Back then, travelling to Australia was a big deal for most people – akin to blasting off to an unknown planet. The majority of migrants didn’t know when the hell, or if ever, they would be seeing their homeland again. Several of the Pommy passengers were bawling their eyes out and clutching little coloured streamers. These were strung across to weeping friends and rellies’, who crowded the observation deck above the Customs shed. After much hullabaloo, the last gangway was taken away and, with another blast of the ship’s whistle, the Kioni was slowly pushed and pulled into the River Test and out into Southampton waters.

A young girl stood alone at the rail. She was sobbing, clutching a small teddy bear to her breast and waving to a young guy on the observation deck. Tiny-Tom sauntered along the deck, now dressed in a white boiler suit, which identified him as crew. He walked up behind the girl, put his arm around her and yelled at the guy on shore. ‘Don’t worry, mate, we’ll take good care of her!’ The girl, lost in the moment, nestled into her giant protector and continued to wave at her distraught boyfriend, now frothing at the mouth and shaking his fist at Tiny-Tom. The friends and rellies left behind waved and hollered frenetically and, as the gap slowly widened, their parting words grew fainter, eventually stolen by a cold, uncaring wind. Many became frantic, jumping up and down, growing hysterical. The shipboard Pommies put a hand to an ear and hollered back across the void. ‘What? What? I can’t hear ya! What ya say?’ Some of the friends and rellies held up hastily scrawled cardboard signs bearing sad, chin-up messages: ‘Good luck, Malcolm, Jean and the kids down under’.

The Kioni blew a long, last, mournful blast of farewell. This final eruption causing a cloud of soot to descend onto the desperate passengers like a sudden flurry of fine, black snow. A large, oily dollop came to rest on the shoulder of my white Afghan coat. But what the heck! What a hoot! We were on our way. The tugs pulled the Kioni further into the Solent and, when they’d done their job, dropped astern and disappeared into the night. I’d just turned twenty. I was off to see the world. Giddy-up!

Meet Archibald Winston Spinks. The year is 1973 and having never left the UK before, young Archie sets sail aboard the SS Kioni for a three-month voyage around the world. As the newest member of the on board entertainment team, Archie is quick to suss out the form and in no time is wholeheartedly embracing life at sea, partaking, as he does, in the whirlwind visits to numerous port hostelries for liquid sustenance, the sampling of a myriad of illicit substances and making the most of the all-too-willing female passengers' attention. John H Livings gives us a central character that is impossible to resist. We wince as trouble looms on the horizon, and share in Archie's relief, as he 'gets away with it' one more time. The numerous scrapes and misadventures are described with razor sharp wit, which is nonetheless infused with a warm and affecting humanity.