My life began at the water’s edge near a tiny town in Tasmania. I had eight older brothers and sisters, one of whom had died from diphtheria before I was born. My father was Aboriginal and my mother an Englishwoman who had moved to Tasmania while still a teenager. Her father had been a merchant mariner who sailed to Hobart on his final voyage, where he settled with his family. My dad was also a mariner, and it was probably inevitable that they should meet. The marriage, however, was pretty unusual for the times.

I was born during the Second World War. While I was still a baby, a mill fell on my father, breaking many bones in his body and putting him out of action (and income) for a long, long time. We were financially poor, but family rich. Both my parents loved reading, listening to the radio and completing crossword puzzles. Recently, I realised where my love for, and knowledge of, arcane words comes from: the crosswords in the Hobart Mercury.

My siblings and I received a good education throughout the compulsory years. There were very few high schools in Tasmania, and I was fortunate to win a scholarship to attend Hobart High School, as I had set my sights on becoming a teacher. However, my attendance there was short-lived, as I was incredibly homesick. When I finally convinced my mum that I needed to be at home, an area school had been built and I was able to complete secondary schooling to grade nine, leaving at 15 to go to work.