Frank
McInerney
1975-1977,
Form 2 to Form 4
Email: Frank_mcinerney@outlook.com
Firstly, congratulations on an exceptionally well put together website, when is the book to be released.
My nostalgic memories would appear to be similar to everyone elses, but that does'nt make them any less special. The names and faces leapt out as I scrolled through the class photos and 1970's updates, the thirty years transpired just melted away, too many names to mention and sadly a few no longer with us.
Nothing else in my teens compares to the time spent in Penang, granted the best years of my life. This website is truely a founding place of shared memories and experiences of those heady carefree days, that seemed to last forever, it is truely like coming home again.
We were indeed a unique breed, we shared a commonality, privaleged to have been part of something very special. In hindsight, we couldn't wait to complete the tenure and get back to what we thought was important in OZ, only to realise we had gained so much and lost even more.
I remember painfully achieving my independance, from a shy loner type, coming to logger heads with parents and teachers over many an issue. It was interesting to see the punishment book listed in the later years, but I would have loved to have seen the records for '76 - 77' respectively. Because bet you're bottom dollar, yours truely would have been close to record holder. It did'nt help my situation when certain teachers were appraising the ole man at the Snow's Club of my short comings and misadventures.
I recollect the initial jabs (Malaria,Cholera,Smallpox)then the annual booster shots and those incessant obligatory good natured punches to the arm to remind you that they did'nt really hurt, but I'm sure they reused the same 6" rusty nail everytime.
The charter flight over with the other, then unknown families, being aerosolised and exiting the cabin to the humidity and sweet pungent rotting smell. Being herded to the terminal at Butterworth, billeted out to the allocated buses, the prolonged designated stops, families alighting at their appointed address's, the throng of well wishes, armahs and locals plugging their respective wares and credentials for subsequent employment. The issuance of the local ID (green card) then blending harmoniously into the RAAF community, residing at No 23, Road 2, Vale of Tempe.
Memories of the frequent festivals and holy days every other day, all those touristy sites about Penang, Pulau Tikas Markets, Tanjong Bunga, rice (both varieties - fresh and secondhand) drying by the roadside, Kampong cats/dogs (mongrels of animals), monnie drains, monsoon season, geckoes, feasting at the muckan carts on satays, rambutans, freshly squeezed/squashed sugar cane juice served in a plastic bag with an icecube, straw and tied off with a rubber band, salted plums and the local on his pushbike choirsly wailing "Donuts, Curry Puffs, Cream Hooorrrnnnssssss". Five cent ciggies or the pack of (5) you could purchase anywhere, but preferably from a little shop front located across the road from the Hostel (our home away from home)with the refunds collected from those elusive drink bottles.
Attending the Hostel to make those monthly phonecalls back home, via the exchange, spend a couple of hours attempting to get through to hurridly cram three minutes of conversation, and those much anticipated parcels from relo's back home with the obligatory vegemite, minties, etc.
Open air movies (Penang Swimming Club, Snows Club), the majong tournaments at alternating houses, request night every Friday on RAAF Radio (the request box at school always being full), teak/camphor wood furnishings, selangor pewter, Tang (orange drink powder), Lime juice cordial (in copious amounts). Holidays to Singapore, Cameron Highlands and Kuala Lumpar. The girls at school - who could ever forget them. Load batik/flour bag safari shirts, fireworks a plenty - shooting packets of tiny rockets from afar into neighbourhood block parties. Rotten egg gas in tiny glass ampules strategically placed under chair legs in the classroom or anywhere for that matter.
A pattern developed as my interests were honed toward anything sport related, music, girls from afar, music, sport, hanging with mates, girls, did I mention sport, dances, first encounter with the opposite sex, sea wall rendevous back of the hostel and many good mates who shared their music and friendship with me - Steve Miller Band, Yes, Alice Cooper, Kiss and then anything Heavy Rock/Metal).
Taking on Dalat and Uplands in sport and the usual teenage rivalry. Silk screening (designing our own singlets), night swimming at Penang Swimming Club & diving off the 10m platform & knocking myself out after connecting with the bottom. Ratan (volleyball with a small woven cane ball) using only you're feet or head, those Hash House Harriers running about the place. Trampoline volleyball beneath the covered assembly area of school. Rugby League and soccer battles between the many and varied teams, receiving my second of four major clavical breaks - tackling Broderick Adams head-on, if I recollect correctly (dropped me like a bag of spuds). Banana rolls from canteen, School Radio at lunch time, in the later year an excuse to sneak girlfriends in for some extra curricular canoodling and pashing.
Camping in the jungle past Batu Ferrengi and hiking to 'Monkey Beach' on the opposite side of the island. Pushbike conversions and eventually getting an all important Calton Cobra racing bike. Short school shorts, Warwick Capper had nothing on us blokes, we perfected "short" shorts and last but not least first true love.
The return to OZ was abysmal, a complete reversal of the previous couple of years, no friends, bad adjustment period, saw me complete Form 5 & 6 at Richmond and Katoomba High Schools respectively. The nomadic RAAF lifestyle carried over into my adult life my current job position of five years being the longest period rooted to one spot. I avoided following in the preverbial 'ole mans footsteps and decidely brainstormed the idea of becoming a plod (NSW Copper) fully operational from 1979 - 1999 performing traffic and accident investigation duties, eventually burning out. I quit the coppers and am now pushing computors for Traffic Infrastructure in Sydney, getting paid more and putting up with a whole lot less. I eventually married and ahve three wonderful kids who are now the centre of my existance.
Would love to hear from all who may remember, stay well and above all, happy and cherish those memories.