Delivered by His Sister Lindy Kerr

Eulogy for

Michael Wyndham Hudson 10-03-1933 …………27-02-2005

Delivered by his sister Lindy Kerr

I am honoured to have been asked by Carla & my nephews to speak to you about my brother Michael.

I can tell you a little of the man I knew and loved. As a child he was my hero and he will always be that.

We are a large family and each of us hold our own special memories of Mike, as I am sure do many here today.

To us he had many hats. He was a father, a grandfather, a brother, an uncle, great-uncle, cousin, and of course, Carla’s husband.

To each of us he gave his “TIME” , and it was given generously, and thoughtfully. It was true “quality time”. He listened, advised, supported, cared for & nurtured family relationships with that strong sense of duty and commitment so characteristic of him.

His most meaningful family role though was as Carla’s husband and his life with their sons, Matthew, Tim & Angus – and now their families.

As a naval wife, Carla’s life must have had special challenges. She would face these in her own practical, matter-of-fact way, and hold the fort well whilst Michael was at sea. He appreciated this and was always very proud of her.

So Carla, although things I speak of today are general, it is you & your sons who really hold the greatest store of remembrances. Some good, others not-so-good, some ordinary , some extra-ordinary. They will reflect with far greater clarity, the life of your family. An enduring family, a well-lived, well-loved and well-led family. It’s a wonderful legacy to give to our children, Carla.

And to those of our dear children who are here today, try to remember that people you love don’t just die & get forgotten. They live on in your hearts and help you in the way you live your lives.

Love does that , it has no measure – it goes on forever & ever. But today’s occasion begs some other facts, so let me begin.

Michael was born at Taree on the 10th March, 1933, the third son of Lindsay & Dorothy Hudson. Our father was District Forester, who went on to become the NSW Commissioner for Forests, a position he held for 18 years. He was a gentle, modest man, with wisdom & charm, greatly respected in the NSW Public Service. I saw much of my father in Michael.

Our mother was a Prince Alfred trained nurse at the newly built Canberra Hospital, and it was here, in 1927 that she met her future husband as he studied forestry.

Their eldest son was David who became a Medical doctor, a pilot in 22 squadron RAAF & ultimately a Surgeon-Colonel in the US Forces.

The next brother, Ian, went to Duntroon Military College, serving in Japan & Korea, reaching the rank of Major.

Michael, destined for service life it seemed, entered Flinders Naval College in 1947, becoming a full Admiral in March 1991.

I became a nurse, as I think it was expected that I would look after my brothers in time of battle. We were, I suppose, an unusual family in that we had the three services represented, and a doctor & nurse thrown in for good measure. But we saw nothing unusual about that.

Our parents moved back to Sydney when Michael was about 2, so most of his childhood was in Mosman, Sydney.

It was a wonderful carefree childhood for us all, made more exciting, I’m afraid, by the War – what with Midget submarines, search-lights, air-raid shelters, malted milk tablets & things like that.

We spent most of our time swimming, sailing & fishing around the rocks of Middle Harbour. Michael’s favourite fishing spot was the island at Balmoral where he was able to record the movements at the Naval Base, identify ships & their flags, master his rope knots & learn morse code. He became so proficient at this, that in later years, it was said, he read incoming messages more quickly than his Chief Yeoman, whose job it was to interpret them.

We lived above Chinaman’s beach, in our grandparents old home, and we had a seemingly endless supply of visiting friends & relatives.

Our mother provided all with her seemingly endless supply of roast dinners & chocolate cake.

Michael’s sailing days were spectacular, in that he seemed to spend more time in the water than on it. As I was forehand hand, trusted with the jib leads (sorry – sheets!), I speak with authority. I should also remind you that sharks in Middle Harbour were a menace in those days.

Those sunshine days came to an end when Michael went to Flinders when he was 13. I clearly recall the mixed feelings I had of pride and deep sadness as we saw him off at Central Station. At 9, I felt something so special had ended & would never be the same again. It’s much as I feel now.

But Michael’s real navy career had begun & it was what he’d always wanted.

I was told a charming tale about Michael. On the first night in college quarters, the cadet captain ordered the boys to “BUNK DOWN, BE QUIET & GO TO SLEEP!” After a silence, a small voice was heard to whisper, out of tune as Michael was tone deaf,.. “KISS ME GOODNIGHT, SARGEANT MAJOR….”

So Michael made an initial impression, both good & not-so-good. But he thrived at college, holidays came & went, and these were treasured times. They were shaping years, and he grew into a tall, handsome, independent & capable young man. His friends were delightful too, and many would stay with us for their holidays.

When Michael graduated he was awarded the Kings Medal & I seem to remember many trophy cups for Rugby, cricket, swimming, athletics and some mystery sport called Australian Rules.

The Commodore, Commodore Buchanan – I think, said to my parents on that day: “Your son is his own man, and a good one. He’ll do well.”

The next step for Michael was to England & study at the Royal Naval College, Greenwich. This grand & gracious institution must have been a wonderful place to be, but, according to legend, it didn’t prevent Michael from falling asleep in Literary Classics class.

“HUDSON, HUDSON” roared the Tutor, “Who was Uncle Vanya & when did Chekov write about him?” Michael’s answer was simple, straight & honest, as it always was….. “I don’t know Sir, I was asleep when he came in.” Of Michael’s naval career, you have heard, but I would like to say in passing that his career was a source of great pride to all of his family. When Michael retired he started the next phase of his life with his characteristic enthusiasm & vigour.

After a time at Pittwater he became a successful farmer at Adelong for 10 years or so. It was a great sight seeing Michael astride his quad-bike, trusty dog on the back, bush hat on head, rounding up his Angus herd for marking. He planted hundreds of trees, delighting in his new role as a countryman. He & Carla also kept their home at Kirribilli, so he could keep the fleet close at hand.

They travelled thousands of kilometres throughout the Australian Outback, sometimes just themselves – sometimes with dear friends. He made meticulous plans for these. Always the navigator, his maps were clear, his compass & radios in good nick and his wrist-watch on stand-by to check the sun.

Some years ago, they sold Adelong & bought in Kangaroo Valley. His 70th birthday at their home there has become a benchmark for us. Only a naval commander & his wife could have successfully commanded so many friends & family to sally forth & gather in such a tucked away spot. But they did, and it was an unforgettable occasion, Mike loved it, every minute of it, and I’m so glad we can look back on that happy day.

These last six months have been very difficult, and Mike & Carla faced them together, in their usual way. Sadly nothing, not even Michael, could halt the progress of his disease, not the harm it did to him.

Last Sunday morning, early, with enormous courage and dignity, Michael crossed the bar with his family beside him.

Steady as she goes Mike. Thank you