Coming to Canada
Moving to Canada, twice, to be with her husband led to a life-altering transformation for this ‘dizzy young blonde’
This is my story of migrating to Canada, twice. I have been here for over 50 years, first coming over from Australia in 1953. Actually, my original plan had me headed for London, England, when I was 22 years of age, together with about 2,000 other people on board the old troop ship, RMS Otranto. Leaving from Sydney, we were all eager to see Queen Elizabeth’s coronation celebrations and enjoy ports of call in Ceylon (now Sri Lanka), lndia, Egypt and the Mediterranean. I had an aunt and uncle living not far from London and so I stayed with them and got a job as a secretary for a “corsetiere” in offices overlooking Regent Street. I knew nothing about corsets, but the offices were all set up with television to see the coronation procession and that suited me just fine!
After the Queen’s 1953 festivities, my Scottish boyfriend, Charlie, and I decided to go to Canada. He and I had ridden up to Aberdeen on his motorbike to meet his family and see the heather on the hills, and salmon jumping up the streams he’d so often described to me. I was also fortunate to witness the Queen driving to church in Balmoral one time!
Charles had been out to Australia a couple of times when he was training to be a naval officer. He sailed aboard a few of the merchant navy ships that came in to Sydney Harbour. On those occasions, of course he and his friend came to see me and my sister. Charlie trained on the Conway, the sister ship to Nelson’s flag ship, which was stationed in Wales. He became a powerful swimmer and in fact swam from Wales to Ireland. He was given a cup for this by Lady Mclver. He also later became a ship’s Master Captain.
Adventures at Sea
This was quite an adventure for me, as I had never left Australia before. We crossed the Atlantic in October 1953 on the Consuelo, a small cargo ship, heading out from Middlesborough, England. There were only four passengers on the ship and Charlie, his friend Bill and I were three of them! We soon enough found ourselves avoiding icebergs and heaving to in the middle of a most dreadful storm that sent waves right over the bow of the ship. I watched them crash over onto the deck from where Charlie was holding me underneath the bridge, thinking this would be the end of the line for us, which now brings thoughts of the movie Titanic to mind. It was indeed pretty scary for a while, but we eventually reached the calm waters of the St. Lawrence River. Arriving in Quebec City, we were off on our motorcycles to Toronto! I found out that three hours on a motorbike is my limit. Charlie and Bill found jobs in and around Toronto, and I was employed as a secretary.
In 1955, I flew home to Australia, because Charlie and I had a bit of trouble together in the beginning of our relationship. There were stresses on both our parts. Charles was trying to find some other way of living without having to return to the sea. He knew how long periods away could cause problems at home and he wasn’t going to get married until he had settled himself down somehow. I understood that, but I also missed Australia where the sun shone brightly
most of the time. I also missed the surf coming into the 26 beaches all around Sydney. And so we parted ways.
Wedding Bells
Charles asked me to come back to him in Canada in 1967, after having established himself in a good career, so after 12 years apart, we became a married couple.
Charlie was captain of his own ship on the Great Lakes before becoming the manager for the Canada Steamship Lines fleet, where he was held in very high esteem. We had to move to Montreal because the CSL offices were there. I knew this was the ideal job for him! What he didn’t know about the sea and ships wasn’t worth knowing.
Settling down in the West Island neighbourhood of Roxboro, we had two children, Anthony and Wendy. While Charles was busy with his work, I became active in our community, especially with the 700-member Roxboro Tennis Club, where I was club president for five years.
Our family was very happy in Roxboro and we had a beautiful home. Unfortunately, relationship trouble reared its head again as Charlie’s eye began to wander. When I found out he had invited our 15-year-old daughter Wendy along on outings with his significant other, I lost my inner equilibrium and all faith in him. I took solace where I could find it, which was oftentimes at church. The local minister presiding over us all had a profound, life-altering effect on me.
One of the results was that I wrote and published two books. My first, ln the Palm of His Hand, tells how this once dizzy blonde leading such a full, exciting young life tumbling over with romance, adventure, trials and tribulations, found God as a born-again Christian. The book proved so popular, it too was “born again”—twice in fact, as it is now in its third publication. My most recent one looks at what troubles me most in the world and was quite cathartic to write.
At one point towards the end of our marriage, I went to the Ontario Bible College and studied Noah’s Ark so intensely I received A-plus on my papers, which strove to prove that the Ark did indeed land on the Mountains of Ararat. I also worked as a secretary to the Reverend Dr. Marney Patterson, who was the itinerant leader of lnvitation to Live Ministries and brought God into the lives of thousands around the world. The reverend taught me so much and I loved working for him.
Charlie divorced me in 1993 and married his aforementioned girlfriend, and also gave Wendy the option of living with them in Sault Ste. Marie, where Charlie had retired. She readily agreed, I suspect from an appreciation of her father’s willingness to indulge her whims, and I did not want to risk having her push me out of her life entirely, so I reluctantly agreed to the new arrangements. Charlie died of cancer in 2006 because he smoked too much and never heeded anyone’s warnings.
Starting Anew
Wendy moved back to me after Charles passed away. By then she was a graduate of Windsor University, but couldn’t find a good job in the Sault. It was pretty traumatic when she came back to me, but we ironed out our differences and she went on to become company vice-president. Now a mom herself to 12-year-old Lochlan, she has her own home not far from here. Dear Lochlan is destined to grow up to be just as smart as his mother!
Rounding off my own working life is the 25-year span I spent as an assistant administrator and secretary at a synagogue in Thornhill. I loved every minute of it there with the Rabbi and his Rabbanit (wife), as well as their small children and the day nursery they ran in conjunction with the synagogue. At 80 years of age, however, the time came to retire.
It’s been quite a journey so far, and I can’t wait to see what the Lord has in store for me next! ■