Leaving Home.

[Jim Brady]

Do you remember leaving home for the first time and wondering if you had done the right thing.It's to late now Im on my way Il have to face whats coming to me.As a kid I was in the Sea Cadets and I was down on the docks every weekend aboard ships,most of the boys in my neighborhood went away and the address of Leadenhall Street was passed down over the years. I applied and got my application form through,I always remember it it had the big Red Ensign on the top.I was completing the form,my mother enquired what I was upto,I told her I was going away to sea on deck,this was my obvious choice as I was an AB in the cadets.My mother put the blocks on that,if I went away to sea I was going away as a steward,I hated the idea but it was in the days that you did as you were told despite the fact that I was16 years of age.My mother had been brought up in the depression and bad years and had only seen the stewards with the money.Dont forget Liverpool had all the Liner traffic so the stewards would've had the money whilst the deck crowd and engine room crowd had nothing.Consequently I had to suffer the life of a steward whether I liked it or not,funny enough with me taking that road my life turned out for the better.
I'm sorry I digressed there and got carried away from the original post,the question was do you remember your first night away and lying in your bunk thinking"What am I doing here"
It's funny how you are brought down to size.My first day a Gravesend,I went down in my brothers gear who had been called up for National Service,I suppose I was a sprog I did'nt have much.All these guys came in Tony Curtis haircuts ducks **** at the back Drape Suits,Drain Pipe Trousers and thick Crepe Brothel Creeper shoes they were real hard cases.I'm out of my depth here I thought.The next day their hair was cut off they were in a Piss Jacket and a pair of blue kecks the same as me and they were nobody just as I was.We all realised why we were there and we all got on with it the best we could.
What are your first memories on leaving home?
Regards.
Jim.B.

[happy daze john in oz]

I left home at the tender age of about 16, before that the furthest I had been was to the North of England on holidays. Off to the Vindi on a cold November morning. Spent the firts day there looking at what may well have resembled how some of the prison ships of the 1800's must have looked.No uniform until day three so we had to go around in our own clothes, looked very odd against the others who had been there for weeks. Remember the first meal, bread and jam, well that's what they said it was, and commenst from the older guys that by the end of the week we would be so hungry we would eat the rear end out of a low flying chook. My mother was a total mess when I finaly left to join my first ship, but she did recover, eventualy.

[Captain Kong]

For me it was easy, I was a Sea Cadet and so too were my four mates from school. Fred, Ted, Terry and Jimmy. We all went to the Vindicatrix in Sharpness, together and into the same Hut together.
There was no bullying from the more senior inmates, I guess five mates put them off.
I copped off with a village girl during the first week, I was still in civies, uniforms were not given until after one week in case you did a runner. I stayed at her parents home when I came home on leave for nearly three years but unfortunately she got married to a local lad. At the first reunion of the Vindi Association in 1993, she made contact with me at the hotel I was at. That young lady still sends me Christmas cards after 60 years.
Being in the Sea Cadets made us far more confident than the lads who were not. I knew seamanship, bends, hitches, splicing ropes and wires, familiar with ships and so on. I did training on HMS DUKE OF YORK, battleship, and Cruisers, DIDO and SIRIUS. So no problem, after four weeks I was Bosun of the Ship, Vindicatrix, I have the discharge in my first book. I guess there are not many guys around with a Bosuns discharge in their Book from a Cape Horn Windjammer. ex ARRANMORE of 1893. [ tho` she was static at the time ] as a trainingship in the dock.


Here is a photo of me, in 1950, under the 14 inch guns of HMS DUKE OF YORK, the guns that sank the the German Battleship SCHARNHORST in WW2

[cranesailor]

I did my deckboy training at the Blue Funnel training school in Odyssey works, Birkenhead so was home every night. But when I joined my first ship, Achilles, it was Christmas Eve, and I lost all my enthusiasm for a life at sea, as we left the berth and moved into Alfred Basin at about 21.00 hours. I could see up the Dock Rd to the bus depot at Seacombe Ferry and was extremely tempted to get off in the locks and get on the No 16 bus and be home in ten minutes.
In the event, I stayed on board and did the voyage. Cant say I enjoyed it, life as a Blue Flue peggy was certainly not a bed of roses, but thats another story.
Regards,
cranesailor

[Ivan Cloherty]

Having been an evacuee during the war seperated from family, leaving home didn't present any problems really, as was used to it.

My first trip to sea was at the age of 13 on a deep water trawler ("Swanland")to Iceland, spending three weeks round that coast and actully docking in Sedisfjordun when a crewman got injured, spent some hours there. Not many foreign trawlers docked in Iceland so it was quite an adventure.

A lot of lads from Hull Trinity House Navigation School and Hull Boulevard Nautical College tried to get places on trawlers during the vacations, Boulevard lads got preference as a lot of lads from there took up that life, although a valuable experience and extremely well paid for a very very dangerous job as a life it was not for me. Hearing dad talk about all the places he had visited whilst he was home on leave whilst in the MN whetted my appetite for those romantic sounding names in the atlas.

Although I had a marvellous mother and family even at 13 cannot recall wanting to be at home whilst on the trawler because it was all so exciting and they worked you so hard, no passengers on a trawler even 13 year old ones, you were so knackered with your few hours off, you just slept, the crew were a rough and ready lot but ensured you were safe, worked you hard and tipped you well at the end of the voyage, I was to do further trips when I was 14 and 15 before joining PSNC as a cadet when 16, so never any thoughts of missing home, even though I had a good one, life was just too exciting. No computers or Play Stations to distract you, the REAL world was exciting enough, never regretted any of it. There were of course times when you wished you were somewhere else whilst in the middle of a hurricane or typhoon but they were all part of the excitement, unless you werethe mate and could see all your valuable overtime paid for pristine paintwork being ruined by weeping rivets etc, but that's another story.

Good post Jim, will get the "little grey cells" working for a lot of us

Ivan

[Keith Tindell]

HI Jim,
Remeber arriving Gravesend well, 1957, 16 years old, and as you say, what have i done, 12 weeks later walked away feeling jack the lad. I can remember the infamous Capt Mc kellor, he used to come to the accomodation some nights well bevied, ranting and raving, always some one would wind him up, hppy days as a 16 year old, today they are still at school, regards Keith Tindell

[Gulliver]

I couldn’t wait to get to sea.
I’d just done my six months pre-sea induction at Riversdale,finishing just before Christmas.,and waited for the call from Personnel to tell me which ship I’d be joining.(“Very soon ,laddie,very soon “.and just make sure you’re all packed ready to leave at a moment’s notice. Ships wait for NOBODY-least of all for a first trip Cadet !”
“Yes Sir ! Was all I could really reply. I was no rebel in those days…twenty years at sea would harden me up somewhat.
Well New Year 1970 came and went,,,then February…then March…do you know I really thought it wasn’t going to happen, Perhaps they’d found out something bad about me,perhaps they were having second thoughts about my character, and my ability to fit in at sea,perhaps they KNEW that at 16 I’d ‘borrowed’ my Grandad’s Ford Corsair,driven it without a licence and crumpled the front left hand wing when returning it to his driveway.(Yes,even though I was the son of a policeman).

I lived near Warrington,and would walk a couple of miles to Chester Road Swing Bridge just to see a Manchester Liner pass through the Canal,or to Liverpool Pier Head to get the ferry to Woodside and watch the ships and get a lungful of sea air.
Once I even went into a pub near Mann Island-can’t remember the name-but got drinking and talking ‘the sea’ with what I assumed were jolly jacks from the ships,but in actual fact were probably dockers on an early finish.They must have thought I was a right prat- me agreeing with the stories they were spinning,as if I understood absolutely what they were saying-when in actual fact I’d been nowhere,hadn’t lived !
And then,having to get off the H5 Crosville bus halfway back to Warrington,probably at Cronton-because I’d maxed out my bladder and just couldn’t hold it any more…jumping off the bus,down a quiet grassy track,relieving my bladder,then my stomach,then horror of horrors,my bowels,then falling into a deep coma for about 45 minutes. Being woken by a cocker spaniel licking my face,then a posh woman’s voice (well I bet they are posh in Cronton, braying something like “Come here ,Bosie darling,leave that poor man alone“)or perhaps she said that ’ tramp’ or something),before edging carefully past me and all my spilled bodily fluids.
I cleaned myself up with handfuls grass before getting the next homeward-bound bus. How sick I must have looked,and I was sure the other passengers could smell me,or knew what I’d been up to.
Never again I kept telling myself,never again…but you all know how it is…..
How I wanted to get to sea……
Anyway,the call finally came.Wow,I was to fly out with a whole group of Officers to join my very first ship., In Genoa on the 24th March.
(Genoa-birthplace of Christopher Columbus I thought..how very auspicious was that ? .I didn’t actually-just thought about it later !
On the day,I can’t remember ever saying goodbye to my big sister and little brother-I was too impatient for that.My mum had to go to work that day,but I don’t remember any tears-though I’m sure she did later.
My Dad drove me to Speke Airport,and watched me check in. The Personnel manager said to him,”Don’t worry,Mr.Smith,your son will have 20 fathers aboard ship to keep an eye on him “(which I sort of resented,the cheeky so-and-so!)
Dad just said “Bye son.you behave yourself-you’re not too old to get a thick ear when you come home !
When I turned round he was walking out the swing doors,and I felt that my 6 foot tall Dad was shrinking-he looked so small and his shoulders were drooping.He looked old just then,and perhaps he felt it,after all his eldest son was 17 now and leaving home.Perhaps he was thinking about when he left home at 17 -it was to join the Royal Marines in 1942,and then to Normandy…
That image remains with me to this day,and Dad and I often remembered that day over the years..
A tear in my eye now,I still miss talking to him ,but back to the trip.
I can honestly say it was the best six months of my life-nothing ever came close to it afterwards and I thank God,that I can still relive all of it in my mind.
Gulliver
　
　
　
　

[Captain Gordon Whittaker]

I found this in my backup files :- Attachment 5184

[Gordon Turnbull]

9th January 1972. Train from Stirling to Gravesend via London obviously. Fifteen years old, not 16 till the end of February. Taxi from the house. Never been in a taxi before and I don’t even know how my Mum managed to get one as we had no telephone then. My Dad never came. He originally refused to sign the papers allowing me to go but Mum talked him into it thankfully. Was heading down a very slippery slope at the time and on the 6th January had stood in front of the judge in his private chambers at Stirling Sherriff Court to be told that I appeared to be starting a new life in the Merchant Navy I would not be remanded in custody but if he ever saw me again for even the most trivial of offences it would be curtains. This date had been brought forward a week to accommodate me going away. Anyway, I digress. I always had been more of a Mummy’s boy. Probably because of my outlook on life and willingness to try and kick 7 bells of crap out of anyone who disagreed with me I think she saw me as a project that could be saved. Still to this day think she saw things in me that nobody else ever saw and realised that a small village in Central Scotland was not big enough for me. Tears? Cannot recall any from either of us. Just me hanging out the window waving goodbye to wee Jean, as everybody knew her (damn I miss that woman). I had been away for a short period before when I spent some time in Russia and East Germany during the school holidays, but that time when I left Stirling, there was about a dozen of us, this time there was me but not fazed by it at all.
I cannot recall, and I don’t suppose it even matters, which station the train went into. Either King’s Cross or Euston, probably King’s Cross as I am sure it was the Inverness-London train. Anyway, into London, on to the tube to whatever station it was for Gravesend. Got to Gravesend and looking back the only emotion I think I felt was excitement. Excitement at all these people with stupid accents, excitement at sharing a room (was it 16 or 32 to a room? Damned if I remember) with so many people. Excited at what I hoped would be lifelong friendships and definitely excited about getting away to sea and seeing the world. I was obviously one of the youngest there but I never felt intimidated at all. Quite the reverse in fact. Had my birthday in February and received a nice parcel from wee Jean to keep me going. Seem to recall it was 10 weeks for us Stewards so left third week in March. Had a week at home then got a telegram from the Pool to appear that day with my gear. Off I went without being able to say cheerio to anybody. Windsor Castle, Southampton obviously, tourist Bell Boy. **** myself walking in to the saloon when it was in full bloom with all these wonderful wingers. Wonderful times without a doubt.