Ambush
Christmas 1962 was coming. My second year with the Railway and at college would soon finish. Thus, my annual leave was due. Lena was away travelling. We had agreed to put our relationship on hold. I hadn’t any issue with this except that I was bored. Hence, I decided I’d go on a holiday too. Though, I didn’t want to tramp on trains again! My good mate, study buddy and fellow cricketer, Phil, was also eager to escape somewhere. He, another cadet engineer with the Chief Engineer’s Office, wanted some space from a typist in the Clerk’s Office. Alas, neither of us had much money.
I suggested a Roylen Cruise around the Whitsunday Islands of the Great Barrier Reef. Whilst Roylen Cruises weren’t like today’s luxury ones, they were popular. The cruise company had converted some World War Two torpedo boats for tourist use. These accommodated twenty-four paying passengers plus staff. With their small bunk berths, the boats weren’t known for their comfort. They certainly didn’t accommodate couples and families. Consequently, they were my generation’s party boats for young singles. With summer being cyclone season with potentially rough seas, these cruises were currently cheap and affordable to skint lads like us. With meals included, we only needed to budget for a drink or two each a day. So, we booked a ten day cruise and planned to use our annual rail passes to travel to Mackay, the cruise’s departure point.
Our excitement on our first day immediately evaporated. Phil and I thought we had chosen the worst holiday ever. The winds from a cyclone’s tail whipped the sea up into a hellish turmoil. Soon, nearly all the paying passengers were seasick. I had never seen skin so green before. Luckily, I wasn’t ill. Consequently, I was recruited to the bucket crew. This wasn’t fun either. The bucket crew threw buckets of seawater over the unfortunates, who didn’t reach the boat’s side to spew. The crew then handed the dredged unfortunates empty buckets if they were too sick to move. I gave a very ill girl from Dubbo a bucket but didn’t introduce myself.
The sea calmed the next day. Phil and I changed our opinion. Idyllic islands, clear water and gorgeous young women in bathing suits surrounded us. Some girls even wore bikinis; these being the height of fashion yet considered risqué. Over the next nine days, the cruise visited the resorts of Hayman, Long, Dunk, South Mole and Brampton Islands as well as the uninhabited, pristine White Haven Beach. Phil and I had the best time ever! We ate well and drank vodkas and orange juice; a drink I wouldn’t touch now. We swam, snorkelled, beachcombed over the coral reefs and beaches and fished (which was permitted then). The reef and the fishes were a wonderment of colours beyond my imagination. We teamed up with everybody else to launch cross boat raids on other Roylen boats anchored in the vicinity. Everybody had brilliant fun dowsing each other’s boats with water using long fire hoses. At night, the crew (except for the barman) made themselves scarce. People switched to ‘quieter’ activities. Couples formed and snuck off to secluded spots in the darkness. Of course, I did too with a lass from Newcastle and enjoyed the uncomplicated magic of a holiday fling. She and I understood this was a perfect moment in time that wouldn’t continue.
After the cruise, Phil and I stayed in Mackay for a night before catching a train back to reality. I had said goodbye to the Newcastle lass and Phil his own farewell. On our lonesome and at a loss for the evening, we decided to see if somebody else from the cruise was loitering around the waterfront. We ran into the girl and her friend from Dubbo. This girl, I had surreptitiously checked out whilst on the boat. She wasn’t tall. Yet, she had lovely curves that her swimsuit highlighted. She introduced herself as Robyn. I quickly discovered the girls were three years older than us. They didn’t mind. Instead, they asked us up to their unit for drinks. They had a bottle of Pimms. We didn’t care what they drank! That night, the four of us sat on the carpet and talked about anything and everything for hours. Eventually, Phil returned to our unit and Robyn’s friend crept off to bed.
I liked talking to Robyn. She mentioned she was engaged with her wedding to happen soon. Thus, this holiday was her last hurrah. She said she was Catholic and committed to her faith. Accordingly, she had taken a celibacy vow like many other Catholic girls did. I, a Protestant lad, knew she couldn’t enjoy anything beyond a good night kiss. Her fiancé was consequently very frustrated and grumpy. I didn’t argue the point one way or the other. Everybody had their own beliefs. On that note and given the lateness, I stood to leave, wanting to grab some sleep. I leant to give her a chaste kiss. Alas, we became entangled together. I didn’t see this coming! After some time passed, I disentangled myself from her. Robyn wrote down the Gold Coast address where she and her friend were booked to stay for the next week. I left feeling bewildered. I hadn’t experienced such physical fervency before.
I ruminated for the next two days on the train. This girl bamboozled me! She said one thing yet did the opposite. Once at home, I immediately jumped into my car and decided to find Unit 308 Sea Breeze, Cavill Avenue, Surfers Paradise. Robyn opened the door and inside I went to temptation.
I believed she saw me as a flitting fling, best remembered secretly yet never acknowledged publicly. I assumed she’d return to her life and fiancé. I’d never see her again like the lass from Newcastle; sad as that was. I was wrong! She wrote letters to me, and so frequently, I couldn’t keep up my replies. Neither, I did have anything interesting to write. Hers however were hair raising to me!
Robyn cancelled her wedding and ended her engagement. She though hadn’t decided what to tell the guests. She blamed me for this debacle and her consequent embarrassment. She thought I should extricate her from it and restore her reputation. In other words, I should uplift my life and join her in Dubbo. I felt trapped! I was merely a lad wearing men’s trousers! I couldn’t understand why a very short tryst should determine her and my futures. Nor could I grasp why the tryst was sufficient reason to ditch her fiancé, somebody she supposedly had loved. Although my Brisbane life was disheartening, I couldn’t throw away the hard two years I’d endured towards my Railway apprenticeship and my college studies. Dubbo offered me nothing. Whilst I was barely treading ‘water’ with my job and studies, I didn’t want to drown in the unknown. Besides, Lena would return soon. I wished to dance with her more than anything else.
Before the brief respite of my summer holiday, I lived a mostly dismal existence (except for dancing). Now a worse one had ambushed me with no apparent way out.
