Travel times: London to Amsterdam

[Captain Kong]

The lady lives in Perth not far from John Sabourne, maybe he could meet up with her.
Brian

[Jim Brady]

Brian,Perth oz or scotland.

[Captain Kong]

Hi Jim
Perth, Western Australia, tho` "Perth "covers a large area there.
Cheers
Brian.

[j.sabourn]

#62... How did you find that out Brian. She wouldnt be one of your old flames from Whitley Bay would she. As you know there is large British community in Rockingham area, so is could by chance be she lives in this area. I do know at least 3 women from NE coast out here, may invite her to join the list if from that area. You must be the big bruvver to find out that info. Cheers John Sabourn PS If you can find out maybe we can go and visit her when you are out here in February. If she is reading this now she will either answer or move to the Northern Territory. Cheers JS

[Des Taff Jenkins]

HI Jim.
You just jogged my memory. We had two brothers on one ship I was on, we had only signed on a few days when the younger one wanted to get off as he missed his girlfriend; he put his hand between two books and asked his brother to hit it with a hammer, another mate knew he would pull his hand away at the last moment and was standing behind him with a pinch bar; as he whipped his hand away his mate hit him full force with the pinch bar broke his wrist. Don't know if it did him any good as he and his girl went to Gretna Green and got married.
Cheers Des

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[j.sabourn]

Was much easier I suppose in the old days if wanted off a ship, just to jump as many did in Oz and Kiwi. I never had the nerve but was tempted to many times. John Sabourn

[j.sabourn]

#61.. Jim think I have put this up before. When mate on the Pennyworth about 1964, were running from Liverpool up to Murmansk for a couple of runs. This ex seafarer, think he had been a fireman, brought his son down to join the ship as first trip deck boy and came and asked me to keep and eye on him. He was over the moon that his son was going to sea, and I rather think he was trying to relive his own life through his son. The boy was sick as a dog from day 1 to getting back to Liverpool and obviously didn't want to be there. His father came down to ship, and I told him about his sons seasickness, he insisted the boy carry on, which he did. The same thing happened again, I had to explain to the father that his son did not wish to be there and was suffering to just please his dad. I think if he had still insisted, it could and probably would have finished up with results which would have been irreversible, however the boy did pay off. I hope he found what he was looking for in his life, it certainly wasn't a life at sea. Regards John Sabourn

[Roger Dyer]

When this thread was in it's infancy I had hoped that mention of the 'little ships' might induce a response from those who had experienced life on the coasters and short-sea traders, ships that (like the mighty liners, tankers, tramps and 'reefers) also played an integral part in Britain's domestic and overseas trade. Certainly, on a coaster the daily life of seamen was far removed from that of their fellows who plied their trade in deeper water. Not for them the more structured existence to be found on larger, blue-water vessels where, usually, life was more ordered. Where meal-breaks and smokos came at regular times, where periods of leisure time were, generally, assured and where each member of the crew had an assigned duty from which he would rarely, if ever, be called upon to assist in tasks with which he was unfamiliar. In saying this I do not seek to disparage my brother seamen on the 'big' ships who had their own share of trials and tribulations to confront which, I too, had once known. Rather than that, I seek to enlighten those who may be unaware that a more structured existence was never really compatable with life on a coaster or 'rock dodger', as they were often dismissively referred to by the uninformed.

....................Contrary to what some may imagine, in coasters and short-sea traders I found myself amongst some of the finest seamen with whom it was my privilege to sail (both officers and men). Rarely, for them, the luxury of sitting on a hatch supping a cold beer as their ship made it's way through a gentle sea in glorious sunshine. More often they were subject to the imponderable vagaries of European weather which could often mean days when meals were restricted to a choice of cheese or tinned corn beef sandwiches. They were the days when the movement of the vessel made it impossible for the cook to keep anything on the stove, leaving him the option of staggering around like a drunk or returning to the questionable safety of his cabin. Days when it was pointless to try and sit at a heaving messroom table, clinging to a plate or cup the contents of which, you knew, were destined to end up on the messroom deck with other failed attempts to dine. Contrary to the normal habit of seamen, only a cursory attempt would be made to clear the mess from the deck until such time a semblance of stability returned. If such weather was prolonged a feeling of dampness pervaded. Each time a fellow shipmate came near, you caught the faint whiff of body odour which you learned to ignore, for in such conditions the benefit of a hot shower was not worth the risk to life and limb. Any water in a wash basin was immediately deposited on the deck with most other things. When off watch, you kept any unnecessary movement to a minimum to avoid the struggle required to remain upright as you bounced off the bulkheads and made unsteady progress along the narrow passageways. You were glad when the time came for your turn at the wheel so you could concentrate on the job for which you were trained. You were mindful of the trust that had been placed in your ability to maintain a course as best you could and more importantly of the need to keep the ship's head into the wind, not allowing it to fall away and expose her beam to the relentless sea and by so doing avoid the risk of capsize. You were grateful for the ship's hydraulic steering system, not like a previous ship which had chain steering that, in conditions such as this, made steering a most difficult and tiring occupation. However, the time passed quickly and when your relief arrived you felt strangely reluctant to hand over. You stepped down from the grating and with the tension gone, suddenly realised how tired you felt. Bracing yourself you went below where, in the confined accomodation' you felt much like the ball in a pin-ball machine. Your cabin offered little relief from the merry-go-round and you retired to the 'hoped for' safety your bunk might provide. However, tonight there was to be no escape, no temporary release that you normally found in the pages of that book you were reading. Tonight, you must give your full attention to the task at hand. Initially, you lay on your side with your forearm and knee braced against the bulkhead and your bum pushed back against the retaining board of the bunk to prevent lateral ejection. You hoped it might work, but it doesn't, for each time the ship lurches into a bottomless trough, you can do nothing to stop becoming airborne, a rather frightening sensation. Quite involuntarily, you are transformed into a missile capable of causing serious injury to yourself and the ships fittings.......(Fock the ships fittings I hear you say, and rightly so). You then lay on your back, the soles of your feet braced against the bottom of the bunk, your left arm braced against the bulkhead behind your head and your right hand gripping, tightly, the top of the bunk-board. It is not the perfect solution, nothing ever is, but it does, at least, maximise the prospect of your continued existence on this planet, if only for the immediate future. Eventually, sleep-deprived and zombie-like, you managed to survive and give little thought to the next occasion when you would do it all again.
It was all part of life for a crew member on the 'little ships'.................................

I mention this simply to remind my fellow shipmates that there existed another side to being a merchant seaman that some of you may not have encountered. Ivan, I'm sure could relate to this and, perhaps, has one or two stories of his own.


.........Roger

[j.sabourn]

Roger, I could come out with stories of 5 week stretches in the North Sea in wintertime, hove to and going backwards, receiving messages to see if you were still afloat. However for all that I still felt safer on a small vessel. The largest Deep sea vessel I was on was about 35,000 tons Deadweight and in its time was considered big. Nowadays these monstrosities do nothing for me. No matter how big a ship is the rules apply to them all the same. As regards water and showering that stopped as soon as you left port .Mattress a piece of foam rubber. Some ships as regards conditions not so long back went back to the 1800"s. One company issued a sleeping bag to each man (and probably still do) and this was quite acceptable to most. Seamen are a very hardy bunch and will accept most conditions as long as they are getting a decent wage, unfortuanetley in a lot of cases just mentioned even that wasn't happening. Regards John Sabourn

[Ivan Cloherty]

Roger, you captured the essence of a coasting life to its very core, it was always a feeling of achievement reaching the next port. We must have been mad because we always went back for more. Your literary bent has no equal and never fails to impress.

But I blame the rod and chain steering because somehow we've ended up in Quotes rather than Amsterdam