The life in question began on the 7th of September 1931 inside the old lime stone building of King Edward Hospital, alongside the rail line in Subiaco. Father John and mother Queenie were well pleased with their efforts, and in total produced three more sons Kevin, Patrick and Ray and daughter Margaret. John’s schooling began in Leederville, at St Joseph’s, where he “got his share of the cuts,” because he was no angel. Then it was off to Christian Brothers in Mt Hawthorn. All had not been well for the family though. John senior, a fitter and turner by trade, fought in the trenches in France during W.W. 1, suffering serious wounds which saw him invalided from the Army. In 1942 those wounds took their final toll; John died, leaving Queenie and her brood in a precarious financial position. As he’d not died during active service, beauracracy deemed Queenie ineligible for a War Widow’s Pension. Queenie had learned to be resourceful, having been orphaned and sent to Australia as a displaced person toward the end of W.W. 1, and now eked out a living taking in laundry and teaching dance. John (junior), as appropriate for the eldest son became man of the house whilst still attending school. Plenty of household chores fell to him, including getting out of bed early enough to make cut lunches for everyone. A few chooks in the backyard provided eggs and meat; to John fell the task of despatching the unfortunate birds whilst his younger siblings saw to the plucking. In post war times this was not an unusual state of affairs and John fitted into this role easily and with out fuss or resentment.
Brother Hyland of Christian Brothers, aware of the family’s plight, said, in regard to school fees “Just send in ten shillings when you can.” John’s academic achievements were adequate, and he loved sport at school, being of a quite competitive nature, but some of his football team mates were less than impressed when he became confused at the beginning of the second quarter of a match and kept kicking the wrong way. He had to be a bit careful, too, aged six, he’d suffered rheumatic fever and been diagnosed as having a weak heart, though the latter doesn’t seem to have slowed him up much over the years! The 110 and 220 yard sprints (anything longer was precluded by that heart) were favourite events though one Basil Worner always seemed able to push John back to second place. Little wonder – Worner ultimately became trainer to Herb Elliott!
John didn’t worry about a Leaving Certificate – as soon as he was able he left school to become apprenticed to R.P. McInernie and Co, learning to become an electrician, which included armature winding and electrical fitting and also earning much needed money. He thoroughly enjoyed the work and made several friendships there, some of which endure to this day.
Newly-weds and Ariel Club members Ron and Merle Cherrington moved in next door, beginning a life long friendship. Queenie remarked that they seemed to be a very compatible couple; Rocky wasn’t sure what “compatible” meant but now reckons his mother was pretty smart!
Riding his push bike through town one wet and miserable day Rocky came upon a policeman on point duty on the Barrack-Murray Street intersection. Seeing Rocky’s outstretched right arm the policeman beckoned him to the middle of the road and then said “Go now!” Thinking to show the officer a bit of wheelspin, Rocky stood on the pedals and gave a mighty thrust, the crank broke and Rocky’s tenderest bits landed forcefully on the cross bar. Bystanders were treated to the sight of a lad clinging to a policeman, crying his eyes out and fighting for breath.
Bill Stevenson and John became firm friends, both fatherless and both sharing a fascination with anything mechanical. Between them they bought a scruffy Levis two stroke, made it run OK and covered a good many fun filled unlicensed miles on the bike, mainly in the nightcart lanes.
The National Safety Council ran a school, teaching would-be motorcyclists to ride. Originally the venue was the member’s car park at Claremont Showgrounds, later the Metropolitan Markets were used, and it was here that John learned to ride.
The motorcycle dealers of Perth loaned bikes to the school and these had to be ferried from the dealerships each Saturday in time for the 2 ½ hour lesson that afternoon. Arriving with a bike one afternoon Rocky was told one instructor was unable to attend – would he, Rocky, care to fill in? You bet! and he quickly progressed to permanent instructor, then to Captain of the instructors. Many top line riders readily volunteered their time to teach at the school, with excellent results. A broad range of matters were addressed, too. Basic maintenance, including soldering cable nipples with a blow torch, chain care and puncture repairing were covered. The latter was particularly relevant; the Markets site was littered with nails as produce was traded in wooden boxes and the lids were not always carefully removed. Bikes without air cleaners, and fitted with manual ignition controls often backfired during starting and sometimes caught fire. A Norton 16H in the fleet was a regular offender and by lucky chance had a removable leather seat cover, so every pupil was taught “fire drill;” once burning, full throttle, operate the decompressor and keep kicking. An interesting starting technique for reluctant bikes was taught – engage first gear, back on compression, operate the decompressor and push without declutching. After five weeks the learners were assessed by John for their riding ability and the Police tested their knowledge of road rules. A pass in both and a licence was issued. You’d have to wonder why such a scheme doesn’t operate today; apparently it produced quite capable riders. The National Safety Council Executive Director was Leo Mayberry, a much respected and admired man. As a major in W.W. II he’d served with distinction in the Pacific, including the notorious Kokoda Trail. John credits Leo Mayberry with teaching him a great deal about life and considers he was fortunate indeed to have such a mentor during his formative years.
Also very influential in young John’s life was Professor Lindsay Wilkinson, teacher at the motor cycle school and Harley club rider of quality in several disciplines. The professor, who’s other task at the school was to teach the instructors the basics of teaching rode an ex Army B.S.A. Saturdays John would ride his push bike to the professor’s house and take the B.S.A. to school but was often invited to “go for a decent ride, bring it back tomorrow”. Music to his seventeen year old ears! Speedway featured a motor cycle acrobat at interval; many would have been surprised to learn the acrobat was Professor Lindsay Wilkinson.
Ken George of Victoria Park was impressed with the effort Rocky was giving the school, and telephoned him one day to say he’d just traded a good BSA Sloper
for eighteen pounds; would John be interested at that low figure? Most definitely! so Ken had the bike delivered forthwith but for some reason, minus exhausts.
John promptly cycled to Georges’ dealership and proceeded to ride home, no hands as both were holding the two exhaust pipes. The law took a dim view of this in Hay Street; fortunately the policeman was also involved with the rider training school so a “blind eye” was turned.
Money for petrol at 3 shillings and 4 pence per gallon (the same price as a bottle of beer!) was often scarce but the Sloper happily digested Shellite which could be had for 1/- a large bottle.
The Sloper needed a clutch pushrod. Rocky found a piece of round steel the appropriate diameter and made one, a simple enough task, but the BSA seemed to have an appetite for push rods, wearing them out in very short time, so Rocky made a couple of spares to carry with him.
A blacksmith, Les White, who was courting Queenie at the time, heard of the problem, bought home some cyanide in a match box and using the gas stove, showed how to harden the ends of the pushrod and eliminate the problem.
Les was a very large strong man with the most amiable disposition and eventually he and Queenie wed. The union produced three more brothers for John. It took a little time to adjust to these changes but Queenie’s obvious happiness dispelled any doubts about their new step father.
John now joined the AJS Club and became very active, riding each weekend whichever branch of the sport was offered – club sports, hill climbs, scrambles, trials, even economy runs, and started road racing. The BSA sloper was his first serious mount but a ride on a 3T Triumph proved so good John bought one. He managed to win the Mooliabeenie Clubmans T.T. on this delightful but underpowered machine; almost inevitably with all the opposition on 500s the 3T was replaced by a 1949 spring hub Speed Twin. He also bought a 350 ZB Gold Star for road racing. The National Safety Council provided John with a 1951 AJS 350 for his private use and for teaching duties. This was a very good bike.
Motorcycling was something of a Jekyll and Hyde business for John now – on Saturday, and on the roads weekdays riding in a most disciplined and defensive manner; on Sunday a fierce competitor of rapidly growing skill and daring.
Naturally, exploring the limits of bike and rider produced it’s fair share of crashes.
Ray Thomas, a club member who had been through the war, became friend and mentor to John and the two of them would regularly check out the shed of fellow competitor and neighbour Charlie Lawson. One such visit saw Charlie seeming very on edge and agitated so after their late night cuppa they departed, unknowingly leaving Charlie to fit a high compression piston and alcohol settings to his Norton thus giving himself a nice advantage over his visitors next day, the last day of the Club championship.
Aged twenty, and John completed his apprenticeship. Perth at this time was changing its electricity supply from 40 to 50 cycles, a mammoth task requiring modification to virtually anything electrical. Electricians were in demand, more so if they had armature winding experience so John was snapped up by the S.E.C., given an Ariel VB and sidecar and spent the next two years helping effect the change. His first ride on a sidecar – Charlie Lawson’s – was memorable, but for the wrong reasons. Charlie said “You’ll probably crash first time you turn left, anyhow away you go” and John obliged by doing just that!
During this time John had a ride on New Australian Norm Boston’s 197 Dot scrambler and rated the purpose-built bike superb. Then he saw a Francis-Barnett 197 and ordered one, telescopic forks, swinging arm and four speed gearbox. The Francis Barnett was brand new so John spent the first weeks riding it to work and running in. He was very disappointed that one of the rear dampers was falling apart so he took it back to Brookings. “I’m sorry” said the foreman, “it’s a competition machine, no warranty”. John was only a kid really and a bit taken aback, when one of the mechanics said “I’ll have a look at it in my lunch hour Mr Ventriss.” And that beaut guy was George Scott! On this machine, standard except John had blue printed the ports, John emerged as a truly quality rider, winning virtually everything in his class, including the 1955 Australian 250cc Scramble title at the Harley Scramble course.
Road racing was most enjoyable too, but appropriate machinery was needed so Rocky bought a Triumph T100, which had been fitted with a race kit and improved by Gibson Brothers, Harry & Wally, noted tuners of the breed. This was a rather expensive piece of gear and had sat in a dealer’s, gradually reducing in price, for almost a year by which time it became affordable. The bike went like a rocket and even handled acceptably and John was confident and excited as he faced the starter at Geraldton. In Rocky’s words “It was the ‘A’ Grade scratch race, so off we went in a hurry with Scotty in front as usual and that left Don Leadbetter and me to have fun together. I could still see Scotty after nine laps (that was unheard of for me!) and then he stopped and I got the chequered flag. All of a sudden road racing was easy!” A proud moment indeed, but the elation was short lived. The mighty Triumph did what many highly tuned Triumphs did. The engine later blew up leaving Rocky coasting to a dejected, silent, expensive stop. John didn’t see much future for the machine as a race bike so he rebuilt the engine back to standard and sold it.
Late in 1955 fellow scrambler Ollie Strang (junior), Ron Edwards and Rocky decided to go to U.K. and see why riders there were so good. They took the “Orontes” in February 1956; Ollie decided to stay in London because the comp Matchless he wanted to buy would be happier near the factory. Ron and Rocky proceeded to Birmingham and took digs in Acocks Green. Ron got stuck into scrambling, bought a 350 Goldie, but had to earn an International competition license by coming in at least 5th in a National Event. That was difficult, because every time a National was held in England, all the fraternity of International riders who were making good starting money on the Continent would appear at home to protect their turf and keep other would be’s like Ron out. But Ron outsmarted them. He went to the Isle of Man with Rocky and won the Douglas Head National Scramble and got a license. He did quite well on the 350, doing it the hard way, mostly on trains and ferries. Late in 1956 the Suez crisis blew up and Ron said he didn’t want any part of war, so he headed home to take up his C.P. land or he’d miss out.
John had put a lot of time and effort into the rider training school, gaining the trust and gratitude of
Perth’s motorcycle dealers. Every dealer provided John with a letter of introduction to their English
factory; in the event, the first letter he presented, that of Mortlocks, was all he needed. The James
factory immediately offered John a ride in the Scottish Six Day, alongside their regular rider and
top level competitor, Brian Povey. The James’ handlebars were too wide for John’s liking, so,
encouraged by Povey and Co he sawed three inches off each end. Then it was gleefully revealed
the bars actually belonged to one Billy Nicholson, a top level rider and a very large Irishman with a
pretty tough reputation. John worked daytime in a service station; one day Nicholson arrived so
John found plenty to do out the back, out of sight. Povey and Co had a wonderful time teasing
John but their predictions as to his dreadful fate went unfulfilled.
The bike was John’s to use so he rode every weekend, gaining confidence and experience and
improving all the time. The first Scottish John rode in had a pleasant finish to a fair first day. The
last section was the famous Town Hall Brae in the middle of Fort William, very tough. As he was
queued up for his turn, Norman Hooton, who was the Lodge plug man gave John a telegram. Dear
Norman please give this to John before he goes up the Brae. “RIDING WITH YOU, BILL YOUNG
AND AJAY CLUB”. Into second and straight to the top!
In total he rode three “Scottish”, gaining 2 first class awards. Between each observed section of
trials there were transport sections sometimes as long as ten miles and John was very surprised to
find the riders all covered this distance “flat out”. Then he realised this gave them maximum time
to look over the next section and perhaps observe a few rider’s lines. Also, it was good fun!
In virtually any sport, much can be learned by following competitors of greater skill or experience
and trials were no exception. During these transport sections Rocky would observe faster rider’s
braking points from behind by watching their left foot and this worked well for him until he followed
a rider on a European machine and nearly ran into the back of him. Watching the left foot tells you
nothing when when the European brake pedal is on the right!
Socialising with other riders and factory testers filled many a pleasant hour. When the latter from
various factories around Birmingham gathered during working hours for a cuppa, their bikes would
all be left outside the caff on the centre stand, in gear with the engine running, to keep the
odometer ticking over.
No motorcyclist goes to the U.K. without a visit to the Isle of Man. Rocky planned to be there for
the 1956 races and Lady Luck smiled on him.
The “Green ‘Un” ran a competition, wherein readers had to identify the subject of a photograph,
usually a bike part pictured from an odd angle. A delighted Rocky won the prize offered – a trip to
the island with a week’s hotel accommodation included! His good fortunes continued to run hot.
The island was a fabulous experience but better things awaited. He travelled with the Girling
representative who had a girl friend on the island; the three of them got on well enough together
but naturally the happy couple wanted time to themselves. After much persuading, one of the
girlfriend’s work mates at the local telephone exchange, Maureen Quine reluctantly agreed to
partner “this Australian” for an evening as a blind date. At 5’8” Maureen was quite tall, so on went
4” stilettos – she’d tower above “this Australian” probably and keep him firmly in place. That
evening, two guys stepped from the car, one short the other tall. “Bet the short one is for me”
thought Maureen, “Pity,as the taller one looks a bit of OK.” In the event she proved an ideal
companion for tall gentleman Rocky, they had a wonderful evening together and Rocky decided
he’d not be leaving the island just yet!
By virtue of their team’s winning the 1956 event, Czechoslovakia earned the right to host the 1957
International Six Day Trial. This presented the British Motor Cycle industry and their contracted
riders with an immediate problem. Britain was not permitted to sell even a token amount of their
products in Czechoslovakia, so why should they spend large amounts of money showcasing their
wares there? Arguments raged back and forth – “Sport should be free of commercial control” and
“Commercial activity underpins such sport – win on Sunday, sell on Monday”. “The whole motor
cycle world follows the Six Days so you’ll get your exposure” and so forth. Ultimately the British
industry met and unanimously agreed to boycott the event. Italy were runners-up in the 1956
event; they didn’t buy British bikes either, so that possible option had minimal appeal.
George Lynn published a monthly magazine in Australia titled “Victorian Motor Cycle News.” West
Australian Jack Herbert, in London, acted as the U.K. correspondent for this publication but Jack
had to return to Australia. He nominated John as a suitable replacement and John agreed; mostly
it was a matter of sending results from British events to George Lynn.
After the British boycott of the Six Days was announced the Czechoslovak Consulate approached
Lynn in Australia with the suggestion that an Australian team of riders might like to compete in the
trial on Jawa and C.Z. machines. George Lynn thought this an excellent idea but immediately saw
the danger to his magazine should it become known he supported the concept – by far the largest
part of his income was provided through British bike dealer’ s advertising. Quick thinking provided
an answer. “Contact my agent in London, a Mr John Rock; he’ll arrange everything,” and Rocky
was hastily appraised of the deal with the plea “for Heaven’s sake, keep my name out of it!” What
an opportunity! Tim Gibbes had recently won “The Advertiser” 2 Day Trial in South Australia for
the third time, had I.S.D.T. experience in the UK and was a formidable performer in scrambles.
One phone call to London secured his enthusiastic entry. Finally, a toss of a coin saw Les Fisher
given the third rider’s berth with Roy East to be team manager. John logically enough was named
Team Captain and his first task in this role was to inform the British press of his team’s intentions.
The team entered as an Australian Club team; the regulations in force prevented entry as an
Australian National team and their entry was made through the A.C.U. of Great Britain.
Tim Gibbes had an Austin A40 utility which became the new team transport. The trusty Austin
carried three of them to Turin where their fourth member, Les Fisher had ridden in an international
scramble; now there were four squashed into the cab, it being too cold by far to ride in the tray.
This somewhat cramped but good natured journey terminated in Prague, where hotel
accommodation awaited, then it was off to Spindleruv Mlyn, venue of the trial, just South of the
Polish border.
The first tankfull of Czech petrol digested by the mighty Austin had so low an octane rating it rattled
the big end bearings out of the vehicle. A telegram was despatched to
R.A.C. in England requesting immediate supply of big end shells in all sizes; these duly arrived and
were fitted by Roy East during the last day there.
It was here, finally, the Jawa hierarchy handed over the team machines, suggesting the riders
might like to prepare their own bikes. The Jawas were fitted with a gear pedal which, on first
movement disengaged the clutch; the second part of the movement changed gear and re-engaged
the clutch. Rocky (or ‘Aus’ as he was now being called) wasn’t sure he liked this feature and his
suspicions were well founded when his lack of experience with the system landed him
unceremoniously on his backside on cobblestones on the first day. That aside, the machines were
well designed and engineered and rode well. Their material specification wasn’t up to scratch
though and parts wore out in unexpectedly short time with chains stretching to unusable levels
almost immediately. John paid particular attention to his machine’s electrics, including rolling wire
ends into a ball Lucas style, and re-attaching, telling his team mates of his modifications. He also
noted the throttle didn’t facilitate a quick cable change and so hacksawed a slot in the body, only to
have a Jawa mechanic show how to quickly change a broken cable. It may have been a
coincidence that John’s bike electrics performed faultlessly whilst Tim Gibbes’ suffered repeated
electrical faults.
The start of the 1957 I.S.D.T. was cold, wet and miserable, with near gale force winds. The
organisers had at their disposal three time schedules designed to accommodate varying weather
and terrain. Inexplicably, they declared Schedule ‘A’ to be used; this schedule was the fastest,
designed for use in good conditions! Obviously it was the same for everyone but it meant the day
was incredibly tough; fifty riders retired on that first day! John sat on the start line waiting his turn
when someone yelled out “Hey Aus, that’s #140 just taken off, you’d better go!” so John took off
like a rocket and still doesn’t know what “one hundred and thirty-nine” (his number) sounds like
when it’s announced in German or Czech!
The day was exhausting, he fell off on the cobblestones as previously noted but John happily
finished just on time for the day.
Day two and the same Schedule ‘A’ was used, once more in awful conditions. More cobblestones,
more mist, rain and mud. John approached the brow of a hill and noticed a heavy blue haze on the
hill in front and soon learned to recognise the significance of this. It was two stroke smoke
generated by dozens of riders, fallen, or stuck in bogs or trying to coax their machines up near
vertical climbs. This scenario was repeated several times and John treated it the same way each
time – wring the bike’s neck, get into the highest gear possible, stand on the footrests at all costs to
keep weight on the back wheel for traction and GO! So nice to arrive above all the smoke and
mist, into the clear air high up. Interestingly, the Soviet riders took the opposite approach. Big
strong men all of them, the product no doubt of State-sponsored training, they started paddling at
the first hint of wheelspin and were seemingly happy to keep on so doing for as long as necessary.
Even for these very fit strong men it must have been physically very demanding. Rocky was
penalised one mark for lateness at the final check but protested this as he’d been baulked by two
riders ahead of him at the checkpoint. He was informed next day his protest was upheld so he
finished the day with a clean slate.
Day Three, and the organisers declared Schedule ‘B’ to prevail. John nearly came to grief early. A
bog had rail sleepers laid to make it passable but the sleepers were laid length-ways with gaps
between. The Jawa front wheel fell into one such gap, wrecking the front mudguard. Officials
agreed the mudguard should be replaced for safety, and Jawa had a guard on hand. John
however had only ten minutes to fit this – not possible! The solution? – have your team manager
distract the Jawa people, scrunch the guard up and jam it into place, line it up as best you can and
secure. All in less than ten minutes! Then attach the old guard to your back; as a marked part, it
had to finish with the bike.
All major components of machines are marked at the beginning of the event, this being intended to
prevent replacement parts being fitted. All marked parts must be present at the finish.
Day Four and Five – more of the same – vile weather and very difficult terrain. Tim Gibbes
emphasised to the team “You must never, never, let anyone take your helmet, you can’t ride
without it and you won’t get a replacement”. Good advice! John had quite a hard fall near the top
of a very rough hill and lay there feeling very groggy whilst the first aid crew removed his helmet in
the course of checking his state of health. Gibbes’ words were still prominent in his befuddled
brain so he insisted he retain a grip on his helmet. In due course he began to feel human again
and was able to continue.
Day Six. “Kamikaze!” is how John describes the day. The riders were split into three groups for
speed tests, John and fellow U.K. competitor Eric Chilton, riding a Triumph Trophy 650 both in
group 3. A mile long downhill road was followed by a zig zag section. Riders were not shutting off
and were falling and crashing all around. Rocky’s road race experience proved invaluable,
allowing him to press on fast and safe, “having lots of fun” as he put it. He was the only competitor
the mighty Triumph of Chilton was unable to lap but the Jawa was a tired second hand old motor
bike at the end.
The Dukla Hotel in the very picturesque town of Spindleruv Mlyn provided a well deserved contrast
to the six days of incredible effort, hosting the prize giving with a lavish dinner. Rocky and his team
were delighted to find the organisers had made sure there were English-speaking waiters
attending. Talk at the table was of two subjects. Rocky carried a photograph of Maureen which he
proudly passed around. Subject one: how did one such as Rocky get to carry a picture of so
charming a lady? Subject two: the Six Days.
Each day covered about 250 miles – 400 kilometres. It’s interesting to try and put a little
perspective on these numbers. The distance is just less than that of Perth to Albany. Take a fifties
motor cycle, no electric start of course, and pretty basic comfort then ride to Albany in fine weather.
With varying traffic conditions and stops for bike and body fuel, you’d arrive well satisfied with a
good day’s ride, ready for a drink and a comfortable seat. You’d have been on good tar sealed
roads all the way.
The Six Day competitors rode on terrain so rough and steep in places walking was impossible,
through bogs so deep one exhausted rider stepped off his axle-deep bike and it remained standing
– all this in foul weather and against the clock. And then of course the rider had to maintain the
bike, so he could go out tomorrow and do it all again. And the next day, and the next …. No
wonder contemporary reports tell of riders riding at snail’s pace due to exhaustion. Rocky well
remembers on numerous occasions thinking “Why the hell am I doing this? Why can’t I get off this
violently bucking bloody horrible machine and find somewhere dry and warm to rest my aches and
pains?”
It had been an exceptionally tough “Six Days”, in part because the weather turned so foul. Of 246 starters, 151 retired and only 26 competitors won gold medals for finishing without penalty. Rocky finished with the loss of 39 points and a bronze medal, an outstanding result for a first time competitor. In the final wash-up, general opinion reckoned this had been the toughest ISDT to date, but it hadn’t been too tough, after all, it was an international event, and those 26 competitors did finish without penalty.
C.Z. were sufficiently impressed by Rocky’s talent to offer him a bike for the next “Scottish.” Despite this offer being made by the export manager and the chief engineer, the bike never materialised. And even later, subsequent to Rocky’s return to Perth, a promised C.Z. duly did arrive but local agents, Brookings, placed such unrealistic and costly demands on Rocky he politely declined to take the ride.
John had some time before he decided he’d finished with road racing – a fortunate decision as Maureen, a Manx woman, was too familiar by far with the dangers of that branch of the sport and wouldn’t marry a road racer.
That sorted, they became man and wife on 10th June 1958 and moved to Perth shortly afterwards. The newlywed’s arrival in Fremantle aboard the “Strathaird” was not without drama. The vessel was anchored in Gage Roads to take aboard Pilot and Customs when Mr and Mrs John Rock were summoned to the Purser’s office. Anxiously complying, they were greeted by no less than four Customs Officers, all of whom knew Rocky and demanded to kiss the bride!
Maureen’s parents were naturally sad their only daughter was now half a world away. John had taken a Gold Star 350 home in boxes; this he now assembled and sold, the proceeds paying for a trip home for Maureen. Her folks visited Perth in the early 70’s, liked it well enough that they returned home, sold up and emigrated.
Stepfather Les found John a job immediately with P.W.D. as an electrical maintenance engineer; it paid the bills but wasn’t a life long career. Channel 2 advertised for an electrician which sounded much more interesting. Maureen wrote John’s C.V., obviously writing it very well because out of seventy applicants, one J Rock was hired. Alan Hullett, one of the engineers conducting the interview said “I owe you thanks anyhow– you may remember kicking the wrong way in a footy match. I was in the other team – Highgate C.B.C.! and we won!
The A.J.S.M.C.C. naturally welcomed the return of Rocky who not only was an enthusiastic competitor in several disciplines, but also served as event organiser and then Vice President of that club for twelve years, working with such big contributors as Harold Hodgkinson, Alf Carstairs and Ern Serls.
Then, in 1962 with a good local record in trials on the Francis Barnett, John decided it was time for a tilt at the first Australian Trials Championship, to be held in Melbourne, a long way away. Just as John was thinking the distance too much, Charlie Lawson came to the rescue with a truck driver who’d agreed to take bike and rider as part of a routine trip, with the proviso he receive some help with the driving.
“I told him you could drive a 30 ton truck”, said Charlie, “You can, can’t you?” John could, and drove most of the way while the truckie enjoyed a rest, though a wrong turn in South Australia strained relations a bit, causing back tracking 20 miles. John won that Australian title on his trusty Fanny-B, but then faced the problem of returning home. He had enough funds to take a train for himself but the bike, to be carried in the Guard’s van, was overweight for his luggage allowance. This called for a bit of Rock ingenuity. He removed the engine/gearbox unit, wrapped it in newspaper and fitted rope as a handle. The bike was now within weight allowance and accepted; John had to nonchalantly walk on with his “hand luggage” threatening to dislocate his arm! He succeeded.
VMCC member Ray Oakes suggested Rocky might find the activities of that club to his liking and offered a ride on his Grindley. This proved to be very enjoyable not least because he was able to renew a lot of old acquaintances so he joined the Club forthwith, enjoying the activities and riding in several national rallies, Wheels West and the 1983 Rally to New Zealand organised by Ray Oakes, as well as regularly supporting local events.
Riding in a VMCC event from Perth, John’s 1925 P model Triumph performed well until Pemberton when the bike’s piston, a very elegant thin walled cast iron item, collapsed. Most would put the bike on the back-up trailer and enjoy the luxury of a comfy ride home, but not Rocky.
The Triumph piston shared diameter and weight with the alloy item found in the Chrysler Valiant “slant six” engine. Pemberton didn’t offer a motor wrecker’s yard so with plenty of encouragement from Barry Makin, John, Ron Cherrington and Barry boarded the latter’s long-suffering Zenith V twin combination and set off for Manjimup. A wrecker there had a Valiant for wrecking but the car was still standing complete, on its wheels. The obliging wrecker offered the team a free hand, so, in very short order the Valiant was tipped onto its side and enough components removed to allow withdrawal of a piston and connecting rod. The wrecker was so impressed by the industry of the team he wouldn’t charge for the piston and bade them farewell. Back at Pemberton, the Chrysler gudgeon pin proved totally incompatible with the Triumph con rod. Some hacksaw work cut both rods into carefully measured halves, some welding joined the appropriate halves, and, incredibly the Triumph was mobile again. The bike finished the rally without complaint and in fact still runs as well as ever on its hybrid con rod!
A retired civil servant sought a live-in couple as housekeepers, a position the new Mr & Mrs Rock filled; this enabled them to live rent-free and save enough to buy the block they still own in Balcatta though in those days Balcatta was regarded as “South Geraldton.” In a move designed to prop up the building industry loans were only readily available for new houses so a new house was the logical choice, this being completed in 1961. In 1962 nappies on the line and the subsequent patter of little feet announced the arrival of son Michael, followed by Kathy and finally Linda. Michael is currently this club’s Post Vintage Dating Officer and has just completed 29 years service in the Royal Australian Navy retiring with the rank of Lieutenant Commander.
Kathy, now too busy with motherhood, rode in many VMCC events during which time the club needed to raise money to build the parts department and library. With help from Ron Morrison’s daughter, who ran a clothes shop, Kathy called in a few favours in the modelling world and staged a fashion parade, with emphasis on women’s motor cycle clothing, at the Osborne Park Hotel. This raised over $1000, a huge boost to the club’s finances.
The three children have now provided John and Maureen with 7 grandpebbles.
Work at Channel 2 was all that Rocky had hoped it would be, presenting challenges as the relatively new medium grew. Outside broadcast equipment was purchased requiring power boxes to be designed and installed on power poles, in conjunction with S.E.C. Channel 2 had all this wonderful gear and not much to use it for so Rocky was asked if his motor cycle club had any events which might make good television. This resulted in scrambles at Herne Hill being televised; later on a ten minute clip of a trial in Mt Helena proved so popular a full trial was televised.
This event was repeated several times. One trial John set in 1969 had a difficult section involving steps going behind a waterfall; Bill Young took one look and said “you’re crazy, that’s far too hard!” but to John’s delight, the last rider to attempt the section, Mike Thorpe, on a Tiger Cub recorded a “clean.”
One result of all this publicity saw a photograph of Don Fawell appear on the front page of the “Sunday Times.” This was the first time such events had been presented on television in Australia, and presented live because video tape was not yet in use.
One broadcast showed young Michael and Kathy sitting beside a section, beneath a tree; the following shot showed Chas Finch crashing into some trees and the crowd, but before detailing the outcome of this accident the broadcast cut to another camera, leaving Maureen (and no doubt many others) watching at home anxiously, sitting by the phone for five hours.
In 1992 the V.M.C.C and the Veteran Car Club commenced negotiations to build our current parts shed-library. Rocky was appointed VMCC ngegotiator, helping to thrash out an agreement in which VMCC and VCC would own the shed equally, but the VCC be allowed use of more than their half due to the bulky nature of their inventory. The shed was duly erected, a VCC member obtained all the required light fittings, John Moorhead, then manager at Cable Makers supplied cable and VMCC stalwarts Vic Richardson, Ian Fleming, Jack Berkshire and Mark Wallace teamed with Rocky to complete the installation. Bert Holmes contributed a lot of finishing work to the structure.
John’s view of some of his contemporaries is interesting.
George Scott, a truly nice man who was undisputed #1 in local road racing had a unique and awesomely fast cornering technique.
Speaking of the 1953 Isle of Man T.T. where he recorded 14th in the Junior and 21st in the Senior on the same A.J.S. 7R machine, George said “You can’t hope to learn the whole 37.5 mile course first time there, so you learn what you can and use that knowledge, for the rest, stick to the middle of the road and go as fast as you can.”
Charlie Lawson, who could always find a little bit more when really pressed – you had to sneak up on Charlie to pass him, no use following and planning, he’d leave you behind. Tyre chains (for traction) were employed in adverse conditions during winter. Charlie had used chains at a Parkerville event to advantage when one competitor protested the “chain season” was over. A heated argument ensued, Charlie had a bit of a dummy spit, took his tyre chain off and flung his machine, complete with bald rear tyre round the course to record the fastest time of the event.
Bill Young, a champion who rode with supreme confidence in speedway, road racing and trials. Bill also turned “gamesmanship” into an art form!
Rocky arrived home one day in 1986 and announced to a surprised wife and family Channel 2 had offered staff a voluntary redundancy package, which he’d accepted. He didn’t retire though. After two years as an electrical contractor he was very proud, as a fifty-eight year old, to be offered electrical maintenance work at the Sunday Times, which position he happily accepted, beginning a very fulfilling eight years in an excellent workplace.
Retirement in 1996 provided the opportunity to work on bikes, attend the Bendigo Swap Meet regularly, make two trips to the Isle of Man, one on his seventieth birthday, and to ride bikes whenever the opportunity offered.
In recent times a couple of age-related health hiccups, some possibly related to the five fractures suffered during his career have slowed him a little but he’s currently restoring a Triumph T100 for Kathy and a fascinating 1924 Henderson 4 cylinder 1300cc. Talking over past races, victories and crashes with Cec Sumpton and others fills many an enjoyable hour too.
John Rock