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Thread: My first ship

  1. #1
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    Smile My first ship

    After completing my training at the Vindi I wast home very long before I got a telegram to go to the pool,once there I was told to join the ship that was in dry dock at Hawthorn Leslies on the Tyne,Imet the 2nd steward and was shown to my 2berth cabin ,I met my cabin mate George Arrowsmith who was also a cabin boy.My meal on board was a curry ,I had never eaten curry before and thought it was lovely.We were in dry dock for about another 10days,then went out on trials with the riggers aboard .We were to sail to Sapele in EastAfrica ,one of the crew said to me it was known as the white man s grave thanks mate for the bad news .On route we were to experience a hurricane in the bay of Biscay, being lightship she really did rock and roll ,the prop seemed to spend more time out of the water than in it.Their was discovered two Glaswegian first trippers who were dirty buggers that never got washed ,or did their do Yong, some of the crew soon sorted them out,they stripped them and washed them with soap flakes mind you they had,had plenty of warnings,they certainly learnt their lesson ,cleanliness was not a problem after that.We bunkered at Dakar and I found out what heat was really about .The first job every morning was to scrub some alleyways on my hands and knees what a start to each day before breakfast.There was a couple of engine room crew who took pleasure in making area outside the entrance really oily ,they denied it but were not nice to new boys and said they had it tougher,nice men. On the way to Sapele a Scots AB fell from I think a samspson post or other ,the poor guy died and was buried in Sapele ,The passage up the creeks through the jungle was to a young sailor unbelievable with the natives coming to the banks and calling a flash for a dash ,they would show their boobs hoping someone on board would throw a tin or a bottle,these things must have been valuable to them .In those days loading raw timber was a slow job Attached to each log were o series of metal loops for the derricks to lift them aboard the loops on the logs were then prised out and thrown into the river,each time this happened lots of young kids would dive in and retrieve them as if they were made of gold.We had a lousy xmas and New year there.iwe then went to Lagos and Accra to cocoa beans ,iseem to remember loading offshore at Accra,boats coming through surf with sacks of beans I think more ended up in the sea than came aboard,those Africans did bloody hard ,I bet for peanuts .For some reason we next sailed to Takoradi then home,the crew had not been very nice to us youngs during the trip for various reasons I think they were or thought we needed toughening up ,When the ship was on its way back to London we all the crew were informed that they would not be asked back ,there really was some nasty sods among them,to cap it all we had to swing on the of hook offshore the Thames for a few days .Not the best start to my time at sea but it could get better. I loved the rest of it ,just got unlucky,

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    Default Re: My first ship

    Hi Dave , nice story, and I can recall as yesterday my first trip, also young lad of sixteen, never seen anywhere before, but boy , did we grow up quick. It was a big lesson that has stood us all in good stead. We also had to learn to look after yourselves, there was always someone who thought he could give you a tough time, and you had to be prepared to put a stop to it. A life I still miss, but can relive via this wonderful site, kt

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    Default Re: My first ship

    Hi Dave.
    I was lucky, when I left the Vindi in 49 I joined the Hain's boat Trevose in Cardiff dry dock as deck boy, good ship good crew so much so that I did four trips on her, two years, left her as SoS.
    Cheers Des


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    Default Re: My first ship

    After My first trip, I was lucky and got 2 days off whilst the ship went from Purfleet on the Thames round to Cardiff to load coal for B.A. Although the trip was to all good ports, Belfast, Cuba, Japan. Australia. Was around the world at 16, the amount of bullying and such that went on more so from the so called officers of the ship was not to my mind the best in the world. On knocking on the front door my old man answered and the first thing he said was, well have you had enough. If he had kept his mouth shut I would probably have wanted to give it away there and then, however his attitude made me want to prove him wrong, as had no intention of going on his guiding hand and the career he never had the chance to accomplish. So I said no its great, and thus had the benefit of another 49 years at sea. However must say with maturity came a lot more knowledge, I would never treat youngsters at sea the way some of us were and one had to be in a position to be able to do so. And as said on getting my 2nd. mates cert. never took any crap again be it from shipowner or whoever. Cappy talks about a skipper old man Roberts, I was 2nd mate with him and gave him his life story as well and he never bothered me, in fact used to stick glasses of whiskey in my hand on coming off the middle watch. I agree with the post where you had to stand on your own two feet at an early age. It would be the making of some of the youngsters of today. They leave school I think at about 18 here, and some go on to University, they should go to sea and would learn more at the University of life to ready themselves with the knowledge for what if anything lies in wait for them. JS
    Last edited by j.sabourn; 19th October 2016 at 03:10 AM.

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    Default Re: My first ship

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    MY FIRST VOYAGE TO SEA AS A DECK BOY. 1952..


    Here is a story of my first trip to sea as a green Deck Boy, bullied by a bunch of bastards, almost driven to suicide by them and then I turned................
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    ............................... MY FIRST VOYAGE TO SEA AS A DECK BOY. 1952..
    I had spent twelve weeks on the Training ship, VINDiCATRIX, in Sharpness, Gloucestershire. I signed on at the Pool in Canning Place in Liverpool and after six weeks of waiting I got the a ship, the Commodore Grant, ex Fort Grant. She was owned by a London Greek company, North East Freighters NEF of Montreal.
    I joined the ship in Brocklebank Dock in Liverpool on 18 July 1952 where she had just finished discharging grain.
    I signed on as Deck Boy on £10 a month for a voyage to India via Antwerp where we were to load bagged fertilizer for Madras.
    I climbed the gangway with my gear and went amidships to find the Mate. The deck was littered with hatch boards, beams, wires and the Dockers wearing flat caps and long greasy overcoats puffing on Woodbines.
    I found the Mate’s cabin on the port side and knocked on the door and walked in. There was the Mate, fastening his wife’s bra, “What the hell do you want”? he shouted as he tried to stand in front of his wife who was looking embarrassed.
    “I am your new Deck Boy” I said, “Well Eff off down aft, I’m busy”.
    So I Effed off down aft and found the mess room on the poop.
    The deck crowd was in there, six ABs and three Ordinary Seamen with the Bosun. The most miserable bunch of bullying bastards I have ever had the misfortune to sail with. For fifty years I have searched every Bar and Whorehouse around the world looking for them to repay them for the misery and beatings that I experienced during that voyage but never saw one of them.
    The accommodation was not good. On the poop was two mess rooms, one for the Sailors and one for the Lascar Firemen and two bathrooms , one each side.
    Down below on the tween deck was three cabins for the Sailors and three for the Firemen. I was in a four berth cabin right next to the steam engine in the Steering Flat.
    My job as Peggy was to clean the Bosun and Chippy`s mess and cabin amidships and the Sailors Mess Room, bathroom, alleyways and cabins down aft. Also I had to carry all the Sailors food from the galley amidships down aft to the Mess Room. Sometimes in heavy weather when a green sea came over the after deck and I was washed into the scuppers losing the kits of food I would get battered off the Sailors and when I went back to the galley another thumping off the big fat ugly Cook from Cardiff.
    I also had pump up the water from the after peak to a tank on top of the mess room several times a day, The pump was a wooden handle on the bulkhead, I had to push it backwards and forwards for a long time to get the water up to the tank Then the Lascars would be using it for showers and running taps faster than I could pump it up and then the Sailors would batter me again because there was no water left. After all that I would have to work on Deck in the afternoons chipping and painting or greasing wires.
    On Monday, 21 July we battened down the hatches and dropped the derricks, shifted all the dunnage off the decks and made ready for sea at noon.
    We sailed light ship for Antwerp where we were to load 10,000 tons of bagged fertilizer for Madras and we were there for ten days loading.
    I found Antwerp a fascinating place, my first foreign port with all the colourful lights and bars around Schipper Straat, or Skipper Street as it is better known.
    In one bar a big sexy barmaid, Philomena took a fancy to me and I was on free ale all the time I was there. Some of the Sailors went into Skipper Street and paid ten shillings for a leg over, Expensive just for a few minutes.
    When we had completed loading we battened down, dropped the derricks hosed down the decks and sailed at 2200 stowing ropes as we sailed down the River Scheldt.
    I was on nine pennies an hour for overtime.
    After a five day run at ten knots we passed Gibraltar and entered the Med and then an eight day run in beautiful weather to Port Said for the Suez Canal.
    As we were mooring to the buoys in Port Said, I happened to swear at one of the ABs, Clarence. He battered me up and down the after deck accentuating with each smash of a big iron fist that I should not call him a bastard. I took a hint as in a situation like that I was a quick learner.
    We loaded bunkers and fresh water, then loaded two Canal boats on deck. We hoisted up the Canal Searchlight over the bow and made it fast.
    George Roby, the famous Bum Boat man came on deck and spread his wares on the hatch. I bought a music box for mother off him.
    .
    Just after midnight we let go and joined the Southbound Convoy sailing through the Suez Canal.
    After an interesting passage we past Port Tewfik and dropped off the
    Two Canal Boats and the Searchlight into the water and sailed into the Red Sea.
    The heat in the Red Sea was terrific and the Sailors and Lascars were using more and more water for showers and I was spending more and more time pumping up water for them, As soon as I had finished pumping up the water the Lascars would run it off and the Sailors would scream abuse at me in between thumps shouting `Get pumping you lazy bastard`
    Five days later we were mooring up to the buoys in Aden to load bunkers again. We were soon surrounded by bum boats and a few cartons of ciggies were swopped for tea sets and music boxes.
    Eight hours later we let go and the sailed round Steamer Point and towards the Indian Ocean.
    We were in the South West Monsoon then with heavy seas sweeping over our decks. I lost a few meals trying to carry them from the galley amidships to the Mess room down aft. So I was hammered again by the deck crowd and the fat ugly Cook from Cardiff.
    I got my own back on the Cook, he had a trumpet that he played very badly every day, the noise was diabolical. One day he turned in during the afternoon and left his Trumpet in the Galley. He had left his Trumpet in the Galley so I poured a load of chip fat into it and turned it round a few times and then when the lard set later it seized up all the valves.
    When he went to play it that evening he was going demented, he was going to take a cleaver and kill the bastard who had done that.
    Fortunately he never found out and the ship was a little quieter after that.
    Eight days after leaving Aden astern we arrived in Colombo, Ceylon and moored up to buoys in the harbour to load bunkers.
    Astern of us on the same buoy was the Cape Wrath, another old tramp that looked in a worse condition than we did.
    The Sailors on the Cape Wrath shouted across to us that they had no cigarettes but had some cans of beer to do a swop with us.
    Our Sailors got a wooden box made a lashing on it and put a few cartons of ciggies in and told me to swim over to the Cape Wrath.
    The distance from our gangway to their gangway was a few hundred yards, I told them I couldn’t swim that far.
    After being thumped a few times I decided that I was a fantastic swimmer and was over the side in no time at all.
    It was a long hard swim across to the other ship dragging the wooden box, the water was quite choppy with the movement of ships and tugs in the harbour. The Sailors were jeering and cheering all the way.
    When I got on board the Cape Wrath the Sailors were gasping for a ciggie, they had run out a week before. I had a beer with them, they told me they had been out for eighteen months and didn’t know when they were going to get home.
    After hearing our Sailors screaming abuse across the water I put 18 cans of beer into the box and went back down the gangway and into the water again. It was a long hard swim to get back to the Commodore Grant. I was totally worn out when I got back on board.
    I never got any beer, the Sailors drank the lot without offering me any. I must have been mad to have done it. When the Galley Boy dumped the garbage over the wall a big shark zoomed in along side to eat it.
    We let go later that evening, sailed around Dondra Head and headed north into the Bay of Bengal. Two days later we tied up alongside the wharf in Madras, we were to be there for around ten days to discharge the bags of fertilizer.
    Madras was hot stinking, sweaty and noisy. What a contrast to being at sea with the cool refreshing breeze and only the sound of the sea.
    As soon as we were alongside the deck was swarming with hundreds of Indians shouting, screaming and stripping the hatches of tarps and throwing hatch boards and beams on deck and the clatter of the steam winches as they started discharging.
    The deck was soon filthy with the spilt fertilizer and red betel juice spit all over. The Indians had no toilets and would just squat in the scuppers and crap filling the ship with their stink and millions of flies.
    We had to keep the ports and doors locked or they would have stolen everything and made a stinking mess on the bathroom deck.
    Every day the beggars would come down to the ship begging for food scraps, the saddest ones were the little kids who were like skeletons
    pleading with squeaky voices, `No Mamma , No Poppa, dash me baksheesh.` I would give them any gash left over by the Sailors if they left any.
    Dhobi Walla’s would come down and ask if they could do our dhobi.
    The Sailors decided to hire one and made me in charge of him, I had to watch him all the time to make sure he didn’t steal anything.
    He eventually did, stealing all the Sailors dungarees, shirts and our towels. We had to provide our towels in those days.
    This resulted in me being beaten up again by all the Sailors.
    On the first Saturday in Madras I heard there was a dance at the Anglo Indian Club in town. By the time I had scrubbed out both mess rooms and pumped up the water tank, showered and changed all hands were ashore and I went ashore on my own.
    I didn’t know where this club was so I got a Rickshaw to take me. The rickshaw boy towed me around the City for a couple of hours and ended up at the gangway again saying he didn’t know where the club was. He was demanding 15 rupees, I only had a sub of 25 rupees and so I told him to get stuffed and gave him five and went to climb the gangway. He started to scream and grabbed my shirt and in an instant I was surrounded by a big crowd of screaming Indians.
    I got a bit scared then so I gave him another ten and ran up the gangway. I thought what a lousy night out, first night ashore for over one month and it cost more than five days wages just to have a ride in a rickshaw.
    On Sunday afternoon the galley boy, a lad called Keating from Wallasey, and I went to the beach a few hundred yards from the docks. It was a beautiful beach, completely deserted and stretch for miles with clean white sand and lined with palm trees, we spent a couple of happy hours swimming in the surf.
    The following Saturday night there was another dance at the Anglo-Indian Club so this time I walked into the city and found it, no more rickshaws.
    In the Club I saw an attractive young lady, I danced with her, she was the same age as I was and she told me her name was Elizabeth.
    After the dance she took me over to the table where her mother was sitting and introduced me to her. Her mother, Mrs Thompson, was an Anglo-Indian and before she was widowed was married to a Liverpool man and they had lived there for many years before returning to Madras, where Mr Thompson had died. As I lived near to Liverpool they were quite interested and we got on quite well with each other.
    At the end of a pleasant evening, dancing and talking, they invited me to dinner their home on Sunday evening.
    They lived 30 minutes ride on a train south of Madras, so I finished work early and arrived at their house around 7pm.
    They had a beautiful home built in Colonial style and surrounded by lush tropical gardens.
    We had a fantastic dinner, waited on by Servants, it like something out of a movie for a young lad out of Bolton on his first trip.
    Elizabeth introduced me to her brother, George, who was around 20 years old, he had been born in Liverpool and was easy to get along with.
    All to soon the pleasant evening ended and I had to get the train back to Madras. Elizabeth and I wrote to each other for a while then it faded away and I never went back to Madras.
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    .................................. ********************************************
    .
    .
    42 years later, in June 1994, my elder brother Jim and I went to London to see the Liberty ship, JEREMIAH O`BRIEN that had sailed from San Francisco to London for the 50th Anniversary of D. Day. We had both sailed on Sam boats and so it brought us a few memories.
    We stayed at the Merchant Navy Hotel in Lancaster Gate.
    In the evening we went into the hotel bar which was empty except for one very attractive young barmaid. We got chatting to her and found that she was a Student from Liverpool who worked in the Hotel in her spare time.
    I could see that she was part Indian and mentioned this to her. An incredible story unfolded. She told me her father was an Anglo-Indian who had lived in Madras for many years before returning to Liverpool where he got married.
    I had a strange feeling, and said, “Is your name Thompson?”
    She gasped in amazement. I told her that I knew a family by the name of Thompson who lived outside Madras and there was a pretty young girl called Elizabeth, way back in 1952.
    I described the house and location and her brother George.
    The barmaid confirmed that was right, George was indeed her father and incredibly Elizabeth still lived in the house, she had never married. I wondered if she was still waiting for me.
    The barmaid had been to the house many times on holiday to stay with her aunt Elizabeth.
    My brother, Jim, could not believe it, an incredible story, of all the Gin Joints in all the world we had to choose this one.
    We went into the bar on the next two nights but she was not there, another barmaid had taken over. It was amazing to have found her that night.
    .
    ...............................******************* **********************************
    .
    Meanwhile back in 1952 in Madras, we completed discharging, battened down the hatches and dropped the derricks, hosed down the decks to clear the filth away.
    Then a little Indian fellow turned up, he was a tattooist, and said he would tattoo all hands if we would stow him away and take him to Vizagapatam a couple of hundred miles up the coast. After he had tattooed us all we stowed him down the dunnage hatch with a load of burlap bags to sleep on. I had to feed him now and again.
    Two days later we docked in Vizagapatam where he disappeared into the jungle of a million shanties.
    Vizagapatam was just a stinking port, the town just consisted of filthy hovels and shanties and what seemed to be millions of Indians screaming “Baksheesh, Baksheesh.”
    I only walked ashore once and that was enough. No one went ashore there.
    We were her for seven days to load Manganese ore for Birkenhead, great we were homeward bound.
    We completed loading and battened down again ready for sailing, dropped and secured the derricks and then hosed down the to get rid of the ore dust then let go and sailed south down the Bay of Bengal.
    Four days later we moored to the buoys again in Colombo Harbour for bunkers. I bought 12 pounds of Broken Orange Peko Tea for mother back home. Tea was still rationed in those days.
    Eight hours later we let go and sailed into the Indian Ocean bound for Aden eight days away.
    On the voyage across the Sailors were getting a bit bored so for entertainment they would beat me up on Number five hatch every evening, they all thought it was funny, I was only a skinny kid and had no chance against the big Abs.
    Some nights I was so fed up with it all I would climb over the rails lean out, count up to ten and when I got to ten I would let go and end it all.
    It looked very tempting, looking into the dark water which was lit up with swirling patterns of phosphorous. In the end I would climb back inboard. Those bastards were driving me to suicide, but I put a stop to it when we were berthing in Aden.
    As we were approaching the buoys in Aden one morning a big fat AB called Mush, started to knock me about the after deck.
    By this time I had had enough, I had nothing to lose now and so went berserk. I smashed him several times in the face with my fists, bursting his nose and lips. I got him by the rails and heaved him over, I don’t know where I got the strength from.
    He was clinging to the bottom rail on the outboard side hanging over the propeller, screaming for help while I was stamping on his fingers to make him let go, then I got the chain stopper and started to lash him with it, I just wanted to kill the bastard.
    The Second Mate and one of the other Abs dragged me away from the trails and pulled Mush back inboard. He had to go below to his bunk to recover. He was a quiet man for the rest of the voyage after that and all the Sailors treated me with a bit of respect. I should have done that earlier in the voyage, I felt ten feet tall.
    Any whinging off the Sailors after that I would just snarl at them. Some of them even helped me to pump up the water and occasionally washed the dishes in the mess after the evening meal.
    I was never beaten again in all my years of seafaring.
    After leaving Aden we steamed up the Red Sea to arrive in Suez Bay and then anchored to await our turn in the next convoy.
    The sight there is something we will never see again, the bay was full of dozens of British ships, Union Castle, P&O, Orient, Blue Star, Blue Funnel, Federal, Clan, Shaw Savills, Port line, troop ships and so on.
    Later in the morning it was our turn and we heaved up the anchor and followed the convoy into the Canal. A couple of hours later we anchored in the Great Bitter Lake and the convoy anchored again while the South bound convoy slowly steamed past. We were there for a few hours and so we had time to leap over the wall to swim in the warm turquoise waters of the lake. It was very refreshing as the heat was terrific. Once the South bound convoy was clear we heaved away and sailed on towards Port Said.
    Next morning as we steamed between the lines of ships at Port Said, we lowered the two Canal boats into the water and dropped off the searchlight, the Agents boat came out with mail and papers.
    We sailed past the statue of Ferdinand de Lesseps and out of the breakwater dropping off the Canal Pilot and into the Mediterranean.
    We didn’t load any fresh water there so water was rationed. The Mate had a padlock on the pump and water was only allowed to be pumped for one hour in the morning and one in the evening, that suited me fine, save quite a bit of work.
    The voyage to Birkenhead took 14 days along the Mediterranean and up the Atlantic coast. We picked up the Pilot at Point Lynus off Anglesey and on a cold grey Friday morning at the end of October and docked at the East Float in Birkenhead docks.
    What a contrast Merseyside was with its forty shades of grey compared with the bright colours of the tropics, still it was good to be back.
    The following day Saturday the Liverpool fellows and I went home for the weekend except the two Southampton Abs, when I got back on Monday morning the two of them had used every plate and piece of cutlery in the mess, they had not washed their own dishes, saving it all for me when I came back. Mush started to shout abuse again for not staying on board to look after them but when I threatened to throw him over the wall again he shut up.
    We stayed in Birkenhead for ten days discharging the Manganese ore then we were to take her to Glasgow dry dock. I thought the breakers would have been more suitable.
    On a cold wet windy day we sailed light ship, We cleared the Mersey Bar dropped the Pilot off and headed north into a screaming northerly gale which turned into a hurricane force 12. The ship being light was bouncing and rolling her guts out, after two days and nights we were off the North Wales coast making no headway. Eventually the gale eased and we crept up the coast to Glasgow four days out from Birkenhead. We entered the dry dock at 6 am and were paid of by 11am.
    I paid off with £8 and a train ticket home, not bad for four months hard labour. I packed my bags and went down the gangway for the last time and into the taxi for Glasgow Station, I looked at the Commodore Grant for the last time as we moved away, lying in the dry dock, rusty and battered looking, I never saw her again, thank God.

    .
    Hope you enjoyed it.
    Cheers
    Brian.

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    Default Re: My first ship

    ref jws statement on captain roberts ...he frightened me in the shipping office while signing on the cragmoor for my ist foriegn going ship ....shouting at an AB saying you your a drunk and a trouble maker i remember you ....there is no way on this vessel ...now fu..off in a bawling voice ...my knees were knocking .......all others wre looking as if what have we let ourselves in for here....in port adelaide iwas sent with two galvanised buckets up to i think it was the alkalhi bar with a load of forieghn coins to get beer before it closed ...no subs had been given as we just arrived ....as i got back to the bottom of the gangway ....aloud voice shouted what the fu..is in them buckets ......beer i said ...who sent you for that he shouted through his trumpet ...i dont know said i where upon he shouted we have been out for 7 months and you dont know who sent you ...i stayed dumb somebody shouted you old bastard .....roberts was bawling who was that who was that ......he then shouted at me throw that in the water now ....i made the mistake of throwing the two buckets as well as the beer.........fuc. me fuc. me he was bawling are you a fuc..g idiot ...youll pay for them buckets.......but he never did charge me for them ....i must say after that on captains inspections....wherever he was iwas the farthest possible way on that ship from him .........but then as JWS said who knows what he had endured during the war years ....wouldnt have changed it for the world .....the making on that 9 month trip of a boy into a man.....who took **** off no one ever again........cappy........PS later i kept pigeons in a old potato locker on the boat deck and he knew but never said a word .......sadly after a fortnight i let them out they flew round the ship in the aussie bight dissapeared and never came back ....happy days cappy from shields

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    Default Re: My first ship

    Not so much my first voyage but going to the Pool on London to join up. The guy on the gate said over there son and hope you like the man, he may like you.

    In I go wet behind the ears and there he was, the make up showed so much I wondered just who or what he was. He spoke for a while about life at sea with me more confused as to his gender. Thankfully I had a cousin of my mother who had been a Bosun, ended his days on the Woolwich ferry, who had told me about such 'men'.
    I got out in one piece with a handful of papers to fill out. On the way out the gate man asked how I got on?
    Fine I told him, but he sure is an odd one. He just grinned and said 'good luck'.
    Happy daze John in Oz.

    Life is too short to blend in.

    John Strange R737787
    World Traveller

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    Default Re: My first ship

    My first ship was not deep sea, signed on as cabin boy, but actually worked in the pantry, on the "King George V", (MacBraynes), out of Oban,
    carrying mail and passengers to the western isles, off the Scottish coast. The season lasted 6 months and I consider this my training ship.
    I was sixteen. My father came on board with me the first day and it turned out he knew the chief pantryman, Bobby, they had sailed together
    on the "Captain Cook", along with some of the asst. stwds., he was working this year on the coast as had just got married. He wore the whitest
    white shirt I have ever seen, even at the end of the day was still spotless, this was typical of him, my dad said. He taught me the importance
    of cleanliness, ("next to Godliness", he would say), speed, how to organize, work well with others and keep ahead. He gave me 2 pairs of cooks
    "checks" which I wore instead of denims. 3 months later I could run the pantry, filling in for Bobby if required and had the respect of the other
    boy ratings, there was four of us, incl. the galley boy, our cabin was the "glory Hole", I could sense I was in charge. Bobby said if I came back
    next trip he would recommend me for chief pantrymans job but I wanted to go deep sea and felt prepared, so after paying my dues as pantry boy
    and galley boy on the cargo ships, I reached the dizzy heights of asst. stwd., which was my only ambition.

    - - - Updated - - -

    My first ship was not deep sea, signed on as cabin boy, but actually worked in the pantry, on the "King George V", (MacBraynes), out of Oban,
    carrying mail and passengers to the western isles, off the Scottish coast. The season lasted 6 months and I consider this my training ship.
    I was sixteen. My father came on board with me the first day and it turned out he knew the chief pantryman, Bobby, they had sailed together
    on the "Captain Cook", along with some of the asst. stwds., he was working this year on the coast as had just got married. He wore the whitest
    white shirt I have ever seen, even at the end of the day was still spotless, this was typical of him, my dad said. He taught me the importance
    of cleanliness, ("next to Godliness", he would say), speed, how to organize, work well with others and keep ahead. He gave me 2 pairs of cooks
    "checks" which I wore instead of denims. 3 months later I could run the pantry, filling in for Bobby if required and had the respect of the other
    boy ratings, there was four of us, incl. the galley boy, our cabin was the "glory Hole", I could sense I was in charge. Bobby said if I came back
    next trip he would recommend me for chief pantrymans job but I wanted to go deep sea and felt prepared, so after paying my dues as pantry boy
    and galley boy on the cargo ships, I reached the dizzy heights of asst. stwd., which was my only ambition.

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    Default Re: My first ship

    Brian
    Unbelievable story,brilliantly told,you should have written a book.Would love the youngsters of today to be made to read your accounts of life at sea.Mine were not so bad,but still met several "animals" who were a disgrace to the human race,but survived,nonetheless.Good Luck

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    Default Re: My first ship

    Thanks for that Charles.

    I was going to answer the first post regarding "Flash for Dash" up the creeks in West Africa,
    I was up Sapele Creek in 1953 on the TARKWA , of Elder Dempsters. A canoe came along side and a Mamio`s voice shouting Flash for Dash,
    I had never seen it before, so all I could find in the mess room was a 7 pound tin of Greengage Jam.
    She shouts
    "Flash for dash, you dash me I flash you".
    So I dropped the Seven pound tin down into her canoe, it went straight through the bottom like a canon ball, and then it started to fill up with water and sank. She was screaming as she swam across the creek, "Ju-Ju Man , he go fix am good for you"
    A few days later we were in Port Harcourt, and whilst rigging the jumbo, I fell of the mast table and fell about 40 feet into the winch bed below.
    I was taken to hospital on the back of a flat bed lorry and stayed there for a few days until the ship was ready to sail, I had two broken legs and a broken right arm and well as the cuts and bruises.I Guess the Mamio got the Ju-Ju Man to `fix am good for me.`
    Cheers
    Brian
    Last edited by Captain Kong; 21st December 2017 at 07:07 PM.

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