On so crowded a transport it was difficult to arrange satisfactorily for amusements. However, the best possible was done under the circumstances. Sports meetings were held once or twice a week. In most of the competitions the Western Australians showed up well. The keenest interest was displayed in the inter-unit tug-of-war, the final of which was won, after an exciting struggle, by the team from "D" Company. In boxing, the honours went to the Queenslanders of the 17th A.A.S.C., who produced several very good performers of medium and heavy weights. Much laughter was engendered when, after the tea hour, the tyros donned the gloves with one another. Several concerts were arranged and held on or near the well-decks. Perhaps the most popular singer was the youthful stowaway. The regimental band, conducted by Sergt. W. T. Hocking, assisted at these functions. Endeavours had been made to form this before leaving Blackboy Hill, but time permitted of little being done beyond collecting a certain number of instruments. Once on the ship all men who could play were invited to attend practice. Thus a nucleus was formed. By the time that Suez was reached good progress had been made and the band was in a promising condition. In Egypt, however, and later in France, bands were not encouraged—having to be more or less shelved. In 1917 their true value began to be understood, and every facility was given to form and maintain such organisations.
For the individual of certain tastes other diversions existed beyond attendance at concerts and athletic competitions. Card games were played—"bridge" being the first favourite, but "poker" also having a large following. Gambling was forbidden by the regulations. Nevertheless, the usual veteran of other wars was found on board who was prepared to initiate all who were tempted into some of the mysteries of "banker" or "crown and anchor." This individual, however, met discouragement from the ship's police who, whenever opportunity offered, seized and confiscated his plant. "Two-up" and "House" were not then so popular as they became a few months later.
For mascots, the friends of the Battalion had sent on board two or three of the ring-necked parakeets, generally known as "Twenty-eights." These were made pets of during the voyage, but had either died or escaped before its end.
An Australian Imperial Force Canteen was established on board. This supplied pipes, tobacco, cigarettes, sweets, non-alcoholic drinks, and a variety of other odds and ends, which could be purchased. The ship was "dry"—that is, no spirits, wines, or beer were supposed to be available to other than the ship's crew. This arrangement was in accordance with the policy of the Australian Government and obtained on all sea transports. Whilst the usual stimulant was thus missed by many who were accustomed to it, on the whole the system in force did more good than harm and was a considerable aid to the preservation of order and comfort. So far as could be observed, the rule was strictly adhered to on the "Ascanius"; nevertheless, the Commanding Officer, during his morning inspections of the ship, was more than once heard to comment on the absorbent capacity of the crew, as evidenced by the number of empty ale and stout bottles cleared from their quarters.
In all that was done for the comfort and welfare of the troops, great assistance was rendered by the Master of the ship and his officers. Perhaps the Chief Officer was more concerned in protecting the interests of his owners than of giving much latitude to the men who were in transit. At times in early morn, and again late at night, his voice could be heard in altercation with some unfortunate Australian, who had surreptitiously made his bed in a forbidden area, or had violated some other rule of the ship. He and his myrmidons were suspected of undue zeal in impounding and placing in the ship's store any hammock, blanket, or mess utensil, whose owner had momentarily left them unguarded on deck or in some other open space. Later on, the articles so impounded were shown as shortages in the ship's stores returned by the troops and had to be paid for from the Battalion's funds. That Chief Officer was not popular, but he was a good manager of his crew and kept the ship in excellent condition.
The Master, Captain F. Chrimes, was a Lancashire man, of rather striking personality and appearance. Some writer, who had travelled on the ship as a passenger, has already portrayed him in one of his published books. Captain Chrimes admired the men and, although in his official and daily inspections he assumed an air almost of indifference to what he saw, he was really closely observant and suggested much—and did more—to make the conditions of life on board less uncomfortable. In quiet hours he chatted deferentially with the Brigadier, played chess with the doctors, or gently "pulled the legs" of the young officers. Of stories, he had a fund. These ranged from stirring personal experiences with lions in the East African jungles to a pathetic incident connected with the death of his family's favourite cat. As a mark of affection, the corpse of this cat was buried in the garden at the foot of an old grape vine. In the first subsequent crop of fruit—so the Captain related—each grape appeared with a slight coat of fur!
On the whole the voyage was pleasant enough and almost without unusual incident, bar an accident or two to individuals. Perfect good feeling existed amongst the different units during the whole of the journey. Many friendships were made, and these early associations proved of great value later on during the stress of work in the field. For the first few days out wireless communication was kept up with the s.s. "Geelong." The equator was crossed on about the twelfth day but, at the expressed wish of the Brigadier, King Neptune held no court.
Early on the 24th June the African coast, just south of Ras-Jard-Hafun, was sighted. Near here was observed the first ship seen since leaving Australia. A few dhows were visible close in shore, and in the bay sharks and rays could be discerned in motion. For a few hours attention was centred on this first glimpse of a foreign land. "The doctor has left off vaccinating us to go and admire the scenery," said one man in a letter home. The foreshore, cliffs, and mountains of Somaliland were searched with glasses for signs of habitations. So desolate, however, appeared the country, and so few the signs of life, that, as a diversion, the men cheered whenever an occasional school of porpoises or a solitary albatross came more closely under view. Cape Guardafui was passed soon after lunch, and the following evening the ship stopped her engines for half an hour in order to exchange messages with Aden, which was dimly visible through the thick bluish haze of stifling heat.
The 26th June witnessed the entrance to the Red Sea. The Master for the previous few days had seemed apprehensive in regard to possible enemy action. Consequently certain additional sentries had been posted and the machine guns mounted in positions that would give them effective arcs of fire. From now on the African coast was hugged, but little scenery was evident after passing Perim Island. Away to the north-east a momentary glimpse was obtained of Jebel Musa (Mt. Sinai). About this time the Southern Cross disappeared below the horizon.
The destination of the transport was still unknown, notwithstanding that gossip had mentioned Suez, Port Said, Alexandria, and even England. Nevertheless, preparations had to be made either for disembarkation at the first-named port or for the passage through the Canal. These were put in hand at once. About this time arose the first crop of rumours, or "furphies," which ever afterwards seemed to be an inseparable feature of military life. Perhaps one of the most extraordinary was to the effect that news had come on board of great anxiety existing in Western Australia over a supposed disaster to the ship and its living freight. As no such news had come on board the source of the rumour could not be traced. Subsequently, in letters received from the homeland, it was ascertained that such a rumour was actually current there coincident with its first being mentioned on the transport. Possibly its origin may be remotely connected with the fact that, simultaneously with the arrival of the "Ascanius" in the Gulf of Suez, a sister ship struck a mine at the entrance to the Bitter Lakes and had to be beached. The hull was visible to passengers on the Suez-Cairo railway.