Christmas on the SS Sapho 1 - 1966
by Published on 24th December 2020 08:02 PM
I’m sure there have been many worst Christmas’s at sea than my Christmas at sea in 1966, but this was my worst. Sailing between the Great Lakes and Greece, my ship, a former Empire boat, was the Liberian flagged SS Sapho 1. Crewed by some of the dregs of the world’s sea ports; Greeks, Spaniards, Colombians, Sudanese, Mexicans, a West Indian (Sullivan) and myself, (Brenda Silver, remember her? Silver Marine Agency Liverpool, Brenda, my agent told me the ship was new, crewed by American officers – no wonder we called her Shanghai Lily!) The voyage between Piraeus and the Great Lake ports and back to Greece, was one catastrophe after another, a fire in the engine room in mid-Atlantic, a Colombian, drunk on Ceuta cognac, going on the rampage with a revolver shooting at everything and everyone in sight, including me and the skipper. The Colombians and Mexicans were all sacked and deported for having firearms at sea. We ran out of fresh drinking water with the port hydrants freezing up. The lake water was undrinkable, We were the last ship to leave the Lakes before the locks to the St Laurence were shut for pre-winter maintenance. Anyway, the cook got stabbed to death in Buffalo NY. So we sailed from the Lakes without a cook. The captain’s wife took over cooking duties and believe me she could not cook. For Christmas lunch the Greek officers decided to have an outdoor BBQ type meal, they cut an old drum in half from top to bottom filled it with burning wood and rigged a spit for the lamb, or maybe it was goat, whatever. The spit was out on the deck, middle of the Atlantic in winter, the sea was rough and it was freezing cold. The meat congealed on the cold plate, the only other accompaniment with the meal was boiled macaroni, that too was cold. Captain Poly-Chronakis-Chronis invited the sailors up to the officer’s saloon for drinks and tab-nabs. The evening festivities was more like cold comfort farm. The Greeks hated the Spaniards, The Spaniards hated the Greeks and they all hated the black sailors. You could cut the atmosphere with a knife. At around 10pm I left the mess for the radio room to listen to the BBC World Service. Carols from Kings was on, they were singing Once in Royal David’s City. I’ve never felt so homesick in my life. When I returned to the dining room, all hell had broken loose. The skipper had the mess boy Ricardo by the throat up against the bulkhead with one hand trying to stop being stabbed with his other hand. Sullivan was slumped in the corner blubbing his eyes out, he had been called the N-word and so it kicked off - the Greeks fighting the Spaniards, the skipper’s wife screaming her head off, spilt beer and beer cans sloshing around the deck. Complete mayhem, everyone shouting and bawling. Ricardo was my friend and I managed to calm him down and get the blade off him. The skipper had apparently insulted him. However, as is often the case with Latins, the bedlam died down as quickly as it flared up and we managed to reach Scaramanga shipyard in one piece where I paid off. I thought the Sapho 1 was to be scrapped there but I think she was sold onto another company. Anyway, I hope everyone will have a wonderful Christmas and a much better 2021.
