The Bahamondes family depart Chile. Photos: Supplied.
On Saturday 16 August 1975, a special Chilean airliner landed at Sydney International Airport, and about 130 people from 35 Chilean families filed out, faces marked with apprehension, bewilderment, excitement and relief.
Plucked from the violent unrest of Chile’s coup d’état, among the youngest was 23-year-old Fernando Bahamondes, his 21-year-old wife Elba and their 10-month-old son.
“I remember there was an interpreter at the airport, and they told us those who’d brought money from Chile could open a bank account there and then. No computer — just a little notebook in pencil as your record. And it struck me — we trust these people and they trust us.”
It was a stark contrast to what they had left behind.
Fernando grew up in Nogales and his wife in La Calera — “like Unanderra to Berkeley,” he says. His father died unexpectedly at 37, leaving a widow and five children, Fernando just 11.
“Up until then I had a normal upbringing, but life was hard after that. I believe I became a man at 11.”
There was hardship, but also joy. Childhood in Chile was wholesome and active: marbles and soccer in the street, endless invented games.
“A bicycle wheel was enough to entertain yourself all day,” he says. “And everyone was on a soccer team, no matter how well you played.”
Everything changed when the military overthrew the government. Streets filled with soldiers and army trucks. Neighbours’ goodwill was replaced by fear and suspicion.
“You didn’t need to be political to have someone after you. If it was thought your friend belonged to a left-wing party, that was enough,” Fernando says.
“You started to distrust people you’d known all your life … That’s why that trust at Sydney Airport felt like a revelation.”
In a time before the internet, Fernando knew nothing about Australia. They spoke no English, but his arrival felt like “a big adventure”. Most passengers went to live at the Fairy Meadow Hostel and work at the Port Kembla Steelworks.
“I went to the coke works. It was hard, manual labour. I was a skinny fellow, shovelling spillage into an oven at high temperatures. The handle of the shovel was bigger than me,” Fernando laughs.
“None of us gave up. We were grateful to have a job, a place to stay, and money in our pockets. That was unbelievable for us.”
English classes were offered during the day, and whenever he had a scrap of energy left after a shift, Fernando would attend.
And while they had all arrived strangers, they didn’t remain so for long.
“That kind of experience creates a bond very easily,” Fernando says.
The group quickly incorporated into the just-formed Chilean Club, keeping culture alive through monthly dinners, soccer teams, Chilean Independence Day celebrations, and occasionally dancing La Cueca, a traditional folk dance.
Pride in heritage sat alongside pride in their new nation.
“We are all very happy to be in Australia. We have created a life and written a new story, and our descendants have a bright future to write their own,” Fernando says.
The Bahamondes family at their first home in Australia — the Fairy Meadow hostel. Photo: Supplied.
It’s a familiar story for many Chilean families who arrived in Illawarra at the time — albeit, each had a unique experience.
Albert Vasquez was two when he arrived. It took longer for him to develop pride for his birth country — but it came.
“My parents migrated to a place they didn’t know, a culture and language they didn’t understand, to give us education and opportunity. They changed the trajectory of both mine and my sister’s lives, giving us the opportunity for an education, which has put us in good standing to be successful at whatever life throws us,” he says.
“Our story is replicated over and over in our community and with that in mind we move to thank all the parents who sacrificed the lives they knew for the good of their children.”
The Vasquez family the day they left Chile.
Over the years, Chilean Club numbers have dwindled, but Fernando says it remains an anchor for members of the Illawarra’s Chilean community.
“Remember most of the people on that plane were much older than me. Of those 75 families who came over, many have passed away and others have relocated. We’re scattered,” he says.
“But for the elderly, many of whom still speak little English, it’s important to come together, eat, remember and laugh. Mine is just one story — there are many more to tell.”
This Saturday 16 August, Illawarra Chileans from that plane, as well as those who arrived after and even some who arrived shortly before, will do just that at Warilla Bowls Club.
The private party will mark 50 years — to the day — since their arrival.
