seafaring stories

Here is the RMS FRANCONIA.She sailed on her maiden Voyage on 23 June 1923 from Liverpool to New York and she continued on this route during the summer months until the outbreak of war , Her maiden voyage was between Liverpool and New York on 23 June 1923 and she continued on this route during the summer months until the outbreak of war Her winters were spent on 133 day world cruises.
On 10 April 1926 she was involved in a collision leaving Shanghai harbour. While leaving her wharf she ran aground, her stern swinging around and hitting a Japanese cargo vessel and an Italian gunboat, the Libya. A buoy then became tangled in the Franconia?s propellers, sinking a lighter in the process and killing four members of its crew. I saw a photo of that event with the drowning men in the water alongside the Franconia.
In September 1939 she was requisitioned as a troopship and refitted at Liverpool. Her first convoy was to transport troops to Malta, but while travelling in convoy with the Alcantara and Empress of Australia the Franconia was involved in a collision with the Alcantara, As a result of this accident the Franconia had to undergo major repairs at Malta. Later, during the evacuation of the British Expeditionary Force from France, she was damaged by air raids while carrying 8,000 troops. For the rest of the war she continued as a trooper, travelling to India and the Middle East via Cape Town and taking part in the invasions of Madagascar, North Africa and Italy. A friend , who is no longer with us, was on the Franconia approaching Scycily for the invasion with troops, she was attacked by German bombers, A stick of six bombs exploded underneath her and he said the ship was lifted completely out of the water by the blasts. This damaged the engines and shafts, but she was able to carry on. In 1944 she carried American troops from New York to the Mediterranean. During her period of Government service she covered 319,784 miles and carried 189,239 troops.
The Franconia`s moment of war time glory came in January 1945. The ?Big Three - Churchill, Roosevelt and Stalin - were to meet at Yalta on the Black Sea to discuss the shape of post-war Europe. The Franconia acted as the base for the British delegation, returning to Liverpool in March 1945.

After the end of the war, the Franconia, like many of the requisitioned vessels, continued in government service repatriating troops and prisoners of war. She returned to Cunard`s control in June 1948 and was sent to the Clyde for a nine-month reconditioning. On 2 June 1949 she resumed a passenger service, this time sailing from Liverpool to Quebec, and later Montreal, In 1956 she did the Liverpool New York run.
The Franconia`s withdrawal from service was announced in October 1956. He last sailing was on 3 November between Liverpool and New York and back again. The return voyage she broke down with mechanical faults and she was four days late when she reached Liverpool. She had been meant to carry troops to Suez, but the unreliability of her engines meant that she was withdrawn from this duty. She was sold to the British Steel & Iron Corporation and left Liverpool on 14 December 1956 to be scrapped at Inverkeithing.

`A Voyage on the Franconia]

I was on the Franconia in the summer of 1956, The Master was Captain Donald Murdo Maclean, DSO, RNR. later to become Master of Queen Mary and Queen Elizabeth as Commodore of Cunard. He was credited with sinking a U- Boat during the war. The Bosun was Nelson and Bosuns Mate was Charlie Chin.
The Franconia was a good job , plenty of money, with the overtime, and a good run to New York. A week across, a week in New York , a week across and a week in Liverpool.
I remember when a first class waiter dropped dead whilst serving passengers, Our watch on deck had to go into the saloon and carry him out, the first class passengers rather disturbed at having their evening dinner disrupted.
We took him to the Medical Centre and the Doctor certified him dead then told us to take him to the cool room down below. We took the lift to the working alleyway then we had to use the stores lift which was four feet high and about four feet wide, so we folded him up in it and sent it down. There were no fridges on the Franconia, the Chill room was full of blocks of ice and the meat was stowed on top of this also the veg. . He was naked and we laid him on top of the ice.
The following day the Doctor wanted him up in the Medical Centre to do a post mortem, so we had to go down to get him. He was frozen solid when we got there. We didnt like to touch him, he was icy cold like a marble statue. The Bosuns Mate said dont be so soft and then slid him off the ice and stood him up. So we had to get a hold of him, a bit gruesome. we got him to the stores lift and he was stiff so we had to struggle to get hin in, he was put diagonaly from the bottom corner to the opposite top corner we had to get Tommy Miller to get inside with him to get him position. Then the Bosuns Mate slammed the lift door on Tommy, and pressed the button for it to go up, then he pressed it again when it was between decks and stopped it. Tommy was screaming , he couldnt get out. The Bosuns Mate shouted Smoko and so we all went forard for a ciggy and a brew. Meanwhile in the lift which was against the engine room bulkhead was getting warm, it was dark in there and then the stiff started to move as it melted, Tommy was screaming in fear as this corpse started to move against him in the dark, he was demented.
When we returned the screams were terrible, The button was pressed and the lift arrived in the working alleyway and Tommy was there with the corpse lying on top of him. I have never seen so much fear in a mans eyes as then. we lifted the corpse of him and put him on a trolley and Tommy was told to go and have a smoko. Tommy went straight into the Pig and got himself drunk and 57 years later Tommy is still drunk. I still see him and we keep in touch.
The dead Steward was carried ashore at the Landing Stage in Liverpool and into an Undertakers van.
On the next trip homeward bound again a very large American female passenger died, she must have weighed about twenty stones. The night before we arrived in Liverpool, Paddy Dirkin and I had to take the coffin forard to the crew gangway shell doors ready for taking ashore when we docked. Paddy and I had had a few drinks before we did this and she was so heavy we couldnt carry her so we were dragging the coffin, which was only a rough box lined with cotton wool, with a rope. we stopped half way along and sat down on the coffin for a ciggy. Paddy told me that I had fallen asleep on top of the coffin. he had to wake me so we could carry on forard. Next day alongside the Stage, Paddy, Johnny Golbourne and I dragged the heavy coffin down the crew gangway and with the Undertaker lifted it into his van.
We were in Liverpool and we had to shift ship astern, George Waldron, ex Seaman and one of Cunards` shoregang was stood at the rails on the foredeck, The back spring came through the lead round the `old man` a lead around three or four feet high then down to the drum end on the winch. we were heaving her astern.
There was a loud crack and the `old man` snapped off at the deck and it flew straight at George like a catapult, and he was crushed against the rails. It took four of us to lift the `old man ` off him he was crushed from his face down to his feet cutting off part of them when it dropped. He was taken to hospital and the poor man suffered great pain, his internals were crushed and he developed septicemia, in hospital he swelled up like a big balloon and after six weeks he died. George was 45 years old and had four children.

New York was always a good run ashore, The beer, Wrexham Lager, in the Pig on the Franconia was an old 8 pence a pint, that was 30 pints for one pound. the Pig on the Franconia closed at 8 pm in New York, so we supped up and went down the gangway across the shed and up the gangway of the Queen Mary or Queen Elizabeth and carried on there in the Crew Pig, they didnt close until 10pm., then we would go ashore to the Market Diner across the road.on the corner of 52nd Street and 12th Avenue. The beer there was 10 cents a glass so we got ten glasses for a dollar. about twenty five to the pound. At those prices ale was cheap. Some times we go up to Broadway and do the bars and clubs, In Jack Dempsey`s Bar, for one dollar you could have your photo taken , shaking hands with "the hand that shook the world", across the road Tommy Dorsey`s Orchestra was always on there, always full, and a good night was to be had. There was good shopping there, Nylon stocking for the girls back home were cheap, Dupont Nylon, 15 denier, Always had a pocket full and at home in the Locarno dance hall, throw a couple of packets around and the girls would be screaming after me. We bought our suits from the Salvation Army store on 8th Avenue and I had a beautiful pure silk midnight blue drape suit with the bullet holes in the back sewn up by my Mother. $10, the suits and shirts were got from the City morgue so they were very cheap, I looked a million dollars in that suit, with a mid Atlantic accent, we were Cunard Yanks and the girls back home couldnt get enough of us. Records were good swag in those days, In the States they came out 12 months before you could get them in England due to a musicians strike. So they were always in demand for the most popular artistes and always made a few bob out of them. They were good days, Another good thing was the washing machines and fridges from the Salvation Army store, they were about 5 to 10 dollars each, the ship was full of them all in the working alleyway lashed to the bulkhead hand rails and on B Deck Square where our accommodation was. At the Stage in Liverpool, Daley`s big van would deliver them for five shillings. A few of the Stewards on big money would buy second hand cars. Big Yankee ones with tail fins, Buicks, Dodges, Chryselers and so on. they sold them cheap in a Dock yard around 33rd Street. Cars that had been pounded by the cops for parking violations and so on were sold cheap every weekend, they still do it today, I was in New York in April this year and the yard was still there full of cars waiting to be sold.
Cunard allowed them to carry the cars home, without insurance, if we loaded and unloaded them ourselves. So the Stewards would drive to the Pier 92 and pay us a handful of dollars to rig the derricks and load them and stow them on the hatch on B Deck square lash them down and pay us again to do it at the Stage in Liverpool where they would drive them home. A lot of those Stewards were like millionaires, there were all kinds of rackets going big money could be made mostly from the dropsies from the Bloods. We could make a load of dollars from washing up and polishing glasses in the passenger bars, paid for by the cocktail bar tenders.
In the Pig there were all kinds of gaming machines, Roulette, Cock and Hen Boards, Crown and Anchor Boards, Crap games, and so on, with big time Poker schools that lasted for days, with men being paid to do the players work and also to fetch coffee and sandwiches. pots going for thousands of dollars. A lot of wealthy passengers including movie stars would come down to the Pig for the gambling. There were no casinos allowed on ships in those days it was illegal under United States Laws.
All good things have to come to an end, I was in the Pig having a pint with Joe Finnegan when I should have been on look out up the crows nest, the Masters at Arms dragged me up on the Bridge and Captain Maclean had me logged and sacked. Joe Finnegan then gave me the name of Alehouse.
Three months later the Franconia was taken out of service and taken to the breakers in December 1956.
I just knew they couldnt do without me.

Kong. Lin reccomended that maybe some of us should sign on the Writers forum. I have done so but I do not write with your expertise and that of some of the other lads aboard this site. I always enjoy reading what you lads put down and realise how lucky I and lads of my age were who got away to sea. O.K. the ships I sailed on never had a 'Pig & Whistle'( except one, Braemar Castle) but we had a messroom or weather permitting a hatch to gather on and swap stories and some of 'em were stories. Exaggeration! Yeah we've all done it especially the blokes who got married with the promise to the lass she'll never regret it you'l always be there for her (sometimes the other side of the world). She would never have any worries!!!!
Come off it she married a seaman who had nothing but worries, the worries that a shore waller never knew, and you passed those worries on to her. BUT one thing she was never bored. My lass said to me recently, 'We've been married over 50 years and at times we've had sorrow and pain, but me married to you I've also had adventure thanks'. She would say something like that wouldn't she, just when I'm peeling the onions which make my eyes run.
So lads if you do what Lin asks I'll see you on the site but I'll always keep a weather eye open on this one.:p;):D

Hi Michael,
thanks for that.
I think anyone can write, I couldnt read or write when I was nine and ten years old. Like a lot of others I didnt go to school much during the war and so learned nothing except how to survive.
My teachers were taken away into the Services, old retired teachers took their places and were not interested, they couldnt care less if no kids turned up, then schools were turned into ARP posts and we were told to go to other schools so me and `our gang` never went so no one missed us and for two or three years we never went near to a school. The bomb sites were our playground, looking for shrapnel, bomb tail fins and bullets. The war for `our gang was exciting. better than school.
When I went to sea I found out I was lacking in my education so I tried to educate myself. I read every book I could find from DeGiovanni Boccaccio`s Decameron ( a collection of 100 novellas , to Hank Jansen and the Port Said Bibles.
I found that the more I wrote I got better. My earlier writings were rubbish and many tales have been binned. I am still not good enough but I keep on trying. I find the computer a great help that I never had in the past years. it has Spell Check and Grammar Check to correct the stories. Tho` I find the corrected grammar sometimes takes the true feeling away from some stories, Just write your stories as you tell them while sat on Number five hatch, then the computer will correct it.
I sailed with a good Third Mate who I was on watch with and he taught me Maths, he gave me a copy of Norries Tables and taught me how to use it and spherical trigonometry etc. He was the best teacher I have ever had. I had never done maths at school, only add ups and take aways.
and so I went to college over the years and did all my certificates up to Masters. So if I can do it I guess anyone can do any thing they want to including writing a few yarns.
I think our generation were robbed of an education by the war years, You get snotty people who were educated years after the war when education was good and people had a chance to go to Grammar School and even University, I found that these so called educated people looked down on others who through no fault of their own missed out on schooling due to the War. Some even resent the fact that you try to get an education to get qualifications, they think it is only for them and not the ones who have to try harder to catch up.
Keep on trying, you will get there.
Funny old life innit.

Cap'n
You are so right, no professional teachers at school during the war, just recycled ones who appeared to have little interest, probaly resented being brought out of retirement, primary school was catholic where they had the "bang it into them method" The nuns would ask a question, get it wrong and it was 2 bang bang around the head plus 2 bang bang equals 4 bang bang bang bang, luckily by the time she got to 12 + 12 we knew the answers.

At the Nautical school I attended, there was not one seafaring member amongst the teachers, two were ex RAF, two from the army and two old professional history and maths teacher, who also believed in the knock it into em method.

As you so rightly say those with a "Uni" education tend to look down on us lesser mortals who went to sea at a very early age,(regret to say I've noticed a couple of gents on this site are guilty of it) even my "Doctorate" daughters are guilty of it and they are nice kids, but poor illiterate dad does get asked to compose a letter for them now and again and also gets asked for "real life" advice. Then again I'm glad that they didn't have to go through what I and my siblings went through, although trips on deep sea trawlers at the age of 13,14 and 15 like their dad to help the family coffers may not have come amiss, just to make them realise that it was not always all wine and roses.

Ivan

Just to be fair Ivan and Kong, like you my earlier education left a lot to be desired, but by the time I got into secondary school in 49 we had a lot of blokes back from the war (women too) who were all the more interesting because they had that pause in their teaching career to wage havoc and and in some cases enjoyed their war. They also knew how to use a cut down slipper or a fair size T square. My Dad bless him didn't. Nrth Africa, Scicily, Italy and into Austria he was part of the mob that, that silly c-w Lady Astor called the D Day dodgers. Came home in 46 and into hospital with rheumatic fever. He learned me to have a healthy contempt for most politicians, Tories in particular and when I see them come off the assembly belt no work ethic but want to be an M.P. and tell others how to to put their backs into it. Then you've the other sort, 'I want to be a celeb'. WHAT THE FORE AND AFT IS A FORE AND AFT CELEB. Oh Yeah then you 'ave the can't wait to be mums. 'Give me as many babies as you like coz I'll get a nice flat or 'ouse and be paid for doing nuffink'. She more than likely tells the tax man she has a poultry farm and raises 'cocks'!!!!:p;):D

Now look what you've done you two, you've more than likely sent my B.P. thru the roof. Anyway lads please keep posting as I love reading them.

Hi Michael I guess we all have similar stories.
I went to secondary school in 1946, The `new ` teachers were all ex servicemen, these guys were killers and took no messing around. The fist was used many a time and I was dropped on the deck a few times. One had been through the entire Battle of the Atlantic and he could tell some mean stories. He kept us enthralled but one false move and he would drop us. I guess it was him who made me want to go to sea.

The D-DAY Dodgers became a name to be proud of, everyone except that stupid Astor woman knew that.

Here are the words...from google....................
The D-Day Dodgers
(Words: Anonymous; compiled and edited by Hamish Henderson.
Tune: Lili Marlene.
Recorded, Ewan MacColl, Folkways (British Army Songs)

We're the D-Day Dodgers, way off in Italy
Always on the vino, always on the spree;
Eighth Army scroungers and their tanks,
We live in Rome, among the Yanks.
We are the D-Day Dodgers, way out in Italy;(2X)

We landed in Salerno, a holiday with pay,
The Jerries brought the bands out to greet us on the way.
Showed us the sights and gave us tea,
We all sang songs, the beer was free
To welcome D-Day Dodgers to sunny Italy.

Naples and Casino were taken in our stride,
We didn't go to fight there, we went just for the ride.
Anzio and Sangro were just names,
We only went to look for dames
The artful D-Day Dodgers, way out in Italy.

Dear Lady Astor, you think you're mighty hot,
Standing on the platform, talking tommyrot.
You're England's sweetheart and her pride
We think your mouth's too bleeding wide.
We are the D-Day Dodgers, in sunny Italy.

Look around the mountains, in the mud and rain,
You'll find the scattered crosses, some that have no name.
Heartbreak and toil and suffering gone,
The boys beneath them slumber on.
They are the D-Day Dodgers who stay in Italy.

Those words bring a tear to the eye.
Today, no one cares , ask any teenager. They are not taught about WW2 in school. It has been airbrushed from our history.
just in case it upsets our new neighbours in the stupid EU.

Note: An apocryphal story --- that of Lady Astor accusing the
British forces in Italy of being "D-Day Dodgers" --- was widely
circulated. This song was a non-apocryphal response. RG

recorded by Clancy Brothers on Home Boys Home
Download the song in PDF format for printout etc.
Download the song in RTF format for editing etc.

During our time at sea we all came across a fellow seafarer who did not fit in, or who for maybe the wrong reason stuck in your mind, the "Maltese Falcon' was one such person.
As a winger with the Lavender ladies life could be hard and we all needed to work together as wingers to get through the day. Evey one would when needed help another winger who may have been 'up the wall' or in strife in some other manner. But there was also the odd case of the winger who just did not care about others.
This winger was from Malta so he told us so the title of 'The Maltese Falcon' seemed appropriate as at that time the movie of the same name was still in the minds of many. It was as I recall early 1962 when he joined us in Southampton for what was to be his one and only voyage on the Windsor.
Tony the assistant head waiter had given him the station next to mine so we had to share the same waiters station, normally not a problem.
He had a lot to say, but at the same time told us very little about himself, the only fact we learned from him was that he was from Malta and he and his brother and sister owned and operated a small boarding house in Southampton.
I was to soon learn that this guy would be a problem, not just for me but for all the lads. He was inherently lazy preferring to take clean cutlery and china from other wingers waiters stations rather than clean his own. Every meal we would hear some one complain about his actions, but still he persisted. Things came to a head just after second sitting lunch four days out from Cape Town. He had begun to take clean cutlery from my tray to use on his own tables, I had spoken to him about this before but to no avail. I told him to get his own clean and leave mine alone, to which he replied, 'what are you going to do about it'?
I am not taken to violence but at that point something went in my Head and I lashed out, my fist making contact with his nose. It was like some event in slow motion as the blood began to flow from his damaged nose, then the yell, followed by him grabbing a waiters cloth, holding it to his nose and rushing out of the saloon. There was silence for a moment, then the place erupted with shouts of 'good one mate, he needed that'. A group of the lads gathered around me slapping me on the back and saying he had it coming. Tony the assistant head waiter came over and asked what was amiss, to which we all said nothing mate, it has been fixed now good and proper. Tony I felt was well aware of what had happened but preferred to say nothing at that time. evening meal and I noticed a winger from the other side of the saloon taking the Falcons tables. Tony in his wisdom had moved them over to try and settle the situation. The next four days went without a hitch.
Cape Town up coast, just one night ashore, and after two weeks at sea most of us made sure it was a good one. For most of us it was, but for the Falcon it was to be one of fatal disaster.
Lucky, one of the tourist BR's had seen the event and was still in a state of shock next morning when he told us of the occurrence. He had been in town to the Grand Hotel for a couple of drinks and was walking away down a side street when he had seen the Falcon talking with two or three local lads. He took little notice but commented he thought the conversation was a bit loud and frantic. Not wanting to get involved or seen by the Falcon he had crossed the road and was just passed them when he heard the gun shot. Wondering what was happening, but being frightened at the same time, he looked behind him before running off. His look was long enough to see the Falcon holding what appeared to be a revolver, a man on the ground and one running off. Lucky did the same and ran.
We got the remainder of the story from Tony just before lunch. The Falcon Had been arrested by the police and charged with the murder of a local Cape Colored. He had on board all the time, since sailing, a revolver for reasons only known to himself, and how he got it aboard no one knew, and as for why none of us could comprehend.
As far as the police knew he was attempting to buy drugs, a large amount maybe to take back to Southampton, and had got into a row about price. The row had gotten out of hand and he had shot the other guy. The captain 'Annie' Oakley had been informed and he was to be held in custody until formal charges were laid.
On our return to Cape Town homeward bound we found out that he had been formally charged with murder and would be taken to Pretoria for trial. Why there we never did find out. The captain was informed by the company representative and an embassy person of the circumstances and that the British envoy would make representations on behalf of the Falcon. That as it turned out was of no use, as it was the case, that he was still a citizen of Malta so no responsibility of the British government.
But that was not the end. The Southampton office had been notified and they had decided to send a company representative to the boarding house to inform his brother and sister of the situation.
The sister, being the perfect host, had offered the Representative a cup of coffee which he accepted. Being the astute fellow he was he made no comment about the cup, milk jug and sugar bowl in use. He did however inform head office on his return and as result the local police arrived at the boarding house with a search warrant. What they found was an Aladdin's cave of UCL china, silver and Manchester. The whole place was fitted out with UCl stolen goods. The Falcon had been on a number of other UCL ships and had taken just about all he needed to furnish the boarding house. Company records later showed he had spent some time working by in Southampton and it was assumed it was at that time he had taken the goods. The brother and sister were charged with being accomplices before and after the fact and dealt with by the courts. If memory serves I believe the received a short sentence. Something like,' you will go to prison for six months'.
But that was not the end, from what we heard at the end of our next voyage the Falcon had been charged, tried, found guilty and sentenced. Apparently the Maltese government had made representations to the South African government on behalf of the Falcon. His appeal failed and on our next return to Cape Town we were told that on the morning prior to out arrival, in Pretoria prison early morning he had been taken out and given a rope tie to wear.
Justice in South Africa, as we discovered, was often swift and brutal.

Excellent story John,

It brought to mind that other murder story of Gay Gibson and James Camb.
My old mate Harry King was in the Catering Department on the Durban Castle at the time.
Harry died two years ago of Cancer.
The Story is here......................on google................

Murder, suspicious deaths and disappearing at sea aboard liners ... Actress Gay Gibson the victim, steward James Camb the killer and the “death ship” Durban Castle. A first class passage from South Africa ...
cruiselinehistory.com/?p=2004 - Cached -
BY GUM there were some happenings on those Castle Boats, never a dull moment, what with that Gold Bullion Robbery as well.
Cheers
Brian

g'day john. i liked your story very much. it certainly highlights some of the things that happened on the UCL.i remember lots of things around the SA coast not all due to bevvy.some of the bloods were good some bad but the pressure at mealtimes was sometimes very great and caused lots of problems.. alf

Hi Brian,
after reading your post,telling of your time around the Spice Islands I sat back,closed my eyes,and sent my mind back to my time sailing amoungst those Islands on exactly the same type job (Feeder Ship)
We left Birkenhead 3/1/56.on the ULYSSES for what was supposed to be a Double Header(Indonesia ---East Coast USA twice) but on arrival in Singapore and discharging we were sent on that feeder run for 5 months.
I think we did all the places you mentioned,the bigger ports I remember but the smaller place names are lost in the mist time.I've been on many ships and visited many lands since 1956 but that Ship,Crowd and the Islands are etched in my memory for all time,OUTSTANDING. I was only a 17yr old JOS at the time,but the ABs looked after us Boys,they were mostly "Pool men"and not Blue Flu so a pritty easy going crowd.
Like you,we always had plenty Rupiahs,every few weeks we would go to Singapore,get a Sub S/Dollars and buy Sarongs,T shirts,Flip-Flops and anything that was scarce in the Islands,after selling or changey for changey we would live like Kings ashore. We did see some good and some bad sights,the sun rise and sunsets were breathtaking,and the people were some of friendliest I've ever met. Those Rebels got close a few times,one place,Tjillyjap ? we were nearing the gate on our way for a few beers in the Kampong? (small village) half a mile away,when it disapeared in a massive explosion.14 killed including the girl I was with the night before. I still remember some Malay speak,Orang Bagoos,Keppel Teda bagoos and a bit more. I use to be able to count.Brian check me out. Satu,Dua,dega,ampet,Lima,anam,Dojo. Unlike you Brian I dont have total recall or the talent for putting it all down on paper, I'm much better in a Bar,a few Beers and the Lads Swinging the Lamp,Hell they can't shut me up.:rolleyes:
ttfn.Peter.