Onward and Upward
by Published on 16th September 2018 02:35 PM
Esso Cardiff.jpg
I’d left the “Adviser” on return to Liverpool and now looked for ways toward my Second Mate’s Certificate. I started by buying a second-hand copy of ‘Principles for Second Mates’ and another of ‘Nicholls Concise Guide to Navigation’. On looking through them and seeing the requirements for geometry, trigonometry, algebra and a lot of other mysteries it was obvious that my village school education when I left at the age of fourteen had not been enough, so I approached the Flying Angel seaman’s mission who in turn directed me to the Seafarers Education Service; they kindly provided a correspondence course in mathematics. So now I was all set to go.
Not wishing to rejoin the “Adviser” I somehow found myself employed by Esso Tankers. I signed on to the “Esso Cardiff” which was a T2 tanker, one of many built by the United States during the war. The difference in the living conditions between the two Company’s was astonishing, with Esso the ships were clean, the cabins spacious and the food. Oh, the food! In the sparkling clean messroom there was a fridge kept full of cold cuts, fruit, milk and ice cream!! A wonder land for a sixteen-year-old boy who knew nothing other than wartime rations and the barely edible grub of T and J Harrison’s.
I found that I was now a Junior Ordinary Seaman, Esso didn’t have Deck Boys and the pay was better, everything was better except for the ports of call and the time in port, we loaded at places such as Abadan on the Persian Gulf and a full load took only a matter of hours, the same when discharging in Europe. The terminals were usually miles from anywhere and there was nothing to go ashore for anyway. We never knew where we would end up as our destination was always termed ’Lands End for Orders’; just few days before reaching that point we would be radioed where in Europe we were to go.
The one exception was when we were diverted to Valencia, Spain, on arrival we tied up at a cargo berth which obviously didn’t have the equipment that a regular oil terminal would have. We discharged through a single pipe which was no larger that a four-inch hose, it took a week!! A week in port in Spain for tanker men who were not used to going ashore, Heaven!!
There were two occasions in Valencia which were memorable. One evening while sitting in a bar, a beautiful girl resplendent in the local traditional dress appeared. She had a basket of long-stemmed roses for sale and I bought one from her. She wasn’t much younger than myself and I never saw her again, so nothing came of it, but I think I fell in love.
Then there was the Bull Fight. A group of us attended one and we were not favorably impressed. We saw young bulls first tortured by the Picadors and Bandoleros until streaming with blood and hardly able to stand and then the Matador in all his glory administer the coup de gras with his sword, not always successfully. We saw six bulls slaughtered in two hours and then dragged from the arena by a team of mules while the spectators cheered, and the trumpets blared. While walking disconsolately back to the ship one of my companions remarked, “Matador, huh I could have done better with a six-inch nail”. I’ve always believed in respecting the culture and beliefs of a country I visit. But all I could do about this was to say to myself ‘say nothing’.
I spent two years with Esso, approximately six months on four different ships, all of them T2s, during which time I took my Efficient Deck Hand certificate and became an AB. But I decided that tanker life was not for me and I would be better able to study if I was closer to the actual running of a ship, so I applied for, and secured a position as Quartermaster/AB with the City Line. I was eighteen years old.
But that’s another story.
