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ashore, there being insufficient tender space for anyone but passengers; in this
enticing-looking place nobody was likely to voluntarily remain aboard if given
the choice! So I sauntered on deck to enjoy a book, the winter being cool in
Sydney, but nicely temperate in our new latitude.

The constant issue bedevilling passenger ships arose from the fact that they
had to have engines, and that meant that they could make a great deal of smoke if
fuel and air were not mixed in precisely the right proportions. In order to prevent
this occasional but unwanted shower of soot over the deck and the passengers,
Canberra had its funnels at the stern of the ship, a solution indeed, but one giving
rise to its own problems. Oriana had another smoke-dispersal technique, this
being large indentations in the superstructure immediately abaft the bridge that
forced the air flowing past the ship into the hollow and upwards, this draft forcing
the smoke from the funnel (the aft funnel – the ‘flower pot’ - was a dummy)
high into the air and away from the decks. This bonus deck space became a
sort of reserved officers’ relaxation deck, and on this occasion, there being few
passengers aboard, most of the FAPs and junior officers assembled for a touch of
camaraderie. In this number was Cherry, who unsurprisingly displayed extremely
well, and Judith Smythe, accompanied by another and rather colourless FAP
who seemed constantly to be by her side, Judith evidencing no interest in any of
the officers at all. I was surprised to see that the pleasant but rather standoffish
Judith possessed a body that surpassed all my understanding, perfectly sculpted
and perfectly tanned. To my eternal discredit, my early, and indeed continuing,
thought was, what a waste! I certainly could not have made any move (rank had
a role to fulfil even in an enclosed society like this) but nevertheless, given my
earlier Himalaya observations, it did seem a shame. I read barely a paragraph.

The evening was not so great either. There was no question that Australia is a
largely outdoors sort of country, and this shows in the athleticism of Australians
generally, men and women alike – witness the disproportionate number of sports
in which they lead the world. However, in a restricted environment, even on a large
ship as was Oriana, their differing mores became very apparent to us supposed
‘gentlemen’. All the girls, and there were a great many of them, looked superb, but
acted just as their male counterparts did. That is to say, they drank just as much
beer, swore just as roundly, would arm-wrestle all comers, and despised you if
you happened to open a door for one of them. Ultimately, we cadets began to feel
that our personae had become effete, and possibly gay, in their collective eyes.
And the boys seemed quite keen on showing their manliness by, for example,
smashing cans of Foster’s against their foreheads, an endeavour for which I could
see no use apart from for those entertaining careers as gladiators. But I found that
there was a saving grace; her name was Margaret.

This young lady, exceptionally pretty (a description that I dislike, but it
carries the right connotations) I found alone by the dance-floor. She hailed from

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