On the Good Ship Sibaijak
October - November 1954
Migration from the Netherlands to Sydney, Australia with my parents Victor and Johanna and my brother Peter Varman
PREFACE
I was four years old when we left Rotterdam on the Sibaijak, so the following account is really a collection of impressions of a voyage from the perspective of a four year old boy. I have written this account without verifying anything to reduce the chance of "adopting memories", though no doubt the accounts of others may spark off other long hidden memories. After this I intend to ask others what their memories were. I wrote another account about 15 years ago and it will be interesting to see what the differences might be and whether I've got incipient Altzeimers or not......
When my parents and brother returned from Borneo in 1949, after the horrors of being POW survivors, they settled back in The Hague and soon after I was born. We later shifted to Haarlem. Our last home was at Haarlem and it was from there that we packed our goods for our removal to Australia. I remember nothing about the packing but have vague memories of standing on the railway platform at Haarlem and of what seemed to be a long trip to Rotterdam. I was interested in trains then so was hugely impressed by the way the railway tracks began to branch off into scores of tracks at Rotterdam, seeing some trains and carriages stationary, others moving.
At the time we left my father was 40, my mother 38, Peter was 13, I was 4, nearly 5. My father could speak some English because of his experiences in the East Indies. I think that parents and Peter also had some English lessons before we left, at least they had some books on the English language. I could only speak Dutch then. Oom Jelle Kook and Tante Bep Kook-van Lunteren were both 35, Jan was 10, Siny 9, Carel 4 and Susje was 2.
THE VOYAGE
My memory of the docks at Rotterdam are very vague. I do remember the massive gangway onto the ship - which I later compared to the moving, seemingly flimsy ones used for the Manly ferries. I don't even remember who, if anyone, saw us off at Rotterdam. We didn't know a soul on the ship at first. There is a memory of looking at the crowd below and everyone waving as the ship began to leave.
I called the ship something like "the S'by-uk" which is pretty close to the proper pronunciation.
The Sibaijak, seemed big and high out of the water to me. I was fascinated by the big funnel with the smoke coming out and I may have asked why it didn't burn, why did it have to be so big and so on. Later, when I compared the funnels to other ships, I wished the Sibaijak had more big funnels. I was fascinated by the ventilation horns on the decks - each one was an object of interest but I could never get a satisfactory answer as to their purpose then. They were in the shape of my grandfather's smoking pipes but I failed to see any smoke come out. The ship's windows were round but it was a source of frustration that they were too high up to look out of. I was lifted up a few times to get a look but I was usually told that there was 'nothing' to see.
I suppose this largely an account of what I was and was not permitted to do. At first I could stay with my parents or brother during the day but I was horrified when I was told that I'd have to go to kleuterschool (kindergarten) - that was bad enough back 'in Holland'. That kindergarten had nothing to interest me - it was just non-stop boredom. I think father promised to visit all the time but... you know. When anyone came I'd just beg to be let out. It was like being in jail or like an animal kept in a cage. It might be partly dream but I remember it as a fenced-off enclosure just below deck in a sort of disused area - kids about and nothing to do - that was not for me.
On day after a while at 'kleuterschool' I was at the iron fence, Siny Kook walked past, I think with Carel, her younger brother. I told her I hated the school. She could see no reason why I should remain there. I was delighted. I told her that my father and mother said that I HAD to be there. She easily reassured me that I should follow them, after all - were they there at the school? I was so grateful and I just had to duck the railings of the fence. Off we went up some narrow iron stairs and saw I some ventilation horns I'd not seen before. We were in a 'no go' area and probably asked why we were not at school. Siny got us out of that one. To this day I am grateful to Siny for rescuing me. We got sprung some time later and there was some fuss but I think my father took my part and there was some good that came out of the Great Escape. Peter was more independent being much older but probably had to attend school for part of the day at least.
The central highlight for me was when parents made good friends with the family Kook (originally Kok). Our surname was Vermin at the time (later changed to Varman). I loved this family and soon came to call them by familial names, Tante Bep (Elisabeth), Oom Jelle and regarded the children Jan (later John), Siny, Carel (later Charles or Charlie) and Sus or Susje (Gijske, or in English, Elisabeth). Elisabeth was still very young then, so didn't get to take part in much of the action. I became good friends with Carel and Peter became best friends with Jan. I always regarded Siny as my 'big sis' because she was just like the best big sister ever. The affection I had for her in later years never diminished, so she must have been a real hero for me then, though I have forgotten nearly all the details. Carel was the first real friend I had, he was more daring than I was, so we also had some good adventures. I was still firmly under my parents' thumbs then, being the only little one in the family - but Oom Jelle and Tante Bep had four children to keep an eye on - so they had a little more freedom.
I just loved Tante Bep and still do. She always paid me lots of smiling attention and had a lovely way of speaking. Oom Jelle seemed a bit more reserved - he was well over the six feet tall mark. He and father got on really well, as did my mother and Tante Bep (they all remained friends for life). Tante Bep used to be concerned about my health because of a cough I had when I slept. I don't remember the cough but I do remember having repeated disturbing dreams, the some of them ended with a view of a broad flat horizon with an orange-yellow light a bit like a sunset but with a grainy look and feel. How do you describe a grainy feeling? but that is what it was ......... with a sort of buzzing sound. It seemed I was part of it. I can recall the feeling now. I suspect it was a high fever. My first view of Western Australia, at early morning, was like the view in the dream, I noticed, but had nice strong red and black contrasts and I could see the outlines of church steeples and buildings.
I barely remember any personalities apart from the family Kook and my own family. I remember a magician on a small stage and us children seated on the floor. I think Carel volunteered or was chosen to lift the lid off a round tin which had nothing in it but magically, it was then full of little pies or cakes - that really caught my imagination. Peter knew some of the techniques used by the magician - he was interested in that sort of thing. Peter hung around with Jan and was not easy to track down it seems, anyway, I didn't have to rely on Peter for company as I had Carel and sometimes Siny as friends.
Children weren't permitted in the lounge/bar area, where there were large comfortable lounge seats. I had sat there previously with my parents but had to keep a low profile. I came in a few times on my own and remember speaking to a very friendly older woman but I rarely returned after being told by a waiter that I was trespassing. Another 'verboden' place. I was allowed in once toward the end of the voyage during very bad weather and rough seas. Peter wasn't far off but I remember him saying something about not pushing with your feet against the floor whilst seated when the ship rocked from side to side. I couldn't resist - next thing I knew the lounge chair took off and flew across the room against an 'elderly' lady seated in a similar chair. Other chairs started moving too so I didn't get into too much trouble, to my surprise. The waiter was very distressed.
I was bored for much of the time because there were so many restrictions on children my age and plus all my things, apart from a bear, were in storage. Our goods took many, many months to arrive after we landed in Australia. I remember looking overboard and imagining seeing sand just under the waves. I would ask if we were near land and I was evidently humoured 'Yes, we are close now' but not long after Peter told me we were nowhere near land. I didn't believe him but he was right. Boyo.
There were several highlights along the way. There was big talk just before we reached Eden. Peter may have been going on about pirates to me. I remember the canal at Eden - flat sandy land on either side of the ship and still water. Passengers were warned not to trade with Arabs(?) coming alongside the ship in little boats to sell souvenirs. They had poles to keep them from going against the sides of the ship. I thought they were trying to push the ship. The pirates didn't look too dangerous to me but everything Peter said was confirmed when one of the stewards, dressed in white, leaned over and warning the dark skinned men to stop at once and be gone - said in English with a strong Dutch accent. I have wondered how I could understand them because I didn't know any English then (to my knowledge) but I recall the awkward words and accent. They did go.
We must have stopped at Eden because parents had some sort of business to do on shore. I remember being in a train or bus with strangely dressed people on board - white robes everywhere. We eventually got to a sort of corner building and father had to sort something out - it might have been a bank. I have wondered if this last memory was a fiction of some dream but the memory dates to that time and we still have a leather pouffe which father could only have purchased at one of the markets there.
I have little memory of our cabin but remember visiting the Kook's neat cabin. Peter and I had a double bunk - he was lucky to have the top one, it seemed really high to me then. Parents had a double bed. I don't remember much about clothes - I think they had a sort of weather-proof outfit for me to wear, with wide elastic at the wrists and ankles, especially for the voyage out.
I can't remember much about the food but the tea had a weird dull paper taste - it was served in paper cups. I'd still recognize the smell and taste if I came across it today. Anyway, despite the quality of the tea, afternoon (?) tea was something to look forward to. I was impatient for the hour to arrive. There were also plainish biscuits to go with the tea. I think we had to line up to get the tea. Tea was also in the lounge area but you had to be an adult to go there.
I do remember the call for dinner. I think it might have been an Indian man that walked around the corridors playing a short tune on a small xylophone - always the same tune. There might have been different tunes for different calls.
There were religious services on board. I think I remember some argument about going to church. The service was nothing like I remember at the cathedral in Haarlem. There were not enough chairs around a sort of stage, probably in an entertainment area. I couldn't see anything because of the adults standing - we were always late for church. The Kooks were Protestant. It was always thought remarkable that my father and Oom Jelle could become such good friends because Oom Jelle would have nothing to do with Catholics before then. I heard later that father sometimes irritated Oom Jelle with his "slave-boss" (as Oom Jelle said) attitudes acquired from having spent too many years in the East Indies.
I have a vague memory of visiting the doctor and the inevitable cold spoon thrust down to the back of my tongue and pressed down, "Say Ahhhhh" and me gaging. The nurses were really lovely though.
Another highlight was the visit of King Neptunus. Peter spoke enthusiastically about the horrors of when King Neptunus boarded ships at the crossing of the Equator. I had a pretty good idea of what he looked like from one of my children's books - a half naked barbarian covered with seaweed, holding a pitchfork with arrow ended prongs. Peter would tell of people being stripped and then dipped in barrels of tar and covered with feathers but if you were lucky you would just be stripped and plunged into the water of the pool or be thrown overboard. I asked parents if that was true, they seem to have said no.
Sometime later it became common knowledge that King Neptunus would board the ship and I both dreaded and looked forward to the day. Peter was right again and he revelled in the event to come. I thought of ways to avoid getting tarred and feathered. The dreaded day came as we approached the Equator and Neptunus arrived on the ship with great ceremony. I kept out of the action, whether I liked it or not. No-one was dipped in tar but willing and half-willing people were dunked in the pool - buckets of water thrown about. I just remember a rabble of people in swimming costumes being dunked, some covered in muck - black paint? Streamers all about. I was relieved after that. Peter was always the source of the best information - he told us of what happened to whom afterwards.
That's about all I can remember specifically. What stays with me is the sight of the endless seas, the froth trail behind the ship, the patterns of the wash along the side of the ship and the adventures with the Kook family.
I was so glad to arrive on Australian soil at last but to my disappointment it was just Western Australia and so a lot more sailing to do. I can still see the silhouette of the Fremantle against the rising sun. I remember being impressed with the buildings, just like the 'wild west'. I also got distressed when I saw a very well dressed Negro man because I thought he must be nearly dead because he was black - Zwarte Piet did not prepare me for this sight.
I have a vague recollection of the long docks or buildings at Melbourne and then the beauty of Sydney Harbour and the famous Sydney Harbour Bridge, as we sailed in. What happened next is another story.
Robert V J P Varman
10th December 1998
(From a manuscript I wrote in November 1998)