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Warm royal welcome, down to a T

By John Mikkelsen - posted Thursday, 31 March 2022


Unfortunately, events in Australia and overseas took the limelight away from the special memorial service for Prince Philip in Westminster Abbey this week, but I don’t think Philip would have minded  in the least.

Australians were more concerned about renewed flooding in Southeast Queensland and Northern New South Wales, or how well they would fare in the Federal Budget cash splash, while overseas attention was more focussed on brave Ukranians successfully resisting the Russian invaders.

Some Royal  watchers weren’t impressed when Queen Elizabeth entered through a side door on the arm of her second son Andrew, recently the subject of a prolonged sex scandal which only ended after a massive payout to his accuser.

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What would Philip have thought about this apparent sign of a mother forgiving a wayward son? Probably, it would be a thumbs up and a “Good on you, Liz”.

That was the Philip I like to remember and it revived thoughts of how he was unjustly accused of being a racist after an off the cuff remark to an indigenous leader during an Australian tour years ago: “Do you people still throw spears at each other?”

Shock, horror! But that was no doubt inspired by what he witnessed in Townsville way back in 1954 on the royal couple’s first Australian tour. I saw it too, and I have included it the following excerpt from my new Amazon Books Memoir, Don’t Call Me Nev, to set the record straight.

I've always admired the Royal Consort, Prince Philip, as a bloke who spoke his mind no matter what, and was sad to hear of his passing at the ripe old age of 99.

Now, you couldn't describe my wife as a Monarchist with her Irish Catholic ancestry on her mother's side, but she shares my feelings about Philip. Cathy's interest in the Royals is usually confined to weddings and the frequent scandals such as the fire storm ignited by the controversial Oprah interview of their grandson Harry and his American wife Megan Markle.

But as the TV cameras zoomed in for a close-up of Queen Elizabeth a while back, she was obviously impressed:

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"Liz still has beautiful skin".

"Mmmm," I agreed, without glancing up from my car magazine.

"No, look, she hasn't a wrinkle," she insisted.

"Well, she's a Pom, they don't go out in the sun," I responded, finally looking up at the coverage which was dominating a good part of the evening news.

Suddenly our thoughts collided. We were back in February 1954, the year after Queen Elizabeth's Coronation and her first visit to Australia as Monarch with Prince Philip by her side.

The royals visited 57 towns and cities during the whirlwind 58 days they spent in Australia. They traversed the country by plane, train, ship and car from Cairns in the north, Broken Hill in the west to Hobart in the south, probably missing little Princess Anne and Prince Charlie back at Buckingham Palace.

" I had to wait in the sun for hours to wave to her at Bundaberg," Cathy said.

"So did I, all morning and much of the afternoon, at Townsville. It really is a small world."

My thoughts travelled back to that long, hot tropical day, embedded in my mind along with other momentous events such as President Kennedy's assasination, the Moon landing and the Day Elvis died.

Thousands of school children had assembled on some sports fields to spell out "Welcome to Townsville" in large letters in the hope that Elizabeth and Philip would glance out the window and be impressed as their plane approached the airport.

I hope they did, it was hard work, requiring much marshalling on the part of supervisors and then hours of patient waiting under a scorching sun.

Some kids fainted, but they were probably townies, not part of the small bush contingent from Stuart, like me. We had travelled into the city earlier that morning on the Railmotor, then trekked a couple of miles to the mass assembly point.

Some soldiers waiting in line to take the royal salute also suddenly keeled over.

I suppose they supplied drinking water, but I was used to wandering off for the day, drinking out of running creeks or digging holes in the moist sand during the dry season, so I don't remember being particularly thirsty. Just bored.

Finally the Royal couple arrived, young and in their prime, riding in the back of an open Land Rover, waving to the crowd. We cheered and waved back, then the long-awaited entertainment began.

Some Palm Islanders really turned it on and left a lasting picture in a young boy's mind. Forget Charlie Drake's old 60's hit, My Boomerang Won't Come Back – these islanders had them whizzing high in the air or spinning towards the crowds before they'd turn and zoom back to the thrower's hand.

They peeled coconuts with their bare teeth, then lit fires using a couple of sticks, but the best part was the spear throwing.

These days the precision display would be M Rated, or at least come with the warning, "Don't try this at home, kids."

The spear throwers weren't mucking about and they used each other as moving targets. They didn't carry large shields like some African counterparts, just sticks which they deftly used to flick the spear away at the last possible moment.


Philip had developed a deserved reputation over the years for a wacky sense of humour, which has often been interpreted as foot in mouth disease, but I think on one occasion at least, this was totally unwarranted.

During a visit to a Queensland Aboriginal Cultural Centre in 2002, he casually asked an indigenous leader, "Do you still throw spears at each other?"

Shock, horror! He didn't anticipate the media storm that generated, with accusations of condescending racism and bad taste. But I think his mind was back when, as a young man in a white Naval officer's suit, he was entertained by some skilled indigenous protagonists under a hot Townsville sun.

If you're up there reading this, Philip, I was a small part of the letter 'T'; the one with no shoes…

(Footnote: There is unlikely to be any concerted campaign to dump traditional ties with the Royals or the Motherland while Liz still rules, but that will probably change dramatically if her "woke" son, Prince Charles, ever succeeds her.

A clued-up contact told me recently, " If Charles outlives his mother, I'll become a Republican, no matter how bad the nominee for President is."

I'm not sure I'd go quite that far if the candidates included either of a pair of former prime ministers who continue to haunt the political scene like miserable ghosts. Time will tell.

But King Charles? I won't be out in the sun, waving)

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About the Author

John Mikkelsen is a long term journalist, former regional newspaper editor, now freelance writer formerly of Gladstone in CQ, but now in Noosa. He is also the author of Amazon Books memoir Don't Call Me Nev.

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