked up the slippery dip and broke the rebellion.  Obviously, a women not to be messed with.   I made some early friends at the kindergarten, including Allen Russel, Denise Kibble, Loretta Kibble, Neil Kibble, Ron Parrot, Ron Phillips, Wyn Emmett Renshaw.

In later years on attending the Anniversary of the little school, we happened to meet Wyn Emmett Renshaw and his sister when we were passing his house in Albert Street on our way to the kindergarten.

Then came my introduction to “Big school” where my first teacher was Mrs. Fowler, our kindergarten teacher, then came Mrs. Miller (nee Miss Smithers) the Headmistress who also taught 1^st class. My 2^nd class teacher was the wonderful Mrs.MacDonald whose two grown up children, in my eyes anyway, often called into Wickham to see their mother.  Mrs.MacDonald looked on me as somewhat of a favourite and in 3^rd class I had Miss Cunningham, who threw Alan Russel and Doug out of her class for being disruptive in her description and likening death to the banana express. We thought this was a real hoot. This was obviously not an ethics class. Miss Cunningham, by the way was an excellent teacher.  We moved on to 4^th class where I met up with fearsome Miss Kaylock, who wore half-moon glasses and would brook no interference to her teaching.  We had a big block in the class by the name of Cecil Gayle, who was giving her a hard time one day, remember this was Wickham, “with waterfront views “.   She simple picked him up by his ankles and bounced him up and down a couple of times.  I remember one day “cracking her up” with a joke that I repeated of a man with a hair lip wanting to buy a bra for his wife and trying to describe to the shop girl.  Miss Kaylock also was the school music teacher and she would be regularly tuned into the ABC music programme for schools.  Then came 5^th class where my teacher was Bill Finlay ex RAN.  Bill was a good block, who often referred to his pupils as Mongolian Mongrels’.  Bill hit it off with my dad because of their common RAN background.  Finally, in the list of hands on teachers came Mrs. Cooper, with the blue rinse hair.   Mrs. Cooper was a great teacher who made a great effort to get my lazy brain working with lots of mental arithmetic.  A couple of things happened in my early learning experience, one being a question on what time of the year did Elizabeth and Robert Brownings poem “Home Thoughts from Abroad” took place.  She put this question to the class and the whole class, but one, put up their hands and said “autumn”.  The one who didn’t support this popular view of the seasons reckoned to be Spring, the opposite what occurs in the Northern Hemisphere at this time.  I must admit, the peer pressure would always have you run with the mob.    The second instance was something disappointing to me in that I felt cheated by a peculiar event. To go back to that particular and that particular class.  The half yearly examines where held and I finished with exactly the same mark as the boy sitting next me, this is really unfortunate because that boy was John Fordham, the brains of the school, who could be visualised as achievement on my part, but it was looked on as cheating. I swear to this day, no such thing occurred. 

During this period, I think it was 1952, my mother and father were divorced.  It was a pretty nasty procedure with myself being subjected to rubbish that no child should have to face.  This whole thing scared me for many years whereby I grew up considering myself as pretty much a burden.   Also, in the year of 1953, Northern Suburbs RLFC won the Newcastle Rugby League Premiership and this year was the last year Brian Carlson, the best footballer I’ve ever seen, played for Norths before leaving the club at the end of that season.  Jimmy Price, the most envied kid on the block was ball boy for Norths.  I will always remember him swapping the game ball of that match with a jersey of Ernie Ashcroft, the Pommy Vice Captain.  There was a returned match with Newcastle again won this time Jimmy scored the boots of a Pommy player in exchange for the ball.

This brings us to 1954 where I attended Newcastle Technical High School, a select school, were memories are of some fine teachers, Mr. Stan, the Metal Work Teacher, Mr. Pink, the French Teacher, John Bloomfield, the Australian Surf Life Champion, was our PE teacher, to recall some.  The Headmaster at Tech High during my term there was Mr. Donald Short.  Also, winning a place at Tech High was another boy, Tony Wakeman, whose brother Geoff had also attended Tech High. 

Some other boys I met at this school were Kevin Oliveria, Don Mc Neil, Davey Brown, the later going on to win three successful seasons with St. George.  Academically, I held my own,  but to my mind now there were wasted opportunities. 

In the French class of 1954, I was dux of the year.  There was a failure on my part in that I would rather be the clown seeking recognition than the scholar.  This was pretty much the trend for the remainder of my schooling.   The year 1954 saw me start my aprentership as an electrician at BHP in Newcastle, NSW.   The choice of a trade was made by careful examinations of my options.  This included talking to Kevin Oliveria about our options for a trade.  After telling me was going to take up an electrical aprentership, I thought I would do the same, but at a different employer, but this was with BHP.  I thought that going to tech college with someone I was familiar with would be a hoot.   I worked arduously at my studies but again I played the clown.  This on reflection was, in effect, doing me no favours.   

On the formal studies side, my efforts in attending tech college were complimentary.  At BHP, I rotated in a number of departments including constructions where I was assigned to Jim Mathews as my tradesman, Reggie Bennett, in shipping, Jock Alexander, at Tungsten Carbide.  Then at BHP main office, where it was a pleasure to watch the young ladies meet for lunch.  These are some of my early recollections of my work days.  Going back to choices for a job was defined and refined by my father’s advice “I don’t care what job you take on as long as it is a trade.  This was sound advice.   During this period, I started playing rugby league with Northern Suburbs Rugby League Football Club in the under sixteen grade.  The following year I moved up to the under 18 football where the team won the under 18 minor and major premiership, going through undefeated until the last game of the competition rounds.    In 1959 I really hit my straps with a successful year when we were beaten by Central Newcastle.    I was picked in Newcastle under 18 rep side to play Colefields. Newcastle side included such notable players as Les Johns, Gary Banks and the Colefields sided included Jim Morgan, later to Souths, John Sattler, in all there were 9 boys went on to play for Australia from the teams that played that day.  The following year I was selected in the Newcastle under 20 rep side, which included players such as Brian Warby, Mo Wilson, Kevin Oliveria, Mick Carlin, Warren Ryan and George Brown, Dave Browns twin brother.  David, at this time, was firmly established as a centre in the St. George First Grade side.   This game we won 14-13.  Not a bad effort.  Other notable events to occur during this period was in 1952, Princess Elizabeth was Coronated and became Queen Elizabeth 2^nd and then in 1954 she visited Newcastle where, as a school boy, I attended her drive through at Newcastle Showground.  Little did I realise at the time, I would in 1974 be invited to meet the Queen at a private function at the Bird of Paradise Motel in Goroka, PNG.  Also, in the entourage was Prince Phillip, Lord Louis Mount Batten, Mark Phillips and a couple of courtiers.   Barry Holloway was then the Speaker of the house.   In this period, Marshall Tito of Yugoslavia died and Giorgi Malenkov became President of Russia.  John Laws was the popular DJ of radio 2NX. 

In 1960 I was a member of Nobbies Surf Club boat crew that finished 2^nd in the Junior Boat Titles in the first surf carnival to be televised.  The events were held at Dixon Park Beach.  The seas were incredible dangerous on the Saturday for the interstate championships and all junior events cancelled on that day.  A number of surf boats were smashed to pieces in the carnival.  Also, I remember seeing the board rider who qualified as the winner by just having enough surf board (long board) to make him a winner of this event.   On the following day, the Junior Events for the Australian Championship were held with Nobbies finishing second. Somewhat disappointing end to a tough season.  This was felt by all the crew which included Don Lloyd, Sweep, Allan Russell/Colin Richards, Doug Nye, Bow and Winston Loades.   During the heats we had drawn the worst draw on the beach in our heats and still won through to the finals but, at the time of the final, conditions changed and we were left at the start.  There were some compensations in that the following week at the Northern Districts titles, we crushed Caves Beach who won the Australian Title the week before.

Toward the end of the rugby league season, prior to the under 20 rep side being named, Barbara, coming home from work at WC Douglas and jokingly saying to me I suppose you think you’re smart alluding to my selection in the Newcastle under 20 rep side.  I cound’nt believe my luck in gaining such an honour considering my peer group of Bruce Lovett, Ian Sills all strong contenders for a spot.  Keith Grant also beat Alan Buman for the hooker position.  Buman later played for Australia.  Also, I was approached by Newtown who incidentally my favourite Sydney team with an invitation to trial with them in the 1961 season.  It was all happening and I couldn’t believe it was all for me.   I eventually declined the move to Sydney as I was recently married and chose to do further studies in a radio and television course at Newcastle Technical College.  I might add that John Oakley who replaced me on Newtown’s list for that season won the Merton shoes award for the best and fairest player, he won the around the world trip.   My head got in the way of any success in 1961.  With Barbara encouraging me to reach for goals that were, at that stage, made impossible by my immaturity.  At this stage, I like to go back to the 1959 season whereby I began to show the benefits of hard training with lots of skills practice that were taught to me by “Fred”.  One particular instance stands out in my mind at this time, this was training with Tony Paskins at Wickham Oval, later Passmore Oval.  At that stage Tony Paskins had not long returned from England, Workington Town where he had a couple of seasons together with John “Rupert” Mudge at Worthington Town RLFC.  Paskins, not long back in Australia, had signed on for the 1961 season at Oberon.  He was working at that time as rep with Rothmans, Paskins was an extremely talented Rugby League football player. He had been recruited with Mudge from Randwick Rugby Union FC and was an idle of mine.  Paskins played for country for that year and, together with Phil Jackson masterminded countries defeats of city for the following 3 years.   In this time saw the rise and rise of Graham and Les Johns.   Some thoughts on Les Johns.  I first played against Les at high school level, he for Marist Brothers and me for Tech High.  I remember particularly over hearing a discussion between Ted Sharp, a former central Newcastle player who was coaching the side at the time referring to the meeting between Johns and John McNeil.  Sharp commented that they would have to move Johns out of five eight as McNeil was proving too strong for Les.  John McNeill, whose father, Sandy McNeill, was a school teacher at Wickham Primary and I think taught Norma when she attended that school.  A couple of thoughts on Les Johns, in 1959 season I played two under 18 rep games and scored 3 tries.  One of which stands out to this day.  As was the style of rugby league in those days, there was a reasonable amount of kicking between fullbacks, seeking to gain field position for the team and Les Johns could really kick a ball.  He had many and varied skills as a rugby league player.  In this particular instance in the rep game against Coalfields Les was engaged in a kicking dual (the old-world order as was said previously a kicking dual was and attacking option in the old game.  The ball was going backwards and forwards over the half way line during this time I was dropping back to supply support for Les.  When I thought this is enough I remember saying to Les, come on let’s go.  He took the ball inside our 25-metre line and took off, myself in support.   Passing the ball to each other, we took the play into the Coalfields territory.  When I thought the moment had arrived, i.e  myself in a good position, I again took the ball 15 metres from the Coalfields line.  I thought to myself “thanks Les, you missed the opportunity because he did try to throw a dummy which delayed his pass to me which at that time I felt was a missed opportunity.   As I took the ball, the Coalfields defenced closed on me and I remember thinking I should go down and play the ball quickly and sometime else in my head clicked and my legs kept on taking me towards the trial line.  I felt myself getting close to the  try line and under the weight of the opposition players I crossed the trial line for my second try that day.  I remember being congratulated by Mick Kruck and he saying “you are really making a habit of this” as it was my third try in 2 games.  That try will long be remembered as one of the great tries of district park.  In those days rugby league was a big deal on Sunday afternoons as it was the feature event for junior rugby league in Newcastle . In that game against Coalfields my second try that day gave Newcastle an 18 points to 10 victory.  On another occasion in that year of 1959 I remember involved in a great typical heroic win by Northern Suburbs under 18 side.  We played South Newcastle at  District Park in a team that was doing It tough for a regular side of that side.  Before the game, we took over the “ship” and did our own coaching.  This involved a total commitment to defence.  Each player in the side realised this game was all at about tackling, a commitment and belting South at every opportunity. I remember during the game I remember turning around and being belted myself with a king hit from  John Falaherty.  My first thoughts were “God” the referee is going to send my off because I earned a few cautions. Colin Richards said to me after the game, “boy” you took it like a man.  To be honest with John Falaherty hit me so hard, I didn’t feel a thing.  He actually numbed me.  I left the field because I was bleeding a fair bit.  I remember Charlie Smith who was coaching under 20 at the time saying Doug you have 2 options, one, you don’t go back on and two, you go back on and take him out and either you get sent off or leave the field.  Fortunately, dad was at the game and he took me to Newcastle hospital where they stitched me up.  This game, to my mind, as I said before is a tribute to 13 boys one Sunday afternoon, Northern Suburbs where courageous.   Barry  Reed “Doughie”, paid me the ultimate compliment when he said “Doug” it was your win.  

During the summer I played cricket with the Wickham Club.  I was a pretty average second grade player considering I should have played for Australia because I practiced assiduously. The problem was I couldn’t bat, couldn’t bowl and a bit shaky when fielding.  The first wicket I took in District cricket was that of Les Johns (there’s that name again) at Islington Oval where I bowled Les with a leg cutter that went right through him.  In this time I saw great players in Australia namely Billy Watson, the prettiest of Bateman’s.  A lovely left handed wristy opening batman.  Played with St. George Club, New South Wales and Australia.   The hardest hitter.  Then there was Ted Dexter, the English Captain on the touring 1962 side.  On an afternoon in 1962 I watched him “paste” Johnny Martin to all parts of the field and early fielding became a safety hazard.  The most beautiful action of any bowler that I saw was that of Ray Lindwall.  Such a lovely smooth flowing run-up you would ever want to see.  Then for shear power there was Gordon Rorke from the Mosman Club, I think, who reminded me of a mighty Garth from the comic strip.  Other Wickham players at the time were John Thomos, Ron Camps, Eric Baber, Ron and Vince Martin, two young men, both opening batsman originally from Country NSW. So my summers where always taken up with cricket, surfing, surf boats and the winters rugby league.  Then in the summer of 1963 my life changed dramatically, setting me on a new course.  I completed my aprentership on 25^th January 1962 at BHP plant at Newcastle and stayed on at the plant for a further 12 months as an electrical tradesman.   During the years I was very friendly with one of the finest blokes you would wish to know. That was my cousin Norm Wilkinson who helped me through a very black part of my life following the break-up of my marriage to Barbara.  Norm, Brian Devine and Graham Johns were going up to Coolangatta for a holiday and I was asked to go along.  We all got on pretty well and I found that break refreshing.  They were a good bunch of blokes.  At the end of sojourn Norm suggested to me that we go down to the Snowy Mountains and look for a job.  I found this suggestion to be highly adventurous and accepted his invite without hesitation.  I had previously applied for the position of electrician with the Snowy Hydro Electrical Authority but the paper work for some reason did not go through.  So, lets try again.  Norm and I, in his Volkswagen, travelled to Cooma.  I got the job, Norm didn’t.  As there was no position available on the Snowy Hydro Electric at the time but there was a position open for a truck driver which Norm applied for but failed because of the “double shuffle” required in the gear box.  I remember watching Norm drive away and feeling ever so lonely at the time.  It was January 1963, even though the date might say its summer, but by God it was a cold night.  On to the next day, my first working day with Smec and after the safety course I had travelled to Jindabyne with my brief to refurb the camp electrically.  This was to be the start of a dammed good life.  I settled in to my new digs which was one of the huts that had been refurbed for my arrival.  I joined with four other blokes who had already done so.  The work was simple but suited me fine.  My enthusiasm for the work was quickly rewarded by promotion to Leading Hand.  The chain of command at that time was Bill Young, the top of the woser, Walter Kellner, his foreman and Deiter Hoffner.  John Reshevski, a Latvian fellow, Mick, a Yugoslav,  Joseph, a German fellow, Steve Sadahey.  Not long after woods our small band was joined by Peter Finn who had served his apprenticeship with BHP.  Peter was a good block and a fine tradesman (his father John, during the war years, worked with Essington Lewis from BHP), who had been appointed by the Australian Government to oversee the armament of Australia.  During that time little was known about Joe Finn but in his early years he was born in England and severed his aprentership as a carpenter.  While serving his “time” he won the apprenticeship of the year award.  Joe was a highly adaptable young man who ended up in metallurgy.  Little is known about this that John Finn came up with a method of inventing boring of gun barrels from both ends.  In fact, this allowed Lithgow Arms Factory to turn out guns twice as fast as Hilter.  This was recently confirmed by a gentlemen Anne and I meet at Lake Lyell out near Wallerawang.  Enough on John Finn.  The Jindabyne camp at that time was being readied for accommodation for an influx of workers who would participate in the building of the Jindabyne Dam.  One evening I received a visit from two blokes who had heard that I played rugby league in Newcastle.  They invited me down for training and was suitable impressed.  I received a clearance and signed with Jindabyne.  This resulted in me becoming an honorary member of the little township where the families that lived there dated back in the 1800’s.  So it took a while for them to fully accept you as a fully-fledged citizen.  I tore ligaments in my knee in a trial game at Eden on the coast.  Lorna and Bruce, at that time, where managing the Eden’s Fishermen’s Club. Lorna later split from Bruce and went to live in Ashfield, Sydney.  I was out of the game for six weeks or so and under the guidance of Tom Duffy, who was, at that time coach of Jindabyne, I worked my way back.  Up to that point, Jindabyne hadn’t won a game but there I say, after my return, they never lost a game, i.e. the final.  Tom Duffy was one of nature’s gentlemen, a bush philosopher.  Tom was critical of no man, looked after his family and others he meet along the way, his door was always open to everyone.  He cooked the best bacon and egg breakfast, and he didn’t trust anyone with the washing up.  His working life started at a young age where he boxed at different shows to make a living. Tough as teak and not of great size, he held his own, both in rugby league and rugby union (Randwick Rugby Club). Tom was chosen by Cec Fifield,  a talent scout for Rockdale Hornets, where he played with and against many of the great players who went to England because of the money offered at the time.  Later, a group of men termed “other nationalities” had a reunion dinner at the Coogee Bay Hotel.    The gathering was originally set down for the Gold Coast, but John “Rupert Mudgee” was ill with cancer and the group decided to hold the reunion at the Coogee Bay Hotel Sydney.  It was indeed an honour to be asked by Tom to accompany him to this function.

Names I have grown up with were all present. John Mudgee,   Tony Paskins, Rex Mossip, Trevor Allan, Cec Mountford and others whose names I cant recall.  This group of men played in England in the 40s and 50s for the team known as “other nationalities”.  This team played England in the series of what could be termed as “test matches” because it was often said that they were stronger than the Kangaroos that toured England.  It was a wonderful evening and all unanimous that the best player that they had ever seen or played was Brian Bevan who played most of his career with Warrington.  This was an undoubted tribute to a player who obviously looked nothing like a rugby league player.  He would go on the field with plaster and bandages from head to foot, but the man was a try scoring machine. Australians never saw the best of Brian Bevan, except a brief sighting on or about 1960?  As a matter of fact, a little story aside to that was that John (Straw) Anderson played centre to Bevan in a testimonial match for him.  Straw said to me that he was instructed to let Bevan have the ball at every opportunity because that who the people had come to see.  As Straw said to me later that he did not pass to Bevan as much as the East officials would have like because he did not want the ball.  He was out for the holiday and that was it.  That was typical of English Centres leading up to the fifties where the centres did not leave the way clear for them to run down the touch line and score tries, they did not want the ball or they would step out of field.  But still in all, these legends of the game present on that memorable evening were unanimous in calling him the greatest rugby league player they had experienced.  In 1975, another great occasion occurred where I was seated at the same table and next to the mighty Gus Rasman.  Gus was a big man and a great full back and splendid, informative and a lunch companion.  His son Bev played with British Lions.  In these last sentences I have jumped ahead to the mid 70s, but first I better go back against some chronological order.  So, let me return to my time after the Snowy I did relate previously about going to the Snowy with Norm Wilkinson and me getting the job as a “sparky” and Norm, my travelling companion at the time, missing out.  I think I’ve already gone over old time here.  Just to get things moving again, I was transferred to Jindabyne camp from Cooma, whereby I come to play rugby league with Jindabyne after Clyde Watt and John Connors came up to the camp one evening and recruited me for Jindabyne.  Early in the season, I torn my medial ligament in a trial game against Eden.  At this time, Lorna, my sister and Bruce McKeon were managing the Fisherman’s Club at Eden.  I think I have mentioned this before.  There was a big bloke playing for Eden, Keith Hubbard, who was a huge man and like Arthur Costello, our winger, could run like tin hair dog.  As I mentioned previously, I tore my ligament in the following trial against Adaminaby.  This was extremely painful.  As I related previously, Jindabyne hadn’t won a game up till that point.  My first game back, encouraged by Tom Duffy, I returned after six weeks in the game against Delegate.  In this game Tom looked after me and, as a result, restored my confidence.  The leaders of the competition at that time was a very, very good team from Island Bend.  A team of hard men with players such as Fredie Rickson, Brian Schultz and others.  At half time the game appeared to be slipping from our grasp and I clearly remember passing Joan Duffy on the side line saying to Tom with urgency, “Tom you have got to do something”.  Tom did. I returned to the field after half time, immediately put a high ball into the air perfectly placed with John Loder to score a try.  Tom did that twice more with Loder again the recipient of the high ball.  By the way “John Loder” was NSW beach sprint champion.   That was 1963.  As it turned out an eventful year and one that would have a big impact on my life.  At the very end of 1963 I was working with Utah construction on the Island Bend tunnel.  My job was standby maintenance doing shift work, i.e. afternoon and day work.  Work was to finish on the 23^rd December, 1963, for the Christmas break.  The car was packed ready for a quick get away to Newcastle.  My Uncle Ken Adamson, mum’s brother was to accompany me back to Newcastle.  About 10.30 of the morning of the 23^rd, I was called down the shaft to repair an electrical fault when all hell broke loose, killing 5 men down below in grisly circumstances. At this point I will leave it to the ABC and Siohan McHugh to relate the events of the day. 

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Back to 1960, Australian Surf Titles at Dickson, on the Saturday, the Interstate Titles were held, but all junior events where cancelled because of the hug and dangerous surf that was running on that day.  It was truly fearsome.  All the junior events were cancelled. Come the Sunday, the titles were held with Nobby’s SLSC being one of the favourites for the junior titles. 

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I spent the summer of 1964 on Nobby’s Beach.  Poor but having fun.  Oh, what a summer it was.  Come March I tried to resume my fitness and movement for Rugby League with Central Newcastle.  This proved to me to be a pipe dream because my body was not functioning well enough for a season of rugby league, so I packed the FB Holden, white with lime green flashes down either side and plenty of chrome for the trip to Cairns.  While in Cairns I joined MacMane Industries team working on the new sugar terminal at Smith Creek.  The wiring for this job was completely in pyrotenics.  The team was headed by Laurie Annetts.  I made a friend of Tony Packham, wild but a good bloke.  When the job was finished I would often call out to Tony’s place in Hughs St. Ashfield and stop the night.  As a matter of fact, he came to my wedding to Rita.  At the completion of the job in Cairns, I realised how close I was to PNG. So, I thought, what the hell, I will go over and have a look around.  Which I did.  Starting in Port Moresby, I went to Lae, Wau, Kainantu, then Goroko, Kundiawa, Manz,Banz, both these last two towns are in the Waghi Valley and then onto Mount Hagen.  Little did I realise that these places would become more familiar for a period of 10 years of residency in PNG.   On that initial trip I meet Bill Morrow, Colin Sharp, Jack Turner, at the Goroka Sports.  Jack Turner was the Turner in Turner and Davey Electrical.  Jack Turner wanted me to stay on with his company.  As did the people at the PNG Electricity Commission.  They even offered to supply me with tools until I could get mine over.  After a month I returned to Australia.  At this time, I was training with Central Newcastle.  At training Des Edser said there was a nurse’s party on over at Waratah, come along.  I was reluctant to go, but I went.  That’s where I meet Rita Mary Black.  As it turned out Rita was black and her father being the great John Black, soldier, statesman and explorer of Papua New Guinea and Brunie fame.  Brunie is a Moslem country on the island Borneo. At that time Brunie was part of Sarawak and ruled by the Sultan of Brunie.  We dated for a period of about a year and then got engaged.  And in 1966 we married.  After a respectable period, David John Nye was born.  I was not there for this happy occasion but drifting off Ocean Island.  I returned to Newcastle not mentioning to any body that I was coming home.  I travelled from Gelong to Newcastle where I made my way to the church for Lesley’s………………. wedding.  I remember the day I was wearing my new hacking jacket, brown trousers and Hardy hat and thought I look rather smart.  Rita was bridesmaid to Lesley, Rita was part of the wedding group and therefore marched out of the church with that group.  I was standing in the crowd still unannounced, anticipating the great moment when people would go “aw” here’s Doug.  Nobody bloody recognised me. I had to swallow my pride and introduce myself some bloody home coming.  On our honeymoon we travelled to Adelaide, my intention being to meet her father John Black.  We stayed in the Adelaide Hills at the Tollgate Motel.  Arrangements were made to meet up the following morning but alas John Black got cold feet and called off the meeting, but to his credit rang back sometime later to re-establish that meeting.  I went from elation to dissolution to elation all in a matter of an hour.  From the motel to the restaurant, Rita travelled with John and I with Dawn.   In that short time, I liked Dawn.  So, the object of the exercise was to get Rita and her father, John Black to finally meet and so it was.  As it turned out much more.  As future years would reveal this is yet to come.  Following our marriage Ma Adamson passed away and Maudie offered us her house.  As a quick aside but still a creepy memory.  We both awoke one night to the sound of the chairs being moved in the kitchen.  This was not a drill, this was a real thing, not by sight but by sound.  We both heard the scraping of the chairs on the lino as they were moved about the kitchen.  On further checking this out, there was nothing untoward.  But still we both heard this phenonium. Also, living in the house at the same time was mon’s brother Kenny.  Ken had finished his “work” with me as a painter down at Island Bend and was back working as a painter and docker in Newcastle.  This was not an ideal situation at the time.  Unfortunately, Kenny was an alcoholic.  He was always polite but erratic, as alcohol would dictate (see photo in album).  Because of the sale of Ma’s place was imminent we readied for a change of house which took us to Nowra Court, Denison St. Hamilton.  At this time, I changed my employer to James Watt in Newcastle.  One day I received a phone call from a Norwegian Vice Consulate in Newcastle asking me to join M.V. Nadar which at the time was drifting off Fremantle. My passport was in order, so away I went.  A rushed good bye to my family and off to Fremantle to board Nadar.  This was the icing on the cake, whereby it follows a previous offer to join a brand-new ship managed by the Botany Bay Steam Co. and at the time in Sydney.  This was that ships maiden voyage and something or other had caused a vacancy for an electrical engineer.  The recruitment was being carried by Captain Wood of the Botany Bay Steamship Co.  I had to inform them, much to my regret, that I was getting married in six weeks and had to decline the offer.  At this time, I was working at the Newcastle State Dockyard.  I was working on a floating oil ridge, Ode Zapata.  I waited so long for this opportunity buy had to decline and when this further opportunity arouse I reasoned that the extra money that I would make on MV Nida would more than contribute to a healthy bank account.  Even though I was on pretty good money in Newcastle, this was more than the money situation and therefore could not be equated such.  This was a life long dream and was a good bit to my family background.  This would be another Nye goes to sea. Rita had bought Tina; our Golden Cocker Spaniel and I bought her sister Anna down to stay with her.  I reasoned this would be good company.  All this came to be as detailed with the prodigal son’s return.  I joined the ship which was then as previously mentioned drifting off Fremantle at about 2400 hours on the same day (the time change by 3 hrs).  I went over my duties the following morning with the chief engineer and realised I was amongst people who didn’t know a bloody thing about electricity.  As a matter of fact, the previous replacement electrician, (there had been two leadership prior to me arriving), did not feel comfortable with dc (direct current) with a dc ship.  Armed with information, me and the Nadar were a perfect fit as I had spent my apprenticeship and other early years on dc.  I took great pride in my work by getting the Nadar into ship shake electrical condition and having the freedom to do so.  One evening I recall going topside after chow and about 5 o’clock in the evening, off the Western Australian Coast Line, at the time I was reading Taipan, a wonderful historical novel on China, when the deck chair I was sitting on collapsed and cutting off the top of my finger, causing me to be repatriated back to Australia.  This was indeed a painful blow under any circumstances.  I returned to Newcastle as previously detailed to sit out my recovery.  During that time, I watched the world expo in 1968, where the Beatles performed “All you need is love” and the Six Day War Yom Kippur took place. This was the first use of tv in that theatre.   About six weeks later I was again recalled back to Nidar the ship was unloading in Cairns, the previous electrician, like the bloke before him couldn’t handle DC.  It was an uneventful trip to Newcastle, my only complaint, was that of sea sickness while passing through the Barrier Reef.  The first bout of sea sickness was when we were making ready for sea and drifting off Christmas Island.  No where to go unless you could walk on water.  I left the ship in Geelong, like I said previously, in better shape than when I boarded her and headed home to Newcastle, events following this were previously chronical.  Fast forward to ten years in PNG………………………………………….. I responded to an advertisement for an electrical position in PNG (at that time Papua and New Guinea). I flew ahead of Rita and the children believing that Jack Turner would have marriage accommodation in place.  This was to be so and one of the reasons for my fallout would Jack Turner.  There were other things, but lets stay with the facts.  I resigned from Turner and Davy not too long after my arrival.  One day, three or four of the local people came to see me about playing football with the Brother’s club. 

A similar situation for what occurred to be in Jindabyne.  Brother’s club, at that time was more than a Rugby League Club.  It was a hot bed of political intrigue.  The movement grew out of the teachers college in Goroka finally to become a political party first known as the Brother’s Four.  This was set up to give a voice to the Highlands students who thought they were being disadvantaged as compared to the coastal students who had more exposure to learning than those of the Highlands.  The principals of that group were Anton Parou, Siri Saga and others of the Conservative political persuasion.  I believe they were financed by the Planters, but for the time being we will stay with the sporting prowess of the people.  I went down, as I said I would, to check them out and I couldn’t believe what I saw.  The potential was tremendous, so I quickly took up the invitation to be their coach and eventually ended up winning five premierships, the San Miguel Trophy, the Cambridge Cup as well as the The “Kumuls” in addition Uve Subaumei was appointed coach.  My boys made quite a mark and were ever so proud and telling me about the achievements in a later to New Guinea.  I always believed this group of young me could handle themselves at any level in rugby league.  Some local footballers stand out were Himony Lapaiso, Uve Sabaumei, the incredible Malcolm Culligan and his equally large brother, but a more gentle nature was Paddy Fegan, these final two were just all round athletes, fearsome opponents and great to build a scrum around.  There was also John Wiake, locking the scrum.  This gave us always a tremendous advantage in side and ability up front and at this point, I must single out two rascals who were my favourites, Paul Kombinari and Martin Landu, both boys being out of Faniufa Sacred Heart School.  At that time one of the teachers was  formidable Sister Mary Paul of the Mercy Nuns.  This area of Faniufa became known some years later as a killing ground where Luke Rovan and Peter Mione meet their terrible ending.  I will take a break now and relate this at another time (note:  assessment of Paul Kombinari and Martin Landu).  Luke Rovan who I meet through my friendship with Barry Holloway was the Eastern Highlands Chief Medical Officer.  Luke had studied at 5 universities around the world and a great communicator.  Luke and I got on very well from the start.  He was particularly interested in David and always bought him a little gift when he called on us.  Luke also was appointed (unofficially) to be the Brother’s Football Clubs patron.  Again (not to sure whether he knew this or not).

Rita and I were invited to Christmas in 1973 out at Jim Taylor plantation.  Luke was invited also. I was thrilled at this as it would have been the first meeting between Jim and Luke.  Christmas morning of that year, I was up at the residence at Morchauser St when Rita came up with the news that Luke and Peter Morne had been murdered at the bottom of the airport not from Faniufa. Rita was crying and I was shocked to pieces.  Luke was a very Christian person and a wonderful mentor to myself.  A much loved, intelligent and good friend.  The inquest to the murder was held at the Goroko Courthouse and eight young men were charged with murder.  The ridiculous part was they were charged with murder, resulting in seven men being given a sentence of eight years between. The extremely disappointing aspect of this crime was that these men had previously met Luke at my house following a meeting at my house.  I attended a preliminary hearing at the Goroko Court House and I was shocked that they showed no contrition for this terrible act and the only reason they showed any shame was that I was there.  The reason for the killing of both Peter and Luke was nothing, but the actions that preceded the murder were Luke “running over “ a little girl while returning home from a Sing Sing with her mother.  Walking along the road, she pulled away from her mother and ran out unexpectable.  Luke, not being a great driver anyway, and obviously didn’t react quickly enough. This was a terrible loss to Papua New Guinea as an merging nation, both young men’s families and everbody else associated with them.  This killing was senseless. Back to the Nida at sea. One evening, following a chow, I went topside to read a little of my current book Taipan by James Clavell, an Australian writing about the history of Hong Kong, a marvellous book.  It was a beautiful afternoon coming down the Barrier Reef.  A smell that can only be described as sickly sweet came wafting up to where I was sitting on the deck chair (I may have covered this previously, but what the heck).  As described, the smell got stronger as we chugged along.  It turned out the propeller shaft had broken.  The propeller had slipped back and jammed against the rudder.  A couple of things resulted from the break, principally, the propeller had slipped back causing the steering to be jammed. Also with the propeller now free it took off at a crazy speed causing the packing in the propeller shaft to overheat and burn.  This was the smell that I picked up.  We couldn’t go anywhere because no propulsion and certainly no steering with the rudder being jammed to port.  The captain, Oscar, obviously got in touch with the maritime authorities in Fremantle.  We were carrying 16 passengers, bound for Christmas island.  It was the day after our Christmas festivities …………. (approximately).  The injuries to the ship was substantial made more so by the fact that we were about to be subjected to the worst hurricane with winds recorded at their highest ever to hit the Cocus Island.  We were drifting out of the north west of Australia and everything seemed so sublime when as possible only the captain would know.  This cyclone was about to hit us.  I will take a step back Christmas was a merry affair with the Chinese putting on a wonderful spread for Christmas.  Everybody got a gift, my was a book by Alistair MacClean “Who dares win”.  The passengers enjoyed themselves.  That was the last night for a short period 6 days, utter hell, having no weigh and no sewerage, the ship was going nowhere.  The winds picked up and as I said before, we were absolutely helpless and at the mercy of the cyclone.  We had one real of film on board, John Wayne movie, North to Alaska, which we played over and over again. At least it gave the BPC passengers something to get their mind of our troubles.  We took a terrific battering for six days and the seas absolutely huge and normally, in these circumstances, we would have steered into the weather and limited the amount of ships to weather, but as I stated we took the big seas directly onto the side of the ship.  The cooks couldn’t keep the ovens alight, we had no hot food to speak of, couldn’t sleep because of the movement in the bunk, the people at mid ships, couldn’t move about simply because of this dangerous situation. It was indeed a torrent time. I often wonder these days how similar our predicament was to that of the crew on the Calliope.  Again, let me pause at this instance to talk briefly about my victory to Terry Shelly who recently passed away.  I first meet Shelly on the road just outside of Lae.  I was hitching a ride back to Goroka for a game of rugby league.  It was the final weekend for selections to the Goroka rep side. I saw headlights approaching and flagged the truck down. The driver was one Terry Shelly.  He took me through to Goroka and we became friends.  From that point, I went on to make the new guinea side with a strong performance against Ribault on the Saturday and western highlands on the Sunday.  In the years following, Shelley and I would bump into each other on the od occasion.  Using the work “bump” reminds me of another meeting when we got together in the Kerowagi Sports Club in Chimbu when on this occasion, Shelly the Wild Man was performing.  His lovely wife, the former Lyn Kawagi tried to settle him down, but Shel was in full flight, so she remedied the situation quick smart, and in Chimbu fashion, put a stop to the nonsense buy clouting him over the head with a billiard que.  On another occasion, Shelly was defending the coffee shed which housed his coffee.  The small group of defenders were valiantly defending the stored coffee that Shelly had bought.  The “raskols” were intent on stealing this hard one shed of coffee.  To fortify the security of the coffee shed, which, as I said earlier a corrugated iron building, Big Red William had given Shelly a loan of his white bull terrier.  The “raskols” on the outside where running sticks along the outside of the building creating great noise and stirring up the dog on the inside.  Shelley in the course of organising his small band of defenders back up against one of the chicken wire crates, housing the dog, the dog in its excited state, didn’t distinct Shelly from the “raskols” probably due to the high state of excitement due to the goings on the outside of the building.  So instead of biting a “raskol”, the bloody dog latched onto Shelly’s calf “non  discrimately the bloody animal” and near ripped his calf out. During the siege, one “raskol” climb through a space in the wall of the coffee. As he was pulling himself hand first, he was speared in the had by one of Shelley’s doughty defenders.  I remember one time after a football game in Kundiawa, one of my boys suffered a broken rib, incidentally, this boy, whose name I cant recall was an extremely bright fellow and a very powerful second row forward.  He went on to become a chief police commissioner in the PNG Police Force.  On another occasion travelling back from Mount Hargan to Goroka, on a very dark night, made more so by the teaming rain, my windscreen was shattered and my muffler broke.  So, in effect, I was trying to travel through this part of the highlands without headlights and a broken muffler and a broken windscreen. After a short time when I stopped there was no help available, everything was black. I looked around a saw a light on the hill ahead, I headed towards this light and it turned out that it was a local kiap manning the small shelter. The was a warm fire inside, to me this was a blessing as I was soaked and cold.  I was welcomed warmly and stayed till the morning.   On another occasion great hospitality and friendliness were shown to me by a group of lapuns, men and women, returning home after a day in the gardens.  This incident occurred while visiting Mert Derby at a school he had for wayward boys high up in the Ungai.  My visit was following an enquiry from Mert Derby who wanted some work done at his school.  While there I could see dark clouds rolling in and thought to myself, I better get out of this quick smart as there was no telling what the rain may bring, because sometimes the coffee roads become impassable.  The Lapuns who were returning home after a day’s work in their gardens gave me a ride over a particularly bad piece of mountain road approx.. 2 metres that had slipped down the mountain.  I decided to attempt a breakout from this obstacle and continue on to Goroka but the truck got further bogged down with the mud.  They came along and willingly pitched in with their shovels and get me through the obstacle and onto more secure road.  All that required me to get through was a thank you and a life further down to stable roadway.  I will never forget this generosity as it shows with most peoples a simple thank you it better than a materialist reward.  These Lapuns were particularly generous and unforgettable and on other occasions my mother came to visit us in Goroka.  It was the time of the Goroka show in 1972.  We lived opposite the Goroka Showgrounds. Also at that time, mum had taken David across the road into the showground and Kanae was in Goroka base hospital with a severe case of diahrea.  We nearly lost her.  As I said, mum had just taken David across the road to the show.  She had just got through the entrance, when all hell broke loose.  What happened was my mate Barry Holloway, who was then speaker of the house of Assembly, had been invited to award the prize to the best Sing Sing group.  The highland people have a particular style of dance whereby they shuffle forward, all the time singing in their own tongue with a rush at the end of a dance.  With arrows in there bows and spears in their hand, the rush can be a nerving spectacle.  What happened on this day was that while this dance was being performed, I was sitting by Kanae at Goroka base hospital.  I walked outside on the balcony of the hospital and saw a couple of people running down Morchhauser St. which was the street running out front of the hospital when a half a dozen people came running by, then a few more, and a few more and by this time I sensed that something had gone wrong at the showground.  I quickly got out of the hospital after making sure Kanae was being looked after and headed home.  By this time, I had to push my way home through a terrified crowd all seeming to run away from the showground.  In the meantime, mum had just gone into the showground with David and was absolutely terrified at was going on in the showground.  What caused this stamped was the failure of the coastal police who were on duty for the event not being culturally aware of the highlands dance. When confronted with the rushing group of highlanders with fully armed for the traditional dance, they panicked. There were spears flying, axes flying, all aimed at no enemy in particular.  There enemy was truly panicked.  I will never forget when I got home, parts of the crowd were milling in my front yard, crashing my garden and seeking access which they could see at the back of the property.  I can’t forget Rita standing alone in the surging tide trying to hold back this black tide of terrified people.  Another person in my memoirs it would have made his story particularly interesting is Slim Jim Flannery who lived out a hundred mile out of Lae up the Markham Valley almost at the foot of Kassam Pass.  Jim had what might be called a petrol station which consisted of one pump up bowser.  Jim had one eye a crop of red hair, never any shirt and even in the heat of the Markam always worn a pair of long trousers held up an old belt.  I had spoken to Jim briefly on other occasions our conversations were always brief. On this particular occasion I stopped for petrol as usual and happened to mention, I don’t know how it cropped up it turns out he knew john black and was very much in awe of him.  I can’t remember what we talk about on that occasion, but I do remember after that meeting his attitude to me was more congenial. This surprised me a great deal because, in my stupidity and arrogance, I did not appreciate the link and friendship it would have between this very, very common wild looking man and the polished gentlemen in John Black.  But I suspect somewhere in slim jim in John’s Black past, there would indeed be a war bond. Sometime later I mentioned Slim Jim to John and John’s reaction, where’s Jim, but fortunately, time wasn’t with us to organise a meeting, but from John’s reaction, there was a story to tell. In 1984, John Black returned to PNG and stayed with us in Goroka. It was a time of the Goroka and I have already narrated of the riot that occurred on the Saturday.  john was not there at the time, while in Goroka he met all the kiaps. one of those kiaps was Mike Carroll who invited john black down to stay with him. Mike was totally awe of john black as where the other kiaps. john went down to Heganofi to stay with Mike.  Whilst there a riot occurred at the Heganofi Tavern with was actually a boi bar.  Whilst there a fight broke out and then it completely got out of hand and turned into a real fraca.  Then john went down to lend a hand.  At this point, Mick Carol and the kiaps were fighting with the mob and in an attempt to get them into a police van and get them into gaol.  Mick told me this was an amazing sight and when John appeared everything calmed down straight away.  Mick was not a religious man, I don’t think so anyway, so it was highly unusual for me to use a biblical quote in this case.  Now back in Goroka, I took John for a drink and also to show him what the boi bar was.  Whilst there a young man came up and said, you’re Mr. Black, and John looked at him with some suspicion, probably remembering past events and said, yes who are you.  The boy said my name is Mr. Black too. This deepened John’s suspicion and asked with some trepidation how did you get that name and the man replied do you remember Heganofi and the big riot they had when you were  the kiap down here, you came in and shot some people and put a stop to the situation, in carrying out this action one of your bullets shot my father, fortunately, the bullet only creased his ribs and you could still see the crease mark across his ribs, in doing this, he lifted his father’s shirt and showed John the scar, we realised just how lucky the bloke had been and what long memories kanaka have.  I always enjoyed my trips to Heganofi and having the od drink both with native and Australians.  People who come to mind were Cecil (country), Barry Holloway, Jan Booy, Hue Morgan, Graeme Gillmore who, with his father, built the Kainantu Lodge with river stones, an extremely comfortable lodge for a weekend away from Goroka.  Its proximity was only about a kilometre away from the golf course.  It had wonderful bar where I meet with some of the folks mentioned previously. Another story was motivated by my taking up a hobby in ducks.  In my enthusiasm in duck breeding, I realised that I needed a drake to refresh my stock so in conversation with Kevin Murphy who was then teaching at a Kainantu.  Kevin had an excess of drakes in his breeding stock and offered me one of his.  At the risk of repeating myself, I will stop there on this narrative.  I would like to say fortunately the diversion to Muriel Lanas allowed me to gather a pottery collection that would be worth something now.  In interest in ducks was rewarded by my observation that they had a little bit of sense and that they seemed to take interest in what I was saying. In other words, I could have a yawn to them.  Though on one occasion i took them for a swim in a big pond over the Goroka showground.  I put the ducks into a chicken wire cage and loaded the cage onto the Datsun.  I let the ducks loose with the intention of gathering them up later on. But the bloody ducks had a mind of their own and wouldn’t listen to my demands about returning across the road to home. So that was the last of them and I would believe a number of Kanaka would have dinned royally that evening.  On another occasion at Goroka showtime, a group of Kanaka had been allocated space for the accommodation right opposite the old  house close to the power station. As it turned out this group of Kanaka were of the Kukua Ka Ka people from the Wonenara people. I went out the front one morning during the show time and was horrified to see that David and Kanae who climbed under the showground wire fence and were throwing stones at the Kukua Kukua people who were laughing their heads off as a lick lick mary and the monkey who were throwing stones.  There was no worries about their safety.  A good time was being had by all.

David was a troublesome child.  Why I say this, in growing up he was a troublesome child.  I remember one day mum coming back from the park and relating a vandalisque tendency in this child.  It appears that David was playing under the supervision of mum, when he got his leg caught in between the wooden bars of the park bench.  Mum had to get the park attendant to release him by using a wood saw.  This necessitated literally cutting up the park bench.  One strike down.  On another occasion in Goroka PNG Boomama, the garden boy, went to collect him after school, which was just up the road in Morchauser St. Goroka, when 2 brothers (white) confronted David on the way home.  This, unknown to me, this had become a regular pattern of behaviour, one might call it bullying.  Boomama was delighted to relate to me that David had knocked them both into the barat and left them crying.  This could be deemed strike two.  Another occasion, at the Workers Club in Newcastle, he was involved in a fraca on the dance floor.  He was charged by the police and had to go to Newcastle Court House the next day.  I attended court with him.  I asked Kevin Oliveria could he suggest a solicitor to represent David in court.  We got our solicitor and off we went to court and duly got punished.  It turned out David in a question from the beak stated he only hit him once, but the judge with a sense of humour said but you didn’t have to hit him 5 more times before he hit the floor.  On another occasion, David’s love of the Daily Telegraph, especially those for free, was a fatal attraction.   It appears he got into Newcastle one morning and just happened to be standing in front of a paper show that was opened. The delivery van came around and dropped a big bundle of newspapers as you speak.  David picked one up, with the intention of reading it and putting it back.  But on hearing his story, I said, gee Dave you can’t do that.  And the newsagent seemed to think the same thing. Strick 3.  This foot now is starting to look like swiss cheese.  On another occasion, he purchased a old rusty bomb of a car, parked out on our front lawn.  I told him to move the car which he took literally.  David didn’t have a license. The car was moved and knocked down a fence in the process.  The police came to “visit” and asked did I have a car within that vicinity to collide with a fence.  I said no, but I know who has.  When David got home, I said mate, have you been driving the car, he looked at me with innocence and surprise all over his face when I told him the police had been to the house chasing him up, I took him down to the police station, admitting ownership to the situation.  The police sergeant was impressed that the boy should show such remorse when really it was a ploy on my part knowing it would go down well.  That would be strike 3.  The feet are really starting to look like swiss cheese now.  Then there was the occasion when he slept in the neighbour’s house, unbeknownst to our huge Fijian neighbours.  Let me relate this short story.  After a big night out with the boys, i.e. Hammo and Bisho, aka Shane Hamilton and Brad Bishop, David, not having keys to the house, took the opportunity of climbing through the open window of what he thought was our house.  On waking up in the morning, he realised that he had been sleeping on the lounge of a neighbours house.  The neighbours, incidentally, were 5 hug Tongans   David left the house the same way he came in, leaving behind his shoes.  And to add insult to the injury, later we saw our neighbour in David’s shoes.

Back to PNG my fondest memories in PNG were the afternoons spent talking with Jim Taylor at his house in Karamu, particularly, on the rainy afternoons with the coffee bushes glistering with the rain drops.  To sit there and look out from the veranda with the shutters open was something I will never forget and also going out to the Taylor’s house with David, the house boy stocking up the fuel stove and the warmth from the stove added to the warmth of the Taylor’s made it something special.  I remember one morning, and David recalls it also, a tree fell across the road narrowly missing us.   Early mornings at the Taylors and late lunches with Jim made for warm memories.  Jim was a master story teller with a magnificent brain with magnificent recall.  Everything to Jim was magnificent.  I can still see him describing somebody from previous visits as magnificent.  Even the Japanese in the 2^nd World War were to Jim magnificent soldiers.  Keep in mind this was not a character reference but a description as an individual as a soldier.   Jim, for further knowledge of Jim and his “boys own” life, read Side Travellers by Professor Bill Gamage.  Jim had two daughters, Daisy Carpenter and Meg Taylor.  This produced three grandchildren, two to Daisy, Wayne Carpenter and Joanne Carpenter and also one adopted boy, Jason Taylor.   The rest is history.  Yerima Taylor, Jim’s wife, and a very shrewd woman, was a wonderful wife to Jim.  She came from a village in the Banz area and a considerable land holdings in that area which lead to land and coffee.  Yerima also was a wonderful host.  Daisy was a very warm friendly lady and to my mind, brighter than Meg.  Though Meg had all the opportunities growing up.  Daisy had wonderful common sense but Meg had formal education through university and the trappings which enabled her to become PNG ambassador to the US.  I haven’t seen Meg for many years, but my earliest recall of her is this tom boy attending St. Scholastics College in Glebe Rd. Sydney.  Our first meeting, if my memory serves me rightly, Rita and me took Meg out on lunch one day from the college and up the pylon of Sydney Bridge where we were blessed with a great day. On another occasion, after a day in court, I visited St. Scholastica’s in the evening just to see her but this was not acceptable to the nuns who had a dim view of my corny habit. I can assure you that this was purely just a visit. All the young people besides Meg who were fortunate to attend school were George Brough, Elizabeth Brough, Danish Greathead, Trish Greathead. They were the children of coffee growers who could send their children south for education.

Back to my tales of the South-Pacific:

Prior to my story of Luke’s murder, with my introduction to violence in PNG…this was a brutal killing of the district officer Jack Emanuel on or about 1969. As it happened, Emanuel was lured to a spot on the peninsula and murdered there. As it turned out, a false story to get him down there for the ambush. In another instance, where the story of Luke Rovin and Peter Moini in Goroka. I have related this story previously. On another occasion, Rita was riding her horse ‘Gittyup’ home from work. She noted a man lying in the driveway Danis Buchanan. She realised quickly that the man had his head butted in and was quite dead. Over up to the house, it was established that indeed it was the case. I reported the murder to police. It was 12’o clock mid-day in PNG, Peter Gentile was quite miffed about this interruption to his afternoon. It was bowls day.

On Monday, people from Ungai gathered in Edward street near the airport. They were armed with bows, arrows and axes. At the front of this gathering was an old man with what appeared to be a divining stick. Similar to that, used by prospectus and whoever the stick pointed at, in their mind, that person would be the killer. This was indeed a witchcraft. I don’t know the result of this method but to their mind, it had worked before. I wasn’t hanging around to find out. Another time, during a football match in Chimbu, the hospital which was nothing more than a health post was surrounded by armed men. They had gathered following a tribal dispute over something or other and were intent on killing the enemies inside the hospital. My player, brothers second to Rower?? had broken his ribs and had gone to the hospital for attention. And therefore, we had nothing or wanted nothing to do with this dispute whatever it might have been but still we were there in the wrong place at a wrong time. Fortunately, all is well that ends well. We were able to walk away.

Other interesting people:

 Holloway, speaker for House of Parliament. He was known as a piccanin kiap from his earliest times in Panguna, Bouganville. In his career, he traded coffee, food. He was also always active in politics and somewhere along his lineage, he was related to lord Darley who was Mary Queen Hopscotch’s lover. Holloway was a well-read person and a great speaker. On many occasions, we enjoyed a drink together. And his ‘kainantu’ store Holloway was among  the three founders of the Pangu party together with Tony Boutas and Christin Boutas. This was a progressive party. Hugh Marsh was Holloway’s partner in BMH- Janboui, Hugh Marsh were the partners of Holloway’s trade store. A funny incident occurred at the front of Holloway’s trade store…on this particular occasion, a political campaign was being run by the would-be members for a seat in parliament. In other words, the election campaign Danis Buchanan representing a United party was Holloway’s adversary for a position in parliament.  Buchanan was well-funded and had all of his aeroplanes at his disposal. He galvanised aeroplanes to carry ten-gallon polythene-material hats to distribute among natives as part of his campaign. His name was on the hats, e.g. a vote for Danis. But unfortunately, for Danis, the ‘parachute’ landed right in front of Holloway’s trade store and therefore, put a negative result on his ambitions. Talk about Australian snail mail: Holloway loved naked women and was a proud father to a number of children. He was married to his first wife, a Tasmanian girl.

Ikaini Nabop from the Finchhavan district in the north PNG. Also, he was married to a doctor Phoua who was from the kainantu district. She was a very bright young lady.   

I previously mentioned slimjim flannery and his bowser on the ‘markham’. A close-by resident Sam Marshal and his eclectic band of brothers would hold what can only be termed aorgy. They would gather on a Sunday afternoon and nail half a dozen ducks. They nail ducks feet to the floor while everybody danced around and force fed the ducks. The missing ingredient were local ladies.

The Kainantu tavern as I mentioned or I think I mentioned was built by Graham Guilmore and his father. It was a comfy motel with good beer and always good company. Other characters in this area were Kevin Murphy, Ralph Trivett and his wife?? An amusing incident occurred one afternoon following a drinking session at Muriel Lahana’s house. We called around to her place for a social call and she showed me some of the pottery (which I still have). We drank quite a bit of rum that day before collecting a big drake I had bought from Murphy in Kainantu. Needless to say, I was not in a great position to drive my truck but still forged on. How I got as far as I did, I don’t know. At one time, hurdling down the road with the back of the truck facing where I just came from. In other words, a truck had turned 180 degrees and going a wrong way. The duck I collected from Murphy was in the front with me and the truck rattled off the road and the duck crapped inside the car. So, here I was off the road needing a tow truck to get me back up on the road. I was covered in duck crap. Although I did see some  humour in it and laughed after it. That was strike three.

Other events which occurred during 60s, 70s, 80s and 90s were:

1. How I met Chuck Lane?
2. How I met Mike Mayer?
3. How I got an invitation to the launching of US rugby league?
4. At Sardis-Wills, Betty Franklin
5. At Sardis- Singleton
6. At coaching clinics in US—Albert Ferney,
7. Airport visual aids
8. In pavement
9. Taxi Way lights, Sydney Harbour Bridge.
10. Flash Tech
11. Hi Intensity
12. Greg Martin

1. Rick Joyflight
2. Samoa

In 1978 following a lead given to me by David McNally, I met Chuck Lane from Green Bay Packers.   Chuck, at that time was the Publicity Director of the Green Bay Packers.  Chuck was an excellent contact, made the way for me to go to numerous training sessions by the Packers.  At that time the Packers were been coached by Bart Starr, a favourite of Vince Lombardi from that wonderful golden period where the Packers were unbeatable.  Also, I was fortunate enough to meet other packers, including Jim Taylor who was viewed by Mike Maher as being a future Commissioner of the fledging US Rugby League. Zeke Bratkowski, Busy Thirtston, Paul Hornung to name some, all from the Golden Era of the 60’s.  I made a couple of visits to Green Bay, always fun. Chuck Lane was an excellent host even though we had a bleak winter where he was unemployed for 12 months.  David Nye and I travelled to Green Bay one winter with snow piled in the driveway and a temperature of -27degs.C.  David was really impressed with Chuck and reckoned him to be James Bond.  As it turned out David and I had a falling out in so far as he leaving in room untidy. David went his own way and turned up back in Sydney.  I continued on with business I had with Flash Technology re audio visual aids in the form of strobe lighting.  Prior leaving for the US, the Department of Aviation had contacted me at Crouse Hinds about my knowledge on high intensity strobe beacons.  I followed this through with a recommendation from Paul Babiaz, my contact at Flash.  They recommended I use the Flash Technology equipment.  I took their advice and did my presentation for this fitting to be used for the YSV requirement.  We sold 10 systems to the government and a further two, one to Channel 9 and one to Telecom and Knights Hill down in the Southern Highlands.   Unfortunately, money ran out for  further systems.  In this time, re airport lighting, the Department of Main Roads sent me tender documents for inpavement taxiway lights to be used for lane changing lights on the Harbour Bridge. I had best fittings and the best presentation but was unsuccessful on the tender. To this point, Felix House, one of the top echelon of Crouse Hinds, he showed no interest in pursuing this project any further. When I meet the Crouse Hinds rep in Los Angeles, Bin Jollimore I took him down to the Rams to pay my respects to Chuck Knox who was then head coach of the Rams when I first met the Rams in 1967 and he was quite impressed with my knowing these people.  The Rams, at that time, and Merlin Olsen, of Little House on the Peiree, Fred Dryer of the t.v. series Hunter, Jack Youngblood, Lawrange Mccutcheon–these were household names in the US.  The four made up the offensive four of the Rams.  While on the Rams I must mention, Chuck Knox invited me to go to pro bowl with his coaching outfit.  The Rams having lost the playoffs had been appointed to coach the NFC team at pro bowl.   So I went across to New Orleans with them.  While there, I had dinner with Leeman Bennett, another coach with the Packers.  Leeman, at the end of that season, transferred to Atlanta Falcons and Chuck Knox took on as head coach with the Seattle Seahawks.  It was a very pleasant afternoon cruising the Mississippi River.  Merlin’s success at pro bowl he had been picked for pro bowl for the last 15 seasons, truly a legend.   I travelled across the US on road 66 on the way to New York. In one such instance that occurred in Buffalo in New York state, I was in a bus station in the west part of the town. I got off the bus for a cup of coffee in the station when one man with one leg approached me and engaged in conversation. I asked him how he had lost his leg. To my surprise, he responded saying he was having sex on the railway lane when the train hit him. Another revisit was to Mrs Susie Caster from Wichita, Kansas. I had a number of interesting experiences on the highway, finally reaching New York.  From there a flight to Manchester Airport. After arriving at Wilmslow Airport, I was alone early hours of the morning when I saw a lady approaching me.  I asked for directions to Handforth to meet up with Steve Nash, who previously invited me to his house should I go to England.  I was there for 8 months.  He was also one of the most unforgettable character that I have ever meet.  His wife Linda, answered the door that morning when I rocked up to his house.  Anne and Linda became good friends following a further visit.  Steve was 5ft nothing. He was one of the finest half backs, it was my pleasure to see.  His courage, speed and skill was testimony of his winning the Frank Hyde player of the series award for the 5 times he played on the cricket ground.  Stevie could be tough and viscous remembering how he broke Mark Harris’s nose in a test match in the Cricket ground.  A brilliant half-back.  On the tender side, away from the football field, he was soft hearted nature lover.   I remember one day, Steve took me to meet a man who had influence on his life.  Brian Snape who owned the entire estate at Mottram Hall had employed a game keeper, Ernie.  He was Steve’s mentor of all things nature.  I was fortunate enough to see this tough little half-back so enthusiastic in his conversations with Ernie, picking the first violets of the season.  Truly a touching side of Steve Nash.  In 1979, when the poms were touring, Steve had a bad run with his knee.  The rest of the pomies performed abysmally.  I remember one night over in the pub where they were stopping in Rushcutter’s BN, Roger Millwood and Steve and myself were having a beer.  Kevin Humphries came in and joined us.  I quote “let me buy a beer for you two blokes, the only two with a backbone in the team”.  Through Steve, I had ten happy months with Nash family and Salford boys.

28^th February 2019

Steve opened the door to many contacts for me during this time, namely a trip with the Salford to France, another time to Wembley for the Challenge Cup final. Also, Crystal palace for a coaching course with others, namely, Peter Bawer, who Steve had replaced at Salford in a swap deal. Peter was a great companion. We had lots of laughs, particularly when Ettie Cheetham (‘a bow war fame’) Twelve months later, I found Peter in Australia. I had arranged for him to come out to Australia and and play for Central Newcastle (at the request of Dave Brown). Peter had a couple of good seasons at New Central and he justified my recommendation of him.

Peter married Caren. The wedding reception was at Lake Macquarie. My partner was Danise Green formally Kevin Humphridge, head of Australian rugby league.  In a new town, asked me to take over coaching school activities along with other coaches, Brian Smith, Brian Mccullogh, and three others who unfortunately, escaped me. Everyone helped me indeed. Brian Smith at first grade level in NRNL in 1978. The following year, I fell out of work with puppy works and headed back to the US for ideas. I came back ——————-with the idea of becoming a dustbin millionaire. These were simple bins with a team logo on the side. In my initial design, I estimated I would need a quarter million bins but storage presented a problem. At that time, I really had not thought through storage and distribution. So, I had to give up the idea.

 In my second trip to the US, I met Frank Smith, former US Olympic champion and we had a memorable night, for him anyway. Though I doubt he remembers very much of it. He introduced me to wondering Mitchel which comprised in equal parts white cream meant brandy, tequila, etc. I turned up at the work next day. I went back to Boston where I met up with David Naylor from Palmolive. It was a very bust trip.

US Rugby league:

It was an ambitious idea of Mike Mayer. I met Mike in Brisbane following a rugby league test match. We had a long time and he invited me over for the launch of US rugby league. I travelled on the same flight as Kevin Humphridge and John Singleton. That evening, we went out for dinner at Jim Taylor’s favourite New York restaurant. Italian food and the next day, I attended the launch of the US rugby league at Galaghers sporting restaurant, the full bid with red and white chequered tablecloth and sporting pictures on the walls. Europeans, Americans and American press were present. It was a memorable occasion. That evening, we continued at a dinner that will always stay on my mind. I was fortunate to see John Singleton at his very best when he crossed roads with Betty Franklin. Betty, whom I had met at the press conference the previous day, was a black lady who had risen through the ranks at Forbes magazine. Betty was an excellent companion and her stoush with Singleton entertained was something I always remember. They were two very bright people who had command on English language. They entertained the diners at Sardi’s- an evening not to forget.

My co-coach in my support Mike Mayor was two British coaches- Albert Fearnley. We had a rollicking afternoon with Albert’s fear of the local mafia supporting three women who followed us back to our room in Maddison. Albert kept on calling Edna. I returned to Australia and took up a position with the Newtown coaching academy. Peter Banner, who was living and working in Cox Harbour at the time, rang me to say he would come to see me. When he turned up at the door, he was accompanied by a huge man who turned out to be surprise. He was Darth Vader. We went out for dinner at the ‘Lazy Lobster’ in Brighton-Le-Sands.

David was for me the man who swung the hammer. He did say that the seafood he had that night was one of the finest he had eaten and wrote to Anne and myself thanking us for a pleasant evening. A further visit to England occurred in 1985 where this was Stevie Nash’s testimonial. As it happened, Terry Downes, who I had met at an earlier function, attended a gentleman’s lunch at Salford. Terry was primed and became very welcome (loud during the comedian performers). The comedian had a barb to throw at Terry. The comedian who was a scouse and right sharp with this wit and his time let Downes have it. The York Shire Ripper had more brains on his hammer and Terry Downes had got on his head. In hindsight, this turned out a very dangerous response to the performers. In another occasion, something I always cherish. There was Christmas with the Nash family. I was watching dance with aunty Linda till the frogs chorus—a beautiful moment.

Another beautiful couple who I had the fortune to meet through Nash were Mike and Joy Pearce. Joy was Linda’s sister. Linda’s father and mother were wonderful people who loved their homebrew even though it was green.

Steve and Mike were hilarious and always getting mixed interest drive. And then there was Mike, a good fellow who also enjoyed his homebrew. Mike and Joy had two children- Shera and Laura. Some years later, Laura came to Australia and we received news of her arrival from aunty Linda who asked us to look after her. I was expecting a little girl but I was surprised to see a beautiful, grown up girl with piercings. She found herself a job and moved out. She was a very attractive girl who could well look after herself. She was in two minds about returning to England. She was under somewhat pressure to return to her boyfriend who was waiting for her to come home. Laura stayed back up until Olympics in 2000. David and Laura being roughly the same age, got along quite well. David taught her to surf in Cronulla beach.

Back to 1974 in Goroka, PNG.

At the invitation of Berry Holloway, the speaker of the House of Parliament, the queen Elizabeth II visited Papua New Guinea. I was invited to attend a function held for her at ‘Bird Paradise’. This was a prime moment for me. It was back in 1920s when my grandfather and grandmother were invited to have a afternoon tea at the Buckingham palace with the king and queen of the British empire. I think I stated this earlier with regards to Holloway. He was a good fellow with great political skills. Berry’s liking for the local ladies was legendary. A party at Holloway’s was never short of local companions. Indeed, even the ducks were not safe. A cup of planters would spend their Sunday afternoons force feeding the ducks who had their feet nail to the floor and fed by the party goers. This was among other frivolities at these drinking sessions on Sunday afternoons.

Snowy Hydro History

Construction of a masterpiece by Faye Gonzalez (poem)

Australian surf 1960

Merewether beach

Ballad of the Calliope

HMAS Adelaide

HMAS Stalwart

HMAS Tingira

HMAS Jervis Bay

The price of progress- snowy by Sioban Mccue

Australian dictionary biography

Bill Gimage

John Russel Black (1908-1988)

James Lindsay Taylor (1901-1987)