The main task for
Friday 8th August was to clear and clean up the hangar ready for our ‘Open Days’
in Brisbane. Lower decks were cleared at 1400 hrs and Theseus berthed alongside
an hour later. From 1600 hrs onwards a continuous stream of officers and men
proceeded ashore to explore, and sample, the joys of Brisbane.
As it was Brisbane’s Annual Show Week and the local races, there were few
spectators to welcome us on arrival. Many of the crew headed straight for these
venues, but I was never interested in either horseracing or agricultural shows.
The same exceptional welcome was extended to us ashore that had been extended
throughout the tour. It was ‘back to the grindstone’ again. How much more of
this could we stand? We were all willing to put it to the test!
‘Open to Visitors’ on Sunday 10th August saw many thousands of spectators
visiting the ship. It was estimated that it was the largest crowd of the whole
of the Australian tour. Reports of our previous tragedies filled the local
newspapers, which perhaps made the citizens of Brisbane more inquisitive to see
what it was all about. As we had no flying to think about for the time being, we
could now really enjoy ourselves.
On 11th August, because HMS Glory was shortly to return home, we received seven
of her aircraft, which replaced those lost and restored us to full complement.
Our mornings on duty were taken up with checking over the aircraft, and
obliterating crests, identification numbers and letters, replacing them with our
own. The 11 days we spent in Brisbane were very much a carbon copy of those
spent in previous ports. A couple of ‘Open to Visitors’ days, the customary
march past through the city and, of course, lots of invitations, outings, and
‘wine women and song’ in abundance. It all passed too quickly, Sunday 17th
August being our last run ashore and again we made the most of it. All the
aircrew officers paid a farewell visit to Lt James, the pilot who had broken his
leg in the tragic accident after leaving Sydney. He had been taken to the local
Hospital, and had to be left there. Ironically it was also his birthday.
Lower decks were cleared at 0945 hrs, Monday 18th August and Theseus slipped her
berth at 1000 hrs. It was ‘goodbye Australia’. Again, we received a tremendous
send-off from the people of Brisbane, and the now customary emotions as we
slowly moved off to our Royal Marine band, and ‘Auld Lang Syne’. Even today -
more than 50 years later - this song means much more to me than just a song sung
at midnight on New Year’s Eve. It always brings back so many happy memories and
a lump in the throat!
At 1400 hrs lower decks were cleared again, this time to give ‘three cheers’ to
HMS Glory as she passed close by on her way home. ‘Goodbye Glory’ - she was due
to arrive back in the UK in October.
At sea our main duties were cleaning and repairing our aircraft working up to
the 100 per cent serviceability required for when they flew off to Auckland, New
Zealand. We also had the opportunity to ‘recharge our batteries’ in preparation
for our conquest of Wellington, our next port of call.
We spent six wonderful days at Wellington, having berthed alongside Aotea Quay
on the morning of Saturday 23rd August, and the ship was ‘Open to Visitors’ the
following day. On that day, and the following Wednesday, we were swamped by
crowds of sightseers wishing to show their appreciation of Theseus and her Air
Group. Next day the hangar was again cleared and decorated for a cocktail party,
which was attended by 600 invited guests - verdict - a tremendous success!
New Zealand is the Country of the Maoris; we found them friendly and hospitable,
and the girls were beautiful. Everyone in Wellington ‘bent over backwards’ to
make us welcome and, once more, we were sorry to leave. The ship slipped her
berth at 1030 hrs on the 28th August once more to a cheering crowd of many
thousands. This time, in addition to ‘Auld Lang Syne’ we also had a rendering of
‘Po Ata Rau’ the ‘Maori Farewell’. This was a traditional Maori folk song that
our much-loved Gracie Fields had made very popular during the war. It was
translated into English and became “Now is the Hour” (when we must say goodbye).
Maoris dressed in their National costume, singing and swaying was a colourful
and wonderful sight.