Dave Christie, (Formerly of the Royal Australian Navy) Corryong Courier
From serving on a destroyer, I had been drafted to the frigate HMAS Shoalhaven in 1952 (pictured). This ship was tied up at Garden Island, where it was also being used to take on board a few of the new National Service personnel.
The duty Quartermaster on the gangway had trouble directing these lads where to go. Eventually, he told them: “Follow Dave and you won’t get lost.” It was at that time that I asked my mate Ian who the Skipper was. He said “Sam Beaty VC.”
Ian, who knew his history reasonably well, pointed out that in World War II this bloke had rammed an old destroyer, loaded with out-of-date ammunition, into the French Dockyard. The Germans had loaded the crew up in a truck and taken them up to the Town Hall for interrogation.
The old ship then promptly exploded, smashing every window in the town and rendering the dockyard useless. It was Sam Beaty (who had brought his wife and children from England), who intended to stay with the Australian Navy. I had several conversations with Sam while on lookout duty on the bridge. I did glean from our conversations that a large amount of alcohol in the officers’ wardroom did not impress him. I was also led to believe that this Sam Beaty was related to the first War Admiral.
I was directed to the rear port mess, where there were several ratings that I had previously served with. Upon being drafted in on any ship, one has to nominate their home address so that travelling time may be added when one is due for leave. I told the ship’s writer I would travel to Khancoban in NSW. I had no home but this was a place where I could visit my sister and brother-in-law. I was told that this was amazing as the person whom I had taken the place of, Bruce Chisholm, had recently been drafted elsewhere. On several occasions, he had taken his leave at this same place, where he had an uncle.
Sister ship to the Shoalhaven, the Murchison, joined us in going to the west, which was the usual way of eventually heading north, so we seamen believed we were returning to Korea or Malaya. For unknown reasons, we took a left-hand turn from Shark Bay to the west. Eventually, we arrived at the group of Montebello Islands and dropped anchor. An archipelago and Australia’s Greatest Jewel in the Indian Ocean.
Many of our crew were bird watchers including myself and this was the most wondrous sight we would ever hope to see. The whole place was covered with sea birds of more types than any of us had ever seen in one place.
Covering each of the small Islands were nests among the tussocks, which had so very many chicks and breeds of all ages. The albatross, constant followers of our ships, were a favourite with most of us and here we were privy to one of the secrets regarding a place where they breed.
An old British corvette escort ship was anchored between two islands and we were told that Britain’s first atomic bomb was in it.
The story is that Australian Prime Minister Robert Menzies had been made aware that Britain had applied to Canada to use their frozen north to test their bomb. Menzies had heard of this plan and had rushed to volunteer Australia for the task, apparently with no boundaries, compensation or atomic capabilities for our defence. We still have to wonder that if the British had nominated Sydney Harbour or Port Philip Bay how fast Menzies would have volunteered those places.
During the afternoon, I practised my old trick of falling over the side (in reasonably shallow water) to battle with the most beautiful cray fish I had ever seen. Everything about this place must have been put together by God personally.
On the following morning, nearly all of us seamen gathered on the upper deck to watch the detonation of the atomic bomb, very scantily dressed in shorts or underpants. Overnight, we had moved a little to the north and were told that we should still have a good view of the flash. We were also told that prevailing winds would sweep any fallout to the south and so to the Antarctic.
Only with mirrors were we able to look at the flash, and most of us did this. We did see the flash but the rest of the program went very badly wrong. Within minutes, hot ash and cinders fell on us and a petty officer came out on the deck where we were and ordered all of us to sweep the stuff overboard.
In exercising this, I was not the only one who suffered burns. Mine were only on the upper part of my left foot and the middle of my back. The repercussions from these burns have been with me and probably everybody else that was there, forever.
Damage to our country’s magnificent jewel was indeed devastating and did show the total disrespect and even contempt, that our Prime Minister (and his toadies) had for Australia.
[Corryong Courier] Editor’s footnote: Operation Hurricane – the first British atomic bomb test – was conducted in the Montebello Islands 100 kilometres off the north-western coast of Western Australia on October 3rd, 1952. The atomic explosion was produced by a 25-kiloton nuclear fission bomb, which was detonated in a lagoon 700 metres off Trimouille Island in the Montebello archipelago. It created a crater in the ocean floor more than six metres deep and more than 300 metres wide. The test was intended to provide information about how foodstuffs, shipping and defensive structures would be affected by nuclear explosions and subsequent radioactive fallout – hazardous airborne radioactive dust particles that fall to the ground.
Three nuclear tests were conducted on the Montebello Islands between 1952 and 1956. The final test was six times bigger than the Hiroshima bomb.
This article appeared in the Corryong Courier, 18 July 2024.