Hold on

Today the local school had a spring fair and the five year old from my house went on his first legitimate carnival ride. It was a small one, but: it had a harness, spun around quickly and was probably safe.


As he whipped around, 70cm off the ground in a colourful ring of squealing children, steadily looking sicker with every rotation, a vision began to fill my mind of my own childhood and a theme park ride. It’s a blurry recollection and so this recounting will be equally fuzzy. There is a real chance that I actually only have a memory of being told this story and I’ve managed to fill in my own first-person point of view.


When I was 5 or 7 we took a trip to Sydney, it was a long drive, or train ride and we had fun, or didn’t, I can’t remember. What I do remember is Luna Park. Firstly the giant face. Secondly my dad took me and my brother on a dodgy wooden roller coaster. The track frames were wood, the superstructure was wood and the little cart was wood with a simple metal bar that hinged forward across our legs to hold us in place.


The cart was small, but so were we and the 3 of us fit. Dad in the middle, me and Dave on either side. I think we were wearing overalls, you know with shorts legs and bright T-shirt from the 1980s under. At first it was fun, the roller coaster chugged and climbed as we looked around at the harbour and crowds below. As the speed picked up and the bouncing and swerving kicked in I stopped having fun and was interested in the whole thing being over.


I remember a section in which the car zoomed around in a descending spiral motion as if it was whipping around the inside of a cylinder. The car lent over and followed the track down, around and down. At this point I’d had enough and began to climb out of the cart, my fun time was over and I was going home. My father suitably panicked and tightened his grip on my little body. Realising the good sense in all this, David decided to also get out as the car rocked around a sharp roller coaster bend.


This, I image, was a terrible moment for my dad. 2 boys of 3 and 5, or 4 and 6 scrambling in deranged fear to exit the tiny vehicle which was actually keeping them safe. Fighting with all the strength and wiles granted to him my dad managed to hold on and keep us inside and calm enough to climb out at the end of the ride with the rest of the happy and excited children.


And so here I am, 35-37 years later watching my own boy spin relentlessly around while staying firmly on his carnival ride seat. “Hold on boy” I thought to myself, “hold on”.