family

Meantime Back at the Oil Rig

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Val was in Tambo Hospital confined with her 4th child who had been delivered on 7th September, 1957. Bill was compelled to be superdad for a week.

As it happened, early in that very week, a truck came to the Oil Rig.

Val & Kids with Truck_Tambo_Enhanced Arcsoft

The crane truck was used to load and unload the various trucks that were coming to the Oil Rig as it was taken to pieces to be used in other locations like Weipa and Timor.

Bill needed to operate the crane truck to help unload it and then load it up again.

Bill was in a real bind. He couldn’t operate the crane truck with the 3 children in the truck, because they would be too distracting. He couldn’t leave them at large, because he couldn’t be sure that the children wouldn’t get in the road and into harms way.

What could he do?

The only solution seemed to be to lock them in one of the altents. That’s just what he did. He locked all 3 in the kitchen Altent and dealt with the matter at hand.

When the truck was seen to and gone, he open the door of Altent. Nothing could have prepared him for the what awaited him. 3 children can do a lot an hour, even without assistance. They had managed to get into and open almost everything imaginable – powdered milk, honey, flour…..

The place was a disaster. The kids were a mess. And Bill was on his own. It was like an overdone food-fight scene from a Disney movie.

Oil Rig Site Map

A sketch of the site of the Oil Rig and the Altents were Bill and Val and children lived. Notice the washing area in front of the Altents and water drums on the other site,

He did the best he could to clean up the kitchen and the kids.

Now by this time in addition to the mess from the children there were dirty nappies, dirty clothes and now dirty kids and a dirty kitchen. He’d been batching in primitive conditions for much of the week.

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The wash stand can be seen with a small dish in front of the bonnet of the Land-Rover and the large tubs with handles can be seen over the top of the bonnet.

Bill had to make a serious attack on the washing and that was quite a process at the best of times.

There were were 2 tubs on a washing stand that Bill had made. One tub was used for washing and the other was for rinsing the clothes.

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Val washing up the dishes at the wash stand between the Altents. Notice the bucket in front of the tree used to carry water from the 44 gallon drums to the tubs for washing or for baths or to the kitchen for domestic use.

A kerosene tin was used to boil the clothes that needed boiling since no copper was available.  Polyester clothes were a real hit because they didn’t need boiling.

The water had to be carried in buckets from the three 44 gallon drums which were the water storage.

Those same tubs were used for bathing. They had handle and were lifted down from the wash-stand at bath time. In winter, which was freezing cold, the tub was placed near the cooking fire, which was between the 2 Altents. On the fire-side, you boiled and on the other side you froze – all in the same tub at the same time.

And then there were the dishes…..

Bill, as matron had insisted, was able to get by.she_who_must_be_obeyed_postcards_package_of_8

Blokes, if you think it is tough to manage these days, spare a thought for Bill, who all round had a pretty tough week. He was being superdad in circumstances that were about as difficult as you could get. But, at the insistence of Hospital Boss and Sergeant Eiser, he manned up and got through it.  Job done!imgres-1

A Celebration Too Far

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‘I have a new son!!’ beamed Bill to anyone who would listen in the bar of the Club Hotel in Tambo.  It was Saturday 7th September, 1957.  Val was recovering in the maternity ward of the Tambo Hospital, the new bairn in the nursery and his other 3 children in the car outside.

Whilst birth might now be a family event, in 1957 there was no way that a husband would be allowed into the sanctity of the delivery ward, especially with 3 siblings.

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Bill holding Lynda alongside the ODE International. Bill(y) and Johanne are standing beside him.

Having been ordered out of the way earlier in the day with Billy, Johanne and Lynda, he was officially now on solo father duty.

What would he do?  How would he celebrate being a dad again?

Ah, of course, the Club Hotel bar beckoned.  He would go and have a beer and a chat with John Steer, the publican.

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The International Utility truck belonging to ODE. The Wight children waited in the ute outside the pub all day while Bill drank at the bar. The whole family could fit into the very large cab. The children could sleep in the back. This picture was taken after Val come home with the baby whose birth was being so enthusiastically celebrated.

Kids did sit outside in the car those days.  Probably not without complaint.  But it wouldn’t put a parent in the bind that it would nowadays.

Dutifully, Bill went and checked in progress at the Hospital.  Yes!  Operation a success, his manhood proved again.  Allen had entered the world.

Ushered out of the hospital again, Bill went straight back to the only place to celebrate, the Club Hotel.  Again, the 3 kids sat out in the car, checked on from time to time by Bill who went on celebrating far on into the afternoon.

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The 3 Wight kids spent all day stuck in the car outside the Club Hotel in Tambo on 7th September, 1957.

The kids sitting in the car came to attention of the local police.  For these local police, kids in the car outside of a pub all day was not going to happen on their watch.  In 1957, most things that happened in families was the head of the families’ business.   They decided this matter needed attention.

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The Queensland Police with the motto.

Senior Sergeant  WA Eiser went into the bar and located the celebrating new father.

Sergeant Eiser did his best to apply the ‘Firmness with Courtesy’ principle of the motto of Queensland Police Service.  He pointed out to Bill that he was a family man and that he needed to get the children home and not leave them sitting out in the car.

Bill assured him that everything was under control and he didn’t need the advice.  The kids were just fine.

At the insistance of Sergeant Eiser, they left the bar and went out to the car, so that Bill could show him that the kids were OK.

Then Bill, in his own words, began to mouth off at Sergeant Eiser.   ‘I’m looking after them and they are just fine thank you very much, SIR.  They are being fed and they are are having plenty to drink, SIR.’

Courtesy was not being beamed back to the good Sergeant from Bill, nor respect for the authority of the law.

Bill could be fiery and he had the broken nose scars to prove it.  ‘And I don’t need your bloody help, SIR’, mouthed Bill defiantly.

‘OY Andy!’, yelled Sergeant Eiser and the next thing Bill knew, he was lying over the bonnet of the ute, with his arm up his back in a half-nelson.  Bill was in Constable Andy Stagg’s vice-like grip and he wasn’t going anywhere.  Andy had been quietly waiting around the corner, just in case the matter proved troublesome and was there in a flash when called on.

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Police in uniform in Brisbane around 1949. The Tambo Police Sergeant and Constable Andy would have been dressed similarly to the officers in the middle on the picture. Picture from thetannykid in flickr.

 

With Bill now more cooperative, Sergeant Eiser checked Lynda’s napkin.  Fortunately for Bill, he had recently changed it and it was dry.

Now the lecture began in earnest.  And Bill just had to cop it thanks to Andy.

‘I should put you in the lockup and the only reason I’m not, is that we don’t have a place for those children.’ the Sergeant lectured.

‘Now you – get home – right now!!’, he ordered.

‘And don’t forget, we’re watching you!’, he warned.

Shaken and subdued, Bill got into the ute and hightailed it for the Oil Rig.

 

 

On the way home, he hit a big boer pig and stoved in the mudguard of the ute as he rammed it into the bank of a cutting.

He bragged about ramming the pig for years but not so much the rest of the story.

(**Editor – The source of this story is Bill himself.  He had the ability to laugh at himself.  He could have taken this story to his grave because no-one present at the incident was seen again after 1958, but he revealed this and a few others interesting tales that are part of who he was.)

 

 

 

 

 

A Glimpse at Grangegorman Female Depot

In October, 2011, Val, Bill and Lynette travelled around the globe as detectives seeking clues to give us a better picture of where the people who became our forebears came from.  First, there was a whistlestop tour of Fredericton in Canada where William Johnston (WJ) deserted the British army.  Then there was Crosscanonby in Cumbria to the church where WJ was baptised.  Crossing the Irish Sea we discovered Ballymena, the home of Irish-Scottish McClintocks and Fivemiletown where James Carey stole a cow and then Roscommon on the trail of Ann Carey who stole to be with her husband in Tasmania.

We found little in Roscommon to connect with Ann Carey, but we knew that she spent time in the Grangegorman Female Depot in Dublin and that the buildings were still in existence. We were fortunate enough to have a copy of her record page at the prison thanks to some good investigation by Thelma McKay in Hobart.

From Rosscomon to Dublin

So instead of having our customary drink and toast in Roscommon, we made straight for Dublin because we needed to visit Ireland oldest pub and then find Grangegorman Female Depot before darkness overtook us. With a flight already booked, we had to fly back to London the next day and we hadn’t seen enough of Ballymena to get a feel of where the McClintocks came from.

Ann Carey spent 3 months in that dreary prison in 1847, after being convicted of larceny in Omagh in County Tyrone. She was awaiting the SV Waverley, which was to transport her to Van Diemen’s Land on its third voyage to Hobart Town.

Our first stop in Dublin was the Brazen Head which claims to Ireland oldest and pub and that was the appropriate place to drink the health of our little Irish grandmother who was all of 4 foot 11 inches, feisty and quite prepared to tell you to ‘feck off’. In fact, she was charged with doing just that in Hobart Town on 20th January, 1852.   That information comes from her Convict Conduct Record.  Some of the family stories are even more interesting.   One is that she smoked a pipe stoked with the tobacco from cigarette butts off railway workers.  That’s right – my fifth great grandmother smoked a pipe! But as far as I am aware, she did not wear army boots.

The Brazen Head - Ireland Oldest Pub

The Brazen Head was the favourite drinking place for novelist James Joyce and I still remember his depressing descriptions of grey Dublin days. A year before this visit, our son  Andrew and wife Megan had taken us to this pub for the Sunday Singing Session. It was grand!! We listened and joined in with singing sad ballads about life and trouble with a room crowded with morbid melody.  A fitting place to toast Ann Carey. We did so with Guinness, because we knew that it is good for your health and enhances your intelligence.  The ads told us so.

Lack of preparation plagued us in the execution of the quest to find Grangegorman Female Depot. Doesn’t even sound like a prison does it? Well, nobody knew anything about it because it wasn’t a prison any longer. Fortunately, Lynette had brought backup of our home server and I had copied an article on the prison. We pulled up the copy on my PC and found that it was in Stoneybatter, Dublin 7. What did our Irish GPS think about that?

Well that was quite OK for the GPS, we got to Stoneybatter just fine but right on peak hour traffic. But that just wasn’t close to anything that looked for a former prison. If only I had looked at the article more closely, as it had one piece of vital information we needed to find our prison. We didn’t have the name of the street, did we? A suburb name just wasn’t near enough.

Grangegorman Entrance in 1996

We drove up some torturous narrow little streets using the random drive approach and asked some construction workers.  Their directions got us to the current men’s prison. Nope – that’s not it. So we went into a road that led to bus depot with a security gate. An inquiry there got us directions to the Grangegorman Hospital. All this at peak hour!!

While I was summoning up the courage to break back into the traffic to go to the Grangegorman Hospital which was nearly but not quite there, I thought I would have one more look at the internet article item that I had copied. Great day in the morning!  It had the street name further down in the article. Rathdowney Road. That was what we needed. We tapped this into our trusty little GPS and off we went.

After 3 wrong turns we were in the right street. Now all we had to do was drive the street and hope that the prison was going to a big complex that we just couldn’t miss. Well it almost was. We took pictures of a depressing front entrance and didn’t know we had found IT for sure until we arrived back in Oz and found an article on the prison.

Entrance to Grangegorman in 2011

Just like some depressing description out of James Joyce before imbibing at the Brazen Head, it was grey, it was dreary and my heart ached for poor Ann having to endure this sad place with harsh grey stone walls. She so deserved the payoff of eventually finding true love for enduring this place.

I like to think she did find true love with WJ, but that wasn’t until 1854 after a couple of false starts. She had to tell a few to ‘feck off’ and then one, John Hambrook, saw her off and she was sentenced to 6 months hard labour for her trouble and a pregnant with a little girl by the name of Mary Ann Carey.

But for all that, there was a happy ending with WJ and some absolutely grand descendants. She possibly reached a point in her life of thanking Judge Torrens for giving her the transportation sentence that she wanted on the 8th March 1847 in the County Tyrone Quarter Sessions.

The best perspective we could get was the rear of Grangegorman Female Depot from Fitzgerald St. It was high multistorey walls with missing windows that had incarceration written all over it.

Derelict remains of Grangegorman Womans Prison

Traversing the cavernous doors at the front entrance on Rathdowny Rd would make you feel like you had passed out of life into darkness. The steel doors present in a 1969 photo where not there in 2011. But it still looked daunting.

The stone walls of the outer the perimeter from Rathdowny Road looks like they hide another world.

It was easier for Ann than the long term residents.  She was there for 3 months to give her some fundamental training before going to Van Diemen’s Land. The Convict Department in Tasmania were trying to get better outcomes from female convicts who were not hired by settlers because they had no skills. She was actually fortunate to be here, as dreary as it looked.

We managed to see as much as we could of a former prison from the outside and then headed north for the Holiday Inn Express in Antrim for our last night in Ireland.

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