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Looking back through history we know of the sailing ships and how they were crewed, RN very often with press ganged crew.
I wonder how many died as a the result of falling from the shrouds?
Young lads as young as ten I have read sent up to furl or unfurl the sails.
Most bare footed on that rigging in all manner of weathers and ships pitching and tossing in heavy seas.
Some with very limited experience yet having to do all the same work.
Worst I have ever had is a falling off a ladder ashore
I have a journal written by a 17 year old girl who went round cape horn on her father's sailing ship and she records " today the ni***r boy fell from the top mast and died". I would like to put my transcript of the journal on the site but it is too large to upload.
Rgds
J.A.
John wasn't that story in the Articles section some time ago I seem to remember reading it somewhere on site somewhere, it was a very good read. Rgds Den
Not shipboard but still about working aloft so hope I'm not off thread.
I started work for the GPO Telephones in 1964, based at Basildon new town, the area was still very rural at that time. On my first day I was
allocated to an overhead working party that was recovering redundant open wires from a route of telephone poles. When we arrived at the
place of work, I was taken to a pole situated in a field, it was a 45ft pole with 8 cross arms full of insulators and wires, I was given a thick
heavy leather safety belt and brief instructions in how to wear it and attach it to the pole, my job was to cut away the wires and recover the
insulators, at the far end of the field was a herd of cows. As I was cutting the wires I noticed the cows had wandered over to the pole and were
gathered around looking up at me, as I got to the last few wires the tension was too much and they snapped causing the pole to bounce around
with a mind of it's own, the cows stampeded up the field and I nearly messed myself. A few years later the leather belts were changed for a new
lightweight nylon belt with the means of pulling yourself closer to the pole or slackening off, shortly after they were introduced one of the lads
was killed as his belt slackened it's self off and he came down, can't remember what the inquiry found but the belts were not withdrawn. John Collier
When I first came to CA to learn to fly a fellow student wth whom I had come friends with, his Dad lived in Epsom, was part one of a telecommunications company that installed dishes and antennas for TV companies and the like.Quote:
Originally Posted by John F Collier
I went with him on a coule of projects as there was some hope that his company would be able to sponsor me for a visa. Anyway we went out to one project about 6000 ft up a mountain to install a 12ft diameter microwave dish and repeater transmitter. This was the first time I have seen rain go upwards! We had driven up some tiny track through the cloud base and end up above it but th strong updraft was blowing the falling rain up the side of the mountain.
One of the team was a trainee as his company was an approved trainer for the organization that represents antenna and tower workers, NATES if I reall. Chris and I were inside the shack doing the easy stuff when we hear shouting, the trainee had frozen about 40 ft up the tower whilst the other two were trying to stop the dish being blown around and ripping it of the tower. At the time I was a keen climber so without thinking I climbed up the tower to help secure th dish and then helped the kid down. All of this with no harness in strong winds and rain.
My friend wasn't sure if to be mad at me for taking th risk or pleased I'd helped save the dish and the trainee.
SDG
Times have changed, presumably for the better, but in my time at sea, 1968 to 1981, and probably since the beginning of time and for sometime after my time people just got on and did what needed to be done. I was a 2nd Engineer on a ship and had an electrician who couldn't work at height so when the mast head light was not working I ended up changing the lamp. the last bit of the mast was just a pole with foot pieces sticking out, I intertwined my legs around these to give myself two free hands to do the job, I managed but was convinced that as the ship rolled I was over the sea from one side to the other but in reality I probably wasn't, luckily I never had to do that again.Quote:
Originally Posted by John Arton
I have posted this before but it appears fitting to post it again here :-
Things that were done in the 60s as commonplace, would appear out and out stupid and downright dangerous nowadays. But, that was the way of the world then and you did it that way or you were a wimp.
My first venture aloft on my first trip, would either make or without doubt break ( if not some part of my body – then my spirit ) I had decided. It had to be done, so I had therefore made it known to the Bosun that I was ready to venture upwards, merely I hoped, to the mast table and not to heaven.
It was agreed that this event would take place at sea, on a calm day with little wind, a kindness for which I was very grateful, however the thought crossed my mind that it might have been better to have done it in port, in similar weather conditions and the chance of at least some qualified medical treatment if something went wrong. I voiced my concerns, this was received with some mirth and I was assured that if something did go wrong, then medical treatment would probably be a lost cause. This piece of information did my state of mind no good whatsoever, and so not wishing for one second, to appear a wimp I laughed it off.
A couple of days later whilst on passage between Las Palmas and Brazil, I was working on deck when the Bosun called me over. He pointed to the table of the foremast and said, “ Right off you go “. Heart in mouth and sick in stomach, I made my way to the foot of the foremast.
I began climbing and was doing quite well until I approached the table. I then realised that the table stuck outwards at an angle above my head. How the h-ll was I to get up and over this outcrop onto the table itself. I stopped. A voice from below shouted, “ Come on, hurry up “. I shouted down, “ How do I get further up ?” The voice shouted, “ stick your hand up and over the edge and you will find a hand hold, pull yourself up by that “.
Looking up I saw a hand hold on the slope of the table base. I managed to get as far up the mast as possible, grabbed the handhold with my left hand and then reached up as far as I could over the edge of the table with my right hand. At first I felt nothing but suddenly, when I felt I could hold on no longer with my left hand, I felt the hand hold and grabbed it. The voice then shouted, “ Grab the base of the railing with your left hand and pull yourself up “. I did as I was told, and managed to then haul myself onto the table itself.
I was there, some 40 feet above the deck, on a flat gloss painted steel surface, about three feet wide at its middle, tapering to about eighteen inches at the ends and which was covered in salt and quite slippery. There was a small single handrail running around the table, which I gripped fiercely.
The wooden topmast was in the centre of the table and attached to it was the yardarm or crosstree with the flag halyards rigged to it, also attached to the topmast was the masthead light, another 25 feet above my head.
The topmast ladder was made up of wire sides and rope rungs. This was attached at the top and at the bottom, which allowed it to bow out slightly when being climbed and when the ship rolled.
“ Up, Up, “ shouted the voice from below, “ Up, Up to the masthead light “. Oh ****, I thought, am I really going to like this job. I grabbed the ladder and began to climb. Out bowed the ladder and I nearly had an accident of the underwear type but held on and in the end managed to reach the masthead light. “ OK, you can come down now shouted the voice. I gladly climbed down the ladder to the table.
Now what, how the h-ll do I get to the foremast ladder ? “ Oye “ shouted the voice, obviously knowing my thoughts, “ Grab the handrail and handhold , and feel with your feet for the mast ladder “. I again did as I was told and dangled my legs over the edge, feeling with my feet for the mast ladder rungs. Fortunately I found them first time and by reaching down for the hand hold on the underside of the table and then transferring my other hand to the ladder, I got over the edge of the table and onto the mast ladder quite easily. The decent down the mast ladder was a doddle and I arrived back on deck, in one piece and with clean underwear.
“ Well done “, said the Bosun. “ Now you can do that, cant you ?”, I nodded, “ Good “ he said, “ Because its your job to change the bulb in the masthead light when it blows, which can be a couple of times a trip “. I nearly collapsed.
When I think back, there was no safety harness, no safety procedures, nothing but the deck to break your fall. At least mountain climbers had ropes, but this was normal practice then and nobody had a second thought about it. I didn’t either after a couple of trips.
Elf and Safety – what was that ?
Crossing the Western Ocean in winter, on the Empress of France, she was doing somersaults, so I climbed the rigging , on the weather side, [ on the lee side you would get blown off,] and had to let go with my hands, I had a 1930s box camera so two hands needed to take a photo, wrapped my legs around the rigging and took the photo. this was 1956.
Brilliant - thanks Brian - the North Atlantic is one scary place, a lot worse than the Bay of Biscay I think.
I remember when I fell of the mast in Port Harcourt, my broken legs facing different directions and my broken arm hanging off.
The Bosun stood above me, shouting, "Dont just lie there, leap aloft again or you will lose your nerve."
I would have thumped him if I could have stood up.
I felt reassured when I arrived at the hospital on the back of a flat bed lorry, and the Doctor looked at me and said,
"Whats the matter for you, cant you want to or dont you or something. I go fixam good for you "
He did fixam good for me.