Vale

Born in Wales, Peter enlisted in the Royal Australian Navy on New Year’s Day 1974, joining from Rockingham, Western Australia, as a member of the 46th Intake (Marks) of Junior Recruits at HMAS Leeuwin.

He graduated from Leeuwin at the end of the year and was rated as a Seaman Marine Technician (Propulsion). Following his Marine Engineering Phase 1 training at HMAS Cerberus, he joined the Daring Class Destroyer HMAS Vampire, based in Sydney. During his time in Vampire, the ship was placed on standby in Darwin following the Indonesian invasion of East Timor and it also deployed to the Far East.

In 1977, Peter volunteered for submarines. He travelled to the United Kingdom in August of that year to undertake submarine training at HMS Dolphin in Gosport, Hampshire. Returning to Australia in late 1977, he completed his training aboard HMAS Ovens, where he was awarded his coveted “Dolphins.” At the time, Ovens had seven sailors named Jones, so the Coxswain “numbered them off”—Percy became “Jones Number Three.”

After completing his nine-year engagement, Peter left the Navy and travelled to England and Wales. Upon returning to Australia, he re-enlisted as a stoker, though he soon decided engineering was not for him. Following a short period on Otway, he sought and received a transfer to the Supply and Secretariat Branch, re-mustering as a cook. He completed his culinary training at HMAS Cerberus before returning to the Submarine Service and qualifying as a Cook—Submarines. He never forgot his stoker roots, often relieving the stoker on watch in the engine room so the man could slip aft for a brew, or lending a hand with putting on a snort as he passed through the space.

One of my fondest memories of Peter comes from Orion’s pre-patrol workup in 1994. We had been “bounced” by HMAS Darwin and tried to run but ended up sitting on a layer at 400 feet west of Rottnest, lying doggo. Over the next 36 hours, I—as the Marine Engineering Officer—watched the battery percentage drop with growing anxiety. We had shut down nearly everything: no ventilation, main motor field switches out, the boat darkened throughout. When the battery dipped below ten percent, Percy appeared in the control room at 0200 with a large batch of freshly baked scones, complete with jam and cream. He had woken up, flashed up the oven, and decided to give the middle watch a treat. It probably drained another two percent off the battery, but it was worth every ampere for the boost in morale.

Peter served on five of the six Oberon Class submarines in the RAN before eventually discharging in Western Australia. He continued to work as a chef, including on merchant ships, and later as a greaser offshore on the Northwest Shelf of WA.

Peter was one of those once-in-a-generation sailors you encounter in submarines. He had the ability to work hard when necessary while still making time to enjoy life. Whatever the situation, he seemed to make it his mission to lift morale. His partnership with the late Leading Cook JJ Gilchrist as the chefs on submarine patrols was legendary. The crews served by Peter and JJ never suffered from a lack of good food—nor from poorly cooked fare. I am certain Peter and JJ are now creating a ruckus in God’s galley.

My thanks to Tony Bernhagan, who joined both Leeuwin and submariners with Peter, for his assistance in preparing this obituary.

The SAA extends its heartfelt condolences to Peter’s extended family and friends.

May He Rest In Peace

Compiled by:

Tony Vine

SAA National Secretary

29 March 2026.