Trisha Garnaut's Tribute to our Dad Laurie Garnaut

Dear Mum and Dad, this is a small tribute from your youngest daughter, Patricia, always known to everyone as Trisha

Lets start at the beginning as I remember my life with Mum and Dad:-

As few of you know, Mum and Dad held Sunday Mass at our family home on Mulgrave Road, Earlville.  I do not remember much about Mum and Dad’s first family home, but I do remember the little landing at the top on our back stairs.  Dad had a ships bell hanging up high, and I remember that he regularly rang really loudly.  About ten years ago, I asked Mum and Dad why they rang the bell.  Dad couldn’t believe that I remembered it, because he had forgotten all about it. Dad told me he had a big guardian angel above the ship’s bell, and he rang it to alert our neighbours and the Earlville parish of the Sunday morning mass.  For many years, Mum and Dad housed the parish Sunday Mass.

I was about three or four when Mum and Dad purchased our home at 3 Aplin Street in the main part of Cairns.  Dad seemed to have a real fixation about bells, whistles and horns, and I will tell you about this side of our life. 

Dad lived the Navy lifestyle all his life, and he always had a passion about our Guardian Angels.   We all lived the Navy way whilst living with Mum and Dad.  I have copied Dad in a lot of his ways and mannerisms with my three sons Simon, Cameron, Timothy.  On reading and reminiscing with his biographies again in recent days, and especially about his adventures on his ship “The Platypus”, I understood his affection for Guardian Angels.

No one knows how horrible it was to be a baby-boomer of a World War 2 veteran.  It is a truly, horrible subornative way to live.  I survived.  We went to the Heads.  We talked in 24-hour time and so many bells.  You have no idea, what it was like to be continually beckoned to be somewhere to the sound of bells, Dad’s whistle through his teeth, and Morse coded jargon.  Dad was able to do a piercing whistle through his teeth, one that unfortunately he taught my son Cameron.   When something went wrong, or you got hurt, all Dad would say was -  “Offer it up!”

Every morning, from a very early age, I remember awaking to the sound of Dad reciting this same poetry.  It was our alarm clock.

Wake up soldier
Daylight’s come
Light your fuse
And fire your gun

Pengana Motel, located on the Corner of Aplin Street, and 93 Esplanade, Cairns, approximately 90 metres south of the Cairns R.S.L.

As more of you would know, I am one of six children.  Dad always told everyone that he had the hat trick twice - three girls, then three boys.  Dad was in his glory when he started one of the first motels in Cairns, the Pengana Motel, and he had reason to install another bell, but unfortunately this time an electric bell, not to forget he hooked up an outside extension bell for the telephone.  We all learnt our call sign one to six bells.  It was so loud.  It was so embarrassing, but I was not game not to heel.  I still jump when I hear three long or short bells. 

Sometimes, I don’t think that Dad knew my name.  Luckily Mum called me by name. I was rarely called by my name by Dad.  Upon reflection, I know how much I hated it, but I did learn to heel, front and centre.  From an early age I learnt that a spade was a spade and what was right and what was wrong.

My older sisters, Helen was one long ring, Joan two short rings and I was the one with two call signs.  Good call was three short rings, trouble brewing three long rings, but the Morse code whistles and sounds he did anywhere and everywhere. My younger brothers, Tom, Richard and Bill's rings were ridiculous, four, five and six rings.

Dad would whistle or Morse code me  “S” … Shu! Shu! Shu!    

I knew when I was in strife; it was  “O” ---  Oi!  Oi! Oi!

As many of you also know, our whole family were mad keen sailors in our mono sailboats, from sabots, herons, gwen 12’s and 16’ skiffs.  Somehow, Dad, managed to find his way to be the Chief Starter at the Cairns Sailing Club, and that meant the Starter Horn …. all we needed, Dad and another bell.  This is where we all learnt a little bit about fairness and justice, flying the white protest flag, when failing to act fairly when someone called starboard.  What fun and games that was – a family of six in the same sailing club and different boats – and access to a protest meeting and the rulebook!  I will always remember my little brother Tom calling starboard in a two-man sabot, on the old dredge “Trinity Bay” and yes, she had to cut her engines, give Tom right of way, for fear of swallowing him, not for fear of a sailing club protest.

Mum and Dad were so proud of me when I was appointed and gazetted the first Australian Water Police Woman in 1974. My Queensland Water Police photo always sat side-by-side Dad’s Navy Photo.

In the 1970’s Dad enjoyed many an ex-naval personnel Police send-offs under the Bradfield Highway (Story Bridge) at the Brisbane Water Police Station and also at the H.M.A.S. Moreton Senior Sailors mess at New Farm. Dad exchanged so many fascinating stories with many of the ex-Navy Queensland Water Police and enjoyed many trips on the Police Vessels, Vedette III, C.J. Carroll, Mereki and the N.W. Bauer.

Photos: Capturing the Water Police Station
and the fleet under the Bradfield Highway
on Town Reach/Petrie Bight in 1974

I promised Dad I would ensure that his writings, “Platypus and her deadly chicks” about his adventures in Darwin and at sea on the H.M.A.S. Platypus, would live on forever.  I convinced Dad to gift his adventures on the H.M.A.S. Platypus, and secure them in Canberra at the War Memorial before someone seized his information.  Dad had not been to the War Memorial, but I had not long before taken my three sons, Cameron, Simon and Timothy there, when on a Skiing trip to Perisher Valley.

Photo: Laurie Garnaut, Trisha Garnaut and grandsons Simon, Cameron and Timothy, at the Dawn Parade on Enoggera Terrace, Paddington on Anzac Day 1995.

I was fascinated at similar writings that were on display.  Dad had sent so many copies to so many people, naval personal and retired Water Police.  Dad secured his writings.

I am so proud of Dad, and his contribution, he has made in the World War II to secure Australia as a safe place for his children and his grandchildren.  Dad’s writings are truly an inspiration to me.  I love reading about his early days in South Australia with his siblings, sailing around the Gulf St Vincent and the Port River.  Thanks to my first cousin in South Australia, who asked Dad to write his "Autobiography of Gulf St Vincent South Australia & the Port River" if you hadn’t he may have never put his fingers to a typewriter. I hope, by posting them on my brother Richard’s tribute to Dad, his writings may just inspire others who stumble on this site, to write about the early days of our Australian way of life especially with names, dates and photos.

It is truly a remarkable life that my Mum and Dad endured at times during World War II, but ultimately they enjoyed a truly exciting era of Australian life. I am so proud of them.

Typical of our Dad, even in death he still was able to make us heel.  Acting upon instructions from Dad, at 11.45am on 8 February 2007, the time that Dad died, my younger brother Bill, fulfilled Dad's last special request; and that was to immediately make this notation in the R.S.L. Farnorah Residents' Sign-in/Sign-out Register:   

GONE HOME, JOBS DONE, WON'T BE BACK!

I love you Mum and Dad. I miss you both so much. I am so privileged to be your daughter ……… Trisha

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Laurie & Agnes Garnaut
Memorial Prayer CD Collection