Run 2708, Colonel Sanders & Duckweave @ Sanders Park, Willoughby.

SYDNEY HASH HOUSE HARRIERS
Jack the Ripper’s Run Report 13th May 2019 Run 2708
Gentlemen,
The Run : Your Hares; Colonel Sanders and Duckweave
The Boyz gathered in the park at the back of the Willoughby pub, many were early, excited by the hares’ promises of virgin territory. After 40 years, when will they learn ?…
The bucket was all set up, so some wags wanted to skip the run.
Away we went, a few checks in streets then the runners were into a park and greeted by hair Duckweave and encouraged to jump on the Slippery Dip ! yes there is a 25 metre slippery dip in a park in Willoughby, its down a steep slope. It is a pleasure to report that all but one of the runners went down the slippery dip, they are living proof that the Posh refuse to grow up. Some travelled at speeds faster than a speeding bullet and the camera shutter speed, (my excuse).. a couple were cautious and used their shoes to brake,.. Goonshow used Bucky’s back to brake !! Which created a neighbourhood disturbance of some magnitude. Captain Bligh went down headfirst, hope this is not indicative of his financial management of our funds !! ….. then off we went into the darkness. A visitor on the night from Californication Larrikin Hash called ‘Baa Means No’, (Definitely not a Kiwi where ‘Baa means Yes’); he is also known as Will and a navel officer, anyway he ran and could probably run for 2 days…fit as …..
The runners ran/ walked on lots of well marked trails, through parks, reserves, lanes cycleways and everywhere else, avoiding roads, especially busy roads, just what we Love !
A good winter run using known territory and linked together well
Young boys on a slippery dip ! safety
vests light up on camera like fire-works.
(be safe not photogenic)
We went around Artarmon Reserve and every park in the neighbourhood and a really good check-back which took us between some backyards and under the freeway and eventually home to a welcoming bucket.
The On On was at one of our favourite restaurants the Berempah on Willoughby Road, our hosts worked hard, their usual capacity is 34 and with our tables and chairs 44 squeezed, in though Bucky and some others had to sit on eskies and a couple left. the food was at its usual high standard, the chuiwauwa was a favourite. It was a pleasure to see Mr Neat, aka Long Chance, who is slowly recovering, he drove himself to the onon.
How many hashmen in the photo ?
Down Downs

  • Hares Colonel Sanders and Duckweave

Col Sanders & Wrappa for disrespecting our limited edition 2700
Mad Hatters Tea Party T shirts- Col Sanders gave his away to his
girl friend as a nighty!! (for a naughty !!)

Visitor – US Naval officer from San Diego, ‘Baa Means No’

New members –

Frank Topham,

Steveater (Adam Hodgson) Beijing Hash and

Talbot – the next generation of the hash

A big 90th to Hanoi- the world’s second oldest hashman – his
milestone certificate presented by the world’s oldest hashman
Baa Means No
Hares
New Members
Frank Topham, Steveater, Talbot (Sunbeam)
Hanoi, Hanoi at Nash Hash with S-Bends, Arbitrator, Bigamist and Galloping Tarantula
Sick Parade
Wombat is home again after a horse spittle holiday and we hope he returns to Hash soon The Colonel is in RPA Ward 6, having ‘Wilson’ removed from his lung, he will be recuperating at Mum’s at Snives for a week before returning to the far east on
.
FOR YOUR DIARY
Please note these dates :
Goulburn Weekend Away : May 24-27
Presidents Lunch: Sunday July 14
Past Presidents Lunch: Thursday June 20th Only for past presidents (and some very old members by special invitation)
Toothprick Downhill: Crosslands : Sunday August 18th – (coincides with the monthly walking group- in Payling’s monthly walk calendar)
AGM: Monday September 2nd
Upcoming Runs :
ERECTION RUN 8.00 am SATURDAY 18th MAY 2019
Run 2709
Hare : Grape Ape – Joint Run
Where : Pyrmont Bay Park Pirrama Rd Pyrmont
Suggested : Use your Opal Card on public transport.
Bucket : provided
On On : Pyrmont Bridge Pub (100 metres from park)
Breakfast at the pub, egg on toast $8, bacon ‘n eggs $10,
or the full catastrophe $16

Next Week’s Run MONDAY 20th May Run 2710
Hares: Ayatollah and Changi
Where : Waverton Station
This run could almost be regarded as a summer run in winter.
Plenty of off-road. A few steps, a little tar and plenty of nooks and crannies. Lots still to be discovered around Waverton.
Made for Opal card holders; the run starts and finishes st Waverton Station.

And Onon at Waverton’s super fine Bay Tandoori
Restaurant, opposite the station.
Although we’ve organised a Full Moon, bring:
-A GOOD TORCH
-YOUR PHONE
-WATER BOTTLE
-YOUR REFLECTOR SAFETY VEST.
Definitely run of the year!!
Abu Aktar
Ayatollah
Ed note : The Full Moon Hash is on Sunday, also at Waverton Station, (see below) so if you do
that run you could sleep on the platform and be early for Mondays Run
ON ON
JTR
hon sec
Darwin Don on Anzac Day with David Lynch, another para-trooper and former Poshman
Note We are missing one of our new ‘bucket’
eskies !!! Reward for returning….. !
Full Moon HHH Run 333 at 4:30 pm
Hares: Chuck and Icelander
Time: 4:30 p.m. Date: Sunday
19th May, 2019
Start: Waverton Station
Run Fee: $7

Run No. 2707 Simmo & Flying Virgin at Mosman

SYDNEY  HASH HOUSE  HARRIERS

Calicivirus Run Report   6th May  2019     Run 2707

Gentlemen,

The Run :   This weeks run report was written by, Calicivirus as JTR was in Byron Bay holidaying on hash funds.

Our Hares Simmo and Flying Virgin

A large group gathered at the oval next to Gouldsbury St in Mosman for what was to be a cold run. Temperatures have dropped quite a bit lately, but that did not discourage the pack.

A 6K run and a 4K walk, we were told, and they were actually 50% longer than that. No matter. Down to Balmoral, along the beach, up past Simo’s house and on up to Parriwi Rd, then it was straight stuff home.

We did, though, have a check and an on-back. They were for last week, though.

The bucket was filled with ginger ale, which didn’t please the mob, but the Flying Virgin thought it was good. He would.

Then it was off to the Mosman Club for the promised free dinner. I might add, 51 hardy souls turned up for this. A $12 steak was on offer, and we didn’t even have to get up to collect it. That’s called committee management, or prudential skill, hash cash said.

The circle was a little subdued due to being in a public space, but the President held court in the face of interjections and interruptions. DD’s were begun: the Hares, Simo and Flying Virgin. Khyber, Changi, Nomadic and Polish as returners, then Beefeater from the USA and Steveater from SEA.

God Knows’ memorial/wake was held and of course Pee Dub took the sandwiches and put them in his pocket to sell to his tenants. 

Wombat had the arse out of his pants and Dave was from Yarrahapne, or somewhere.

Then a birthday for Khyber who was named ‘çause of being a half arsed halfback. 

Goonshow made a good fist of reciting from a Les Murray poem and the Pres was outed for being at a candidate’s debate and of course asking Abbott a question.(crawler).

PDub’s joke was weak, so he followed it with another weak one ….something about Shorten being an arsehole.

Slack, he was stood up last week

On On

Calicivirus

FOR YOUR DIARY

Please note these dates :

Goulburn Weekend Away : May 24-27

Presidents Lunch: Sunday July 14

Past Presidents Lunch: Thursday  June 20th Only for past presidents (and some very old members by special invitation)

Toothprick Downhill: Crosslands : Sunday August 18th – (coincides with the monthly walking group- in Payling’s monthly walk calendar)

AGM: Monday September 2nd

Goulburn Weekend  

                        GOULBURN GOLF TOURNAMENT

  • Goulburn Golf Club

Blackshaw Road, Goulburn  Ph. 48218133

  • Friday 24th May, 2019
  • 11 a.m.
  • Cost $25pp  +  $30 Cart if required (Course is flat)
  • 2 Ball Ambrose     (N.T.P’s – Ladies and Gents)
  • Prizes – Galore
  • Names to Wanker;   beckoff@hotmail.com or phone 9412 1471 by 10/5/2019.  Maximum handicap 36 for men and 45 for Ladies.   Also advise if Cart is required as limited number available.
  • Get in quick.  Limited spots available in this much sought event at a top Golf Venue.
  • Please provide Golf Handicap (or estimate) lie detector may be used

            On On

            Wanker    (assistant green keeper)

Next Week’s Run   Run 2708  

Hares Duckweave and Colonel Sanders

Run Start :  6.30

Date: Mon May 13, 6.30pm as usual

Where: Reserve, Julian St., Willoughby, rear of the Bridgeview Pub.

Hares: The best that money can’t buy!

What to expect: Whilst the Hash might generally suggest that this area has been ‘done to death’, it is bloody amazing what 2 old and experienced hares can deliver. It can be suggested that ‘whilst the SH3 has been there before, they haven’t see it presented in this form. Virgin territory everywhere, ’cause the hares have swept it clean’.

Bucket: Yes!

On On: 75 mtrs across Willoughby, Berempah Malaysian Fusion where hosts Joe and Stephanie will deliver a 5 course gastronomic delight as ‘never before’.

And Wines: ( you may well ask). A range of fully imported reds of ‘substantial weight’, and varieties that most of the SH3 will have never experienced! Premium beers for ‘fringe dwellers’.

SO BE THERE otherwise ‘life will still still be the same’.

Cheers

The Col and Duck 

ON ON

JTR

hon sec

 On the right is Handshake, he was stood up last week !

the end

Run No. 2706 29th April, 2019, Slack & Hand Shake @ Meadow Bank

Rippers Run Report   29th April  2019     Run 2706

Gentlemen,

The Run :

Our Hares Handshake and Slick were at Meadowbank Wharf to welcome us; they were a little nervous as the restaurant next door which  they had booked weeks ago, was all dark, no lights, no people …….so they worked out Plan B just in case.

The Hares: Slack & Hand Shake

Handshake caused great concern when he announced the run was 8.5k and the walk 6.5k !

Shane Gould Rivercat

Shane gave us a great ride, she still moves through the water with grace and speed, we went past Olympic Park wharf and on to Rydalmere, the boys were getting nervous as Shane kept taking us a long way from home.  This sepia image of Shane smiled at all the crew

Waiting for the Ferry

Poshmen on the ferry as they sat in rows like schoolboys in class.  There were some real people on the ferry, interestingly, they all had No 1 haircuts  !   must be a westie thing, all the No1’s in the Posh are involuntary.

Handshake came with us on the ferry to direct us at the run start and take Darwin back as he was good for 6k, but 6.5k was going to be just 2 much.  Not sure if Centrepoint hitched a ride too …

The runners went off on a 2k loop along the river and back via fascinating factories and warehouses, returning to the start where they started the walkers trail.  The trail from here was along the Parramatta river all 6.5k to Meadowbank.  It was good to be by the river, no traffic, no muggings, no hills, no checks….

There were about 15 who ran/walked the runners trail, including new runners, David Zaman, Frank Topham and Taubman, a visitor introduced by P-Dub.

Le Petit Merde, Music and Changi were also runners.  Tic Toc, your Choice Bucky and Ripper hopped, skipped, ran and walked all the way.

Lightning described the run as long and flat and the checks will be in next weeks run.  The run was particularly well marked.

Back to a welcome bucket and still no lights in the restaurant!  A Lockout !

That’s a  First and a new Hash Legend to go down in the annals;  the booked restaurant stayed closed and left the Posh on the footpath.!  We’ve walked out  to the footpath before, but never been locked out !…. Well Done Slick and Handshake…. Its important that Firsts continue for us, harmless as we now are …

So to Plan B; off to The West Ryde Hotel.  A ‘modernised suburban’ pub with great staff and a good kitchen

 The meals were rated very good +, we had our own area and 41 Poshmen enjoyed the meal and company.   At least 6 postmen didn’t stay for the onon, unfortunate choice, but understandable.  

We went with low expectations…and they were exceeded.

Down Downs

  • Hares : Handshake and Slick
  • Visitors, Frank Topham and Taubman
  • Darwin the oldest and only WW2 veteran who marched in Sydney on Anzac Day
  • Maximus Minimus for his Birthday, an original Poshman, 51 Years Posh Hashing. and the man who brought us the 50 Year celebrations. 

Note

Darwin apologised for his absence next week, as a former Club Captain and Life member of North Cottesloe (Perth) Surf Club he has been invited, all expenses paid, to attend their centenary celebrations.  As their oldest living member Don will be attending the black tie dinner and his date will be the oldest living female member.  She happens to be 90 and is his ex-sister in law !  We look forward to a report on the event !

FOR YOUR DIARY

Please note these dates :

Goulburn Weekend Away : May 24-27

Presidents Lunch: Sunday July 14

Past Presidents Lunch: Thursday  June 20th Only for past presidents (and some very old members by special invitation)

Toothprick Downhill: Crosslands : Sunday August 18th – (coincides with the monthly walking group- in Payling’s monthly walk calendar)

AGM: Monday September 2nd

Goulburn Weekend

GOULBURN GOLF TOURNAMENT

  • Goulburn Golf Club

Blackshaw Road, Goulburn  Ph. 48218133

  • Friday 24th May, 2019
  • 11 a.m.
  • Cost $25pp  +  $30 Cart if required (Course is flat)
  • 2 Ball Ambrose     (N.T.P’s – Ladies and Gents)
  • Prizes – Galore
  • Names to Wanker;   beckoff@hotmail.com or phone 9412 1471 by 10/5/2019.  Maximum handicap 36 for men and 45 for Ladies.   Also advise if Cart is required as limited number available.
  • Get in quick.  Limited spots available in this much sought event at a top Golf Venue.
  • Please provide Golf Handicap (or estimate) lie detector may be used            On On

     Wanker    (assistant green keeper)

Saturdays Run –  Goulburn

Please note : A Bus will take all of us to the run start on Saturday morning and bring us home after lunch.  There is no additional charge for this outstanding service and seats will be limited to the number attending

Next Week’s Run   Run 2706  

6th May

Hares Simmo and Flying Virgin

Run Start :  6.30

Gouldsbury St and The Crescent Mosman

(parking in Gouldsbury St or in the underground carpark below the Mosman Club, entry in the lane off Gouldsbury)

On On : Mosman Club 

Military Road Mosman (50 metres from Gouldsbury St)

HASH BONUS – FREE MEAL  – For YOU

Yes you read it correctly, Your generous committee has forgone one of our many overseas trips on hash funds to provide a free meal.

This is the Committee which keeps on giving

As Jungle will say : “How do they do it for the Price ?”

            ……      it’s irresponsible really

ON ON

JTR

hon sec

SEX IN THE SHOWER

 In a recent survey carried out for the leading toiletries firm ‘Brut’, people from Chicago have proved to be the most likely to have had sex in the shower!  In the survey, 86% of Chicago’s inner city residents (almost all of whom are registered Democrats) say that they have enjoyed sex in the shower. The other 14% said they hadn’t been to prison yet.

  • the end

RUN NO. 2705 23rd April 2019 Vale Harry – Thank you & Bigamist’s Joint Run at Sporties – Boronia Park.

SYDNEY  HASH HOUSE  HARRIERS

Rippers Run Report   23rd April  2019     Run 2705

Gentlemen,

 Vale : Harry  –  Thank You

April 19, 2019

To the Sydney Hash House Harriers

I would like to express my thanks to all the Posh for your continued support for Harry and myself.

Thank you all for sending flowers. They are truly beautiful and greatly appreciated.  Thanks also for the many calls offering help and support.

I would also like to say a particular thank to so many of you special guys for your ongoing support for Harry over the last few years whilst he was at Pathways, visiting him regularly, taking him out for morning teas and running him down to the golf club. Your friendship has been amazing.

Thank you all so much.

I look forward to seeing many of you at Northbridge on the 30th.

Regards

Rosemary

Harry’s Memorial    30th April  2.00 pm   Northbridge Golf Club


Harry, Rosemary, a Galloping Tarantula and an OStrich hatted Mrs Tarantula at the races

Bigamist’s sermon from the mount

The Run :   An assorted group of about 75 runners, walkers and stragglers assembled in the carpark;  including Harriettes, Northern Beaches Wanderers, Larrikins and about 25 Poshmen.   Bigamist, your hare, worked hard,  he set the walkers and runners trails on his own  !  These days it can take up to 3 hares to set a run. 

The Gladesville Sports Club erected a special stone pedestal from which Bigamist lorded it over us and announced;  he didn’t know how long the run was however walkers who walked the runners trail would take longer than the runners.  So Profound.

Away we went :   The runners went off to Field of Mars, then rejoined the walkers to trek through Burrows Park and plenty of local streets, see the maps for the fine details, the runners were back in about an hour,  the walkers trail was about 3k which seemed just right for the night.

Map 1… X Marks the start.
Map 2, when you’ve finished Map 1 go to Map 2.

                                                                                            

Lizard with unknown soldiers on trail.

Hill of Grace brought 2 Knees XXXX out to play

– Captain Knockers and visitor Roger, (apologies for the quality of the photo however the camera got all misty at the sight of Captain Knockers)

Jungle brought his mate Roger from Melbourne for his virgin run

Starters included; Bumcrack, out and proud, Druid, Calicivirus, Your Choice, Duckweave, Flying Scotsman and 777.

The On On

The Club food was good, Steak special for $13 was hard to beat.   Yackity beat it with his 5 ringed Brontosaurus steak.  We shared our exclusive dining area with lots of other members, some of whom were very loud during the down downs,  Can you believe the Hash would find other people noisy !  Its supposed to be the other way around


Yakkity Yak fought with a  5 ringed Brontosaurus steak, and won

Smiley gave Down Downs to :

Lightning as stand-in hare as Bigamist had to leave early to rest.

Birthday Down Downs for

– Simmo  who was awarded his OBE last Saturday.
(Over bloody eighty) and 47 years of hashing

            – 777 who is a gold star committee man, and he organised the beer for his own down down

Jokes

Peedub told a joke and Darwin Don provided a toe by toe description of the defecatory adventures of a 96 year old


Anzac Day ; a couple of our marchers,  couldn’t find you Bucky.

 FOR YOUR DIARY

Please note these dates :

Goulburn Weekend Away : May 24-27

Presidents Lunch: Sunday July 14

Past Presidents Lunch: Thursday  June 20th Only for past presidents (and some very old members by special invitation)

Toothprick Downhill: Crosslands : Sunday August 18th – (coincides with the monthly walking group- in Payling’s monthly walk calendar)

AGM: Monday September 2nd

Goulburn Weekend  24 -27 May

Payment has been received for 60 Posh and Partners; hoping that includes YOU   (or pay Cap’n Bligh $80 pp before final numbers are provided to caterers).

Please note : A Bus will take all of us to the run start on Saturday morning and bring us home after lunch.  There is no additional charge for this outstanding service.  (Thoughts of – How do they do it …)

Next Week’s Run   Run 2705  

Hares Slick and Handshake

6.30 SHARP    – to catch ferry !!

Meadow Bank Wharf   Bowden St, Meadowbank.

Torches, OPAL Card

On On Medrock Bar and Grill  (close to wharf)

See hares promotion next page

Be there, for what will be a Great Run and a Great On On.

On On

JTR

On Sec

Run No. 2704 North Sydney E-Sh*t & Wee Willie (Incl. Tribute to God Knows)

SYDNEY HASH HOUSE HARRIERS
Rippers Run Report 15th April 2019 Run 2704
Gentlemen,
Hash, Chapter Eternal: Wrappa’s announcement of God Knows’s death timed perfectly to coincide with the start of our run from Lady of the Way. Fondly remembered by many as the longest serving Hashman. See separate Vale email and two articles on Harry at the end of this Run Report


The Run:
Your Hares: Mr Foes and Wee Willie
Not able to reach El Camino de Santiago de Compostela on the budget and time available, 45+ Hashmen seeking much needed redemption set out from Our Lady of the Way on a quest worthy of the most pious of pilgrims. Temptations were many, The Rag & Famish, The Commodore, The Blues Point Hotel, and yet they soldiered on, ignoring temptations of the flesh, shortcuts known to many, and the occasional harlot’s beckoning. No “Stairway to Heaven” for these lads, but rather endless stairs to mortify the flesh and purify the soul.
Were that not enough, our trail had to be sorted from those left behind by imps from The Harriet’s and Larkin’s, each of whom had recently run their own hash in the area. Inspiration came from beatific visions of Sydney, rumoured to soon be recognized by
Trump as The City of God on earth. About 7K for runners, 5K for walkers, and endless ascents and descents through the stunning environs of North Sydney and McMahon’s point.

Unfortunate Darwin Don, who upon E-Sht’s advice as to the start of the run, went to St Mary’s Cathedral, before a comely nun advised him to catch a train to North Sydney, from where he was obliged to trot to the actual start at the top of North Sydney where the one true church of Lady of the Way presides.

The OnOn: After a bit of delay, and saintly tolerance for the wait by hungry Hashmen, E-Sht’s and WeeWillie’s surprisingly delicious 7-course Chinese cuisine was served to everyone’s great satisfaction. Wee Willie was kind enough to bring forth a fine French Vintage which pleased us all. In addition to good food and grog, we were treated to JJ’s emotive recitation of Jungle Jim’s Bicycle (“Twas Jungle Jim of Sydney Posh who caught the cycling craze”..) and turned away the good old notes that served him many days. Much to
everyone’s edification, Kitty and Friends’ delivered an etymology lesson from the pulpit on the many uses for the word “fu*k. And we were treated as well to the always reliable, and always hilarious humour dispensed by PeeDub and TT.
Down Downs:
• GoonShow and Wombat for minor misdemeanours
• Jungle Jim, for his ongoing service as poet laureate for the Hash
FOR YOUR DIARY
Please note these dates :
Goulburn Weekend Away : May 24-27
Presidents Lunch: Sunday July 14
Past Presidents Lunch: Suggest Thursday June 20th Exclusive for past presidents (and some very old members by special invitation)
Toothprick Downhill, Crosslands : Sunday August 18th – (coincides with the monthly walking group- in Payling’s monthly walk calendar) AGM: Monday September 2nd

Next Week’s Run Run 2704
Tuesday 23rd April Joint Run
Hare : Bigamist
Run Start: Cnr Swan St and Ryde Rd
Gladesville/Boronia Park
On On: Gladesville Sports Club(Sporties)
$13.50 Steak Night
Humour:
The Mother Superior was walking down the hall of a distant, and ancient nunnery, when she spots a young nun leaving Father O’ Flannagan’s private office. Stopping her in the hallway, she says, “And what of God would ye be learning from that old rascal? He only
came to us recently, seeking redemption with saintly solitude after decades of running with the Posh Hash, a viper’s pit of fornicators, down under.” Quite flushed, the young nun replied, “Oh Mother Superior, it was a most blessed meeting. He asked me to part my habit, and said that there betwixt my legs, lay the gates of
heaven. And then he parted his robe, and told me that betwixt his legs, lay the key to the gates of heaven.” At this the Mother Superior startled, looked puzzled, and asked the young nun, “What did he say was betwixt his legs?” Upon hearing in reply, yet again “… key to the gates of heaven,” the Mother Superior bowed her head, and shaking it sadly, said “… and here he has been telling me it was the Horn of Gabriel.”
Credits
Impressed with the quality of writing in this run report ?
Don’t get used to it, next week it’ll be back to same old, same old
Thank You Castro, he was your Hon Sec for the night as the real hon sec was paddling his canoe home from Port Stephens :
and thanks to Tic Toc for some fotos etc …and Banjo Jungle for his recital repeated below:
On On
JTR
On Sec
Jungles Ode to Living Dangerously
T’was Jungle Jim, from Sydney Town, who missed his cycling ways;
Because he’d been in hospital for many weeks and days;
He packed up all his cycling clothes, resplendent to be seen;
He rummaged through the shed to find, his trusty old machine;
And as he wheeled it through the door, with an air of lordly pride,
A worried Mrs Jungle said, “Excuse me, should you ride?”
“See here, my girl,” said Jungle Jim, “from Wellington to the sea,
From Nabiac to Armidale, there’s none can ride like me.


I’m fit enough for anything, as everybody knows,
Although I’m not the one to talk – I hate a man that blows.
The MBR is what I love, my chiefest, sole delight;
Just try to keep me back this year and you will have a fight.
And anyway, I’ll take it easy, start the week off slow,
Farmer says its undulating and he’s the one to know!
I’ll ride a while on Annie’s bike for it has battery power:
And get myself into the truck if it once looks like a shower.”


T’was Jungle Jim, from Sydney Town, who went to Willow Creek,
He ate and drank into the night, looking forward to the week.
Some easy days to Gunnedah, the home of Miss Mackellar
Her poem recited in the morning by some eccentric fella
With many rides up hill and dale, he kept up with the bunch
And we all arrived at Tamworth for a welcome rest day lunch.
A quiet morning off the bike, drinking coffee and feeling fine
Then the lunch, great gourmet food, and maybe too much wine!


On the final day from Nundle town the weather looked like rain
So Jungle very wisely, put his bike in the truck again.
But what is this? The suns come out, never mind if the road is wet.
“I’ll mount my trusty bike again, and get a ride in yet!”
He turned the cycle down the hill and mounted for the fray,
But ere he’d gone a dozen yards it bolted clean away.
It stayed on track, and shaved the trees, he thought it was the end,
It whistled down the steep wet slope towards the dreaded bend.


It missed a bump by half an inch, it dodged a big white-box:
The very kangaroos in fright went scrambling up the rocks,
As Jungle Jim, as white as chalk, sat tight to every bound.
He reached New England Highway curve and tried to go around.
But slippery roads and drizzly rain caused his bike to slip
The result, a broken collar bone and a badly fractured hip
Twas Jungle Jim from Sydney Town, who woke up feeling sore:
He said, “I’ve had some narrer shaves and lively rides before;


I’ve rode my bike up Gloucester Hill to win a five-pound bet,
But this was the most awful ride that I’ve encountered yet.
I’ll give that highway curve its best; It’s shaken all my nerve
The final whistle through the air, the skid, the buck, the swerve.”
The bike’s at rest at Choice’s house, we’ll leave it there with him;
The SAG Wagon is good enough henceforth for Jungle Jim.
….with apologies to Mulga Bill and Banjo Patterson


God Knows
2 Articles on God Knows follow :

  • a brief article from the Posh 50 Golden Years Commemorative Magazine
  • an extensive bio on some of Harrys life by The Colonel, Stu Lloyd from his book
    ‘Tales from the Tigers Den’
    50 Golden Years Commemorative Magazine SYDNEY
    A Few Quiet Beers with God Knows
    Sidebar
    LowDownDown
    Birth Name: Harry Howell
    Hash Name: God Knows
    Hashtistics: Joined KL Mother H3 1958
    Founded Kuching H3 1963
    Joined Sydney Posh 1970
    JM 1971; President (GM) SH3 1984, Life Member
    You are probably the longest continuously-serving Hasher in the WORLD!
    When did you first discover you could Hash?
    Representing a major British publishing house I was posted to several Asian locations in the ‘50s.
    Stationed in Kuala Lumpur in 1958 my local watering hole was the famous Selangor Club (The Dog). Several Hashers dragged me to a Run and I haven’t stopped since—slowed, yes, but not stopped. What led to your Hash handle? In The Dog one night I was asked my Hash name. “God Knows,” I spluttered, over several pints. Have used the name to great effect ever since. What is the highlight of your Hash history? Founding Kuching H3 in 1963 while stationed in Borneo.. and I’m delighted to note it is stronger than ever. How did you find “people like us” to start Kuching H3? Posted to that fine city for business, I was also an officer in the Royal Naval Volunteer Reserve, and our first Hash Runners were largely fellow officer types.
    You’ve Hashed in many places and made many friends? Stand-outs?
    So many wonderful friends everywhere. In 1962 I ran with the very first Singapore Hash, “The Father Hash,” on the island, started by Chris Verity, Tommy Voice, and Ian Cumming. One other, John Gastrell whom I first met in Singapore, and who introduced me to “TinLegs” Bader, by the way, was a great mate and we continued in Sydney with The Posh (he was President in 1977). And, of course, Sydney Posh has been like a family to me for more than 40 years. What has been your most Hashifying experience? Probably rnning with the Los Angeles H3 up 1200ft, about as high as Gibraltar. Or maybe with
    Mother H3 in KL. We came upon a hidden Communist terrorist camp. Silently camping all night, we held ourselves close to keep warm! Next morning we found we were just ten minutes from home. After 15 years with my publishing firm, Boustead’s I came job-hunting in Sydney. One Monday I Hashed in Sabah, and the next in Sydney..changed career and country, but didn’t miss a Hash!
    You’ve entertained Hash troops widely (or is that wildly?) with The Ballad of the Death of Lord Nelson. Has his family sued?
    Claiming responsibility for this particular theatre is a Naval Officer on HMS Glasgow. I have continued his mentorship oh, only about 50 times. But not recently. Apparently hosts object to the damage to furniture, crystal, limb and even life upon the climactic conclusion of this act. Do you want to see it?
    Of all the songs, anecdotes and gags God Knows so well, what is your favourite?
    With a mind like a steal(!) trap, I have been fortunate to capture one or two, it’s true. But don’t start me “…And the hairs of her dickey di-do hung down to her knees, One black one, one white one, and one with a little shite on…and one with a little light on to show us the way…”.
    What advice would you offer to younger Hashers—those approaching middle age?

  • Show up regularly. Show some commitment, damn it.
    –With thanks to Hazukashii and Changi.
  • Harry Howell –  extract – From the Tigers Den by Stu Lloyd

India, Ceylon 1936 -1943,
Singapore, Penang, Kuala Lumpur, Kuching, Kota Kinabalu, 1954 – 1969.

Confrontation was on, and I think of something my father said in the services: Some of the wildest and woolliest outposts of empire was where you had the most fun.

Bookshelves, more than just about anything, give an inkling into the real person. And Harry, having spent much of his latter career as a publisher and publisher’s rep, has a mouth-watering selection of tomes that sum up his life, times and interests: the Flashman series, Raffles and the Eastern Isles, Noel Barber, a couple on Lee Kuan Yew, one on Chin Peng (the Malayan communist guerilla), and several on maritime history. Oh, and a ton of magazines on model trains.

He draws down Tales from the South China Seas, which covers Malaya between the wars: ‘I knew a lot of people there,’ he says in a voice which is distinctly English public school, despite having spent only one sixth of his life in the United Kingdom.

On the walls, water colours by his father: scenes of Singapore and Mersing. ‘My dad was something of an artist, he did all the backdrops for military tattoos. He never took the army too seriously which probably never helped his promotion prospects, retiring as a major.’

On a side table, a sepia tone photograph with a framed display case of medals. ‘My grandfather.’ Harry pulls out a photo album. ‘That’s him at Westminster Abbey. “Let them not be forgotten for they served India well”. I think that says it all. They weren’t ruling India, they were serving it, they devoted their lives to the empire.’

Suddenly I am in a real live Flashman book, Flashman in the Great Game, scrambling to hit ‘record’, because as a bonus I’m getting not only Harry’s story, but his family’s as well.

‘My grandfather was Royal Army Medical Corp, a colonel,’ says the gent whose white hair matches his Sydney Hash House Harriers T-shirt (more of which later), with khaki shorts and running shoes completing his casual attire for our mid-morning chat. ‘Dad went through Sandhurst then joined the Royal Lincolnshire Regiment. He did a two year secondment to the King’s African Rifles, and went and shot big game which was the thing to do in those days, pictures of him sitting astride a dead elephant, a dead lion, and all that sort of stuff. And then he went to India for a spell, met my mother there who was the daughter when he was the director of public health, United Provinces of India, between the wars. Which is a pretty big job: malaria, gutters, hygiene and all of that. They were married in London in May 1933 and I arrived in February 1934.’

Born in the shadows of Lincoln Cathedral, Harry was barely out of nappies when his family boarded the troop ship Somersetshire for Bombay. All of this is wonderfully documented in reams of meticulously ordered photo albums. He flicks open one. His

earliest memories are of Reja Fort. ‘I can remember Jacob House on the water front, opposite Oyster Rock at Kalaba, on British Army officers quarters. That was our flat. A three-storey affair.’

Other landmarks he remembers are the Gateway of India, and Victoria Station, ‘which is probably one of Bombay’s biggest structures to this day’.

His father ferried the family around in a Morris Minor, and picnics and sailing were always on the weekend agenda. The Bombay Yacht Club was something of a second home: ‘This is me, Bombay Yacht Club Christmas Fancy Dress, and I was dressed as a 10th Foot, the Lincolnshire Regiment in King Charles’ time.’ Speaking of kings, George V had just died, photos showing all — including Harry’s uncle, a dashing jodhpur-clad figure Frank Moore, who became a general in the Indian Army — resplendent in black armbands (along with solar topees, duck suits with spine pads, striped ties, and hand- made shoes). ‘The shoemaker turned up at your verandah and you put your foot on a piece of paper, he drew around it, and he’d come back a week later with a pair of shoes for you.’

After two years in Bombay, it was on to Nagpur in the central provinces for a couple of years. While the family upgraded to a Wolseley 10, a photo of Harry at Christmas 1939 shows a little boy with a train set, the start of a lifelong passion for model trains. An entire room at the rear of his house today is given over to model trains running through a precision mock-up of an English country town, and he’s still active with model train societies and publications.

Then it was six months in Dinapur, near Calcutta. ‘I was farmed out to the ayah, so at age of around four I was totally bilingual in Hindi and to this day I can remember a few words.’ He rattles off some phrases. ‘I learnt a bit of Hindustani, a few phrases, and if I talk to an Indian in Sydney today they say My God you speak it like a native. Because I learnt it from an Indian, not from a textbook,’ he laughs.

The Howells next found themselves on the northwest frontier at a place called Nowshera, ‘about 25 miles down the line from Peshawar. Real Raj stuff, going out on maneuvres.’

While a fridge was something they still dreamed of owning in 1941, mainly they ate European food ‘and local food mixed in, cooked by Indian cooks.’ Harry came down with a dose of dysentery and was hospitalised for a while. These days he’s most partial to a curry.

Not that the youngster remembers the heat bothering him, but the family would take a month’s leave in the hot weather houseboating around the lakes of Kashmir. The boats were around 50m long and palatial looking. ‘We had a cook boat towed behind. The boats were polled along. Boat people would come along and sell you flowers and jewellery. Relax with a few scotch and sodas – Johnny Walkers. A chota peg, a small peg. We’d also go trout fishing up the valleys, and we’d just say to the bearers, We will stop here. The sort of place where you go along on a horse along a path and there’s a thousand foot drop on the other side. The great thing was going out shooting snipe, duck shoots. A family outing – Come on, let’s go out and kill 100 ducks together.’

Harry occasionally went out on a tiger hunt but never saw one striped specimen.

In all, was it a happy childhood? ‘Yeesss, we had 12 servants! You know why? Because of the caste system: and the Indians are masters at creating three jobs where one job exists.’ He shows me a photo: ‘See you can even buy at the markets a little set of plaster figures, of servants. And you had the bearer who was the head of the household, a messenger boy, an ayah, a driver, a syce who looked after a couple of horses, a cook, who had an assistant, a gardener who had an assistant, a sweeper whose job was to clean the toilets – he was an untouchable – and a beesty who carried the water.’

All of this was happening just down the road from the Khyber Pass where the Great Game was played out. ‘It’s really a lovely country and here they are tearing themselves apart with some stupid war,’ Harry says of the current situation.

By now the Germans and Japanese were involved in their own Great Game, and the Howells were on the move again. ‘New Years Eve 1941-42 we crossed from India to Ceylon where Dad was CO of a Ceylon Defence Force officers training course. Singapore fell February and we thought it was going to be our turn next. [Japanese Vice Admiral] Nagumo’s task force came across the Bay of Bengal, thought better of it and turned around. They bombed Trincomalee and bombed Colombo, sank the Hermes. We went up into tea country, Bandarawela, where this training course was. I went to a boarding school in Bandarawela. Everyone went to boarding school, despite the fact that I lived half an hour down the road. All the kids were British, European. Headmaster was a burgher.’

Harry says he certainly knew there was a war on. So was there a fear factor? ‘No; excitement. The Aussies turned up at our training camp at Nuwara Eliya and made lots of noise.’

All European women and children were soon forced to head for South Africa. ‘But my mum and I escaped the net so we stayed there.’

They spent Christmas on their friend’s, the MacDonald’s, Canavarella tea estate. ‘Tea planters bungalow … not a bad lifestyle, eh? Beautiful country it really is. Superb, the hill country of Ceylon. It could be a tourist paradise.’ Unfortunately the Tamil Tigers’ separatist campaign continues.

The following New Years Eve saw them ship bound for India again. The Residency at Lucknow was the centre point of the Indian Mutiny in 1857. ‘Something to do with the Mutiny it was decided that the Union Jack would never be lowered over the Residency. The only place where the British flag flew 24 hours a day. India got independence in 1947, and they set up this great big thing about lowering the Union Jack and hoisting the Indian flag, so someone stole the Union Jack in the night, so to this day it’s never been lowered over the Residency at Lucknow,’ he laughs.

He remembers his parents talking about a troublesome fellow in the local jail called Gandhi. ‘And Dad was supposed to go off and join the 14th Army in Burma but he very conveniently broke his ankle about a week before he shipped, so didn’t go.’

Harry’s other abiding memories of Lucknow include the Dil Kusha, one of the moghul palaces and, um, a performing bear. ‘It used to make its living dancing at kids parties.’

So it was rather an exotic childhood, all told? ‘Yes, we were British in India. And there was this sort of thing of keep them in their place. There was this European cantonment, upwind of the bazaar, and all this sort of thing. I can get into long debates about the British empire doing more harm than good or more good than harm. The thing about the British empire is it bought peace wherever it went. Pax Brittanica, we called it.’

Heat made an impression on the young Harry here. ‘I remember in the hot weather they had this coir matting draped over the windows in really hot weather, and they’d throw water over it and blow air through. Punkah, which was like a carpet, and a kid sat outside and pulled it to keep the air moving.’

It also affected the seats of government. ‘For the hot weather which was May to about July, the entire government would move to a hill station. For Bombay it was Puna, Lucknow it was Nainital, with Nonintow Lake. Delhi it was Simla, Calcutta it was Darjeeling, for Madras it was Ootacamund. Lock, stock and barrel for three stinking hot months of the year. That would include certain elements of the army.’

December 1943 he was on yet another passage. ‘The P&O liner Strathmore in convoy with 4000 troops … one of the first ships to go through with families on it after the canal was re-opened. (He has transitted the Suez Canal five times in all.) ‘I am told the Germans were bombing Port Said as we were half way along the canal. There was a U- Boat alarm as we rounded Northern Ireland. Went to visit granny in Earl’s Court and I think there was an air-raid that night as well as the next night,’ he laughs.

He dabbled in football but, when at the age of nine, his father sat him down in a rowing scull, that was the start of a life-long love of rowing.

After the war his father was overseeing a transit camp connected with the Medloc Route for transporting soldiers across France from the Canal Zone, which saw Harry spending holidays with his parents in Toulon, the site of a large French naval base. ‘The officers quarters was a magnificent millionaire’s villa,’ recalls Harry, ‘but the exciting thing as a schoolboy was that that is where the French fleet blew itself up in November ‘41 to stop the Germans getting it. I’ve got a set of picture postcards Dad bought me in town of ten ships at all angles of explosion and god knows what. It’d be probably worth a mint at auction.’

Little wonder then that Harry has such a vivid interest in maritime history, and indeed volunteers as a guide at the Sydney’s National Maritime Museum.

Preparatory school in Surrey done, he then boarded at Westminster School for four years, followed by two years of national service with the Royal Navy.

Then something shockingly ordinary happened …

‘I got a job with Shell earning 170 pounds a year. I commuted to the city of London, caught the 7:25 every day to Paddington across to the city. I saw myself surrounded by people who married the typist in the next office, bought a semi-detached at Surbiton, and they all had their 25-year long-service badge and their only achievement was they never missed the 8:12 from Surbiton. And I knew there was more to life than that. I just had one thing on my mind – I wasn’t going to university, I wasn’t clever enough or rich enough – so I wanted somebody to send me abroad.

Is it possibly that he lived such a rich childhood in India and Sri Lanka that he was so restless in England? ‘Yes, yeeesss! The empire was the playground of the middle class. If you were landed gentry you were one thing, or working class you were one thing. In the middle … you’d go out and play. We were pretty good at it. Britain ruled India with 20,000 people. So I said to Shell I want to go overseas. It could’ve been to Africa, Caribbean. I wasn’t that fussed.’

He assumes a haughty accent: ‘Yes, old chap, but you haven’t been to Oxford or Cambridge … most of our chaps are varsity men. And I could see people coming down with Cambridge rowing blues being fast tracked past me. They said, There’s a jolly good career in the London office for the rest of your life. In about seven years time we might find a job for you as a storekeeper in the Persian Gulf. I told them what I thought of that and they said Well, old chap, if that’s really how you feel, may we suggest the following: they gave me a piece of paper with six names on it: Guthrie’s, Boustead’s, British Tobacco, Anglo-Thai Corporation, Borneo Company, and Harrison and Crossfield.’

Harry immediately wrote six letters, and scored six interviews. ‘The first one said, When can you be on a plane to Singapore? That was for ‘junior mercantile assistant’ with Boustead’s. Those were the days when it was not a job but which job. I’d been to the right school, I’d been commissioned in my national service in the navy, I was an active sportsman so all that stacked up. If I’d been the son of a truck driver I don’t think I would’ve got very far,’ he laughs.

And so he boarded the P&O cargo liner Glenearn in June 1955 for his first four-year tour of Singapore.

‘My first port of call was Penang. We berthed at dawn and the first sound of the East you heard was Hoooooooik, from the dockside,’ he laughs as he imitates a giant spittoon- filling motion. ‘I was taken off the ship by chaps in Boustead’s Penang mess and they said we’re going to Ipoh for the weekend. So we got in the car and got pissed in Ipoh. Next day I was put on a DC-3 to Kuala Lumpur, where another bloke met me, then drove down to Port Swettenham to resume my journey to join the company in Singapore. Meanwhile there were telegrams going up and down the country saying, Where’s our new assistant?’

In Singapore, Paul Shore, ‘one of the Boustead chaps’ drove him to the bachelor mess at 32 Nassim Rd, Singapore. ‘That building became the Japanese High Commissioner’s residence.’ Today, Nassim Road overlooking the Botanical Gardens is still very much foreign embassy territory, alas the mess made way for Nassim Mansions condominium in 1977.

‘Boustead’s paid not much but you got free accommodation. They also had a rule: no pay rise until you pass a Malay exam, which was pretty straight forward. I’m still reasonably fluent in Malay. Singapore was Hokkien: all I remember there was How’s business? And they’d all say Cha Bo Toh, not good, not bad, you never got a straight answer,’ he laughs. ‘What do you want to drink?’ Laughs. ‘Cha bo swee, Hokkien for pretty girl.’ Laughs. ‘Get fucked, and a few others.’ His face and forehead crinkle and glow pinkish with laughter.

Boustead & Co was established in Singapore in 1828, and kept offices in the Union Building on Circular Quay opposite Clifford Pier. ‘Bousteads had about three floors there.’ They were the agent for the port of Singapore for Lloyd’s of London. ‘That was a moneymaker. Some of our other agencies were Hennessey, Beefeater gin, J&B whisky, Ovaltine, Trebor sweets, Gillette, Delmonte canned foods – we used to sell a thousand cases of tomato sauce every month, International Paints – every time a supertanker docked in Singapore it was $100,000 worth of paint. They had two guys full time whose job was to go down to the harbour board every morning and see what ships came in overnight. And most of the ships were contracted to Red Hand or British Paints or International paints. Some were not aligned, so first one up the gangway got the business.’

Their official work hours were 8:30am to 4:30pm, and Harry was by now doing the sales rounds in his first car, a Ford Popular; ‘a dreadful thing’. He recalls Orchard Road as being ‘two-way with monsoon drains running either side which drunks would regularly put cars into. The streets thronged with cars, motorbikes, and trishaws, but it couldn’t have been too bad if we could afford to get in the car, drive home for lunch from Circular Quay to Nassim Rd and get back to work in an hour and a half.’

The early finish enabled him to become heavily involved in rowing for the Royal Singapore Yacht Club (RSYC). I used to row three or four nights a week. We’d row at about 5:30, for about 45 minutes then come back. You sweated off four pounds, and drank back three pounds! Gunners – 1⁄2 ginger beer, 1⁄2 ginger ale, a dash of bitters, slice of lemon. It’s a very thirst quenching drink before you get stuck into the piss.’ He’s since introduced to his local golf club in Sydney.

That year RSYC won the Far East fours, and the sculling championships in Hong Kong, their cox none other than Tourquand Young’s accountant, Michael Gurney, son of Sir Henry Gurney, High Commissioner for Malaya who was assassinated by communist guerillas in 1951. Harry and crew would go on to win these titles three times. ‘Somewhere I have about 35 cups from regattas in Hong Kong, Penang, Borneo and places.’ Photos show him being presented these by the likes of Singapore governor Yusof bin Ishak, and Sir Robert Black, governor of first Singapore then Hong Kong.

‘The club was at what is now Keppel Harbour … 300 yards inland, it’s all container wharves.’

Surprisingly there was also time for his beloved naval reserve. ‘We used to do one night a week naval training and two weeks a year sea training and the odd cruise as they came along.’

And, naturally, a young blade would always create time for the fairer sex. Often this would entail a white tuxedo, black bow tie, and somewhere like the Seaview Hotel (recently redeveloped into, yes, more condominiums).

‘They all had a band. Often they had well known stars, like Cilla Black, Herb Alpert. They were obviously doing the cabaret acts in Australia and they did shows on the way through. If you were feeling a bit poor or a bit sly, you could dress up and just go have a cup of coffee. No one asked a cover charge or anything, you’d enjoy the floorshow.’

A lot of the eligible European girls stayed in a big hostel at Braddell called Bradell Rise. ‘About 60 girls lived there. It was a great place for us blokes. There was the Hongkong Bank manager’s daughter, the local brigadiers’ daughter, the police commissioner’s daughter, the high commissioner’s daughter …

‘The routine was usually you’d go to a huge colonial mansion and dad would meet you at the door.’ Harry adopts a plumy tone. ‘Oh do come in and have a sherry. You’d get the once over, then told to piss off and have her back by 11 o’clock. One night I was taking out Jeannie Barton-Wright whose father was head of Shell. Huge mansion with a long driveway almost a kilometre long. I had this clapped out bomb of a car … rackety rackety rackety. Mr Barton-Wright said Oh Harry, do come in for a sherry. I’d like you to meet our house guests Group Captain and Mrs Bader. We chatted with them for twenty minutes.’ Douglas Bader was of course the WW2 Spitfire ace.

‘One snobby fellow, Mr Laidlaw Thompson, was a doctor and earned a bloody fortune – he had the right bedside manner – and his daughter Hillary was a gorgeous looking bird but, God, she was up herself. And when you took Hillary out you’d leave your car in the drive while the chauffer-driven Rolls would take you out for the evening,’ he laughs.

Boustead’s saw fit in August 1956 to transfer junior mercantile assistant Howell to another former Straits Settlement, Penang, off the west coast of Malaya. Penang was where Stamford Raffles had first started as a clerk with the East India Company, revolutionizing that place before turning his sights to Singapore.

Boustead’s office was on Weld Quay with its turn-of-the-century offices with godowns behind, near the Georgetown waterfront. ‘We worked 8:30 to 4:30 and went home for lunch. We were about half an hour drive out of town, we had 1.5 hours for lunch. We had cooks, so it was all laid out. We also used to work Saturday mornings from 8:30 till 12:30. Then we’d go to the E&O Bar, then pass out for the rest of the afternoon, then it was time to start again in the evening!’

The Boustead bachelor bungalow was a chick-blinded building containing a number of apartments.

Harry managed to save around ‘30 quid a month’ at this stage. ‘When I went on leave I could buy a new car, because when you joined the company, the company gave you 2000 Malay dollars which would buy you about a two-year-old Morris Minor, it also gave you about 600 dollars to go down to the local Chinese tailor and get a complete tropical kit.’

On the work side there were always Chinese dealers to entertain. ‘Dinners, endless dinners, some of them very drunken affairs. Chinese weddings. Dick Matthews was the Federation liquor manager in KL, and he met Freddie Hennessey off the plane and went on a ten day tour of the Hennessey dealers throughout Malaya, a different town every night, a Hennessey dealers’ dinner every night, pissed out of their bloody minds. Then after about ten days Dick – who was about 28 or 30 – said goodbye to Freddie and off the next plane came George Connor of King George 1V whiskey and he’d have to go around again. By about the twentieth day, he’d said goodbye to George Connor, walked into the director’s office and said, I’m a failure, I want to resign, I’m no good. Dick, he said, go straight home, do not pass go, and I don’t want to see you for a week. He’d drunk himself silly. But he fell in the line of duty.’

‘At Christmas you couldn’t see the chaps in the shipping and marketing department at their desks for free grog from the Chinese ship chandlers, and that was the basis of our party. We sent the invitations in early December for the party in January, so God help anyone that had a party in the meantime and didn’t invite us along!’ he laughs. ‘Good times.’

Each year had a different theme: among them Russian. ‘A great riot at the Boustead mess. A few went as people from the Bolshoi ballet, slaves from Siberia, we dressed ourselves in commissar’s outfits.’

The following year it was French. ‘This coincided with the Chingay Procession … I don’t know what Chingay was about but it’d degenerated into riots … and the police slapped a curfew on it from 10pm to 6am.’ Chingay is a Chinese procession, first staged in 1919 in Penang, involving carrying tall flag poles and banners worshipping Guanyin (Goddess of Mercy). ‘We had 100 guests. The theme was dirty dockside diving in Marseilles. People dressed up as French tarts and God knows what else. But at about quarter to ten we had to make an announcement and say, Sorry folks you either go home now or stay till 6am, there’s a curfew. A few people with small children pissed off, but others said, Mine’s a brandy and dry! The hardest part was at dawn. I said you can go home now. The party was written up in the Straits Echo.’

And when they weren’t trashing their mess, the Eastern & Oriental or the Penang Sports Clubs were their watering holes of choice. ‘The E&O was very much the place, they had a band on Saturday nights, and you put a suit and tie on to go there. St Andrew’s night piss up was held there.’ He pulls out a pic from the period of the gala in full swing: ‘Somewhere here you’ll see a breadroll in mid-flight.’

A few cafes also sprang up along the waterfront, the Green Parrot night club a firm favourite. ‘We made a lot of our own entertainment as well … a party at the Guthrie’s mess, party at the Hongkong mess and away you go.’

It wasn’t all just beer and skittles. They went for picnics on the reverse side of the island ‘where you drove up about a thousand feet, lovely waterfalls and things. Swim in the creeks. We also went on pig shoots, jungle treks.’

The culmination of a long push for Independence, during which the Malayan emergency raged and Chin Peng’s rebels stirred up chaos where they could, came on 31 August 1957. ‘The flag came down, they had a parade on the seafront,’ says the proud colonialist. ‘It was a normal thing, we never fought Independence. In many ways we were very happy to get rid of some of the colonies, absolute cost liability. Like it says in Lee Kuan Yew’s book, in the 1960s Britain gave independence to something like 38 colonies. One thing people tend to overlook was that a lot of colonialism was reasonably benign. They didn’t walk in and trample all over the place. They’d get things on there way, they’d get Independence and off they went. Practically no British colonies had blood-soaked wars to gain their independence. What’s sad is today how many of those ex-British colonies are better off than they were? Almost every one of them has gone backwards with corruption, incompetence. Shining examples are Malaysia, Singapore, then after that you have to start thinking. Would you rather be a colony and be prosperous – the man in the street with some money – or would you rather be independent and have the place an absolute bloody shambles? Of course some left-leaning people in our society today don’t understand any of that: Dreadful British colonialism, they screwed them into the ground and bled them dry … well, in some ways, yes, but it was a two-way thing.’

At Boustead’s they just soldiered on. ‘Changes in our passport status, a few things like that.’

Suddenly foreign employees had a new concern. Now it wasn’t their country to just breeze into any old time …

‘As a British subject you came and went as free as you like. Then after that you had to get a work permit stamped in your passport from the Immigration department. Some people even went for Singapore citizenship.’

Harry sensed ‘varying degrees of acceptance’ by the locals now that the handover had formally been affected. ‘At Boustead’s, 15 branches throughout Malaya were run by about 70 executives. Gradually we started getting Asians in to fill these positions. And we even started an Asian cadet training scheme, and sent some of them off to England to get a feel for it all. Firms were actually asked to submit an Asianisation program for their European staff. At Chartered Bank the attitude was, It was alright for the locals to do the trading but you can’t make a banker out of them. Hongkong and Chartered Banks dragged the chain on it, then immigration said to them one year, You have 25 Europeans running your branches throughout Malaya, you have two years to reduce that to five, and they bloody well had to do it,’ he chuckles.

For all that, Harry concedes they did not socialize much with the Malaysians. ‘We lived in very much a European world. But we worked and lived and travelled with the Asians, I got to know some of them pretty well. But neither side pushed it.’

Certainly fraternization with the local womenfolk was still institutionally frowned on. ‘You could be on the mat on a Monday morning with the managing director if you’d been seen with an Asian girl in the club on Saturday night. Some firms had a more flexible attitude than others to marrying an Asian. Today, who would give it a thought?’

For the final spell of his four-year stint young Howell was transferred to Kuala Lumpur in June 1958.

Tin dredgers, each about the size of a warship, dotted the landscape. ‘There were about 50 of them in Malaya at the time.’

Once again, he was billeted in the Boustead’s bachelor bungalow in Kuala Lumpur, where high-jinks were always near at hand. Their Saturday night routine was to go for ‘a feed and a fuck’ usually in the Batu Road area (since renamed Jalan Tunku Abdul Rahman), down the road from the Selangor Club. ‘One guy at the bachelor bungalow used to take out the daughter of the Commissioner of Police, have an expensive night out in KL, then drop her off with a kiss on the cheek as one did in those days, then go to Batu Road for a fuck on the way home,’ he laughs at the fond bachelor memories, more of which he shares but are not necessarily suitable for this publication.

And then, and then … his mess mates introduced him to Hashing. The venerable Hash House Harriers had its origins at the Selangor Club in KL in 1938, a way for the civil servants, planters and others posted out here to work off the weekend’s excess of curry and beer with a social run … and, er, then more curry and beer on a Monday night. This became an integral part of Harry’s fitness regime each and every week since.

Come March 1959 and his four-year sentence was up. With six months’ time off for good behaviour, he flew off on leave by Qantas Super Constellation to Europe. A Comet flew Harry via Beirut back to Penang in September to resume his second tour, this one of three-year duration.

‘My predecessor had been fired because he hadn’t been able to pick up on a Chinese warehouse manager who was fiddling the books and robbing the company blind,’ he chortles at the recollection. ‘It was a scam he had going, the poor Chinese fellow – he got in out of his depth, had to marry off his daughter, and with the Chinese face is everything and he had to throw a big event, way beyond what he could afford, so he fell for the old trap of fiddling the stocks. One of our biggest money makers was Ovaltine.’ And the scam? ‘We’d claim so much a carton for tins of dented Ovaltine, bashed around on the ship and not saleable, and suddenly our claims for dented Ovaltine were going way over the top. I always remember the letter he wrote to the manager: I have no face, I am a living dead man …. So I was put in to clear that mess up.’

Harry enjoyed Boustead’s in Penang, being a sizeable branch, but being away from head office. ‘None of the sort of petty politics you get in the head office of any organization.’ Lee Hock San was Harry’s boss here. ‘A splendid Chinese fellow, and he would get on the piss with the rest of us.’

If he could push the ‘pause’ button on any period of his Asian tenure, Harry plumps for these bachelor days in Penang. ‘Penang’s a lovely place, it seduces people. It was the old cycle of Old so-and-so’s been in Penang rather a long time, he’s got a bit slow. Let’s send so-and-so up to Penang to jolly the place up. A couple of years later they’d have the same problem. There were blokes I knew in Boustead’s, who were branch manager in Penang, who’d say I don’t want to be promoted, just leave me in Penang for the rest of my days. It’s a magical place.’

’Twas not to be. Within a year, head office called him back to Singapore, where he was put on the Slazenger desk, among other things, selling cotton. ‘This is me, promoting Surf Washing powders,’ he points to a picture of a dashing young fellow wearing washable trousers, long sleeved shirt and a tie. ‘Usually old school tie or regimental tie was the usual thing.’

He considers his toils weren’t very well rewarded. ‘We scratched along, but once a year we’d get a bonus, we’d blow most of it on a good night out at the Seaview Hotel.’

The nightlife for Europeans was divided into two: ‘If you wanted to be couth and take some girls out, there was the Raffles, the Adelphi, the Cockpit, Seaview, Goodwood Park or Princes. But then there was Happy World, Southern Cabaret and all the rest of it, away from the European ladies.’

He appeared as an extra in a Malay film My Son Sazli. ‘Cecile Parish who did PR for the film company rang me up one day and said Harry I want you to get hold of a girlfriend, put yourself in a suit, tell her to be in an evening dress, and be at Tanglin Club at two o’clock on Sunday. We were dancing, extras in a nightclub scene.’

Indeed he had a girlfriend. He was spending more and more time with a Veronica Thompson, who was working for the British Government, the office for Commissioner General for Southeast Asia, in Singapore.

Veronica’s two-year tour was up in January 1962. ‘And she went on leave after a great tour of duty, and my tour ended in September, with me rushing home to get married. Well it so happened in about June I did my two weeks annual stint with the Royal Navy on the frigate HMS Rhyl, and we played war games all the way to Manila and back. I happened to notice she was to rotate back to the UK when my leave was due and I said to the captain, Would you have room for a spare lieutenant under training? And so I spent five weeks from Singapore to Portsmouth, four day official visit to Rangoon, Trinco, then Aden, the Canal, Malta, Gibraltar, Portsmouth. I didn’t mind doing my share of officer watch at sea, but I also had to do my share of officer day in port as well! A lot happened there,’ he grins at the memory.

And so they were married in London, during one of the severest winters of the century, and their honeymoon was spent slithering across a snowbound Europe, catching up with old Singapore rowing friends in France and Switzerland. ‘My new bride was thinking, boy, how many more drinking mates has this guy got?’

I’m intrigued. Did marrying in England feel like a homecoming of sorts? ‘In a way, England’s never been home to me, because the hardest part is Where do you come from in England? I went to boarding schools, never went to the local high school, my parents retired to Henley on Thames. It was very convenient but to this day I can’t say where is my home in England.’

They boarded the Orcades in the Bay of Naples and spent the next three weeks going out to Singapore. ‘We were invited to tea at the chairman’s house to make sure Veronica was acceptable to make a good Boustead’s wife. It was a question of keeping up the company image for overseas visitors.’

Apparently she passed muster, whereupon Harry took up his new job as Boustead’s Sarawak area manager in Kuching, Borneo. Sarawak, with a population of less than 100,000 was then the world’s biggest producer of pepper, producing many multi- millionaires on the back of its trade. The town exuded a certain charm, what with its quiet streets, the Istana (governor’s palace) across the river, government headquarters, police headquarters, and most notably, Sarawak Museum.

The three-storey Aurora Hotel was the one main hotel. ‘Fairly scruffy in its way but it was the hotel.’

Married life ushered in a number of changes. ‘The company had to give you a company house as opposed to being bunged in a bachelor bungalow. I set up a model railway in the spare bedroom. We’d have a Chinese cook boy and an amah to look after us. I put on weight.’ Presumably from food purchased at the Ting and Ting Supermarket.

‘Particularly in a place like Kuching you made your own entertainment. I took one look at Kuching, which is 13 miles up a muddy river, there was 26 miles of road in the whole place, one nine hole golf course, and that was it. So we started a Hash in May 63,’ he laughs. After Singapore, this was to be one of the first of the mushrooming Hash Diasporas which would take hashing worldwide within a couple of decades thanks to roving and returning expats. Many of his mates worked for companies like HongkongBank and New Zealand Insurance.

He also took up golf. ‘Sunday in Kuching, you might be on the first tee of the golf course by 7:30 am no matter how big a hangover you had from the night before, play 18 holes of golf, have a gunner and a beer or two, finish golf by about 11, go home and change, then Whose house is throwing a curry lunch this Sunday? And we’d go to a curry lunch, with beer and gin, then coffee and liqueurs would come along about three in the afternoon. Go home, sleep it off, then put a jacket and tie on to be at the club for the movie at seven.’

Veronica, because of her security clearance working for MI5, got a job with the special branch of the Sarawak Police working for Roy Henry, who went on to become Commissioner of Police Hong Kong. She was in for a busy time, with Indonesia having just declared its Konfrontasi policy against Malaysia in January 1963. This was essentially a struggle for Borneo between British-backed Malaysia and Sukarno’s expansionist Indonesia.

‘I got to love Kuching,’ says Harry of their 3.5 years there. ‘Confrontation was on, and I think of something my father said in the services: Some of the wildest and woolliest outposts of empire was where you had the most fun. And Kuching could fit that description.’

On the work front Harry found he’d inherited a branch — total office staff comprising chief clerk, two salesmen, storekeeper and an office boy cum general hand — that was losing money. ‘I turned it into a profit quite simply by kicking a few butts and getting the sales moving.’

Communication with head office in Singapore was ‘as little as possible’ but via telegram and letters in any case. ‘One day I’d ceased writing to my parents because our baby was overdue about a month, and I didn’t want to write a letter then have to dash off another one the next day saying we have a baby. Next thing, the phone rings, and it’s the chairman: Harry it’s Allan here, are you alright? Yes fine, sir, why? Well your father is concerned and he got onto our London office because they hadn’t heard for such a long time. And it was about that time that Konfrontasi was starting to getting into the news at home.’

Their son Richard was born at the Kuching General Hospital, as was Jeremy (now a pilot with Dragonair in Hong Kong) two years later.

‘Within a month of Confrontation starting, all the Chinese towkays (bosses) downtown were saying business is bad because Confrontation has started. Three years later they were saying business is bad because Confrontation has ended,’ he laughs. ‘They had a huge trade trans-border to Indonesia which all stopped. On the other hand the British army would suddenly ring up the local towkay and say deliver 100 cases of tinned pineapple, or come and build a barracks for us.’

Veronica was in the thick of it with 25,000 known communists and sympathizers in east Sarawak. ‘One of my closest personal experiences with Confrontation, was when Barry Walker and I were recceing a Hash trail on a Saturday afternoon. There were only two roads out of Kuching — the main road was 100 miles of gravel to Simangan. The other went down 20 miles to the airport and that was it. We decided to go off the road and follow a little rubber trail into the bush. The trail petered out, so we turned around, and we were lost. We knew if we kept the setting sun to our backs we were bound to hit the road. Bashing through the jungle, it took us two hours to get back on the road. By which time it was dark and my wife had rung up the commissioner of police, who’d rung up the brigadier who was about to call out the gurkhas to go find these two blokes lost in the bloody jungle. Next morning I was hauled into police headquarters and shown a map of the area, with lots of red flags all over it. These are known communist hangouts, and do you realize you were right in the middle of three red flags?’ he laughs at his foolhardiness. ‘And that meant every Monday, every week we had to go and submit to the police headquarters the hash run for approval. We kept this up for a few weeks, then after a while the police got less and less interested and said, Bugger off.’

In between selling jam and pickles and razor blades, Harry was one day abruptly informed that he had to be agent for some Norwegian shipping company. ‘This ship was delivering 500 tons of phosphate from Christmas island, and the Hoi How arrived and she was anchored out in the stream and the ships’ officers all went ashore, and the first officer lost his footing and fell off the gangway into the river in darkness. Next morning I went into the Harbourmaster’s office and he said, Oh tropics, I’d say in about 14 hours the body will surface, and sure enough the body was found a couple of miles down river all bloated and horrible.

‘But then about a year later a rust bucket called the Nego Star came in with another 500 tons of phosphate. She was stuck on my hands for ten days while they had to fly bits of engine out from somewhere. When she was finally fixed up I went on board and did port clearance. I said, Righto Captain, ready to go. And he said, One problem, Harry, the chief engineer went ashore last night and hasn’t come back. So we got in the car, back to the office and the clerk said, Oh Mr Howell, Mr Howell, police rung up. Chief engineer dead. Prostitute couldn’t wake him this morning,’ he laughs. ‘The engineer was a 74-year-old Norwegian, died on the job, and left one wife in the Philippines, one in Norway, one in Indonesia and every one was saying what a way to go! So I became quite good at instant funerals.’

Undaunted, side trips to Sibu by boat were a fun distraction. ‘The Sarawak Steamship Company ship, Rajang, used to leave Kuching every Monday and Thursday night. We always had turkey for dinner and scotches on the upper deck, and liqueurs and coffee, and you slept the night and next morning you’d be 100 miles up the Rajang River going up to Sibu.’

Fishing here was done with a difference. ‘They threw some poison from a plant root in the water, and it stunned the fish and they’d all float and they had a ball collecting all the fish. It was a once a year thing, they got special permission.’

Harry also got involved in patrolling the coast. ‘The Navy used to run Konfrontasi patrols up and down the coast of Borneo and they’d have quite a few conflicts there with terrorists, as they called them. I would join a minesweeper for a four-day patrol as a watch keeping officer. There’s something rather marvellous about being on watch at night at sea in the tropics. Some magic nights, a wonderful feeling being up there. Sometimes in the tropics it was better to sleep on deck, long before the ship was air- conditioned. We found if you anchored about 200 yards offshore you were just out of range of the mossies. But the risk was if there was a sudden cloudburst, you’d have to roll up your bedding and get down below.’

Suharto coming to power eased the Konfrontasi policy, and in May 1966 the conflict was declared over.

After a short re-education program at head office, working on the Slazenger desk in Singapore, Harry was made area manager of Sabah, and posted to Kota Kinabalu for a two-year stint. He describes the town, levelled bar for two buildings during the War, as ‘very boring actually. A couple of streets of concrete Chinese shophouses. No style, no design to them at all.’ The ugliness continues to this day, with decades-old functional block-like shopping centres dominating the skyline.

The main attraction in Sabah was the beaches and the clear water and the scuba diving which they did a mile off shore on the coral reefs and things.’ (Now Tunku Abdul Rahman National Park.) ‘That’s what we used to do, put a picnic in the boat, stick an outboard motor on and choof off.’

On land, though, entertainment was done often at the Jesselton, a faux fin de siecle hotel, constructed post-war. ‘More so at the clubs for Europeans … we had a golf club, a yacht club –just a timber hut, cricket club. There was one restaurant where they served steaks on sizzling platters and things.’ These days, there are food courts, restaurants, and funky cafes and bars aplenty, especially along the buzzing waterfront promenade.

With branches in KK, Sandakan and Tawau, Harry had his hands full. ‘I have never taken the world of business too seriously,’ reflects Harry, ‘and for that reason was never made managing director of anything … but what a great life! I used to trot round them all once a month in a DC-3 and spent a night with our man in Sandakan, and our man in Tawau.’ The two latter towns had massive pockets of prosperity built on the back of timber. A good market for whiskey and brandy. ‘With brandies there’s quaffing stuff, then there’s XO at $45 a bottle and Extra which was like $90 a bottle. In Singapore we’d sell about five cases of Extra a month, whereas the other stuff we’d sell about a thousand cases a month. In Sandakan one timber towkay plonked a bottle of XO on the table and said, We will finish this bottle, and the pair of us drank this whole bottle of XO. Was I pissed!’

For all the frivolity, though, this period was perhaps Harry’s lowest moment in Asia. ‘We could see the end of the road for the expats …’

I pick him up on the use of the word ‘expats’. Was it in common parlance then? ‘Yes, we were all known as expatriates from the start. Always were.’ He continues …

‘You see the prospects were nil, you could’ve soldiered on in Sabah for another couple of years. The other thing was the difference in the locals. You asked did we get to know the locals, yes we did. We played golf with them, we did socialize quite a lot with them, and we found that the predominantly Hokkien Chinese in Kuching are a pretty friendly bunch. Whereas in Sabah the predominant race is Hakkas and even the Chinese will tell you they’re a miserable lot,’ he laughs. ‘We just never got anywhere with them socially in Sabah whereas the local millionaires and so on in Kuching we did get to know well. Very nice people.’

‘I remember my last few years there going round the high schools in KK and giving talks on a career with Boustead’s. Originally the idea was to join Boustead’s, go out there at the age of 21 and retire to a fairly comfortable pension in England at the age of 55. I was actually ten years too late for that, ten years too young. Then I came more or less to the end of the road of that two-year tour, no great promotion ahead of me, things changed … jobs for the locals, expats and work chop and all that. So I could see the writing on the wall.’

If this was some version of Hashman in the Great Game, the game was finally, sadly, irrefutably, up for our hero.

When Harry joined Boustead’s in 1955, of 70 executives, about 15 were Asians ‘and when I left in 1969 it was almost the other way around … there were about 20 Europeans left, but one by one we all moved on – half went back to England, some went to Australia, some to South Africa, some odd blokes off to Fiji or somewhere like that. So I decided to come on down to Australia.’ Today Boustead Holdings, headquartered in Malaysia, employs around 12,000.

While settling very quickly into the lifestyle down under, he found himself reminiscing almost daily about his Asian years. ‘The atmosphere, the colourful life … I suppose Asian food. Life was always on the go, something on all the time, a quiet night in was a rarity.’ But now, less and less. ‘I was in London and talking to an old Eastern mate of mine, and I said do you see many of the chaps from Singapore. He said No, I call them When I’s because every sentence starts with When I was in Singapore. I know my dad was unfortunately like that … he never left India behind. Retired to England but every day the conversation was, When I was in the Punjab …’

He’s not revisited Southeast Asia that often since. ‘For the main reason that when you’re up to neck in school fees and mortgages you don’t have time to go rushing off on jaunts. In ‘87 I came into a bit of money from my mother’s estate, and I took my two sons to Kuching. Had a fantastic time. It’s still the same old town. To this day I can walk into a certain textile shop in India Street in Kuching and still be greeted. Just that everything was a bit bigger.’

He’s blown through Singapore a few times. ‘It’s totally changed, huge … unrecognizable from the place I used to know.’

Tell us then, Harry, how would your life have been poorer had you not had that Asia posting? ‘I would’ve probably felt very restrained for the rest of my life. I would’ve enjoyed myself but it would have been dull. I just wanted to see the world. And I did that very nicely, and we had somebody else pay for it. We got the first tour four years with six months’ leave to the UK, always paid for, fares and all that, second tour was three years with six months’ leave, and then it got down to two years with four months’ leave. We also used to get a couple of weeks local leave, you could go to Hong Kong, Cameron Highlands or something like that.’

I put Harry on the spot. So where’s home now? ‘Right here. I’ve been in Australia for 39 years. Very happy where I am, no intention of going anywhere else, thank you very much.’ For the record, he and Veronica divorced some years ago. ‘I thought I was happily married until Veronica had a mid-life crisis and pissed off.’

Although he voices a strong desire to visit India, it’s one his current partner doesn’t share. ‘India is regarded as a man’s country,’ opines Harry, perhaps anachronistically. ‘India, the Raj, was populated entirely by British men not English women. Just the blokes went out to run the empire but then they say it was the women who lost us the empire.’

How so? ‘For the first hundred of those years, the voyage out, and the local climate, were considered too unhealthy for delicate English women, with the result that the Raj was run almost exclusively by men who took Asian partners with the enormous benefit of mixing with and getting to know the “natives” on a very healthy level, both at work and play. All that stopped abruptly around 1869 when steamships were able to transit the Suez canal and Englishwomen came out as wives and set about creating English compounds from which Asians were seldom included beyond their role as servants. I can recall my own wife simply not wanting to know a number of my Asian business and drinking mates. That was just considered the norm.’

We’re getting into a meaty area now, and Harry’s mounted his high horse; up, up and away!

‘It is now fashionable to say what awful people the “imperialists” were and how dreadfully we treated and ripped off the natives. Makes good headline copy today. You are asking 21st century questions about a 20th century lifestyle,’ he ripostes. ‘So I find my self being put a little on the defensive re modern day PC-oriented questions, to which the honest answers were regarded as perfectly normal in that day and age. Sure there were a minority of types who were insufferably pompous in the extreme, and talked regularly about “the bloody wogs”. I found them rude and acutely embarrassing to rub shoulders with and, to this day, maintain they should never be allowed out of England.

‘For the rest of us, we developed a lifelong respect for the Chinese and Malays whom we treated with respect, transacted business, and enjoyed many a drink and a laugh. Almost on day one I was told they were not Chinks, or Chinamen, but Chinese. We simply got on with learning the language and enjoying the life.’

Footnote: In June 2008 Harry celebrated 50 years of running with the Hash House Harriers, the longest continually running Hash man in the world with around 2,500 runs – and many, many more beers – under his belt. His Hash nickname is God Knows, as in ‘How old do you think he is …?’

Harry passed away on 15 April 2019. RIP, Harry.

This chapter is extracted from the forthcoming book ‘Tales from the Tiger’s Den’ by Stu Lloyd. See https://stulloyd.com

Copyright 2019, Stu Lloyd. All rights reserved. (Not to be reproduced commercially Please feel free to share this socially with all who knew Harry.)

17

Congratulations for reaching the end of the worlds longest run report

RUN NO. 2703 Gladesville Plunger & Not Nigel

SYDNEY HASH HOUSE HARRIERS
Rippers Run Report 8th April 2019 Run 2703
Gentlemen,
Reminder : If YOU haven’t already paid Capn Bligh, $80
pp for your Goulburn Weekend then Please pay NOW :
Hash BSB 112-879 Acc 154706831 and your hash
handle
The Run :
It was a hot night in April as the carpark in Gladesville filled with mature age men of amazing agility and girth. Plunger is known for tough runs, and it was tough love he gave us….. It was an excellent turnout, 48 runners including 3 visitors. Everyone was there including Bruce the Goose, Pedantic Circumlocution, Grape Ape, Wombat, Foxface, and XXXX . We missed Jungle, he’s still travelling around Australia showing them how to make better cement; one tablespoon of lime, one dessert spoon of water etc (He must make a mess of Di’s kitchen.)
Then we were off up and down local streets then around the new rehab centre which is massive and provides outstanding service. About halfway we got to the water and ran back along bay and riverside paths, past many mansions until heading for home.
It was around 8k for the runners, 90 minutes for old run/walkers who did the runners trail, and 70 minutes for some walkers on the walkers trail.
A good distance, we need a decent workout.
The end of daylight saving meant this was our first road run of the year, and many noticed the hard surface after softer bush trails all summer.
Your Hares :
Plunger and Not Nigel
Where we went, or where you may have been, in the ‘hood.
The On On
The Oriental Star was the venue, modern fit-out, traditional food. The boyz rolled in; the place filled up, they have never had 48 guests before ! More chairs found, finally we are all in …..and hungry….
singing starts….”Why are we waiting ?” The hares wriggle
uncomfortably and try not to hear…….
The restaurant has never before served a full house all at the same
time….The Boyz have been spoilt, all summer, by their Committee; the Magnificent Seven who have served food when they want, where they want and its been What They Want ! They have never had to wait,…. get used to civilisation boyz !
Finally food comes, Lamb, then pork, then something else; there is
quiet … normality…..All is forgiven..
Darwin and his minder intimidate troublesome
recalcitrants and restore order
Down Downs
Hares -Plunger & Not Nigel for the best winter run -so far!
Visitors –
Seedless from the Capital Hash –
Golden Shower – many hashes whose address is a station wagon
(and preference is Goonshow)
John – a neighbour of Plunger and Slick virgin run
Duckweave – for finding Gaida Coote with Pilko
Krudd- for some underwater kayaking
Above Seedless and Golden Showers which one ?
John Paddy
Humour :
Peedub and Tic Toc told jokes, Bummie (aka Bumcrack) read a
long list of chinese fortune cookie riddles which he found very
amusing.


Next Weeks Run : 17th April 6.30pm Run 2703
Hares : Rucky Dip and eshit
Run Start :Catholic Church, Corner Miller St and Ridge St; North
Sydney Parking in the church carpark off Ridge St and in the catacombs under the church.
On On : on site
Eshit has arranged for communion wine and old biscuit to feed us
and an ecumenical blessing from our favourite cardinal who is
currently having a little holiday. Rucky Dip is arranging a chinese
spectacular extravaganza gourmet meal with watermelon.
And we will all receive a special surprise gift.
Win this Champagne at the AGM for the best Run Promotion of the Year.
Promotion must be to On Sec 7 days before your run. (Prize still available; as no eshit received from eshit)
On On
JTR
On Sec
Greens supporter, if there is one, do not be offended, editor considers this statement applies widely in the political arena
The Four Stages of Life

Run No. 2701 Ayatollah, Jock & Capt’n Bligh at Deep Creek

SYDNEY  HASH HOUSE  HARRIERS

Rippers Run Report   25th March  2019     Run 2701

Gentlemen,

The Run :

Recent Heavy rains, threatening skies and 10 men away with the pixies on TicToc’s magical mystery mountain bike tour left us with only 30 hardy hashers ready to take on the challenges of our Hares; Ayatollah, Jock the Sock and Captain Bligh.  

The boys were challenged  !  in the words of ‘Yes Minister’ the hares were courageous.  Setting a run in steep bush country which was pitch dark from 7.00pm was courageous. 

Paddy, Pilko, Copra, Castro, Colonel Sanders and Foxface

It is great country and according to acting Trail Master, Le Petit merde, the run was ‘an oldie but a goodie’, he also mentioned there was a need for him to put down a lot of arrows.  The run followed the special path beside Wakehurst Parkway, then under the bridge and up a very steep hill with spectacular palms and tropical grasses, then into the usual eucalypts rocks etc, Runners did a 7k course back down the hill along the flat and over bridges across Middle Creek and Deep Creek and home.

Trolls under the Wakehurst Parkway

  Lost in the dark                                                                       And then they were found !

The “E”, Wee Willy & Ayatollah

The On On

We stumbled back to the On On and the amazing sight of the Spiegel Tent or Cirque de Soleil in the middle of the oval.

The Spiegel…

Peedub and his helpers had erected a huge green sky held up by an e-shit mast and illuminated by a thousand candles.  It was big enough to protect all our tables, chairs and serving tables, and it was most effective protecting us from the rain which didn’t eventuate.

The meal was very tasty little piglet pork ribs and day-old chicken drumsticks with great salads and potato salad.

It was a night where the fox was in charge of the hen house,  Smiley was off on the MBR and Lightning struck someplace else.

Our new President for Life, well for the life of the night, Wee Willie loomed large in the frame, he told us :

       – He would make the Hash great again,

       – The media was fake

       – There was no collusion

       – This one night was better than the first 100 days

       Wee Willie seemed to be in collusion with ‘Little Sir Echo’ aka e-shit who was up the back with a loud-hailer and some scrawled messages on used toilet paper……(e-shit paper of course) result …

messy.  The boys were bemused but still managed to provide helpful advice, especially Goonshow

Down Downs

       – Hares, Ayatollah, Jock the Sock and Captain Bligh

Wombat, Castro & SreveEater

       – Wombat and Castro for returning to Oz from Canadia and                        Chile

       – SteveEater a visitor from Shanghai

       – Captain Bligh for new shoes

       – Goanna for his Birthday and celebrating 26 years of hashing

Humour was wanting despite the efforts of Peedub and Wombat

Next Weeks Run :  1st April   Run 2702   Last Summer Run

Hares Foxface and Hoarse Whisperer.  (Jungle Jim was but had to pass as he is off to show Australia how to professorially mix cement to Australian Standard XXXX.)

Girl Guides Hut Bobbin Head Road, North Turramurra

          CLICK HERE FOR MAP

Bring : Torches, Water, Phone and DILLY BAGS

From the makers of Mondays Drum Sticks

 Hairs

Whine of the week

 Aldi has a MarvellousMendoza Malbec for around $10——-2016 Piedra Negra.

Deliciously dense with powerful aromas and a great deal of roundness—–Sounds like many Hashmen!

On On .

Phil Glas

 On On

JTR

Hon Sec

RUN NO. 2700 Cast of thousands at Armenian Club, French’s Forest

SYDNEY HASH HOUSE HARRIERS
Rippers Run Report 18th March 2019 Run 2700
Gentlemen,
Bigger than Ben Hur …That was Monday night….
At 5.30 they started arriving at the Armenian Club, French’s Forest, all 115 hashers, wonderful to have so many friends to share our Birthday and the Mad Hatters Tea Party. There was a beauticious bunch of Harriettes and a couple of hairy larrikins, Dr Sue brought a handful of Brazilian tourist friends; hope they enjoyed our indigenous antics.
The Posh got T-shirts and the guests admired them ! (it was in the fine print !)
Your Hares : Lightning and Moishe.
Lightning announced there was a run and a walk, he was prepared for rain, in which case he and Moishe would have been live hares . And we were off into the wilds of Frenchies Forest.
Pre Run Assembly
Plunger, the official run commentator at the ceremonials said the run was amazing it had some ups, some downs, and some flat
areas in between.
The On On
George, the diminutive chef at the Armenian Club was excellent, he cooked skewers of wallaby, koala and goanna, supplemented with traditional Armenian fare, it was a delicious meal.
Down Downs :
The hares : Lightning and Moishe
The Temporarily Infirm :
Lost Patrol, XXXX and Mr Neat. Welcome back men.
The return of Bigfoot:
Bigamist and Colonel Sanders found Bigfoot, abandoned as road-kill by Carefree and Kitty Litter, half way into it they nursed him back to health. Once again Bigfoot will work with discerning hares laying trail and being a regular hash hero.
Darwin Don Happy 96th Birthday
Special message from Wagga Rod and a cake presented by
Hell Raiser and Sex on Legs Fussy Not Desperate : Leaving town, going north

Then : The Mad Hatters Tea Party
This Tic Toc / Kitty Litter production was another outstanding production with the usual Posh suspects and Alice in Wonderland, Minnie Mouse and some.


Correspondence has been received claiming irregularities in last weeks run report of the 2012 run report by Major Disaster
Sir
As a dedicated reader of this worthy document, I like to ensure that
our members are indeed receiving an accurate replication of facts
tendered. re: run reports……02 January, 2012, in this week’s run report..
There was no run on Monday, 02 January, 2012. It was on Tuesday,
03 January, and was at Boronia Park, with the On2 at Il Bolognese.
I can find no trace in the surrounding years of the run mentioned in
the report.
I would never doubt the veracity or good intent of your report, but
will stand corrected if necessary.
Could it have been Mon 09 January, when we were at Mundowie Rd, Mt Kuringai?
Your dedicated reader.
CV
(Editors Note : This must surely be the first time that pillar of rectitude, Major D, has been challenged and found wanting. No correspondence will be entered into Major.)
Over ….


Next Weeks Run
25th March 2019 Run 2701
Hares : Ayatollah, Jock the Sock and Captain Bligh
Where : Deep Creek Reserve, North Narrabeen
(not Middle Creek or upper and lower middle creek as Ayatollah advised at the 2700th party)
OnOn : On Site: Captain Bligh will amaze us with his culinary creativity
Bring : DILLY Bags, TORCH, Phone and water


Coming Events :
Full Moon HHH Run 331 at 4:30 pm
Hare: Next Week and All Fours
Time: 4:30 p.m. Date: Sunday 24th March, 2019
Start: Car Park near to Naremburn Pizzeria
300 Willoughby Road, Naremburn
On On
Hon Sec, JTR

RUN NO. 2699 -11th March 2019 Copra, Cinders & Scotsman

SYDNEY HASH HOUSE HARRIERS

Rippers Run Report 11th March 2019 Run 2699

Gentlemen, Threatening skies held off for another fine nite. St Ives Showground is a wonderful venue, redolent with history of the Great Sydney Inter-Hash 30 years ago where 12 runs all finished simultaneously in a heaving mass of humanity and testosterone. Lurch set all 12 runs and he came along tonite to pay homage to his amazing achievement.

Back to the pre-bucket bucket. It was reported that more than 10 athletes refrained from leaving the bucket in case it rained or their cat was sick or ….! Our Hares Copraphilia, Flying Scrotum and Cinderella were in their prime, extolling the virtues of the run to the assembled throng. Copra declared it “one of the most fantastic runs you’ve ever seen”. When asked had he seen it ? he said about 16 times ! credibility problem ?.

Your hairs, foto bombed by Darwin Don (Gyppo parachuted in) This is where the bucketeers should have gone. These must certainly be the most detailed run maps and instructions in Hash history. Every Hare should study them.

The Hares taking instructions from Darwin

If we had a Van Gogh and Ernest Hemingway Award for Run maps and instructions, this entry would be the Gold Star. And Cinders in his precise way has had them audited, and their BAS and tax returns have also been completed And some fascinating places along the way, Phantom Falls, Whipbird Gully, Billys Bridge, Tree Fern Gully Falls and the Kuringai Wildflower Gardens. Scud liked the run, though he found the steps back up difficult, aside from that he said it was a perfect length. Lurch slipped on some pine needles and exited stage right. The On On Rosie, a close friend of Lightning’s who has a Thai restaurant at Terry Hills, delivered truly delicious pelican pudding and native quoll wings, with more rice and crackers than Lightnings horses could finish the next day.

David
Sweaty returnees

Where’s Dogface when you need him ? The meal was served however it was known that some were not yet in … The above, usual suspects, came in very late and wet, very sweaty wet. On the left is visitor David, (hope he returns) And at 8.10 quietly joining the crowd were Lightning and Goanna. Just proves : you can still get lost with the best maps. “Not lost they said !” There was plenty of food for the late comers and still seconds. Tic Toc finished his meal before we went home !

Down Downs : – Hares – Copra, Cinders and Flying Scotsman – Jungle Jim & Wee Willy for their raid on unsuspecting kiwis. – – Captain Bligh for driving an old car to the run – Scud with his new “Casanova” hair do -Goonshow for extolling the virtues of socialism but holidaying in yuppy Byron Bay- the home of the rich & famous!

A welcome back to visitors David & Frank and great to see Lurch 2 weeks in a row plus Grape back in the fold again! Birthday Down Downs for : Music Man, Your Choice and Ayatollah   Sick Parade : – Mr Neat isn’t so neat at the moment, but he’s got a long chance. – XXXX isn’t great either, he’s a bit of a clot

Next Weeks Run 18th March 2019 Run 2700

When 5.30 Be early to register and collect your shirt Note your shirt will be a Collectors Item to be worn with pride for years to come. (Some Hashmen will not wear theirs to preserve them for their grandchildren) Your shirt has the artwork of a legend, Tic Toc and from the china factories of Le Petit Merde. We are truly fortunate to have such talent and capability amongst us. Where : 3 Grattan Close French’s Forest

On On On Sec

Coming Events : Full Moon HHH Run 331 at 4:30 pm Hare: Next Week and All Fours Time: 4:30 p.m. Date: Sunday 24th March, 2019 Start: Car Park near to Naremburn Pizzeria 300 Willoughby Road, Naremburn

For anyone who cant sleep, try this : Major Disasters run report of 2nd January 2012 This is what happens to Hon Secs over time… memorial distortion and use of capitals.

Subject: MONDAY NIGHT’S SOMETHING TO DESCRIBE IT AS A MONUMENTAL FUCK-UP WOULD BE A GROSS DIS-SERVICE TO MONUMENTAL FUCK-UPS OF THE PAST STRETCHING ALL THE WAY BACK TO MOSES. THINGS STARTED TO UNRAVEL EARLY IN THE PIECE. SALTY IMMEDIATELY RECOGNISED THE PROBLEM AND TOOK OFF TO CHECK WITH THE HARE, THE CROOK CHOOK, WHO HAD BOOKED HIMSELF INTO EITHER THE LOCAL RETIREMENT VILLAGE OR THE LADY DAVIDSON HOSPITAL. ONLY MOMENTARILY IT WAS HOPED, LEAVING THE WANDERING TRIBES TO KEEP WONDERING. LEFT TO THEIR OWN DEVICES, THE PACK, RUNNERS, WALKERS AND CRIPPLES, SIMPLY SCATTERED. NATURALLY MAJOR DISASTER WAS A SPECIAL CASE. POLITENESS PREVENTS ME FROM SAYING HE HAS SOME SORT OF CONTAGIOUS SOCIAL DISEASE OR SUFFERS FROM EXTREME FLATULATION. BE THAT AS IT MAY, OTHER RUNNERS, WALKERS AND ASSORTED CRIPPLES GENERALLY AVOID HIM AND HEAD IN THE OPPOSITE DIRECTION. MONDAY WAS NO EXCEPTION. ALL ALONE, NATURALLY FOLLOWING TRAIL, HE CAME TO A CHECK BACK ALONGSIDE THE RIVER, BUT HIS SHARP EYES SAW FURTHER ARROWS BEYOND THE CHECK BACK, LEADING TO ……”FUCK-ME” YET ANOTHER CHECK BACK !! WITH THE RIVER ON ONE SIDE AND A STEEP CLIFFS AND ACCOMPANYING BUSH STRETCHING EVER UPWARDS ON THE OTHER, TO HOPEFULLY GO ON SEEMED TO BE THE BEST OPTION. BUT THERE WAS NO TRAIL FURTHER ON, OR EVEN FURTHER THAN THAT. TO CLIMB UPWARDS AND HOPE FOR BETTER THINGS HAD NOW BECOME THE BEST OPTION, SEEING THAT IT WAS NOW APPROACHING EIGHT O’CLOCK AND DARKNESS WAS CLOSE AT HAND. HOWEVER ! SOMETHING ELSE, NO, SOMEONE ELSE WAS CLOSE AT HAND. IT WAS “MOSES” PEDANTIC, COMPLETE WITH GUIDE DOG, WHO HAD ARRIVED TO LEAD HIM OUT OF THE WILDERNESS. “COME DOWN MAJOR”, THE ENLIGHTEN ONE CALLED, “I KNOW THE WAY OUT OF HERE, ABOUT ONE “K” FURTHER ON, WE WILL HIT A FIRE TRAIL WHICH TAKES US HOME”. THE DOUBTING MAJOR LOOKED AT THE ENLIGHTEN ONE AND THEN THE GUIDE DOG, AND THE DOG NODDED. SO OFF THE THREE SET. AFTER ABOUT HALF AN HOUR, MAJOR D WAS INFORMED IT COULD BE TWO K…. APPROACHING NINE O’CLOCK IT HAD STRETCHED TO TWO AND A HALF K, MEANWHILE THE GUIDE DOG HAD GIVEN UP AND GONE HOME. WHAT EVER TRAIL EXISTED, WAS PROBABLE JUST A BARE STRIP WASHED BY THE HIGH TIDE, NOW STREWN WITH FALLED TIMBER BUT THE ENLIGHTENED ONE PLUNGED ON, “NOT MUCH FURTHER”, IT WAS AFTER NINE, AND MAJOR STUMBLED ON SILENTLY VOWING NEVER TO WRITE ANOTHER ILLUMINATING STORY ABOUT PEDANTIC’S EXPLOITS, MEANWHILE PEDANTIC ALSO COMPLETELY LOST, STOPPED EVERY SO OFTEN TO CALL UPON DIVINE INTERVENTION OR THE GUIDE DOG FOR ASSISTANCE, MAJOR WASN’T SURE WHICH. -JUST DIVINE INTERVENTION DID INDEED RESPOND WHEN SUMMONED AND APPEARED OUT OF THE DARNESS IN THE SHAPE OF MONSIEUR LE TIC AND HIS GAFFER, GOANA. ARMED WITH HIS TRUSTY PHONE CUM CAMERA CUM TORCH, MONSIEUR LE TIC RESCUED THE FORLORN PAIR AND GUIDED THEM UP TO BOBBIN ROAD. MILES FROM ANY WHERE BUT AT LEAST ON THE ROAD TOWARDS HOME AT LAST. THE FINAL PART PLAYED IN THIS UNFORTUNATE SAGA WAS SUPPLIED BY “JUNK MAIL” WHO VERY GRACIOUSLY DROVE DOWN THE STEEP, WINDING ROAD TO GIVE THEM A LIFT BACK HOME. IT IS NOT KNOWN WHETHER THE GUIDE DOG ENJOYED THE CURRY AT THE ON ON. THE LEACH LADEN-ED MAJOR DIDN’T STOP TO FIND OUT BUT HEADED HOME FOR THE SALT CELLAR, Still awake ? C U AT THE 2700th

RUN No. 2698 Wrappa & Pilko at Ingleside

SYDNEY HASH HOUSE HARRIERS
The Ticcer Ripper Run Report 4th March 2019 Run 2698
Gentlemen,
The Run :
Our hares; Wrappa and Pilko
Wagga on a mission from God (his boss in Bris) found old 1967 rival, Lurch, and the two reenacted Run #10. No winner declared
Whiteshit brought along his alter ego just a shirt & half a short…but
he was BACK.
After triumphantly embracing the Trig, Triple 7 then sent a triumvirate of top runners to practise crucifixion hanging for the forthcoming Easter celebrations (Payling, Hoarse..and
Goanna). Mapper Wrappa produced a pretend route(map) that was just something to hold on the run..little detail. But on the up side the trail was excellently marked and featured fresh access in the first half courtesy of the boys’ trusty machetes, scythes & sickles.
However the trail did pass the spot on which we lost Garbage.. sad
memories for us all.


The OnOn beneath the familiar Ingleside scout shelter provided
the perfect setting for 45 hungry Hashers to enjoy Pilko’s Neil Perry
inspired grilled Tasmanian salmon, accompanied by his signature
salad of fresh vegetables, rice and pasta. Dessert of light lemon
cheesecake or chocolate with Australian grown ice cream.
In the absence of PreSmiley, holidaying on the Sth coast,
Lightning took charge, bolting to the dais. DDs for the Hares,
returnees Khyber, Lurch, Wagga (who the cuisine team Pilko,
Wrappa, and the indefatigable Molly. Also birthday greetings were piled on Your Choice and Ayatollah..who await the full
citations next week.
Capt Bligh is seeking the supplier of funds for the weekend away or
the 2700th from someone whose initials are IMB (but not Ian
Marvin Booth). Revealed that Mr Neat has paid twice ..which is nice.
Bunny was perplexed, but in good humor when he realized he was
among friends.
Humor featured His Holiness, and the one true church (PeeDub &
TToc) and a bundle of bon mots from Bumcrack.
Cardinal Copra concluded another first class evening of
debauchery donning his carefully tailored cincture and chasuble to advise that despite his uncanny resemblance to a certain church eminence He expects to be free to lord it over next week’s run.
..OnOnTT.

Up Coming Runs
Monday 18th March Posh 2700th Run- Pay now $30 !!
pay cash to Cap’n Bligh next Monday nights or pay online
to the Hash A/c BSB 112-879 Acc 154706831 + your
hash handle ..


Next Weeks Run : 11th March Run 2699
Hares : Cinderella and Copraphillia
Where : St Ives Showground
On on: on site ….. (I assume)
Copraphillia has advised the above comprehensive promotional information Bring Torches, phone and water and DILLY bags.
Happy Birthday to Wrappa & God Knows…seen here regaling
Northbridge Golf Club members with a fund of stories and
anecdotes. Also pictured less clearly is BTG’s NGC member’s
number that, had he been there on the occasion would have
provided him with a stack of other funds from the badge draw
(ouch)…
ON ON
Hon Sec JTR
Moving right along

The Posh Hash