"That's me in the picture," points 85-year-old Joseph Teuma. It's his simple explanation for returning to Malta from Australia to track down three statues, displayed in an advert. He is also willing to pay €5,000 just to see them again.

But his enthusiasm - and generosity - is not merely because he modelled, as a 12-year-old, for the statue of the boy; nor that his 14-year-old sister was the girl.

It is because they were the creation of his father - also Joseph Teuma, a wood carver, who passed away in 1974, leaving works in churches in Malta and Australia.

"Sit still Joe!" His father's admonishing orders still ring in Mr Teuma's ears. "My father spent hundreds of hours on these statues and I had to pose for him...

"I'm sorry dad, but I'm going to fall asleep," the 12-year-old boy would say. Eventually his mother laid down the rules - 10 minutes of posing and five minutes of rest - and his "short-tempered" father obeyed.

"It was hard to keep still for long; it wasn't too comfortable," Mr Teuma said.

And it is these vivid childhood memories that have brought him back. Mr Teuma claims he packed up and left Australia for good after 71 years away from Malta simply to retrace the life-size, plaster statues - but not to buy them as "they are far too big".

He is ready to pay money just to set eyes on them again. By the looks of things, however, he may be holding on to his €5,000.

Mr Teuma's mission has not been accomplished and, disheartened, he wants to return to Australia, despite the fact that he has sold all his belongings.

The three statues, created by his father in 1936, were donated to the School of Art in Old Bakery Street, Valletta, for the students to copy, according to Mr Teuma.

But a trip to see himself immortalised in plaster at the prime of his life yielded no such thing.

He claims he was told by a caretaker that they were sold to a private dealer, so he placed an advert in a newspaper only to be called and informed that the statues had in fact been moved to another location in Valletta.

Not about to throw in the towel, he tracked the statues' new address, but they were not there either.

"I called the guy back and questioned him. He then admitted that in moving the statues around, they had disappeared!"

Mr Teuma raised his hopes when an unnamed woman informed him that she knew where they were and would tell him if he passed on the money.

Naive enough to believe she was genuine, but not enough to avoid any safeguards, Mr Teuma told her to accompany him to the police station and pass on the information there. Once it was verified, he would have gladly handed over the cash.

But the woman was adamant about "no police" involvement. "Had she really known where the statues ended up, she would have accepted," he said.

Mr Teuma has been on a wild goose chase, and as soon as he sorts out the belongings he brought over in the five containers, he plans to ship them back and buy a seat on a plane.

"All my friends are in Australia and it's too hot here," he said, with a hint of sadness, but determined nonetheless.

"I would have wanted to join the School of Art here, even though I would never have been as good as my father."

Mr Teuma did try his hand at wood carving, but only until the war broke out. Last in Malta in 1948, he claims the statues were still at the school when, as an engineer machinist, he ended up on the island for eight weeks.

"Since I haven't found them, I only hope that they are being taken care of and in a place where others can enjoy them. I spent many hours keeping still and getting told off by my dad," Mr Teuma said to justify the amount he is willing to pay to see the statues again.

"Nobody would pass on the information for a few dollars!

The money is available if any- one knows anything... They are the last connection to my dad."

Anyone with any information about the 1936 statues of the boy by Joseph Teuma may contact him on 9951 5470.