My Story
 |
An autobiography
of
Robert Schaap
Index
Trip to Holland
Trip around Australia
Red Napkins
Safety pin
Tassie (fire on board)
This started all my writing
(A letter to the Prime Minister)
I am one of the "end of world war II celebration" baby boomers, born 14th September 1946 in Rotterdam, exact time was 7.30 am and from my health care card I know that I weighed 3.54 kg on 3rd October 1946. My grandfather “Opa Dopper” worked at the hospital “het Gasthuis”, so when he came to work that morning he was told about the arrival of his second grandson.
My full name is Robert Gerardus Maria; not my fault, my parents had decided on just Robert, but when my Dad got to the registry office he was talked into a few more names. Or so the story goes. We lived in the “Schommelstraat”(Swing st.) No.22 in Rotterdam for only 13 months after I was born.
The house still exists, but the whole street has had major renovation and when I visited the street in 1997 with my Mum even she could not be sure which house it was.
From there our family; Mum, Dad, Sister Rietje and myself moved to the Jasmijnstraat 29 in Utrecht, a slightly lager house with a “backyard”. Both of my brothers, Fred and Theo were born in Utrecht and we lived there, until March 1954.
About school it self “I can't remember anything at all” only the occasional time that we were late and the big wrought iron gates were closed. Yes you were locked-out after 9 o’ clock; whether we ever tried very hard to open the gates I can't really remember. Not a problem anyway, we amused our selves on the street, until we saw lots of kids on the street again, time to make our way home. But one day we were picked up by a policeman asking us why we weren’t at school, punishment must have been so severe, I have blocked it out of my mind. We were a bit more careful after that and did not get caught again.
Things were a bit different in those days. As little primary school kids we left home, alone, about 8.30 am to walk to school through town and we usually got home about 5.00 pm. I only got into trouble when I occasionally turned up from school after dinner time.
I really can not remember anything about school, I can’t even remember what we did for lunch. The strange thing is that I can remember most things about my schooling in Amersfoort, more or less from the day we got there, this was midway through grade 3.
There was a student teacher in the class and the first lesson was their continuation about millimeters, centimeters, meters, kilometers, etc. They had learned about that some days before, but I didn’t have a clue what the teacher was on about. The student teacher noticed my discomfort and she gave me some private tuition. (Maybe that’s why I always liked mathematics at school?). The regular teacher, nicknamed "Brammetje" who now lives in the same block of flats for 50+, or as my Mum says really 70+, impressed my daughter Suze, when in 1997 we went on a Holiday to Holland. As we met him in the lift he said hello to me and mentioned me by name.
Anyway I am straying from where I was, Utrecht.
There was one thing that really pissed my Mum off about that place. The septic tank for the toilet was in the “backyard” and needed to be pumped out quite regularly. That meant a stinking runner was rolled out through the house, leaking pipes brought in and joined together. After the pumping, those pipes had to be uncoupled and dripping and all they were dragged / carried out of the house. According to my Mum this always happened during lunch or dinner time. You can imagine what that runner was like, filthy on top, then rolled up so that the shit on the top gets smeared to the bottom and than it is rolled out again in the next house ”YYYYYUK”.
One other incident I can still very clearly picture in my head is my little brother Fred running over very thin ice across a creek at the end of the street. It was only the first bit of frost of the winter and I think only the speed at which he ran across stopped him from going through. Every footstep was a dark wet print on the ice. He had to walk a long distance to get back over the creek using the more conventional method of a bridge.
Maybe that’s why he sometimes thinks he is Jesus, he virtually walked across water.
I also remember the yearly street parties. The ends of the street would be blocked off, all the houses would have their flags out, lots of streamers everywhere. One of the activities would be a sprint race, and being the son of one of the top sprinters of the country I won that every year. Yes my Dad is one of those unfortunates who missed out on the Olympics due to the war, he would have made the Olympics in 1940 and/or 1944 as a sprinter. For some reason my running was never fostered. Although at school I would always win at sprints, the few times I went with my Dad to the Athletics track were not really encouraged, Ah-well I know now why I turned out to be rather lazy.
Again I can’t even remember my last day at school in Utrecht, but I can remember the last thing we did in the street before we all took the train to Amersfoort. It was winter and a few cm of snow had fallen. The “in thing” then was to run like mad and start sliding over and over on the same spot, until the snow melted / compacted, or whatever, and turned into a hard icy surface, so you could slide further and further.
The move from Utrecht to Amersfoort was quite a step up in the “social ladder”, from a rundown old house to a brand new flat, with a flushing toilet and a bathroom with a shower. We had the top floor (no I can't really call it the penthouse) of a three story block of flats, which meant that we had the whole attic as a hobby room.
My Dad was promoted from the shop floor, of an electric motor manufacturer, to the drawing office, and the flats were offered to some of their office staff, my Dad was one of the lucky ones.
On the above picture
11 That’s where we lived
22 Primary School (Catholic)
33 Sports ground
44 Tennis courts (skating in winter)
55 That’s where I worked (Krause)
66 In door swimming pool
77 Low area filled with water in winter for skating
Was I innocent or what? At my parents 12½th wedding anniversary, something dawned on me. My sister Marielle was one or two years older than the 12½ years of the anniversary, so I just blurted out that question "why, how come?". There was a house full of friends and family and my Mum told me quietly “Oh I can’t tell you now, I will tell you later, it is a secret just like Father Christmas” That was when I was told that my sister was fostered by my parents. I have never noticed that fact in anyone’s behavior, to all of us she was sister and daughter, and was treated just like the others. Only a bit later in life, her difficult years I suppose, she wanted her own identity and be called Marielle van der Have. That was made a little easier as she was not adopted, only fostered.
If she had known how much we would tease her about that, and still call her Rietje when boyfriends came along, she probably would never have started that.
After I finished primary school, my parents had great visions for me and sent me to the local High School. Well, I had other ideas, or rather I had no idea as to what I was doing there and I only lasted three months, to be kicked out as a useless and hopeless case. I was then sent to the Tech School and literally thrived, this was something I liked, top of the class all the way.
My tech school years were also memorable because we were in the first year of its existence as a brand new school, we never had older boys telling us what to do. In a matter of fact the teachers experimented with a lot of fun things for us to do, like disco evenings with the girls equivalent to the tech school and I must say our behavior has spoiled it for many following years.
My first motorized mode of transport was a point of contention between my Sister and me. She somehow obtained an old Moped and asked me to fix it. I tried, but "failed" to get it going. In the end she gave up waiting and bought a Solex, the type of moped with the motor hanging over the front wheel and driving that via what amounts to a very rough grinding wheel on the tyre. Low and behold the next weekend I got the old one going and claimed it as mine. You can imagine the rows we had about my inability to fix it until she bought another one.
My
first car was a throwaway from one of my dad’s colleges, a 1950 or there about
Citroen 2CV. It was parked in a garage and had to make way for a new car. With
a bit of help from friends I got it going. Just as well that there were no
road worthy checks on cars in those days, because it was a "Flinstone" car,
big rust holes in the floor. The paint job was done by hand, bright yellow,
the bottom of the doors black and the radiator grill red.
The bright colours must have made some impression in town, because some years later (Yes it lasted that long) when I spoke with somebody about my car, whilst waiting for some drawings to be printed, he said “Oh you're the one that drives the Panic Duck”. The nickname for the 2CV in Holland is “Ugly Duckling”, probably because of the way it waddles on its suspension.
Because Tech School had been such a success my parents still had high hopes for me and I was send to the Technical College. The problem was that the normal flow to that school was from High School, and academically Tech School was quite a bit behind, so although technically I was light-years ahead of the rest and actually assisted the teachers during drafting, tool making etc. all the rest was a disaster and after repeating the second year I finally gave up and joined the work force.
The first of those two years at college, a bridging year to try and get us up to speed academically with the high school boys (unfortunately no girls in my days), was held at an Architectural Tech College, and I have often wondered whether I should have stayed there, because most people who know me, know I am a frustrated architect, always drawing house plans, something which finally became useful when we did an extension on our third house.
When I showed the drawings of the extension of our current home to a long time friend in Holland on one of my trips he commented “so you finally build something like you were drawing at school a long time ago” I must say that even surprised me.
Dejavue or something like that but thinking back, yes at school my home plans always involved a large home in a very large garden. That is more or less how we now live. Very spooky.
What to do after I had thrown in the towel at school, I had not yet given it a lot of taught, so a brochure about an army career gave me the idea that this may be the way to go. I applied for a 6-year contract and was asked to come for interviews and medical tests
Well here comes the interesting part, bureaucracy at its best. While awaiting the results I was called up for national service medical tests. I have always had problems with my ears and although I could hear sounds very well I could not understand what was whispered to me from across the room. That resulted in me getting the third degree whether I had something against the army etc. etc. I don’t know why, but I said nothing about my army career application. The long and the short of it is; I joined the army for national service. But a month later I finally received the results of the earlier test and was turned down because of my ears.
That put the cat amongst the pigeons, I was called before the captain and asked why I never said anything about my application to join the army voluntarily, I was send for a third medical and after that I was discharged on medical grounds.
I then started with an electrical contracting firm “Krause” building switchboards, which was very interesting at the time, but I had my mind made up to become an electrical draftsman (that was politically correct in that time). I kept looking for an office job and a year or so later found one, applied for it and was accepted, it was to be half- factory and-half drafting. When I handed in my notice I was given a much better alternative. The draftsman there wanted to go to the shop floor to get his hands dirty, so I was offered a swap with him which I did.I stayed with them until my move to Australia.
While
I was with them the firm celebrated their 50th year of existence
and offered us all a 5 night trip to Paris. All travel, accommodation, food
and entertainment paid for, even the salary was paid for that week. We had a
great time and when we got back I told my Mum, “Yes I have some blood left in
my alcohol”.
Also soon after I started work my parents split-up, which was quite a traumatic event even at my nearly mature age of about 20. I had always looked up to my dad and wanted to do most of the things he did, I even followed him in his professional direction, electrical, as I mentioned before maybe I shouldn't have. At that particular moment when my Mum showed me his letter saying he wasn’t coming home anymore, all that came tumbling down. Having to cope with my own feelings and those of my younger brothers was hard at the time, but life goes on and we all learned to live with it.
One sadly funny coincidence is that my parents were nearly married 25 years when they split up. My mum remarried and very unfortunately her second husband Johan died shortly before they were to celebrate their 25th wedding anniversary. (I somehow don’t think she is going to try a third time). On a lighter note, it was nice to see, that on my brothers wedding in Feb. 2000, the two widows (my mum and my dad’s second wife) walked arms linked into the dinning room after the reception.
My Dad had died of a heart attack, the after effects of a large tumor like swelling in the head, at age 64 in 1983
I am jumping ahead again, we’re close to the big change in my life.
In 1969 my Mum received an invite to the 50th wedding anniversary of the parents of her best friend, Sjaan van den Aarsen. She had migrated to Australia in 1956 with her husband and four children, but kept in contact via many letters. As my Mum was by then separated / divorced she asked me to take a day off work to drive her to the reception in Rotterdam. And because they (my Mum and her friend) had so much to talk about and could not be separated we were invited to stay on after the reception to join them for dinner. My mum’s friend had brought her Daughter Jenny along from Australia, about my age, so of course we were put together during dinner. Well you can imagine what happened next, I had planned to go on holidays with my Mum and Brothers, but I told them to go alone so that I could show Jenny the sights of Holland and three months latter I went off to Australia and I married Jenny in Jan. 1971.
Can you blame me, I didn’t stand a chance
I think my Mum has forgiven Jenny for taking away the oldest male in the house at the time.
There are many stories relating to this friendship of our parents. My dad and Jenny’s Dad were friends since their primary school years the same with our Mums, and the four of them stayed close friends. At one stage Jenny’s parents were staying in a holiday cabin, apparently “close” to where we lived, so my parents decided to go and visit them. (No cars in those days), just two old-fashioned push bikes and four kids. It turned out to be further than they had imagined and my Mum stated, ”I don’t care how it’s arranged, but I am not riding all the way back today”. This provided me with my favorite saying, “I slept with my wife a very long time before we were married, not only that but with her sisters as well, not to mention her brother”. All eight kids, four of theirs and the four of us slept across a double bed that night.
The Mammas and the Pappas
An earlier story about our parents relates to the photo below.
The
photo shows that in the "good old days" our parents were just as silly as we
are now. In the chair my Dad and left to right Jan van den Aarsen (now my
Father in law) with a hedge cutter, then Aunt Els with a watering can and
Uncle Cor with ??????
My Mother in law was also present at this occasion, very pregnant with her daughter (Jenny now my wife) and she laughed so much that soon after Jenny was born.
I have to admit that Jenny did not make a big impression on me at that age, I was more impressed by her brother’s “Schuco”, or something like that, car set. Wind-up little cars, which followed a spiral layout all through the house. Especially after we found out that the right size rope / cord worked just as well as the expensive spiral.
First step, a biiiiiiiiig mistake. In my eagerness to get to Australia I opted for flying instead of a leisurely boat trip, I could still kick myself for that. Anyway I made it here and was bused to the Brooklyn migrant camp in Melbourne, which was close to an abattoir so you can imagine the smell. I must say I didn’t like very much of what I saw and smelled, so went for a walk to see what Australia looked like outside that camp. Luckily the walk didn’t take any longer than it did, because as I walked in, a car was driving out which stopped suddenly and out jumped Jenny. She had come to my rescue with her parents. And I was given the option to stay in the camp, or to come home with them. I may surprise you, but I said goodbye to the camp and my shared room in a NISSAN hut and started my life as an Aussie in Doveton.
I stayed for a couple of months in Chris’s room, who had just moved out into his brand new home. But it was not the right thing to live in the same house as your girl friend, so it was hinted to me that I start looking for somewhere to live. For about half a year I lived in a bungalow in the back yard of friends, not bad; living/kitchen area + a bedroom. The shower and toilet were in the house. Then came an offer for rent free accommodation, so I ended up in Frankston “house sitting” an old house which Jenny’s parents were restoring. A very nice area, the house was opposite a park and only a short walk to the beach.
One funny anecdote relating to the restorations involved the rebuild of a swing-out window;
Dad painstakingly built it from scratch and was very proud of this work. When it was finished, painted and all, he hung the new window and called his wife to show her what a great job he had done. As he pushed it open for the first time there was an almighty crash and his new window disintegrated in front of him. Yes I was the culprit, the window was over the drive and just too low for a car with a pack rack. As he opened the window I drove up the drive (my speed is being exaggerated every time the story is told) and the pack rack on my car just hit the bottom of the window.
Yes I think I have been forgiven, but only just.
Our
first “Home” after our marriage was a “bungalow” made up of two caravans
joined together with a small passage. They were set-up in the backyard of that
same house. It was very cozy and we lived there for about a year and a half.
Of
course we had to have a tree for our first X-mas together and luckily we found
one small enough. There was one small mishap which I get reminded about
every year. I was told to be very careful with all the ornaments because they
are very fragile. So I very carefully laid down the “peak” to grab a hammer to
do something and when I put the hammer down again it’s head just touched the
“peak” and it’s tip broke off. That must have put a spell on that dammed
thing, because it has survived the next 31 years. So I get to hear the same
old story over and over again as long as there is a willing ear to listen..
For
our next abode an old weather board home in Bemont rd. Croydon we had to go
way over our head in debt to the bank for a home loan of $8000.00 to be repaid
over 26 years. It felt as if we signed our life away. But finally a real home
to raise a family and Ron and Mike came along soon after.
The arrival of Suz put an end to the spare room and when Adam announced his imminent arrival we realized that the house was shrinking, time to look elsewhere. Adam was also born while we still lived there, but a few weeks later we moved to a four bed room plus rumpus brick house in Judith Ave Boronia. We all had a great time there, but I started to realize that one day I had to retire and without a decent garage or workshop I would be forever in Jenny’s way in the house. So we started to look for something with a bit more space around the house.
Of course we were not in a hurry, so when I finally found 51 Bayview Crescent, we were very surprised that our rather low offer was accepted. After many different plans on how to extend the house we finally decided to go up, over the carport. And if I may say so myself the end result is rather good. So good in fact that we have no intention to ever move again, until it is time for a retirement village.
Not much unemployment in those early days, I went to work just a couple of days after landing in Australia. Jenny's parents had already organized that for me, no freeloaders in their house. I started work with a friend of theirs Rini Pinkst, who was a foreman at Breamar. My job was to operate sheet metal machinery making heaters and hot water services.
That didn't last very long, fortunately an other friend of the family Bert de Lange was foreman at Mc Coll Electric and there I fell with my nose in the butter, more or less where I left off in Holland, building switchboards / control panels. I slowly worked my way up via the electronics department, the test department and then the drawing office whilst I did the TAFE course. I was with Mc Coll for 13 years, I learned much and as it worked out laid the contacts for all my future work. Just about everywhere I worked, and later with most of my clients, there was somehow a connection to Mc Coll. I finally had to leave them to be accepted as an electrical engineer elsewhere, which was at Deutz. During my time at Deutz we decided that the time was right to do our big trip around Australia (see holidays). When we finally came back from our three month holiday the generator department had gone down the gurgler and I was laid off. Not a big problem at all, I decided to become a contract draftsman. My first phone call to let an other ex Mc Coll engineer, Horst Schmidt, know that I was available returned the answer, "yes I would like you to work for us , but full time". Thus I started at Wampfler as a service engineer, looking after PILLER UPS (Un-interruptible Power Supplies).
About a year later, a friend I got to know while at Deutz told me he was sick of working alone. He made Diesel Control Panels from home. It looked too good an opportunity to miss, so I suggested we try to make a go of it together. That was the start of my being self employed. We did quite alright, but it was difficult to balance the work load. We sometimes had to knock back jobs because they were too big because we did not want to take on employees. Too many hassles. So after a large job, nearly too big, but with a nice profit we decided that this balancing was too difficult and we went our separate ways again. I now really started to do contract drafting. And today in 2003 I am still doing that.
One of the more interesting projects was helping design and do nearly all the drawings for an Australian designed Ground Power Unit. A mobile power supply for aircraft. That was, and still is as I am writing this, very challenging and interesting because it was mainly mechanical, not electrical.
Soon after I started this contracting Horst, still at Wampfler, asked me to do a little bit of work for him, and, some 15 years later and having gone through all their highs and lows and many changes, I finally left that company and started full time at APM the Ground Power Unit place.
Some memories of the many holidays;
- Trip to Holland with three kids
Our first big trip was as a result of some comment about my maternal grandmother, “Oma Dopper”. She was a great and very nice Lady. Jenny only met her once during her earlier trip to Holland with her mother (see Boy meets girl) and was also quite taken with her. My Grandmother was getting on in age and we felt that it would be nice for my grandmother (whom our daughter is called after) to see her great grand children. It was a toss up, a new car or my grandmother, she won of course.
As you can imagine that trip took some organizing, three little kids on a plane for some 30 hours! We were welcomed at Schiphol by the whole clan, my brothers Fred & Theo with wives and children, my Mum with Johan and My Dad with Tiny and Eric. This occasion was the first time my parents met after their divorce. Understandably it was a little bit difficult at first, but it worked out OK. My Dad had organized a car for us via his work, a VW Polo, which came in very handy.
All five of us slept in the old “Big” bedroom which I used to share with Fred and Theo. It was good to see the old place again, most of the neighbors were still there, so there was plenty to talk about.
Our first outing was with Fred and family to the “Efteling”, an enchanted Theme Park where all the old fairy tales were enacted. There was Little red riding hood, Hansel and Gretel, Peter Pan etc etc. A great day for the children. Of course we had to go and see Madurodam, a miniature city, near Scheveningen, with miniature replicas of all the important buildings of Holland. There were many family visits and of course a visit to my Grandmother. In our excitement we forgot to take a photo of Oma and her great grand daughter.
Then, and understandably my Mum did not like that very much, we went to my Dad’s place in Helmond for a couple of weeks. Through his work he had a flat in Switzerland, near Zurich, so we also went there for a week. That was a good day fast driving on the German autobahns. The kids enjoyed one of the signs everywhere on the side of the road in Germany “AUSFART”, they had a good giggle every time we went past a freeway exit. During our time in Switzerland we went through the Gotthart tunnel to the Italian side of Switzerland and attempted to return via the pass over the top. Too much snow unfortunately, so back again through the tunnel. This was the first time our kids saw snow, so that was quite an experience.
On the way back from Helmond to Amersfoort we did a bit of a detour through Zeeland to see the “Delta Works”. Enormous dykes to protect that island Province from the sometimes very wild North Sea. On to Jenny’s family in and near Rotterdam to visit Jan & Riet, Jenny’s Aunt and we stayed the night with her other Aunt Leny.
After we settled down again for a couple of days with my Mum we left the three kid with her and Johan and the two of us took of to London for the weekend. The boat trip from Hoek van Holland to Harwich was very rough, the movement would have put me to sleep if it wasn’t for a loose serving trolley somewhere which kept rolling back and forth banging in the wall every time. It was good to speak and hear English again and like true Aussies we stayed the night in a Hotel in Earls Court. We did all the touristy bits of course, the Tower, Trafalgar Square the Palace etc. And it was also nice to be alone together for a while.
For the trip back to Schiphol we hired a VW bus and somehow managed to cram 8 adults and 7 kids plus all our luggage in that little bus. But it was a lot of fun which was just as well to cover the sadness of saying goodbye again.
Well we made it home again and very happy we were to be back, some 10 months later Adam was born.
- Trip around Australlia
OOur second big trip was a three months trip around the western half of Australia, see the map below.
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The heavy line is our route and the dotted line is Europe drawn in the same scale to show our Dutch relies what sort of distances we are talking about.
This has been by far the best holiday I have ever had. Ron and Mike were just old enough to be able to look after themselves and even help out a bit, but not so old as to be difficult. Suz and Adam were still very young, just nice to have around.
I don’t have to write much about all the things we did and saw because as an assignment for school (no problems at all taking them away from school for a long holiday) they had to write a diary about their trip. Which they did every evening, with lots of postcards and other mementos. Those two books are one of our prized possessions.
The nicest camps were when we could just, in the late afternoon, turn left or right off the road into the bush, unfold the campervan and light a camp fire.
There is nothing like it. Unfortunately we had to make our way home, even after three months away we kept joking “shall we turn around and keep camping”? There was always a unanimous “Yes please”. But all good things come to an end and we did go home.
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- Red napkins in Surfers Paradise
This is an often retold story of an incident at our and Liz’s family holiday at Surfers Paradise (our oldest kids were young teenagers at that stage). We had met up with John Wright’s parents and we all decided to go and have a dinner out together. Us four “adults” with seven kids and John & Elsie with their two youngest sons Paul and Graham. Everything went fine until the red wine got to the three fathers and we encouraged our kids (who really didn’t need that) to wear the red napkins as pirate head coverings and even joined in with them. I have to admit we were a bit loud about it all, but the wives excused our behaviour by stating that we were Taswegians. I don’t know why, but every one seemed to accept that and didn’t think our behaviour very strange. The long and the short of it is, that we walked out of the Chinese restaurant singing loudly and still wearing the red napkins. I think they were just happy to see the last of us with only the loss of some napkins.
Herb and I took the kids for a walk home and Jenny and Liz drove the cars to the units.
At least we set a good example by not to drink and drive.
- Safety pin
The majority of our holidays were spend camping, not amazing with a family of which 5 are involved with scouting, even when Ron and Mike were still young and in nappies. We still have the patched airbed which got punctured with a nappy pin by a very sleepy Mum.
We traveled all over Victoria, even down to Adelaide in our little tent. And now that the kids do their own thing we can again go with just a little tent in the back of the car.
Which brings us to my next event.
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- Tassie, - Fire on board
For our last (Feb 2001) “overseas” holiday, we took the SPIRIT to Tassie, which is supposed to be nice and relaxing. Just drive your car on board, walk around a little bit, have a nice dinner, coffee and a drink, sleep, breakfast, back in the car and fit as a fiddle you can enjoy your first day in Tasmania. Not for us of course. In the middle of the night, aprox. 2 am, lots of noise, bells, gongs, sirens much banging on doors, and the PA system, ”There is an emergency, please get dressed in warm clothes, leave your luggage in the cabin, assemble at your muster station”. Well there we stood, sat on the floor or just hung about. There were lots of rumors, the crew would not let on what was wrong, but we could see on their faces that it was not just an exercise. It was all a bit scary, especially as this was just after the film TITANIC had come out, so everywhere you heard the whisper “Titanic”.
It turned out to be a fire in the photo shop with lots of chemicals, so potentially dangerous, especially with hundreds of cars on board full of petrol and LPG. Luckily the fire crew managed to put the fire out and after two hours we were allowed to go back to our cabins.
Tassie was very nice, with many “old” buildings, dated early to mid eighteen hundreds. Which was still interesting despite having grown up in Amersfoort which celebrated its 700 year City rights during my school years. I suppose everything is relevant, not only mathematically as Einstein found out, but also emotionally/visionary.
No, I was never a scout, but a large part of my later life has involved the scouting movement. At one stage I was the proud father of; a Cub, a Scout, a Venturer and a Rover. And as I often said, with Jenny as a Leader I am the only “normal” person in our family. Jenny being a leader not only gives her a lot of fun and enjoyment, but also gives me a bit of time on my own at home.
I am also very proud of the fact that three of the kids have obtained the highest award, the Queen Scout award. And all four are doing very well in their adult life, to which end scouting has certainly helped a lot.
Hobbies, if only I had time for them:
aa) I will let you guess
bb) The "famous" family tree
cc) My little "Noddy" car, a 1964 Austin Healy Sprite MKII
dd) Home renovating, although that is running thin
ee) Gardening
ff) Reading
gg) Wood turning
hh) I don't think I will ever find the time for this, an N gauge model train set
As I am writing this I am still some ten years away from retiring, so most of these hobbies will just have to wait.
Why a family tree & how did it all start
Why? Well that's easy, there were so many stories about members of my family, gone to America, gone missing, never spoken about etc. etc. that I considered it to be a good move to write it all down. Wondering how to go about it made me think of a family tree. On top of that a bookseller (the kind that leaves books at the reception of businesses) had a software CD for sale of a family tree program.
Now I had the inclination and the means, but no details. Even my grandfather’s name on my dad's side was unknown. Luckily my mother in law has a good memory for dates and names, so interrogating her gave me something to start with.
Then came a picture from Holland of a family tree of my mother in law's family, Groeneweg. This was done as a present for my wife's aunt's anniversary. It went back 9 generations, but only gave the names of fathers and their spouses, no brothers or sisters. But it was a good second kick start anyway, because also just about at that time I started to experiment with the internet and after many, many fruitless hours, days. months of "surfing", I finally found something interesting.
Via the Mormon site "familysearch.com I found the website of Pieter Groeneweg. There were a few different Groeneweg family trees on that website, and it took again many hours, but bingo, I recognized the name of one of the spouses of the family tree I mentioned earlier. I got cheeky and put in a search for Aarsen, my wife's family name, and bingo again, there they were on the internet Adriana Groeneweg married J.C. van den Aarsen.
That got me really hooked, a fully finished family tree.
Then came one of my visits to Holland (for my brother's 25th anniversary in 1997) and I happened to talk about my new hobby with my Mum. "Well", she said, "Tante Els (the wife of one of my Mum's brothers) has done some research of the Dopper family" (my Mum's). So I borrowed the car of one of my brothers and my Mum and I went off to Rotterdam for a visit to my aunt. That was an eye opener, my aunt certainly had done some research. She had actually gone to Stadskanaal were the "Hotel Dopper" was situated and obtained an enormous amount of family information at the local council archives. She had also researched in depth my grandmother's family Hoedemakers. It was all a bit messy, as she hadn't had time yet to sort it all out, but I had photocopies made of the whole lot to take back home with me.
The next interesting thing was a visit, as a result of my aunt's story, to the Hotel Dopper. My brother Theo offered to drive so off we went and had a cup of coffee in the hotel where my great grandmother worked, at least that much was certain. Unfortunately she was not married when she had my grand father and information about my great grand father, presumed (by me anyway) to be Cornelis Dopper, is up to now conjecture only. On one of the walls in the reception area of the hotel hung a relief picture of Cornelis Dopper.
The Hotel belonged to the father of Cornelis, who was born there.
While we were there Theo ran out of cash so we had to go to a bank, as we stood in the cue for the teller the subject of Dopper came up (I can't remember how) and the man in front of us in the cue, Herman ter Veen, was the president of the "Cornelis Dopper Comity" in that town. He invited us to his place of work for a coffee and some more information about Cornelis Dopper. He also told us that just a couple of days earlier the town remembered the day Cornelis died 50 years ago. Apparently there had been a large article in the local newspaper about their local celebrity, but he did not have a copy of that paper for us.
Not a problem for my brother, after thanking Herman for his kind efforts we left with a lot of information, but no newspaper, so Theo just stopped in front of a house in Stadskanaal and said to me "just wait here", 10 minutes latter he came out of the house with the local paper that had the Cornelis Dopper story in it. He certainly isn't shy.
However, at that stage I still didn't know much about my Schaap family. That all changed when at Christmas 1998 we received a card from America, this was very strange, because I didn't know anyone there. It turned out to be a cousin from my Dad's side. His Mum, my father's sister, had died early and when her husband remarried family contact unfortunately dwindled from little to nothing.
This cousin Gerard Somers and his sister Diny who still lives in Rotterdam were interested in family contact. He also mentioned that via a distant cousin they had some family tree information of their mother's side, “Eureka”, finally some info on my Schaap family. This distant cousin Wim Schonenberg had a neighbor interested in genealogy and he researched the roots of his friend's family. Diny sent me a copy of all the information they had received from Wim. It was quite a lot, all the way back to Jan Schaap & Willemke Dekker.
But even with all that information I got no further on the internet, the only thing I found was a mention of Jan Schaap & Willemke Dekker on familysearch.com, which showed that they came from the town of Almkerk in Braband.
Meanwhile the Aunt who researched the Dopper connection died and her children Peter & Marijke and Jose the wife of another son Kees took on the challenge to expand on the information. We had a nice get-together on my next visit to Holland in 2000, which gained me the current Dopper information, plus details of all my Dopper cousins, their spouses and children.
The next step came as a bit of a surprise; I found a website with a Heiltje Schaap from Almkerk. I emailed the owner of that website Teun van der Vorm and after a couple of requests for more info he came through with seven more generations of my Schaap family al, the way back to approx. 1550.
However this came with a word of caution, he pointed out that the Gerrit Schaap connection was not very positive, and to this day I have found many children of Jan Schaap and Willemke Dekker, but not Gerrit. The only saving grace is that Gerrit fits nicely in between what I hope to be his brothers and one sister.
One of these brothers Otto Schaap took his whole family, including married children (except for one) to America in 1848. And I am currently in contact with one of his descendants Bill Phillips, who put the Otto story on the web.
I will keep looking and searching for proof one way or the other regarding Gerrit and maybe some time in the future I can afford to spend some time in Holland to search the archives, or maybe some of my interest will rub off on my brothers in Holland and they will go and do some research.
The Schaap Family Tree
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Jan Aertz Schaep |
~1570 |
??? |
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~1537-____ |
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Jan Jansz Schaep |
~1600 |
Lijsbeth Cornelis |
|
~1569-____ |
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____-1575 |
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Dirk Jansz Schaep |
1633 |
Aentge Kuijnders |
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~1603-____ |
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~1610-____ |
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Jan Dirksz Schaap |
1666 |
Ariaentje v. Emmikhoven |
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~1636-____ |
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~1642-____ |
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Pieter Jansz Schaap |
1702 |
Teuntje van Dussen |
|
1676-1728 |
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~1678-bef1712 |
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Jan Pietersz Schaap |
1728 |
Anneken Kamp |
|
1703-1784 |
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1709-1766 |
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Arien Jansz Schaap |
1758 |
Heijltje Schaap |
|
1736-1782 |
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1727-1798 |
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Jan Ariens Schaap |
1789 |
Wilhelmina Dekker |
|
1766-1830 |
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1767-1859 |
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Gerrit Schaap |
|
??? |
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1795-1860 |
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Adrianus Schaap |
1866 |
Hendrika Romijn |
|
1835-1878 |
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1841-1926 |
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Gerardus Schaap |
1893 |
Huberdina Himmerich |
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1874-1951 |
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1880-1956 |
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Gerardus Schaap |
1944 |
Johanna Dopper |
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1920-1983 |
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1919- |
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Robert Schaap |
1971 |
Adrianna v.d. Aarsen |
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1946- |
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1948- |
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- |
Ronald |
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- |
Michael |
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- |
Suzanne |
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- |
Adam |
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Otto Schaap died in the month of February 1857 at the home of his son Arie in the city of Winkel, Province North Holland, Netherlands. His wife Lysje De Jong died on 14 Mar 1855 in Holland, Michigan.
Cornelius, the tenth child of Otto and Lysje wrote a letter to his children, in which he describes the voyage to America. We are indeed grateful to him for giving us this insight into their early life in the new land. Mary Schaap Pas translated the letter into English.
Issac said to his son, "See I am old and do not know the day of my death." Gen. 27:1 & 2.
So I thought I, your father who sits here much alone upstairs in the village of Zeeland, thus thought it not amiss to write a sort of history for the children of their parents and grandparents, where they lived and who they were.
My grandfather's name was John and his wife, Wilhelmina Dekker. Grandfather was walking on a plank over a deep "sloot" and fell in the water and drowned at the age of seventy-five. They lived in South Holland near Dorthregt (Netherlands) where also my father was born in October, 1792.
His name was Otto Schaap, and mother's name Lysje De Jong. She was born near Dort in August, 1797. My father married at the age of twenty-two to mother who was eighteen. They lived fifteen years in Wieldregt where eleven children were born to them; namely Wilhelmina (Boot), Cornelia (Doesburg), Arie, John, Ottilia (Van Schelven), Jacob, Gerrit, Maaike (Pauels), Heiltje (Plugger), Cornelis, and Teuntje.
Cornelis your father was two years old when his parents moved in 1832 to an island called 10 Gemeet, where they lived eighteen years, and four more children were born, all who died in infancy, also three of the older ones, namely Ottilia, Gerrit, and Teuntje.
In 1847 my brother John went with the immigrants Rev. Scholten and Rev. van Raalte to America. Consequently father and mother felt that they too must go, with all their children, except Arie and Wilhelmina.
We left the 20th of May, 1848 and boarded the ship called "DeLevere." The captain's name was "Wieks." The first mate was Wildelzee," and the second mate was "Owen."
Then in the early morning of May 21st, the anchor was lifted, the wind favorable, we sailed into the North Sea, and not long after your father saw for the last time the Netherlands coast. After sailing forty-four days we all landed healthy and well on the 3rd of July in New York.
The first day we were in America we could celebrate the national holiday "The Fourth of July." The next day we took a steamboat on the Hudson River and went to Albany, where in the evening of the 5th we were loaded onto a canal boat, which in seven days brought us to Buffalo. From there we took a steamboat "The Princeton" and in four days we came to Milwaukee, there we were loaded onto a Schooner across the Michigan Lake to Grand Haven, then loaded on a flat boat with a horse hitched, and walking along the shore. We arrived at the mouth of Black Lake. Then in the evening we carried our belongings to a little boat, of Co. Vink, who brought us safely in the Indian City (Holland) on the 21st of July. That was called our Destination, in a woods of Enoch's children, Oaks and Hemlocks.
Dear Children, if your father could have had wings, he would have turned right around, and back home I would have gone. But I was destined to stay, and we now see God's hand in it all, and it was good. He brought us here where we could get the pure Gospel of Our Lord Jesus Christ, and He made it well for us and must sing "Des Heeren Goedheid Kent Geen Palen," Psalm 25.
We moved into a log house which the Indians had built for a church. We lived there six weeks whilst my brother Jacob and I cleared a little land and built a log house in which September 1st, Father, Mother, Jacob, your father and two sisters, Maaike and Heiltje moved through the deep woods.
We rode with oxen and a big wagon five miles from the then so-called town. It was noticeable how thankful my mother was to go into the home her sons had built. She had not the least regret that she at her age had to live in such a humble home. Then your father and Uncle Jake began to cut down the trees and in the Spring of 1849 we had 30 acres down and enough cleared to plant potatoes and corn, so we went from step to step. We bought two cows, a span of oxen, a wagon, so Uncle and your father worked together for father and mother.
In 1853 your father, then 24 years old, met your mother, Jannetje Romein, 19 years of age, and on the sixth of February they were married by Rev. van der Muelen.
When our oldest son was five months, our dear mother died at the age of 58 years and five months. She lies buried in the family lot at Pilgrim Cemetery. Father Otto Schaap a year later went back to the Netherlands to his oldest son, Arie in North Holland, and died there in 1857. He was buried in the family lot by his son in Winkle, North Holland.
In 1888 your father and mother had the pleasure of making a visit to their sons, Peter in Iowa, and Otto and Arie in Dakota, which will never be forgotten. To see with my own eyes the great land of the west.
1946 Born in Rotterdam
1947 Move to Utrecht
1952 Primary School
1955 Move to Amersfoort
1958 Technical School
1962 Technical College (prep and attempt only)
1965 First car Citroen 2CV (~1950)
1966 National Service (one month)
1966 Start work at Krause
1967 Second car Citroen 2CV (1960)
1969 Third car Ford Cortina (1966)
1969 Moved to Australia
1969 Start work at Breamar
1970 Fourth car Ford Falcon XP wagon (1966)
1970 Changed work start at McColl
1971 Married (My Mum visits for wedding)
1972 First house Belmont road Croydon
1973 Ronald born
1974 Start TAFE course
1974 Michael born
1975 Fifth car Ford Cortina (1967)
1975 Start at drawing office at McColl
1975 My Mum visits us with Johan
1976 Sixth car Mitsubishi Gallant wagon (new)
1978 Suzanne born
1978 First second car Valiant wagon (1968)
1978 My Dad visits us with Tiny and Eric
1979 Valiant traded for Corolla (1969)
1980 1st Trip to Holland with whole family (no Adam yet)
1980 TAFE course finished (certificate of Electrical Engineering)
1981 Adam born
11981 Moved from Croydon to Judith Ave Boronia
1982 Corolla traded for Mitsubishi L300 Van (new)
1983 My Dad died
1983 Changed work, start at Deutz
1983 Corolla traded for Holden Camira (company car)
1984 L300 traded for L300 4WD (new)
1985 Trip around Australia (3 months)
1985 Changed work, start at Wampfler
1985 Camira changed for Ford Telstar (company car)
1985 Operation on my back (very successful)
1986 change work, start partnership with Alex, "Stylronics"
1986 Telstar changed for Corolla (1972)
1987 Bought land (~20 acres) in Marong, near Bendigo
1987 Change work, start own business ROJE
1987 Start contracting for PILLER
1988 Corolla traded for LADA NIVA 4WD (new)
1989 2nd Trip to Holland (Mum's 70th birthday)
1990 Lada traded for Mitsubishi Sigma (1983)
1990 Bessy adopted
1901 Bought the house next door in Judith Ave
1993 Moved from Boronia to Bayview crs The Basin
1994 Sold the house next door in Judith Ave
1995 First third car Holden Commodore wagon (1989) "PILLER company car"
1996 My Mum visits us with my brother Theo
1996 Sigma changed for later model (1984), I bingled the other (it was a write-off)
1996 Commodore changed to Ford Falcon EB (1992) "PILLER company car"
1997 Sold the L300 Van 4WD
1997 Bought the Falcon from PILLER
1997 3rd Trip to Holland (Theo & Hetty 25years)
1998 Bought my first Hobby Car, 1964 Austin Healey Sprite
2000 4th Trip to Holland (Theo married)
2001 Sigma traded for Mitsubishi Lancer (new)
2001 Fred and Janny visit us (landed in Darwin, drove to Alice and then the Ghan to Melbourne
2001 Falcon traded for Ford Falcon AUII wagon (new)
2001 Jenny’s Mum died, just before Christmas
2002 Michael married Amanda Freeman
2002 Theo visits us with Truus
2002 Left PILLER, now with APM
2002 Bessy Died
2002 Bought A’VAN, took it to Helga for New Year’s Eve
2003 Suze moves out, only Adam left
2003 Jenny’s Dad moves in with us (Suz’s old Room)
2003 I finally move into my office up-stairs
Politics (A letter to the Prime Minister)
I have had many arguments with various people about an idea I had relating to the dole and all the various pensions which the Government is handing out. And I was always told “If you feel that way tell the politicians, not us”, so I did. I have had a reasonable amount of replies, one even referred me to a world wide organization trying to push for a very similar idea. Below is the letter which I sent to well over a hundred federal parliamentarians, anyone I could find an email address for.
ROBERT SCHAAP
5 1 BAYVIEW CRES,
THE BASIN, VIC 3154
Tel: (03) 9762 6579 Email: [email protected]
To: The Prime Minister of Australia
Mr John Howard
Email at www.aph.gov.au
CC: All the members of the Commonwealth Parliament
Page 1 of 3 Date: April 2001
Subject: AUSTRALIANS Working and Living Together
Is it conceivable that one day all Australians will be full-time employed?
NO, off course not, there just is not enough work around and some people are unemployable of their own free will, or due to some unfortunate circumstance. We must accept all those reasons and learn to live WITH it, not try to pretend that these reasons do not exists, or that they will go away quietly.
But please realize the following.
One of the reasons of lack of work is that business is replacing people with machines and computers because it is “more cost effective”. They say they make more money that way, which is good, as long as they are made to pay their fair share of tax, which can then be used to pay for the proposal outlined below.
This proposal will also make it more cost effective to employ people be it part time or full time.
What are some of the worst aspects of unemployment?
Guilt - "I don't like living off others".
Jealousy - "I don't like working for all those dole bludgers".
Why are people who are on unemployment not working, not even a small part time job, or if they are, why are they keeping quite about it.
No reward Unless a person can earn far more than the current unemployment benefit, or pension they are as good as working for nothing, which is not good for morale.
Expensive To employ workers who only want to work full time for much more than dole money is not always cost effective.
Is there a solution to all these and many more reasons and feelings?
YES
Pay EVERY AUSTRALIAN the same living allowance, similar to the current unemployment and various pensions.
Rates will depend on age, and underage allowances will be paid to one nominated or appointed parent or guardian. This allowance will take the place of every type of pension, old age, single parent disability etc. and must he enough to live on comfortably.
The allowance is regardless of the amount of income or assets and will be an insignificant amount in regard of the tax paid by a high-income person, that way there will be:
No more jealousy, everyone gets the same, irrespective of income or assets.
No more guilt, same reason.
This way there will be a reward for every hour worked, the allowance stays, but tax is paid on every dollar earned just like everyone else. If a person is 90 years old, partially disabled, or looks after his or her children and wants to earn a little bit extra that should be rewarded, not punished by removing the allowance. We shall be amazed how many would find that extra work and thereby paying their bit of tax. Now they sit at home vegetating.
No more pensions, be it old age, single parent, invalid, etc.
No more cloak and dagger stuff, of who lives with whom, or how many live in one house together.
Reduced social service department, everyone is socially secure.
Can we afford this? YES
We are currently all living under similar circumstances, nobody is (should) be starving; we are either working, and paying tax, or living of the government handouts already.
Income Tax rate should be fixed fiat rate of 20 - 30%, same as company tax, this will eliminate another scheme of dividend pay-out in lieu of salary.
All income will be subject to this tax rate, NO EXCEPTIONS, means NO CHEATING, all minimization and evasion schemes revolve around deductions for so called valid reasons.
Health and education would be a good reason, but as good public health and good education will be FREE to everyone, regardless of income or assets there is no reason for a deduction. If a person goes for the luxury of private health or education, that will be their own free choice.
Cost incurred in earning the income should not be a deduction either, that will force businesses to be careful with expenses e.g. Why should one person be allowed to deduct $500.000.00 because he likes to drive a Ferrary, whilst as transport (which is what he is really claiming) a Comodore or Falcon would do just as well.
For the same reason business will be taxed at the same flat rate of 20 - 30% on TURN-OVER.
That means the more economical you run your business the more money you can keep. The only deduction allowed will be purchase of material / equipment to be sold-on and wages because income is being taxed. Also if wages were not deductible employment would not be helped.
All rates shown are to be adjusted to the economic reality; they are illustratory only, basically just divide what we need by what we earn plus turnover.
I know this sounds very simple, and most likely needs a lot more thought put in, but the simpler the tax system the least likely it is to be avoided.
Some of my other personal ideas/feelings
NON AUSTRALIAN residents should show their appreciation of living in this beautiful country by paying the full income tax rate, without being paid the before mentioned allowance.
They have three options
1- Apply to become Australian, they are
ALL very welcome
2- Claim unemployment or other social pay out from their country
3- Return to their country
Multiculturalism is great, but for us to be living and working together we must be able to understand each other; therefore English must be our common language. All government documentation and all other services provided should only be in English only that would be an incentive to learn English, rather than forcing the issue, either by compulsory lessons or a pre requisite of immigration.
Saying, "This government is sorry for what has happened in the past" does not mean, "We take responsibility for it". I myself am sorry for what happened to lots of people in the past, slaves, aboriginals, convicts, orphans, children taken from un-married girls (black or white), or boys at boarding school having a hard time. But I certainly can not and should not be responsible for it.
Make sure that it is understood that there will be no hand-out and say that we are sorry, so that we can get on with living together.
Abolish State governments, we must be by far the most over governed nation in the western world.
My one and only point of tax does not allow for State revenue anyway.
One "DEFENSE FORCE" to defend anyone, anywhere in Australia against:
Invasion
Riots
Fire
Assault
Burglary
Dangerous behavior
Accident
etc, etc.
No more infighting, jalousie and duplication by having Army, Air force, Navy, Police, Fire brigade, Ambulance, SES, etc.
I am amazed that we do not have state run armed forces in this divided country.
Why do we have to wait until lives are lost before the army gets called in for a bush fire?
It is bad enough having to try and extradite Christopher Skase from Spain, but hearing of extradition procedures between NSW and VIC for instance makes me see red.
Schools, hospitals, roads, etc. are for Australians, not for Victorians or Queenslanders.
Maybe if one day we get it all right we may even get our neighbor New Zealand to join us in a political and / or commercial alliance "NEWAUSLAND".
It is unfortunate that the "old" political parties have made it necessary for a new populous driven party to make its appearance using the name "ONE NATION". I would have liked to use that phrase for the above comments, but that phrase is now just as tainted as the old word for happy "Gay".
By all means let us become a republic, the monarchy has no relevance, but please do not again change the Australian flag. A lot of people have rightly, or wrongly, believed to die for it. That alone should be reason enough, or are we bullsh ..... g when we say on Anzac day "Lest we forget".
Thanks for making time to read this.
Kind regards
Robert Schaap
Replies from
Department of the Prime Minister
Kim Beazley
Cheryl Kernot
(reference to “Guaranteed minimum income”
Office of Jennifer Macklin
Office of Barry Haase
Simon Crean
Office of Kevin Andrews
Office of the Treasurer.
Not all that many, but more than I expected.
Dopper reunion
My contribution to the reunion of all the aunts, uncles and cousins of my Mum's side of our family "Dopper".
Australia June 2001
By name not a Dopper, but nevertheless still a grandson of Opa and Oma Dopper, one of the few who have left Holland. Most Doppers don’t like too move to far, as I have seen on the “Nephews and Nieces list” send around by Marijke.
Due to the fact that I live a long distance from Holland, I unfortunately can not come to the reunion, therefor I will first tell you a little about my self. I am the oldest son of (for all of you) Tante Annie in Amersfoort, the only daughter of Opa and Oma. I migrated to Australia in 1969, why? A girl of course. Everything went exactly as I hoped it would and we are now happily married for more than 30 years, with three Sons, a Daughter and a Dog. I work freelance as an electrical engineer, with everything these days on the computer and the Internet of course. My Hobbies are: reading, (mostly detectives and supernatural/horror), my old (classic) car, a 1964 Austin Healy Sprite, yes red of course and I am a member of the Healy club, gardening (for which we fortunately we have enough room, wood turning and surfing on the internet, searching for distant family members. Doppers as well as Schaaps and also my wife’s family van den Aarsen and Groeneweg. The Groeneweg tree took me all the way back to approx. 1530. So my children know about their g.g.g.etc. Great grand father and Mother, some 14 generations back.
When I reflect about the Zestienhovenstraat, then in my mind I can see Opa in his “big” chair in front of a “large” sideboard. Next to that sideboard stood a small table for the ashtray and tobacco. Above that table hung a pipe rack. About a year and a half ago (Feb. 2000) I visited Uncle Cor, and because the Zestienhovenstraat was just around the corner, I wanted to walk past it just to have a look at the place. Marijke wanted some fresh air and decided to come along. As we were standing there, in front of the door (taking pictures) she said, “Wouldn’t you like to have a look inside, it is such a long time ago”? I thought that was a grand idea, but you can’t do that sort of thing, and said that also to Marijke. Well I shouldn’t have told her she couldn’t do that. She instantly rang the bell and asks very nice in English whether we would be allowed to have a look around seeing as how our grandparents used to live there. We were welcome, so we went inside, up the stairs.
Boy, oh boy how small it all was, the corner next to the chimney could never have accommodated that “big” cupboard, certainly not with enough space left for a pipe rack. A family with seven children in that room, how is it possible. My in-laws were friends of my parents since long, long ago and from them I heard that it was always a nice atmosphere at the family Dopper. As far as I can see “Cozy” would be a better word, seven kids and many with boy / girl friends.
Many memories came flooding back, the cupboard with all the empty cigar boxes to build towers with, the front “parlor” for the jigsaw puzzles. It was very nice to see all that again, again many thanks Marijke.
As a little boy I often stayed in the Zestienhovenstraat, usually first a week with my Oma Schaap in the Raphorststraat and then a week with Opa and Oma Dopper. The best memories are the walks with Opa to the Maas Tunnel, the Euromast, Keukenhof and of course the Zoo. And than in the evenings a throw of the dice, or a game of cards (all that was pre-TV) and Opa did not like it when he lost. After that off to bed in the attic. I have since heard that I was not the only one to climb out of the window to walk on the roof. The first part was easy and very safe, just between the two roof tops, only the front and rear were a bit dangerous, but I am still alive.
Well that was my contribution, I hope that many stories will surface and I look forward to read them all.
Sincere wishes from Robert Schaap
If the latter this was one of my earlier lives, as written for an assignment at TAFE
Melbourne 1978
An auto biography.
Let me introduce myself. My name is Cabern Sauvi and at this reflective time in my life I am in a dark cellar where I spend my maturing years. It is quite cool here, but that's just the way I like it. I have no idea what the future holds for me, but I can start by telling you something about my past.
About 20 years ago (of course to me the best year) my life started in the Barrosa valley SA. It must have been early November and I only consisted of some grape buds. A few weeks later I really started to look like a bunch of grapes. These days as I just lay about in here it is hard to imagine that I once looked like that, but I did.
It was a nice time out there in the sun and an occasional bit of rain. But alas, all good things come to an end and soon it became February.
A big ugly looking machine came rattling towards me and "ouch" there I was tossed into a bin pulled by a tractor. After a short ride we were all thrown into a big crusher. It did hurt a little bit, but when it was all over it gave me a beautiful liquidy feeling, shape had no meaning then. I could flow all over, I was one with all my brothers and sisters. Next I went through all kind of processes and I finally started to become wine during fermentation. From there we went with many other families into a big Oak cask.
We had quite a good time there; we were all young and played all kinds of games in that dark cask. But as we matured more and more we slowed down a bit, preparing ourselves for the moment that we would be separated to start our individual lives, be it long or short.
One of my cousins lasted only about 3 minutes, thanks to a pair of slippery hands, someone tried to check our quality, the bottle slipped and there was that horrible sound of breaking glass. No, not really the way to go for a good vintage wine. Luckily I survived the bottling process and was soon on my way to another part of the winery where all the bottles are kept. There I spend many years just doing nothing. I must say life for a bottle of wine is pretty dull.
During the holiday season there are guided tours, that broke the monotony a little bit. We had quite a few giggles about some of those tourists. Sunglasses in a rather dark cellar, a couple of cameras on their big stomachs. If only they could see themselves through the eye of a bottle of wine!
But occasionally a visit meant business, a wine merchant would come and look us over. We all tried to outdo each other in looking mature.
And finally the day came that I was to be sold. I must say it is a strange feeling, knowing to be sold and leaving your place of birth without any say in the matter, but I have no voice, so even if I wanted to, how could I complain? Nothing left but to accept the fact and hoping that life would not come to an end too quickly, as I felt that I could still improve my quality.
My being sold actually brought a small bright spot in my life, as during the transport I glimpsed sunlight again and I suddenly remembered all those days on the grapevine. It seemed like yesterday that the sun was shinning on me day after day.
But after a bumpy trip of two days on the back of a truck I suddenly noticed the familiar smell of a wine cellar again, as I was carried into the cellar where I now spend my last years dreaming about what will happen to me.
If you want to find out what could happen, make it happen,
BUY A BOTTLE