Stuart and I departed from Sydney on the Oriana on Wednesday 12th February 1969. The final hours had not been uneventful. We found that vital papers, our carnet and green card car insurance, would not be ready until the last moment. Then P&O would not accept our car with our camping gear still in it. There followed a rush around Pyrmont to find a large crate and fill it with the offending goods. A $300 bond for the carnet was deposited with the NRMA who then would see to the draining of the petrol tank and loading of the car. Rain was falling throughout our final preparations, continuing until our departure in failing light at 7 pm. My diary records that it was really quite a sad affair, not at all exciting. There was no one on the dock to see us off as all our farewells with family and friends had been in Canberra and Brisbane earlier. But now at least we were under way.
We quickly found that there were other overlanders with us on board. Stuart and I were in a four berth cabin with Vic O’Connell, a school teacher from Canberra. He was planning to hitch hike overland to the United Kingdom with his wife, Chris, who was in another cabin. There were also two Canadians at our dining hall table who were planning to drive overland with a fellow countryman in their VW Beetle after spending 10 months in Australia. Others were passengers joining Indiaman and Penn Overland bus tours in India. One of these was my old friend David Bennett from the BMR who I had known since school and university days. There were also three Commer vans on board, each carrying 8 to 12 passengers, all going overland as well. Clearly there would be a major exodus in Colombo.
Meanwhile we were sailing in fine weather along the beautiful Queensland coast inside the Great Barrier Reef. As we passed through Whitsunday Passage I recognised the islands I had visited in the course of my research project at the University of Queensland several years earlier. As we headed north the channel became narrower and at times the reef was visible to starboard. There was a pilot on board guiding the ship and he departed at Thursday Island. We now steamed west through Torres Strait into the Arafura Sea and, out of sight of land, into Indonesian waters. Our route would take us through Manipa Strait past the northeast tip of the Celebes, then along the west coast of Mindanao into the South China Sea and on to Hong Kong. The weather was perfect, the sea a mill pond, and our days were spent mainly in talking to other passengers about their travel plans. There was the obligatory King Neptune ceremony to mark the crossing of the Equator, a ‘China Sea Race Meeting’ and, otherwise, movies were optional every evening to relieve the tedium.
We were up before dawn to see our arrival in Hong Kong harbour. It was overcast and bitterly cold. As we docked, sampans pulled along side with Chinese begging for money using nets on long poles. Vendors also came on board selling watches and clothes. Both Stuart and I were keen photographers and, in those days, photographic and electronic equipment could be bought in Hong Kong for as little as half the cost in Australia. Like many others on board, we intended to shop as well as sight-see. In two hectic days I bought two additional lenses for my Nikon cameras, a Leitz slide projector and a genuine Rolex watch. The weather was much as it had been in Sydney, overcast and wet, so we restricted our sightseeing to the alleys and side streets of Kowloon and Hong Kong Island. Battered diesel taxis drove by flat out tooting wildly, either to attract our business or to warn us to get out of their way. The crowding, noise, stench and choking car fumes made such an impression that I wrote in my diary: ‘Hong Kong is a real city – Sydney is just a big country town’.
The following morning I awoke vomiting, which continued until a doctor intervened with an injection and other medicine. It was apparently caused by bad food, although we had been careful to eat only on board while in Hong Kong. It was a taste of trials yet to come. I had recovered by the time we reached Singapore. We had only one day in port but the shopping had been done in Hong Kong, so Singapore was strictly for sight-seeing. With the O’Connells, Stuart and I rented a Mercedes Benz car and driver for the morning. Seng, our driver, was very proud of economic progress in Singapore and was keen to show us the new high rise blocks of flats then being built, although we were more interested in seeing some traditional kampongs. We continued to Mt Farber, Mac Ritchie Reservoir and the Tiger Balm Gardens, then to a crocodile farm where the reptiles are grown for their skins. Change Alley and Raffles Place followed in the afternoon, but it was all rather rushed and tiring in the hot and humid conditions. After a hair raising ride back to the ship in an ancient Austin taxi we sailed at 6 pm, exhausted.
There were two days’ sailing to Colombo. In that time we had to pack any excess baggage to be sent on by ship to the United Kingdom and prepare for the real journey ahead. Overall I found life on board ship pretty dull and boring and was glad we were not going on beyond Ceylon. We celebrated Stuart’s birthday somewhat prematurely the night before landing in Colombo, beginning in the Dining Hall, later migrating to the Midship Bar, and then finally staggering on in the Stern Gallery.