One forever associates sights, smells and sounds with where one grows up. Sometimes they are pleasant and sometimes not so, but they all define our childhoods and underpin our lives in subconscious ways. The sound of the surf is one of my most pleasant memories as much as I’ll never forget the rotten sulphuric smell of the aptly named Smelly Creek at the shunting yards in Deal Party. But a distinctive sound that I oddly found soothing and comforting, probably because of its familiarity, was the otherwise harsh sound of Harvards flying lazily overhead, particularly on beautiful summer days. Being a boy and a WWII buff, that sound would always bring out the Biggles in me and get my pulse racing.
Main picture: The iconic North American AT-6 Harvard (Texan to Americans) resplendent in SAAF colours