Peter Bek
1961 and 1962
Email: peter.bek@derm.qld.gov.au
1961 and 1962, Forms 2 and 3
I arrived in Penang in January 1961 as a 13 year old with my family - father Larry, mother Noela and siblings Paul, Bronwyn and Mark - after a 12 day sea voyage from Melbourne on the Italian Flotta Lauro liner “Sydneyâ€.
The reason for the move was that my father had been posted to the radar unit at RAAF Base Butterworth. Australia had taken over the base from Britain in 1958 when Britain was reducing its presence in its former Southeast Asian colonies. Australia’s involvement served several purposes – to assist Malaya after it gained independence from Britain in 1957, to help finalise Britain’s and Malaya’s Communist Emergency campaigns of the 1950s and as a bulwark against Indonesia’s Confrontation campaign of the 1960s.
We were told that Penang was the Pearl of the Orient and it certainly lived up to that description. It also seems to have done so for the folk who have posted updates on this marvellous website.
On arriving in Penang we stayed at Georgetown’s Eastern & Orient (E&O) Hotel, a magnificent relic of the British Empire. It had a domed ceiling in the lounge sitting area which allowed you to hear even a whispered conversation from the other side of the room. Perfect for eaves-dropping on your competitors in the days of the spice and rubber trades of the East Indian Company. The hotel’s setting on the water’s edge opposite coastal trading vessels at anchor and surrounded by lighters was out of a movie scene.
The Chinese and Indian shops in the ancient streets and buildings of Georgetown were a delight to the senses. I remember Indian goldsmith shops with white-clad men sitting cross-legged on floors in dark interiors hammering out gold filigree jewellery over small charcoal furnaces.
My father travelled each day on the Penang ferry across the straits to the air force base. My mother enjoyed the servanted lifestyle she shared with her many RAAF women friends. I and Paul and Bronwyn attended the RAAF school first located in three neighbouring colonial mansions (one the former governor’s residence) in Georgetown. These old and atmospheric buildings were set in manicured grounds and had grand verandas and entrances and staircases to upper levels. The various rooms simply became our classrooms looking out under broad eaves to the lawns and gardens below. Our second school was the new but sterile facilities at Hillside near Tanjong Bungah. Our younger brother Mark was a toddler at the time and much loved by our young amah Ahsee Ong and our cook Bin Enge Minh. Our gardener was a mysterious and elusive Tamil Indian who seemed to vanish before your eyes.
We lived in Tanjong Tokong and our second house had a magnificent view over the kampong and across the straits towards Butterworth. I used to sit on the balcony with binoculars watching the Sabres, Canberras, Dakotas and the odd Valetta taking off and landing on the runway behind the fringe of coconut trees along the beach. The Sabres were state-of-the-art fast jets and were great to watch flying.
We visited the Base at Butterworth only a few times – for things like air shows, swimming in the Base pool and for Christmas events when Santa Claus would arrive by helicopter. Air shows would finish with a handicap air race between the different types of aircraft – fast and slow. The race was staged so that all machines crossed the finish line together.
On occasions navy warships visited and dropped anchor in the straits. I remember going on board the British heavy cruiser HMS Belfast and the Australian missile frigate HMAS Parramatta and being impressed by the seriously war-like nature of these vessels.
Paul and I rode our bikes everywhere exploring the local kampongs and fishing villages. Each afternoon after school I rode to the superb Penang Swimming Club to train for the next swimming and diving carnival. One time I raced at the Chinese Swimming Club.
I never thought of the local people as poor or disadvantaged, even the kampong people. Everyone seemed busy and engaged and happy. Indian and Chinese music drifted out from radios in the attap houses and little kids would call out “hello John†as you went by.
It is difficult to encapsulate in just a few words the many interesting and exotic things about Penang back then. The Indian, Chinese and Muslim religious and cultural festivals, the Muslim call to prayer over loud speakers, beggars at the bus terminal in Georgetown, the small windowless buses, exotic aromas and smells (spices, fruits, drying fish, incense, open drains), the Friday night scout meetings (15th Georgetown North) at the Hostel and the movie afterwards, scout camping in the botanic gardens and at the jamborettes at Batu Ferringhi, unusual fruits (mangosteens, rambutans, star fruit and durians), mukan and ice ball carts, trishaws, the NAAFI, kite flying, kampongs and fishing boats, the tropical sea, the prehistoric looking horseshoe or king crabs that crawled out of the sea at night, Chinese and Indian cemeteries, pillboxes from WWII, ancient tree-covered ruins in the jungle foothills, the luxury cars our parents brought back to Australia.
But I fear Penang has changed very much since those days. Housing estates, flats and high rise apartment buildings have sprung up in many places. In 1962, Batu Ferringhi was a beautiful empty beach with coconut trees. Now it is lined with high rise resort hotels.
Arriving back in dreary Melbourne after such a colourful tropical experience was hard to take. Since then I have lived in many places (RAAF-induced wandering I’m sure) and now live on Moreton Bay and work for a Queensland Government department in Brisbane. I am considering retiring within the next 2 or 3 years.
I have recognised 3 or 4 names in the Student Update list on the website - Melanie Tongue, Craig Wilson, Michael Holt, Geoff McGuiness. I remember Geoff's radio show Teenagers Half Hour. Hello to all those people.
And all the best to all you kids of 1961-62.