The Wilson family arriving in Narrabeen - 1928

 PATRICIA JOAN ROMERIL (Nee WILSON)

1924-2013

I attended a SAG Hang Out last week.  The subject was "Book Stories" and a suggestion was to catalogue the books in your library.  Whilst revisiting my library I rediscovered two books that Mum had contributed to.  These stories of hers need to be shared (not held in my book shelf).  I was raised with these stories, and I know that her grandchildren and great grandchildren (and future descendants) will gain more of an insight into her life.  And so ..... In her own words!!

This book was published in 1993 to celebrate Warringah Shire's 1990 Heritage Week.

"Barefoot but Healthy" by Patricia J Romeril

The ancient furniture van shuddered to the stop at the old wooden bridge which spanned the beautiful clear water of the Narrabeen Lakes.  Children peered from every hold amongst the furniture, staring in amazement at the wide expanse of the lake.  Mum and Dad smiled as they continued down the rough gravel road to the thick bush that nestled at the foot of the hill.

It was 1928 and we were ready to set up house on virgin land Dad had bought from Arthur Rickard.  It was the beginning of an exciting pioneer life.  With great anticipation we set about building our temporary home.  Dad was a builder and with children whose ages ranged from one to eleven he had plenty of labourers.  

John James Charles WILSON and Catherine Teresa BAKER with their children on the block of land in Narrabeen in 1928

He erected a large tent and Mum divided it into rooms with white-washed hessian bags.  Lean-tos for the kitchen and bathroom were built from sheets of iron supplied by our neighbour, Mr McPherson.  Over all this we grew passionfruit vines and chokos.  Insects were discouraged by large pots of mint and parsley and other herbs around the entrances.  In the summer pots of smouldering manure confused the mosquitoes. 

Dad and boys cleared the land for vegetables and flowers.  Through the bush one day came Daddy Moore with a chook in one hand and a rooster crowing in the other.  'Here,' he said, 'Give your kids eggs from these'.  The pair went squawking and flapping into the bush.  These were the nucleus of many a meal to come.  Mum looked after the poultry and treated them like royalty.  They all had names and, when an egg was laid, we wrote the chook's name on it and the date.  Woe betide us if we forgot and she didn't know which egg belonged to which chook.

It didn't worry us that the world was in depression.  Barefoot, but healthy, we had the lake, sea, creeks and surrounding bush for our adventures.  Dad dug two deep wells, so cool, and fresh water was always available.  We acquired a cow, a calf and a horse, Tommy, by the barter system.  To procure a cart for Tommy, Dad build a garage for a neighbour.  

Every morning as the sun crept over the horizon Dad took off down the bumpy road in the cart laden with vegetables and flowers.  In no time he became quite famous for his vegetables, sweet peas and carnations.  Mrs Playfair, who lived at Elanora, bought all her flowers from us.  Every Friday she would give us small white bags of lollies, it was a treat indeed.  As the boys grew they supplemented income by caddying at the old Elanora Golf Links.

My brother Bernard was born at a cottage hospital at Collaroy and , being premature, the first few weeks of his life were spent snug between heated house bricks

Bernard Charles WILSON 1930-2003

Mum and Dad helped form a swimming club at the lake, corner of Wimbledon Avenue and Pittwater Road.  Many a child learned to swim there and quite a few of us were good enough to participate in the New South Wales championships.  One year when I contested the breastroke one of my opponents was Margaret Whitlam - she won!

Our entertainment was simple but rewarding.  Our parents were accomplished musicians, so many an event was spent around the piano.

On the walk to Narrabeen School we paddled through swamp in Windsor Parade, ran through acres of wild mushrooms, then waded along the lake to school.  We swam daily either in the lake or the ocean.  We knew where every deep hole or sandbank was.  Weekends we watched the sixteen footers racing, then raced our own home-made boats.  During the war all the craft over 1.82 metres were confiscated.

We attended church in a small wooden hall at St Joseph's, but in the summer months we walked to Collaroy to a larger place in Alexander Street.  Saturday evening the whole family would walk to the Welfare Hall in Garden Street to frolic to Matty Greenfield's band.  Every year we had a fancy-dress ball and parents' imagination ran riot.  One year after dressing his nine children, Dad ran out of ideas.  So he put a white sheet around his shoulders and wore a placard saying "Thank God I'm Pure".  He won!

Two events in 1939 affected our lives tremendously.  Our horizons were widened with the coming of the double-decker buses, and dark clouds gathered over Europe threatened our peaceful life.  Soon all the young boys were leaving school, falsifying their ages and enlisting in the forces.  Fathers foot-polished their greying hair to join their sons in another war, but for the first time in twenty years they were receiving regular wages.

In 1880 travellers up Sheep Station Hill had helped push their carts.  Now, sixty years later, we pushed our friends' old cars on the way to the dances at Mona Vale where we girls fought over the few male partners left, or danced with each other.

We had left our childhood behind.  

NOTE:  Since publishing this post, my son alerted me to a voice recording of my mother on the "Northern Beaches Library Service-History Hub". It was recorded in 2000. How amazing!!  How come I didn't know about this?  Since we have accessed the recording, many family members have listened to it and it has given them so much pleasure.  You can listen to the recording here