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Welcome to the new Christmas Island site!

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This new site is still a work in progress. You can view the old site here: Old Christmas Island Site

Latest Submissions


Chatty's picture

The Greystone Phenomenon - Part 3

Unbelievably there’s more. This time the events were painless and bloodless. However they were bloody funny. Yorkie and I had been at work for at least 2 hours when it dawned on us that the “Prof” hadn’t shown his face at work. This would normally be greeted with great pleasure because we knew that when he wasn’t around we were safe.

Chatty's picture

The Greystone Phenomenon - Part 2

By now you are very likely wondering how the “Prof” had survived as long as he had. I think that thought has flitted across many a mind. Believe it or not, there’s more to come. Sadly, being a Pet Fitter on Christmas Island meant that there was no one else around to do our major repairs or maintenance. Sometimes it was just a complete pain in the nether regions. Other times it was a challenge that was faced with some trepidation and then there were the times when you knew that something just had to go wrong.

Chatty's picture

The Greystone Phenomenon - Part 1

The following events are not in any chronological order they just appear as they are remembered.

Chatty's picture

Purpose In Life

Why were we here? Basically our sole role in life was to ensure that all those who needed anything to do with POL (Petrol-Oil & Lubricants) got what they required. As the only way to get bulk quantities of fuel to the Island was by sea, we were heavily involved with the naval contingent, hence the seeds of some of the hopefully amusing anecdotes. Although Yorkie and I were in the R.A.S.C. (Royal Army Service Corps), we were posted to, and under the “protective” wing of 73 (Christmas Island) Sqn Royal Engineers. So it was a case of grin and bear it.

Chatty's picture

If You Don't Believe Me

This first section will be mainly dedicated to the activities of Alan Greystone, Yorkie Elsey and myself. It proves that you can really do some stupid things and still live to tell the tale. “We’ve got a leak in one of the tanks”. Just the sort of cry you want to hear half way through a Saturday morning. Not only was it a leak, it was a leak in an Avgas tank. That meant action was necessary before we could shoot off to the NAAFI for our wee dram of beverage.

Chatty's picture

Gotta Posting

Done it. Travelled by air for thousands of miles and survived. Now for twelve months of exploration, making new friends and collecting experiences and memories that will hopefully last a lifetime. This section is basically a collection of anecdotes relating to events and individuals that happened during my time on the Rock. The first thing that comes to mind is the welcome we received on our arrival at the “Airport Terminal” on Christmas Island. I use the term very loosely. Basically it was no more than a large Twynam Hut. Painted white.

Chatty's picture

The Blue-job Hornpipe

Not having been to either of the last two airports since 1964 I can't really pass judgement on the present situation, but, Heathrow was like a Small landing strip compared to those. They were cities within cities. Again we had to go through Customs and Immigration. It didn't make sense to me seeing we were only going to be here for about 3 hours while they did a "Turn round". Still who am I to buck the system. However, this time I was a little more careful with my comments when speaking to the Airport S.S. We were pointed to a bus and informed we were going to the International Inn.

Chatty's picture

Fruity Sheriff

That's the plane down, now for me. The heart rate's dropping and the sweat glands are going into reverse. Now I'm off the plane I'm full of confidence. "Nothing to it really, is there?" I get a sideways glance from Yorkie that says something like "you aint seen nothing yet". We casually make our way into the terminal building to be met by US Customs and Immigration. "Passport", no please or thank you. Bloody Drongo, Dressed up like a Japanese Admiral, gold braid everywhere, he obviously wasn't too keen on Brit squaddies. "Got any fruit onya?". This is where I sadly made my first mistake.

Chatty's picture

Baron Von Richthofen

It’s amazing how tight you can wear a seat belt without actually cutting the body in half. It does restrict the breathing, but it helps to mute the screams of terror. Each bump, air pocket, change of engine tone were threats to my survival. 7 hours, will I manage to retain my sanity for 7 hours? WHAT’S THAT? Only the drinks trolley. Now here’s a possible answer to my nightmare. A mobile supply of canned & bottled liquid anaesthetic. Soon I was downing a good supply of fluid relaxant. I could almost have flown without the artificial aid of an aircraft.

Chatty's picture

Only Birds And Idiots

Get a grip of yourself. It's only a plane, millions of people fly every year. Sounds good, but tell that to those impaled into various mountains, deserts and sea beds. There's only one thing that will calm me down. Alcohol. Sadly the nearest booze is stashed away in a Boeing 707 parked at Heathrow. We climb on the bus, "Yorkie" frantically trying to calm me down. More chance of winning the pools. Without going into too many details, by the time we reached the airport, a certain part of my anatomy had consumed most of the bus seat.