Rocknocker: A Geologist’s Memoir. George Devries Klein

They organized a team of people who were still learning English, came from several cultures, learning the rules of a new game, and develop the necessary skills to communicate and achieve their success.

      While at Scotch, I was involved with scouting and participated in scout camp outs, learning some survival skills that came in handy later in life as a geologist. I remember one winter weekend going on a family trip to the Dandinong Ranges where it snowed. I used those skills to start a fire and a few other details.

      On weekends, I enjoyed horseback riding. A nearby stable rented a horse for 5 shillings (about $1.00 equivalent) for an afternoon and I rode with a group of riders. The group stopped after about one-and-a-half hours, watered the horses at a creek, let the horses graze, and enjoyed billy tea made by one of the stable’s staff. We then rode back. It was a great way to spend an afternoon in the out-of-doors.

      While at Scotch College, I enjoyed singing in the school choir. That interest and enjoyment stayed with me throughout my life. I sang in choirs in the USA until 1960. I still enjoy choral music today.

      My parents socialized with the officers of the Dutch East Indies Army in exile while living in Melbourne. Some made it out but left their families behind. Their separation placed a heavy burden on these officers. One, Colonel Wim Kniestedt, was a family favorite. He introduced us to the Dutch art of making a fruit preserve soaked in gin. He also told us numerous stories of his experiences growing up in The Netherlands and being posted to the East Indies (now Indonesia). When the war ended, he reunited with his family who joined him in Melbourne.

      The Netherlands East Army contingent in Melbourne formed a “Dutch Club”. They rented a social club on Saturdays and served “Rijstafel”, the national dish of the East Indies. We went every Saturday, met the other officers and their families (who had managed to escape) and generally had a good time. The food was clearly the best in Melbourne and made up for the dreary fare at the Scotch College ‘tuck shop.’ They also ran a Dutch language school for the children of Dutch service men. I attended, but it did not stay with me.

      I made my share of friends, but after leaving Australia, I lost contact. My good friend Gerry Kuecher put it well about growing up in a house of 13 brothers and sisters who moved on into the world: “Time has a way of estranging us from our loves” ¹. The same applies to people we walk with through life at some time, but as we move away and move on, we become estranged from them too.

      World War II ended in Europe in May, 1945 and in the Pacific in September, 1945. My father was promoted now to the rank of Captain, and in March, 1946, he was promoted to the rank of Major. He mustered out in July, 1946 and prepared to go to the USA.

      My father planned ahead to renew his business activities and printed special announcement cards. He mailed them to all his business contacts in Europe stating that he was moving to the USA to reestablish his business, and wanted to renew his relationship with them. He also asked if there was anything in the way of food and clothing or other items that they needed so we could ship it to them. I helped him by stuffing addressed envelopes with these cards and putting stamps and airmail stickers on them. Together, we mailed them at the post office.

      He started receiving replies after five weeks. Half of the envelopes were returned because people moved or died during the war. It was a sober reminder of how transitory life can be. The remaining responses expressed interest in hearing from my dad, doing business with him again, and provided lists of things they needed for their families.

      My mother then went to work. She always kept both my sister’s and my outgrown clothes including school uniforms. Suddenly, these clothes started disappearing to Europe. She either added some of her and my dad’s clothing or bought some. Then she bought canned coffee, canned milk, canned meat, canned vegetables and first aid items. These were packed into boxes, labeled and sent.

      When my father started his business in New York, it was very clear these people were only too happy to do business with him again and their gratitude stayed until he passed away.

      It was a valuable and unforgettable lesson. It taught me the importance of networking, maintaining a network, and being willing to do kind things for other people. It always pays. In my case, I mentored geologists laid off by large oil companies and completed my share of volunteer professional society committee work. It all started with helping my Dad stuff those envelopes immediately after World War II.

      My father left for the USA in August, 1946. He obtained a berth on a former unconverted troop ship, but it was the quickest way to get there. He went to San Francisco and boarded a train to New York. He established a new import/export business, starting over for the third time in his life.

      That too was a valuable lesson for me: never be afraid to start over, regardless of one’s age. I implemented this lesson several times during my life including opening up my present geological consulting business at age 63.

      My mother stayed behind, sold our home, and packed and shipped our belongings to New York. She booked passage for the three of us to travel to the USA in late January, 1947. That departure ended another phase of my life, this time in Australia.

      LESSONS LEARNED:

      1. When undertaking business networking, remember the business associates one meets are human and under certain circumstances may have critical needs. Be prepared to reach out and help them.

      The incident involving my father’s announcement cards to former business associates illustrates this well. Once he was open for business in New York, who do you suppose the people in Europe who received food and clothing from our family wanted to do business with?

      2. Never be afraid to start over, whether after a setback, a change in career, or a change in circumstances. But when doing so, stay with what you know.

       Chapter 3

      High School in America (1947-1950)

      Travelling from Australia to the USA immediately after World War II took more than fortitude. With Appy Van Roijen’s help, we succeeded in getting reservations on the M.V. Lowlander owned by the Port Line based in the UK. The itinerary took us from Sydney, Australia, to New York with stops in Tahiti, Panama City, and Curacao. We sailed on January 16, 1947. The trip took 47 days.

      The M.V. Lowlander was built in Italy as a freighter with cabins for 20 passengers. It operated on the Trans-Atlantic trade. When Pearl Harbor was attacked, it was off-loading cargo in New York and immediately seized as a war prize. The US Government turned it over to the British government which transferred title to the Port Line.

      Because the M.V. Lowlander was built in Italy, parts were all in metric units. Replacement parts were unavailable. Thus, we would steam ahead and suddenly came to a dead stop. The engineers repaired a damaged part or fashioned one in the machine shop. During these stops, the M.V. Lowlander bobbed in the ocean like a cork for ten to 25 hours. Such stops were spaced from three days to one week apart. The last repairs were completed at the end of February, 1947 off North Carolina in the middle of a “Noreaster.”

      Nevertheless, we made progress. We had an enjoyable shore trip in Tahiti, a scary experience in Panama City, transited the Panama Canal, reconnected with Dutch cuisine in Curacao, and arrived in Hoboken, NJ on March 3, 1947.

      Life on board ship was mixed. The passengers included six war brides heading to meet their fiancés in the US. The Ship’s officers socialized with some of the ladies and two of them got pregnant during the cruise. When we disembarked in Hoboken, NJ, I noticed both women tearfully explaining their circumstances to angry fiancés. I learned later they were sent back to Australia.

      The food was limited, served in small portions and tasted like most English food, namely not very exciting. I never had enough to eat. One day, while on deck, I noticed a crewman throw food overboard. I discovered that the crew, who ate separately, had better food and there was some left over. I negotiated with their cook to let me come by after each meal and get a second meal. They agreed.

      Consequently, I came to know the crew, learned what and how