2. Expectations and Achievements

This is an exerpt from Peter Haniotis book "Expectations and Achievements” which is available for $40 from
Peter or Vicky Haniotis
40 Eastern Avenue
2032 Kingsford
Australia
Tel. +61.2.9662 49 09

Many thanks to Mr. Haniotis for his kind permission to let us display parts of his book on this site.


New Dreams
The time of our departure arrived. On the 10th January 1937 fifteen of us left Kythera for Piraeus where we were to take the line ship to Port Said, Egypt, and from there to join the liner on its way from London to Sydney. The whole town saw us off. My mother and father were crying and when my father hugged me he said, “This is goodbye forever. I don’t think I will see you again. You have my blessing. May God be with you.” How right he was; he passed on in August 1939, a week before the Second World War broke out.

Our ship, the P & O liner “Strathaird” called in at Port Said on 2nd March. While I was in Piraeus getting ready I saw Vasso a few times. She assured me that she would wait fore me and that if I ever wanted her to come to Australia she was willing. However I knew I was not in a position to make decisions or plans for the future. Broken hearted was at a very low ebb.

When they heard I was going to Australia some people in Mitata wondered if I could cope with the whole thing. They knew I had never worked manually in my life and in Australia I would have to work long hours standing on my feet. At times I thought that they were probably right but then again this made me more determined to succeed. Later on when I was working at Finley serving on the tables carrying trays of plates my leg hurt and I would bite my lip thinking “Peter, keep it up until you collapse.” I thank God that I got through the crisis and my leg stopped hurting. Was it a miracle or plain will-power? I will never know why I had no trouble with my leg again.

Voyage to the Promised Land
Leaving Greece where I was born and lived the first part of my life, gave me mixed feelings. I was sorry to leave behind my mother and father, my sisters Sofia and Froso and young brother Theodore, but then again I looked forward to the freedom my modest life would bring. I felt new horizons were opening wide. In my fantasies I wanted to see new lands, to meet new people, to make new friends and to make my life more interesting and exciting. And then there was Vasso, the sweetheart I was leaving behind. It was nothing like the big love of my life, but it was a sweet, comfortable, respectable, enduring romance which could be the base of lasting happiness.

At Piraeus harbour where we boarded the line ship to Port Said, lots of friends came to see us off. Among them was Vasso and this is where we exchanged our first and last real kiss. I wondered why people have to go through these tortured moments. Yes, it was torture, because in my heart I felt that it was the last time I would see her and this was our last kiss. I looked at her beautiful smile and became depressed and disheartened.

It was time to depart and finally the ship started moving slowly away. We waved and sent kisses to our loved ones until the ship turned and we lost sight of them.

I felt very strange; my face was burning. I went downstairs to my berth and lay on my bed where I tried to sleep, in vain. I got up (it must have been about 1 am), and went upstairs through the lounge and to the deck. It was deserted. I sat on a bench, head in hands, for a long time, lost in time. Someone sat on the bench next to me but I didn’t turn to look, I didn’t care. And then I heard a woman’s voice saying, “Is it that bad?”. When I turned to look I saw a girl sitting on the bench. She was probably in her mid-twenties, with frizzy blond hair. She asked me if I wanted to talk about it and after a moment’s hesitation I decided I had nothing to lose. I was like someone who falls into the sea and cannot swim; any help was welcomed. I introduced myself and she told me her name was Rosa. She said, “It looks like we’re in the same boat,” and we laughed. I realised she must have needed someone to talk to as much as I did. Rosa told me she was from Alexandria, Egypt, and that she was going to visit her parents who lived there. She was a singer in one of the big cabarets in Athens. Her boyfriend had been arrested with a group of anarchists and sent to gaol. Frightened, she decided to leave Greece for a while. She took a photo from her bag and wrote a few words and the date, 24-2-37, on it. I found this photo when I was looking for old photos suitable for my book. I proceeded to tell Rosa my troubles and we concluded that life without troubles is not really life.

The next morning a group of us met on the deck and decided that from then on, until the voyage was over and each of us set off on our own destiny, we had to be united and act like one family. We all agreed and unanimously appointed J Ferros as our leader, to help us with serious matters. He had done the trip twice before and spoke good English. We then separated into three smaller groups and I was made the interpreter of my group of five. The others knew no English and I knew a few hundred words, which I couldn’t yet put into sentences. However I could say “Please give me a stamp (or a drink).”

At the beginning we all felt like fish out of water and needed perking up. However it didn’t take long before we felt optimistic and cheerful and looked forward to better days. The whole world was in front of us and it was up to us to conquer it.

The ship was crowded and the food was not the best, but they were minor details.

Before long we anchored at Alexandria. Through my reading I had learned that Alexander the Great had built this city bearing his name in 300 BC. From the harbour the little we could see of the city was a little disappointing, but I was assured by Rosa, who left us there, that in the centre there were fine buildings with good gardens. We took her word for it as we exchanged hugs and kisses as we said goodbye.

The following morning we arrived in Port Said where we had to board the liner heading for Australia. The ship stopped a short distance from the wharf and large row boats took us to shore. (Probably by now the harbour has been excavated so the ships can get to the wharf.) On one of the boats was a fat man singing out in broken Greek “Haniotis! Your father told me you are to come with me!” I was surprised and knew my father wouldn’t have anything to do with it. I was told that it was a trick used by some hotels. They pick out passengers’ names from the travel agency and bluff people to try to get customers. We were already booked into a hotel owned by a Kytherian woman by the name of Andronicus, and her son Con. Con was nearly seven feet tall and sounded a bit simple, but who wouldn’t if he had to answer questions from all sixteen of us at the same time?

The “Strathaird” was not due to pick us up for a week and after two days we would know if it had enough berths for all of us. The uncertainty was killing us but we took advantage of this waiting time to explore Port Said and its marvels. Language there was no problem: most of the locals spoke five languages, including Greek. There were shoeshine boys all over the place who pestered passers-by to shine their shoes or to buy small items like chewing gum, condoms, shoe laces, etc. my shoes needed a bit of a shine and I asked one of the boys to do them. With me was Colin, one of our party who was a good friend of mine from Mitata. In a few minutes my shoes were done and I asked what I owed. The shoeshine boy asked me if I’d like new laces as I didn’t have any. I looked down and to my horror realised he had cut them off with a razor blade and removed them and was now trying to sell me new ones. I got angry and slapped his face before hurriedly leaving with Colin. Soon after there were a dozen shoeshine boys with their boxes hanging from their shoulders after us, shouting in Arabic. We retreated to a restaurant where we had our meals and asked the owner who was Greek to help us. He went outside and after talking to them they eventually went their way. We thanked him and God that his shop was there on that corner.

The next day we went to the entrance of the Suez Canal. I remember the statue of the French architect who designed the canal and still have a photo taken on that excursion. Later on we went by a ferry punt to the Asian side.

Coming back to our hotel we heard the good news we were longing for, that our berths on the “Strathaird” were secured. After dinner at our usual restaurant we had a beer to celebrate the occasion.

We were asked if we wanted to go to Cairo to see the pyramids; it was a day bus trip which would cost us two pounds each. Only Mr Ferros and his wife could afford the trip. My whole fortune, together with my sister Mina’s, amounted to fifty pounds, and we had already spent seven. The balance had to last us for the remainder of our journey and even so I felt we shouldn’t arrive in Australia flat broke.

I really envied the Ferros’s being able to go to Cairo, but convinced myself I wasn’t that interested in seeing the body of the Pharaoh in his tomb anyway.

The excitement hit us as we boarded the 30,000-tonne ship, the “Strathaird”. To our surprise the tourist class was nearly empty (and we had been through torture wondering if we would miss out!). what had happened, luckily for us, was that a large sporting club had cancelled its reservation. (We heard that insurance paid for the empty berths.) so we had the tourist class practically to ourselves. At all the functions like the dances and bingo, passengers from first class joined us.

After two days we were out of the Suez Canal and into the Red Sea. (I could see nothing red to justify its name.) Two days later we stopped at Port Sudan. The P & O liner had the Royal mail for places in the British Empire. Just after the ship anchored, a canoe with two colourful natives came to the steps of the ship and on board. They were very tall and their hair was untidy and sticking out even though they wore several hairpins. Occasionally they used their hairpins to scratch their heads as if they had had lice. They wore grass skirts and several hundred beads were hanging over their bodies. Each one held a long spear. They were very friendly; though they said only a few words in their native tongue they smiled a lot. We gave them some chocolates and they seemed to like them very much.

After a few hours the ship departed, but not before we returned from our excursion into town. There was a Greek community in Sudan and we met the school teacher of the Greek school where there were about 200 pupils. The town consisted of over 1,000 grass huts. We met the children and some of their teachers and were amazed at how well the children spoke Greek.

When we decided to go into town we found there was only one taxi available so only five of us went and the others envied us. We took a photo of the taxi which looked like a very early Ford. We returned to the ship with only minutes to spare and I wondered what would happen if the taxi broke down.

We left Port Sudan and the next stop was Aden, the capital of Saudi Arabia. As soon as we arrived we could not see anything for the cloud of dust. We were told it was the Simoom season and that it takes half a day to see the sun. There were lines of shops along the quay with Arab salesmen and customers bargaining loudly for discounts. The town itself is built on a hill with several one- and two-storey buildings, mostly shops. Even we, with our mingey finances, were able to afford to buy silk shirts and pyjamas for five shillings each.

On top of the hill was what looked like a deserted old fort. It was really hot and dry and we were longing to go back to the ship for refreshments. There wasn’t a tree or grass or anything green in sight and I thought how lucky we were to live in places with plenty of green and fresh air and felt sorry for the people there.

We left Aden for Colombo, Ceylon’s capital, where we were to stay for two days. On our arrival we received the bad news from the health authorities that the chest x-rays of our co-passenger and friend, Nick, were positive, and that he had to return to Greece. We were all very sorry and disappointed, and Nick was devastated. I also started worrying about myself; I had a nagging feeling that they would think that because of my stiff leg I wouldn’t be able to cope with the hard work and long hours standing on the job I was likely to get. I also remembered how some of my friends back home had the same opinion. At every port we stopped I was scared they may send me back, and as we were leaving I felt easier.

This torture lasted until we left Fremantle and I felt sure I would stay. Only then could I start making plans for the future.

We all sent Nick off on his way back home and most of us were in tears. In a few years Nick was in good health. He married a girl from Mitata and they both came to Australia. On one of the rare occasions I visited Randwick racecourse, (and I lived only a stone’s throw away from it for many years), I met Nick and his lovely wife trying to pick winners. They looked like millionaires coming to the races, well dressed and all. I was very happy to see them because I hadn’t heard news of Nick since we departed in Colombo about twelve years before. They told me they were running a successful restaurant in a west New South Wales town and that they were in Sydney for a short holiday. That was the last time I saw them, but I heard from a friend that they were doing very well.

After Nick’s ordeal we let ourselves enjoy the wonders of Colombo. We heard that there was a big Buddhist temple and we made it our first priority. When we arrived we were told that if we wanted to go inside we had to take our shoes off and that if we didn’t want to discard our shoes we could see Buddha through a big window at the back. We all decided to go into the temple.

I can’t speak for the others, but for me it was an incredible experience. The statue of Buddha was huge and golden. His head almost reached the ceiling, but what was really very impressive were his eyes, which followed you as you moved. I am not a very religious man though I was brought up with Christianity and thought that it could do no harm for people to follow the good Christian principles. I read Buddha’s teachings and found them to be not much different. When I looked into Buddha’s eyes I had the feeling he was piercing through me, trying to penetrate my soul and I was bewildered. I felt that there was something more than this statue, something I could not comprehend.

We stayed in Colombo for two full days. The second day I thought I’d try man-sulky riding. It looked like fun and cost only two shillings an hour. There were several of them waiting for customers, so I took one and thought it was great. We went along busy streets and eventually to the suburbs. Everywhere were thousands of Indians with their turbans and women with very colourful dresses. Suddenly I got the impression that the trip was taking longer than we agreed. I tried to talk to him in English, but who could understand my English! He was answering in Indian and I panicked. I’d heard that sometimes they take tourists to deserted places and rob them. Soon after we were back in the main streets and my fears all but gone. We were half an hour late but he didn’t ask me for more money, and I was happy to save a shilling.

Everywhere in Colombo were shops where you could buy whatever you wanted. Comparing their prices with the shops in Aden, Colombo was dearer.

There was a magnificent park with nice lawns, between the grass. One of our fellow travellers showed us a fascinating plant, the petals of which folded up when you touched them and opened again when you took your finger away.

We were told that the next stop would be the Paradise Islands, the Cocos Islands, where the P & O ship was to pick up and deliver the Royal Mail and leave supplies. I was very excited. In my early days at school I’d read about Robinson Crusoe and his adventures on a paradise island, and also about Jules Verne’s mystery island where five men in a balloon dropped onto a deserted island and had to survive. I was very fascinated with these books, which I read over and over again. I thought I was going to one of these islands to walk on their soil, feel the atmosphere, to see the palm trees and smell their perfume. How lucky I was!

We had heard that the islands belonged to an Australian family; if I remember correctly their name was Ross. They had been given the islands by Queen Victoria of England for some service they had performed for the monarchy. There were about twelve in the family; brothers, sisters and their children, plus some white and Indian servants and about two hundred Indian workers on the plantation. My wish to get out there and meet Mr Ross did not eventuate because as soon as our ship arrived, a boat from the island brought and collected their mail and a couple of large boxes of their monthly supplies. The whole matter took about one hour and we were on our way. A little disappointed, I glimpsed for the last time the palms of the Cocos. Looking for it on the map we found just a little dot, the only land between Colombo and Australia.

The excitement was building up amongst us as we approached the place of our dreams. Australia here we come! For years we had been told so many things about Australia and sometimes they were hard to believe; we thought their love of the country forced them to exaggerate. This applies to our uncles and cousins who lived in Australia and came to Greece for holidays. We were often told that most of our compatriots in Australia were millionaires (they meant in drachmas of course; one pound was worth four hundred drachmas, so if they had two thousand five hundred pounds they really were considered millionaires by some).

We also saw photos of Australia’s very impressive shops with five or six employees all dressed in black trousers and white shirts with bow ties and anchored moustaches, standing in line next to the counters. This made us think how lucky they were to come to Australia early and to own one of those shops within a couple of years! Although my brother James was not so emphatic in praise of life there and while I didn’t give much notice to his opinion, I later found out that in some respects he was right.