Reminiscence: The last voyage of MV Bulolo

BY TERRY EDWINSMITH

WITHIN A FEW MONTHS of my arrival at Taurama Barracks near Port Moresby in 1967, as part of Australia’s commitment to educate Pacific Islands Regiment servicemen, Christmas vacation was imminent and what better way to see the country as a new arrival than to go on a cruise around TPNG’s coastline. Advertisements in the South Pacific Post invited readers to make a passage on the Burns Philp & Co Ltd-owned MV Bulolo for a New Year’s Eve trip from Port Moresby to Madang via Samarai and Lae and then on to Rabaul before returning to Port Moresby.

The voyage had originated in Sydney before proceeding to Brisbane and Port Moresby as part of Burn Philp’s mail steamer service, run on behalf of the Australian government, to islands in the Pacific.

MV Bulolo was built in Glasgow in 1938 and commenced trade between Australia and PNG ports the same year as a cargo-passenger ship making about eight voyages a year.

When World War II intervened, the ship was converted to an armed merchant cruiser boasting seven six-inch guns, two anti-aircraft guns as well as depth charges and small arms.

HMAS Bulolo commenced convoy escort duties to the United Kingdom and the next two years were spent almost entirely in the Atlantic Ocean. She was then converted to a Landing Ship Headquarters, employing extensive communications equipment, and she saw service in North Africa as the flag ship of Commodore Douglas Pennant, Naval Commander of Force G.

On Empire Day, 24 May 1944, King George VI visited the ship to review the assault craft of Force G from her bridge as preparations for the D-Day landings on the Normandy coast were made.

Bulolo returned to South East Asia in 1945 as a headquarters ship for reoccupation duties.

The ship’s battle honours were impressive and many Burns Philp merchant navy personnel remained with her throughout the war.

She recommenced civilian cargo-passenger duties in 1948 and the mail steamer service became a vital link between Australia and its Pacific territories. The regular sailings brought news, passengers, parcels, presents and social activity at island ports.

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All manner of people came to the wharf to witness the comings and goings, unloading machinery, loading copra, as Bulolo made her contribution to commerce.

After Christmas in 1967, I embarked on the ship, which was flying the red, white and blue tri colour Burns Philp flag with a black and purple scotch thistle emblem superimposed on the central white colour. Approximately 120 passengers were on board. I was in a single berth cabin just above the water line.

In charge was Captain Brett Hilder, newly married in Brisbane prior to the voyage and as famous as his ship. Born in Sydney in 1911 to an eminent water colourist (J J Hilder), he started work with Burns Philp in 1927 as a sailor travelling to the Dutch East Indies and the South Pacific Islands. He rose to become a ship’s master.

During World War II he taught navigation to Australian air crews then flew Catalina flying boats for the RAAF. After the war he returned to Burns Philp. In 1964 he became Senior Captain of Company.

Following in his father’s footsteps, Brett painted and drew, using water colours for landscapes and for portraits of the places he visited people and their people. His works were exhibited in Australia and the Pacific. He wrote extensively on navigation and his experiences for leading travel magazines. In 1966, he published a book about his father’s art career, The Heritage of J J Hilder, including a profile of his own works as well as his brother Bim’s art achievements. But none of this was known to me as we set out from Port Moresby on this ‘around the country’ trip, taking on and depositing goods and passengers en route.

In Samarai the bung (market) was in full swing and I walked leisurely around the island whilst the ship was busy with commerce. Kwato Mission was the next brief stop.

The end of 1967 was approaching as we headed for Lae. Little did the passengers know that this was to be the ship’s last voyage. Captain and crew were certainly aware as the New Year’s Eve party was to be a memorable night for all. It seemed that the Australian government had withdrawn the mail service subsidy to Burns Philp.

We arrived in Lae on New Year’s Day to wander streets with shops closed for the public holiday. The Chinese community celebrated with fire crackers and a dragon dance.

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I visited the Lae Administration Centre, Botanical Gardens, War Cemetery, the harbour precinct and Lae Showground, ablaze with colour and movement as a singsing was taking place. It was a grand occasion for participants and spectators alike.

The following day was the day of sailing. I was on the bridge watching a curious event unfold. It was a relatively quiet morning as many passengers slept off the night before.

The captain directed the ship to enter what resembled an extinct volcano sitting submerged in the tranquil sea. I suspect it was Malai Island.

Malai Islet is in the Siassi Island group off the medium sized island of Umboi off the larger island of New Britain. The ship sailed through a small break in the crater cone to reveal deep calm water covering the throat of a water-filled vent. The sides of the crater wall were steep and almost treeless. No form of habitation could be seen. The ship sailed around the vent in a 360 degree manoeuvre before exiting through the small entrance. Captain Hilder assured the landlubbers on the bridge that there was indeed enough water below us to keep the ship safe.

The Captain was exploring his beloved Pacific Islands again.

Madang was the next port of call, the Madang harbour entrance yielding the most picturesque vision. I delighted in visiting the Lutheran Church and a nearby village before having a quick swim in the sea at the harbour entrance. In hindsight, it was probably not a very good idea swimming alone over the continental shelf.

Rabaul was the next port of call, provincial capital of East New Britain prior to the town being evacuated and nearly destroyed in 1994 when Tavurvur volcano erupted.

The scenery in Rabaul was also magnificent. The shops were as interesting as any I had seen. I had an opportunity to catch up with a friend from Australia, Rev John Mavor of the Methodist Church at Malmaluan. He picked me up from the ship and showed me the local sights. From the heights of Malmaluan, I surveyed Rabaul and its attendant volcanoes before exploring the anti aircraft gun emplacements that Malmaluan was famous for.

One of the first places we visited was George Brown High School, originally a mission school. Being school holidays, the buildings were closed but the grounds were well kept.

That night, following an early evening meal, I was taken to see the Baining Fire Dancers perform using their unique style of elaborate dress, costumes, masks, body paint and music in the presence of fire.

This ceremony performed by the Baining Mountain people involved men and women of all ages in preparation and performance. Large bonfires were built over a bed of stones and the hot coals smoothed out to enable the men to perform that part of the ceremony.

The night dance demonstrated male activities and their active jungle life. Large head dresses, penis gourds and paint incorporating feathers, gave meaning to the onlookers as the dancers depicted the hunter- gathering activities of the region which have been practised for centuries past.

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Preparations for this dance began weeks in advance as the elders physically and mentally prepared young men for the task ahead. On the night, music was played as the young men danced and skipped through the hot coals to the chants of the onlookers. It proved to be a very moving experience.

Next morning I returned to Bulolo from Malmaluan after witnessing the sun rising over Rabaul’s majestic volcanoes and crater harbour.

At the dockside were all manner of people. Groups had assembled to witness the end of an era. The police band was in attendance and, as the ship pulled away from its moorings, the people on the dock symbolically held streamers and bunting in a bid to hold back the clock, to hold dear the memory of the Bulolo in their lives and what the mail service had meant to them and their community over the past two decades. The band played farewell.

An air of melancholy descended upon the ship, passengers and crew.

For some it was difficult to comprehend the magnificent scenery that unfolded at Rabaul Harbour as the Bulolo slipped her moorings for the very last time in January 1968.

Samarai Island was soon passed as the ship headed back to Port Moresby where I disembarked, not fully comprehending the enormity of the events that were unfolding around me.

For some in the Territory the Bulolo was a link with Australia, family and friends. Its presence provided a welcome break to the daily routine; it was the centre of the social scene for many Australian expatriates. It was a magnet for the locals who would eagerly await the six weekly hustle and bustle that the ship brought, the welcoming of new

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friends, and the departure of old comrades whose lives touched theirs over many months or years as they had “gone pinis”.

Air services might be more efficient and frequent but the Bulolo’s mail freight passenger service was the stuff of legend – a romance unequalled in modern society.

For ten days or so I had relaxed as a tourist on the last voyage of the Bulolo unaware of the stories that countless thousands of former passengers would have to tell, especially those who lived for many years at one of the ship’s ports of call and who had witnessed the comings and goings of family and friends over a twenty year period.

Who was the greater, the captain or the ship, the man or the machine? Or was it a combination of the parts that wrote the pages of history?

Sadly, after 161 round voyages from Sydney, in 1968 the Bulolo was sold to the China Steel Corporation in Taiwan arriving at Kaohsiung on Empire Day 24 May 1968 for scrapping.

It is believed that on the final voyage from Brisbane to Port Moresby, Captain Hilder” navigated an unnamed passage through the Great Barrier Reef into the Coral Sea. It is now named Hilder Passage, as Admiralty Charts show.

Brett Hilder died some thirteen years later on the 9 April 1981 and is buried in the Holland Park Crematorium, Brisbane. He is survived by one son and three daughters.

The ghosts of the past lay hidden in the scrapbooks and photo albums of the people whose lives were touched by the memories of a bygone era. Long may the memory remain of the voyages of the MV Bulolo and the hidden tales that this truly remarkable ship evokes in the minds of those who still remember the adventures of a bygone era.

Bon Voyage Bulolo!