Peter James Dawson

Story

Overland Trip to Oz

My father Alan Dawson did not get on with his family in the ancient English market town of Aylesbury, Buckinghamshire and decided to take us as far away from them as possible. He sold the family newsagency and bought a large green Austin diesel van. Alan converted it into the world’s first camper. He put in car seats for my mother Pat, my brother Bob and myself. On the 22nd October 1959 the van, nicknamed Big Joe after the numberplate 44BJO, trundled onto the Channel Ferry at Dover bound for Dunkirk. With little money and few maps we crossed France, Switzerland and Northern Italy in three short days. Four days were spent travelling the length of Yugoslavia, with a short stopover in the Adriatic port of Dubrovnik where good friends had been made during previous visits. A last chance to feast on fresh caught fish and pomegranates. We had taken with us food from England. Lots of different tins of food, rice and flour, because we didn’t want to have any illness of any kind due to eating food or drinking water that might have been a bit suspect.

The winding road took us inland and into the dry rugged mountains of Greece. Into the European part of Turkey on the 29th and another ferry across the Bosphorus, as it had not been bridged back then. From Istanbul we went to its Asian twin city of Uskadar, where fireworks were exploding to celebrate National Day, to the great excitement of the boys. Five days of hard, slow driving on rough gravel roads saw Big Joe caked in dust as it headed through Turkey and the disputed land of the Kurds, Mt Ararat receding in the distance. Alan tempted fate at a small town 3000 miles from the journey\’s start, he announced the fact withÉ”and not a single breakdown!” After a stroll and a little shopping we returned to the van to find it had had its first puncture. The 5th November dawned and we crossed into Iran, to follow the tracks of lorries across the Great Salt Desert. ‘Beware of the djinns who lick the salty sweat from your feet,’ Alan warned Pat and the boys! Broken springs forced another stop for repairs in Tehran. A day trip took us to view the Shah\’s crown jewels.

Into Pakistan to be met by camel drivers and hawkers out hunting. Another breakdown caused by a hole in the fuel line, resulted in Pat and the lads being invited for refreshment by Mrs. Mann on the outskirts of Quetta, while Alan went off to get the pipe soldered. We had a pleasant overnight stay in the Mann\’s house, before climbing up through a pass in the mountains as the van shadowed a steam train driven by Mr Mann. Down to the coastal city of Karachi where Pat had a short, luxurious break from the dusty road. Alan took Big Joe in for a service at the Austin dealer\’s garage. He, it turned out, had played cricket against Alan when he had been a student in England. Magnanimously he looked after the Dawsons, putting us up in his hotel while the van was cleaned and repaired from roof to tyres. Even the splintered handle on Alan\’s shovel was replaced! The well-to-do gentleman toured the family around each day, either in his Mercedes Benz (which Bob adored) or in his Landrover (which was Pete\’s favourite).

In the New Delhi GPO Alan was invited to take the family for dinner at the home of a Sikh. A magic tour of the Taj Mahal entranced all of the Dawsons. December 28th saw the Dawsons embark on the P&O liner Strathnaver. Hot humid nights were spent on deck, as the cabins were stuffy. Finally disembarking at Fremantle on the 8th January 1960, where the Dawsons (and Big Joe) began a new decade and a new life as Aussies. In Perth, where we lived for the first 18 months, my first impressions were of hot, dry days with the smell of gum leaves in the air and dodging swooping magpies. Working as a printer’s engineer Alan broke his ankle in an accident and was retrenched. He then drove our trusty old Austin van named ‘Big Joe’ to Melbourne where the family settled down. The huge expanse of the Nullarbor was amazing and I stumbled across a wombat warren of epic proportions.

Sister Jane was born at Sunshine in 1966 and, after moving to the old port of Williamstown, we kids completed our education. We kids now have families of our own, which have added Malay, Afro-American and Greek ethnicities to the Dawson\’s Anglo-Celtic bloodline.

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