I began my eulogy to my father that I read in St Mary's Church in Roxby, North Lincolnshire in September 2010, I started it with the old Mark Twain adage that when he was fourteen, he thought his father knew nothing, but by the time he was twenty-one, he was amazed how much his father had learned in seven years. I guess it goes without saying that any son or daughter could fill a book with what they don't know about their parents. The book I wrote some time ago about Dad, (and yes, yes, the next one should be completed within the year), contained at least something of what I did know about him, and at least one of those things I wrote was wrong.
The photo to the left was taken on the SS Auriga, whe ship that succeeded the Empire Windrush after it was retired some time in late April 1956. My father, Max LeBlanc, is on the left. The man on the right is Mr John Caprice, whom I had the honour of speaking to a couple of years ago. Amongst the many things we discussed, the nature of the event that precipitated Dad's hand being bandaged came to light.
In the narrative of my book, the protogonist, Tio Mourillon, injures his hand with a machete whilst stripping a coconut. I think that's what my mother - who clearly had not met him at that time, given that he was yet to set foot on English soil - may have told me, I hope I'm not doing her a disservice. By the way, just to clarify why he is called Tio Mourillon in hte book, Tio was Dad's pet name as a child, Mourillon was my grandmother Elmie Mourillon's maiden name. it was helpful to rename him for artistic reasons, (and possibly legal ones, who knows?).
I perhaps ought to have questioned why someone experienced in working the land, as my dad certainy was, would make such an error. It turns out he didn't. It turned out that Dad and a gentleman called Rosie Douglas were 'swordfighting' with machetes on the boat from Portsmouth to Roseau in Dominica. I mean, what could possibly go wrong?