Nada Zuvela Nada’s long journey to Australia began in her hometown of Vela Luka, Yugoslavia, on the island of Korcula. Although World War II had ended a decade earlier, the economic and political conditions of Europe meant that many people were looking for a brighter, more prosperous future. The idyllic summers spent on the family boat, island hopping and picnicking were no consolation for the instability that life in Yugoslavia offered. Nada’s father set his sights on a new life in Australia. It was 1955 when Nada and her family began their journey to Australia. In their five- metre boat they travelled the dubious journey to the neighbouring island of Lastovo- a major Adriatic naval base. From Lastovo, Nada’s family left the Harbor of Ubli and began their fated journey across the Adriatic Sea. After hours of extreme weather, Nada and her family arrived on shore, exhausted and soaked in Peschici, Italy. They would then spend the night in Prison and the next 20 months as refugees in Italy. After years of persistence, Nada and her family arrived in Fremantle on the 7 May, 1957, and then continued to Melbourne. After a short time in Victoria, they travelled by train across the Nullarbor back to Fremantle. They have stayed in Fremantle ever since. Transcript Suitcase Story My name is Nada I was born in the town of Vela Luka on the island of Korcula in the country then called Yugoslavia. Since 1992 Yugoslavia became Croatia, and as such, I identify myself as a Croatian Australian migrant. The year 1955 was the 10th Anniversary of the end of WWII. Every country in Europe was affected by devastation, food, shortages and political problems, and my father, like many others was also affected. He decided that he will take his family to a country where they can have a more rewarding future. From the onset he decided that the best country to emigrate to was Australia. The seaside town of Vela Luka Image courtesy of Nada Zuvela Best summer holiday ever. Dad had finally installed an engine in his 5 meter wooden boat named “NADA” (Hope) after me. He had been building “Nada” in his spare time over the past year. The whole summer of 1955 the boat was used every weekend for picnics, with friends and their kids, to the adjoining bays and small islands. The 'Nada' Image courtesy of Nada Zuvela But the best thing about this summer holidays was our adventure in our new boat to the old town of Dubrovnik which was some 100km away. The whole of July -August, the hottest months we putt-putted from one Island to the next until we reached the beautiful walled town of Dubrovnik. Exploring the old city was a wonderful adventure for my brother and I. Nada and her family Image courtesy of Nada Zuvela Come September all of these adventures had to stop. The summer holidays ended and my older brother Radimir (4 years older) and I had to start school. It was my third year and I was nine years old. New books, pencils, paper and chalk were all very welcoming but I did not want to go back to the classroom when all of the summer adventures were still with me. The second week of the school year, mid September dad announced at breakfast to my brother and I, that we have to come straight to the boat after school as we were going to the adjoining island that afternoon. Mum, dad and their two friends with their son, who was same age as I, were already at the boat when my brother and I arrived. At about 3.00 in the afternoon we left Vela Luka my home town for what it turned out to be the greatest adventure of my life. Nada and her brother Radimir Image courtesy of Nada Zuvela We arrived on the adjoining island called Lastovo at 6.00pm which was been built as one of the major Naval Bases in the Adriatic. My father was working on the base and was known to everyone there. As we approached the Island of Lastovo, Mum and all of us kids were told by my father to hide under the deck of the boat and not to make a sound. He told the Military personnel that he was taking his friend and his wife to the town of Lastovo to see her parents and that he will be back in the morning. He said this so as to avoid been followed by the naval speed boat that were patrolling the waters. But as he left the Harbour of Ubli he continued travelling out to sea. I remember that the sea was calm and there was no wind as we left Ubli after sunset. We had dinner and went to sleep under the deck to be awakened at down by violent rocking of the boat. We were about 20km from land but the sea all around us was white and the wind very strong pushing us off course and tossing us from side to side. Because the boat was open, large waves were dumping water into it causing the engine to flood and stop. Dad knowing what had to be done tried for about 2 hours to get the engine started, without any success. Meanwhile the whole time the adults were bailing the water out of the boat. Finally, after two hour of this ordeal the wind dropped and dad got the boat started and we continued towards the land ahead. Having arrived two hours later soaked and exhausted to a place which was totally different to any thing that I have seen before. We landed on the sandy beach below a town perched high above on the cliff. The houses in this place looked all the same, all painted white with flat roofs and square min shape with no greenery around them. We were met by a large scruffy group of people who came to see what has turned up on their beach. I became frightened because they spoke a different language and were shouting a lot and waving their hands around. Our crossing of the Adriatic Sea ended with our arrival to a small town called Peschici on the Italian side of the Adriatic Sea. Having travelled all night and escaped the naval speed boat and near drowning, soak to the bones, we left the boat behind on the beach and took little of our possessions that my mother brought with her. From Peschici we were taken by a car to a prison in a larger town called Foggia and we spent the night here. Classified as refugees for the next 20 months we became persons who did not belong to any country having just left their own. The Italian seaside town of Peschici Image courtesy of Nada Zuvela We left Foggia by train which took us to the Northern Italian city of Udine very close to the Yugoslav border. We were placed in a refugee camp called Campo Smistamento di Profughi Stranieri. It was a large three- storey building on the outskirts of Udine. My family was just one of many refugees from different parts of the world who were housed here and waited to be ‘processed.' Two months passed before dad was called up in front of a commission which was to determine if he will qualify to stay or be returned to Yugoslavia. Dad was allowed to stay and as a result we were put on the train and sent to another refugee camp in Southern Italy near Salerno, called Campo Profughi San Antonio Pontecagnano where we remained for next 17 months. Learning to ride- Nada's mother at San Antonio Image courtesy of Nada Zuvela In San’Antonio Refugee Camp life was more organised and ordered, here we had a large room where we lived as a family with some cooking facilities and sleeping quarters. The food was provided in the communal canteen and at times was not very palatable. Spaghetti featured most days on the menu. Children were encouraged to go to school and learn Italian. While adults were being taught how to repair things and acquire new skills they might need when they emigrate to other countries. Life was less restricted and kids had lots of freedom to run around. However, life for the adults was very monotonous and each day passed very slowly. Classes at the refugee camp Image courtesy of Nada Zuvela Here my dad awaited to get permission to come to Australia with his family. Some 16 months later his wish came true and we were again on the move to yet another refugee camp North of Naples in the town called Aversa. It was from here that we left Italy and boarded the ship 'ROMA’ in Naples to take us to Australia. Naples Image courtesy of Nada Zuvela The ROMA was full of migrants mainly Yugoslav- Croatians, Italians, Germans, Greeks , all of whom were looking to start a new life in Australia. On board the ship we were encouraged to view films on Australia, listen to English be spoken and sing songs like ”She will be coming around the Mountain“ but most of the time we were just running around the ship. On the way to Australia we went through Suez Canal, my dad brought me a souvenir of Egypt which was a small camel. When we reached Colombo in Ceylon I tasted bananas for the first time and again I was given a little black wooden carved Elephant. These two things remained with me for many years as mementos of my travel to my new home and to the exotic places I have passed on the way. After one month of sea travel we arrived in Fremantle 6.00am 7th May 1957. I was up early with my mother full of anticipation to see our new country...but what a letdown. There was no rocky coastline, no large green trees – everything was flat and grey and no sign of life. We berthed at the Port Of Fremantle in front of some tall large brick buildings. To my horror one of those buildings had a sign which read 'MORT.' I was very worried as to what type of place we had come to. Morte in Italian means death. Later I was put at ease once I found out that Mort was an English surname and the buildings were wool sheds. My dad loved Fremantle and found that there were many friends here that he knew off. But we were bound for Melbourne. Passenger list Image courtesy of Nada Zuvela Arriving in Melbourne we went to a farm in the Dendanogs that belong to a friend of my dad. We stayed there for 3 weeks while dad found work. Dad did not like the big city and the weather so after one month we were on the move again. This time to Wodonga 300km North- East of Melbourne. Two months later we were on our way across the Nullarbor by train to Fremantle. We had our first Christmas in Fremantle and have stayed here ever since. February of 1958 I started Year 7 at Beaconsfield Primary Fremantle. I had no continuous schooling for over two and a half years speaking very little English that I learnt since we arrived. There were no special classes in English for me to attend and since the school had lots of Italian and Croatian speaking students it did not help me to learn English quickly. A year later I attended John Curtin High School and my father encouraged me to go to University where I obtain an Arts Degree and became a Town Planner. I look back on my adventures and think how lucky I have been, to have experienced so much as a child. How these adventures, journeys have made me more understanding and more tolerant of others and thanking my parents for making Australia our home. Nada Zuvela [nee Marinovic] ‹ Nonja Peters