Chapter 3

shows up unexpectedly on the Saturday of the wedding? My Dad, mom, Börje & Inga-Brita (my sister) Bertil and Birgitta, they had rented a car and on the roof of the car was a dresser and a big home woven carpet, (from “moster” Frida). It was a nice wedding with lots of food and some booze but no one got drunk.In the evening we all piled in to the car and went to Gröna Lund, an amusement park were we tackled as many rides as we had time and money for. On the way there Börje who was driving ended up driving on the “sidewalk-boulevard” he got confused by the streetcar tracks and the trees and all the people so he took the wrong choice and ended up were people were walking and scared the daylight out of a lot of them, including us. Luckily no police were in the neighborhood so we got away with it. 
           I did go back out to sea once more, to England on a ship called “Utklippan 11” (2). It was the ships last voyage and mine. The ship got punctured, in the Oskarshamns or Västerviks harbor, when the longshoremen’s steel rod pick went through the hull when they removed the cribbing and almost sank right there. The hull was all rusted out. We had pretty bad weather going there, to Cardiff, with iron ore that really acts like a pendulum and makes the ship Penndel like crazy. Some of the  “interesting” parts of the voyage and perhaps scariest, was when our steering mechanism went “haywire” and we were going around in circles in the north end of the Irish Sea and we had a deck-cargo of coke to unload in Sweden. The coke was held in place by “chicken-wire”, like in a cage, both in the hold and on Deck. The somewhat rough sea caused the wire to rupture on the port side and we were headed for Sweden with a rather acute list, that is to say we were healing over to the starboard side when the steering went. The chief engineer and I were standing by the railing waiting for the steering to get back to normal so we could be on the way. We had just spotted a pair of shark fins behind the ship and were making some comments about them being so far north, at the same time we (I) also noticed something right below in the water beside us, a floating object about a meter away from the ships side, it had seaweed clinging to it so I said to the engineer: “what is that?”  His reply: “Holy smoke” that is a mine, left from the war that must have broken away from its anchor. I said: aren’t you going to tell “the Bridge?” answer: “heavens No they may do something stupid just let it be, we might be lucky that it won’t blow us up”. Well it didn’t and in another hour the steering was fixed and we were on the way home.
  I took the train from Oskarshamn to Stockholm and started to look for work and got one at a “state owned” restaurant (Sara krog) named “Hörnan”.
Next he asked: what part of Canada would you want to settle in? I didn’t really know very much of Cana   I found out when I got to Stockholm that Mariana had managed to obtain a one-bedroom apartment in an area called “Hökmossen”, south of Stockholm by about a 20 minute bus-ride. It was small, but it was new and well built apartment block in an area for low income families and built by the city of Stockholm and as we had very few bits of furniture it was “okay”. We were happy and considered ourselves lucky to have a home of our own. Solveig, Marianas sister lived with us for a short while after she gave birth to a beautiful girl, Gunilla who was a very beautiful child, she was unfortunate to not live more than 18 years, everyone was devastated when we learned about her premature death and she is sorely missed, still, after about  30 years. Mariana was pregnant and expecting our second child who turned out to be a girl and we named her “Eva Christina Desiree”. And she was beautiful as well and turned out to be another of our pride and joy. She was born on March the 7^th 1949. We did not have telephone of our own at the time so every half hour I would walk to the corner, a half block from our apartment to a “pay phone” and  phone the hospital to get the latest update on the progress of Mariana and the baby. I remember that Solveigh and her friend Inga-Brita were in our kitchen and anxious to know the outcome, each time I had been to the phone. Well finally I had some good news for them, that Mariana had given birth , around 8-9 o’clock in the evening and both baby and she were fine  and with that everybody hugged each other and we were delighted. I went visiting her after work the next day and was allowed to see the baby, who they (the nurses) brought out from the nursery for us to view. At the time I didn’t think newborn babies were particularly beautiful but she was mine so she was “Okay”. Her looks improved each time I looked at her. So in our small apartment we had two small babies, Roly, three years old and three adults, a bit crowded but it worked out. Solveig and Gunilla did not live with us very long; just long enough for her to decide what to do, about a week or two, to the best of my recollection. I was called in to do three months of military duties, it happens every five years for those who have been on contract and so called “permanent volunteers”. Mariana was sent to a sanatorium to gain strength and regain health after Christina was born. I do not remember what prompted the health officials to recommend that and I also don’t remember how long she was there, but I remember visiting her once or twice at a place called “Orhem”a bit outside of Stockholm, near an airport for “gliders” which were fun to watch landing and take off, it reminded me of My brother Bengt, who had it as a hobby during his stint as a fighter plane pilot in the Swedish air force.( He was killed while on a strategic training flight with three other planes and four pilots over an area called “Kolemorden”. They were all killed when all three planes went down in to the icy lake below them; it was due apparently because they were flying without instrument and on a “follow the leader” sequence.) Date to be filled in later. Once home both Mariana and our two “kids” enjoyed our life in our new “digs”, crowded and sparsely furnished. We took out a loan called “bo-sättnings-loan” and bought some furniture, a decent bed for two a table and a couple of chairs an “easy-chair” and an “Aga-Baltic” radio-record player, now we felt rich, gathered friends who came visiting now and then, And we began enjoying life, I had changed work place a couple of times, still developing my cooking skills.Opera-“källaren”, Restaurant “Frati”,” Källhagens Värdshus”, were the most important places I worked at, I learned a lot , these places were considered some of the better eating places in Stockholm .At the time of my being called in to the navy I was working at “Strand Hotel” , near “Nybroviken”, It was the place I liked the most but I did not return to work there because one of my workmates had a few “bad traits”, one he was gay and somewhat of a nuisance and he also liked to pilfer things and it made me feel uncomfortable. He was otherwise a “nice fellow” and generous so I rather than do the unthinkable, like turning him in or turning the other way, I decided to not go back and work with him, He was an excellent Cook and I learned a lot from him. That is when I went to work at Restaurant Frati, an Italian restaurant. I liked it there as well but one of my colleges suggested I follow him over to the “opera house” a restaurant in the  same building as the opera, it was named the”Opera Källaren”, serving excellent gourmet food, I could learn a lot there so I did. It was about this time I had a letter from “Harry Holm”, one of my “buddies” from the Navy, the same Harry I lived with for a short time in Gävle. He had decided he wanted to be a logger and was working in the forest in central Sweden doing some horse-logging. He said he wanted to go to forestry school and become a “forester” and would very much like to go to Canada and enter a school for that purpose. He wanted to know if I could go to the Canadian Embassy, which had an immigration office a few blocks from where I worked. About this time I had been talked in to go to work at “Källhagens Värdshus”, mainly because I could make a bit more money and also be allowed to work as a waiter on my “off hours”. Well the outcome was that I did go to the Canadian Embassy  and there were about three hundred people ahead of me all from central Europe looking for passage to “America”, USA or Canada as “DP’s or “displaced persons” ‘i.e.’  refugees’. I got to the counter eventually and asked my questions ;> What does it take to get to Canada?, what does a person have to do? What kind of documents is needed? Etc. etc. I was handed a few sheets of forms and asked to fill them in, in order to see “the main man”, a consul of sorts I took it. All he asked me was; quote: Are you a communist? Is your dad or has he been a communist? How about your brother is he or has he ever been a communist? My answer to all of these questions: NO.
da so I mentioned the only three places I had heard of; nr; 1 Montreal, nr 2; Winnipeg and nr 3; Vancouver. It occurred to me “I better play along with these guys or I will not find the answers I am looking for to convey to my friend up there in the “sticks”. He then told me to go and see a couple of guys in the outer office, they seemed to use the same desk and be working together. The asked me what I wanted to go to Canada for and what kind of work I was looking for. I said” I want to do logging or ranching” and maybe farming as this is what Harry Holm had asked me to find out about. Although I had written down all my jobs as a cook and as I was still reasonably young it was not uncommon to want to change profession, they accepted that. They asked about my health, my passport and my family and everything seemed to be in order. Passport and health certificates were in order because I had recently been at sea. Then out of the blue said: “go see that fellow that sits right inside the door when you came in”, give him this paper and ask if you are eligible to go to Canada  on the “red cross” contingency that is to leave from Copenhagen in a couple of weeks. “Holy smoke, that’s fast, way too soon for me, but I did go there and the fellow at the door said: are you Danish or German or Norwegian? My answer was of course “NO, I am Swedish. The reply was:” sorry that ship is only for people that has been “displaced by the war” so you have to go to “Nordisk resebyrå” vid nybroplan” and book your own travel. I returned to the two fellows I had been talking to and relayed the “message”. So one of them wrote something on a paper, handed it to me and said: “take this and go down to the “Nordisk Resebyrå” and find out when they have a ship going to Canada, give this voucher to them, it is only for you, you have to make arrangement for your family when you think it is convenient for them to join you. The ticket will include all travel expenses including meals all the way to Vancouver. Okay I was on my way. I went to the travel agent and they asked if I could leave day before midsummer, June 23/51? I said no, it is too soon. I had thought I would have time to get hold of Harry Holm and share my knowledge and experience with him, but I had to make up my mind in a hurry so when they offered a July 12 sailing from Southampton, England,  I said yes I think I can manage that.
That afternoon I went home to Hökmossen (it happened to be my day off from work) Tickets to Canada in hand. Mariana had some company; I think her sister Solveig or a friend, Linnea. They didn’t believe me at first but I had proof in hand. Mariana was a bit concerned and so was I, It was a big step and we hadn’t had much time to talk about it. It had taken me not more than two weeks all together. I had got to know a few people in the lineup, some Swedes and some Danes and a Finn and I think a Swiss fellow. They had all been coming and going for about three months and were still waiting for the “Okay”. O yea the fellows that arranged all the paperwork for me asked at one point, when I told them I didn’t have the money yet to leave ‘till November, I would have to save it up. They asked: IF you had the money; when would you be able to leave? I said tomorrow, knowing I couldn’t, I felt safe to say that. Then they said come back tomorrow morning. I did and that is what happened:, I got my tickets, I was told I had to pay it back by monthly installments to the Canadian Immigration ($27.00 per month a total of around $300.00). It seemed to take forever though). Now it was just to let everybody know what I was up to and to get everything ready for the big move. Mariana got stuck with having to fend for her selves and Roland, it would take me a while before I would be able to send any money to augment her living expenses and save some for her and Roland’s tickets. It turned out she managed very well and I had to admire her for it, she did better than I would have, of that I am sure.
     Eventually it came closer to the day for my departure, I had been working hard to save a few bucks for the trip, like putting in overtime at work, full time cook and part time waiter at “källhagens värdshus” and using my bike to get back and forth to work, and it was quite far, took about an hour each way. I had a very supporting wife during this time, as always, and she got some part-time work washing dishes at the restaurant that I worked in and sewing things for people Etc.
       I was to take the train from Stockholm to Malmö, the ferry from Malmö to Copenhagen, train from Copenhagen to Esbjerg, the ferry from Esbjerg to Harwich, England, train from Harwich to Southampton to finally board the Cunnard lines “Georgic” which would take me to Halifax, Nova Scotia Canada then a train from there to Vancouver British Columbia. The train from Halifax only was to take us to Montreal, Quebec were we would board another train for Vancouver BC.
      Mariana, Roland and Christina went with me on the train to Malmö and the ferry to Copenhagen. I think all my relatives saw me off at the train in Copenhagen, with some exception, those who said good-bye at the ferry in Malmö. My aunt and “god-mother” faster Eva was there to see me off and her daughter Maj-Lis, my cousin and a horde of others close to me. Quite a send-off I must say. It was all very touching as it was moments of anxiety and anticipation, after all, no one really knew for sure if and when we would see each other again.
      Well I got to the train in Copenhagen and was to share the compartment with a young Danish couple and their little (2-3 year old) daughter. They were also headed to Canada but apparently only going as far as Montréal. The little girl reminded me of “my little girl” that I left behind. Now I was wishing we all could have traveled together in to the future and the un-known. I realized I would have to become hard and materialistic. We had made a tentative agreement that they were to follow in 6 months and we would then be re-united. With that I settled down to what lying ahead. The big un-known was straight ahead. Well I was young, (24) optimistic and had a bit of the “adventurers” blood in my veins and was sure all would work out well.
         The journey across the Danish landscape did not offer any excitement; it was flat, lots of farms and a few cattle and the odd lake or small rivers meandering across the landscape. We had a bit of “getting to know our fellow travel companions” conversation. It turned out that my compartment companions were Danish and their name was Nielsen and he like me was a cook and headed for Montreal. (We ended up meeting again about 25 years later when he was visiting one of my colleges at work who had been his apprentice a few years earlier in Victoria).
     We eventually reached Esbjerg and had to head for the ferry for Harwich. I think we had to walk about 100 meters or so. The ferry ride was very uneventful. I did not have any travel companions so it was a bit boring and lonesome, it gave me time to do a lot of soul-searching and think about what I had let myself in for and about who I had left behind and if I had done the right thing. Lot of stuff went through my mind then. I still had my 35 dollar, so far so good but there were temptations to go and by coffee or a drink or something to make the time pass a little quicker. But I was determined to make it last to Vancouver because once there I needed to have some money for rent and food ‘till the first “payday”, and only God knew when that would come. Well I was on the way, “Canada here I come”!
      I cant remember how long the ferry trip lasted  to get to Harwich where we boarded a train that took us to London’s Victoria  station , from there I got a taxi that took me to Eaton square were I was booked in to a very low class of a “hotel”, it still had washrooms “down the hall” . I was, I think, on the fourth floor at the top of the building an old brass bed and a horrible mattress. I arrived there in the middle of the day and decided to take a walk and go see London. I still had my $35.00 as all travels, including taxi, was paid by “voucher” from the travel agent in Sweden. I will confess I never left any “tips or gratuities” behind me. At the time I was very “skinny” so didn’t require much food , even if I felt like it sometime I resisted all sorts of temptations. I walked in to down-town London, I saw “Piccadilly Circus, Trafalgar Square, statue of Lord Nelson, The strand, were I incidentally walked in to a sort of magnificent “Dance-Palace, without paying, as I got in I saw People in tuxedos and ladies in beautiful gowns dancing, the whole gambit of ballroom dancing, I concluded it was a competition as they had numbers pasted on their backs. Afterwards it was open to public dancing. Remember I couldn’t speak or understand any English so I was unable to inquire what the occasion was. I had a long walk back to the hotel so I left early, it was still daylight out.
    Early next morning, after a horrible night on a horrible mattress I called, (the hotel-lady who looked like a shore-woman or cleaning lady) called for a taxi to take me to the train headed for Southampton in the south of England. The train got there fairly early in the afternoon and there was the ocean liner that was to take me to the “new world”. On the bow I could see the name M/S GEORGIC  in capital letters. After clearing customs and shipping agents and ticket takers I wandered nearer to the ship and watched them load it with boxes, trunks, suitcases and a variety of objects going along on the trip.
   And there high above us was a loading net lifted by a crane, it had just been loaded with a bunch of trunks and large boxes and I didn’t believe my eyes when I spotted my own trunk, that was actually my dads and I had been allowed to borrow, It was in the sling, a big huge net, when it was abot100 feet in the air, it tilted and several pieces of the contents spilled out and landed on the dock. “my” trunk was one of them. Well they, the dockworkers reloaded the net and that was it. I did not see the trunk ‘till I got to Halifax where I found several items were broken. Nothing I could do, no insurance… oh well…


This is a picture of the “Georgic” My cabin was on the side that you can see here, on A-deck, just in  the white part of the ship and close to the stern, about half way, we did not have to go below or down any stairs, it used to be there were four of us in a cabin, one of them a young Italian “Opera singer” going to America” to make a fortune. We became good friends and he insisted I listen to him sing and be his “critique”. I never found out if he “made it”.
One of the other persons sharing our cabin was the opera singers “manager”, I never got to know him. I do not remember the fourth person in the cabin. I met a few  people on the ship but as there were only three other Swedes on the ship ( who I never met) out of 1800 passengers it was not easy to find anyone to talk to, so I resorted to write a bit of a “travel log” that Maj-lis rewrote  in proper Swedish, with grammar and all. The Danish couple that I traveled with on