The Sea King drops in to collect a diver from a demonstration. HMAS Gascoyne alongside in the background.

She sits, serene, on her headland, her harbour view perfection in agent's terms. Her era almost that of ocean liner architecture, a curve here an angle there, hinted at, never fully expressed. She shares a jubilee with her sovereign Elizabeth, of happy memory, an early visitor.

Red stripes among the gold, a place of nurture, of healing, of nursing. By her wharves helium, oxygen, rare gases for the divers on ordinary days, today a giant tank and noughts and crosses and funny faces for the children. Bubbles bursting on the surface like champagne for celebration. Here and there are safe examples of the things they pursue, torpedoes, mines, things that once went bang and made the bravery of the clearance divers legendary. HMAS Gascoyne alongside en fete like her sister, flag bedecked, on show for those people, 10,500 of them, who come to see the pride of Systems Command, HMAS Penguin, celebrate her 60th birthday.

Penguin's future has not always been as secure as this day; closure the word, haunting this part of Bradley's Head Road, is averted, a new lease of life granted.

Compliments from the Minister, beautifully prepared, beautifully maintained, the beginning of the celebration beat to quarters and sunset, appreciative noises from the audience unused to superb Navy ritual. The band and guard excellent at close quarters and floodlit, all else is dark.

Saturday morn. Do I really have to keep my sword vertical for that long? Yes.

A medieval ritual "Halt, who goes there?" Penguin exercises her right to enter Mosman "with bands playing, flags flying and swords drawn" - the Deputy Mayor and Sheriff pause to inspect her written credentials. All in order? Yes. "Tell them they may pass" - the Mayor, ermine and red velvet.

The new Chief of Navy takes the salute. Eyes left. His sword remains in its scabbard. To the village green, an arcane space in a modern city, colours boxed for another day. "March off the guard and band" - "Aye aye sir".

A celebration, a community cook up. Mosman feeds the masses. Everyone eats well, heavy, light, red or white, all sup on the pride of the community.

Pride is everywhere today, on the faces of the Naval Cadets, the band, the drum corps - all Cadets, together only three days and drumming like veterans, the CO, the Bishop, the Mayor and his Corporation.

The hit of the day? The police horses, calm under the onslaught of adulation.

Tonight the dinner, the Parliamentary Secretary, the Chief of Navy, retired COs, Admirals and lots of special guests, old and young who've never dined with the Navy before, the stuff of legends.

"Sixty years of history is a special milestone," says Fran Bailey, Parliamentary Secretary to the Minister for Defence, "and especially when that history is shared with local communities".

"It was a great honour to be part of such a significant naval event," she says.

Sunday morning the bells of St Clements, oranges and lemons, the 60 chimes for every year of Penguin. Bishop Tom Frame on those who go down to the sea and frightened Galileans, the colour party, a grey overcast morning. Anxious glances at the sky, muted whispers of "wet weather routine".

10.30am: The sun bursts through - where on earth did the Vietnam Vets' bus come from? No idea, it arrived yesterday.

The Seahawk, Sea King and Squirrel are bathed in magnificent light and preparing for the day's operations. They will fly low and slow, dropping divers, fast-roping.

A queue is forming at the gangway - smiles all round, will it be a success? It certainly will. Pies, coffees, corn on the cob; divers, fast-roping, the wardroom mess set for a formal dinner.

Devonshire teas, the Juniors' scran corner, the police pursuit vehicle, virtual Navy on massed PCs, Cadets' divisions and presentations, the Federation Guard drill teams - "Aussie, Aussie, Aussie, oy, oy, oy," an amazing performance.

The day draws to its close. My day of don't forgets - don't forget Gascoyne, the divers, food. To the airport through streams of happy people, all wave. I'm in the Naval Police paddy wagon - my first time. As Sunset is piped I am airborne for home. In my mind dusk falls, HMAS Penguin slows, quiets, a jewel in the Navy's crown.

By Hugh McKenzie
Photo by ABPH Yuri Ramsey