It took me several days to get my bearings on the SS Morton Star as we headed for Australia in 1960. She was a thirty-five thousand ton cruise liner that had seen better days and most of her passengers were similar to me - young, and looking for a fresh life in Aussie.
     When we reached Port Said, we stayed five hours and then sailed down the Suez Canal to the Red Sea.
     I had noticed the big man strolling alone every day. He was perfectly dressed. There were no shorts or tee shirts and flip-flops for him; he wore suits, generally of a light colour, and brogue shoes. However, it was his Stetsons that you noticed the most.
     He looked a typical American, and that's what he turned out to be. I was finding it tough to make friends for there were many Europeans on board and few of them could speak English, but as I was looking over the fifth deck rail toward the coast, this fellow joined me.
     "I see the weather's getting better now," he said. "It usually does when you're heading for Aden."
     "I agreed. "I hope the weather holds."
     He glanced at me, and it was then I realised he had a bad squint.
     "Don't mind the eye," he said. "Just look at the good one."
     He had caught me somewhat off balance and he sensed it. "Don't walk out on me now. Everyone I speak to on this ship ignores me. They look at me once, and that's it - they make some excuse and get the hell out."
     I held out my hand. "I'm Paul Johnson."
     "I'm pleased to meet you, Paul. I'm Harry Roberts."
     His grip was powerful. Harry shoved his Stetson back a little. "Have you been this way before?"
     "No, the only traveling I've done was two years National Service in BAOR."
     "BAOR, that's British Army on the Rhine, isn't it?"
     "Yes."
     "Where are you heading?"
     "Sydney, Australia. I have a brother out there who I'll stay with until I've settled in and found a job."
     "Ah, so somebody in your family cares about you, huh?"
     "Yes, I've left my parents and two sisters behind. We've always got on well together."
     The American appeared wistful. "I wish I could say the same. I'm the fifth of seven children. We were a rich family and money was never a problem with us - not ever, but I was the one with the squint. When I was old enough, I realised why kids treated me different from other kids. They laughed at me - and that hurt. Nobody tried bullying me because I was always big for my age and now I'm six-four and two hundred and forty pounds so folks leave me alone." Harry looked at me again. "But I don't want to be alone. I want friends, friends who will look me in the eyes and not care if mine look in different directions at the same time."
     He glanced down at the waves. The day was warm and it would soon be lunchtime. He looked at me again. "I've been travelling the world since 1945. I never did time in the armed forces. When the war was over my father said to me, "I'm writing you a cheque for one hundred thousand dollars, Harry. Take it and leave. We don't want to see you again."
     The ship bumped over a large wave and we could see our distorted reflections in the rolling surf. "Yeah," he said, "there I was with no home, two heavy suitcases, a one hundred thousand dollar cheque and a kick in the pants to get me out of Texas."
     "Where did you go?"
     "I moved into Austin for a few days and put the one hundred thousand dollars into a fund that would pay me 9% per year so I could live on the interest. Then I travelled by coach to New York and I booked a cruise to Europe." He grinned at me. "I've been cruising ever since."
     "You've been cruising fifteen years?"
     "That's right. I complete one cruise and then I jump onto another cruise ship. Yeah, they know me on most ships - but they stare through me. I still don't get noticed."
     "It's something like that for me. I'm careful at making friends. I don't have many."
     "Oh, so you know what I'm talking about, huh?"
     "Yes."
     Harry smiled. "Things are improving - now there's two of us against the world."
     An alarm sounded for the first lunchtime sitting.
     Harry left the rail. "That's my call. I'll see you around, huh?"

     I saw Harry the following morning at a ten-thirty gathering in the Concert Room. If anybody wanted to sing, juggle, dance or tell jokes then they should hand in their names to the compere and his assistants on stage.
     Several folk came forward. The order was established and the first act was a Hungarian couple who performed a native dance where the man finished the act twirling around with the woman held above him. They deserved the applause. Other acts followed, and then there were no more.
     "Oh, come on, ladies and gentlemen," said the compere. "I'm sure there are more entertainers among you." Nobody moved. A group of children near the stage talked among themselves. The compere tried again and finally he stopped in front of Harry, who was at the edge of the stage near the exit.
     A hand mike appeared near Harry's face.
     "How about you, sir? You look just like an entertainer."
     I saw Harry go red. "Oh, no, not me," he said. "I can't sing and I can't dance either."
     The compere recognised Harry's accent. "I take it, sir, that you are American?"
     "Yes, I'm proud to say that I am."
     "Would you care to perform for America?"
     "No, not on this occasion."
     "Which state are you from, sir?"
     "I'm from Texas."
     "So they call you Tex?"
     "No, they call me Harry."
     "Could you sing a song for us, Harry?"
     "No, I'm sorry; I can't do anything like that."
     The compere stood up and looked at the crowd. "Do you want to see Harry - or shall we say, Tex - perform?"
     "Yes," said a child's voice.
     Harry looked at the group of children. "I'm very sorry, but I can't sing."
     There was silence for several seconds and then a child said, "Tell us a story, Uncle Tex."
     "Yeah, tell us a story, Uncle Tex," said another.
     Suddenly, you felt a tingle down your spine as at least twenty children gathered round Harry asking him to entertain them.
     The compere asked an assistant for another microphone and pushed it into Harry's hands, and said, "If you come up on the stage, Uncle Tex, I'm sure you will make them very happy."
     The children cheered.
     Harry's face was still red, but he sat on the edge of the stage and he began a story that was for the children only. He understood them; and they understood him.

     There were other days on board when you saw Harry with the children clustered round him as he related a tale, or read to them from a book. He looked happy and the children loved him.

     At last, a lonely man had found his destiny.

     Maybe in my later years, as I lose my memories, and the light begins to fade, one of the last things I will remember is those enthralled children.

     And Uncle Tex.