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TRANQUIL
DAYS AT SOMERS
I was a permanent navy man. I got to know that Somers existed
when I first joined the navy in 1937 at the age of 17. It was
routine for us new enlistees, as we were known, that every morning
at 6am our instructor would rouse us from our hammocks and run with
us to Somers and back, before we did the cleaning of our dormitory
before breakfast. Those blocks of dorms are still there. I don’t
know what they are used for because the recruits of today have a
cabin, a bed and also heating, which was not considered necessary
in 1937.
I didn’t come back to Flinders Naval Depot, as it was known,
until 1948. The sailors called it “the Depot”. During six years of
war I served in the navy all over the world, wherever the navy
decided to send me. In 1945 at the end of the war I married my
girlfriend, who lived in Sydney, but had to wait two more years
before we could live together because I was sent to the Mine
Sweeping Flotilla that swept up all the mines we had laid around
the coast at the beginning of the war.
In 1949 I was drafted to F.N.D. I was not very happy because I
expected to go to the Depot at Rushcutters bay in Sydney, but it
did not make much difference. My wife was living with her parents,
so we packed her bags and away we went to Flinders Naval Depot. We
lived with a friend whilst we found a house to rent. In those days
the navy provided no housing and you had to find your own.
After looking around at Crib Point and Stony Point we walked
over to Somers and found just what we were looking for. It was a
small house on the beach in the Somers Creek area. We loved it
despite the fact it was a very pioneer way of living. Our water
supply was a rain tank. For cooking we had a Colonial oven - you
lit a fire on the top and the bottom of the oven. In the bathroom
was a chip heater to heat the water for a shower or bath. A bus
took us to Crib Point at 7:30 in the morning where we could catch
the train to Frankston. We spent most of our life on the beach
which was outside our back door. I had accumulated a lot of leave
and life was very pleasant for us riding our push bikes
everywhere.
There were less than 100 people living at Somers then. The
butcher’s van came once a week and you bought your meat from the
back of the van. The same with the fruit and veg man once a week in
his van. All toilets were in the back yard away from your house.
The fertilizer man came every fortnight to change your
toilet pan.
We had a good social life. We had a dance in the hall at the
Somers Caravan Park every Saturday night. I used to buy a keg of
beer from the Petty Officer’s Bar for this occasion. There were
lots of parties in Somers homes, card nights and always a nice warm
fire in the winter months. Yes, I thought I saw human nature at its
best in those days before TV
We were happy at Somers. I applied for a War Service home loan
and built a three bedroom house, or rather had one built. I did a
lot of the laboring work myself; like digging the septic tank and
the fencing holes. I cleared the block of trees and shrubs.
In 1949 my pleasant married life came to an abrupt end. The
Korean war was on and once again I was on my way for a year. To my
delight I was again drafted back to F.N.D.
It was now 1952. Things had changed very little in the time I
had been away. Roads had been made where only tracks existed when I
first lived at Somers. I remember when we first stepped off the bus
at Somers with our suitcases. We borrowed a handcart from the local
store to take our cases to our new home. At that time there was
only a sand track and it was heavy going pulling the cart through
the sand.
It was a great place for the kids to grow up with a lovely beach
just in front of our house on The Boulevard. We had blackberry
picking in the summer on all the undeveloped land and mushroom
gathering in autumn on farmers grazing land. As my kids got older
there was sailing and football.
One of the things little Somers did when the population was only
a hundred was to join the Women’s Basketball competition, which
included the entire Peninsula from Frankston down. One year they
won the competition mainly due to the superb play of Margaret
Hibbert who was a very good athlete in her 30s.
Stan Byrne came to Somers during the war in the Air Force. Their
living quarters where the under privileged kids are today. It had
been a migrant camp in the 50s. It was also a Holiday Camp run on
the lines of Holiday Camps in Britain.
Back to Stan Byrne who was a most likable, cheerful man. He
married Dorothy,one of Ron Stone’s daughters. The Stones owned the
General Store for many years. Ray, Ron’s youngest son, took over on
his father’s death.
Stan Byrne started the yacht club at Somers. I was in the Depot
at this time and was able to rescue a few old marker buoys which
the navy was discarding and this gave us a start at establishing
the club. My two sons, Patrick and Michael, joined the club. I
never actually joined but was always there if they needed someone
who could splice flexible steel core rope and other things that
blue water sailors do when they are learning their trade.
We had a Gwen sail boat in our family. The boys previously had a
boat called affectionately “Repairable”, but that’s another story.
We liked to sail over to the Seal Colony and watched the mothers
teaching their babies to swim. Of course, hand-line fishing was
always on. My family liked leather jackets the best. It was always
a good training run back over to Cowes, because we had to pass
through several bomboras which had the boys on the alert as
it is easy to lose control in the swirling waters.
I now live in Rosebud and don’t go to Somers very often these
days. I no longer drive and have trouble walking, but I do go to
visit Peter and family, who own the house I had built in 1981. He
has a barbie from time to time and I go over with my daughter,
Jane, to enjoy Somers hospitality.
Whenever I pass the first house I had on the Boulevard I can’t
help getting nostalgic looking at it. I can almost hear all the
navy kids who had gathered there for a game of football or cricket
with much yelling and laughing.
But I could almost kick myself when I remember that I bought the
first TV in Somers and instead of the kids being in the back yard
playing they were all in my lounge watching Zorro or “Have Gun,
Will Travel”.
I think the only people I would know in Somers now would be Ray
and Brenda Stone, Ron Fitzgerald and Rod Nuske.
The absolute peace of Somers in the early 50s was just the thing
after six years of WW11.
By Tassie Cusick Feb 05
Master of Arms A. J. “Tassie” Cusick on the day
he received his British Empire Medal in 1968. Looking on are son
Patrick and daughter Jane
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