The concert finished with us all standing to attention and bellowing out “God save the Queen”. I knew all the words, even the second verse, cos I was in the choir, and we led the school at Monday morning’s assembly. But today the Anthem’s conclusion was taken as a ‘starting pistol’. As soon as that last, long, drawn-out “…Queeeeen” concluded, we were off!
We kids moved collectively and immediately to our various bag-racks. From there, onto the bike shed, and on our trusty Malvern Stars, rushed the school gate. Six weeks of glorious sunny fun ahead!
I raced my big brother the two kilometres through the foreshore tracks from school to home. As always, he won. But that wasn’t going to dampen my mood. Mum had a plate of pikelets, her fantastic strawberry jam and clotted cream on the table as we noisily burst into the kitchen.
Ten days until Christmas, six until our Banksia Holiday Park would start to fill with campers. Most of the guests had rebooked their site for this year before they left last Christmas. I spent a while contemplating the gang’s reunion – a whole year since we had seen each other – Ian, Bruce, Spiro, Andie, Johno and Suzie – yer I know, she was a girl, but she could climb trees as good as us!
I had already revisited our clubhouse, out the back of the Park, hidden in the dense Ti Tree scrub. I discovered, and chucked out the couple of possum’s nests built over the winter. I came across an old blanket in our garage, and I spread it over the dirt floor – it really tarted up the place. I’m sure Mum wouldn’t mind me borrowing the cups and plates. She never uses them, always just sitting in the glass cupboard, and they were now stacked in the Marchant’s lemonade crate I found at the tip! This was going to be the best school holiday ever!
There were a couple of cold, rainy days, but plenty of ferociously hot ones. I spent hours at the beach after school and on weekends, working on my tan. My sister introduced me to a coconut and olive oil tanning elixir. Several people asked about my salady smell.
I still got sunburnt a few times, usually after I forgot to reapply the ‘dressing’ after swimming! I regularly lost several layers of skin over the summer. Mum said I was like a snake, throwing off my old skin. It was the price you paid to present a grown-up, tanned bod to the assembled gang, and we all sported flaky arms, legs or backs over the summer!
Bruce’s family was the first to arrive, and we climbed to the top of the giant pine tree to eat our first Cream-Between of the summer. Ian and Suzie arrived the following day, with Andie and Johno the next. Mum made me a plate of sandwiches and provided a whole bottle of lemonade for our inaugural 1958/59 Sharks’ Club luncheon!
Dad told me that Spiro’s Mum had rung last week and cancelled their booking. He said something about a strike at the Port Melbourne docks, where his dad worked as a wharfie. He had been arrested; Dad said he was in Pentridge! Oh well, I suppose it would mean more lollies for each of the Gang!
Christmas Day finally arrived. Presents, and an enforced day of family togetherness, overeating and the Oldies “… singing a few of their favourite songs…” after preliminary beers, wine and the alcohol-fuelled trifle was finished.
I scored quite well in my pillow slip. There was a new set of coloured pencils, a colouring-in book, a ruler, a Phantom comic, a packet of Smarties, a Polly Waffle, and a bag of lollies. There were two Gob-smackers, eight liquorice blocks, eight raspberry jubes, four Sherbies and a Redskin.
Under the tree was a Meccano set from Mum and Dad. It was a kit to make a huge crane. I already had a windmill and a truck, and the crane would be great to load the truck! There were also two Matchbox cars, a blue one and a green one. Grandpa gave me his old wristwatch. The glass was a bit scratched, but he showed me how to use the little wheel at the side to wind it up and to change the time. I got four hankies and two pairs of socks from Nanna, and three dorky books from my brother and sisters.
The Gang met first thing the next morning. I organised a treasure hunt from the clubhouse. I had raided my sister’s old collection of bangles and stuff; they sparkled wonderfully, and I hid the glitter in grass tufts and in the forks of the trees. I even chucked one down a rabbit burrow.
That last spot was a bit of a disaster, as just after I threw the bangle in, an angry, but small Tiger snake slithered out, indignant at my intrusion. I found a bit of stick, banged it on the head and chucked it away!
Cricket was always something associated with summer holidays. The Poms were here, in Melbourne. Grandpa and Dad used to set up the radiogram outside on the verandah; heaven help any loud interruptions from us kids. Dinner usually had Dad reliving the day’s highlights. I know we thrashed the blighters!
The Caravan Park had heaps of kids’ activities. The campers had formed an Activities Committee to organise events, including regular, free ice cream handouts! There were dress-up parades, beauty contests, evening concerts, movie nights, sandcastle building and treasure hunts down on the beach. The days just morphed into each other – hot, dry and never-ending.
There was the day Suzie and I were together at the top of the pine tree. We had finished our ice creams, and she suddenly suggested a kissing competition. I used my new watch: we kissed for 85 seconds, without a break! There were other attempts over the weeks, but we never beat that time, not even on New Year’s Eve! She had this funny, strawberry taste. I liked it!
But holidays finish. Mum took me up to Frankston on the bus to buy new Clarks, shorts and shirts. I whinged about the trip and achieved a plate of chips and a lime malted milk, with extra ice cream! A week later, I started Grade Five, a new teacher, but the same old same old.
I secretly admitted that the Sharks gang were getting a bit boring! I actually felt relieved to be back in the familiar, ordered world: predictable reading, composition, sums and science, music broadcasts, even the great adventures of the Argonauts Club. There were well-established gangs at lunchtimes, year-long friendships, after-school adventures, and occasional excursions.
As a nine-year-old, life was good!