THE LINTHOUSE TWINS

When Stephen's Shipyard laid her keel
At Linthouse, on the Clyde;
And the rivets clenched the steel to steel,
While the Riggers 'rigged' topside.
Then the Clydeside shipyard's 'canny men'
Raked both her masts and stack,
These classic looks of an 'A' class ship
Just kept Fyffes coming back.
Then they gave her forced draught boilers,
With twin engines, painted white:
These Linthouse Twins, standing side by side:
In paired pristine delight.

She was champagne'd down the slipway
Like her sister ship before;
The CAVINA'S legend put to sea;
In Nineteen Twenty Four.
Then she had her final fit-out,
And a makeshift crew aboard;
When the twin screws dipped her counter stern;
Five thousand voices roared.
She was bunkered to the coamings,
There was coal from seam to seam:
And the Linthouse twins, standing side by side:
An engineering dream.

Now "Full Ahead" down the Irish Sea.
Against a gentle blow.
While the helmsman fought the gimbal'd road,
And the blackgang, down below;
Sliced, pitched and raked; and forged her myth,
And cursed her hungry maw;
Glared at the gauge with black-rimmed eyes;
And worked their fingers raw.
She came about; off St Ann's Head,
Stern to the Western Ocean:
And the Linthouse Twins, standing side by side:
In syncopated motion.

Between Lundy Isle and Avon mouth,
The Breaksea’s flashing light,
Would herald Bristol Pilot's launch;
And thirsts would ease, that night:
One King's tug took the bow line,
The Sea Prince hooked the stern,
The blackgang sighed, and eased their backs:
There's coal enough to burn.
The makeshift crew would head back north,
They'd finished their transaction;
And the Linthouse twins, standing side by side:
Still warm from all the action.

Warped, motionless against West Wharf:
Devoid of human sound:
Metallic silence: filled with time:
A Queen; as yet uncrown'd.
She waited for the different touch,
Of deep sea men; headstrong:
But sure of hand; their secret was:
The "Oldest kind of Song".
They came from England's south and west,
They brought their seamens' lore:
And the Linthouse Twins, standing side by side:
A nascent rhythmic core.

The strident song of life returns
As she prepares for sea.
The watches set; by Bosun's eye
For 'salt sagacity;'
Hold ready for the coming task
Of magic transformation;
Of moving steel and men, and minds;
To a distant destination.
Two Bristol hands caress the wheel;
Two Pill men ease the spring:
And the Linthouse twins, standing side by side:
Matched powers, burgeoning.

The tugs' whistles build the tension
And she's eased out from her berth;
There's some cheering from the quayside,
People wave for all their worth.
Lines are snaking back and foreward,
Mates' caps dashing side to side,
Her counter stern just clears the lock;
She's made the evening tide.
Tugs take their leave at Kingroad,
The Avon's proper mouth:
And the Linthouse twins standing side by side:
Pushed the 'Cavina' south.

The Pilot, dropped at Breaksea Light,
Will miss the world that forms
When ships head westward, free of land,
In Western Ocean storms.
Some Westerlies, some North East Trades,
A thousand miles of sea;
Brief landfall, off the starboard bow,
The Azores slips a'lee.
The West Indies’ banana trade
Had grown with White Ships' fame:
And the Linthouse twins, standing side by side:
Played their part in the game.

The rhythms of the ship and men
Were bonded to the sea;
And the markings of her labours
Were attended ceaselessly;
But the "Oldest Song" was being sung,
And unity prevailed;
As the White Ship crossed the hidden line
Where once the Pinta sailed.
But thoughts were few for history's course,
For they were making history then:
And the Linthouse twins, standing side by side:
Crossed the hidden line again.

A British fact: When passengers
And crew live quietly, side by side;
Like planets in celestial arcs,
They never do collide.
They just revolve in their station,
Very British: without fuss;
Quite different when they're all aboard,
A Bristol Omnibus.
Ah; but this was not Potemkin,
With her history to acquit;
And the Linthouse twins, standing side by side:
Made revolutions by the minute.

The order came to "Rig the pool,"
And "Paint the Masts and Stack,"
So chairs were rigged and gantlines reeved,
And "Aye Aye's" thundered back.
The pool; a mix of canvas, spars;
Wireropes and bottlescrews,
Was set up on the Well Deck; aft;
And the blackgang had good views.
When the passengers, discreetly dressed,
Bathed in a box of sea;
And the Linthouse twins, standing side by side:
Pumped in complicity.

While seamen know how freedom feels
To work a bosun's chair,
And blackgangs know a banjo's weight;
Or desperate need for air;
The steward battles daily woe
Or visceral insurrection;
But none can match the Peggy's angst:
When the Captain has inspection.
Each Sunday brings this Moby Dick,,
In white, from head to toe:
And the Linthouse twins, standing side by side:
Maintain the status quo.

Nineteen degrees of Latitude,
With blue translucent sea;
The rhythm of the holystones;
Fyffes water therapy.
Fifty degrees of Longitude,
Eight hundred miles to run,
Just two days from Barbados:
One day anchored in the sun.
The mail is lower'd to a launch,
The rum will come back up:
And the Linthouse twins, standing side by side:
Each with an oiling cup.

With Trinidad and Port of Spain
Just half a day away,
From the western 'Caribbean' side
Of 'Little England's ' cay.
The steel drums and calypso sounds;
Now float out from the shore;
And the bottled liquid migraine
Means; it's Mardi Gras once more.
Strange music from a primal source
Throbs well in to the night:
And the Linthouse twins, standing side by side:
Welcome the brief respite.

Berthed all too brief, in Port of Spain,
Just passengers and mail;
Some barter for 'Three Daggers' rum,
Then, 'standing by' to sail;
For Kingston and some time ashore;
Jamaican recreation;
West Indies fruit and produce
From Hannover Street plantation.
The Gleaner read, more 'Planter's Punch'
At the Myrtle Bank Hotel:
And the Linthouse twins, standing side by side:
Get their oil changed as well.

The lure of Kingston after dark,
Reflected in the eyes,
Of the deck crew and the blackgang,
Who come back, with the sunrise.
They came with smiles and memories,
Some faint, some violent;
They bore the look of men who felt:
Their money was well spent.
Now waiting: while the tales unfold;
Pale prince, dark heroine:
And the Linthouse twins, standing side by side:
Now waiting, to begin.

With steam syphoned from Scotch boilers
Her departing whistle's call,
Echoed and swooped through Kingston town;
Farewell, to one and all.
The twin screws pulled her bow round,
Her stern line slipped away,
The telegraph rang: 'Half Speed Ahead",
Next stop: Montego Bay.
The plantations get the order,
Fyffes want nothing but the best:
And the Linthouse twins, standing side by side:
Respond to this behest.

Her twenty two feet, 'shallow draft',
Will moor most anywhere;
And Orocabessa's foreshore
Has a tiny rail line there.
Green stems are ported: high on heads,
A machete cleans the ends;
The Tallyman is keeping score,
Hands outstretched for stipends.
Four stems a penny, is the wage,
But no pay for the ripe:
And the Linthouse twins, standing side by side:
Their pay: an oily wipe.

The final port of Martinique
Is slipping fast astern;
With North East course and North West wind
The helm needs, half a turn.
With fifteen days to Avonmouth
It's soogie time again;
So there's two men on the Foremast
And there's three men on the Main.
In the evening there's sea stories,
And there's smoking and there's rum:
And the Linthouse twins, standing side by side:
Tweedledee and Tweedledum.

And so it was, for many years,
For thirty years or more.
This veteran queen of countless seas;
Had battled through a war.
She'd made her home at Avonmouth,
Her name was legendry;
She'd taken boys away from home,
And brought men back from sea.
Many names had made this legend;
Each with their tale to tell:
And the Linthouse twins, standing side by side:
Were famous names as well.

But then; in Nineteen Fifty six,
With progress closing in;
And the British Merchant Navy
Fought a fight they couldn't win.
So Fyffes sold the old Cavina,
She was renamed 'Catusha';
And went sailing to her graveyard,
With the flag of Panama.
She was broken up at Hong Kong;
Her fate, not unforseen:
And the Linthouse twins, standing side by side:
The still heart of a Queen.

Reg Kear
Australia ©1992